Be warned - this is a mommy post.
Today my son started middle school. Ahhh . . . junior high, that lovely time between childhood dependance and high school freedom where everyone is awkward, everyone tries to hide it, and everyone is unsuccessful.
I cried. I waited until he was gone, out of the car, in the building, on his way to class. I watched as he found his friend, hearing the cackles of their laughter as they made their way up the stairs, and I turned my head, and I cried.
I didn't cry because I was sad. I didn't cry because I was scared. I didn't cry because I was worried.
I prayed as we drove away from the school. I prayed for courage for him and I prayed for peace for me. Usually, when I pray for peace, it comes instantly. In fact, I usually just speak the word peace, and peace comes.
But not today. Today the tears spilled from my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to contain them. I continued to talk to the Lord, telling him that I knew he was taking care of my son, that he was in control, that he was with us all the time, that he loved us more than we could possibly understand - that he loves my son more than I could.
Yet still the tears came. I asked the Lord to take them away, and I felt like he said, "Why? Your tears are fine. Your tears are a reflection of your heart. Let them come."
And so I did. And then peace came.
My Father used my role as a mother to be my Father today. I know that seems like a rolling sentence, but it's true. As I sat in the car, trying to name my emotions, realizing that I wasn't sad or scared or worried, I finally came to see - these emotions, this stuff - it's just being a parent. It's love.
This love is a product of all you've worked on with your child. It's equal parts hope and exasperation. It's laughter and tears - sometimes at the same time. This love is both healing and cleansing, celebration and joy, discipline and strength.
And as much as I hate the cliche - this love is having your heart beat outside of your body. It's watching your child go forth, and thinking - there goes my life. It's your heart breaking, as he takes on new risks, meets new people, tries new things.
I've heard people say, when dealing with a broken bone - "It's a good break." I always thought that was a weird thing to say. I get what they mean - if you have to break a bone, this was a good way to do it. It'll heal well, be good as new, stronger than ever. But still - a good break?
Today I get it. Today my heart broke a little. But it's a good break. It'll heal well, be good as new, be stronger than ever.
And I'll probably still cry.
Friday, August 8, 2014
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Questions That Need To Be Asked
Ah . . . questions . . .
Questions fill our days, fill our minds. Questions can either drive us crazy when they seem unanswerable or they can stretch our reality when the answer challenges our norms.
I love questions. I love discussion. I even love questions that can't be answered - because I love the gift that comes with it.
It's the gift of wonderment. You know wonderment - that strange emotion that combines puzzling, dizzying, surprising thoughts, swirling and spiraling, pushing boundaries, lifting limits. The gift of wonderment is the gift of "what if?" What if . . .
What if I'm wrong and he's right? What if there are aliens? What if something bad happens? What if . . . ?
Questions are both fulfilling and draining. Questions are about lifting up and breaking down. Questions create calm and wreak havoc.
Questions are around us everyday, but because they have the potential to disturb our carefully crafted and cautiously guarded peace, we often stuff them down, as if not addressing the questions will kill the questions themselves.
I have found that questions never really go away. In a moment of quiet, in a moment when our defenses are down, the questions rise up. As Christians, we will sometimes give Satan completely undue credit - as if questions are a trick of the enemy. Can they be used against us? Of course. Satan will try to use every good thing against us!
But what if we embraced our questions, head on, as a gift from God instead of a scheme of Satan? What if God wants us to ask questions? What if He is inviting the questions?
What if we really explored the question - what it means, why we are asking - to get to the bottom of our need?
God - listen to me now - God has REALLY BIG SHOULDERS. Your questions don't hurt his feelings or ruffle his feathers. The God who can hold all the waters of the earth in the palm of his hand, who can measure all the galaxies of space with his fingers - this God is not offended by your questions.
So ask them. Ask him, the Author of Truth, the one whose name is Faithful and True - ask him your questions. And then look - look for the answers.
Ask why - why did he leave? Why did she die? Why am I lonely?
Ask who - who are you God? Who are you really? For heaven's sake - who am I?
Ask what - what is the meaning of all this? What were you thinking?
Ask when - when will I get what I'm asking for? When will I find what I need? When will I have peace?
Ask where - where are you? Where were you when I was hurting?
Ask all the questions. Wrestle with them. Be prepared to not like the answers. Be prepared to know God in a whole new way.
Be prepared to love God in a whole new way.
God is not afraid of your questions. He's not afraid of you at all! The truth is, you are the one who is afraid. You are afraid you'll make God mad. That you are risking eternity. That you are risking everything. You are afraid that you won't like the answer. You are afraid that there won't be an answer.
And that, my friends, is the scheme of Satan. Convincing you to hide your true self from the one who made you. Convincing you to build a wall between you and God. Convincing you to settle for less than true, intimate fellowship with our one true love.
You may not have questions. Great! You may not know what your questions are, because you have stiffled them for so long. That's ok. Go somewhere quiet, be alone, and just let your thoughts flow.
The questions will come.
And that's ok.
Questions fill our days, fill our minds. Questions can either drive us crazy when they seem unanswerable or they can stretch our reality when the answer challenges our norms.
I love questions. I love discussion. I even love questions that can't be answered - because I love the gift that comes with it.
It's the gift of wonderment. You know wonderment - that strange emotion that combines puzzling, dizzying, surprising thoughts, swirling and spiraling, pushing boundaries, lifting limits. The gift of wonderment is the gift of "what if?" What if . . .
What if I'm wrong and he's right? What if there are aliens? What if something bad happens? What if . . . ?
Questions are both fulfilling and draining. Questions are about lifting up and breaking down. Questions create calm and wreak havoc.
Questions are around us everyday, but because they have the potential to disturb our carefully crafted and cautiously guarded peace, we often stuff them down, as if not addressing the questions will kill the questions themselves.
I have found that questions never really go away. In a moment of quiet, in a moment when our defenses are down, the questions rise up. As Christians, we will sometimes give Satan completely undue credit - as if questions are a trick of the enemy. Can they be used against us? Of course. Satan will try to use every good thing against us!
But what if we embraced our questions, head on, as a gift from God instead of a scheme of Satan? What if God wants us to ask questions? What if He is inviting the questions?
What if we really explored the question - what it means, why we are asking - to get to the bottom of our need?
God - listen to me now - God has REALLY BIG SHOULDERS. Your questions don't hurt his feelings or ruffle his feathers. The God who can hold all the waters of the earth in the palm of his hand, who can measure all the galaxies of space with his fingers - this God is not offended by your questions.
So ask them. Ask him, the Author of Truth, the one whose name is Faithful and True - ask him your questions. And then look - look for the answers.
Ask why - why did he leave? Why did she die? Why am I lonely?
Ask who - who are you God? Who are you really? For heaven's sake - who am I?
Ask what - what is the meaning of all this? What were you thinking?
Ask when - when will I get what I'm asking for? When will I find what I need? When will I have peace?
Ask where - where are you? Where were you when I was hurting?
Ask all the questions. Wrestle with them. Be prepared to not like the answers. Be prepared to know God in a whole new way.
Be prepared to love God in a whole new way.
God is not afraid of your questions. He's not afraid of you at all! The truth is, you are the one who is afraid. You are afraid you'll make God mad. That you are risking eternity. That you are risking everything. You are afraid that you won't like the answer. You are afraid that there won't be an answer.
And that, my friends, is the scheme of Satan. Convincing you to hide your true self from the one who made you. Convincing you to build a wall between you and God. Convincing you to settle for less than true, intimate fellowship with our one true love.
You may not have questions. Great! You may not know what your questions are, because you have stiffled them for so long. That's ok. Go somewhere quiet, be alone, and just let your thoughts flow.
The questions will come.
And that's ok.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Innocence Lost
My husband and I took our man-child to see a movie this week. We are on vacation, visiting friends, and had some time to kill before our next outing. A movie, we thought. Buttery popcorn, fantasy action, and most importantly on a hot summer day - air conditioning!
I usually research movies we see, checking on the appropriateness of the content and language. I don't want to poison my child's mind, let alone mine! But in the last few months, I've been very lax about doing it. And today . . .
The very first word of the movie was a cuss word. I cringed, looked at Samuel, and he looked up at me with big eyes.
I should have left right then. Should have insisted, should have been willing to run the risk of everyone being mad at me. I should have been willing to be called a prude. Because the language got worse and worse, until it finally culminated, toward the end, in the F-word.
There's a reason it's referred to as the f bomb. Because that word exploded in my mind and in my heart, and with dread I once again looked at Samuel, and he looked at me with VERY big eyes. I covered my face with my hands in shame, fought back tears, and prayed for forgiveness and for protection for my baby's heart.
But we stayed and finished the movie.
I am so ashamed of that fact. .
Walking out of the theater, I asked Samuel about the word. At first he tried to play it cool - he is 11, after all - but when I reminded him that I saw his face . . . Yes, he said. He heard it. No, he had never heard it before, although he had heard of it.
I started to cry. In public. In the parking lot. My little man grabbed my hand - right there in front of everyone - and said, it's ok, mom.
But it's not ok.
Romans 12 says to hate what is evil and cling to what is good. The Message version puts it this way: "Love from the center of who you are; don’t fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good."
I usually research movies we see, checking on the appropriateness of the content and language. I don't want to poison my child's mind, let alone mine! But in the last few months, I've been very lax about doing it. And today . . .
The very first word of the movie was a cuss word. I cringed, looked at Samuel, and he looked up at me with big eyes.
I should have left right then. Should have insisted, should have been willing to run the risk of everyone being mad at me. I should have been willing to be called a prude. Because the language got worse and worse, until it finally culminated, toward the end, in the F-word.
There's a reason it's referred to as the f bomb. Because that word exploded in my mind and in my heart, and with dread I once again looked at Samuel, and he looked at me with VERY big eyes. I covered my face with my hands in shame, fought back tears, and prayed for forgiveness and for protection for my baby's heart.
But we stayed and finished the movie.
I am so ashamed of that fact. .
Walking out of the theater, I asked Samuel about the word. At first he tried to play it cool - he is 11, after all - but when I reminded him that I saw his face . . . Yes, he said. He heard it. No, he had never heard it before, although he had heard of it.
I started to cry. In public. In the parking lot. My little man grabbed my hand - right there in front of everyone - and said, it's ok, mom.
But it's not ok.
Romans 12 says to hate what is evil and cling to what is good. The Message version puts it this way: "Love from the center of who you are; don’t fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good."
I am concerned that I - part of church, the bride of Christ - am not disgusted by sin. I am concerned that I am not repelled by sin. I am concerned that sin is so easy to see in the world that at times I don't even notice it.
I am concerned that I do not run for dear life. I am so ashamed of that fact.
Innocence is like a huge slab of marble, waiting to be chipped away, like a sculpture. No piece that is taken away can be put back on. Innocence cannot be regenerated. Once it is gone, it's gone. You may read this story, and think - sheesh. Dial it down a bit. It's one word.
And I say, it's one word that is now in his mind. A word that has no redeeming value, a word that is meant to shock, a word whose very character is reprehensible.
Here's what I think - why would I allow anything into my child's life that we don't do or use or say at home? We don't say certain words, we don't do certain things - and we don't do those things on purpose. So why oh why would I ever want to expose an innocent heart and mind to them?
Sometimes I think that we as Christians think that exposure to sin is unavoidable. While I don't purposefully teach that - in my home or in my ministry - am I teaching that with my actions? If I tell my child that sin is a choice but don't take a stand about sin in our lives... What is the real lesson?
Innocence is like a huge slab of marble, waiting to be chipped away, like a sculpture. No piece that is taken away can be put back on. Innocence cannot be regenerated. Once it is gone, it's gone. You may read this story, and think - sheesh. Dial it down a bit. It's one word.
And I say, it's one word that is now in his mind. A word that has no redeeming value, a word that is meant to shock, a word whose very character is reprehensible.
Here's what I think - why would I allow anything into my child's life that we don't do or use or say at home? We don't say certain words, we don't do certain things - and we don't do those things on purpose. So why oh why would I ever want to expose an innocent heart and mind to them?
Sometimes I think that we as Christians think that exposure to sin is unavoidable. While I don't purposefully teach that - in my home or in my ministry - am I teaching that with my actions? If I tell my child that sin is a choice but don't take a stand about sin in our lives... What is the real lesson?
Some sin is unavoidable, if we are going to live and work in this world. But we certainly don't need to seek it out. We don't need to accept it as normal. And we definitely don't need to let it into our homes, hearts and minds.
I am ashamed I didn't take a stand that day. I wish I could show my son that God's way is worth standing up for. All I can do now is be prepared for next time.
Because I am sure there will be a next time.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Please forgive me for not having written in awhile. And please forgive me for what I'm writing today. This is about tennis, but if you know me - tennis is life!
My son once asked me, “Why do you love tennis so much?”
Why?
Because . . .
Tennis is art. Tennis is beauty. Tennis is life. It is grace with strength, elegance with power, sophistication with might. A strange juxtaposition of seeming opposites that, when fused together in this particular game of sport, create perfect poetry in motion.
Tennis asks the grand questions of life: will you commit? Will you stay motivated? Will you respond? Will you be invincible? Will you play each point like your future depends on it? Will you get back up when you fall down? Will you serve again when you double fault? Will you win the next point when you lost the last?
Will you persevere, or will you give up?
Tennis reveals your character. It is one against one. If you lose, if you double fault, if you hit the ball long, it’s no one else’s fault but your own. Tennis reveals your drive. You are offense and defense, in the same game, at the same time, as the same player. Tennis reveals your preparation. It is practicing the same stroke, the same swing, again and again and again. Tennis reveals your work ethic. Because trophies are won when no one is watching, day after day, practice after practice. Alone.
Tennis is mental toughness. Tennis is emotional isolation. Tennis is staggering seclusion. Just you and your opponent. No coaches calling a time out, no substitutions for fatigue. An epic struggle engaged by two warriors with everything to gain AND everything to lose. It is a battle between two soldiers that involves the world; multiple countries represented in a single match. The audience reacts in appreciation, from subdued whispers to triumphant shouts. The crowd cheers, the crowd jeers. The nations unite, oooing and ahhing at precise baselines and thunderous serves.
Tennis is overcoming fear – not of your opponent, but your own flaws and failures. Tennis is overcoming your limits – digging deep when you are tired and hurting. Tennis is overcoming the pain – the bleeding fingers and the blistered toes and the sore muscles and the pulled hamstrings.
Tennis is action and reaction. It is proactive and reactive. It is massive. It is small. It is the huge gesture, and the smallest detail.
Tennis is balletic. Tennis is athletic. Tennis is magnetic.
Tennis is life. And that’s why I love it so much.
My son once asked me, “Why do you love tennis so much?”
Why?
Because . . .
Tennis is art. Tennis is beauty. Tennis is life. It is grace with strength, elegance with power, sophistication with might. A strange juxtaposition of seeming opposites that, when fused together in this particular game of sport, create perfect poetry in motion.
Tennis asks the grand questions of life: will you commit? Will you stay motivated? Will you respond? Will you be invincible? Will you play each point like your future depends on it? Will you get back up when you fall down? Will you serve again when you double fault? Will you win the next point when you lost the last?
Will you persevere, or will you give up?
Tennis reveals your character. It is one against one. If you lose, if you double fault, if you hit the ball long, it’s no one else’s fault but your own. Tennis reveals your drive. You are offense and defense, in the same game, at the same time, as the same player. Tennis reveals your preparation. It is practicing the same stroke, the same swing, again and again and again. Tennis reveals your work ethic. Because trophies are won when no one is watching, day after day, practice after practice. Alone.
Tennis is mental toughness. Tennis is emotional isolation. Tennis is staggering seclusion. Just you and your opponent. No coaches calling a time out, no substitutions for fatigue. An epic struggle engaged by two warriors with everything to gain AND everything to lose. It is a battle between two soldiers that involves the world; multiple countries represented in a single match. The audience reacts in appreciation, from subdued whispers to triumphant shouts. The crowd cheers, the crowd jeers. The nations unite, oooing and ahhing at precise baselines and thunderous serves.
Tennis is overcoming fear – not of your opponent, but your own flaws and failures. Tennis is overcoming your limits – digging deep when you are tired and hurting. Tennis is overcoming the pain – the bleeding fingers and the blistered toes and the sore muscles and the pulled hamstrings.
Tennis is action and reaction. It is proactive and reactive. It is massive. It is small. It is the huge gesture, and the smallest detail.
Tennis is balletic. Tennis is athletic. Tennis is magnetic.
Tennis is life. And that’s why I love it so much.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
"It's Happening!"
I had the best dream this morning, just before I woke up.
Best. Dream. Ever.
I dreamed I was in some kind of open-ended pavilion. I was working on an event, standing at a high table, looking at floor maps and seating arrangements. I was standing with a friend, Chris Davis, discussing where we were going to put people. Another friend, Jen Smith, walked up and handed me a couple of voucher slips for payment. I very much remember that one was for $10, and it was marked, "payment for services rendered." The other one was a reimbursement for $7 (from the Dollar Tree!). Jen wanted me to see the vouchers - apparently she was in charge of the budget for the event! I remember saying, I don't need the payment, but I'll take the reimbursement. And she said, I'll take care of it and walked away. Chris and I went back to working on the floor plan for our event.
About that time I looked out the end of the pavilion and glanced up at the sky. The sky was blue - beautiful, pure blue, like the most perfect summer day. There were clouds racing across the sky, swirling and changing, but not in a frightening way.
I started to say, hey, look at those clouds, they look like -
And then suddenly I realized they didn't look like . . . they were!
They were taking the form of turrets on a castle, but in my dream mind I was thinking the word spires. Chris and Jen and I ran out of the pavilion, and I said:
It's happening!
Pure white clouds were chasing each other into view, but they weren't just clouds. They were taking the form of a city, in the sky, all around us. We stood there, transfixed, smiles as wide as miles on our faces. Suddenly I looked up to my right, and saw people being formed out of the clouds, stepping down into rows and rows and rows. Some were angels, some were people, and they stood around us - in the air, on invisible risers, it seemed.
I thought, the Great Cloud of Witnesses!
I looked at one woman in the sky. She had long hair, pulled up in a bun, and layers of beautiful white robes. She looked down at me and smiled. I waved, feeling very foolish for doing so, but she chuckled and waved back.
All the people I saw in the sky were moving while standing still. I don't know how to describe it adequately. They were formed of clouds - pure, white, bright clouds. Just as clouds move and form in the heavens, so were the clouds within the people moving. They were all smiling, expectant, loving.
There was a city forming behind them, also made of clouds. Buildings, houses. Even trees. Bright, dazzling, pure white.
Everything - people, angels, buildings - were waiting for something. Waiting for something to happen. Happy, joyful - like children on Christmas morning. I waited and watched with them, hoping to see what they were seeing, and what they were waiting for.
And then I woke up.
So I looked up the verse in Hebrews about the great cloud of witnesses, and suddenly I knew what the people were expecting:
Best. Dream. Ever.
Best. Dream. Ever.
I dreamed I was in some kind of open-ended pavilion. I was working on an event, standing at a high table, looking at floor maps and seating arrangements. I was standing with a friend, Chris Davis, discussing where we were going to put people. Another friend, Jen Smith, walked up and handed me a couple of voucher slips for payment. I very much remember that one was for $10, and it was marked, "payment for services rendered." The other one was a reimbursement for $7 (from the Dollar Tree!). Jen wanted me to see the vouchers - apparently she was in charge of the budget for the event! I remember saying, I don't need the payment, but I'll take the reimbursement. And she said, I'll take care of it and walked away. Chris and I went back to working on the floor plan for our event.
About that time I looked out the end of the pavilion and glanced up at the sky. The sky was blue - beautiful, pure blue, like the most perfect summer day. There were clouds racing across the sky, swirling and changing, but not in a frightening way.
I started to say, hey, look at those clouds, they look like -
And then suddenly I realized they didn't look like . . . they were!
They were taking the form of turrets on a castle, but in my dream mind I was thinking the word spires. Chris and Jen and I ran out of the pavilion, and I said:
It's happening!
Pure white clouds were chasing each other into view, but they weren't just clouds. They were taking the form of a city, in the sky, all around us. We stood there, transfixed, smiles as wide as miles on our faces. Suddenly I looked up to my right, and saw people being formed out of the clouds, stepping down into rows and rows and rows. Some were angels, some were people, and they stood around us - in the air, on invisible risers, it seemed.
I thought, the Great Cloud of Witnesses!
I looked at one woman in the sky. She had long hair, pulled up in a bun, and layers of beautiful white robes. She looked down at me and smiled. I waved, feeling very foolish for doing so, but she chuckled and waved back.
All the people I saw in the sky were moving while standing still. I don't know how to describe it adequately. They were formed of clouds - pure, white, bright clouds. Just as clouds move and form in the heavens, so were the clouds within the people moving. They were all smiling, expectant, loving.
There was a city forming behind them, also made of clouds. Buildings, houses. Even trees. Bright, dazzling, pure white.
Everything - people, angels, buildings - were waiting for something. Waiting for something to happen. Happy, joyful - like children on Christmas morning. I waited and watched with them, hoping to see what they were seeing, and what they were waiting for.
And then I woke up.
So I looked up the verse in Hebrews about the great cloud of witnesses, and suddenly I knew what the people were expecting:
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (12:1-2)I can't wait to see that throne, and my God, and my Jesus, and that city, and those witnesses.
Best. Dream. Ever.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
I Worshiped God Today
I worshiped God today.
It's Sunday. The Lord's day. The day I always go to church. The day I always worship. The day I lead. The day I serve. The day I sing.
The problem was . . . I didn't feel it today. I didn't feel like worshiping, I didn't feel like leading, I didn't feel like serving. I didn't feel like singing. I didn't feel anything today.
First thing this morning, I had a "preteen" issue at home. As soon as I got to church, I had doubts about my top and felt self-conscious. In Sunday School, I ripped my skirt. After class, I realized an event I had planned for tomorrow wasn't going to work and I was going to have to cancel. By the time I got to the platform to sing with the praise team, I was done.
But even without all that, I didn't feel it. I didn't have that excitement to go to church like a normally do. I didn't want to see my friends and family, fellowship with each other while we fellowship with God. I just didn't want any of it.
And so I worshiped God today.
I have this spot that I like to look at when I sing at church. It's up to my right, where the wall meets the ceiling. I like to imagine that the roof of the church opens up, the clouds roll back, and it's just me and God, face to face. I am often able to block out everyone and everything, and just focus on him. Intimate worship, just God and me.
But not today. I couldn't block anything out. I couldn't compartmentalize. Emotionally I felt dull. Mentally I felt tired. Spiritually I felt drained. I even felt strange physically. So what did I do?
I worshiped God today. Anyway.
I closed my eyes. I raised my hands. I focused on him. But I didn't feel different. I didn't get emotional and break down in tears. I didn't have a moment of mental clarity. I didn't receive some spiritual call. Absolutely nothing changed. And nothing has changed still.
Yet I worshiped God today.
Worshiping only when I feel like it puts the emphasis on me. And that's backwards. Worshiping in order to feel better also puts the emphasis on me. Also backwards. Whether or not we worship has nothing to do with us. It's only about him - God. We worship because he is worthy. We worship because we need to. We worship because we are told to. We worship because we have no other choice.
I worshiped God today. I didn't feel like it. But I worshiped. Not because he encourages it, but because he commands it. Not because he needs it, but because I need it. Not because of who I am, but because of who he is.
I worshiped God today.
It's Sunday. The Lord's day. The day I always go to church. The day I always worship. The day I lead. The day I serve. The day I sing.
The problem was . . . I didn't feel it today. I didn't feel like worshiping, I didn't feel like leading, I didn't feel like serving. I didn't feel like singing. I didn't feel anything today.
First thing this morning, I had a "preteen" issue at home. As soon as I got to church, I had doubts about my top and felt self-conscious. In Sunday School, I ripped my skirt. After class, I realized an event I had planned for tomorrow wasn't going to work and I was going to have to cancel. By the time I got to the platform to sing with the praise team, I was done.
But even without all that, I didn't feel it. I didn't have that excitement to go to church like a normally do. I didn't want to see my friends and family, fellowship with each other while we fellowship with God. I just didn't want any of it.
And so I worshiped God today.
I have this spot that I like to look at when I sing at church. It's up to my right, where the wall meets the ceiling. I like to imagine that the roof of the church opens up, the clouds roll back, and it's just me and God, face to face. I am often able to block out everyone and everything, and just focus on him. Intimate worship, just God and me.
But not today. I couldn't block anything out. I couldn't compartmentalize. Emotionally I felt dull. Mentally I felt tired. Spiritually I felt drained. I even felt strange physically. So what did I do?
I worshiped God today. Anyway.
I closed my eyes. I raised my hands. I focused on him. But I didn't feel different. I didn't get emotional and break down in tears. I didn't have a moment of mental clarity. I didn't receive some spiritual call. Absolutely nothing changed. And nothing has changed still.
Yet I worshiped God today.
Worshiping only when I feel like it puts the emphasis on me. And that's backwards. Worshiping in order to feel better also puts the emphasis on me. Also backwards. Whether or not we worship has nothing to do with us. It's only about him - God. We worship because he is worthy. We worship because we need to. We worship because we are told to. We worship because we have no other choice.
Praise the Lord!
Praise him, all his angels;Praise him, sun and moon,praise him, all you shining stars!And he established them forever and ever; he gave a decree, and it shall not pass away. Psalm 148-1-6
I worshiped God today. I didn't feel like it. But I worshiped. Not because he encourages it, but because he commands it. Not because he needs it, but because I need it. Not because of who I am, but because of who he is.
I worshiped God today.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
All of Me
I had to have some medical tests today.
This morning I dropped my son off to school, like normal, and decided to go to my favorite diner and have my favorite breakfast (rye toast, bacon, fried potatoes) and play my current favorite phone game (Bubble Worlds). I guess I was trying to busy myself. I wasn't worried, I was trusting God that He would take care of me, whether the test was positive or negative.
The radio was playing at the diner, and though I usually tune stuff out, I heard the song "All of Me" by John Legend came on. It's a beautiful song, very simple - just one voice and a piano. I don't listen to the radio much, but I've heard it before, and I really like it. The chorus goes like this:
Fast forward to an hour later. I'm laying on an examination table, watching my ultrasound on the computer screen. Of course, I don't know what I'm looking at, so I was just kind of praying, kind of thinking. All of a sudden, I became a little scared. Then I got a little angry with myself for being scared. A tear trickled down my cheek.
Suddenly, the Lord spoke the words of the song to me: "All of me loves all of you." And the fear vanished.
Wow.
You may think I'm crazy, believing that God would use some man's love song to his wife to comfort me. I'm totally ok with you thinking that. I know the moment, and nothing will ever change it for me.
I started to think about God's love for me. I started to think about him singing over me, like it says in Zephaniah 3:17: "He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing." I thought about just what it meant for all of God to love all of me. God. Me. The great big, immortal, massive, King of Kings, Creator of the Universe, Lover of my soul, unshakeable, impenetrable, unchangeable - that God loves me. All of the facets of his character love me. Everything he is . . . loves me.
Loves all of me. The good stuff. The bad stuff. The strengths. The weaknesses. The rights. The wrongs. The past. The future. The ugly. The beautiful.
Just soak in that for a minute, and then say with me . . . wow.
I wasn't afraid anymore. No matter the diagnosis, no matter the outcome, God loves me. God. Loves. Me. And he loves you! That is truth, and truth is what sets us free. What is there to ever be afraid of, when the one who spoke the world into being wants to rejoice over me? Sing over me? Take delight in me?
What does that say about him, and what does it say about me?
My test results came back fine. No problems. But problems will come, in all of our lives, and the truth will still be the same. All of God loves all of me. That knowledge should change me, make me bold, strong, courageous. No earthly circumstances can change the eternal truth:
God loves me.
This morning I dropped my son off to school, like normal, and decided to go to my favorite diner and have my favorite breakfast (rye toast, bacon, fried potatoes) and play my current favorite phone game (Bubble Worlds). I guess I was trying to busy myself. I wasn't worried, I was trusting God that He would take care of me, whether the test was positive or negative.
The radio was playing at the diner, and though I usually tune stuff out, I heard the song "All of Me" by John Legend came on. It's a beautiful song, very simple - just one voice and a piano. I don't listen to the radio much, but I've heard it before, and I really like it. The chorus goes like this:
'Cause all of mePretty, right? Sweet, loving...
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
Give your all to me
I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I'm winning
'Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you, oh
Fast forward to an hour later. I'm laying on an examination table, watching my ultrasound on the computer screen. Of course, I don't know what I'm looking at, so I was just kind of praying, kind of thinking. All of a sudden, I became a little scared. Then I got a little angry with myself for being scared. A tear trickled down my cheek.
Suddenly, the Lord spoke the words of the song to me: "All of me loves all of you." And the fear vanished.
Wow.
You may think I'm crazy, believing that God would use some man's love song to his wife to comfort me. I'm totally ok with you thinking that. I know the moment, and nothing will ever change it for me.
I started to think about God's love for me. I started to think about him singing over me, like it says in Zephaniah 3:17: "He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing." I thought about just what it meant for all of God to love all of me. God. Me. The great big, immortal, massive, King of Kings, Creator of the Universe, Lover of my soul, unshakeable, impenetrable, unchangeable - that God loves me. All of the facets of his character love me. Everything he is . . . loves me.
Loves all of me. The good stuff. The bad stuff. The strengths. The weaknesses. The rights. The wrongs. The past. The future. The ugly. The beautiful.
Just soak in that for a minute, and then say with me . . . wow.
I wasn't afraid anymore. No matter the diagnosis, no matter the outcome, God loves me. God. Loves. Me. And he loves you! That is truth, and truth is what sets us free. What is there to ever be afraid of, when the one who spoke the world into being wants to rejoice over me? Sing over me? Take delight in me?
What does that say about him, and what does it say about me?
My test results came back fine. No problems. But problems will come, in all of our lives, and the truth will still be the same. All of God loves all of me. That knowledge should change me, make me bold, strong, courageous. No earthly circumstances can change the eternal truth:
God loves me.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
The Problem With Church, Part 2
In my last post I discussed imperfections of the modern church. There are many. There always have been, because the church is simply made up of people - fallen, broken, sinful people.
Today I'd like to talk about the other side of church. I've had many people say to me, "I won't/My husband/mother/son won't come to church because people there are liars/hypocrites/judgmental."
My response is, yes... And which one of those are you?
I'm intrigued by a world that both demands and represses the influence of the church on society. I hear things like, if the church would just do more/do less in the world, there would be no hunger or war or abuse. If the church would just do good, bad things wouldn't happen.
I get that. And I don't disagree with it. But here's the thing. To my knowledge, I don't know any ax murderers or pedophiles or sadists. Most of the people who would have these discussions with me obey the law, pay their taxes, love their kids. They are good people.
So my question to them is, why aren't you doing good things? If the church isn't ending hunger, war and abuse, what's stopping you?
Just because the church - remember, a group of fallen, faulty people - isn't doing what you think it should, doesn't give you an excuse to not do good yourself!
Yesterday, I told the church to grow up. Today, I say the same thing to the world. If you are of reasonable age and intellect, you have surely figured out that life doesn't exist for you. Life will continue, even if you are angry. Or bitter. Or hypocritical. Because you are, you know. All the things you accuse the church of - I'll bet you are those things too.
Because we all are. The Bible even says that - we are all sinners. And yet, it also says that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Whether you accept him or not. Whether you believe it or not. Your belief doesn't change the facts.
I don't disagree that the church should be held to a higher standard. But not by you! Only God can judge the church. And he will one day, believe me.
There's a quote that I love by George Bernard Shaw. (The entire thing is on the left side of this blog page.) "This is the true joy in life — being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one… being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy." Shaw isn't discussing Christianity or faith or church attendance. In fact, until he was about 30 years old he considered himself an atheist. Then he became a mystic. (No clue. Don't even ask me, because I have no idea.)
Shaw isn't writing about being a better Christian. He's talking about being a better person.
So for those of you who have sworn off church - are you a force of nature or a clod of ailments? Have you allowed your distaste for the church to turn you into a religious vigilante, someone who chooses not to believe but won't let others have the same choice?
The church isn't perfect. People aren't perfect. You aren't, I'm not. (This is where you are supposed to gasp in disbelief.) And get this - we aren't supposed to be perfect.
That stupid saying about Christians not being perfect, just forgiven? It's stinking true! I gave up a long time ago. I don't even try to be perfect. Not for a second. I just wallow in forgiveness.
Give church another chance. Try faith again. You've learned so many lessons on what not to do... Think of how your life, your past, your shortcomings could influence the church for good!
The church isn't a building. It is a collection of people - people who, on any given day, are hurting or grieving or angry or bitter. People who are massively, wonderfully imperfect.
Just like you.
Give church another chance. And if you need help along the way, give me a call. We can be wonderfully imperfect together.
Now that's church.
The Problem With Church
I've gone round and round in my mind and with God about the purpose of and problem with church. While I know the bible teaches the importance of joining together on a regular basis (see Hebrews 10:25), being a part of a faith community is hard.
And why? When I look at the description of the early church in Acts 2, I feel... What do I feel? Sad? Jealous? Frustrated?
Yes! And yes and yes!
Look at the description of these believers:
All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. - Acts 2:44-47
Why isn't the church the same way today? Frankly, because the church is simply people, and people are faulty. (I made a conscious effort to not say stupid. But that's true too.)
Today we are so far removed from the Cross that we are not hungry for Christ. We are not desperate to hear about him, to talk about him, to think about him. We take the whole thing for granted.
Look at the scripture again. It's important that the first sentence says they "were together." You could easily miss this statement, skipping right over the significance, but I beg you not to.
How often do we blow right through church? In comparison, how often do we stay, sitting around, talking, laughing, sharing? Or do we treat it as one of a thousand items on our checklist of things to do on any given Sunday?
The next statement says that the believers had "everything in common." Oh. My. Word. I'm so weird I have very little in common with anyone! I have often prayed to meet people who are like me, so that I wouldn't feel so abnormal. I can't imagine having everything in common with someone.
Is this a modern problem? Are we living in a disjointed age, where finding something in common with others is rare at best, impossible at worst? And to find people I have everything in common with? Ummm... No. I don't think that person exists.
But maybe having everything in common isn't about my interests. Maybe it's about His interests. Maybe having everything in common has nothing to do with me!
Ouch. I thought everything had to do with me.
Ouch again.
Let's look deeper. The early church met together daily. In the church. In their homes. They lived life together, every day. They ate together, sang together.
They praised God together.
Every. Stinking. Day.
So what? What does this mean for us, two millennium later, 7,000 miles away, billions of people removed from that moment? Is it possible to have church that way today?
If you're in Africa, yes. If you live in China, yes. If you live in any country or area where church is hard instead of easy, then yes. It is possible.
We make church too easy. We sacrifice nothing to be there. We complain about spending too much time there. We find excuses to be away, instead of searching for reasons to be there. It's something we have to do, not something we get to do.
If only we hungered and thirsted after righteousness. If only we were desperate for a moment with Christ. If only we were willing to risk our social standing, our reputation, our very lives just to touch the hem of his garment.
What is wrong with church today?
We are.
We are the bride of Christ. Brides breathlessly anticipate their wedding day, preparing even the smallest detail, trying to make everything perfect.
Brides don't gather a group of people in the foyer, gossiping. They don't stand in a corner, hoping that that person doesn't see them so that they won't have to talk.
Brides don't waste their time on things that don't matter. Every single detail of their lives - for months - is building up to the day when they see their groom, face to face, in a way they have never seen him before.
Know this. I am talking to myself and about myself. But know this, also. I'm talking about you, too. It's time to grow up!
No wonder people aren't beating down the doors of the church. If what you have doesn't change you, doesn't change your heart, your actions, your mindset - why would anyone else want it?
I'm putting these thoughts out here as plainly as I can. Jesus is coming soon. We don't have much time left. I don't want any of us to miss it. Nor do I want us to miss the opportunity to take someone with us.
What is the problem with church? You are. I am.
Let's change that.
"If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14 NIV
Let's humble ourselves. Pray. Seek his face. Hunger for him. Thirst for him. Be desperate for him.
I want to go to church. I want to be the church! And I want it today!
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
What Does Judas Have to Teach Us?
Yesterday, at the end of my Isaiah bible study, I read out of John chapter 12, the story of Mary pouring perfume over Jesus' feet. We had been studying Isaiah 30-31, which contains Messiah prophecies, and with this being Holy Week, I didn't want to miss an opportunity to talk about what the days of this week mean to us.
Now we know that Judas didn't care about the poor. John minces no words - he was a thief. The perfumed oil was worth a year's wages. I imagine Judas dreaming about what he could have done with that money, if only it was used "properly."
And so I got to thinking . . . am I like Mary? Or am I like Judas?
What if this story happened today? What if one person wanted to pour their whole lives out to Christ? Would there be another one standing by who would criticize? Come on. Let's be honest. Of course there would be someone criticizing. The question is, which one are you?
It's easy for the modern Christian to dismiss Judas as evil or even possessed. We cannot imagine identifying with someone like him. But . . .
Let's think this through . . .
Are you robbing from God? And I'm not even talking about the easiest option, money. Let's put that aside. Are you holding something back from him? Your time? Your abilities? Your attitudes? Are you holding onto something instead of allowing him to take it, wash it, transform it?
I have a sneaking suspicion that the spirit of Judas is alive and well in many a church today. In many a Christian. Whether you will admit it or not, many of us are like him - complaining about decisions, holding ourselves back, twisting our very hearts from the truth.
I want to be like Mary.
I want to pour myself out for Him, allowing the very truth of His presence to permeate my life. I want my home, my life, to be filled with the fragrant perfume of His love, living in me.
I know I fall short of that, so often. I'm so easily irritated, so very willing to complain when things around me are not handled the way I think they should be. I'd better face facts - I complain when things are not handled my way.
My way . . .
Is that where the seeds of rebellion began to take root in Judas' heart and life? Did he have a "my way or the highway" attitude?
Do you?
This Easter week, spend some time in prayerful reflection. If you will look internally with Spirit-filled eyes, I believe that you, like me, will find some ugliness inside. An attitude, a belief, or even an outright sin. You have tried to hide it, to pretend it isn't there. But it is there, and anything that you withhold from God influences you. Even when you try to pretend it isn't there.
I want to be like Mary. I want to pour out my life as a fragrant offering for my Savior. Today, I want to allow Christ to cleanse me of any part of me that may be like Judas. Anything that will allow seeds of rebellion to take root in my heart.
Will you join me in this prayer? Lord, cleanse me today. Make me new. Create in me a clean heart, and renew a steadfast spirit in me. Pour your Holy Spirit over my life. Especially this week, as I reflect on all this Easter may have in store for me, take me and use me. Amen.
Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.Although I have known this particular story forever, something really stood out to me yesterday. After Mary poured out the oil, wiping Jesus' feet with her hair, Judas Iscariot complained. "That money could have been better spent!"
Now we know that Judas didn't care about the poor. John minces no words - he was a thief. The perfumed oil was worth a year's wages. I imagine Judas dreaming about what he could have done with that money, if only it was used "properly."
And so I got to thinking . . . am I like Mary? Or am I like Judas?
What if this story happened today? What if one person wanted to pour their whole lives out to Christ? Would there be another one standing by who would criticize? Come on. Let's be honest. Of course there would be someone criticizing. The question is, which one are you?
It's easy for the modern Christian to dismiss Judas as evil or even possessed. We cannot imagine identifying with someone like him. But . . .
Let's think this through . . .
Are you robbing from God? And I'm not even talking about the easiest option, money. Let's put that aside. Are you holding something back from him? Your time? Your abilities? Your attitudes? Are you holding onto something instead of allowing him to take it, wash it, transform it?
I have a sneaking suspicion that the spirit of Judas is alive and well in many a church today. In many a Christian. Whether you will admit it or not, many of us are like him - complaining about decisions, holding ourselves back, twisting our very hearts from the truth.
I want to be like Mary.
I want to pour myself out for Him, allowing the very truth of His presence to permeate my life. I want my home, my life, to be filled with the fragrant perfume of His love, living in me.
I know I fall short of that, so often. I'm so easily irritated, so very willing to complain when things around me are not handled the way I think they should be. I'd better face facts - I complain when things are not handled my way.
My way . . .
Is that where the seeds of rebellion began to take root in Judas' heart and life? Did he have a "my way or the highway" attitude?
Do you?
This Easter week, spend some time in prayerful reflection. If you will look internally with Spirit-filled eyes, I believe that you, like me, will find some ugliness inside. An attitude, a belief, or even an outright sin. You have tried to hide it, to pretend it isn't there. But it is there, and anything that you withhold from God influences you. Even when you try to pretend it isn't there.
I want to be like Mary. I want to pour out my life as a fragrant offering for my Savior. Today, I want to allow Christ to cleanse me of any part of me that may be like Judas. Anything that will allow seeds of rebellion to take root in my heart.
Will you join me in this prayer? Lord, cleanse me today. Make me new. Create in me a clean heart, and renew a steadfast spirit in me. Pour your Holy Spirit over my life. Especially this week, as I reflect on all this Easter may have in store for me, take me and use me. Amen.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
But God...
I recently went to a women's retreat in Wisconsin. It was an amazing, Spirit-filled, intimate time of worship. There is a phrase from the retreat that keeps coming back to me, again and again.
But God.
Sometimes we think that the pages of our lives have already been written. We believe that because of our heritage, or our upbringing, or our surroundings, our destiny has been sealed.
However, to believe that means that God has no power to interfere - and the power to interfere is a mighty one.
If we had no hope but to be exactly what we are today...
The addict would have no hope of recovery.
The grieving would have no hope of restoration.
The lost would have no hope of redemption.
That list could go on and on.
Belief is also a mighty power. And we have the ability to choose to believe that God wants to interfere in our lives.
But God...
I was sick with addiction - but God.
I was wallowing in grief - but God.
I was lost with no hope - but God.
Do you have a belief about yourself or about your life that keeps you from moving forward, from moving closer to God? Are you inwardly, perhaps even secretly, longing for God to interfere with your life?
Are you feeling unwanted? But God...
Are you feeling unloved? But God...
Are you feeling unprotected? But God...
It doesn't matter if you are from the wrong side of the tracks. Or if you have committed the most grievous of sins. Or if you feel as though you've lost your way and can't get back. Or if you are doubting, questioning, faltering.
But God.
Sometimes God will come slamming across your life like a hurricane, violently and unwanted. And sometimes he waits quietly. He whispers. He woos.
But God.
May I give you some advice? Look for ways God is trying to interfere. Listen for his whispers. Let him do what he does.
But God... Those are beautiful words.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Lavish Update
When this year began, I wanted to choose a word that I would strive to focus on for the next twelve months. If you have been reading this blog, you know I chose the word "lavish" and I've been working on ways to lavish all kinds of things on my family, my friends, and the people around me.
Something amazingly unexpected has happened.
My goal was to make the lives of others richer, fuller. My goal was to lavish on others the way God has lavished on me. His love, his attention, his kindness, his grace . . . the list of his gifts to me goes on and on. I honestly expected that I would work hard to be a blessing to others and their lives would be changed.
Who do I think I am?
I don't think I have changed anyone's life. And suddenly it doesn't matter. Because you know what? I'm the one who is changed!
I have been radically, almost violently, blessed this year. I mean, in a way that totally interferes with my life and my space and my outlook - blessed. Knock my socks off blessed. Can't wrap my mind around it blessed. Don't understand it blessed.
Blessed.
I thought I could lavish on others. Instead, others have been lavishing on me! It gets better and better every day. They've been pointing me to Christ, showing me how he showers on me - his love, his attention, his kindness, his grace . . .
An immediate, hindering thought occurs. I've had a some hurts this year. Some knock downs. Some punches. What about those? What's amazing is this - the more I think about his gifts, the more I don't think about the hurts. His gifts are greater than anything in the world.
His love, his attention, his kindness, his grace . . .
The list goes on and on.
Thank you, God, for lavishing on me. Thank you for using people, people who showed me warmth and acceptance and . . . love, attention, kindness, grace . . . the list goes on and on. All these gifts that you give freely, you often give through others. So use me, please? Let me try - just try - to bless others half as much as you've blessed me.
Something amazingly unexpected has happened.
My goal was to make the lives of others richer, fuller. My goal was to lavish on others the way God has lavished on me. His love, his attention, his kindness, his grace . . . the list of his gifts to me goes on and on. I honestly expected that I would work hard to be a blessing to others and their lives would be changed.
Who do I think I am?
I don't think I have changed anyone's life. And suddenly it doesn't matter. Because you know what? I'm the one who is changed!
I have been radically, almost violently, blessed this year. I mean, in a way that totally interferes with my life and my space and my outlook - blessed. Knock my socks off blessed. Can't wrap my mind around it blessed. Don't understand it blessed.
Blessed.
I thought I could lavish on others. Instead, others have been lavishing on me! It gets better and better every day. They've been pointing me to Christ, showing me how he showers on me - his love, his attention, his kindness, his grace . . .
An immediate, hindering thought occurs. I've had a some hurts this year. Some knock downs. Some punches. What about those? What's amazing is this - the more I think about his gifts, the more I don't think about the hurts. His gifts are greater than anything in the world.
His love, his attention, his kindness, his grace . . .
The list goes on and on.
Thank you, God, for lavishing on me. Thank you for using people, people who showed me warmth and acceptance and . . . love, attention, kindness, grace . . . the list goes on and on. All these gifts that you give freely, you often give through others. So use me, please? Let me try - just try - to bless others half as much as you've blessed me.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
A Letter to My Daughter-In-Law
I have one son, who is 11. Clearly, then, I don't have a daughter-in-law. In fact, I'm one of those mothers who discourages the whole "boyfriend/girlfriend" thing - in elementary school. And I'll do it in middle school. And I'll probably do it in high school. My idea is, only date someone you'd marry. And if you are too young to think about marriage, you are too young to think about dating.
Sounds old-fashioned, I know.
I'm okay with that.
But I know my daughter-in-law is out there, somewhere. And in 20 years, when they are preparing to get married (I know, he'll be 31 . . . I can dream) - I hope the letter below still exists, and she'll read it, knowing I was thinking about her.
There are some things I want her to know. Some things I wanted to write down, in case in 20 years I'm senile - or gone. I want her to know that I've been preparing for her. So here goes:
Dear Daughter,
Oh, how I am praying for you. Perhaps we know each other, now - or perhaps we've not met. Either way, I'm praying for you.
I'm praying that you are being raised in a holy home by parents who shower you with affection and blessing. I'm praying that your mother models for you biblical femininity. I'm praying that your father protects you with a fierce love that only daddies can offer. I'm praying they teach you the Bible and the ways of the Lord, and they tell you every day how much they love you, and how much God loves you, too.
I pray that your home is filled with love, with laughter, with creativity, with joy. I pray you feel safe in your home, free with your parents, strong in their love. I pray that you sense you have a special calling, a destiny waiting to be fulfilled.
If you don't have those things . . . I pray that God protects your heart from hardness, your mind from decay, and your body from harm. I hope you are able to remain tender and soft, loving and kind. No matter what is happening now or has happened to you in your life - God loves you. He has always loved you, he will always love you, and even when you haven't felt him, He was there.
In addition to praying for you, I also promise you this: I am doing my part to make your husband the man you want and need. He already does his own laundry and cooks. You may not realize just how amazing that is! He is independent and likes doing things on his own. I can only pray that continues as he becomes a teenager and young man!
I am teaching him to honor and respect women. I try to model for him the kind of biblical woman described in Proverbs 31 and 1 Peter 3. I fall way short of the ideal, but I am trying.
I am preparing him to lead you. His father does a wonderful job of modeling for him the kind of servant leadership that is found in Ephesians 5. His father loves me the way Christ loves the church, and he shows me that consistently.
In these ways, we are training our son for adulthood, to lead and serve, to be strong and tender. It isn't easy - sometimes it is downright painful. But you are never far from my mind. I am not teaching him to be a good 11-year-old. I am teaching him to be a good adult - wise, productive, contributing to the world. I am teaching him to be a good husband, a good father, one who loves the Lord and loves the ones God has given him.
Here are some more promises for you: I promise to value you, even though I am sure we will do things differently. I promise to not criticize you, to your face or behind your back. I promise to recognize that you are now his priority, not me. I promise to include you in our traditions and encourage you to make your own.
I promise to be the best. stinking. grandma. ever. (Besides your mother, of course.)
I promise to work, really work on our relationship. To support you. To support your marriage. To support your work. I promise to enjoy you, and not to try to change you. I promise to teach you, but only if you want to be taught. I'll be here if you need advice, and I will try really, really hard to not offer advice if it's not asked for. (But I can't make promises on that one. I can only try.)
I always wanted a daughter. When it became clear in our life that we were not going to have more children, I started setting my sights on my daughter-in-law. I've been praying for you for years. Wanting you, looking for you, preparing for you.
I pray that together, you and your husband - my son - worship God, and God alone. I pray that you build your home on a biblical foundation, and that you never ever stray from that. Sometimes I see glimpses of the future, and I see the radical importance of staying right in Christ - now more than ever. Or should I say then more than ever.
Oh, my darling daughter . . . I think of you often. When you get married, I hope you are radically close to your parents. If you are, you may not want me to think of you as my daughter. You may think that it is an insult to your parents. I can very much understand that. But know this - in my heart, there will not be any titles that separate us. I will love you like my own. You will be my daughter. I will love you, protect you, respect you.
You will be a gift to your husband, and I hope by then we have showed him and taught him how to cherish the incredible gift that you are. I pray we have taught him to be grateful for the gifts that God gives him. Gifts none of us deserve, but are graciously given all the same.
Know that already, I want only good things for you. I want you to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection. I want you to know the blessing of contentment. I want you to know love, overwhelming, all-encompassing love. And forgiveness. And grace. And . . . well, frankly, that list goes on and on.
So I am praying for you. I will not stop praying for you. May our rich and loving God shower you with his abundant presence. May he never stop teaching you, reaching you, working on you, in you, and through you.
May you be blessed. Today and always.
Sounds old-fashioned, I know.
I'm okay with that.
But I know my daughter-in-law is out there, somewhere. And in 20 years, when they are preparing to get married (I know, he'll be 31 . . . I can dream) - I hope the letter below still exists, and she'll read it, knowing I was thinking about her.
There are some things I want her to know. Some things I wanted to write down, in case in 20 years I'm senile - or gone. I want her to know that I've been preparing for her. So here goes:
Dear Daughter,
Oh, how I am praying for you. Perhaps we know each other, now - or perhaps we've not met. Either way, I'm praying for you.
I'm praying that you are being raised in a holy home by parents who shower you with affection and blessing. I'm praying that your mother models for you biblical femininity. I'm praying that your father protects you with a fierce love that only daddies can offer. I'm praying they teach you the Bible and the ways of the Lord, and they tell you every day how much they love you, and how much God loves you, too.
I pray that your home is filled with love, with laughter, with creativity, with joy. I pray you feel safe in your home, free with your parents, strong in their love. I pray that you sense you have a special calling, a destiny waiting to be fulfilled.
If you don't have those things . . . I pray that God protects your heart from hardness, your mind from decay, and your body from harm. I hope you are able to remain tender and soft, loving and kind. No matter what is happening now or has happened to you in your life - God loves you. He has always loved you, he will always love you, and even when you haven't felt him, He was there.
In addition to praying for you, I also promise you this: I am doing my part to make your husband the man you want and need. He already does his own laundry and cooks. You may not realize just how amazing that is! He is independent and likes doing things on his own. I can only pray that continues as he becomes a teenager and young man!
I am teaching him to honor and respect women. I try to model for him the kind of biblical woman described in Proverbs 31 and 1 Peter 3. I fall way short of the ideal, but I am trying.
I am preparing him to lead you. His father does a wonderful job of modeling for him the kind of servant leadership that is found in Ephesians 5. His father loves me the way Christ loves the church, and he shows me that consistently.
In these ways, we are training our son for adulthood, to lead and serve, to be strong and tender. It isn't easy - sometimes it is downright painful. But you are never far from my mind. I am not teaching him to be a good 11-year-old. I am teaching him to be a good adult - wise, productive, contributing to the world. I am teaching him to be a good husband, a good father, one who loves the Lord and loves the ones God has given him.
Here are some more promises for you: I promise to value you, even though I am sure we will do things differently. I promise to not criticize you, to your face or behind your back. I promise to recognize that you are now his priority, not me. I promise to include you in our traditions and encourage you to make your own.
I promise to be the best. stinking. grandma. ever. (Besides your mother, of course.)
I promise to work, really work on our relationship. To support you. To support your marriage. To support your work. I promise to enjoy you, and not to try to change you. I promise to teach you, but only if you want to be taught. I'll be here if you need advice, and I will try really, really hard to not offer advice if it's not asked for. (But I can't make promises on that one. I can only try.)
I always wanted a daughter. When it became clear in our life that we were not going to have more children, I started setting my sights on my daughter-in-law. I've been praying for you for years. Wanting you, looking for you, preparing for you.
I pray that together, you and your husband - my son - worship God, and God alone. I pray that you build your home on a biblical foundation, and that you never ever stray from that. Sometimes I see glimpses of the future, and I see the radical importance of staying right in Christ - now more than ever. Or should I say then more than ever.
Oh, my darling daughter . . . I think of you often. When you get married, I hope you are radically close to your parents. If you are, you may not want me to think of you as my daughter. You may think that it is an insult to your parents. I can very much understand that. But know this - in my heart, there will not be any titles that separate us. I will love you like my own. You will be my daughter. I will love you, protect you, respect you.
You will be a gift to your husband, and I hope by then we have showed him and taught him how to cherish the incredible gift that you are. I pray we have taught him to be grateful for the gifts that God gives him. Gifts none of us deserve, but are graciously given all the same.
Know that already, I want only good things for you. I want you to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection. I want you to know the blessing of contentment. I want you to know love, overwhelming, all-encompassing love. And forgiveness. And grace. And . . . well, frankly, that list goes on and on.
So I am praying for you. I will not stop praying for you. May our rich and loving God shower you with his abundant presence. May he never stop teaching you, reaching you, working on you, in you, and through you.
May you be blessed. Today and always.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Stand in the Gap
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” Isaiah 6:8
Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you Matthew 28:18-20
The Christian life is a soldier's life. We are fighting a war for holiness, for righteousness, with epic battles for eternal outcomes. Each soldier has a role. Each soldier has a purpose. Each soldier has a mission.
Jesus told us in Matthew 28 what the purpose of the mission is: to make disciples. This is what we are fighting for. And then, he equips us with every piece of armor we need to overcome the dark and evil forces of our enemy. Ultimately, the war has already been won - by Jesus, the Messiah, the Redeemer, the Conqueror of sin and death. Yet he stills calls us to join him in the battle for souls - the lives of our friends, our loved ones.
While we were created individually, with special and unique gifts and talents, the overriding purpose of those talents is to tell people about God. However you do it - as a doctor, a stay at home mom, a sales clerk - that's what you are called to do.
It's actually a pretty simple battle plan.
This is a spiritual battle, but this is a physical world. Paul tells us in Ephesians 6 that we don't battle flesh and blood, but spiritual forces. These forces are the enemy of the Christ follower, who wants nothing less than our souls to be damned, for eternity. But Paul wasn't saying that there is not physical work to be done. In fact, the spiritual campaign for souls involves massive physical work.
It requires going.
The Lord asked Isaiah, who will go? That is not a rhetorical question. It's real life, with real implications. It's about blood, sweat, tears. It's going physically, going emotionally, going mentally, going spiritually. It's work.
Jesus told us to go and make disciples. That is not a rhetorical command. It's real life, with real implications. It's about blood, sweat, tears. It's going physically, going emotionally, going mentally, going spiritually. It's work.
Sometimes, in this battle, a soldier falls or is brought home. What will happen to the people that soldier was fighting for? Who will pray now? Who will disciple now? Who will go now?
That's the question, the point of this post. Who will stand in the gap for the soldier who has left? Will it be you?
This weekend, one of our soldiers went home. It's where she'd been working, praying, fighting to be. My heart is ... heavy is not the right word. Because I know where she is and I can only imagine what she's doing. My heart is ... full, because I will miss her. I will need her. I will remember her.
But who will stand in her place? Who will pray and intercede and give and love and remember? Who will do the things she did?
Here am I, Lord. Send me. Send me to my knees, praying for the lost. Send me to the bedside of the sick, bearing their burdens. Send me to my wallet to give money, helping those in need.
Just send me.
There are two battle songs that come to my mind. One is called "Hosanna." The second verse says, "I see a generation, rising up to take their place, with selfless faith." The other song is "Break Every Chain." One of the verses goes, "There's an army rising up, to break every chain."
Battle songs. War cries. Victory anthems.
There are still battles left to fight and victories left to win. Whether you want to be at war or not, you are. Whether you want to be in battle or not, you are. Every day there is a victory waiting for you to claim.
Who will go? Will you take your place? Will you rise up?
Pray that God will make you brave enough to say, "Here am I. Send me."
Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you Matthew 28:18-20
The Christian life is a soldier's life. We are fighting a war for holiness, for righteousness, with epic battles for eternal outcomes. Each soldier has a role. Each soldier has a purpose. Each soldier has a mission.
Jesus told us in Matthew 28 what the purpose of the mission is: to make disciples. This is what we are fighting for. And then, he equips us with every piece of armor we need to overcome the dark and evil forces of our enemy. Ultimately, the war has already been won - by Jesus, the Messiah, the Redeemer, the Conqueror of sin and death. Yet he stills calls us to join him in the battle for souls - the lives of our friends, our loved ones.
While we were created individually, with special and unique gifts and talents, the overriding purpose of those talents is to tell people about God. However you do it - as a doctor, a stay at home mom, a sales clerk - that's what you are called to do.
It's actually a pretty simple battle plan.
This is a spiritual battle, but this is a physical world. Paul tells us in Ephesians 6 that we don't battle flesh and blood, but spiritual forces. These forces are the enemy of the Christ follower, who wants nothing less than our souls to be damned, for eternity. But Paul wasn't saying that there is not physical work to be done. In fact, the spiritual campaign for souls involves massive physical work.
It requires going.
The Lord asked Isaiah, who will go? That is not a rhetorical question. It's real life, with real implications. It's about blood, sweat, tears. It's going physically, going emotionally, going mentally, going spiritually. It's work.
Jesus told us to go and make disciples. That is not a rhetorical command. It's real life, with real implications. It's about blood, sweat, tears. It's going physically, going emotionally, going mentally, going spiritually. It's work.
Sometimes, in this battle, a soldier falls or is brought home. What will happen to the people that soldier was fighting for? Who will pray now? Who will disciple now? Who will go now?
That's the question, the point of this post. Who will stand in the gap for the soldier who has left? Will it be you?
This weekend, one of our soldiers went home. It's where she'd been working, praying, fighting to be. My heart is ... heavy is not the right word. Because I know where she is and I can only imagine what she's doing. My heart is ... full, because I will miss her. I will need her. I will remember her.
But who will stand in her place? Who will pray and intercede and give and love and remember? Who will do the things she did?
Here am I, Lord. Send me. Send me to my knees, praying for the lost. Send me to the bedside of the sick, bearing their burdens. Send me to my wallet to give money, helping those in need.
Just send me.
There are two battle songs that come to my mind. One is called "Hosanna." The second verse says, "I see a generation, rising up to take their place, with selfless faith." The other song is "Break Every Chain." One of the verses goes, "There's an army rising up, to break every chain."
Battle songs. War cries. Victory anthems.
There are still battles left to fight and victories left to win. Whether you want to be at war or not, you are. Whether you want to be in battle or not, you are. Every day there is a victory waiting for you to claim.
Who will go? Will you take your place? Will you rise up?
Pray that God will make you brave enough to say, "Here am I. Send me."
Friday, February 7, 2014
What Kind of Warrior are You?
We are all warriors. We are all fighting some kind of battle. Some of us are winning, some of us are losing. Some of us have no idea what we are doing!
That warrior is dangerous - to themselves.
The way I see it, there are two kinds of warriors: the Cowardly and the Courageous. Remember, we are all fighting for something, or against something. As you read through these descriptions, think about what kind of warrior you are.
Oh, and be careful. Some of these may hurt!
The Cowardly Warrior lashes out on social media, not naming names of course, but giving themselves a powerful slap on the back that they put "that person" in their place. Doing this may make the Coward feel like a king, but the reactions of the reader runs the gamut from head scratching to anger. It is a passive aggressive, immature way of dealing with the punches of life.
The Courageous Warrior honors the principles of Matthew 18. Jesus said, "If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over." (verse 15) The Courageous One will choose biblical foundations over temporary flashes of temper.
The Cowardly Warrior cannot accept instruction or correction. When offered wisdom and truth, the Coward takes no responsibility and makes no amends. He slinks away and licks his wounds, and never grows emotionally, mentally or spiritually.
The Courageous Warrior remembers the wisdom of Proverbs: "Hold on to instruction, do not let it go; guard it well, for it is your life." (4:13) Courage knows that it is not enough to listen to wisdom; you must act on it, put it into practice.
The Cowardly Warrior has evidence of immaturity and ignorance in her life: broken relationships, lost jobs, bad credit. Folly is clearly running the show in the Coward's life. But they have chosen to blame others, instead of taking responsibility.
The Courageous Warrior has evidence of maturity and wisdom in her life: long relationships, established work, good reputation. She is known for her good decisions, just as Solomon was: "Give me wisdom and knowledge, that I may lead this people, for who is able to govern this great people of yours?” (2 Chronicles 1:10) God-given wisdom is at the forefront of her life. When she makes mistakes, she steps forward, takes responsibility, and moves on.
The Cowardly Warrior allows outward circumstances to dictate their actions: a bad day drives bad decisions. The mildest of circumstances can transform them - weather, friends, even the news. When they hear gossip, they allow it to fuel their fire, and turn around and burn others. No one is safe from their ire.
The Courageous Warrior knows that they must rise above all circumstances. They remember the words of Paul is Philippians 4:11-12: "I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." Courage trusts that God uses all circumstances for His glory, whether it is something as simple as a traffic jam, or as complex as illness.
The Cowardly Warrior is quick to point out the fault of others, and how those faults affect them! They show no grace, no mercy, no love or forgiveness to friend or stranger, should that person dare to cross them in anyway. The Coward is extremely touchy; always upset about something, always on a soapbox, always frustrated and unhappy about the world. They are constantly judging others while insisting no one judge them.
The Courageous Warrior knows that Jesus meant what he said: "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' wen all the time there is a plank in your own eye?" (Matthew 7:2-4)
Courage recognizes their own sinful bent, and with a thankful heart for their own forgiveness, offers forgiveness to others. They are not touchy, sensitive, or needy. They rely on Jesus to meet their needs, soothe their hearts, renew their strength.
The Cowardly Warrior likes to think that no one is watching them. When someone cuts him off in traffic for example, he yells, even using hand gestures, knowing that his fellow motorist is long gone and has no idea what he's doing. But you know who is watching? His children. His spouse. His God.
The Coward only wants to be noticed when he is doing something right. He expects to be overlooked when he is doing something wrong, and will take no notice of the damage he causes to the little eyes and ears that see and hear. And it's not just family - the people in the office, in the Sunday School class, in the grocery store line - they all see. They all hear. They all know. They see you scowl. They hear you complain. They are watching, and they know what you do.
The Courageous Warrior knows that the real life is a transparent life. He remembers that God is always watching, always there. Courage knows that he must be open to inspection. "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander." (1 Peter 3:15-16)
Courage doesn't need to hide his actions during the day. Courage doesn't need to hide his actions from others. Courage encourages both friend and foe to look to him - not because he thinks he is perfect. Because he is not! But Courage knows he lives under grace.
Finally, the Cowardly Warrior believes lies. She believes that she cannot control her own behavior, that she "can't help the way she is." Wallowing in this belief, she doesn't reach for a higher ideal of life. She chooses to stay complacent.
The Courageous Warrior consistently reaches for more. Not more stuff, or fame, or money. She reaches for a deeper life, a deeper love. She has the power and strength to reach because she knows how deep God is! Courage believes Paul's words in Ephesians 3: "And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ." (17-18)
I hope these words today will encourage you. Challenge you. Call to you. I assume that you are like me - I find myself in some areas of cowardice, some areas of courage. I hope that these truths will inspire us all to walk away from being cowards, and run towards courage.
That warrior is dangerous - to themselves.
The way I see it, there are two kinds of warriors: the Cowardly and the Courageous. Remember, we are all fighting for something, or against something. As you read through these descriptions, think about what kind of warrior you are.
Oh, and be careful. Some of these may hurt!
The Cowardly Warrior lashes out on social media, not naming names of course, but giving themselves a powerful slap on the back that they put "that person" in their place. Doing this may make the Coward feel like a king, but the reactions of the reader runs the gamut from head scratching to anger. It is a passive aggressive, immature way of dealing with the punches of life.
The Courageous Warrior honors the principles of Matthew 18. Jesus said, "If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over." (verse 15) The Courageous One will choose biblical foundations over temporary flashes of temper.
The Cowardly Warrior cannot accept instruction or correction. When offered wisdom and truth, the Coward takes no responsibility and makes no amends. He slinks away and licks his wounds, and never grows emotionally, mentally or spiritually.
The Courageous Warrior remembers the wisdom of Proverbs: "Hold on to instruction, do not let it go; guard it well, for it is your life." (4:13) Courage knows that it is not enough to listen to wisdom; you must act on it, put it into practice.
The Cowardly Warrior has evidence of immaturity and ignorance in her life: broken relationships, lost jobs, bad credit. Folly is clearly running the show in the Coward's life. But they have chosen to blame others, instead of taking responsibility.
The Courageous Warrior has evidence of maturity and wisdom in her life: long relationships, established work, good reputation. She is known for her good decisions, just as Solomon was: "Give me wisdom and knowledge, that I may lead this people, for who is able to govern this great people of yours?” (2 Chronicles 1:10) God-given wisdom is at the forefront of her life. When she makes mistakes, she steps forward, takes responsibility, and moves on.
The Cowardly Warrior allows outward circumstances to dictate their actions: a bad day drives bad decisions. The mildest of circumstances can transform them - weather, friends, even the news. When they hear gossip, they allow it to fuel their fire, and turn around and burn others. No one is safe from their ire.
The Courageous Warrior knows that they must rise above all circumstances. They remember the words of Paul is Philippians 4:11-12: "I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." Courage trusts that God uses all circumstances for His glory, whether it is something as simple as a traffic jam, or as complex as illness.
The Cowardly Warrior is quick to point out the fault of others, and how those faults affect them! They show no grace, no mercy, no love or forgiveness to friend or stranger, should that person dare to cross them in anyway. The Coward is extremely touchy; always upset about something, always on a soapbox, always frustrated and unhappy about the world. They are constantly judging others while insisting no one judge them.
The Courageous Warrior knows that Jesus meant what he said: "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' wen all the time there is a plank in your own eye?" (Matthew 7:2-4)
Courage recognizes their own sinful bent, and with a thankful heart for their own forgiveness, offers forgiveness to others. They are not touchy, sensitive, or needy. They rely on Jesus to meet their needs, soothe their hearts, renew their strength.
The Cowardly Warrior likes to think that no one is watching them. When someone cuts him off in traffic for example, he yells, even using hand gestures, knowing that his fellow motorist is long gone and has no idea what he's doing. But you know who is watching? His children. His spouse. His God.
The Coward only wants to be noticed when he is doing something right. He expects to be overlooked when he is doing something wrong, and will take no notice of the damage he causes to the little eyes and ears that see and hear. And it's not just family - the people in the office, in the Sunday School class, in the grocery store line - they all see. They all hear. They all know. They see you scowl. They hear you complain. They are watching, and they know what you do.
The Courageous Warrior knows that the real life is a transparent life. He remembers that God is always watching, always there. Courage knows that he must be open to inspection. "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander." (1 Peter 3:15-16)
Courage doesn't need to hide his actions during the day. Courage doesn't need to hide his actions from others. Courage encourages both friend and foe to look to him - not because he thinks he is perfect. Because he is not! But Courage knows he lives under grace.
Finally, the Cowardly Warrior believes lies. She believes that she cannot control her own behavior, that she "can't help the way she is." Wallowing in this belief, she doesn't reach for a higher ideal of life. She chooses to stay complacent.
The Courageous Warrior consistently reaches for more. Not more stuff, or fame, or money. She reaches for a deeper life, a deeper love. She has the power and strength to reach because she knows how deep God is! Courage believes Paul's words in Ephesians 3: "And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ." (17-18)
I hope these words today will encourage you. Challenge you. Call to you. I assume that you are like me - I find myself in some areas of cowardice, some areas of courage. I hope that these truths will inspire us all to walk away from being cowards, and run towards courage.
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