Today is a Great Day!

Today has been a great day!  And it may seem hasty on my part to deem today a great day when it is only 1 o'clock in the afternoon and there are still a host of events that could take place that could turn it sour, but I am telling you it is a great day.  Let me tell you what happened today...

The day started out normal enough.  Julia was up several times last night as she is battling a cold.  My throat was sore and I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes when I faced with the first discipline issue of the day.  I instructed Colette that she would be serving a time-out for her infraction and lead her to the wall, reminding her that the timer would only begin once she was quiet and in the proper time-out stance of facing the wall with her hands at her side.  I have to be very strict about composure because if I leave it up to a simple instruction of staring at the wall, suddenly I have children: licking the wall, pushing the wall in an effort to actually knock it down, scratching the wall, wiping their nose on the wall, climbing the wall, laying down and staring at the wall, etc., etc., etc... My children beg for very clear boundary lines.  I don't know where they get it from...*ahem*

Colette faced outward.  Defiantly.  She was very calm and collected.  The look of determination on her face was very clear.  She was going to attempt to win me over with partial obedience and I must tell you, it was very tempting.  She was not loudly protesting her time-out.  She was standing quietly, but she was not facing the wall.  And maybe some of you will groan, but the rule is that you must face the wall.  Part of the intent of the time-out is for reflection on one's actions caused by the inability to be entertained by anything else but a blank wall.  I informed her that she would have to complete time-out facing the wall and as soon as she was ready, I would start the timer.  She didn't say a word.  She set her jaw and crossed her arms in quiet protest.  So I cheerily turned away and began serving breakfast to the other children.

Twenty minutes passed and she didn't budge or make a peep.  She's not even five yet!  At this point I informed her that the kitchen would be closed in 20 minutes and if she had not served her time-out by then, she would not be getting breakfast.  I reminded her that all she need do was face the wall.  She said in a very steady tone, "If you make me face the wall, I will have to cry."  I informed her that proper time-out procedure requires all elements to be fulfilled: wall-facing, hands at sides, no body parts touching the wall, quiet.  The stand-off continued.

I started dreading the imminent threat of continuing the time-out boycott long after breakfast dishes were cleared and her little tummy was rumbling.  It pains me to watch my children make such silly decisions.  Pains me to the usual point of anger, but we'll get to that in a moment.

Suddenly, a little whimper escaped.  Her shoulders slumped in defeat and she angled her body toward the wall.  Don't cheer yet.  She was only half-facing.  Sigh.  I told her that once she was fully facing, I would start the timer.  She successfully completed her sentence, we had a pleasant discussion about her choices, and all in time for her to eat breakfast.

I resisted the urge to dance and shout in victory.  Which was good, because Mary pushed Julia just as I was considering it.  Sigh.  Off to the wall.  Mary wailed.  Mary sat.  Mary wiped her nose on the wall.  Mary ran away.  Mary wailed.  Mary rolled on the floor, kicking and screaming.  Mary continued for twenty whole minutes, while I gave her gentle reminders of what I expected her to do.  Then Mary took her pants off and stood in her underwear and cried and screamed some more as she informed me in a threatening tone, "I TOOK MY PANTS OFF, MOMMY!"  Take that, Mommy!  But I held out and pretended to ignore Mary's ridiculous antics when all along I was really just hiding the giggles.

And then, after twenty minutes of standing in the same spot crying with her pants off, Mary put her pants back on and said very softly, "I am ready for you to start the timer, Mommy."  And I did.

Now, here is the reason why this is a great day-  I didn't get angry!!  Not once.  This is the kind of behavior that baffles me to the point of yelling, "For crying out loud, just face the wall!  This is ridiculous!"

But the Lord has been dealing with me about my anger.  I have stumbled upon articles and books and Bible verses so consistently dealing with this topic, that I am well aware God is bringing about a great work in me regarding my anger.  So on Sunday when Pastor John gave a message about peace and shared Ephesians 4:26, my heart opened like a vessel just waiting to be filled with God's message to me. "Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry."  Initially I thought this was such an odd way to phrase this.  By beginning the sentence with the focus on the sun, it would appear that our instruction is to exert some form of control over the sun.  Of course, we know all efforts directed in this way would be fruitless, so our focus shifts to the second subject, "while you are still angry."  Suddenly, I was very aware of what God was saying.  We do not have control over the sun, but we have control over our anger (or any of our emotions for that matter).

Now, I will be the first to tell you that I actually contemplated if in fact it might be easier to gain control over the sun rather than even consider managing my temper.  I have red hair, okay?  Yet, all joking aside, I realized that God was telling me that this is the one thing I have control over.  I cannot even control my own children's actions.  I would love to make my children stand in a time-out quiet and composed, but they are far more likely to put up a big fuss and roll around on the floor.  And at the same time that I stood baffled by their inability to pull it together and do what was being asked of them, I would have told you that I could not help but be angered by their actions.

Part of my problem with anger is that I have a sense of entitlement to it.  You hurt my feelings?  You didn't listen?  You disobeyed?  You betrayed?  Well then, you better believe I'm gonna be angry!  I have a right to it!

I have come to discover that anger is a perpetual motion that becomes a massive snowball of angry and unfortunate events.  And I'm over it.  I don't want to justify my actions anymore because YOU made me angry.  I can't control what anyone else does, but I can control my decisions to model peace, patience, and love.  I am done with allowing anger to appear like some evil force that takes ahold of my body and causes me to do things that leave me with remorse.  I made a decision last night that I was not going to allow anger to be a part of my day and I wrote the following prayer to guide me each morning in welcoming a new spirit to rule my household.  Gone is the spirit of anger.  Welcome the spirit of love!

This is my answered prayer.  This is why today is and will continue to be a great day!

Dear God,
You know the desires of my heart to raise children up in obedience and love, and most importantly with a heart for You.  Yet, I fail consistently in acting upon these desires and instead let anger, guilt, and my own selfish desires play out in my children's lives.  I commit myself to you, God, and ask that you would mold me as your child with your characteristics.  I pray that you would fill as a vessel in thirsty desperation for patience, kindness, gentleness, and meekness.  You alone can provide me with what I need and how I might achieve all that you have called me to do.
Lord, give me a dedicated heart.  Lord, remove that spirit of anger that creeps up on me so regularly and replace it with eyes to see my children as you see me- a child of God who is at the beginning of learning to obey Your Will.  I ask that you would call to mind for me a special scripture that will serve as daily encouragement and that it would come boldly to mind in the face of temptation, so that I will remember the spirit you desire me to have- not one of anger.
Lord, I also pray that you would help me to serve my children and husband with a joyful heart.  Remove from me the desire to grumble about the interruptions of life as I would have it be, and instead, welcome them as opportunity to learn from You your gifts of patience, kindness, and long-suffering.
Giver of all that is good, I ask only to please You in requesting that you would bring order to my life, for you are not the God of chaos, but of peace.  Help me to overcome my sinful inclination for laziness and replace it with an ever increasing desire to serve you with the work you put before me.
Gracious God, I thank you for the peace that comes in knowing that all I have asked for, I will receive in the name of your Son, Jesus.  Amen!

God's Go-to Girl

It's 8:30am and the only sound in the house is the clickety-clack of the keyboard and the hum of the dishwasher.  Normally my home does not achieve this level of quiet between the hours of 6:30 am to 8:30pm and even then there is an uncertainty in the air that communicates at any point some child could come rumbling from their beds with protests and complaints.  But today my house is quiet as a result of my wonderful husband taking all three of the girls out and about so I can write.  Specifically, so I could work on my book.  But instead I am here at my blog because I don't feel I can focus on my book until I spit this out...


I have been reading this book, The 10 Second Rule by Clare De Graaf, which I received as a surprise gift in the mail from the homeschool curriculum company that we use, Sonlight.  I am so excited to recommend this book to you that I am not even going to wait until I finish it to do so.  The concept of the book is to "just do the next thing you're reasonably certain Jesus wants you to do."  Essentially it is encouraging an awareness on your part of what God would have you do each moment of the day so that you are ready for the opportunities that He calls us to serve in love.  Just like what I blogged about in my last post- the nagging feeling to offer the marketer in my sub some coffee!


The book triggered a thought for me last night.  I pray regularly that God would put people in my life that I can minister to and be a beacon of light and love to.  I'm pretty sure God has done his part.  I have confessed many times on this blog, my failings in doing my part.  And this is what occurred to me last night- with me being flimsy in my service to God, how can He place in front of me important needs when I constantly reject his calling for the smaller things?  This is not to imply that God has no idea what I will do when He places a task before me (for He knows with certainty my actions before I have even laid them out), but why would God place the hearts of the spiritually dying in my hands when I have regularly turned away even in the case of my own friends in need?!  It became apparent to me that God has a list of "go-to" people when He wants a job done.  They are the people He knows are consistent in their service and are actually waiting for their assignment.


I want on that list.  I want to be God's Go-to Girl!  I want Him to say, "Today I have a widow in need of companionship and Katie will not let me down."  I want Him to say, "The seed has been planted in the heart of a struggling man and Katie will water it until it blooms."  I want Him to say, "Well done good and faithful servant!  You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things.  Come and share your master's happiness!"  Matthew 25:21


Right now God is saying that the job is all mine but I have to prove I am ready for it.  I have to prepare myself by becoming more faithful in the little things; by not denying those naggings at my heart but responding to them immediately; and by standing before Him each day when I awake and asking how He would have me conduct my day, not calling Him in as a back up plan when mine fails.


I feel like I just got the call that I have been accepted for an entry level position at a dream job.  I have to prove myself here as a consistent and dedicated employee before I get the opportunity for promotion.  But when that promotion rolls around, I want to be the first name that pops into my Boss's mind.


  

Abort Mission!

Yesterday I posted a blog about committing to the act of love even when we don't feel like loving someone.  Today I thought I would share with you my first attempt to do that.

As a stay-at-home mother, I often do a lot of staying at home, which tends to limit my contact to the general public.  I initially had no plan to go out this morning, but as the day progressed smoothly and all morning responsibilities were completed, I thought we would venture out to get Colette a pair of snow boots.  Everyone was chipper and cooperative as I loaded them into the vehicle.  As we were exiting our subdivision, I noticed a man entering the sub on foot struggling to keep on a plastic poncho that was blowing in the blustery wind.  The poncho had pockets with bundles of paper in each and from the ones that were escaping, I could see that he would be hanging advertisements on our doorknobs.

As we continued on our way I thought about what an unfortunate job this man had on such a day as this.  There would be no respite from the cold and the wind would be fighting his every effort.  I felt a tug to turn the car around and wait for him to make his way back to our street so I could offer him a cup of coffee.  I ignored it.  I had promised Colette we would get her boots today.

We continued on our way through downtown Howell and we noticed a crowd of people gathered around a monument at City Hall.  It was 11:10 am.  I realized the crowd was gathered in honor of Veteran's Day.  I had spent time that morning discussing with Colette how we live in a free country as a result of those that served, but I didn't know about the event taking place.  I thought to myself how it would have been nice to have gone in support, but finding a parking spot and facing the wind and cold with three small children seemed too challenging a task.  And we were on a mission to get boots.

 We arrived at Kohl's and all children were happy and accounted for as we entered the door.  I sat Julia in one of the shopping carts and as I was strapping her in, Mary selected another cart.  "I push this, Mom?" she asked.

"No, Honey.  We have a cart," I say, unsuspecting of the trauma this would cause.  A store employee had innocently ventured over to admire Julia's cuteness just as Mary fell to the floor.  She started wailing.    I attempted to scoop her up and explain calmly my reasoning.  It was the only other cart.  Other people would need it.  The wailing got louder and suddenly she was flailing her arms and legs.  Oh my.  It was clear from the amount of staring by patrons, I needed to leave.  I picked up Julia, informed Colette apologetically of my intent to leave, and turned to find Mary fleeing from me as fast as she had ever run in her whole life.  I followed, all the while trying to maintain my cool and a respectable level to my voice as I beckoned her to come back.  I am not sure how I must have appeared to the amount of onlookers as I snagged one of Mary's arms, causing her to yo-yo back in to me.  I scooped her up in a football hold, as I was balancing Julia on my other hip, and bolted for the door that seemed miles away now.  The wailing and flailing continued.  Colette and Julia must have looked like angels and drawn the sympathies of everyone present.

Everyone made it safely back to the car, but I was humiliated.  Suddenly, any confidence that I had in my parenting abilities were left at the front entrance of Kohl's.  The child, now restrained by the straps of her car seat, seemed unconquerable.  "It's okay, Mommy.  I don't need boots today," Colette said, as the tears started falling down my cheeks.

I informed Mary of her consequences as we drove home.  She cried and promised she would be good now and begged for me to let her go to the movie night at church.  As we pulled into the sub, there he was- the man with the blowing poncho- making his way toward our street.  The tug to offer some form of kindness was present again.  I considered all of the excuses I had to just ignore him- Mary was still crying and needed consoling and discussion of her actions, Julia somehow was sleeping in the midst of chaos and would need to be carried to her room, I had no coffee brewing, lunch needed to be made, and really, I just felt like I needed somebody to hug me and tell me I'm loved, because those looks from the people in Kohl's communicated quite the opposite.  I did not feel like showing someone else kindness!

And that is exactly what made it the right opportunity.  I unloaded the children, got them settled, and watched as he made his way to my house.  I went down the drive to meet him and greeted him with a smile, "How are you?"  He looked at me cautiously.  I suspect he was waiting for me to tell him our sub didn't welcome his marketing.  "It's a cold day for a job like that!" I said, "Could I get you a cup of coffee, maybe a hot chocolate?"  His old and weathered face broke into a bright smile, "Oh no, ma'am.  I just ate, but thank you!"  He wished me well and went on his way.

I went in the house, wondering what the point was of all this morning's events.  I feel pretty certain that I was wailing and flailing in front of my God when asked to do a simple task.  I will not at all imply that He had a hand in Mary's temper tantrum, but I will say He used it to make sure I understood what my real mission should have been this morning- love, not boots.  And much like it is with our children, when I finally got around to obeying, I was ashamed with how simple it was to carry out the task.  I think we often resist God's call to love, refuting it as too difficult a request.  But the reality is, the request itself is not difficult, the denying of self that it requires is what poses the challenge.

I do not know, and will not ever know, if I made a difference in that man's day.  I am holding on to the mental image of that smile as a small consolation prize.  I believe that as I follow in obedience with a more joyful heart, my reward will be witnessing hearts and lives changed by the love of Christ.  Today, the call to obey was not about what I could do for this man, but what I need to do for myself in understanding my life of service to my gracious and forgiving Father.

Fighting Nature

I have several drawers, cupboards, closets, and possibly a room or two, that pose a reasonable threat to anyone that dares venture into them without being acquainted with the proper procedure of opening doors that have been used to actually restrain contents.  Let me give you a visual.  I have a broom handle that frequently comes flopping out at dangerous speeds each time I open the pantry closet.  My tupperware cupboard rains plastic debris upon the simple task of searching for a container for leftovers.  It is our practice to open these doors by turning ones face and all major organs away from the onslaught.

Have I ever mentioned I am not an organized person?  I have two sisters that are Danny Tanner by nature (is it okay to use Full House references when talking to the mainstream public or just with my family?).  My oldest sibling and youngest sibling are the neat little sandwich ends that hold in the rest of the sloppier makings of their five other siblings.  I'm not sure how this happened, but I am pretty sure it has to do with survival and birth order.  Missy and Melonie cannot function without organization.  While I admit that I would function much better in the midst of organization, I often feel overwhelmed by the many options that come with order- alphabetical, size, color, favorite to least favorite, etc.

For years I have excused my disorder on the basis that I was not gifted with the same nature as my sisters.  This actually encouraged me to embrace some very sloppy habits and accept that this was the lifestyle I was destined for.  It didn't come easily for me, therefore I determined I must not be meant to do it.  This allowed me to accept myself and not repetitively measure myself up against the abilities of my sisters and feel like I was failing in some way.

My first attempt at welcoming some organization into my life was in the area of couponing.  I realized that the more organized I was before hitting the store, the more money I could save.  It was easy for me to commit to setting aside every Sunday to clip and organize coupons and plan grocery lists because I would see immediate benefits on the grocery bill.  It floored me when people would see my coupon binder and exclaim, "You are so organized!"  Because I have had success in this area, organization has spilled over to other areas of my life.  It does not come natural.  It begins with a committed effort, continues with a lot of failure and fine-tuning, and settles in as a habit that has to be maintained with conscious effort.

So where am I going with all of this?  I do not at all intend this to be a "cleanliness is next to godliness" blog entry.  My point is that good traits do not always come naturally.  In fact, it is quite the contrary, but our nature is not an excuse to embrace poor or lazy habits.  This past weekend I had the pleasure of participating in my best friend's wedding.  The priest gave an awesome sermon on love (did you expect some other topic?).  One statement that struck me was that we are commanded to love.  I think some of us are more gifted in the areas of being compassionate and loving just by their design or experience, but the word "command" means we must do it in obedience, whether we feel naturally inclined to or not.  We so often allow love to be optional based on how we feel.

How do we conjure love?  We live in a world that convinces us that falling out of love with someone we committed our life to, happens more often than not, and that it is understandable and expected.  We live in a world that teaches us that the way we feel is paramount to another individual; we desert commitments, spouses, and families in search of our happiness.  We live in a world that accepts sinful nature as God's design.  We have adhered to the philosophy that if we feel a certain way about a person, it is okay to act on those feelings; whether it be love, lust, hate or indifference.

But if God has commanded us to love, He has removed feeling from the definition because, knowing our sinful nature, He knows that we do not always feel like loving each other.  So He is calling us to something greater than our own definition.  If you have ever had children, you soon discover in toddlerhood that they do not always resort to loving responses.  I find myself frequently teaching Colette and Mary compassionate responses to situations.  When one accidentally injures the other, I have to urge a concern on the part of the injurer.  I model an example of how they should ask the injured if they are okay and offer aid.  It is often obvious that the child really does not care in that moment, but I am creating a habit that will hopefully become adopted and the emotion will follow.

In the same way, we are being commanded to act in love where we may otherwise be void of feeling.  We are not allowed to use the excuse that we don't feel like it.  Truth be told, I think a lot of us would struggle to find loving feelings naturally aroused by an old drunken bum on the street, or an imprisoned felon, or someone that has betrayed us.  Love, as Christ commands it, is a commitment to an act, not a feeling.

I have come across a number of people in my life who have been challenging to love.  I can recall several times where my inclination told me to run in the opposite direction.  There was a particular individual who posed a health risk to me just by being in the same room because my blood pressure seemed to elevate in their presence.  Were I to share some of the details of past interactions with this person, many would tell me I was entitled to my contempt.  However, just by maintaining my composure and forcing myself into polite conversation, God exposed to me a very sad individual in search of Him.  And suddenly, there it was... love and compassion bubbling up in my heart for a person I didn't think was worthy of it.  I was only nice out of consideration for the other parties involved.  I wish I could tell you that it was out of obedience to God.  Still, God revealed to me how if we act in love even when we do not feel it, we expose ourselves to the opportunity to love as God loves.

Just as organization does not come easily to me, but requires a constant, committed effort on my part, so too must I commit to the act of love.  It is a conscious effort.  It does not always come naturally.  By nature I feel inclined to love those who stir up an emotion in my heart.  This leaves out a large majority of people with whom I come into contact.  By God I have been commanded to love everyone.  I will often be fighting against my very nature, but I will be doing it by the power of God.        

Take Courage

A blinking cursor can be a very discouraging thing.  Especially when you have been staring at it for two weeks.  Blink.  Blink.  Waiting for the words to come.  Blink.  Blink.  Blink.  You become entranced with the blinking.  It drains any valuable thought.  Minutes pass.  Blink.  Type, type.  Delete, delete, delete.  Blink.  Sigh.  And then someone is crying or needs attention or needs food and you reluctantly pull away, knowing that tomorrow you will return... to the same blinking.  One can only hope that the blinking will be fought back with inspiration.

Two weeks.  The book was begging to be written.  In my mind, it is already done, but there was some sort of traffic jam between head and fingers that was not letting anything come out on paper.  And I started feeling... discouraged.  Wondering.  Maybe this was not what I was supposed to be doing?  Dinnertime was catching me by surprise everyday.  Bathroom sinks were piling up with a thick film of toothpaste.  Laundry was anywhere but neatly folded in drawers.  Life was still beckoning and the cursor kept blinking, as if it was reminding me with each blink, "time is ticking."

We have all been there- that moment when the idea fades from being great to intangible; the moment when you feel not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough; the moment when you settle for life as-is instead of could-be.  I have been hanging out in that mode for two weeks.  I have been praying and trying and pressing on, but struggling the whole way.  And I couldn't quite figure out why I was feeling this way.  When I first started getting the book out on paper, I was functioning at maximum capacity and closing out the day with success and feeling on top of the world.  We're talking- house cleaned, dinner cooked, laundry done, homeschooling completed, writing goals met everyday.  And then the slump hit and I couldn't get anything but the bare necessities done.  It seemed that if I couldn't write, I couldn't do anything else.  I bounced from task to task feeling discouraged.

I'm a "why" kind of girl.  At the point where most toddlers grow out of that stage of asking why every two minutes, I got stuck.  I have been wondering why I have been feeling this way for two weeks and knew I couldn't move forward until I pinpointed an answer.  Was I not really supposed to be writing a book?  Was it natural to have two weeks of writer's block?  Was it because the kids had been sick and I was overtired?  Was it because I was having guilt about doing something outside of serving my family?  Was God trying to tell me something?

He was.  I heard it loud and clear today.  He told me that discouragement was not from Him.  If you are feeling discouraged, that does not come from God.  God is an encourager.  All through the Bible He is saying, "Yes you can!" while the Moses's and Jonah's and Peter's are going, "I don't know, God.  I don't think I'm the guy for the job."  So it suddenly became evident to me that if I was feeling discouraged, it was because another force did not want me to accomplish what I had set out to do.  And if he was trying to discourage me, it must be because he was afraid of what I might accomplish in God's Name.  In other words, I must be doing something good!  If I was just spinning my wheels with no chance of bringing glory to God, he would not care to discourage me.  In fact, the devil does not waste his time on someone who is not walking in God's Will because that is right where he wants you to be.  It is the ones who are actually following God that he wants to mislead.

So if you are feeling discouraged, consider it to be a sign that you are heading in the right direction!    "Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us."  Romans 5:2-5  

Buried Talents

Colette has been walking since she was eight months old.  She has always had great comprehension and fine motor skills.  When she puts her mind to it, she can follow direction to minute details.  However, when asked to return a toy to her bedroom, she has this mysterious affliction that suddenly turns her legs to rubber.  And then her arms become affected too and they flop around as if her nerves are spasming and she has no control over her body.  The wailing is even more convincing.  "I can't do it!" she cries, defeat and disappointment displayed on her face.  My heart aches as only a concerned parent's would.

Oh wait... she's faking.  She doesn't want the responsibility of cleaning up her toys so she pretends to lack the abilities required to carry out the task.  I am certain most parents can relate.  This seems to be a handy little form of trickery every child is taught in that secret class they all take- "Toddler 101- How to Terrorize your Parents."  I am beginning to be convinced we do not grow out of the habit either.

Though I have received compliments on my writing, I have always graciously declined any reference to it being a gift from God.  It seemed shameful and conceited that I would claim my writing was good, much less call it worthy of God.  Recently my views have changed.  This is not opportunity to boast, as I still find much of what I write undeveloped, trite, and contrived, but I have suddenly viewed myself as a child floundering on the floor claiming lack of ability to shirk spiritual responsibility.  My efforts to be humble were actually clothing for laziness, perhaps defiance.  

God has provided me with an ability to write because He intends me to use it for His glory.  To pretend that I do not have this gift, has caused me to squander it away for other purposes, or to not use it at all.  So I have finally committed to writing a book.  For those of you that have known me for a long time, please withhold the groans.  I have been an "aspiring" author my whole life.  Thirty years with nothing produced, outside of this blog.  My motivations were shamefully wrong, and thus failed me.  I daydreamed about my book displayed on the shelves of Barnes and Noble.  Worse, I imagined speaking at the annual Dogwood Festival of my hometown, Dowagiac, MI, which has seen literary greats such as John Updike, Alice Walker, and Tim O'Brien.  I was fame and fortune seeking.  I was also uncommitted and uninspired.

This time it is different.  It is not my desire any more.  God has placed it on my heart that I am to do this in service to Him, without regard for the results other than it is in His plan.  It may never find its way to a publisher, but I know that I am writing it for the purpose of at least one person, if not simply as an act of obedience on my part.  It is no longer my talent, my glory, my will, but His.

I am reminded of the story of the Parable of the Talents, so fittingly named.  In Matthew 25 Jesus tells a story about a rich man who leaves three of his servants in charge of a large sum of money, called a talent (equivalent to over a thousand dollars).  Two of the servants doubled the money by "putting it to work" , but the final servant dug a hole in the ground and hid it so that nothing was gained when he returned it to his master.  I have buried what God has called me to multiply.

I ask that you keep my act of service in your prayers, as I often feel discouraged and am easily distracted with my day to day responsibilities, but I feel very certain that God would not require of me something He has not equipped me to do.  Time I dug up my talent and put it to work for the glory of His Name!

What God Cares About

 As I blogged about last April in  A New Prayer Journey, Jon and I have been praying together each night according to a theme.  The other day the topic was regarding finances.  We were praying for some individuals approaching retirement age, but not necessarily approaching financial stability in order to allow retirement.  Logically, we prayed that their financial situation would change soon so they could retire.  We prayed that their retirement would support their current state of living- which is very comfortable.  Even as I prayed, it struck me that God did not care.

Did that statement just give you a sour feeling?  Perhaps you have not considered that there are things that God does not care about.  Our prayers tend to be routed around what we care about- the people we care about, the causes we care about, our health, our well-being, our comfort, our fears, our career, our family.  But what does God care about?  I generally think that God has a loving interest for our concerns.  I admit it is a very bold thing to claim to know what God cares about, so let me word it this way: Do you honestly think that God is concerned about maintaining the comfortable lifestyle of an individual who does not know the comforts of Christ?

My answer is no.  I can not believe that God is concerned about an individual's retirement, when their eternity package isn't looking so bright.  Without doubt, there is one thing God cares about and that is where you are spending eternity.  That is where all of His focused efforts are directed.  Answered prayers, miracles, humbling moments, healings and heartaches are all just opportunities for Him to get us there and help us to get others there too.

Certainly God can use the worries of this world to direct our attention to Him.  And He does.  But I think we often allow the worries of this world to distract us from Him.  We pray for financial security, good health, happiness, love interests, good grades, job interviews, comfort for the grieving, and healthy babies for the unsaved, without stopping to pray for their salvation.  I am not saying that God is not concerned with the well-being of the lost, but that His primary concern is their salvation, and we should mirror that concern.  Let's not forget that these situations are often what God uses to lead them to Christ.  So if we pray for good health for our loved one, and fail to see that granted, perhaps we are failing to see the greater work that God has in this person.

Jesus could not go anywhere without a barrage of people clamoring for help, and when He offered it, He did not ignore their greater need.  "Go and sin no more!" He would often say after healing.  And He would preface many miracles by saying, "So that you might believe..."  The miracle was simply an avenue to salvation, but not Christ's primary concern.  When you are praying for others, what is your primary desire for that person?  I am suggesting that our prayer should be that whatever the circumstance, God would use it to His Glory that His Name might be made known.

In the Book of John, shortly after Jesus miraculously feeds the five thousand with five loaves of bread and two fish, He addresses the crowd that had followed Him to another city.  John 6:26-27, "Jesus answered, 'I tell you the truth, you are looking for me, not because you saw miraculous signs but because you ate the loaves and had your fill.  Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.  On Him God the Father has placed His seal of approval.'"  Jesus was warning the crowd that they were coming to get their stomachs filled, but they were not seeking spiritual food.

We are surrounded by the spiritually starving.  Christ is the only Bread that will satisfy.  If we pray only for their worldly needs, they will be no more closer to Him when they have those needs met.  They might just be a happy, healthy, comfortable guy heading for hell.

When It Counts

I am not trying to float my own boat, but as a child I was pretty smart about getting what I wanted.  Perhaps it was because I had three older siblings forging the way, setting examples- good and bad, from which to learn.  Or, perhaps it was because I had three younger siblings with childlike behaviors from which I wanted to distance myself.  Whatever the case- natural genius or careful observation- I was quite successful at managing situations to achieve outcomes that were to my liking.  

Now I am not going to name siblings specifically so as not to disrupt family bonds, but some of my siblings were not so wise in dealing with my parents.  Though I may have been guilty of temper tantrums a time or two, I certainly got the general idea that they were an unsuccessful way of obtaining a goal.  Here, I cannot help but confess one vivid memory of a young Katie repetitively hanging her coat on a hanger and then allowing it to slouch off each time the hanger connected with the closet bar.  There were many forced tears and exaggerated movements to prove my point that I could not be entrusted with the responsibility of hanging one’s coat.  I wasted several minutes of playtime and failed to convince my parents that I was incapable.  Other siblings attempted success by this means almost like clockwork despite the consistent results.

I learned that the more compliant my behavior, the more likely my parents would be compliant in my times of want.  Offering to set the table at dinner made me appear willing and helpful, when I really just disliked drying the dishes when the meal was completed.  Having put in my time, I was off playing when other siblings were protesting drying dishes later that evening.  Call me a brown-noser, but pleasing my parents made life a lot easier for me.

One golden rule I lived by that was imperative to my happiness was to not ask for too much, because when I really, really, really wanted something important I was much more likely to hear a "yes" than had I badgered my parents for several small victories.  It was simple.  It was logical.  It was quite successful.

My approach with God was quite the same.  Appease all of those Ten Commandment requests and only ask when it counts.  I didn’t bother Him about the small stuff- challenging history exams and the like, because when I begged him to make a cute boy like me, I really wanted Him to know it was important to me.  This even meant that as I said my nightly prayers with general requests of blessings for my family, I would leave myself out of mentioning so as not to “waste” any wishes with God.  I thought He would recognize my humility and reward me for never being too selfish.

But humility was exactly what I was lacking.  I had a very self-sufficient attitude.  It was clear that I thought I was at the head of the helm and God was only needed when the ship was sinking.  I was the captain, and He was the muscle I would command to get the job done.  Life was based on my terms, my desires, and my destination.  In my mind, God was only called to duty when I needed Him, and I was choosing to make that as infrequent as possible.  And I thought that was humble.

I steered my ship right through some rough waters.  Those times that I tried to sail through life with out God unless absolutely necessary, I was lonely, depressed, uncertain, without direction, afraid, and completely confused how I had gotten there.  After all, I was not asking God for much- just to be there when I thought I needed Him.

A humble heart is a vessel waiting to be filled with the gifts of God.  When a heart swells with pride, it leaves little room for those gifts.  We can choose to live this life calling on God “when it counts,” or we can accept that every minute counts when you are ship sailing off the course that was laid for you.  If God is at the helm, you can be certain you will stay the course and arrive at a favorable destination.


Psalm 25:9 "He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them His way."

Remembering

September enters with an air of somberness.  While Labor Day festivities are being held and the final ounces of summer are being relished, I reflect on the loss of a dearly loved friend.  The mourning is much the same- balancing between the sorrow of loss and the comforts of the certainties of Christ.  It is out of honor that I withdraw to quiet reflection on a life that taught me so much about what impact one life can have on many.

I know that for as long as I live, I will miss Craig.  As I shared with you last year at this time, he was my husband's best friend, so by the rights of marriage, he became one of my closest friends as well.  Some wives bemoan their husband's friends, but with Craig, I always imagined our lives playing out in tandem, despite his talk of moving to Arizona.  I pictured regular weekend barbecues with debates on whose grill was better and what method was more effective, and a wife that would laugh with me at our husbands's competitive natures, and children that would grow up with mine.  Those dreams I will always miss.  The hole that they left will not be filled.

But I have come to realize that the sorrow is all mine (and those who knew Craig), because Craig does not mourn where he is.  It is a selfish desire that wants him to miss me and my husband, like we do him.  But I know that he does not.  Heaven is not filled with people longing to be back here with us.  Heaven is filled with people who have the fullness of satisfaction in God.  There is no emptiness, no longing in His presence.  Revelations 21:4 assures us, "He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."  

Craig is experiencing nothing but joy right now.  This is true for all of your loved ones with Christ.  Nothing in this world- no laughter, companionship, comfort or love- could add to what His loving Father in Heaven is providing.  Though I mourn the loss of Craig with each passing year, the loss is only on my end.  For him, there is only gain!  

Heaven does not leave our loved ones longing for the desires and the people here on this earth.  They joyously look to the day when we will join them in the presence of God.  Physically Craig is separated from us, but our souls are one in Christ.  He understands that better than we can fathom, having experienced fully that which we work toward.  1 Corinthians 13:12 explains, "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.  Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."  It is difficult for me to comprehend what Craig must be experiencing so I hold on to what the Bible teaches us of Heaven, and know that there will be a day when wondering is laid to rest.  

To Craig,

I miss the way you told stories, complete with very believable sound effects, especially ones that involved tools and opening doors.  I miss the way you and Jon would become like 12 year old boys in the presence of RC Cars.  I miss your laughter even if it was at my expense.  I will never forget the first text message I received ever- "Boo!"- and I was terrified because I didn't know what a text message was or who sent it.  You laughed so hard and I felt really stupid, but it's worth the smile now.  I miss your insight.  I miss your gratefulness for small acts of kindness.  Your politeness was a rarity in this age.  You never failed to thank me for dinner, even if it was atrocious.  The last time you came over, I had botched a meal with black beans.  As a novice cook, I didn't soak the dried beans first, and you crunched politely through your helping, assuring me they were fine.  It sounds silly, but I've always regretted that the last meal I fed you was a poor one.  I miss your joy over the simple things in life. Everything was, "Sweet!"  Life was that much better when you just got a new huge toolbox that was better than everyone else's.  I remember you, Jon, and I taking the boat out one night and promising to do it more regularly.  You were just content to float along in silence, loving life and a relaxing moment.  I miss our conversations.  Every time you told me about a girl that piqued your interest, I would get so excited, hoping she was the One.  I would gush to Jon about how cute you were at your attempts to make an impression; like when you asked Jon to teach you how to play the guitar because you wanted to impress a girl you met.  Who was she?  But the most memorable conversation for me took place one night while we were out walking.  "I'm so happy now, Katie," you said, as you explained what a difference knowing salvation in Christ had made for you.  I know you are immeasurably happy now and for that, I thank God.  Today, I just miss you.  And tomorrow I will miss you. But every day is just one day closer to not missing you anymore.  With love, Katie   

 

Time for a Diet!

My children tend to be pretty sloppy eaters, despite much coaching at each meal.  "Mary, stop dissecting your sandwich and just eat it!"  "Colette, if you pick up your spaghetti with your hands one more time, you will be all done eating!"  Sometimes only seconds have passed since saying grace, and someone has peanut butter in their eyebrows. You get the picture.  However, feed them something sweet and suddenly there is not a morsel left behind.  Upon investigation, one could surmise a meal of spaghetti and green beans had been consumed, but there would be no evidences of cookie.  Colette will literally lick a dessert plate clean if not under watchful eye.

Undoubtedly, their sweet tooth is a recognizable trait of their mother's.  Having grown up in a family of seven, sweets were treasured and evenly divvied to avoid fighting.  My sister, Melonie, and I still lament the day M&M's did away with the tan M&M as we would receive 2 of each color at candy time, and this meant two less.  My eyes have had years of training to accurately determine which glass has more pop and which seventh of the Milky Way bar is actually bigger, though my mother went to great lengths to make sure they were all the same size.  I also developed a handy knack of plotting my day around coveted food items.  A box of Golden Grahams has 8 servings.  Given we were each allowed one bowl of cereal in the morning and there were 7 of us, you can be certain that I was an early riser the following morning lest I be stuck with Wheaties.

When seeking inspiration for a blog post this morning, I found myself reading the story of young Samuel sleeping in the night and hearing his name called.  He went to the priest Eli, with whom he lived, several times, before Eli told him it must be God calling him.  Samuel waited for God to call out to him again, and received a prophecy regarding Eli's sons.  Originally I thought the inspiration for this Scripture was in that storyline, but the verse that follows is what lead me to describe my family's eating habits.  1 Samuel 3:19, "The Lord was with Samuel as he grew up, and he let none of his words fall to the ground."

My initial interpretation with this verse is likely incorrect.  My original thought was that it described Samuel's value for the Word, hence my thoughts on how my children are so careful with the food they value.  But as I investigated further, it appears that it might be referring to Samuel's gift of prophecy and how what he testified to, came to be.  Regardless, the thought of gobbling up God's Word, letting none of it go to waste, is biblically sound.  Are you careless with that nourishment?  Or is it a sweetness that leaves you seeking more?

Too often I think we are willing to accept the notion that God's Word is archaic or too difficult to understand or apply.  It washes away the guilty feelings one may have for not reading it.  But we cause ourselves malnourishment of the spirit when we feed on the "sweetness" of this world and neglect the fruits the Lord has prepared for us.  Isaiah 55:10-12, "As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.  You will go out in joy and be lead forth in peace..."  What a picture this paints!  Budding and flourishing, seed and bread, and joy and peace.  All for the one who will devour it.

When I was pregnant with Colette, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes.  I was 172 pounds at the start of the pregnancy and though I thought I was a relatively healthy eater, I struggled with my weight.  The diagnosis lead to a better understanding of the affects my daily food choices have on my health and how I generally feel.  After overhauling my relationship with food, I can easily identify overindulgence or imbalanced diet as factors in my energy and mood.  I feel so much better now that I understand the nutritional needs of my body.

Our spiritual health is no different.  What does you diet consist of?  Are you indulging in movies, music and tv shows that leave you spiritually lethargic?  Are you bloated with negativity, anger, and sorrow?  Perhaps it is time for a spiritual diet.  Fill up on the bread of life and the everlasting water, and you will be surprised how little you will desire the "food" of this world.

 

A Test of Love?

I have a two year old.  This means I frequently find my patience, endurance, and sanity being tested.  "It's all about being more stubborn than she is," I often find myself saying to the sympathetic listener, or to no one at all, but simply as a means of committing myself to the idea.  Mary has mastered two entirely frustrating characteristics of the two year old.  First, she can ignore her name repeatedly called whether you are two inches from her face or juggling a baby and dinner prep in the kitchen whilst she is exploring mischievous opportunities in the bathroom upstairs.  Secondly, her ability to play chicken with the "1,2, 3 threat" has the makings of a daredevil.  Just as your lips begin to form the threatening "three" smackdown and you are prepared to rush her off to Timeout Land, her body launches into action at lightning speed, completing whatever simple request she had been resisting.

I heard it once said that if you pray for patience, you better be prepared for all the opportunities God would be sending your way to try your patience.  Upon hearing such wisdom, I panicked.  I had been praying for patience...a lot.  I realized all of those times that I prayed for patience at the end of an exhausting day, I was really looking for respite from having my patience tried.  I did not consider that in order to grasp the concept of patience, I would have to experience opportunities that cause impatience- Mary insisting that she has to put her shoes on when I am in a hurry to leave, Colette requiring detailed explanation about why there are still kids at the park when I am trying to rush her home because Julia's diaper has exploded, the phone call that I cannot get to end despite multiple attempts to bring attention to the chaos developing in my background.

I guess it would be safe to say I do not like to be tested.  For this reason, I have often felt unsettled when reading Bible stories of God testing the faith of His followers: Job, Abraham, the Israelites when they were traveling to the Promised Land, and the disciples.  It almost appeared cruel to me that an all-knowing God would need to test those that loved Him.  Why would He need to test Abraham's faithfulness; He who knows the hearts of man?  What could knowledge could He gain of us that He did not already know?

It was years of confusion before I realized the gain was all mine.  Through testing our hearts, God learns nothing new of us, but reveals to us His goodness and faithfulness, and our own shortcomings.  How can my faith be strong if it is never exercised?  As an athlete trains his body, enduring strenuous activities to strengthen and prepare himself, so should our faith be in constant trial.  If through competing, an athlete learns of his weaknesses, he does not pack up and go home, but uses the knowledge to prepare himself better.

In grade school I viewed tests simply as opportunity to boast about how smart I was.  The grade was the end goal.  Never did I use the test results to understand my needs as a student.  Perhaps this is why I resented testing from God.  There was little to boast about and I felt defeated; another "F" for patience and no amount of prayer seemed to bring about the magical transformation for which I pleaded.  God was not simply looking for a passing grade.  He was revealing to me the cause of my impatience.  From my failing grade, He wanted me to gain lasting knowledge of self that would cause me to be a conqueror of impatience.    

As Christians we should expect trials of faith regularly.  Our attitude as they approach should be, "Lord, what can I gain from this?  How will you teach me?"  And our faith should lead us to believe that we will come out stronger, purer in heart, and prepared for the next challenge.  Let us not forget that Jesus was tested by the devil with several temptations so that we might learn from the champion of our faith how to become triumphant ourselves.    

Mountain Moved

Sometimes I feel like there is some sort of plug between my brain and my hands that stops up the flow of words swimming in my brain that are trying to get out on paper.  My blog entry from last week, "Moving Mountains," was actually a river of emotion that had been dammed for several weeks before I could express it.  In layman's term, I suffer from frequent "writer's block," but I am more convinced God is behind it.

I have often humbly considered and hoped that God has worked through this blog.  As a member of the Blogger community, I am able to view statistics regarding the number of reads my blog gets.  Of specific interest to me, I can see internet word searches that landed on my blog.  A number of times I have blogged about a topic and discovered searches with that specific content in mind, made within hours of posting, that are guided to my blog.  In these moments, I feel very certain that God intended me to write for that individual.

It was weeks ago that I began to feel like a burdensome mountain in the way of God's work.  It was so evident to me that it was preposterous how difficult I found it to reflect the thought on paper.  Writing is all about release for me; an idea seems to grow in my head, budging room for the thinking that is necessary for daily functioning until I free them on paper and find myself able to think again.  Yet, the words would not form with many a revisited effort.  So I left the inspiration tucked in my draft folder, a folder I very rarely reopen.  I am a one-draft kind of girl as proofreading assuredly leads me to believe that my writing is garbage.

So there the mountain-of-an-idea sat for several weeks in my draft box, while I blogged away about other topics.  One day while reviewing the traffic sources that lead to my blog, I was very sobered by the word search hits for that week- "Has God seen me in eternity?," "Shame of sin, unworthy of God's love," "Do we have miracles in everyday life?," and "Why do I struggle with doubt in Christ?"  My heart felt weighted by the thought that these people were seeking God on the internet, and a blog that I wrote might be a chance at finding Him.  Who were they?  Where were they?  What lead them?  And most heavily I considered, "Why me?"  Why did God lead them to me?  And had I sufficiently assured them of His grace and love?  To think that I have taken this blog lightly at times...

Suddenly, the mountain started moving.  I typed away at my thoughts of standing in the way of God's work in me and through me.  I confessed that I feel there are often deep roots linking my behind to a chair, making me a more sturdy mountain than Everest.  The idea was released and my mind set free as I clicked the orange "Publish Post" button.  An hour later, God revealed just the kind of work He can do in moving mountains- two people had searched the topic "moving mountains" and landed on my blog.

What my blog did or did not do for these people, I will never know.  What I do know is that God works through the offerings of His children when those offerings have been made according to His will.  My "two cents" offerings may not seem like much value to this world, as I am not an acclaimed writer or an educated theologian, but as a mere housewife, God can take what I offer in my writing to touch the heart of a reader and make it invaluable, only because He is behind it.

That power is in you, too.  God has equipped you to make offerings in His Name that will do immeasurable good to the soul of another.  It may be disguised in the simple- a hug, a word of encouragement, a warm meal- but given in His Name, it has the power to be miraculous.  Don't consider yourself to be a miracle-worker?  Take a step in His Name and see where it leads you.  

Moving Mountains

I believe God can move mountains, figuratively and literally.  In Christian jargon, mountains often depict the looming problem that is preventing us from getting to the other side; that land of success and happiness we all long for.  Faith leads us to prayerfully ask God to move the mountain.  On Sunday in church we sang the song "Mighty to Save."  The chorus says, "Savior, He can move the mountains.  My God is mighty to save.  He is mighty to save."  For the first time, I considered that I might be the mountain that needs to be moved.

In other words, perhaps I am so rooted in my current position that I am the biggest obstacle standing in my way.  I do not like change very much.  If one makes a suggestion after I complain, I am very likely to respond with a "yes, but.."  Yes, getting up earlier so I can add some time to my day would be a good idea, but I'm so tired.  Yes, writing a book is something I would love to do, but I'm so busy.  Yes, I should exercise, but I don't have the energy.  I am a mountain in the way of my own improvement, of my spiritual growth, and often, of my happiness.

I believe that God can move mountains.  I believe He can heal the sick and wounded, restore the alcoholic, and bring joy to the mourner.  And while I can truly believe Him capable of all these things, I can still deny His power in my own life.  I claim to be a mountain too big for Him to move.  Moses stood before a talking bush on fire that did not burn up, and told God he stuttered so he could not be the man to go talk to Pharaoh.  The rich man who had diligently kept all the commandments his whole life, "went away sad" when Jesus told him to sell his possessions to the poor.

When I pray for God to heal the ailing, help the needy, comfort the mourning, and protect the endangered, I do not doubt His ability to work that miracle.  But when I pray for my own weaknesses (if I even pray about them at all), I have nagging doubts in my mind of whether it is even possible for me to become more patient, more organized, more thoughtful, more willing.  Why does the mountain seem so much bigger when it is me?  I suppose it is because I know myself and my limitations; my habits of being easily discouraged and distracted.  That is who I am, but it is not who I am in Christ- "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline (2 Timothy 1:7)."

There are days where I feel like there is no power in me... and those are the days that I have given myself over to laziness and self-loathing, spending idle time with the devil.  God does not often reveal His power in a person when they are warming the couch cushions.  His power is revealed in those who start moving in His Name.  A sledgehammer is not very powerful lying on the ground, but if you pick it up and start swinging, you reveal its capabilities.

God can move mountains, even if that mountain is me.  I have some major moving to do in my life, but I will not be going anywhere without the power of God behind me.  I can not continue to be the mountain in the way of God's power in my life.  How about you?    

  

    

Restoring Joy with Rocks

One of the greatest blessings of having children or being with children is experiencing the joy of childhood all over again.  This morning I had the pleasure of spending time with my nephew,  who will soon be ten years old.  We had walked to a park with the girls and while the girls were playing on the swings, my nephew and I discovered that the pea gravel that blanketed the park was a never-ending discovery of fossils and cool rocks.  We were on hands and knees for the next hour, imaginations taking us to long-ago days.

Our excitement grew with each find.  We daydreamed about exploring landscapes more exotic than the local playground and my nephew shared his interest of being an archeologist if he does not become a professional baseball player.  My pockets were weighted down with rocks that we could not bear to leave behind to be ignored and trampled.  It was questionable whom was enjoying the exploration more.  Unwillingly, we had to go back home for the girls were now hungry and confused with Mommy exclaiming over rocks we never took notice of before.

Reclaiming the reality of motherhood, we walked home and made lunch, but my heart was light with the joy of childhood.  Those days of building forts in the woods, pretending to be pioneers, and imagining the possibility of the world's next greatest archeological find being in my backyard are long-gone for me, but they were re-awakened this morning.  It takes a child sometimes for us adults to really behold the intricacies of the world around us that God created for us to behold His Glory.

This morning really has me thinking how, as adults, we so often only allow ourself to be mildly amused with the awesome.  In a world where the computers of six months ago are ancient technology, and the ease of all our needs are within our grasp, it can be challenging to find ourselves in awe of the complexities of our own bodies, our ecosystem, and the treasures in our backyard.  Isn't that the beauty of our children?  The discoveries that are overlooked by the busy, responsible adult are treasured by our youth for good reason.  It is the fuel for their imagination and their potential.  How exciting it is to consider that my nephew's interest in a few rocks at a park could ignite a future archeologist!

I think an unfortunate result of the American way of life is our ability to easily become disinterested with the marvelous when the next big thing comes along, and that spills over in our relationship with a God Who is the same yesterday, today and forever.  But perhaps the struggle is not all that new.  David wrote a Psalm that is regularly used in the Lutheran liturgy that would indicate he struggled with remembering to take joy in the work of God.  In Psalm 51:12 David prays, "Restore to me the joy of your salvation..."  It would do us well to pray this often.

There are times when I am sitting in church and what I hear has been said before or fails to intrigue me, and my mind begins to drift.  Oh for shame that I do not marvel anew at the work of my God!  God's Word is awe-inspiring every time- my disinterest is a chosen state of mind.  Has salvation grown old to you?  I will confess it sadly has to me many times.  I must be reminded that the work God has done in me, in my family, and in my friends is worthy of a joy that is fresh every morning.

Though He is an unchanging God and His Word remains today as it was thousands of years ago, the possibilities of my God- His mercies, His miracles, His wisdom- are new to me every morning.  Take a moment today, tomorrow, for a lifetime, to find joy in the miraculous He is working in you everyday!

Free To Love

My apologies for an extended hiatus.  Life has been very busy!  This past weekend was a combination of celebrating the blessing of freedom that we have in this country, as well as the blessing of seven years of wedded bliss for Jon and me.  Originally when we planned our wedding for July 3rd, it was a matter of convenience and availability with the added benefits of Independence Day festivities.  This year I reflected on the significance of celebrating the two together.

There is such freedom in love.  When one is pursuing love, it seems wise to be cautious of how we reveal ourself.  We are certain to look our best and act our best, laying out evidences for worthiness.  We read into the actions of our love interest to interpret their level of desire for us, and attempt to reflect the same, hiding feelings that may indicate more out of fear of scaring them off.  There are times when I get lost in years of journal entries and that angst of love not yet requited seems still so fresh.  The feeling that I remember most was being so bottled up with love for Jon while he was off in that male world of oblivion.  What I really wanted was not his love in return but just opportunity to express the immense love that was building up for him.  I longed for that freedom to tell him how I felt and to serve him in love.

But there are always those games of pursuit first, right?  Perhaps that is why, when love is in grasp, you suddenly feel so free to let go of all those appearances and dig deep into the heart of the person.  When I was finally able to show Jon the love that I had for him (and he finally realized that he felt likewise), our worlds exploded with the freedom of just being who we are.  Isn't that the best part of love- waking up with messy hair in an old t-shirt that you are only now discovering was splattered with spit-up the night before and knowing it does not affect one ounce of love the person next to you feels.  1 John 4:18 "There is no fear in love.  But perfect love drives out fear..."  Those days of fearing that I would lose Jon by turning him off with one bad hair day or one ill-received gesture are gone.

Freedom in love is a wonderful thing, but there is much responsibility.  Though Jon has expressed his love for me even when I am at my worst, I have a loving desire to please him and be at my best.  Not that I feel his love for me is dependent on it, but because the freedom to love him is so enjoyable.  I love to make him smile, to be a part of his happiness.  So it is in the freedom of love that I serve him.  It is opportunity, not obligation, that rolls me out of bed in the morning to make him breakfast and pack his lunch and send him off with a kiss.  It is opportunity that drives me to spend his hard-earned money wisely and keep our home as orderly as possible.  And he is quick to find opportunity to remind me of the love he serves as well.

Psalm 119:32 says, "I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free."  At first glance the language seems almost contradictory.  If one is under the command of another, we rarely consider them free by today's interpretation of the word.  The verse makes me visualize someone running through a wooded path with the freedom to steer off the course, but a desire to stay on the path someone laid out before them.  It is clear to the runner that the path was laid out in love, a means of safe travels through an otherwise treacherous terrain.  Perhaps the runner could explore other options, but in following the path there is freedom in every step for the path has already been laid and he has no worries of hurdling fallen trees and tangled vines.  His feet are light down the path that has already been laid.  The designer has promised a safe arrival and the runner is free to follow.

What freedom we have in Christ to follow the path He has laid out for us!  It is love that drives us down that path of service in His name.  And we are free to love because He first loved us.  He drove out those fears of unworthiness by making our worthiness known to us when He died on the cross for us.  God made the first move in declaring His love for us so that we could have the freedom to love Him in return.  Let that love drive you down the path He has forged for you; one that promises success and arrival at your Heavenly home.  It is your choice to serve Christ in love, but your heart will be set free from the burdens of this world if you anchor it to Christ.

Seeing the Obvious

By far the most chaotic time for my family is Sunday morning as we are preparing for church.  Trying to make it out the door on time with everyone preened and primped is quite the feat with three children who do not sense urgency.

We were doing considerably well this Sunday.  Everyone was gathered at the door for the final stage of adorning shoes and heading out.  It seemed necessary to Mary at that moment to investigate a coffee cup left on the counter.  Of course the coffee cup was not empty and in order for her to do a thorough examination with the counter still inches above her head, the coffee cup had to be lifted with a flipping motion that sent its contents (thankfully well-cooled at this point) in a wash over her beautiful sundress.  In a flurry of unplanned activity, I stripped her, ran the soiled dress upstairs to soak, pulled a fresh dress from the closet, sat her on the potty before we had any other unwanted incidents, and sent Jon out to at least get two children loaded in the vehicle.  I retrieved Mary from the bathroom and rushed to put her shoes on which had been left by the kitchen door.

Or had they?  "Jon!"  I yell dramatically from the window, "Where are her shoes?!"  Exasperated, he responds, "I put them right in front of the bathroom door!  How could you have missed them?!"  Indeed, there they were, placed so strategically in front of the bathroom door that he was wise to think not a person could miss them, much less avoid tripping over them.  But I was not looking for her shoes at the bathroom door.  I knew to look for them at the kitchen door where I had left them.  I was so mission-minded as I launched out of the bathroom, Mary on my hip, I overlooked them.

After His resurrection, Jesus was not immediately recognized by Mary at the tomb.  She thought He was a gardener.  It was not until He spoke her name that she realized with whom she had been conversing.  I have often wondered what took her so long to figure it out.  The shoes were a little revelation for me.  She was not looking for Jesus alive; she was looking for a dead body.  She had seen Him laid in the tomb on Friday so she was not expecting anything else but a dead body when she got there.

I wonder how often we overlook Jesus in our own life.  How many times have we blown out the door with a mission for our day, stepping right over that Jesus-moment in our life, not even seeing it?  What miracles have been undiscovered, written off as coincidence?  What inconvenience was really God at our doorstep with opportunity?

Perhaps we are so busy with our own plans for our life, that we look for Jesus only in the areas where we left Him.  "Hey Jesus!  Good to see you at church- I'll be calling you for my next tragedy!  Thanks for being there!"  And off we go, not expecting to find God working in our everyday life, so we miss those moments when He makes His Will obvious to us.

What are we to do then?  In my life where I am bustling about tending to needs all day, how do I make certain I do not miss God?  James 1:22-25 advises, "Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves.  Do what it says.  Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.  But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it- he will be blessed in what he does."  To recap - read God's Word, apply it to your life, and be blessed!

I think prayer is the most certain way to open the door for God to make Himself known in your life.  Beginning your day in prayer will route your thoughts toward God.  If you invite Him to join you in your day, you will be sure to be looking for Him when He takes you up on that invitation.  No more stepping over God in your doorway- time to get in step with Him!      

Walk This Way

I had no idea the effect parenting would have on my spirituality.  Though I never intended this blog to be a regular comparison and confession of my day to day interactions with my children, it seems that is what God's intentions are for it.  I look at my children and feel inspired.  I know what I, a sinful being, desire for them and through that I can see what God in His perfect love longs for us, His children.

Colette is a child with a strong will and an intelligence that leaves me dumbfounded.  There are times where I feel so unprepared to raise someone of her nature and capabilities.  I daydream about her future; her potential to turn this world on its axis.  If I see this in my own child, what must God see in each of us- He who designed us with a specific purpose?  I can only imagine what Colette will become, but God knows what He has in store for her.

As parents, Jon and I will play a huge role in our children's outcome.  To understand my influence in the molding of their character- how I encourage them, how I coddle them, how I teach them and what I model for them- often leaves me overwhelmed.  What I desire for Colette, Mary, and Julia is love, security, a clear sense of right and wrong, and most importantly, a solid faith in Christ.  What pains me is knowing they will likely go through trials to achieve these things, just as I did.  And what worries me even more is that they will not always make the right decision.  I will not be able to protect them from every decision that they make.  Were I to shelter them from these fears, they would likely never end up with the qualities I so desire for them.  The responsibility of guiding them with enough influence, yet allowing enough freedom for development, is a balancing act I have not mastered.  Has any parent?

Even now as I watch Colette and Mary make little kid decisions with small impacts, I hurt for them when they are unhappy with the results.  Yes, Mary decided in the moment that refusing to eat green beans was a good idea, but when everyone else is eating ice cream, those big tears make a mother's heart ache. The truth is I want her to have the ice cream.  I love blessing my children, watching them delight in an act of kindness and love.  But, as a mother who is deeply concerned about raising her children to understand responsibility for their actions, I know that withholding the ice cream is the most loving thing I can do.  I am always going to love my children and I will always desire to be a blessing to them and to shower them with blessings, but there is a time for everything.  Sometimes, there is a time for withholding blessings.

Our loving Father in Heaven has a storehouse of blessings waiting to rain down on us.  But as a good and just Father, He also will wisely choose when to shower those blessings.  He will always love us, but He cannot bless us when we walk outside of His Will.  It is the basic concept of parenting.  We use reward charts to communicate the concept to our children.  Is it any surprise that our Father in Heaven looks forward to rewarding us when we walk in His ways?

Psalm 37:4-5 "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.  Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will do this..."  That's quite the promise for those who choose to walk this way, the path that He has carved for you.

Note to Self

Note to self: "The Lord disciplines those He loves, as a father the son he delights in."  Proverbs 3:12.  I might need this one stamped on my forehead as a friendly reminder every time I look in the mirror.  The experts say that children actually want boundaries, despite their nature to constantly cross the border.  Yesterday Jon was consoling Mary after she was disciplined for not assisting with clean-up.  He explained to her that our bad decisions can result in consequences.  Looking for Colette's support as an expert in the area of making bad decisions, Jon asked, "Colette, tell Mary- are consequences good or bad?"

Colette quickly responded, "Good because they help us learn to act better."  It was not the answer he was seeking, but it certainly made us smile.  I found it comforting that Colette appreciated the need of the boundaries we have been reinforcing so regularly.  She can be very strong-willed and there are days that end in exhaustion and frustration because I feel like I have been on her case all day.  I try to end the day with a reassuring hug and assert that we will have a better day tomorrow.  And we usually do.

Parenting is like making an investment in your child.  Often I can feel the battle brewing- the sigh when asked to pick up her toys or the nose crinkling at the sight of an unwelcome dinner entree.  It is in that moment where I have to make a decision of what my approach will be.  I could choose to conserve my energy and time and let her do as she would please.  Honestly, there are times where I feel too weary and just want to avoid altercation, but to consider the longterm ramifications discourages me.

When you decide to make a financial investment for your future, the initial steps of setting aside money can be very difficult.  There are sacrifices that need to be made and habits that need to be changed.  If you focus on the goal of a financially stable future, all of the struggle is necessary and good, though it may not be enjoyable.  Likewise, the sacrifices that we are called to in parenting, though not all enjoyable, are necessary and good.  If I invest time and thought in my child now, the future will reveal an individual who is well-adjusted to a world of boundaries and expectations.  Caring enough now, means caring for their future.  Somehow children recognize that and are drawn to structure and discipline.

I say "somehow," but I believe it was God's good design.  Because the Lord loves us, we should expect His discipline when we fall out of line.  And we should be grateful for it.  It is good to consider God's discipline in our lives, and what He is revealing to us through it.  Have you been put in a "time-out" with a life that seems stalled, because you have not done what the Father has asked of you?  Perhaps you are still nursing a "spanking" for doing something dangerous.  Or have you lost privileges to a toy because you did not play responsibly or refused to share?  Maybe the analogy makes you giggle a little, but truly Our God is a loving God with expectations for His children's behavior and He is a master of behavior modification.

God knows that His discipline can cause you to scowl and question His goodness and mercy, but just as it is love that causes me to correct my children's poor behavior, so it is His love that He offers in the discipline of His children.  Colette and Mary may not always be able to comprehend that it is love that drives me to enforce rules and expectations.  There are regular events in our household that attest to their unwillingness to admit that I know what is better for their future than they do.  What about you?  Can you see the love of your Father in His discipline?  Do you submit to it because you trust that He knows what is best for your eternal future or are you resistant?  Consider your next consequence as an opportunity to learn from a good and gracious God, one who is investing in your future.        

Sins of the Faithful

Children seem fascinated when other children are being disciplined.  They watch with mixed horror and glee.  It seems the innocent bystanders always take the moral high-ground and tsk-tsk the offender.  Colette tends to use a very adult voice as she recaps the incident.  She piously shakes her head from side to side and announces, "So-and-So sure was having a rough time today.  She didn't want to listen to her mommy."  Funny how clear right and wrong seems when you are not guilty of wrongdoing.

It might seem odd to say this, but I was relieved when Mary reached an age of intentional disobedience that required discipline.  For awhile Colette must have considered herself to be the naughty girl of the family and Mary was the golden child who could do no wrong.  I sympathized with her that Mommy frequently had scowls for her and smiles for my cooing innocent baby.  And now we have a similar dynamic between Mary, the two year old who is just beginning to explore the potentials of naughtiness, and Julia, the baby who is often Mommy's happy place.  It's tough feeling like you are the only one who has a hard time doing the right thing.

I suppose we never grow out of the fascination for other's failures.  It fuels the media, fosters gossip, and leads us to that sense of security that we are not so bad.  To spotlight someone else's faults is never a good thing.  To preen our own self-esteem at the scrutiny of someone's failure, something of which I have often found myself guilty, is shameful as well.  But to quietly learn from the shortcomings of others can be valuable.  While Colette would like to think she has never behaved poorly for her mother, I find opportunity with her peers' behaviors to discuss how to manage the same situation when she finds herself there.  And I remind her of times where she has made similar poor choices.  I use these moments to humble her and encourage her.  I would do well to parent myself the same way.

It is no mistake that the Biblical "greats" have pasts ladened with shady business.  Abraham, the father of the Jewish nation, attempted to get a head start on God's promise that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars and slept with his wife's servant since his own wife appeared to be barren.  Not exactly a faithful move.  Twice while traveling in foreign lands, he lied and said his wife was his sister and gave her to other men, in fear of his life.  Then there was Moses who saved the Israelites by leading them out of Egypt, but was guilty of murder before he took that walk of faith.  David, described as "a man after God's heart," had quite the heinous history of adultery and murder.  Peter, the often over-zealous disciple, denied knowing Christ when He was being tried and persecuted.

What kind of examples do these "greats" set for us?!

Realistic ones.  The truth is we all have some shameful baggage, but there is no burden too heavy for Christ to carry for us.  All was suffered on that cross.  To say that only those innocent of the "big" sins, are worthy of being saved, diminishes the profound work Jesus did in offering himself as a pure sacrifice for the sins of all.  It is precisely why the Bible is rich with examples of people stumbling their way to faith.  If the Bible truly professed that being a good person was the key to Heaven as so many a confused Christian claims the founding principle of Christianity to be, then Abraham, Moses, David, Jonah, Peter, Paul and a host of others would be out of luck.  But they are not, and neither are you.

The media laps up the sins of famous Christians as if it were sweet honey.  They shake their fingers at the fallen and proudly proclaim that their Christianity has made them no better than the rest of the world.  Too often we unite on the common ground of sin.  Truth is, sin is a common ground for all of us, Christian or not.  It is good to know you are not alone in the struggle of sin, but better to know we can unite in the grace of a Savior who lovingly died for those sins so that He could spend eternity with you.  Paul, after persecuting Christians with fervor, was able to joyously declare that salvation was his, because he knew the truth he professed in Romans 3:22-24, "This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.  There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus."

Confess the Mess!

When you are a mommy of three small children and not the most organized individual, your home may appear to have been ransacked to the onlooker... which is why I often draw my blinds... and panic when the doorbell rings.  Just this morning I asked Colette to fold up clothes that she had decided against wearing and put them back in her dresser.  She reminded me in a very logical argument that my own closet had a pile of clothes on the floor, as she edged a tangle of shirts, skirts and tights into the closet with her toe and attempted to close the door.  

This week the house and the children have been overwhelming, leading to a few desperate Facebook posts.  My husband was out of town, I am preparing for my sister's wedding, and potty training Mary has lead to exhausting amounts of laundry that have me fearing my next water bill.  Offers of help were made and I did not respond.  I am not one to easily accept help because enlisting help often requires a full revelation of the actual mess.  Oh, I can admit to you that my house is a mess and leave to your imagination how bad it might be.  You will give me the benefit of the doubt that it can't be "that bad," and I will try to convince you that it is.  But the thought of you actually witnessing firsthand that there is crusted oatmeal on my stovetop from this morning, makes me shudder.  It's not just the oatmeal- it's the trail of dirty burp cloths, abandoned socks, and toy debris that I can not keep up with.  To allow help to actually enter my home, I would go into a cleaning fit that would hide the extent of the disaster so the individual would be left to think I am a delusional perfectionist.  I am not, but I sure want you to think I am.

The truth is we all have problems that we admit to having, but when it comes down to revealing the very depth of the problem, we only let a few individuals, if that, see beyond the surface.  It can be a very dangerous situation, leaving our potential help to consider that our problem is not that bad and under control.  The inability to admit to others just how messy our life can be can leave us lonely and overwhelmed.

I have found that confession can lead to connection with others.  In my circle of mom friends, we bond over confessions of tempers lost, rebellious children, and housework run amuck.  There is release in discovering that you are not alone in your problems.  In some ways, our desire to hide our problems away in a private recess of our mind, is a selfish decision to not help the next individual struggling with the same burden.  Appearing to be a mother who has got it all together, leaves a lot of other mothers wondering what their problem is and why it seems to be so tough for them.  Perhaps my messy home could be a ministry to them!

At the heart of what we hide, is shame.  Like Adam and Eve, we hide because we are ashamed of what we have done and what we have left undone.  We fear that if we reveal our inabilities, addictions, and sins, the world will find us unworthy of love.  So we place our dirty laundry in closets not visible and leave it largely unaddressed.  And we find ourself doing damage control to keep our help from finding that closet in fear they will turn on their heels and run screaming.  

And maybe some of this world might.  But God will not.  Have you ever wondered why an all-knowing God requires us to confess our sins to Him?  He knows what we will do before it is done.  What good is this step of confession?  It is not for His knowledge, but yours.  Are you fully admitting to God how messy your life is, or are you pretending He can only see the surface?  Friend, you will know the full extent of His love when it covers over that very ugliness that you have been hiding, but when you hide your sin, you allow His love to only come so far.  This is the barrier that sin creates and it prevents God from helping you with the mess and it allows the Devil to hang it over your head as evidence of unworthiness.

But the truth that will set you free of this burden of sin is that you are so worthy of God's love that He sent His one and only Son to suffer and die for those very sins you pretend you can hide from Him.  He wants you to know that His love reaches even to the very depths of the ugliest part of your life, but if you do not let Him into that closet, He can not begin to help you clean it up.  Do not limit the power of the love of God in all areas of your life.  That mess is bigger than you are, but not bigger than the power of God.