The Whistle Man

A few years ago, I went to visit my aunt and uncle in Michigan.  My aunt is a musical savant.  She is known around the world for her "gift" of music and playing unusual and eclectic instruments.  When I was visiting with them, my aunt announced we were going on a road trip to see a "world famous" Irish whistle maker.  She had high hopes to buy one of these special whistles.  Road trip!!!!!  FUN!!  But when we were belted in the car en route to said whistle craftsman, she informed us that this whistle man was no ordinary man.  he was eccentric, AND it had been known that if he didn't like you, he would NOT sell you his whistles!  

We were under strict instructions to be on our BEST behavior, no matter the circumstances.  Well, I am a rule follower, so I thought no worries.  We got this.  I mean how bad could it be?

We pulled up the gravel driveway to an old farm house.  Around the back of the house was a barn like shed.  There were hundreds of whistles hanging from the old rafters, and I remember a big long wood table took up most of the floor space.  My aunts eyes light up like a kid in a candy store.  In her amazing way she charmed the old whistle man and was soon playing whistle after whistle to find just the right one.  I could tell that this eccentric artist wasn't so sure about people touching his crafted masterpieces.  I was starting to get nervous that we would be sent away empty handed, and my aunt would be devastated!  But soon his focus shifted and that's when I realized I was in the hot seat.  

The old man set his sights on me.  The closer he would get to me, I would take two steps away from him.  I was trying not to be obvious, but pretty soon I was doing laps around the table in lightning speed to flee from the whistle man, and yet not blow our mission.  On about my sixth lap, I looked over at  my uncle and gave him the "hairy eyeball."  The one that specifically said loud and clear, "Are you serious!"  "Rescue me!"  Three more laps around the table, my eyebrow raised to my uncle clearly said, "Don't make me tell my dad, your older brother, that you didn't SAVE ME!"  My uncle was in a conundrum.  Abandon his niece in her time of need, or drive home in the car two hours with his wife who was whistle denied.  

This whole time, ironically, beautiful music was being made by my aunt as she played every one of those whistles hanging from the rafters.  I do mean every one of them!  

Evidently the whistle man was growing tired of the cat and mouse game and announced he was parched and needed a refill on his "special" water.  I quickly saw this as my escape opportunity to flee, even though I was more terrified to go to the old house and what I would encounter there.  My uncle was relieved too, as it let him off the hook to rescue me.  I was told the "water" was on the screened porch, and I was instructed to refill his jug.  Well, I did not want to let my aunt down, so I swallowed my fear and marched to the old house.

Once inside the back screen door, I was shocked.  The floor boards were missing in spots and I could see the ground beneath my feet.  There was so much stuff, I didn't know where to look.  I didn't know what the special water was, so I didn't know what to look for.  I could see out the porch windows, my uncle in the shed, and I was jumping up and down waving my arms frantically to get his attention, careful not to put my foot thru the floorboard.  But my attempts were futile.  I was on  my own, left with this sinking feeling.  I couldn't go back out and say I couldn't find it, because that may make the whistle man upset.  I was wrestling with the morality of distributing alcohol to a man who clearly had a problem, but I loved my aunt and I told myself, "girl, you can do this!"  "She needs her whistles!"

Somehow I found some plastic jugs.  None of them marked "special" water by the way.  Nor were they marked moonshine, but they smelled funny and I filled his mug and marched back to the shed.

We left with three whistles.

I tell you this story because it is funny.  I tell you this story because it is crazy!  But there is another reason.  A reason that rings true to me today as I look back at this experience.  I would do anything, push through anything, rise to the occasion, persevere through difficult situations, and face fear, for the people I love.  I did it then, I do it now, and I would do it in the future.  What is important to them is important to me. If in any way I can help them or aid them, I will.  

So I find myself asking myself, "How far would I go to secure my relationship with Jesus?"  Would I give up comfortable?  Would I allow myself to be put in situations that threatened my safety and security?  Would I give up my cool image and allow myself to be uncomfortable for my belief and trust in Jesus?

Do I care as much about letting Jesus down, as i do about letting people down?  Do I care about what Jesus thinks more than I care about what other people think?  

Would I give up the known, to venture into territories that make me think, leave me questioning and wrestling with choices?  Would I step out in faith, and trust what I have no experience in? Would I openly face my fears and ultimately conquer them for the reward of serving my King?

What about my pride?  Would I lay down my self centered focus on myself and what others think of me, to follow what Jesus says about me?  Would I give up control to manipulate the outcome that I want, to have the outcome that Jesus desires?  Would I risk looking silly or soft, to have a relationship with Jesus?  

The whistles that I was so willing to secure for my aunt, were one of a kind, unique, precious beautifully crafted, masterpieces.  Like those whistles, my relationship with Jesus is something that can never be duplicated or imitated.  It is a one of kind, special, most precious, and masterfully created relationship.  There is no greater prize than his love.  

I want to be a person who lives on the edge for Jesus.  I want to be a person who would do anything and be everything that Jesus calls me to be.  Yes, my whistle man story is a funny story, one I will not soon forget.  Because it taught me a great lesson.  It brought to my attention the great lengths we will go to for the ones we love.  If I love Jesus, what great lengths will I go to in securing a right relationship with him?  At the end of the day it will not be "just" three whistles I walk away with.  It will be all the grace and mercy and blessings that only a life filled with Jesus can offer.

Summer Realities

I always looked to summer with a great anticipation.  I couldn't wait for the kids to be out of school and our lives to change dramatically.  There was a simplicity to summer that I craved.  No shaking the kids our of bed in the morning when it took so long to get them there in the first place the night before.  No rushing around with school papers, backpacks, school lunches and "i missed the bus" routines.  No after school practice, lessons, school meetings or science fair projects presented and due the next day.  In a way, life slowed down in the summer.  There were endless days of waking up and saying, "what do I want to do today?"  I purposely planned it that way because lets face it, keeping five little lives in motion, constantly, is a lot of work.  But my carefree summer sabbatical was not exactly a vacation from busyness.  Having my two grandchildren stay with me for the last week brought all those summer memories flooding back to me.  

Summer it seems is a bit like childbirth.  You forget how it really is, and only recall the gift your efforts received.  So here is my list of summer realities and the gifts they produce.

ENDLESS LAUNDRY

All summer long my washer and dryer are on overtime.  It's the endless trips to the pool with endless beach towels, getting crunchy in the dry heat of Arizona.  The ones that can stand up on their own, the ones that no one wants to wrap around their body until they are washed and dried and soft and fluffy again.  It's the wet bathing suits that no human can pull over their body, let alone over a squirmy child's arms and legs.  It's quiet possibly the endless Popsicles that drip down their chin onto their shirts and their stickiness gets wiped onto their shorts.  It's the blankie that gets dragged to the pool, through the desert dirt, and used to mop up the melted Popsicle on the floor.  But here is the gift.  When the children are tucked into bed and I'm folding the last beach towel and bathing suit, I play back in my mind the glorious adventures of a day well spent splashing and basking in the summer sun.   All the memories that were created, and all the laughter that was shared are tucked away in my heart.

SUNRISE, SUNSET

The summer days are long, but the nights are short.  It's hard to convince a three year old that it's bedtime, when the sun is still shining brightly overhead.  My feeble attempts to point out the hands on the clock, do nothing to persuade them of their impending bedtime.  It simply makes no sense to their internal clockwork, and they are convinced it is all part of an evil scheme to trick them.  If that wasn't bad enough, the sun decides to rise at 4:45 am and once again the children are convinced it is "day" and they are up and ready to roll!  No amount of room darkening shades can counteract this terrible injustice.  This is intuitive in every small brain.  But here is the gift.  As I rise at 5 am and am greeted by their cheery smiles, I cannot help but feel blessed.  Grateful for a new day to share adventures with these small creatures that are full of hope, expectations and the belief that this day is going to be glorious!

THE OVERWORKED DISHWASHER

Every summer I am reminded that one, I have too many dishes, and two that I need a new dishwasher.  Why my children/grandchildren think they need a new glass every time they get a drink of water is beyond me.  the endless snacking that occurs in summer also requires a new bowl or dish.  But here is the gift.  As I am unloading the dishwasher for the third time in a day, and I am placing all the "kids" cups in their cubbies, I get a sense of how lucky I am.  Blessed that I have so much.  Blessed that my children are well fed, and taken care of.

STICKY SUNSCREEN

Don't ever ask me to apply sunscreen to your back.  I only know how to squeeze one amount from the tube.  that amount is exactly what it takes to completely slather one small child from ear to toes.  I learned this skill because no child likes sunscreen, and you don't get a second chance to go back for more from the tube.  And let's face it.  Sunscreen feels grose.  It leaves this sticky residue on your hands and body.  But here is the gift.  At the end of the day when the kids are worn out from playing in the sun, and they snuggle up in my lap, the faint scent of sunscreen linger on their skin.  All the great memories of our summer fun dance in my heart.

I have photographs to remind me of all the summer fun actives and memories of the carefree summers of the past.  But ironically, it's the tasks of summer and the smells of summer that take me back to the moments of summer.

My Search For Significance

I may be one of a very people on this planet in America, that did not grow up with Saturday morning cartoons.  Not because we didn't have a T.V.  Not because we lived in the Ozark Mountains and had no reception.  Not because we did not have electricity, or my parents forgot to pay the cable bill.  It was simply because my parents came from a long line of farm stock and Saturdays were chore days.  ALL DAY!  It didn't matter that we lived smack dab in the middle of the big city.  It didn't matter that all we had was one dog, or that we got our bread, milk and vegetables at the grocery store down the street.  Now, you might be thinking, "Then how many chores could you really have?"  Well, it was a mystery then as much as now, but I'm telling you the list NEVER ended!  

My parents were born in the Great Depression.  They watched their parents, their neighbors, work, scrape and do anything they could to feed their families and keep clothes on their bodies.  They grew up with a strong work ethic, and their significance and survival came from all they could do.  

I can recall when I had 3 young children at home and one permanently implanted at my hip, and my mom would call me on the phone.  Inevitably she would always ask, "What did you get done today?"  I wanted to yell, "NOTHING, I simply sat on the couch and drank coffee and watched dust collect on my coffee table."  But instead I felt a pang of guilt.  Had I done enough?  Checked enough boxes that day?  Was I worthy?  Was I significant?

So when I had my own children I wanted it to be different.  I didn't want their significance to come from how much they could perform, get done and an endless task of chores that never would get checked off.  It was Saturday morning cartoons for our house.  And it was me, Mom, running around completing all the tasks and chores it took to run a household of 7.  Because being a person who got their value from "doing"  I never minded doing it all.  I was filled to the brim with significance.  I was indispensable.  Only now do I realize what I have done.

There is a difference between finding your significance in performing and serving, and serving out of a grateful heart.  One fills a void in you, the other fills a void in others.  I may have rescued my children from living a life believing that they are only as good as what they can produce, but I robbed them, and me, of an important balance.

By doing everything I was still feeding the monster of "I am only valuable if I perform."  I was also robbing my children of Colossians 3:23.  "In all the work you are doing, work the best you can.  Work as if you were doing it for the Lord, not people."  If they are to learn this and grow into  young adults, get married and teach their children, why am I not modeling this in my home?

Why?  Because I only felt as good as my to do list said I was.  But I am learning I am so much more than what I got done today.  Because today maybe was the day I sat and rocked my one year old grand-baby, or spent the day outside in the garden with my grandson watching and marveling at the dragonflies and bumble bees.

God put Adam and Eve in the garden and then instructed them to work it and take care of it. Genesis 2:15.   God knew honest hard work was good for our soul.  Not because it made us worthy, but because it made us holy.

My search for significance was not born out of the powerful truths of scripture.  Instead I allowed my self esteem, security and purpose, to be dictated by worldly sources.  And these rewards fulfilled me for a short time, but they soon turned into an urgency to perform again to seek the same approval.  

But I do remember a time when working hard was a blessing.  This time in my life was the summers I spent on my aunt and uncles farm in Minnesota.  Unlike my "big" city life, the country life was a drastic contrast.  There were eggs to collect, potatoes to peel, and endless dishes to wash and dry by hand.  When we were roused early from our slumber, we grumbled and complained of walking the bean fields to pull the weeds that sprang up.  But here is what remains from my summer memories.  The countless dishes we washed and dried four times a day, bonded us.  The endless chatter and sharing, laughing and teasing, gave us community and closeness.  The bean fields that we walked in those early hours were full of jokes, pranks and so much laughter.  Even to this day we laugh about those silly milkweeds.  We were many hands working together to make a family.  We fell into bed at night exhausted and satisfied. And this is where I learned the value in the fourth commandment.  "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.  For six days you shall  labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God.  On it you shall not do any work. Exodus 20:8

Sundays were looked to with great anticipation.  There was always more chores that could have been done, but my family kept the holiness in the Sabbath.  There was balance to working for the Lord, and resting in the Lord.  This was God's design.

So as i sift through my to do list, I remember the difference in working hard for the greater purpose, and working hard to be admired by others.  Significance comes from honoring what God has called me to do.  It is His to do list that becomes my priority.  

I was a mama who accepted and lived with the stress of an overwhelmed schedule.  Too many things to do, not enough time.  What I was really living with was a soul  that ached.  I knew that there was more that God made me to do, and I yearned to do it, if only I could get some of the things off my to do list!!!  He is showing me step by step now, how to honor the time that He is giving me.  To direct my path to work as if I am working for the Lord.  And truly that significance fills my soul with peace and joy! 

The Open Door

I do great under crisis.  When there is a problem I get right on it.  I stay calm, cool and collected and get right down to business.  I can usually undo, fix, or figure out anything.  Almost.  Except when I can't.

And for me, these are faith issues, and I struggle with them.  A lot!  For a mom with 5 kids, and endless opportunities to hone my skills, you would think I would have a handle on this by now. But it always hits my blindside.  In fact it ALWAYS takes quite a while for it to register on my radar as a faith issue.

I have this visual in my head.  I'm in a old house, upstairs.  There is a great long hallway with many doors.  (I know sounds kind of like an institution, but hey, this is my visual so it's a house.)  I am walking down the hallway trying to open doors.  Can I pick the lock?  Is it just stuck?  What if I push harder?  Can I break it down, kick it in?  Is there a key hidden somewhere?  I think I will look around for the key.......  And so it goes, me trying in my own strength and mind, to go through a door.  Why not just stop to look around to find the open door?  Why?  The why is because I think no one is going to come ridding in on the white horse and rescue me. " If it's to be, it's up to me."  I have learned to push through pain, overcome obstacles, and at times sand off a square peg to fit in that round hole.  Now in my exhaustion,  I look back on my life, and I picture God sitting back with a heavy sign and saying, "Okay my beautiful warrior child, let me know when your done so I can show you the easy way." 

God has a path for me, a plan for me.  Instead of trying to do my own will, why don't I do his?  God can and is willing to do all the heavy lifting, and yet my pride and self reliance always get in the way.  God is not a back up plan.  God is the plan!

God does not put obstacles in my way, I do.  I spend so much time running around and being busy, and trying to force my will and my way, that I don't see what God is doing.  I don't see the open door.

If you, like me, are trying by your own strength and force, to blaze through the tall grass and shrubs, may I give you the pep talk I'm giving myself.  Again....

God has a path laid out before you and me.  Yes, some of it is uphill, but when we are too tired, He will offer us rest.  When the storms come and the rain beats down on us, He will be our refuge.  When we simply cannot move one more step, He will carry us.  We do not have to go it alone.  And those locked doors?  They may be locked for a reason.  They may simply be a distraction at best, or they may be locked for our protection.  Not unlike unanswered prayers, they may be a blessing in disquise, and something we just can't see from where we are at.

I trust you God, to direct my steps.  I will keep my eyes on you.  When I start to lose my way today Lord, help me to remember that your plans are bigger than my dreams.  

What I Learned From My Father

For 50 years my dad has stood before me, stood beside me and stood behind me.  He has never fought a battle I could fight.  Instead, he taught me to be a warrior.  He taught me to pick my battles, let things go and forgive, even when I didn't want to.  He is constantly changing my perspective to one of grace and mercy.  He taught me to stand my ground, but more importantly he taught me how to retreat, regroup, and be a survivor.  

I learned from my father that happiness is a choice, not a destination.  With every phone call in the morning and I say, "good morning," he responds, "and a beautiful morning it is."  He sees a thousand ways a day, that God is good.  He notices the little things that others pass by, like a flower blooming amidst the rocks, or a raindrop caught on a spiders web.  He declares these "gifts" good, and happiness is born.  My dad inspires me to live a life like that.  I want my eyes to see God's beauty everywhere, everyday, in a thousand simple ways.  I want to choose happiness.

I love that my dad's birthday is so close to Thanksgiving.  Sometimes it even falls on Thanksgiving.  As I am preparing the week of Thanksgiving and thinking of all the things I am thankful for, my dad is right there in my thoughts.  Fifty years of Thanksgiving is not enough time to fully honor the gift that God has given me, my dad.  Every year I am thankful for one more year with my father.  One more year of coffee and pie in the mornings.  One more year of sitting beside him at one of my children's plays.  One more year of, "and a beautiful morning it is."

A toast to my father.  thank you for being God's beautiful gift to me.  Thank you for teaching me that when I can't see the hand of God, I have to trust the heart of God.

Copy of Beautifully and Wonderfully Made

There are age old expressions that get passed down from generation to generation. Like, "Oh for Pete's sake."  I mean who is Pete?  And whats the story behind Pete?  Well the other night I made the comment, "They beat to their own drum" and a young girl looked at me all serious and asked, "What does that mean?"  After I had explained the age old saying I thought to myself, that's me.  I have always felt different.  Looking around at other girls, then women, I have seen myself as set apart.  Not quite fitting the mold everyone else seemed to so easily fill.  And honestly I have felt most comfortable being.... well, me.  That is until I see myself through someone else's eyes.  Then I feel like an odd duck.  A contrast to the norm, and doubt and fear step in.

But the truth is, I am just the way God created me to be.  Just like you, I am made perfect for the purpose that he created in me and to do the works he intended me to do.  

As women we are particularly vulnerable to fear, because we care, because we love, and because God's design for woman was to be a nurturer, a helper, and a caretaker.  But the bible tells us that "There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear."  I John 4:18.  We feel fear when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable.  But our vulnerability is part of what makes us women.  It enables us to love with fierceness, protect relationships, feel deep passion and to comfort and offer mercy to others.  It's the ability to  be the mama bear to protect our offspring and the fight in us that protects the heart.  The flip side is that when you love, you are vulnerable to loss, exposure and abandonment.  

Society says "you are plain."  Jesus says, "You are more than."

Society says, "You are too much."  Jesus says, "You are beautifully and wonderfully made."

How God created you is essential to accomplishing his purpose for your life.  We all have a point at which we choose which evidence to believe.  Do we rely on the masses to tell us who we are?  Do we rely on the image in the dressing room mirror?  Or do we look up to God and let him tell us what is real?  As women we need to listen to God's spirit more than we listen to society.

It's not an easy assignment.  And I can attest to that.  I struggle when the tv and media parade women around and say, "This is who you should be."  I struggle when men believe it.  I struggle to be seen as "more than", when others only see the outside of me.  I struggle when people compare me to others, or expect me to "feel" like others feel.  I beat to my own drum, but sometimes I just want a band to back me up.

But what I am learning is, God designed me on purpose and equipped me, just as I am, for my journey.  No one else is designed like me because no one else was created to do what he wants me to do.  I can stop feeling like I don't measure up, and you can too.  If you have been feeling different than everyone else, then take a breath.  God did that on purpose!  No one has what you have to offer the world.  Even your little corner of it.  

We as women strive for perfection.  Perfection seems like the best security against rejection.  If our house is spotless and our jeans fit just right, and we show the perfect smile, perfect flowing hair, who wouldn't love us, right?  But God says, " My special beautiful daughter, you do not have to be perfect, because you are already loved perfectly by me."

Beautifully and Wonderfully Made

There are age old expressions that get passed down from generation to generation. Like, "Oh for Pete's sake."  I mean who is Pete?  And whats the story behind Pete?  Well the other night I made the comment, "They beat to their own drum" and a young girl looked at me all serious and asked, "What does that mean?"  After I had explained the age old saying I thought to myself, that's me.  I have always felt different.  Looking around at other girls, then women, I have seen myself as set apart.  Not quite fitting the mold everyone else seemed to so easily fill.  And honestly I have felt most comfortable being.... well, me.  That is until I see myself through someone else's eyes.  Then I feel like an odd duck.  A contrast to the norm, and doubt and fear step in.

But the truth is, I am just the way God created me to be.  Just like you, I am made perfect for the purpose that he created in me and to do the works he intended me to do.  

As women we are particularly vulnerable to fear, because we care, because we love, and because God's design for woman was to be a nurturer, a helper, and a caretaker.  But the bible tells us that "There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear."  I John 4:18.  We feel fear when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable.  But our vulnerability is part of what makes us women.  It enables us to love with fierceness, protect relationships, feel deep passion and to comfort and offer mercy to others.  It's the ability to  be the mama bear to protect our offspring and the fight in us that protects the heart.  The flip side is that when you love, you are vulnerable to loss, exposure and abandonment.  

Society says "you are plain."  Jesus says, "You are more than."

Society says, "You are too much."  Jesus says, "You are beautifully and wonderfully made."

How God created you is essential to accomplishing his purpose for your life.  We all have a point at which we choose which evidence to believe.  Do we rely on the masses to tell us who we are?  Do we rely on the image in the dressing room mirror?  Or do we look up to God and let him tell us what is real?  As women we need to listen to God's spirit more than we listen to society.

It's not an easy assignment.  And I can attest to that.  I struggle when the tv and media parade women around and say, "This is who you should be."  I struggle when men believe it.  I struggle to be seen as "more than", when others only see the outside of me.  I struggle when people compare me to others, or expect me to "feel" like others feel.  I beat to my own drum, but sometimes I just want a band to back me up.

But what I am learning is, God designed me on purpose and equipped me, just as I am, for my journey.  No one else is designed like me because no one else was created to do what he wants me to do.  I can stop feeling like I don't measure up, and you can too.  If you have been feeling different than everyone else, then take a breath.  God did that on purpose!  No one has what you have to offer the world.  Even your little corner of it.  

We as women strive for perfection.  Perfection seems like the best security against rejection.  If our house is spotless and our jeans fit just right, and we show the perfect smile, perfect flowing hair, who wouldn't love us, right?  But God says, " My special beautiful daughter, you do not have to be perfect, because you are already loved perfectly by me."

Moms Know Everything

When my children were young I was outnumber five to one.  Plus my oldest child was super smart.  (unfortunately he didn't get that from me.)  Lots of times  he was correcting me, and by the 4th grade I couldn't even help him with his math homework.  So thank God he never asked!!!!!  But, I was the leader of my little pack, so I had a logo.  Whenever the kids asked me a question and I would answer, they would say, "How do you know?"  And I would reply, "Because Moms know everything."  It didn't take them long to get where every question was heading.  I would say, "Cuz Moms," and they would banter back, "Know everything."

We had other mantras in our house like, "We love our bread, we love our butter, but most of all, "we love each other."  (I seriously considered changing that to "we love our mother) but for the most part they were always kind to me, but not necessarily to each other.  We also had the mantra "To know and not to do..... is NOT to know."

As my kids got older and the questions got harder, I realized I didn't have the answer.  As much as I wanted to know, some questions were just too complicated, too hard, or were something they needed to decide on their own.  So, as a mom with adult children I found myself saying, "I don't know."  And I felt like I had let them down.  After all, Moms know everything.

It lead me to some soul searching.  And what I found is that the older I get the less I know.  And that is not necessarily a bad thing.  At first I was putting everything in an I don't know basket. (Anyone who has been to my house knows that I love baskets.  They are so good at holding all the things your not quite sure what to do with.) But eventually I learned to put all of my "I don't knows" into a "God basket."  

I think as a mom and a leader of my tribe, I felt like I had to know everything.  And honestly most of the time I didn't.  But God does.  I don't know why people say and do what they do.  I don't know why people are suffering and cancer and Alzheimers are stealing away precious people from our lives.  But God does.  He is still on the throne and he is ultimately the leader of my tribe.  And so I tell my children now, who are young adults navigating through this crazy life, that "I don't know, BUT God does."  Take it to him because ultimately he has the answers.  He doesn't have baskets that he stores the things he doesn't know what to do with.  He is omniscient and omnipresent and he knows all things.  

When the bible says God is omniscient it means that He has perfect knowledge of all things.  God does not have to reason things out, find out things, or learn them gradually.  His knowledge is absolute and unaquired.  The psalmist wrote of God's infinite knowledge, "Great is the Lord, and mighty in power, His understanding is infinite." Psalms 147:5  

With this knowledge of God's omniscience came the realization that there is no question too big or too awkward to ask God.  God doesn't cringe at a question presented to him, like sometimes as a mother I can.  God can handle the big ones and the difficult ones.  It is in this basis of my faith in such a God, that this mom can rest, assured in his mighty strength and knowledge that he has those answers that elude me.

I guess after all, Mom's do know everything if they point to their heavely Father and say...  He knows.  Go ask your Father....

The Happy Meal Reveal

When my kids were  young, oh how they loved a "happy meal" from McDonalds!  Well, I got the privilege of introducing my grand-kids to the thrill of the "Happy Meal"!  As we sat down at the kitchen table to eat, my grandson reached his little hand over to mine and with a gentle smile and a pat on my hand, exclaimed, "Grandma, I am soooooo happy!"  I patted his little hand and a smile crossed my lips,  "Aw he is so happy because he is with me."  "Oh he is so happy because he has this great big family and feels so loved."  And then I had to open my mouth and lose the moment when I asked him why.  He set his french fry down and looked directly at me like I was crazy.  "Because Grandma, I have a HAPPY meal."  It wasn't that the happy meal made him happy, it was because the name told him he WAS happy.  I loved his simplistic mind, and today I wanted someone to tell me happiness was as simple as eating a food that was named "happy."

So what's the secret to happiness and whats the difference in being joyful as opposed to happy?  I set on a quest to see what God says about it.  

Happiness is an emotion that is derived from our external circumstances.  Happiness is based upon happenings, meaning things that happen to you.  If things happen to go well we have this great feeling of happiness.  But if it happens to go bad, our happiness is gone too.  We are happy when we get an A on a test.  Happy when we get an unexpected check in the mail.  We are happy when someone wraps their arms around us and tells us they love us.  Feeling happy is a response to something good happening to us.  Not so with joy.

Feeling joyful is something that comes from within you and is more consistent.  It is manifested by loving who you are, embracing who you are, and accepting how you are.  Joyfulness comes from God, it is a hope, a knowing, it is an attitude of the heart.

You can be happy and have joy, but happiness is dependent upon circumstances, joy is not.  Here is why.  Before Jesus went to Calvary, he said, "  These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be full."  John 15:11.  "You will have sorrow now, but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you."  John 16:20  Jesus went to the cross to make sure joy would be complete.  Then Jesus reassures them that no one can take that joy away.  This is a permanent possession not a fleeting moment like happiness is.  He continues to say that today you will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn to joy.  

The best example I have in my own life is when my brother passed away after a grueling battle with cancer.  There was no happiness.  I remember saying my last goodbyes, tears streaming down my face.  I looked up into the doorway to see my father with tear soaked face, smiling.  There was no happiness in that moment.  Our hearts were broken.  We would miss him.  He would never get to see his children graduate, get married and have children of their own.  But my dads face was full of joy.  Joy because my brother would no longer be tormented with the ravagings of cancer, and he would be received into Heaven where his suffering would be no more.  Happiness is not much help in this circumstance but joy is.  We know we will see him again and that gives us great joy that no one can take from us.  Even though mixed with grief, the joy remains.

My circumstances in my life will not always make me feel happy. I don't want to live my life as a happiness junkie, always looking for my next fleeting dose.  Because looking to other people or to other circumstances to make me feel happy is never going to turn out well.  God is the only one who can fill my joy bucket.  He promises to make my cup full.  

My grandson was not too far off the map when he believed he was happy because the food he was eating told him he was.  God promises us joy.  "You will make known to me the path of life, in your presence is fullness of joy.  In your right hand there are pleasures forever."  Psalms 16:11.  We too should believe we are full of joy because God said it is so.  Let's just call it the "Joyful Meal." 

Why Adult Children May Stray From God part 2

Here are some of the reasons I think young adult children can stray from God.

1. The legalism they see in church and church goers.
2. Proclaimed Christians acting judgmental and critical.
3. Christians who mess up, make bad choices, and condemn others who do the same.
4. The world we live in has so much suffering, and "bad things" happen to good people.
5. Caught up in the wrong crowd.
6. Make so many bad choices that they become lost and hopeless.

All of us, Christians or not, are sinful by nature.  We mess up, screw up and fail miserably.  People are people.  Christians don't have magical powers or divine protection from doing the wrong thing.  We still have choices, and we can still pick the wrong ones.  What we do have is the holy spirit to alert us to when we have sinned.  We also have the grace of God to forgive us when we repent of our sin.  God then calls us to action to make amends for our sins effect on others.  When we don't do this, we are not a reflection of Jesus, and we cause others to stumble in their relationship with God.

When people talk negatively about Christians and church, I always ask them,  "Are you looking at the people, or are you looking at God?"  Churches are run by people, not by God. These are human, flawed people.  Some of them are so caught up in the "rules" that they forget the message.  Jesus did not hang our with the Pharisees, he sought out the prostitutes, the broken down, the hopeless.  He did this because he wanted to give them a relationship with God.  The gift is in the relationship.

It takes money to run a church.  There are light bills to be paid, outreach, counseling, addiction, parenting classes, youth programs, Sunday school supplies, hospital visitations and bereavement help, and people who work at the church.  When churches send the collection plate around or talks about giving, people get turned off.  The church is simply trying to provide people with all the amenities they can offer, and it takes money to do that.

There is a world of suffering out there.  Children are starving, sick and dying.  Men are murdering and beating people.  Wonderful people are suffering with Alzheimers and dying from horrible cancers and diseases.  This is fact.  There are many books written on how God can allow suffering in our lives, but the short answer is God's ways are beyond our own comprehension.  For whatever reason, God chose to make man how he is, with free will.  God suffered when he sent his son to die a terrible death just to save our own neck.

There is possibly nothing more frustrating than people who claim to follow Jesus, and act nothing like it.  It is frustrating because it is a misrepresentation of Jesus.  Jesus was all about the truth, but he was equally all about grace.  He opened his arms and embraced the lost ones.  When Christians gossip, are critical and hypocritical, when they are mean spirited and unforgiving, when they have no grace or mercy, when they condemn others for their mistake and shortcomings, they are not reflecting Jesus.  Jesus was all about the "misfit toys" on the island of misfit toys in Santa Claus.  The best answer I can give to this problem, is to remember that ALL of us are sinners, Christian or not.  

We have all heard the phrase, "you are who you hang out with."  When we hang around lost people too long, we become lost too.  When we are steeped in ungodly actions we become immune to the "shock" factor in them.  Pretty soon what used to be a red flag becomes second nature to us.  We become immune to morality and right thinking.

When we are making bad choices and are aware of them, we tend to hide.  We flee from anything that will uncover our disguise and reveal the truth.  That means God.  If we stay in this state too long, we will become lost.

If your child is lost, or has turned from God, there is hope.  There is always hope.  God is there, right beside your child.  He loves them too much to leave them there.  Scripture tells us in Proverbs 22:6  "Train up your child in the way in which he should go, and when they are older they will not depart from it."  They may stray.  They may question, but deep in their heart is the seed of God.  And remember it only needs to be the size of a mustard seed.  Pray for them.  Give them to God.  He will find them.

When Your Child Turns Away From God part 1

A young youth pastor asked me, "what do you do when you have raised your children with the knowledge of God, and one of your children does not embrace it?"

Here are my thoughts on what we can do when our child turns from God.  My thoughts come from the parable of the prodigal son.  Luke 15: 11-32

11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.

13 “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living.14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinnedagainst heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father.

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’

28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your propertywith prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

New International Version (NIV)

When I read this, my first thoughts turn to the father.  I can imagine him searching the hillside several times a day hoping to glimpse his son walking toward home.  The hopeful anticipation and then the heartbreaking defeat that this man must feel, touches the very heart of me.  I also notice that that this father does not give up on his child.  He keeps faith and anticipates his return, even though he has no proof, guarantee, or external signs to indicate that.  

Although this story doesn't say as much, the father lets his son go his own way.  He doesn't threaten him to stay, or hunt him down and drag him back home.  This is not unlike our heavenly Father who allows the sinner to go his own way.  He greatly loves us and patiently waits for us, so he can show his great mercy.

It is the forgiving father, whose character remains constant throughout the story, that overshadows the sinfulness of the son.  In the end it is the memory of the fathers goodness that brings the prodigal son to repentance.  

So what does this all mean to us?  How can we apply this to our own situation?  

1. As a parent there is nothing our child could do that would make us stop loving them.  This is a God given attribute.  Nothing can separate us from the love of our Heavenly Father.  
2. As a mom, and a christian, my faith remains strong.  I am not only hopeful but wait expectantly for God's hand to move in my life and the life of my children.  We strengthen our faith by praying for God's will, protection and intervention.
3. Do not give up on your child.  We can see many examples in the bible that reflect Jesus's loving attitude toward the lost.
4.  Sometimes we need to get out of the way and let God do his work.  Enabling and strong arming our children into submission is not God's way.  
5. We need to set a Godly example.  Forgiveness, gentleness, kindness, and love.  Even when it is not deserved or earned.  We are a lamp into the world.  We need to shine our light so bright that our children can find their way home in the dark.  We are the ambassador for Christ, and we need to make sure our child sees his reflection in our face.  

In my next blog I will discuss some of the reasons why I feel young adult children stray from their relationship with God....

10 Things You Should Say To Your Child

• I'm sorry. 

Let your child know that they are more important than your pride.  That you see their innate value to God.

• I was wrong

Society tells us it is a weakness to admit when we are wrong, but it takes way more strength to admit when we have made a mistake.  Modeling this character trait will enable your child to be humble and not prideful.

• You are beautiful

Let your child know that they are God's beautiful creation.  There is no one created uniquely like them on purpose, inside and out.

• I love you

And the greatest of these is love.   Every day tell them how you feel. 

• Jesus loves you

Your child is never alone.  No matter how they feel, God will accept them where they are, unconditionally.

• You are so important to me

We all need to feel needed.  Tell  your children that they matter, that  your life is so amazing with them in it.

• You are more than.....

Children face a lot of pressures of not being enough.  Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not cool enough.  Tell them they are enough!   God created them MORE than enough, because they are everything he hoped they'd be.

• I believe in you

Kids need to know that they have what it takes.  And they do, so say it every chance you get.

• God has an amazing plan for your life

Kids need to know that they have purpose.  Especially teenagers.  They were created on purpose for a reason.  They need to be reminded of that.

• You've got this.

We are stronger than we know we are, and our capacity is bigger than we ever dreamed.  Instill in your children that they can handle all things through Christ who strengthens them.

High -Low

When your a mom living in a house with 5 little souls, life can get hectic.  It's hard enough to keep up with the laundry, cleaning, grocery shopping, get em to practice, rehersals, check the homework, and the "I need to keep them alive, I better feed them, responsability.  There's not much time left to connect with them on a heart level.  Life was a flurry of activity and I was a mama running on all 6 cylinders. 

I remember rocking my babies to sleep at night and how I made all the time in the world for that.  I would hold them long after they fell asleep and breathe in their sweet scent from the top of their little head, and watch their heartbeating through their delicate little skin.  I felt connected.  I felt serinity.  I felt immense love.

As my children got older bedtimes became the last thing to checkoff on my multi page to do list.  there were baths, storytimes, tucking in and prayers to be said.  I sprinted thru it like a seasoned professional.  But I was longing for that deep connection and I felt like I was missing out..... on something.

So one night I decided to institute a new ritual.  the High-Low ritual.  After tucking them into bed, I would crawl up next to them and ask them what was the worst thing that happened to them today?  (their low)  They only got one answer.  After all, I HAD 5 kids to get to sleep!  This gave me a great glimpse into their heart and their world.  Somehow talking about their low, took it's power away.  Then I would ask them what was the best thing that happened today.  (their high)  As the kids got used to our new ritual, it became easier for them to recall specific  moments in their day that caused them great sadness or great joy.

No matter how busy my day had been and what I had missed, the high- low ritual became a way for me to understand and feel connected to my child's innermost workings of their heart.  It also gave me a chance to help them overcome their obstacles or fears, or simply reassure them that, not only does your mama care about you and your day, but God cares deeply for your hurts and your joys.

A few years back, I kept a journal for a year recording my highs and lows for the day.  It became a great tool for me to use in my prayer life.  It became natural to praise God for my highs, and ask for guidance and wisdom for my lows.  Somehow in my busy life, this little act game me clarity and simplicity.  It put things in order.  It put things in perspective.  

I just started this little practice again.  When things get jumbled up in my mind I tend to focus on all the lows. When I first started again, I found myself at night with pen in hand, trying to recall a high.  Writing the highs and lows down in my prayer journal has forced me to acknowledge all the good blessings that God is offering me each new day.  I find myself throughout the day thinking, "Oh this is gonna be my high today"  only to say it about something else later, because now, this is what I am focusing on.  

Perhaps my children will one day remember the little game we played, and it will bring them clarity in an otherwise hectic life.  Recounting the events of our day can connect us to our innermost self, our heart.  It also keeps thankfulness and gratitude flowing through us as we see God's hand in our everyday life.  

Shields Up! A Power Ranger Lesson

With all the hype and publicity of the new Power Rangers movie, its really got me reminiscing about all those years back when my kids were "power ranger die-hards."  My one son was probably their biggest fan, hands down!  I kid you not, for 5 years of his life, every picture that I have of him, his arms are up in the power ranger faux karate stance.  Precious!!!!  My day was not complete until he would run into the room, strike his pose, and yell, "shields up!"  This was always followed by him announcing the animal he was morphing into.

As I am remembering this, the thing that catches my attention is "shields up."  Throughout my life when things get too difficult to endure, I put my "shields up."  It's an emotional response to trauma, to  protect a broken heart, or prevent a heart from breaking.  I believe God gave us this coping mechanism for just that reason.  He values our heart above all else.  So much so that he said in Proverbs 4:23 "Above all else guard your heart, for it determines the course of your life" God understands the heart to be the center of the whole person, not just the source of emotions and will, but also of wisdom and perspective.  Basically the heart is who you are as a person.  When we pick unwisely who to give the keys to our heart, we jeopardize the safety of our very selves.  

But God never meant for "shields up" to be a long term solution.  And yet a lot of us are walking around, for years, with those shields in place.  We have been hurt, betrayed, abandoned or abused and the thought of letting that kind of pain in again is almost unbearable.

Picture a warrior in battle, sword drawn and shield up.  The shield protects his very existence, because a blow to his vital organs would mean certain death.  Some of us feel that way.  If we let someone into our heart and they misuse or rejects us, surely we would die.

But God has another solution for us.  he tells us in John 4:18 "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear."

And there it is, vulnerability.  That's what we are really talking about.  When you love and expose your heart, you are vulnerable to loss, abandonment and rejection.  But God says, "in "real" love there is no fear."  And then he really drives the point home by adding, "but perfect love casts out fear."  John 4:18  Wow!  When my eyes fell upon that verse and I really understood what it was saying, I'm certain I heard a hallelujah chorus singing.

There is a time to put my shields up.  When I go into battle.  But there is a danger in keeping my shields up permanently.  I may be protecting my heart from damage, but I am also keeping out love.  If I do not allow love to penetrate my heart, I can never have healing in the broken places, and I can never give love fully. 

The shield I carry around with me, as heavy as it is, had become my companion.  I wasn't sure I could set it down even if it was the best thing for me.  But then I heard God prompting me, and that still small voice spoke tender, loving words.  "I knew that people and the circumstances of life would break your fragile heart.  That you would feel deep hurt from a fallen world, and if left untreated by my healing love, you would carry those wounds throughout your life."  "But you have to lay down your shield and trust me.  The one who loves you perfectly."  

And then I understood.  God had instructed me to guard my heart, but he had never intended for me to guard my heart from Him.  God was simply urging me to chose wisely who to trust something so incredibly valuable to Him.

Planting Seeds

It's that time again.  SPRING!  A time when things bloom, grow, and we have exactly 32 days till the scorching summer heat is upon us in the southwest.  Everywhere you look there are seed packets, vegetable starters and flowering plants.  We all get that itch to dig in the ground, clean up the backyard and drink lemonade.  My son always loved to garden and grow things from the earth.  I loved the planting and harvesting, but not so much the watering.  But since my son will be home from college in 3 weeks, I decided my grandson and I would plant a garden, and Quinn could take over the rest........

Enter my grandson.  Spunky, imaginative, and inquisitive 3 year old that he is.  He loves a shovel, garden gloves and those pretty little seed packets that magically turn into food to eat. So the other day I declared "planting day".  We got our shovels out and prepare the ground, raking away old leaves and debris.  We are just finishing up the prep, when his little sister steps in dog poop.  Ooops.  So I carry her off to the house to wash her feet.  I no sooner got her feet washed in the sink, when  my grandson enters the threshold of the backdoor announcing, "I did it Grandma!  I planted the seeds!"  I look over to see that he is holding a seed packet that contained beans.  Well, that's not so bad at least he only planted one packet.  "Okay honey, I'm coming right out to help you with the rest."  However, as soon as I get out the door I notice it. All the seed packets torn open and laying empty on the ground.  So I ask him where he put the seeds?  In nice little rows I am dreaming.  "I just threw them all in the garden, isn't that great?" And it was.  Every plant that grows will be a mystery, a wonderful surprise, handcrafted by my grandson.  I have to smile at the beautiful thought.

We water the garden with the hose and are cleaning up our mess when my grandson brings me a corn seed.  He holds out this kernel as if it is a precious treasure.  "Grandma, we just put these seeds in the dirty ground and watered it with dirty water, won't we get corn that is all dirty and yucky?"  And I realize where his rationalization is coming from, so I explain that the seed will produce a tall stalk and the corn will grow from that near the top, it wont be in the dirt.  This is the best I can do under the circumstances.  He looks at me and says, "interesting, very interesting."  Again I laugh.  

But his thought process is not all wrong.  How many times have I told my children that "you are who you hang out with."  "pick your friends wisely" and "garbage in, garbage out" If we surround our hearts and lives with things that are rotten, eventually we too will become contaminated in our thinking and actions.  I'm sure that my grandson in his three short years has already understood that to keep a body healthy we have to eat things that are good for us. As much as it pains me, a diet based on ding dongs and candy bars does not make my body strong and beautiful.  

When Jesus said in Philippians 4:8 "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is worthy of praise think about such things,"    I believe he meant to not hang out in the dirt.  While God guards our hearts, we are commanded to keep our focus on things that please God.  That may mean making a decision to not hang out with people who use coarse language, if we find ourselves starting to do the same.  It means not subjecting our heart and thoughts to movies that objectify woman or encourage revenge, judgement and glorify deception.  It means choosing wisely where to invest our time and ultimately our passion.

I never want to put myself in a position to be desensitized to things that displease God.  I want to be on alert, and part of that is to stay away from the poison that can infect my heart.  Our hearts are like a garden in that respect.  What we sow will bear fruit when properly tended to.  But if we do not plant good seeds, or if we neglect good seeds, surely weeds will sprout and take over.  

It really doesn't matter if the "good seeds" of your life are all in neat little rows. Some of us have lives that are messy and cluttered and we are simply doing the best that we can.   What does matter is that you are placing them there and have things growing that will bear fruit.  

Playing Old Records

When I was a kid, my parents had a record player.  They played records when company came over and occasionally my mom played records while doing her household chores.  My sister had records of Shawn Cassidy and the Partridge Family.  (this does not reflect in any way my age, simply hers.)  Whenever I was alone in the house I would turn the record player on, grab a candlestick, and stand on the couch and belt out the lyrics to the song.  I was a real diva!!!  My favorites were the 45's and "Scandinavian Hotshot" was the BEST!

My parents got rid of that record player, and like all things accumulated, it came to my house.  I'm starting to believe they do that so they can come and visit all their stuff.  Hmm. My teenagers loved that old record player.  I scoured the vintage flea markets and Goodwill to collect Elvis albums, and all the rock bands of the 80's.  My son bought his own record player and took it to college with him.  Records seem to be making a comeback.

But some old records need to be thrown out.  I'm talking about emotional ones, the ones where your mind keeps playing your history.  Emotional records are things that people have done to us, or said to us, that caused pain.  Then when someone says anything that resembles and comes close to sounding the same, we get out that old record and sing along.  

The danger and result of playing old records (your emotional history) is that you keep getting more of what you don't want.....emotional damage.  Here is the thing about old records.  They keep you stuck.  They keep you assuming the worst, instead of asking questions.  Old records cause pain.  Past traumas can leave an imprint on our heart, and fill our mind with fear.  Our instinct is to protect ourselves from hurt, so we tend to keep those old records around to remind us of our past history thus protecting us from more damage.

So how do we stop playing the "good ole oldies" of our emotional history?  Sometimes it's as simple as asking more questions.  Was this what you meant?   Repeating back what you heard sometimes is all it takes to remove doubts.  We can also look at the messengers heart to discern their true motive.  And finally we need to take this issue to God.  When we cry out to God, "Search me o God and know my heart, try me and know my anxious thoughts." Psalm 139:23, God will reveal old wounds that we need to address.  Sometimes a little house cleaning in our heart is necessary.  

We have the ability to experience more of what God intended for us if we allow him to help us remove the clutter and the debris from our hearts.  It is never his intention  to keep us in bondage over past hurts.  So keep the old vinyls, the albums and the 45's, but throw out the old records of your emotional history.  Nobody wants to listen to those!

Confession From A Mom Of Teenagers

Having really small children never really stressed me out.  A room full of two year olds was comfort for me.  I remember one day pulling our mini van into the parking space at church, and I looked over and saw a family walking from their car to the sidewalk.  I remember thinking, "look at ALL those kids!"  In my head I counted, Mom, Dad, one, two, three, four.  Wait...  What?  Only four? Why does that family look so BIG?  As I started unloading my children from their car-seats I was again counting in my head.  One, two, three, four, five.  Oh my gosh, my family seemed so small to me.  Those kids on that other family looked like so many!  I'm not very good at math, and now I know I am not so great at perspective either.

Small children I got.  Small children, plus me, equals patience, patience, patience.  The physical demands were more, but I loved it.  The damage to my body to grow, shrink, grow, shrink, grow shrink (well you get the idea) and sustain 5 other lives,well, bring it on!  No sleep?  It's my pleasure.  Potty training, endless accidents, temper tantrums, pink eye, ear infections, It's nothing but a thing.  I was made for this!  But here's the really funny part.  Those babies, they grow into TEENAGERS!  And this mama wasn't wired for that!  Having young children was in my comfort zone.  Because of that it appeared seamless.  I didn't feel like the "perfect" mom, but other's admiration in me, for handling a large family so effortlessly, certainly made me feel like I was worthy.  Worthy of my family, of my friends and of God.

What I wouldn't realize until my children became teenagers, was that grace was waiting for my imperfect self, in all it's glory.

When my kids were still small, I was asked to lead the youth group at church.  I thought well, how bad could it be?   I wanted to serve and if that's where they needed me, okay.  I lasted one night!  I'm not kidding you.  the next day I remember begging to be put in the two year old room.  I couldn't take the drama.  I couldn't take the immaturity.  (funny because we all know how mature 2 year olds are.)  Confiding in a friend over coffee, I told her, "You just can't imagine how horrible teenagers are!"  She looked at me and smiled, "You know someday you will have 5 of them!"

And teenagers they became.  I can't tell you the number of times as each of my kids navigated through their teenage years, that I called my friend in tears and said matter of factly through sobs and wails, "I can't do this." "I'm failing."  Nothing about teenagers was easy for me.  The bag of tricks that had worked so well for me, failed me.  A hug and a band-aid couldn't fix a broken heart.  Tickling them couldn't change a frown into giggles, and man was I so tired trying to stay awake till they came home at curfew time.  I was a fish out of water, but every ounce of me was drowning.

But here is where grace steps in, finding it's way through all the cracks in my shattered perfectionism.  When I plop on the couch at my parents house and declare, "I CANT survive this last teenager!" my parents laugh and say, "Your doing just fine,"  a little grace seeps in.  When a friend puts her arms around me and says, "I know just how you feel," a little more grace seeps in.  When my oldest daughter says, "Mom, you did a great job with me.  Everything will work out," a little more grace falls upon me.

Here is where the verse in Hebrews 4:16 makes all the sense to this flailing mom.  "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."  There is nothing left to do but fall on my knees.  I have come to the end of my ability, and that is where God can get the glory.  His grace washes over me and I learn compassion.  His arms hold me, and in failure, I learn tenderness.  He picks me up and sets me on my right path and I learn dependence and trust.  In my failures God is strong.  When I am at my weakest, God is strongest.  God can take my mess and turn it into a message.  The message is "Love each other, as I have loved you." John 15:12

Wow,  The grace that God so freely and abundantly pours over me, I am called to pour over others.  Others who struggle like me.  Others who feel like failures.  Others who fall well below our own measure stick.  

I realize being worthy has nothing to do with what I can do in my own strength, and everything to do with Jesus.  And to really prove His point, He tells us in 2 Corinthians 12:19 "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  The funny thing about grace is when I accept God's grace in my own life, I can give myself grace.  When I have grace for myself, I can then give grace to to others.

Doing what comes natural and easy for me does not make me grow.  It does not conform me to the image of Christ.  Doing something perfect does not strengthen my dependence on God.  It gives me all the praise.  Doing it out of my own strength, praises the alter of me.  God in his infinite wisdom allows me to struggle just enough to turn to him.  Perhaps He also knows, that my humble heart, will turn to other moms and offer them the beautiful gift of grace.  Babies, toddlers, teenagers, this lasts for only a season, but the road ahead has many more speed bumps to navigate through.   So serve yourself up a big plate of grace and settle in for the ride.

When God Leads You Into The Fire

I have always had a bit of the stage performance bug in me.  In the 5th grade, my church put on a musical "It's Cool In The Furnace."  It was a musical about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, three men who got thrown into the fiery furnace because they would not bow down to King Nebuchadneezar's false idols.  

As a child I marveled at the bravery these three men had to say "No", and follow that, even if they were thrown into the fiery furnace.  They said, "Our God will surely save us," (and then here is the amazing part), "BUT even if he does not, we will not serve your Gods".  Daniel 3.  From my adult perspective, I see something else that happens later in the story.  The men emerge from the fire unharmed, their bindings gone.  King Nebuchadneezer has a change of heart.  He falls to his knees and declares, "Surely your God is the one and only true God.  We will worship only Him from now on."  The courage, the faith and the trust, despite the odds, that these three men had, opened someone else's eyes to God.

It makes me think about the times I have been in the fire in my own life.  Times when I was in a hard spot, when I was dealing with the consequences of my bad decisions, or dealing with unresolved pain.  Like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, I was bound and shackled, unable to move and save myself.  I was bound by my own limitations and shackled by rejection, hurt and betrayal.  

Like a blacksmith heats his metal in the furnace to refine away impurities, make it strong, and mold it into what he wants it to be, so too does God with us.  God in his grace and wisdom leads us into the fire.  

Let's just get real here for a moment.  I don't like the fire.  I go kicking and screaming into it.  The fire is painful emotionally.  It burns away that veil that I have put up to conceal the things that I don't want to see in myself.  It leaves me raw and exposed.  Sometimes I can feel when I am approaching the fire, like when I hold on to resentment, or when I find myself struggling with emotions and issues I thought I had long since conquered.  Other times I don't see the fire coming at all, like when I ignore old wounds for too long, make bad choices, feel lost, defeated and all alone.  But Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, show me something else.  God did not rescue them FROM the fire, instead he rescued them IN the fire. 

Why?  Because the fire does three things.  The first is that it refines us.  It burns away untruth, those lies we believe about ourselves that God says are not true.  It replaces it with the truth about who we are, loved and accepted by an amazing God.

Second, the fire makes us stronger.  It tempers our heart by decreasing our self reliance and increasing our self awareness.  It softens our heart so that we can hear the word of God.  He may do this through other people or events in our lives, or he may speak to us in his still soft voice in our spirit.  Through this process we get clarity and a new perspective of what God wants and desires from us, and for us. 

The third thing the fire does, is it allows us to have our character molded into who God called us to be so that we can move forward with the richness and blessings He had planned for our lives. 

Sometimes God will lead you into the fire.  This has been the case with me.  I never really wanted to go, but now I trust him to go with me to the scary places. Like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, when the pagans looked into the furnace they saw not 3 men, but four men unbound, walking amidst the flames, and instantly declared that the 4th man was the son of God.  God will never ask me or you, to go alone. God is in there with us to wipe our tears, forgive us, and assure us that everything will be okay. He does not want us to be hurt by leading us here, he simply wants to bring us to a better place, refined and beautiful and blessed.

When I look back I can see that the places of calm and easy spaces in my life, have never strengthened me.  People who are challenged with situations and struggles either come out bitter or blessed.  I have learned to embrace those times when God leads me into the fire.  Not because it is not painful, but because when I walk out my bindings will be gone, and I well be free to love and be loved completely.  

God has a purpose in the fire.  Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose."  When we find ourselves thrown into the blazing furnace, we need to remember that the God we serve is able to deliver us from it.  We serve a loving, tender God, who loves us to much to leave us where we are at.   When we are called to "come out" of the fire, we will be a new creation, refined and blessed.  

Hide and Seek

One of my favorite games as I was growing up, was playing "kick the can" on my aunt and uncle's farm.  It was a version of hide and seek.  After it got dark, my cousins and I would take an old tin can and set it in between the house and the barn, in the wide open space.  One person would close their eyes and count, and everyone else would scatter to our hiding spots.  As the seeker discovered people, they would have to be tagged to be out.  The can came into play if someone managed to "kick" it, then everyone tugged would go free and the person would have to start counting all over again.  

Like my own kids used to do,  my grand-kids love to play hide and seek.  In fact I almost always suggested the idea, and I insisted that I be the seeker.  Why you ask?  Because the hiders have to be quiet! And still, staying in one place, until I find them!  And I'm a really bad seeker.  (wink, wink)  Here is a tip.  When your hiding from the children, don't have your cell phone in your pocket.  It's like a clanging beacon to those little gremlins when it goes off!

Although "hide and seek" was a fun game when we were little, and a great quiet time when we are adults, some of us are still playing "hide and seek" in our own lives.  We are hiding our true selves.  Afraid if anyone really saw us, they would reject us, find us lacking, and be disappointed.  So we pretend to fine, when our heart is aching.  We pretend to be strong when we feel at our weakest, and we pretend to be what makes everyone else more comfortable.  But here is the thing about hiding.  Remember when you were a kid playing and you were hiding, waiting to be found?  What if, no one ever came to find you?  What if, just short of finding you, they all quit playing?  It would make you feel very unimportant, irrelevant, and not worth the effort.  

No matter how much we all like hiding, all of us like to be found.  We wait with excitement, our hearts pounding so loud we are sure it will give us away.  We hold our breath as the footsteps get closer as to not make a sound.   You see we don't want the finding of us to be easy.  We want to be searched for, pursued, sought after and discovered.  Because anything with great value is worth the effort.

When we are hiding our true selves, we want someone to say, "I see the real you, it's amazing, you can come out now."  The one person we can't hide from is God.  He sees us.  Always.  And He loves us. Always. Why wouldn't He?  After all, we are one of his masterpieces, created on purpose and designed for a purpose.  God says we are very important, very relevant and of GREAT worth!  

Do you ever notice when  you played "hide and seek", no one ever wanted to be the seeker?  We would all immediately yell, "not it!" But when it was our turn to seek, we didn't want to fail.  There was a lot of pressure.  While you were finding (seeking) one person, someone else might slip by.  Some of us were "hard wired" to be seekers.  Seekers in life are always looking for an answer to  the why, or how, or the truth.  They are continually on the hunt to grow and expand their understanding of their own heart and the heart of others.  Seekers will turn over every stone to "find" that one gem of understanding.  Just like in hide and seek, it's not about the hunt to find all the hiding spots, its about the victory.

Over the years I have perfected the art of hiding.  I thought I was protecting my heart from a catastrophic blow.  I couldn't take one more rejection, one more criticism, one more "you are not enough"  or one more "you are too much."  I had this continual battle going on in my heart.  "Don't show the real you, you will get hurt," or "Please someone find me, see me."  

And then God spoke to me those four little words........  "Olly, olly, oxen free."  Which means:  It is safe to emerge from hiding.........................................

Giving Grace

Today I spent the day with my two precious grandchildren.  Within minutes of walking through their front door, I knew something was amiss.  The littlest one was wrapped in her blankie and snugly tucked up into the arms of her uncle.  Two runny noses and one breakdown on the floor with real tears, and I knew my two little lovies were feeling sick.

The morning was rough, with smiles only coming out when I miraculously found two dum dum suckers roaming around the bottom of my purse.  (thank goodness I never clean that thing out)  I was under strict instructions "no candy" but desperate times called for desperate measures!  When I heard the "crunch" of the sucker between my grandson's teeth, I knew my stall technique was nearing its expiration date.

Sure enough 5 minutes later there was a catastrophic meltdown.  The littlest one looked at her brother wrong, he looked at her wrong, the little one starts crying, my grandson starts crying LOUDLY, stomps his feet running all the way to his room and slams the door.  I am left speechless, eyebrows raised, thinking wait.... what just happened?  And..... he's only three and that was a total teenager move.    Impressive.  It only takes me four seconds to jump to my feet and make it to his door.  When my hand turns the knob, it's locked.  I can hear him sobbing loudly on his bed, and I don't need tell you how not a good idea it is to have an upset three year old behind a locked door.  I NEEDED to get in there!  Within ten seconds I had already scanned my brain for options.  I could 1. pick the lock.  ( but it's not my house and it would take me way to long to locate anything useful 2. break the door down (this would probably traumatize him) 3. demand he open the door. ( which never really works when a three year old is holding all the cards.)  But something nudged in my spirit and I got down on my knees and spoke through the crack in the door frame.  "Pumpkin pie, I love you.  I want to take you in my arms and tell you how special you are."  The loud sobbing stopped just as abruptly as it started.   The littlest one pattered over to the door and joined me.  "You need a great big hug and lots of loving."  The door swung open and seeing his little sister he swooped her up in his arms.

Isn't that what we all need on a bad day?  A day when we feel lousy and touchy?  We need to be loved right where we are at.  We don't need a lecture or a "buck up mister", we need grace.  That is exactly the kind of love and compassion that God gives us.  Broken bodies, broken hearts and broken dreams find refuge and mercy in God's arms.  He calls out to us in a tender loving voice, " come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. "  Matthew 11:28.  And my favorite verse of all time "God draws near to the brokenhearted and crushed in spirit."  Psalm 34:18

We have this great opportunity to show others God's great gift of mercy and grace.  We can model to our children or grandchildren, that no matter where they are at, that our loving arms and God's embrace can bring comfort and acceptance even on a dark day.

The dum dum sucker may have only lasted a minute, but the grace that was served up that day, will be etched on my grandson's heart forever.

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