The Mothering Chronicles 6: The Choosing Time

I remember still, the first time he consciously, willingly disobeyed.  That over seven hundred times the sun had laddered her way to the sky, and the same number of moons had taken the midnight shift for her before he made a choice to take the consequence instead of our advice is really far longer than many parents experience. 

"Nathan, if you throw that toy you will have a consequence.  You need to listen and choose.  Do you understand?"  It was Daddy that said those words, and Daddy has always been very clear.
And he did understand.  He nodded, turned, and threw the toy. 

He knew. 
He chose. 
He broke my heart.
They get to do that, you know?  Get to choose.
They do.

And it can knock the feet from beneath a surefooted person, knock the wind from a fighter, and knock a weaker person out.  Period.

Here's the thing with mothering.  We don't get to choose for them forever, and the sooner we realize this, the easier it will be when they begin to make real decision for themselves.  I've seen some moms, and I'm not gonna lie--I envy them,that wield influence over their children like carrots to rabbits and sweet feed to quarter horses.  Their children just live, eat, breathe what their momma lives, eats, breathes.  I marvel at them, wonder how they managed it.  And secretly, I wonder if it will last. 

Because though I'm convinced my own mother could hang the moon with her love of God and faithfulness in life, I just don't think like her.  She raised me, nursed me, bathed me, brought me tea and toast when I was sick, prayed--still prays--for me, bought me school clothes, took me to visit colleges, and I have to say, she has a purple and silver Christmas tree.  Purple and silver.  Never. Will. I. Have. A. Purple. Tree.  Never.

 We are both fearfully, wonderfully crafted individuals.  Individuals. 

God did the hand-making of mankind.

No two alike.

Unique.

One of a kinds.

Like infinite etsy.com, humanity consists of the flesh and bone original creations of God.  And if that is the case, then I think it is safe to say, at some point, even those mommas who raise little mini-mommas will someday be forced to accept that their little cookie cuts are gonna iron out all those folds that fit them to the pattern of mom or dad and, like wind catching a kite, the breath of their Creator will blow them full of His plan, His design.

And if they get to choose, they also get to break our hearts.  They do.

Because they will not always choose what we believe to be the best.  They won't always heed our counsel, our warnings, our guidance.  Sometimes they'll be right, sometimes they won't. 
He's almost twelve now--that little guy that threw the toy ten years ago.  I can count on one hand the number of times he has willfully disobeyed since that day.  He's a line tower.  He's a rule follower.  He's a tell-me-what-you-want-and-I-will-do-everything-in-my-power--to-obey kind of guy. So far.  But there are no guarantees. No flawless formulas for forever promises.

Just tonight he told me,  "Mom, sometimes I get a little annoyed."
"Why's that?" 
"Because there are so many Christians, and they know they should help people, know that there are people who don't have enough, but they don't.  Why do we always have to be the ones to do it?  It's hard giving things up so other people can have." 

I knew he wasn't really annoyed--the only thing he gets annoyed with is my sister's cocker spaniel that refuses to follow the rules of dogdom.  What he was really talking about was the tug-of-war between selfless and selfish choices. I knew he had Christmas in mind--our family choosing not to go over the top tipping the scales in retail's favor when there are orphans, and parched people without water.  I've struggled too.  His heart is gripped, like Paul's with the good that he should, and the fact that that good is not exactly what his heart always wants.  And I hear him.  I understand.

The choice.  The choosing of direction in life.  It's his now.  Because now, despite what his outward actions may indicate, it is his heart that is deciding what direction it will take.  He may fall in line on the outside, but what about his spirit?  Where is it walking?

Robert Frost whispered over my shoulder.
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. "

And claiming credit for the thought because really, there is nothing new under the sun, Mathew chimed in with, "Enter through the narrow gate.  For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it." (Mathew 7:13)

There is the reality that our children may choose wrong over right, and I don't want to think about that because it feels like a thousand mice chewing at my heart.  Mothering is a guiding of the heart, but there comes a point when the heart will choose its path. 

When reading the Christmas story from Mark's gospel, John the Baptist's words got stuck in my mouth.  I'm still chewing them.  "Prepare ye the way for the Lord." (Mark 1:3)

Could that be the great mandate of mothers, to prepare the way?

Could it really be just that? Mothering?
Preparing the way for the Jesus choice? 

We have family coming for Christmas.  Our home will, the day before their arrival, be a hive of activity.  The final mopping of floors, the sloshing of suds in toilet bowls, the fresh bedding, the special groceries.  It seems so simple to prepare the way for guests.  They don't stay forever, though.  They visit and leave.

With mothering, we're preparing the heart-home for a permanent resident. 

Jeff and I designed our home--before the first thrusting and heaving of 6X6 wall ever occurred, we knew every single centimeter, every corner, every closet.  But we didn't design our children's hearts.  Their hearts are like buying a home sight unseen.  I remember once when my dad sold real estate, a lady who, I think came from California, bought a house without having ever been through it.  She showed up, with her kids, her husband, her grand piano, and her home made toffee that stuck to dad's dentures and nearly choked him to death, without the slightest idea what it was really like here.  It's that way when our own burst free from womb-water into hands that hunger to hold forever.  We don't know their hearts.  We weren't the designers.

To prepare them, we must know them.

To know them, we must be with them, spend time, get low on the floor, get scuffed, get muddied, get dirty, get bored--Candy Land is only exciting the first five hundred times you play.  Then later, to continue to know them, we must watch football when we'd rather be quilting, have a tea-party when we'd rather be watching football, and stay up until four in the morning because they get talkative at midnight.

It's in the mundane, the hard, that we discover the closets and corners of their hearts.

But it is dangerous territory--the heart knowing.  Because it leads to heart-loving, and there is a fine line between heart-love and heart-control, and our Father knows the line, shows the line. He loves perfectly and with perfect love comes the freedom of choice.  He gives us that freedom.

And, when they are ready, we must give it to our children.  The freedom to choose.

Sometimes it will be like standing before a magnificent orchestra--they are the players, and we are the audience--every note on key.  But other times, they are the waterfall, and we are crushed beneath the rush of their choosing.  We'll lose our breath, and it will hurt.  Hurt to let them choose wrong.  Hurt to see them live the consequences.  Hurt to stand back when our muscle memory insists on running to rescue because that is what mothers do.  Rescue.

For a season.

Preparing the way begins with rescues, but eventually, it involves letting them tumble, letting them wrestle with the tough thinking, the mom-sometimes-I'm-annoyed-kind-of-thinking.  The kind of thinking that is heart-path choosing. 

Mothering is preparing the way for the greatest choice they will ever make.  Will they allow Jesus as their permanent resident? 

Essentially, Jesus did that with the disciples.  He prepared the way for them to accept Him as their Messiah. 
He spent time.  He told them stories in a language they understood.  He ate with them, slept near them, prayed around them.  He trusted God before their eyes.  He wrestled with God's will in His life to the point of bleeding, broken capillaries, and ultimately said, "If it is possible, let this cup pass, nevertheless, not my will but thine." (Matthew 26:42) 

In preparing the way, He surrendered His will.
The prepared heart has born witness to a parent's surrendered heart.  And that sentence is like The Great Wall of China before me--there's no getting around it.  To prepare my boys' hearts, I must be surrendered myself. 

Surrendered to His plans for them.  His purposes for them.  His ways for them.  His care of them.  His love for them.

Because whether or not I can see or understand them, His are all better than mine.  Are they not?
As for God, His way is perfect; The word of the LORD is tried; He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him. (Psalm 18:30)

Choices.  They will have them.  But so do I.  And the thing I'm discovering in mothering is this:  If my goal is to prepare the way for God's perfect way, I must first live out the belief that His way is, indeed, perfect.  They will know He is trustworthy by the proof of my life.

After he--that little boy who barely needs to wear deodorant and yet wrestles with choosing a yielded life or a self-centered life--went to sleep, I lingered long by his side.  I cried for the past, and I cried for the future. 
"God, I want him to want you always.  Want your ways.  I want him to agree, to see that Your way is joy, life, that it will make all the difference."

I am a shield to all who take refuge in Me.

"It is so hard, Lord, to trust You with this child.  It is so hard to let him make his own decisions, form his own opinions.  Help me, Father, to let You woo Him to Yourself.  Help me to trust the mind You molded in him, help me to hold him with hands opened."

I won't have the privilege of choosing forever for these that God has forged through the love of mother and father.  None of us get that privilege.  So, in our mothering, we must prepare the way of the heart-home for a resident who will care more completely, wield greater wisdom, and love to fulfill fully all their soul-longings.

It's a gut wrenching task.

But along the way, there is a fulfilling of our great soul-longings too.  And mothering becomes receiving.
Receiving the loving of Father.

And in receiving, we're freed to free them.
To free them to receive him.
We'll be unraveled, but He is the Great Weaver of life.

Pray with me:
God, when it comes to mothering, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.  And grant me trust in Your unwavering commitment, unfailing love for my children.  Help me to prepare the way.  Help me to receive from you, Peace.  Amen.

Felling Trees

April showers bring May flowers. Surely the person who first gave wind to those words lived here in the mountains of Georgia because April seems always to be the month of deluge before May inevitably pins sun's yellow yolk to velvet blue skies. This year the rains have been accompanied by tornado warnings, crazy buckets of hail, darkened skies electrocuted by lightning and convulsive thunder. It's been years since I've seen a spring with this many storms in short succession. At the entrance to our subdivision, my neighbors' house sits beneath towering poplars and oak trees. I called to check in on them after we'd passed yet another spring storm, when they told me they were going to have some trees cut down. Explaining that during the previous nights' winds they watched those trees sway perilously close to their home, they were confident that left to another nasty storm, those trees could do significant damage to their life's investment. I understood. Easily twice the height of their three story home, I couldn't help but consider those trees as I drove by their house later that week. No matter the soundness of their home, it remained no match for the havoc those poplars could wreak. They would have to be felled. Psalm 29:9 says, "The Lord's shout bends the large trees and strips the leaves from the forests. Everyone in his temple says, "Majestic!"" In our lives, have we not known some great and insurmountable tree that towers dangerously close to the people and things we hold dear? I've watched drug and alcohol addiction sway over the heart and mind of someone I desperately love. I've seen foreclosure notices cloud the skies and crowd the lives of dear friends, and I've known pain and hurt left to grow into giants that threatened once happy marriages. Yes, I've known trees that needed a good felling. And our God is able to do that with one shout. One single shout from our Creator bends the very things that threaten to overtake our lives. Just as the storm the other night sucked the dogwood blossoms from the arms of their trees, one shout from our God strips circumstances of the power they appear to have in our lives. Psalm 29 goes on to say, "The Lord sits enthroned over the engulfing waters, the Lord sits enthroned as the eternal king." There's a dam not far from our home that serves to regulate the amount of water held in our lake and used for power production. Only a few times in my life have I known that dam to be filled to capacity and the waters to pour over like the falls of Niagara. It is in that state now--a surging army of frothy water perpetually cascades over the dam. Armed with cameras, people are driving out there just to see the sight. Flooded lives though are not so breathtaking, are they? Interestingly that is the word David uses here to describe the water. Flood. It's the same word used in Genesis to describe the great flood of mankind. This is the only other place in the Old Testament where that same word is used. Imagine a situation so great in David's life that the only thing he could liken it to was the very flood that swallowed humanity, plants, animals and life in one gulp! What I love about that passage is not the description of the circumstances but the picture David painted of God. God is sitting enthroned over the engulfing waters. Reminiscent of Jesus' own slumbering amidst New Testament storms on the Galilean Sea, our Father remains so in control that he has not even had to get up off his throne to handle the situations in our lives. He is still on the throne of all creation, still seated as sovereign King. This is our God. So able, that though the contents of our lives may appear to be overflowing and our own ability to hold them together may be entirely maxed out, He remains unfazed and utterly able. The last verse of that chapter says, "The Lord gives his people strength; the Lord grants his people security." I love grants because they are free. God requires nothing in the granting of strength to his people. The Hebrew phrasing here implies a military type of strength. The idea that when things seem beyond our ability to handle, God will bring in reinforcements is so reassuring. The reality of our lives is that He never leaves us to face giants alone. He never turns His back when the waters spill over our worlds. Instead, He freely gives His people the security of knowing that He remains enthroned. Remains able. Remains in control. Our God remains. So my neighbors will have a tree guy come do his thing. He's an expert in the taking down of trees whose limbs threaten the stability of a home. But what about you and I? Where will we turn for the felling of situations and circumstances in our own worlds? It is so tempting to take matters into our hands, to exhaust every avenue possible to find resolution. Yet there are times when the truth is we need to simply, "Be still and know that He is God." (Psalm 46:10) A picture comes to mind of little me planted like a spider inside some small lifeboat at the edge of the dam attempting to prevent myself from being carried over the edge by the rushing water. Furiously rowing, I am fighting a battle never meant to be won by my feeble arms. There are times in our lives, when we have to surrender to the flood and the trees and the storms. There are times when we need to ask God to help us see the spiritual world around us instead of the physical. What if in that same picture I could see God--the greater, invisible hand that cradles my little boat. "Faith," my friends is the very "substance of things hoped for, the evidence not seen." (Hebrews 11:1) We may not be able to see the hands of our Father at work, but we can stand in the security that He is working. May we hear the shouts of our Father. May we sense His presence. May we live amidst the storms in the greater reality that our God remains on the throne, unfazed. "And if our God is for us, than who can stand against?" (Romans 8:31)

Pondering

Verse 19. It's the one that always gets me. I don't why exactly, but the phrase, "Mary treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart" (Luke 2:19) is as captivating to me now as it was when I was a little girl. Here was a young lady, barely a woman from what historians tell us, who had seen an angel, heard tale of her barren cousin's miraculous pregnancy, carried a baby and birthed it in a stable of all places, and was visited by shepherds who also saw angels and found she and her infant son by their direction. She's lead quite an extraordinary life. And I wonder, what did she ponder? The passage says she pondered "these things" and I have to think it was the miracles, the promises made to her that came to fruition right before her eyes, even within her own body, on which she let her heart linger. Matthew 6:9-10 says, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven where moths and rust do not destroy and thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is there your heart will be also." At Christmas, I can't help but think of all the material treasures we cling to. We make our lists, we check them twice. We add more to our lists. We stretch ourselves in every way possible and rarely is it all enough. And days later, the discarded wrappings are bulging from over-taxed garbage bins waiting at the curb, largely forgotten, new toys are laying about the house in various corners, the brooms shifts aggressively over crumbs and scraps, and the season is tidied and tucked away for another year. There is nothing wrong at all with gift-giving or any holiday festivity. I am just pointing out that what is often the treasure of our children's hearts and even that of our own hearts days before Christmas is soon forgotten days after. And we are left picking up miscellaneous pieces. Then there was Mary. She was given this beautiful son. Sure He was God incarnate, but to a young mother who nourished him, clothed him, comforted his tears, sang him to sleep, taught him Jewish customs, and kissed his skinned knees, I am sure he was more son than God. And only three decades after giving birth to that sweet baby she would lose him to a death that would kill most women from grief. He didn't become king on earth in the way many hoped. He was ripped from her life violently and without mercy. Gone. There can be no pain like that of losing your own child. It is unutterable. Indescribable. How did that woman survive? I think it must go back to what she treasured early on as a young girl. She had seen the faithfulness of God. She had seen that Yahweh was "not slack concerning his promises." (II Peter 3:9) She had seen that when he told her she would bring forth a son, she did just that. She had seen His protection of that young son when he brought visions to Joseph that they should leave the place they were staying for the safety of the child. She treasured and pondered the character and promises of God. When faced with the greatest, deepest lost, she had a treasure trove within her heart of things that moths and rust do not destroy, that man can never crucify. With every passing year I learn that we are less and less invincible. The marriage I thought was made in heaven crumbles, the man I thought so strong stumbles, the home of someone's childhood burns to the ground, the healthy little girl becomes racked with cancer, the friends once so close are a distant memory. Life is so full of change. There's that saying that the only things certain in life are death and taxes. There's some truth to that addage, but to it I would add that the greatest certainty in life is the faithfulness of our God to fulfill his promises. So this season, I'm making a point to examine what exactly it is I treasure and to focus my pondering on the faithfulness of God in my own life. I'm treasuring the times He's carried me through. I'm pondering the times when I saw His promises materialize in my little world. Because I don't know if I will get tomorrow. And if I do receive tomorrow, I do not truely know who or what I will find there with me. But this I do know, if I meet tomorrow, I meet it in the company of the God who promises never to leave, never to forsake. There are uncertainties in my life even now--things that I worry over, surprises, curveballs, things we weren't expecting. But God knew. Scripture says, "You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast on thee. For he trusts in you." (Isaiah 26:3) May I be found pondering the God who remains good in all circumstances; may that be where my heart is found. In that there is peace. And didn't the angel proclaim, "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace....to all men." (Luke 2:14) Pray with me: Jesus, YOU are life. You are joy. You are peace. You are hope. You are ALL that I could ever need. May I see YOU for who you are. May my heart not become crowded with treasures that could dissolve tomorrow but may my heart be filled to overflowing with YOU. I treasure YOU this season. Amen. Read with me: What God has promised. II Peter 1:4 Philippians 4:19 II Cor. 12:9 I Cor. 10:13 Jude 24 Romans 8:28 John 3:16 Psalm 46:1 Matthew 11:28 (a link with a lot more-- www.smilegodlovesyou.org/promises.html )

I Saw You

There dangles from the eaves of my house, like a ruby hourglass, a hummingbird feeder; a lighthouse suspended for those self-propelled ships of the air with beaks almost as long as their thumb-sized bodies. It was March when I hoisted myself onto the railing of my deck, some thirty-six feet in the air and coiled it's attaching wire through the metal on the eaves. There it hung--a signal that a sugar water banquet had been spread. And then I waited. See I have a thing for hummingbirds. Amazing to me are their tiny wings that flutter and flap over sixty times before I can finish saying one Mississippi. Unfathomable. And I want to be with them. I want to see them; to watch them. So the routine begins each year after the feeder has been filled and hung that I take my quiet time outside on one of my red rockers--painted red over black or white as another signal to them that food is nearby--and watch. I know they will come, and so it is only a waiting game. Eventually I hear it--a sound not unlike that of a bumblebee and yet distinctively different, more purposeful, almost like an ant-sized helicopter. And without moving my body at all, I avert my eyes from the passage I am reading to watch his first landing, his first sip of the nectar I've prepared.

To describe how I feel when he comes is probably an exercise in futility but I will try. I plan for them. I think about the reds of blossoms, the nectar giving properties of the flowers I choose, the overall appeal of the plants I place in my gardens and planters all in relation to the hummingbird. And that first motoring sound of his wings, the signal that he has come, is so entirely expected--I knew he'd come because I'd made everything ready for him--and yet so entirely gratifying--the work I'd done yielded the desired results.

Then begins a week or so of just watching, enjoying. Every morning I sit on the rocker propping my Bible against my knees, coffee mug placed precariously on the rocker's arm or more solidly on last year's abandoned toad habitat, and wait. They both come now--male and female--to drink. Every morning. Usually twice. They return too, throughout the day, but it is in the morning that I see them. And eventually I begin to move around them. When they become confident that I won't harm them, I attempt to make their photo which too is an exercise in futility since no image I've ever collected has compared to the real thing. But I try.

It's about 8 square inches, I'd say. The space occupied by feeder and bird can't be much more than that in size. I have to zoom right in with my camera to bring that small section of life into focus. Atop the hill from my neighbor's vantage, you'd never know they were there. Just eight tiny inches of a world filled with statues of liberty, Mount Everests and Grand Canyons--so insignificant really. But I see those eight square inches every single day. I observe them with joy, with care, with determination, with dedication. I am unstoppingly compelled to enjoy them because it was I who made a place for them; it was I who planned for them. And they came--to my eight square inches.

I read from John the first morning I waited for the birds to join me. Jesus had been in Bethany and decided to travel north to Galilee. Nothing Jesus ever did was coincidence. He did, after all, have the knowledge of God miraculously available to his human form. So when he found Philip and spoke, "Follow me" I believe though Philip may have been floored, Jesus was probably expecting him. And upon being told to follow, Philip did exactly what I would have done. He ran off to Nathanael and told him, "We have found the one Moses wrote about in the law, and the prophets also wrote about--Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph."

A little history for those who may not already know. The Jews were living under Roman rule. They had been without a word from God or prophet for around 400 years. 400 years of oppression, of battles, of existence without any tangible hope or proof that their God still cared. 400 hundred years of silence. Have you ever felt that heaven remained silent while you called and called under your throat was dry and your voice no longer made a sound? Amongst a melting pot of cultures, beliefs, peoples from all manner of nations--Greek Roman, German, Egyptian, African--and multiple gods to go with each nation, the Jews had been left to wonder if any of it had ever even been real. How was their God any different from the pagan gods of other nations? And yet they had the law of Moses. They had the words of the prophets promising that someday a Messiah would come. And their understanding of this promise was much more literal than is ours today. They understood it to mean that when their Messiah came it would mean redemption from Roman rule, and the oppressive rule of other kings and emperors that He would bring. He would be King, but not of their hearts, of their literal world. They saw their countrymen brutally crucified on jagged spikes, they lost their husbands and their children to Roman whims, they gave their last coins to the Roman tax and lived in towns where Roman soldiers could drop their heavy packs before them and insist they carry the load of Rome for a mile. Though their lives were not all bad; they did live in fear. And I would venture to say that many if not all had doubts and there had to have been those who were cynical at best and more than likely hopeless. Nathanael, a Galilean himself knew the basin in which Nazareth lay and transparently replied to Philip, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" In him there would not be found political correctness, nor any desire to pretend that he believed the prophecy of a Messiah could be fulfilled by a carpenter from Nazareth.

Philip simply told him "Come and see." Come and see for himself--which on a side note is perhaps the most wonderful evangelistic phrase ever spoken. We spend so much time trying to learn the best evangelistic teachings, approaches and methods when all Philip said was, "Come and see." An invitation to come and discover Christ from a trusted person may be the most compelling way to share the path of Jesus ever used. (Exit tangent.)

As soon as Jesus sees Nathanael he says, "Look a true Israelite in whom there is no deceit!" In other words, "Here's the real deal. Here's a man who is authentic and in whom I find no falsehood." And Nathanael says to him, "How do you know me?" How? How can you know who I am? I'm just a Galilean--one of thousands. Tell me how you--a carpenter from Nazareth--can presume to know my heart?

And without hesitation Jesus says, "Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you." I saw you, Nathanael before Philip ever even told you to come and see, I saw you. No one will ever know what it was Nathanael was doing or thinking under the fig tree, but Jesus looked into that man's eyes and told him where he was located before Philip came to get him. Nathanael had to have felt the same hopelessness as other Jewish men and women and he had to have wondered at some time, "Does this God even care?" And Jesus said to him, "I saw you."

Nathanael is like the hummingbird. God had a plan for him just as I had a plan for that hummingbird. The plan involved a relationship. God didn't intend just to redeem Israel but to bring all mankind as individuals to Himself. Just as I set out a feeder to bring the hummingbirds to my home and waited patiently for their arrival, Jesus had to have anticipated the moment when he could look into Nathanael's eyes and say, "I know you exist and I care." That tiny little portion of earth under the fig tree may have only been a few square inches, but Jesus saw it.

You'll remember the story of Hagar when she was cast out of Abraham and Sarah's home with her son Ishmael and God introduced himself as Jehovah El Roi--The God who Sees. Is that not a beautiful name for the God we worship? He is the God who sees you. And no matter how small, how insignificant and unimportant your few square inches of earth may be, it does not go unnoticed. It does not go unplanned for. It does not go uncared for. It does not go untended. It does not go unwatched. And mark my words, it DOES NOT GO UNLOVED.

He sees the miner's wife as she weeps into her pillow at night over her husband's death. He sees the young girl in the inner city whose mother lives on welfare and doesn't know who her father is. He sees the swollen belly of the baby in Angola and the boy in the mountains of Afghanistan taught to shoot long before he understands the value of life. He sees the barren woman and the unemployed man. He sees. He sees the overwhelmed student and the stroke victim. He sees the greedy man and the hungry man, the raging woman and the abused. There is no square inch space on this entire planet that Jehovah El Roi does not see.

As I sit each morning and watch that crimson feeder for the arrival of the hummingbird I can't help but consider my antics. It seems silly that I should care so much for such a little thing, but I do. And that in that moment I'm overwhelmed by the reality that the obsession I nurture is entirely and utterly minuscule in comparison to the obsession of God on my behalf. As I focus on that feeder, it is I who am watched. It is I who am tended. And it is I who am seen. By the God of the universe. And you too, are seen.

Nathanael responded to Jesus by saying, "...You are the son of God; you are the king of Israel!" He responded with belief. I don't know where you are in life, but He knows. He cares He sees you. Do you believe?

When Dawn is Delayed

I awoke yesterday, and the trees were a thousand fingers stretching from the hands of the hills, their fingernails painted yellow,red, and orange. Mostly they are dogwoods--red like sunburned salmon--whose leaves are dyed to declare the glory and existence of their Creator. Today though, I awoke and the sun had not yet climbed above the hills, the dogwoods and sourwoods slept silent, and the sheet of night still covered them. Not normally very cogniscent at pre-dawn hours, I was surprised to find myself considering the stark difference of my two mornings. One, like a rooster crowing or a trumpet announcing the greatness of our God, had captivated my heart with the vivid reminder that God must exist,that creation could in no way have just happened. The other was a dark and silent morning where the only light came from switches I turned on. Where on this second morning was God? Naturally my heart considered the two extremes--the mountain top experience when the hills are alive with the music of their Creator and the black hour before dawn when the absence of light somehow causes one to ask where is their maker? We're all so different,our lives so varied, that it is hard to say what will be darkness for each of us. Something as insignificant as a burnt souffle or as magnificent as the loss of our spouse can both bring a darkness of soul upon us. Yesterday my eldest son, Nathan was working on a difficult assignment for school. Off to a good start, his instructions were clear and he seemed to understand fully what his work held for him. I had gone downstairs to begin lunch preparation while he finished up. When I called for lunchtime he didn't respond. I poured the boys' milk, and still, he did not come. I called a second time. When finally he crested the stairs, I knew he had met a darkness of the soul. The assignment had been overwhelming to him. Normally a diligent, persevering student, I was surpsied to see his eyes swollen and face polka dotted with pink splotches. He had been crying. "You're going to be mad at me. I didn't get it done at all," he gurgled out between sobs. And I thought, No. No. I'll not be mad. I'll hold and comfort you, and then we'll tackle that assignment because I know you can do it. But first you must know you aren't alone. Though I was just downstairs--still present and ready to help--somehow he had assumed he was entirely on his own, and he felt helpless. That, my friends, is a darkness of the soul. We come to that point don't we? As Christians? We do. Just this week I've talked with four beautiful women whom I love, all of whom are walking through the pre-dawn hours of life. Divorce. Bankruptcy. Children wandering far from home. Overwhelming circumstances. Struggling with feelings of inadequacy for the demands of their lives, these beautiful, incredibly talented women are walking through the dark. And though they may not have faces puffed from sobbing, their hearts are swollen with grief. I wonder if they, like my son, feel as though they've been abandoned to a task far too hard when in fact their Creator is near. When Nate felt entirely alone, I was only feet away. In the same way, when we feel completely abandoned, our Savior has never left, never forsaken. We are not alone when darkness lingers. We are not. I sat with Nathan--held him in my arms and read to him from Galatians 6. Reminding him of Paul's encouragement to the people of Galatia to not grow weary in well-doing, I told him that in life there will be lots of assignments that are hard, that in those moments we can give in to our own fears and feelings of inadequacy, or we can persevere. Then I took him to Romans where Paul reminds us of something so important. While we feel unable to meet the task at hand, Jesus is praying for us. "Nate, while you were upstairs crying and feeling completely unable to do this assignment, your Savior was literally sitting beside God pleading for you. He reminded God that you are His child, that you need help. He's still praying now. He never stops." I couldn't help but think how we adults need to hear those words sometimes. Romans 8 begins with some of the most potent encouragement in all of scripture, "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." When Nate came down those stairs he was already condemning himself; he certainly didn't need my condemnation. He was convinced I would be furious with him for not finishing the task, when in fact I was filled with compassion for him and reminded that he is just a child. And aren't we just the same sometimes? We condemn ourselves when Jesus has already paid the price for our sins. There is no longer any condemnation no matter how much we feel like failures. We need to know our Father is no longer slinging the gavel declaring our guilt. His compassion for us as His children is new every single morning. Paul goes on to address what is happening in the spiritual world when we are in the dark. "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword... ...No, in all these things we have complete victory through him who loved us! For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:26-36, 37-39) Spiritually speaking sometimes we wake up only to discover the lights have gone out. In those moments we need to know that we are not alone; we are not condemned to struggle through the apparent blackness of our lives. Our Savior lives to intercede for us, to plead before the Father on our behalf. Though we may not see the tangible evidence of His presence--the splendor of the autumn leaves alight with the rise of the sun--He remains near. Ever present. The ironic thing is that Nathan had everything he needed to complete that assignment. It wasn't that I had not equipped him practically. His problem was that he doubted himself and what I had already taught him. He panicked. We're reading Pilgrim's Progress right now and at one point in the story Christian,the main character, finds himself locked in the recesses of Doubting Castle. Despair has begun to overtake him when he remembers he has been given a key called Promise. Promise will unlock any room in the Castle of Doubt. He had the key all along and failed to use it because he had forgotten about Promise. We too have the promises of God to open the doors of doubt. Among my favorite is, "His divine power has given us everything we need pertaining to life and godliness." (II Peter 1:3) There is nothing we will face for which we have not been given everything we need to pass through it. Remembering the promise keys of God's Word is so critical to walking through the valleys where the shadows have darkened the skies of our lives. Christian, weary from a rugged and dangerous mountain climb, also finds himself before a castle where he wishes to rest. He sees it in the distance and longs for some peace and a place to lay his battle-worn body. But in the path there are two great lions and he is fearful that they will overtake him. I've thought long about those lions. There's a passage in Proverbs that says the sluggard will not attempt a task because there are "lions in the street." (Pr. 26:13) Just as he is ready to run for his life a voice stops him and says, "Do not fear the lions! They are chained. They are there to turn back those who have no faith. Stay in the middle of the path, and you will not be harmed." Christian made his way past the lions and though their roars echoed through the valley, they could not harm him. Darkness is on a leash. Our Father holds that leash, and there will come a day when darkness will no longer cloud our view. Until that day we walk not by what we see, but by the promises of God's Word. After hugs, comfort, reminders of truth, prayer and a little lunch--food never hurts a situation--Nathan finished his assignment with surprising haste. It wasn't simple. He was stretched, but he finished. I wouldn't give him something he couldn't do. Your Father won't do that to you either. If perhaps you've awoken to a dark time in life, it's my prayer that you'll continue in the truth that your Savior is praying for you, that the Holy Spirit is interceding on your behalf, your Father has leashed the darkness, and you are not alone as you pass from black of despair to dawn. And if you are awakening to a time in your life when the sun has revealed the splendor of your King then I pray you will record those images into the recesses of your heart so that when darkness comes you will have them to remind you that your Father exists, your Savior prays and your Holy Spirit intercedes. Pray with Me: Jesus, thank you for sitting beside my Father reminding Him of my needs. Thank you for intervening on my behalf over and over and over. Thank you for your Promises God. Remind me, Holy Spirit of those promises when my heart wants to doubt. Teach me to walk in darkness as though it were light because Your word says that even the darkness is not dark to you, Father. In the name of my Savior and intercessor, Jesus, Amen.

Speechless

Speechless. Without audible uttering. Unable to form communicable words with one's tongue. Though for some it may be difficult to believe, I have found myself in this predicament a time or two. The birth of my sons--their slow motion arms and legs stretching skyward and their lifesaver red lips forming tiny ohs as they made their entrance into the world--left me utterly overwhelmed and without words. A yellow topaz ring I had admired for over a year presented in the hands of my husband to me when I thought he hadn't realized how much I loved it also found me unable to form verbal expression. A friend just yesterday told me how her husband had left her sleeping while he crawled from bed blurry eyed and dazed and headed to Wal-Mart for their 5 AM Black Friday sale to pick up their children's Christmas gift. When she realized she had overslept she dashed from bed clamoring to get dressed in hopes there might be a few of the prized items left when her husband casually said, "It's okay. I already got it." Speechless! A husband who braved the insanity of Wal-Mart on black Friday...alone! Wow. My question today is have you ever been left speechless by God? Poor Zechariah and Elizabeth don't get a lot of air time what with Mary and the baby Jesus' story only verses after their own tale of miraculous pregnancy and birth. Here were two righteous and obedient children of God who found themselves unable to bare a child. Scripture doesn't tell us of their emotions about the lack of children, but as a mom, I know that at some point in her life Elizabeth must have groaned and wept into her pillow with the longing for a child. And I wonder if anyone shared with her in her pain. I wonder if at some point she and Zechariah came to the understanding that God was sovereign and remained good despite the reality that He had not blessed them with a child of their own. So often the things withheld from us are not for our pain but for God's later glory and if we can hold onto that truth during the barren season we somehow position ourselves to fully grasp and enjoy the blessings of God when they are poured into our lives. I wonder if Zechariah and Elizabeth understood that. Now Gabriel appeared to Zechariah while he was in the holy place and tells him he is going to have a son. Naturally Zechariah is not a little surprised and certainly has some questions. My pastor pointed out that unlike Mary who when told she will give birth to the prophesied Messiah of her nation simply asked, "How can this be since I've not been with a man," Zechariah asks for some sort of a sign to prove its truth. Interesting comparison. Mary accepted what the angel said as true and simply wondered about the practical "how" God would accomplish this. Zechariah on the other hand wanted proof that what the angel said was in fact true--a sign. So often I still want to ask God for confirmation signs. I won't go there today theologically, but I do want to say that sometimes when I notice a pattern of asking God for confirmation signs it's an indicator that I'm struggling with weak faith. God's Word is clear that living out belief in what we do not tangibly see is a part of the follower of Christ's daily life. "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence not seen." (Hebrews11:1) "The righteous shall walk by faith." (Habakkuk 2:4) Jumping ahead a moment, while Zechariah is chatting with Gabriel Luke 2 says "Now the people were waiting for Zechariah, and they began to wonder why he was delayed in the holy place." I love that little sentence. So often when we are meeting our destiny, when we are discovering the greatness of God's plan for our life--people on the outside looking in have no idea what is going on. It's never convenient when God drops in and changes everything, but it's always right. Zechariah was busy doing what he was supposed to do. So often I get caught up in thinking perhaps I need to do something different for God to speak to me. Listen, when God wants to interrupt our daily routine to have a little chat, I can without hesitation promise you He'll have no problem getting our attention. Remember the writing on the wall? The burning bush? The baby floating in a basket down a river? The talking donkey? For busy moms and dads who are just thankful to get ten minutes of quiet time before the Lord a day, the idea of spending a sacred hour or two before the Lord each morning prostrate before Him is almost laughable at times. If you are able to do that regularly, then I commend you. But if you aren't I pray that you know that your God loves you so intensely, so radically, so emphatically that when He's ready to do something major in your life, you'll know it. Our job is to remain faithful with the stewardships God has given us--to obey. And when we do feed our spirits, then we need to make sure that we feed them with the milk and honey of God's Word and not other things. Now backing up again to verses 19 and 20, Gabriel answers Zechariah's request for a sign like this, "I am Gabriel, who stands in the presence of God..." It's as though he's saying, "Hello! You may not have noticed I'm an angel! You know that God you are making offerings to right here in the Holy Place? Well, I stand in his presence everyday! Trust me, when I tell you you are going to have a baby. You're gonna have a baby!" Here's the thing--when we do get the burning bush experience we need to respond in faith. Everything that angel told Zechariah lined up with the prophecy of God's Word and Zechariah being of priestly lineage definitely would have known God's Word. We should always test things against the truth of God's Word and when it lines up, we need to line up too and obey in faith. Then Gabriel says to Zechariah, "because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will be silent, unable to speak, until the day these things take place." And there you have it. God sends an angel to tell Zechariah his life is fixing to be changed forever and Zechariah is so shocked he wants proof that God's really going to do this great thing. I can almost hear God saying, "Zechariah, buddy, I'm God. I can do ALL THINGS. When I move in your life, when I act, it'll leave you speechless." Most theologians agree that he was probably also left deaf because of the fact that later on when asking for the name of the baby, the people made signs to Jon to ask the question. I can't help but wonder if God's whole point in leaving Zechariah deaf and mute was simply this: if we don't listen to the message of God delivered by his servants our hearing is of no use to us. And when our lips utter words of unbelief, they too are of no value. But more than anything, I think Zechariah was left speechless by the power of God at work in his life. Zechariah was a good man. He obeyed God. He served God. And he struggled with believing the unbelievable. I can relate to that. What prayer or petition of your heart is something so impossible that it is difficult to believe God will work in that situation? The answer to that question my friend is likely the very situation where God desires greatly to leave you speechless. Speechless not because you couldn't believe He'd work, but speechless at His power and His might and His faithfulness when He does move. I have a list of barrens--the situations and circumstances in the lives of my friends and family that seem impossible. Trust me, I've got some doosies on that list. I bet you do too. And I am specifically taking those before God and saying, "Lord, leave me speechless. Show your power. Show your might. I don't see how, but I believe, Lord. I believe." Will you pray that with me? "God of wonder, Lord of the barren wastelands in our lives, you see all of these situations. You already know they exist and have a plan that incorporates them in our lives for your glory. God we believe you can work. We believe you are able. Lord, we're not kidding when we say that we believe some of these circumstances are literally impossible, but God with you all things are possible. We stand on that truth today. We line up behind it and we beg of you, leave us speechless. In Jesus' name we ask. Amen."

Sometimes we just can't help but wonder...Who IS in charge?

Many years ago during a summer when my sister and I swapped the babysitting responsibilities of our younger siblings each day, my two year old sister was found on the opposite side of our subdivision. Not only was she completely alone, she was also completely naked. She had wandered from the house and begun her toddler-streaking stroll about the neighborhood unnoticed. Our house though lacking any adult supervision was always brimming with neighborhood kids and our other siblings. We were probably too young for the responsibility—okay, obviously too young. Nonetheless it was one given us because of extreme circumstances and we did our best. But on this day we did not know until we looked up from our playing in the back bedroom to see the crooked frame of Mrs. Sylvester and her white plume of hair. Like a dandelion gone to seed she stood gripping my baby sister’s sticky fingers with a grasp surprisingly strong for someone so overtaken by arthritis. “Who is in charge here?” She demanded. Who is in charge here? A fair question considering she did find a two year old very unattended and very naked wandering the rural streets of northern Georgia. There’s no telling what moonshine drinking, overall wearing, toothless old man might have come along and snagged her for permanent servitude in the corn distilling industry of the hills. But really, who was in charge? Where were our momma and daddy on that day? Where was a responsible babysitter on that day? Those are questions that merit their asking. And I can answer. My mother was working. Hard. And I’ll not criticize the decisions she made for had I been in her shoes I don’t know how I ever would have survived. Life is not always full of white picket fences and fairy tale endings and my mother’s story at that time was not any of those things. She was up long before us and to bed long after us. She worked. She went to school. She cooked. She cleaned. She chauffeured. She washed laundry. She cared for five girls. Like I said, my mom was working. Of course to say my poor sister and I had a wake up call that day would be an obvious understatement. From then on we knew we needed to be more vigilant—especially with our youngest siblings who were still such babies. When I remember that day though, what still strikes me is that very first question—Who’s in charge here? Sometimes when we look at our lives they are disturbingly, shockingly not the way they should be. No little girl should be found roaming the streets because nobody noticed her tiny naked bottom as it shuffled out the door and down the driveway. Should marriages break up because nobody noticed a naked heart roaming out the door from years of neglect? Should bodies bulge because nobody noticed the ridiculous amount of unhealthy food being consumed to comfort emotional distress? Should relationships become strained like tires whose tread has worn to the metal because nobody noticed the feelings that were trampled on carelessly and then left to rot like wet autumn leaves on a mountain trail? When I look across the faces of the people in my world and see hunger, disease, bankruptcy, foreclosure, divorce, bitterness, fear, pain, disappointment, loss, death, hurt, confusion, unforgiveness, and baggage, baggage and more baggage I want to scream out to the heavens, “Who is in charge?” These are good people who have tried their best. These are people who have obeyed, have followed God, have surrendered and still their lives are falling apart like dollar store Christmas stockings. There have been moments when I’ve held my arms up to the heavens and called out, “Tell me, God, WHO is in charge? Because from where I’m standing this isn’t right. This is not how it was supposed to be, God.” He always listens and catches my tears before He whispers, “Of course it isn’t.” We all know our world is a far cry from God’s intention when He placed Adam and Eve amidst a garden who’s valleys were covered in blue bonnets not divorce and whose mountains were red with Autumn maples not the bloodshed of unborn babies and war ravaged nations. Do we not realize that were we to count every drop of rain that fell from the heavens we would not yet reach the total of the tears I am sure God has wept on our behalf. We were and still remain His creation—a people made not just in love but in His very image. But we have not been watching. And in the meantime, there is nakedness and shame roaming the streets of our lives. On that day when my sister and I faced the accusing pointing finger of Mrs. Sylvester we knew we had failed. Of that there was no question and we didn’t even offer a defense. I’ll be truthful—it was her day to be in charge and the very first words from my mouth were my sister’s full name. I called out her name and pointed directly at her with bold accusation. No way was I going to take responsibility for this when it wasn’t my day to be in charge! If I could go back I would do it differently. I’d have walked up to my baby sister and grabbed her hand. I’d have thanked Mrs. Sylvester and told her it wouldn’t happen again, and I’d have sat down with a stack of books a mile high and begun to read to that sweet little girl. But I don’t get a do over and the truth is that I pinned the blame on my sister because it was her official day to be in charge. Aren’t we like that? When the walls crumble and the facades are all seen through, when the truth of our lives finally rears it’s ugly face we are so quick to point a finger at someone else. It isn’t my fault this happened. If he or she had done this or that we’d never have been in this situation. It’s never our fault. We always want to shift the blame to someone else. But here’s the thing—it’s not about fault or blame. It’s about who will take responsibility from here on out to see that they conduct themselves in a manner worthy of the image of our Creator. That’s what it’s about. When we ask who failed, we ask the wrong question. What we need to ask is “Who is willing now to stand up and get it right?” When you and I die we will not answer for the person who was supposed to be in charge, we’ll not answer for our sisters, our brothers or our spouses. We’ll not answer for our employers, employees, negligent banks, friends, parents or anyone else. We will answer only for ourselves. But the thing is that when we’re confronted with the sometimes harsh truths of our lives we don’t like accepting responsibility. Maybe that’s because we’re filled with pride and don’t like admitting that we bombed. Just today my boys were outside playing football. They were utterly engrossed in their game and one of them just couldn’t bare the thought of stopping to use the restroom. You know how this tale ends—we had a little accident. And here’s the funny part—that little man immediately blamed it on his other brother. He insisted that had the other brother not been playing football with him he never would have had the accident! I about laughed out loud. We just hate accepting responsibility for our choices and decisions when they go awry. The thing about that kind of pride is that it fails to recognize that apart from God we can do nothing. Of course we bomb when we are not functioning under the umbrella of God’s Word. Of course we experience mayhem when we’re in a marriage where one partner lives outside of God’s will. It’s never fun for the partner who is obeying God, but the reality is that anytime we are in a relationship or situation where one person fails to obey God or operate their life within the framework of God’s standards we will experience fallout whether or not we are the offending party. My little sister at two years of age was in no way responsible for opening that door and walking into harms way. But the two older sisters who were not carrying out our responsibility certainly were on the hook for what happened. The sad reality is that had some predator been in our neighborhood that day our little sister would have experienced a dreadful consequence of our failure to keep our eyes on her at all times. Unfortunately that happens to obedient Christians all the time. And every single time it is tragic. Every single time it happens we want to know again and again who IS in charge? And if Jesus could with nail-scarred hands pry back the sun like paper and peer out from behind that yellow ball I believe He’d say, “Dad’s in charge. And He’s working.” He’s working. Oh how we need to hear that. How we need to believe those two simple words and repeat them over and over every single time we are plagued with questions and doubts. Philippians 1:6 says “He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.” God began a work in our lives and He will not quit, will not falter, will not slumber, will not retire, will not give up or give in. His promise is that He WILL complete the very work He began in our lives. Psalm 115 says “Not to us, O Lord, not to us! But to your name bring honor, for the sake of your loyal love and faithfulness. Why should the nations say, “Where is their God? Our God is in heaven!” I love the idea that it’s God’s reputation at stake when we face daunting storms in our lives. When we are the little girl being returned to our home completely vulnerable and afraid and someone asks who in the world is responsible for this? Without hesitation or question we can boldly proclaim, “God Almighty is in charge and He is already at work to restore to us those things that were lost.” The only difference between a believer and a non believer in this life is that the believer can say with complete confidence, “My God is in heaven! He lives and He is working in my life all things for my good.” We may not be able to see any good that can come from circumstances in our lives, but if good is promised in God’s word then we WILL experience that goodness. We will. And we must live like we believe our God has eyes to see and ears to hear the situations and circumstances of our lives. Psalm 115 goes on to say, “You loyal followers of the Lord, trust in the Lord! He is their deliverer and protector. The Lord takes notice of us, he will bless—he will bless the family of Israel, he will bless the family of Aaron. He will bless his loyal followers, both young and old.” These are words we can stand on, cling to, breath and live by when we want desperately to question whether God is really in control of our lives. He is, a thousand times over, He is. And if God is in control then without question the outcome will be for our eternal good. May we learn that truth in our life is God. So often we get confused and think that the present reality of our lives is the end. If it is reality, then it is truth we assume. But actually the truth is God amidst every single facet of our lives. And that truth is good—all the time. Lord, help us to stand on truth. Help us to stand on you God, knowing that you are good. Knowing that you are faithful. Knowing that your love for us is everlasting. Knowing that in the very center of the greatest trials of our lives, You stand calm and speaking peace into our spirits. Thank you for being an “ever-present help in times of trouble.” Help us to accept responsibility for our actions and trust that You are greater than all of our mistakes and You are even greater still than the mistakes that befall us at the hands of others. Amen. (P.S. I changed Mrs. Sylvester's name)

Let's Just Walk Through Some Scripture

Read With Me: Psalm 134:1a,2 Attention! Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord...Lift your hands toward the sanctuary and praise the Lord! Psalm 138:2 I will give you thanks with all my heart; before the heavenly assembly I will sing praises to you. I will bow down toward your holy temple, and give thanks to your name, because of your loyal love and faithfulness, for you have exalted your promise above the entire sky. When I cried out for help, you answered me. You made me bold and energized me. Before the answer has arrived to my earthly eyes I choose to praise my God who will send it. Before the rains will dance on dry ground baked by weeks of sun, I choose to praise the God who will pour it down. Before my lost family member returns to the safety and shelter of God, I choose to praise the God who will "snatch them away from our enemies" (Ps. 136:24) Before rest comes to a weary body, I will praise the God who energizes us until our heads hit the pillow. Preemptive praise allows us to walk in the victories God will bring before they ever arrive. What if complaining about the ache in their stomachs, the Israelites had begun singing the praises of the God they knew would feed them? How much more incredible would it have been for them to see that manna floating to the ground after they had already insisted He would provide? Instead of having to admit their doubt and lack of faith they would have been able to dance and run and rejoice in the evidence they had not seen before but chosen to believe. Psalm 111 (This is a passage that always removes my feet from the quicksand of doubt and firmly cements them in truth--a perfect platform for praise) "Praise the Lord! I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart, in the assembly of the godly and the congregation. The Lord's deeds are great, eagerly awaited by all who desire them." (notice the deeds are great before they've been received--the author counts on the greatness of God even while He is eagerly awaiting it in his life) "His work is majestic and glorious, and his faithfulness endures forever." (Remember his reputation is on the line here... He'll do things for the sake of His glory) "He does amazing things that will be remembered, the Lord is merciful and compassionate. He gives food to his faithful followers;" (Are you hungry? Some here in our area of literally hungry and need work simply to provide food for their families, but there are still others whose hearts have become emaciated with hunger for the truths of God in their lives) "He always remembers His covenant." (Always. Count on it. Bank on it. Pre-praise Him for it. He has NOT forgotten.) "He announced that He would do mighty deeds for His people, giving them a land that belonged to other nations." "His acts are characterized by faithfulness and justice; all His precepts are reliable." (Do you live like you know this to be true in your life? Do you live like you have been adopted by a Father who is known for His faithfulness and reliability?) "They are forever firm and should be faithfully and properly carried out. He delivered His people; He ordained that his covenant be observed forever. His name is holy and awesome." (When you call on the name of Jesus you are calling on a name above every other name--set apart--different than anyone else you could call on. He will never leave, never forsake. Believe it. Stand tall and firm knowing you are crying out to a God who hears and a God who moves and acts.) To obey the Lord is the fundamental principle for wise living; all who carry out his precepts acquire good moral insight. He will receive praise forever." (The old hymn Trust and Obey comes to mind because this is the basic framework in our relationship with God. Trust His character to be what He says it will be and then obey--live your life like you know you can count on the God who has given you operational instructions. Obedience always follows trust, and blessing follows obedience. Before any of it, may we begin with praise for all that we know to be true--the evidence always follows.)

Freeze--part 2

Last night we were playing dark hide and seek outside with our children. This game happens to be a personal favorite of mine. Corty, our youngest is an incredible hide and seek player himself, but playing under the cover of darkness is frightening for him. Last night he said to me as we were huddled into a corner, "Mommy, we have to be still as statues." Yes, we do--or we are found out. Corton was willing to be still as a statue as long as he was cradled in my arms, but had I put him down, he would have gone running as fast as he could for what he was most comfortable with--the light of the house. He chose to trust me though and loved every moment of our game. Choosing to trust God when obeying Him doesn't fit what we want or what we see as the most sensible choice is an act of faith--acting on evidence not seen or emotions not felt. The result of choosing to trust will always be blessing, but let's be honest, the courage to make that choice is sometimes very difficult to muster. When it comes to trust I tend to struggle with two different veins--trusting God with our past and trusting God with present circumstances that go against what common sense would dictate. My husband and I often reflect on the decisions of our past and wonder "what if" we had done this or that. In those moments we have a choice to make--do we trust the sovereignty of God even in decisions that appear to have been wrong and claim the truth of Romans 9 that He does indeed work all things together for our good or do we wallow in frustration over outcomes in life of which we aren't certain? When it comes to the present circumstances in which we often find ourselves, it is challenging for me to stare down a situation and then look at God and say without hesitation, your ways are better. Today, I'd like to discuss trusting God with present circumstances and Lord willing tomorrow I'll discuss trusting God with our past. Yesterday I wrote about the freeze-tag games of the heart--how Jehoshaphat guided his people to victory by fasting, prayer and then a willingness to obey God and be still while God fought the battle they faced. I just know if I had been there I would have created dissension among the ranks of the people. "Guys, I think our king has really lost perspective. He's not being responsible. We need to be prepared. Let's at least arm ourselves and hide our women and children. Don't you think that's the most prudent decision? Our children are a stewardship from God--we need to take them to a cave somewhere and put guards out front. Then we can go to the place of battle." Can't you hear me saying that? Apparently though, the people just obeyed God without question. Nowhere in this account does scripture mention even one individual who disagrees or dares to argue with the direction the nation takes. God spoke. They trusted and obeyed. Walk with me through the scriptural path of this story beginning in verse 18 of II Chronicles chapter 20. God had just told Jehoshaphat and his people tomorrow you will go out to battle and you won't fight, but you'll win. At this point, I would have said, 'wait a minute. we need to check our reception. I don't think we heard Him right.' But Jehoshaphat "bowed down with his face toward the ground, and all the people of Judah and the residents of Jerusalem fell down before the Lord and worshipped him." In our families, we can set the ball rolling when it comes to the act of trusting God. When we get down on our faces before God and worship--declare to God His worthiness to be trusted--we are laying the footwork for blessing. Obedience precedes blessing every single time in scripture. I hesitate to say that because I never want anyone to misunderstand me and think I am saying that God will give us red convertibles and fancy houses if we obey Him. I hope you know my heart when I say that God cannot give us the abundance His word promises unless we place ourselves in a position ready to receive His outpouring. We must be on our knees in submission, surrender and worship in order to receive from God. As a mother, I realize that often I set the tone for response to circumstances in our home. When uncomfortable things happen it's me who needs to immediately acknowledge God in that circumstance--the children will follow suit just as the people of Judah followed Jehoshaphat's lead. Mommy's are so good at putting children to sleep. We cradle them in our arms, whisper "shhhhh, shhhhh, close your eyes" into the lobes of their soft ears and we sing quiet songs of peace as they drift off to a place where they are completely safe. This is in effect what we do when we guide our family to the feet of God. "Shh, close your eyes. You are safe. Let's go to our heavenly Father. Shhh." We need to practise the art of lulling our family to peaceful slumber in the arms of A Mighty God. Right after they fell on their faces before God, some Levites got up and the Bible says they "loudly" praised the Lord. (19) The concept of pre-praise seems presumptuous to me. I'd sure hate to be made a fool of. Remember Y2K? All those sincere individuals who insisted the world was coming to an end and we needed to be prepared? Members of my family gathered kerosene heaters and barrels of fuel and filled closets with canned goods. They were prepared. In the end we found ourselves celebrating with friends toasting in the new year as the clock struck twelve and nothing happened but the sound of clanking glasses and blissful wishes for a new year. Wouldn't it be so embarrassing to start praising the goodness of God in a situation only to have him refuse to exercise His power? It would be, yes. But, God's not an abandoner--He doesn't hang us out to dry. He is faithful to His Word and we need to become pre-praisers so confident in the abilities of our Heavenly Father that with boldness we say to our friends and family, "God is good and we know He will make a way in this situation." We can't know what way He will make--only God knows the plans He has for us--but we can know they are good. The next morning scripture says they marched out and Jehoshaphat reassured them with a tender address. "Oh Judah...trust in the Lord your God and you will be safe!" (20b) He understood there must have been a few Sarah's in the group just shaking in their boots. Have you ever said to your children at bedtime when they are feeling frightened and alone, "Oh, Johny, you are safe little one." If you were here with me and we were sitting knee to knee and face to face, I'd look into your eyes and speak the same to you and whatever situation you or your loved ones are facing. "Dear friends, trust in the Lord your loving Father and you will be safe. You will be okay." We need to hear those words. We need to speak those words and we need to believe them. Then Jehoshaphat made the conscious choice to appoint people to make music of praise to God declaring His splendor. Remember, he did this before the battle had been won. And they sang, "Give thanks to the Lord, for his loyal love endures." (21b) Sometimes the thing that gets my faith really moving is good praise music. I can turn a CD on and the Spirit of God can gently massage the fear from my heart like a masseuse rubs the tension and kinks out of a weary back. We need to be intentional about choosing praise before we've found resolution in the events of life. I firmly believe there is a direct correlation between the choice to praise and the movement of God. Verse 22 says, "When they began to shout and praise, The Lord suddenly attacked." They may have been afraid, they may not have agreed or even understood how this battle was going to be won, but they trusted the goodness and power of God, they obeyed His clear directions, and they praised His loyalty and faithfulness before He ever moved one finger against their enemy. And as the sound waves of their praise rose to the heavens like the fragrance of a burning sacrifice the mighty hand and outstretched arm of God came down and obliterated every single breath from their enemy. Hebrews 13:15 says, "...let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of our lips, acknowledging his name. And do not neglect to do good..." Oh, how we need to choose the sacrifice of praise and then simply obey. I told you yesterday that God has allowed two situations in our life recently that call for a freezing of my spirit as I stand steady and still awaiting the moving of God. Those situations also call for pre-praise. Today, I am choosing to declare the goodness, the faithfulness, the ableness of God in these areas. He will move. I have no idea how He will act--what He will do, but He is good and His loyal love endures forever. Of that I am as confident as I am of the air I breath. I am waiting to see a display of God's heavenly fireworks and I know they will be spectacular!

Freeze Part 1

I'm frozen--not moving, that is--and it's the most powerful position I've ever been in. A few weeks back my brother and sister in law sent out an email telling us that the passports they were supposed to be receiving in a foreign country were not coming through. She's expecting and they need the passports for travelling home to North America. Things are always sticky in these countries and it seems nothing is ever cut and dry. Apparently people can be denied several times before they ever receive proper documents. But then, they sent another email informing us they had heard from someone that their passports were going to come through after all. He said in this email: we did nothing but pray. It was unexplainable because they had not called and tried to get someone to pull some strings, they had not made any move at all--just prayed. That sentence--we did nothing but pray--just wedged itself into my heart and wiggled around until there was enough room for it to take root. I loved it. I thought about it. I mulled over it. Well known for making a few calls and getting things done, this is slightly contrary to my nature. In a similar situation about ten years ago when my husband and I were fast approaching our wedding with a fiancee visa application languishing amidst the red tape of immigration services, I was found on the phone to the president's office. Before all was said and done the president's personal secretary and I were on a first name basis. Ironically, we didn't get that paperwork--not even the president of the United States can help you when God is not fighting the battle. The difference between what happened with my brother and sister-in-law and what happened to my husband and I many years prior is simple--one battle was God's and the other was not. When God has a purpose there is nothing and no one who can thwart, change, alter or effect His intentions. We weren't trying to go against God--we just didn't have His master plan and weren't aware of what He would accomplish. We had prayed for His direction and He faithfully gave it to us through a closed door. What I want to talk about though is that sometimes God calls us to freeze in order to move mightily on our behalf. As a little girl I loved to play freeze tag outside our churchyard after Sunday evening services. The air would be thick like sweet tea and lightning bugs would join in our game dodging our lanky legs and arms as we chased each other down. We'd run from the bigger kids and inevitably they'd tag us. Then, we'd freeze. Only in the frozen moments would we catch our breath for the rest of the game. We couldn't move until someone else freed us from that position--all we could do was breath. And breath we did--we'd been running our little hearts out and we'd suck oxygen in like a thick milk shake until we were ready to run again. At some point, someone would come along and touch us and off we'd run again into the night. That was a childhood game, but in life sometimes the most powerful position we can ever be in is the frozen one. It's there that we catch our breath, gain perspective on what's happening around us and it's in that position that someone else is doing the running while we wait to be freed. This week two major things came up that set my feet to moving--I was ready to deal with both of them right away. Before the phone call that delivered the first news had ended I had a mental list of how I'd alter my day to accomplish the resolution of this situation. But that sentence from my brother-in-law's email came to me, special delivery from the Holy Spirit I'm sure. And I paused. Pray, Sarah. Just pray. Freeze. So, pray I did. Again and again. And then of course I did what any sane girl with four sisters would do--I called one of them. I love the phone a friend feature in life, don't you? Besides, that wasn't doing anything...that was just talking. (I know I still have much to learn) My sister said to me point blank, "Sarah, if it were me, I'd just wait. You don't need to do anything right now. Just wait and pray. Be ready, but wait." Well, when I'm in doing mood see if I call her again. Truly though, I thank God for godly family. Obviously God was speaking to me. I've been tagged and now I'm frozen. Jehoshaphat received a rather shocking bit of news himself during his reign over Judah. Some messengers arrived and informed him that a "huge army is attacking you from the other side of the Dead Sea..." (II Chr. 20:2b) Scripture says "Jehoshaphat was afraid, so he decided to seek the Lord's advice. He decreed that all Judah should observe a fast." (II Chr. 20:3) I love that. Here they are facing an impending attack and he tells them, "Don't eat. We're gonna stop and get advice from God." Hello? What about a Hollywood moment when on a horse reared to the heavens he shouts out, "An army's coming! Ready yourselves! Hide the women and children. Gather the men from your villages. Get your swords! We're going into battle!" None of that. In fact the Bible says, "All the men of Judah were standing before the Lord, along with their infants, wives and children." (II Chr. 20:13) Not only did they not prepare their families for the worst, they actually took the time to gather their families and stand still before the Lord. The most incredible thing we can do as a family in the midst of crisis is get on our knees before God and seek His face. But so often one of us runs to email our friend, another grabs their cell phone to call someone and another gets on google to research a solution. Meanwhile like our rusting landlines, the direct line to God remains unused. How we must grieve His heart to see us darting about in an effort to fight a battle that is not in our hands. When we fight with our man made weapons ignoring the face of God we swing imaginary swords at imaginary enemies because our battle is not against flesh and blood. It's as though God must want to whisper, "Sarah, you missed him. Sarah, that's not your enemy. He's up here. I got him. Sarah, you are fighting against air. Are you tired yet? Lay down your weapons and pray, Sarah. I'll handle it from here." The Israelites were right on the money this time around. They got before God and they prayed a prayer that recounted God's power, acknowledged that He rules over the earth and the heavens, declared His unstoppable strength and in humility they said, "we will cry out to you for help in our distress, so that you will hear and deliver us. We don't know what we should do; we look to you for help." (II Chr. 20:9, 12) I love that they didn't say, "Please, if it's your will deliver us." They were confident that their God would move. And He says to them, "Don't be afraid and don't panic because of this huge army! For the battle is not yours, but God's." I don't think the army was huge to God, but isn't it neat that He acknowledged that to them it was massive. Sometimes the things we face seem so impossible, so insurmountable to our human eyes and yet to God, they are but a vapor. When in God's hands, with a simple flick of his finger or a puff of breath from his lips, they are annhialated, oblitereated, eradicated from our lives. What we need to get is that when the circumstances we face involve in the purposes of God in our lives or the lives of those we love, the battle is not ours. God told the Israelite people, "You will not fight in this battle. Take your positions, stand, and watch the Lord deliver you...don't be afraid and don't panic! Tomorrow march out toward them; the Lord is with you!" (II Chr. 20:17) It was simple. In the end, when the men of Judah arrived on the battle scene, "they saw dead bodies on the ground; there were no survivors!" (II Chr. 20:25) God defeated their enemy before they even arrived. That's the power of God at work accomplishing His purposes for all eternity and He desires to do the very same thing in our lives today. The process was relatively straight forward. The people received bad news of impending battle. They gathered together with their families and fasted and prayed. They acknowledged their dependence on God and His power to act. And then, they stood and watched. God will work in the circumstances of our lives, but we need to get down on our faces before Him and beseech Him to do so. We need to cry out to the God of heaven and earth and declare His strength and ability and claim His power in our lives. We need not panic and begin a frenzy of activity in attempts to resolve situations and shape circumstances to our advantage. I'm not advocating inaction when God calls us to move. God told the Israelites to walk across the Red Sea and they obeyed Him, but what I am saying is that before we run we need to freeze--freeze before our loving and merciful God Almighty and wait for Him to free us to move. God's resolutions are always superior to anything we can accomplish. You know the Bible says it took three entire days for the people to haul off all the plunder--supplies, clothing and valuable items--that they took from the battle they never fought! And when the resolution has come from God, there will be peace. "Jehoshaphat's kingdom enjoyed peace; his God made him secure on every side." (II Chr. 20:30) I'm not promising extreme wealth and perfect harmony from a human standpoint, but I can promise without hesitation that the plunder of a spirit filled with the fruit of a heart committed to God will be more than we can eat in this lifetime. And I know that the peace God will give will be the kind of peace that stands before the armies of our lives and says, "My God is with me and He will give me the victory because this battle is His." So, here I stand, frozen until God chooses to free me. My spirit is in prayer and fasting right now as I expectantly await God's movement. And I know that in this position, I am more powerful than if I were on the phone with the president's secretary and though I don't know the outcome, there is peace on every side. Amen.

A Matter of Inches

"Did somebody cut my beam?" It was a fair question, really. Amidst a mountain of miscellaneous tasks I created for myself in order to feel useful--picking up scraps and garbage--I heard him ask it. He was the man with experience and understanding of the plans. In fact, the house we are building exists in precise sketch format on a simple graphing notebook. By sketch I mean a drawing of the house with all its rooms and exact measurements--where the windows are to go etc. But, the real plans of the house exist in this guys' mind. His and my husband's. We needed his help because he's built tons of homes and he understands the process. He knows exactly how to support a 28 foot ceiling and more importantly he knows how to make our house square. Earlier that morning he had made the cut for the beam that would go on this particular wall according to mathematical calculations. He builds the entire house according to math--it could be possible for him to do it without a level or a square for that matter. The cut that he made was accurate, but when the crew went to nail it on it appeared out of level. So, yes, someone had cut his beam. One half inch was all they shaved off, but the end result was a wall one half inch out. It doesn't seem like a lot, but apparently it is. Here's what struck me--other than secretly wondering whether that one half inch would mean a half inch gap in the roof where rain, could pour in, where bats and mice could crawl in, where snakes could slither in--he had made the cut according to a mental plan based on truth. "The math never lies." That's what he said as they were disconnecting all the boards and fixing the mishap. What had taken place was that when his crew--who didn't know the plan and couldn't see it--saw the way things were shaping up, they questioned his cut. And they changed things. They even got out a level and "shot" it to be certain. What they did appeared to be exactly right. Theirs was an honest mistake. So what got me thinking was this--they didn't trust because they couldn't see his plan and what they did see appeared wrong when in reality it was perfect and precise. Isn't it exactly the same with God in our lives? Psalm 112:1 says "How blessed is the one who obeys the Lord, who takes great delight in keeping his commands." We will struggle to obey God unless we trust Him completely with the set of plans for our lives that exist in his head. Sure, we've got a rough sketch--a general idea of the way things are taking form. But God sees it all. In Jeremiah 17:11 God says, "For I know the plans I have for you..." God knows them, but he never gave us a blueprint. Hebrews 11 reminds us "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence not seen." We can't see what God is doing and so it becomes incredibly hard for us to believe that He is right. One of the most powerful passages relating to trusting God and obeying Him is found in Jeremiah 17:5-8. "The Lord says, " I will put a curse on people who trust in mere human beings, who depend on mere flesh and blood for their strength, and whose hearts have turned away from the Lord. They will be like a shrub in the desert. They will not experience good things even when they happen. It will be as though they were growing in the desert, in a salt land where no one can live. My blessing is on those people who trust in me, who put their confidence in me. They will be like a tree planted near a stream whose roots spread out toward the water. It has nothing to fear when the heat comes. Its leaves are always green. It has no need to be concerned in a year of drought. It does not stop bearing fruit." Every single time we look at the circumstances in our lives--dwindling bank accounts, frustrating spouses, disobedient children, annoying neighbors, rude drivers, ungrateful friends, career changes, flirting colleagues, hurt, anger, disappointment--we have a choice to make. Will we trust God and obey Him though we can't see how His way could be right? Or will we take matters into our own hands and trust our human strength and wisdom to be greater than God's? It sounds ridiculous when put that way, doesn't it? In the moments when I snap at my children I've trusted that a hasty fleshly word will be more meaningful in raising them than a gentle rebuke from God's Word. In the times when I spend on credit because I want something out of our budget I've concluded that God's provision is not enough and I need to provide for myself on credit. If I were to entertain the advances of a forward gentleman we know I would be saying loudly and clearly that the husband God provided isn't right and I need to correct it. It seems preposterous that we would opt to trust our ways and thinking over the God of the universe and yet we do it all the time. The thing is when we opt not to trust God's ways our lives inevitably end up out of square and there are glaring gaps, sometimes larger than one half inch that leave us incredibly vulnerable. God's intention for us is a mansion of blessing but we are so quick to choose to build ourselves roadside shacks. And then when the rains come we find ourselves soaked in the very home we created. Obedience is our guarantee for protection and shelter. God said "My blessing is on those who trust in me...and How blessed is the one who obeys..." The promise is not that we will live without difficulty, but the trials we face will not be of our own doing. They'll not be the natural consequences of foolish living, they'll be trials hand-picked by God to refine us into a more beautiful reflection of Himself. What I love about God is that He knows we're gonna take matters into our own hands and end up way off in terms of His plan and in His foresight He incorporates our mistakes into his blueprints. Only God can do that. Only God can take our broken homes and make them right. He's not looking to condemn but to love us into trusting Him completely. The Israelites constantly took matters into their own hands and ended up spending quite a bit of time way out of square, but God never once recanted on His promise to them. He was faithful to carry His Word out in their lives despite their disobedience and lack of faith. God is not in the business of leaving us exiled with our gaps, He is in the business of restoring us and fixing every single area in our lives that's out of square. He doesn't show up on the scene and lecture us on how we've messed things up. He shows up and simply says, "Let's get this fixed. We don't want any leaks." Jeremiah 29:14 says "I will make myself available to you, says the Lord. Then I will reverse your plight and will regather you from all the nations and all the places where I have exiled you, says the Lord. I will bring you back to the place from which I exiled you." God's heart is to bring us back. Always to bring us back. And He is available to us every single moment. Trusting God is arguably the hardest part of my walk with him. I am a visual, show me kind of a person. When I come to a point of questioning God, it's important for me to stop and look back over my life at specific moments when without question I know He's been right. Those are my visual reminders of the character of a good, faithful and accurate God. When it comes to my life, God's never missed, never messed and never been mistaken. He's always been perfectly precise. They fixed the wall--it took some extra time and a bit of headache, but they fixed it. They would have saved a lot of time had they trusted in the first place. It's my prayer that when we take the beams of our lives from the Master Planner and lay them out we won't question the way things appear, but rather will say with the Psalmist, "I trust in the Lord without wavering...His work is majestic and glorious, and His faithfulness endures forever." (Psalm 26:1b, 111:3) Read: Psalm 91, 112