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The Real Answer

7/8/2016

Dear American Christians,

In the face of a massacre of public servants doing their duty, I’m going to be the one to go ahead and point this out: we are missing it.

Our response is calculated. It’s logical. It’s largely balanced and not entirely inaccurate, but still, it must be said: we are absolutely missing it.

I’ve heard people calling for stricter laws, stiffer penalties, and more accountability. “It’s a lack of responsibility”, we say; a lack of leadership and inspiration. We rant at each other that the problem is that our response is lacking in vigor or lacking in compassion or our response on the whole creates a problem of semantics. “More unity among Americans will solve the problem,” we say, and I’m here to say this: no, it will not.

God has told us what will solve the problem and it has nothing to do with education or the rule of law or government at all. It isn’t unity, accountability, or responsibility and it is not woven together with poverty or wealth or geography or privilege. It has nothing to do with skin color

What is absolutely required in these times for these horrors is humility. Yes, the humility of the unsaved to embrace Jesus, of course, but far more so the humility of His own people in the face of the sin that will always be in the world.

“If my people who are called by my Name will humble themselves…”

You know what comes next but I think we know the verse so well that we might not know it at all. Do we recognize that the beginning of everything in this conditional promise is humility? Do we acknowledge that, without the “if”, there can be no “then”? Without humility, we’re finished before we have even started; we’re absolutely nowhere.

Anybody else out there feeling like we’re “nowhere”?

We like the end of the verse which says, “…Then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” That part is awesome! God hears us, clears us of wrongdoing, and heals us. That’s beautiful, but when, Lord? When?! We are heartbroken and desperate as we watch the times unfolding in carnality and bloodshed and we look to God to clean up the mess. I believe the answer stands in direct juxtaposition to the first half of the verse. There can be no “then” without the “if” and the “if” is this:

God wants us to humble ourselves before Him. We have to surrender the “You’re not the boss of me!” attitude to which we adhere. We claim to know our Bibles, but we just don’t like “that one part”. Whatever “that one part” is for you, we know it’s there, but we don’t want to be bothered with it. We do not properly humble ourselves - and it's killing us.

God wants us to pray and seek His face. When was the last time you put aside Facebook and iPhones and Netflix in lieu of bowing down to Jehovah and crying out, “What would you have me do, Lord?” – and then doing it? How much effort do you put into knowing God better and following Him more closely? Is it hands-down everything to us or are we executing feel-good rituals... as long as we can wedge them in there while we're drinking coffee?

God wants us to turn from our wicked ways. “What wicked ways? We’re Christians up in here!” Well perhaps we are not currently guilty of what we would consider the heinous sin of the day, but we have absolutely embraced wickedness, and the scars of that are all across our culture. The church has lost her saltiness as we have clamored after all the same idols the world is worshipping with fervor.

Personal holiness has gone out of vogue but unfortunately being in vogue has not. We Christians so closely resemble the world these days that we often don't stand out at all - and we like it that way. :( We are called to be like Jesus, and NOT like the world. Anything different is wickedness from which we should repent. Personal holiness is a foundational element because in its absence, our personal UNholiness affects everything and everyone. It’s a trickle-up effect that starts with me but then extends to my children and my marriage and my neighborhood and my church and my city and my nation.  It is brutally affecting our nation.

Instead of personal holiness, we Christians have embraced personal choice (just as the world has done – sound familiar?). There are too many examples to cite but it comes down to this: too often our attitude as believers is, “I love you, Jesus (and I totally dig your music), but you aren’t the boss of me”. Dear ones, this is the same prideful mentality that is destroying our world through corruption and terrorism and racism. Now, because the church has embraced it as well, the light grows dim and the saltiness is fit only to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

So then, where is hope for a dying world? Where is hope for the future of God’s people in this land? If the light is dim and the salt is no longer salty, the church can no longer serve Him properly as ambassadors to a broken world! Of course, our hope was never in the church, but rather in God Himself. What would it look like to get that right again?

It is there for us at the beginning of the verse: “If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” 2 Chronicles 7:14

Who will join me?

Remember...

1/12/2016

Dear Little Girl waiting for Mama in the washroom,

Would you allow me to tell you that you are beautiful!? I can tell that you don't see it, but it's true. You're shy and that's OK, but already your smile is lovely and your heart shines in your eyes. Never be afraid of that! You aren't ready to say what you're thinking and that's OK, but I pray that at just the right time you will find your voice and speak: speak up; speak out! Speak truth.

I pray you will know that God's image is elegantly engraved all over and in and through you. Yes, you are carrying a bit of extra weight, but that isn't what matters. Don't ever let anyone tell you that's what matters. You are a cherished daughter of the King, so that Princess thing you feel but can't explain? Yeah, that's for real!

I pray you will hold your head high, Darling, for God Almighty has woven you together carefully, brilliantly, and He loves you more than His own life.

For tonight, carry on just as you are; you're great! For the future, I hope you will remember all these things... and I thank you for reminding me of them too.

For All You Tired Mamas Out There - 2: It Will Pass

4/7/2015

So sweet Mama, you're tired. I get it. You were up at 4:30 with a toddler's "Oops ~ didn't quite make it to the potty" change of clothes and bedding - again. By the time your sweetie was re-settled in a clean bed, it was time to feed the baby and you realized that your day had officially started (even though yesterday didn't end until 11:30). Sigh. The sun wasn't even up and you were already discouraged. With the baby nursed and back in bed you decided to grab your Bible while everyone was still sleeping and just as you reached, it came to your attention that your oldest was not only NOT sleeping, he was in fact wide awake, on his way down the hall, and all fired up to tell you about his fire-airplane-candy dream. Then he wanted some breakfast please and you forgot to be annoyed because, I'll be darned, this precious boy remembered to say please before it had even hit 6 am!

While you were making breakfast you remembered that your husband was leaving for work early today and would thus need his lunch early too. Rats!! In trying to flip eggs, slice cucumbers, and hear a third presentation of the fire-airplane-candy dream all at once, you dropped the yoke-coated spatula just as your handsome man came into the kitchen all ready for work. "You were up early!" he said.

Using monumental restraint you did NOT give him "the look" but rather you crowbarred a smile into place and said with as much neutrality as humanly possible, "Yep".

Having gotten a great night of sleep he said with perhaps more enthusiasm than was necessary in that particular moment, "Great! Is my lunch ready?"

Oh the restraint . . . "Ummm, no. Not yet, but I'm working on it."

After your husband was lunched, kissed, and waved to from the front door, your day REALLY took off . . . There was laundry, a second outfit for the baby, stimulating play, the doing of dishes, more laundry, wiping down of the bathroom - again, a third outfit for baby, singing of songs, a walk to the park with sandwiches, encouragement to not eat TOO much dirt, retrieval of a hat from a tree, soothing and Band-Aiding of an owie, a fourth outfit for baby, consideration of what would be for dinner, yet more laundry, the reading of stories, the planting of sticky kisses and finally - FINALLY, it was nap time!!

HALLELUJAH!!!!!

Feeling like a terrible mom you plopped down on the couch praising God - albeit guiltily - that children require naps. You reached for your Bible and . . .

Yeah, well . . . zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Forty minutes later you were awakened by the ringing of the phone and, having taken a deep, deep nap of the perfectly wrong length, you spent a full 60 seconds trying to regain consciousness and get your bearings while your mother-in-law (who was returning YOUR call) went to voice mail. Well . . . shoot.

Your focus snapped together when you realized that the phone had awakened the baby and you were down the hall in 2.4 seconds lest he wake the others. PLEASE, Lord, not THAT!!!!

Back in the living room you sat on the couch to nurse your precious bundle of chub, and as he latched on and you heaved a deep sigh, your eyes locked on his. Those blue, blue eyes framed by long dark lashes the origin of which you and Daddy still can't determine. He looked at you, stopped, and without relinquishing the num nums, he gave you one of those slow sweet smiles that sends milk streaming down his cheek into his ear. You stopped then too - stopped fretting, stopped sighing, stopped grrrrrring - and you smiled back at him. You brushed your fingers across his forehead as he got back to business and your heart heaved a different kind of sigh . . . enduring gratitude for this little life ~ and for these moments.

Then, along with the hard-earned burp came the odor, the warmth on your leg, and . . . ah yes - the fifth outfit of the day for baby. In this moment, however, you did not sigh. You realized . . .

For moms, the good news and the bad news are the same:

It will pass.

The clutter, the noise, the never-getting-stuff-all-the-way-done-before-you-have-to-start-over, the perpetual potty mess, the forgetting what it was like to eat a meal without myriad interruptions, the Legos underfoot, and the exhaustion that makes you literally sick . . . it will pass! Be encouraged, Mama. The good news is it will pass.

But be sober too, sweet Mama, because the bad news is this: it will pass.

The warm pink cheeks will thin out and the fine baby hair will thicken. The little boy in dinosaur jammies will at some point stop telling you his dreams in rich detail first thing in the morning, and your daughter will stop asking if she can wear her tutu to church. They will grow too big to "snuggle" and their eyes will no longer get as big as saucers over the very idea that there might be sidewalk chalk in their near future! They will stop laughing at your jokes and they'll start looking forward to being somewhere other than with you.

All of this is good and right (and there's nothing we can do about it anyway) so the only right response is to savor the bitter-sweetness of every moment. The good news and the bad news are exactly the same, so consider this: Do your best to enjoy every single moment with your children and when, every so often, you hit an impossible moment, just wait . . . it will pass!

In closing I'm going to tell you an important secret, OK? Here it is: The more effort you put into enjoying the sweet moments, the slower and more sweetly they will go. By the same token, the less credence you give to the bitter moments, the faster they will go. I kid you not. There is tremendous power to be found in gratitude, and big-picture perspective has the power to change everything!

So what can you zero in on today to be thankful for? Which moments do you personally find the most bitter, and how might you adjust your perspective to view them as sweeter and more manageable?

The Year of 20/20

1/18/2015

Soooooo, coming up on the New Year I was so excited to write a piece called "2015 - The Year of 20/20". Not surprisingly, however, 2015 is shaping up to be slightly different than I anticipated!

It has been a few hard years, folks - like, going on 8 hard years. Major career changes; HUGE challenges to our hearts, minds, and bodies; birth and death of ginormous dreams; muscle disease; chronic, ahem, digestive issues in 2 of our children; Leukemia diagnosed in our youngest son; and personal pain in the private sector beyond description. And this is a bird's eye view. Ugh.

And then there's this: I am an emotional eater. The more the stress, the more the snacks; the brownies; the Circle K Slushies; the garlic knots from Sardella's; the cookies; the . . . well you get the picture. I also "tuck in" when I am stressed. I am an introvert by nature so the more I'm hurting, the less I want to talk to anyone. Like, anyone. I'm also a born "inside person" so the result of the aforementioned crazy stress load is a person working to stay inside, as comfortable as possible, eating carbs and saying, "Just leave me alone for a little while, OK?"

There are some crises during which this actually worked well for awhile (the first few months of cancer - UGH!!!), but overall, though I was able to fight some of the extraneous symptoms more often than not, two main things have been happening fairly continuously for the better part of 7+ years: I want to eat, and I do NOT want to exercise. You all know where I'm going with this.

Now here comes the confession I do not relish making, are you ready? I have gained 30 pounds in the past 5 years. Ugh. I do have to say that this is God's goodness to me because, according to my behavior, it is pure grace that I have not gained 130 pounds! Yeah, it's been bad. Thankfully I have lost around 100 pounds too, but it's the same 10 pounds or so over and over and over and over and over so it just doesn't count! Add chronic weight loss failure to my list of stressors and round and round we go. Ay yi yi . . .

Then there was a stretch in there for awhile when, every time I started to eat healthy again, someone I love went into the hospital. This is not an exaggeration - every single time. In fact there was a week shortly after one determined push to lose the weight and keep it off that my father-in-law had emergency surgery, Daniel had two nights of fever which takes us to the hospital (cancer - ugh!) and my best friend was hospitalized and almost died right in front of my eyes. That made it INCREDIBLY complicated and discouraging to eat well! I figured then that the best thing I could do for the people I love was to eat as much junk as possible. Yeah. Great plan.

Interestingly, this past November I was just coming out of the slump I talked about in my last post when something happened in our family that made me more determined than ever to get healthy again - Martial Arts.

I will spare you the long and incredible story of how our whole family ended up attending class at USA Martial Arts except to say this ~ we absolutely LOVE it!!! Master John Nottingham is a kind, generous, positive person in addition to being a gifted instructor and a TON of fun for our boys. Everyone there is fantastic and sweet and team/family oriented and we started forming some special friendships with like-minded folks. It serves as a gym for Chad and me as well as sports interaction for the boys. Learning Martial Arts is a lifelong dream come true for me personally and, well, I can't overstate how much we love it.

As we went to class and worked toward our next belt (and it is WORK, let me tell you!), I thought to myself, "Hey, here is an opportunity to do something fun with my family, learning practical skills, meeting great people and . . . wait for it . . . EXERCISE!!!! I know I'm dedicated to Martial Arts so if I combined that with healthy eating, I might actually get into shape!! I could lose 20 pounds and feel 20 years old again! Hey . . . 20/20! I'll call 2015

"The Year of 20/20"!

I was so unbelievably excited. I waited until after the holidays to start eating right (because, well, yeah . . .), but I started really focusing on my training right away. I made up a pack of index cards on which I wrote the skills and maneuvers I wanted to work on faithfully at home. I added in walking almost every day, drinking a ton of water, etc. and I was feeling great about 2015! Shortly before Christmas our whole family tested for - and earned - our gold belts and I was thinking, "Bring. It. ON!!"

Then I started to think, "Hey, exercise is great, but what else could I add in that I want to hold myself accountable for?" The first thing I thought of was reading the Bible through, cover to cover in one year. I used to do that regularly but I haven't done it in awhile. (And I thought it was perfect since being steeped in God's Word helps me toward 20/20 vision - get it?) I also want to read more of the great, spiritually nourishing books that have been sitting on my shelves just waiting for me. In the end I created a spreadsheet of 9 disciplines I want to incorporate into my life more steadily in 2015. Exercise and clean eating, absolutely, but also using the gifts and talents God has giving me, cooking more for my family, playing more games with my boys, and even being more faithful about writing this blog. I didn't want to over-do it with new and amazing stuff, I just wanted to create a format for holding myself accountable for the things I "should" be doing anyway. (I hate the word "should" but let's face it, there ARE some things we simply should be doing!!)

So, my spreadsheet was made, my index cards (weekly check lists) were made, and I was ready and excited to start 2015 - right up until December 29.

Would you believe I hurt my knee? Personally, I could not believe it.

I mildly hyper-extended it in class; not a devastating injury, just enough to kick me out of Martial Arts for awhile and make it very challenging to, you know . . . walk.

LORD, are you KIDDING ME?!?!?!

I went into an absolute spin. I could not believe it. My dream was wrecked, my plan was wrecked, our family time was wrecked, my goals for testing for my next belt (WITH my family!) was wrecked - and my nerves were wrecked. How much can a girl take?!

I cried out to God - "Lord, I wasn't worshipping Martial Arts! It hasn't become an idol or anything! I just want to get healthy again!!! Did you hear me? I'm not even trying to get skinny - I just want to be healthy! Don't you want me to be healthy too?? Oh, LORD!!!!"

It was awful. I cried the bitter tears of the hopelessly heartbroken - not because of the knee exactly (though losing Martial Arts was a huge blow!), but because the knee was just one more thing on a very LONG list of things that weren't working right! It wasn't supposed to go that way!! Like the MAJOR career shift recently; like Chad's health suffering; like cancer invading the body of my baby boy. "Lord, is it seriously just not possible for something good in my life to WORK RIGHT?!?!" I was beside mysboth

Add to this the practical implications of Mama being out of commission. The doctor said to "stay off of it" if I wanted it to heal. Grrrrrr!!!!!!! Yes, I want it to heal but, hello! I have 4 kids! And we homeschool! And my husband is not well! And I really, really want to do Martial Arts!!!!! But yes, I want it to heal. So I called for a boy when I couldn't reach my Chapstick. I called for a boy when I couldn't both use the crutches AND move my drink from one room to the next. And I iced it and I elevated it and I asked Chad to run to Walmart for me. And I sat on a bench in my jeans (trying HARD, though unsuccessfully, to not cry) and watched my family do Martial Arts without me.

And I hated it. I was smothered by the irony that even three months ago I would have loved an opportunity to just sit in a chair and read a book. Now that I WANT to be up and exercising and working hard - I can't. Irony. I hate irony. I also can't be in the kitchen cooking healthy food like I want to be - or out shopping for said food. That darn knee changed everything!!

Of course, in the middle of everything, God met me. In my knee pain, Martial Arts grief, and general weariness through and through He was there. I have learned this: if I am open to the Lord, He will meet me wherever I am.

This time, ironically, He met me in doing sit-ups. I was so frustrated that I couldn't be working out and I was concerned that I would actually gain weight from just sitting around not doing even basic physical activity. Well, one day after I did my dreaded PT exercises, I wanted to see if I could do sit-ups. Guess what?! I COULD!! Praise God, doing sit-ups doesn't affect my knee at all! It seems kind of silly actually, but it was that one small victory that helped shift my entire perspective off of what I can't do and onto what I CAN do. I was excited. I was empowered! I was encouraged.

So then all of this is to tell you I haven't given up on 2015 being the Year of 20/20. Certain parts of it will have to wait - and that's OK. My next belt might have to wait - and that's OK. I'm writing this to tell you that I'm growing up. I realize I can't afford to let every blow be the end of me (if only because the blows just keep coming!). I'm learning the truth of the fact that everything that happens to me is 10% circumstances and 90% attitude. I simply can't afford to live my life with that ratio reversed. As I write, I have a pounding sinus headache because I'm getting a cold and to that I say, "Whatever, Lord! It's your head. It's your knee and it's your 2015. I'm going to do my best with what you give me".

Of course it helped my attitude that my physical therapist said I only have to stay off of my knee if/when it hurts. Then my dad came to town for the sole purpose of encouraging his distraught daughter which was a precious gift! It also helped my attitude that my PT exercises are serving me in preparation for Marital Arts and that, if I'm careful, I can do Marital Arts from the waist up. These are all good things that make me happier, but I pray I will allow the bad things to make me more trusting.

Maybe 2015 will be the year of 20/20 vision! Of learning to see things as God sees them ~

and trusting Him with them all.

Why Did They Sing?

12/24/2014

While we celebrate Christmas, it occurs to me that the birth of Christ actually could have been a time of mourning for all of Heaven. After all, the Crown Prince had departed; set out on a journey of humiliation and agony. In place of His rightful comfort and safety in the throne room of Heaven, he agreed to take on the flesh of crippled humanity and entrust himself to our broken ways. Jesus consented to emerge cold and weak from the womb of a peasant as the most helpless and vulnerable of all Creation – He became an infant.

The angels knew He would walk this earth in struggle, sweating, getting scraped and muddy, bearing up under fever and flu. He also bore the brunt of scorn and scandal given the circumstances of His birth and He had to watch as His good mother was likely jeered and gossiped about in the marketplace. Oh the unbearable burden of descending from Heaven to be surrounded by sin and depravity! Because our inherent approach is selfish and power-hungry, dozens of baby boys were murdered as a jealous puppet king sought to maintain his control – welcome, Jesus. Welcome to the sewer we have made of your world.

How did the angels sing, “Glory!” knowing that this perfect, humble babe, their King, would grow to gain not a crown, but a cross? That He would love and teach and serve, only to be butchered as a criminal and laid in a borrowed grave? That He would pour out His blood to save the souls of the very men who laid on the scourge? Oh yes, it was those who drove the cruel Roman spikes into His Heavenly hands who also drove the heart of the Good Shepherd to submit Himself to the slaughter, for He came not only to seek but to save that which was lost. And oh. How. Lost. We. Were.

The angels praised Jesus for his majesty – for He was the rightful King though we did not honor Him as such. They worshiped Him for His holiness – though we misunderstood that too. They chorused glad tidings of great joy that would be to all people – the good news that wasn’t for Jesus but for us because of Him.

They sang because we were in darkness but our rescue was at hand – the long-awaited Redeemer had finally come! It was Hope that was born in the stable that night; true eternal Joy that whimpered in the straw. They sang because our sin-shackles need not bind us any more. They sang, praising God for His Divine love and mercy; for the matchless unspeakable Grace that provided salvation for desperate men. They sang because God was bending down to embrace His creation; we, the tortured prisoners who could never work our way back to Him.

The angels sang because Jesus is worthy of praise and they sang because Salvation had come. Heaven’s loss was our gain. Glory to God in the Highest!!

God gave everything He had that first Christmas. He gave it to us though we had not earned it and because He knew we would never deserve it. This Christmas consider . . . the cost of the Gift and the glory of the Giver; and consider your need for what was provided. Have you accepted this gift of Salvation freely offered from the wounded hand of the Risen King? The word Jesus means Salvation. Don’t leave this gift unopened. It’s for you!

What Christmas is For . . .

12/18/2014

My Dad follows this blog closely and he has been my biggest source of support and encouragement as I have pursued this writing endeavor.  Well, he knows better than anyone that I haven't written here in a couple of months and a few days ago he emailed me and suggested I write a little something for Christmas. My reply was, "I can't write, Dad. I have nothing to say."

I've been quiet on these pages lately. Truth be told I have in fact been stunned into complete silence by some unexpected circumstances this Fall. I'll sum them up as discreetly as I can and then I'll get to my point:

1.) At God's direct instruction I stepped up to a Goliath-sized challenge in September. I worked hard on preparing for a big fight that was waaaaaay outside of both my comfort zone and my skill set, but the Lord called and I answered. I poured out my heart (and time and money) and when I went into battle I got absolutely drilled into the mat, end of story, game over, check please!   Wait now, wasn't it Goliath on the mat at the end of that story? Yes, but in my story Goliath walked away victorious, back to his corruption and injustice, dusting himself off from the inconvenience of having to squash me like a bug. Um . . . Lord?

It sat me down pretty hard.

2.) Shortly thereafter there were talks that a significant undertaking and lifelong dream into which my whole family has been pouring our lifeblood for the better part of a decade will almost certainly be coming to a premature, incomplete, stumbling, screeching halt.  This one is absolutely breaking my heart in ways I can't describe and I have questions for God but no answers. Lots and lots of questions . . . but zero answers.

This one knocked me down pretty hard.

3.) Finally, an important and ongoing situation which has been problematic for a long time but seemed like it had finally been resolved blew up again. Long-awaited, much-needed, freshly-established hope was crushed and I went positively sprawling.

So I found myself on the proverbial floor having taken, not one but three unexpected and major blows in short order - and I was shaken to the core. I knew God was in control. I knew He was good and that He has an important plan in process. I knew this, but I couldn't feel it.

And I couldn't get up.

All of this came on the heels of 7 years of hell . . . wave after wave of difficulty and stress and pain and uncertainty and trying hard but getting nowhere and always being so unbelievably tired. Then cancer invaded Daniel's little body and there was also muscle disease and other excruciating things I won't talk about here, and when this Fall hit with even more pain and disillusionment, I just couldn't get up.

I found that the stunning effect of these defeats had permeated me through and through and I simply could not get up. I tried. I wanted to! I knew I "should", but I couldn't find my equilibrium and I couldn't get my feet under me. I curled up in a ball and covered my head and waited for it to pass - this terrible crushing weight with its double vision and ringing ears and core-shaking discouragement. I felt terrible all the time!!!

Then it came. The criticism. The blame. The judgment about how long I had been "on the floor" and how I should be handling it better and how I should get up and what I should be doing instead of just lying there; like kicks to the gut of a man who is already bleeding profusely.  Perhaps a sip of water please? But no . . . Wham!! Again and again the blows rained down bringing expectations and shame and I covered my head and my heart and I curled up as tightly as I could and I cried, "Just leave me alone!"

Anyway, that's the gist of the Ugly that has been running rampant at my house. It is sadly not what encouraging blogs are made of, so I have been quiet. I have been grieving. I have been depressed. I have been angry.  Not hiding exactly, but maybe a little bit, and oh so broken.

Then as I lay in bed last night pondering all of these things in my numbness, I realized I do have something to say because while this is not the stuff of Christmas cheer, it is absolutely the stuff of Christmas

This . . . this mess right here . . . this ugliness . . . this inability to get up . . . this is what Christmas is for. This is why Jesus came!

He came because we are broken. He came because we are desperate! He came because, in one way or another, we're all struggling to "get up off of the floor" ~ and He knew we couldn't do it alone.

We like Christmas to be pretty; all sparkly and colorful with music playing and bells ringing and children laughing as they tear into the perfect presents before we all eat the perfect pie. These ideas make for terrific greeting cards and I'm not judging that, but can we consider together for a moment that Christmas was born out of ugliness? Jesus left His throne in Heaven came here because we are a mess! The root of everything that's beautiful at Christmas is that 2,000 years ago the mighty Creator of the Universe bent down to become "God with Us". We were heartbroken and hopeless - but He is Emmanuel.

The Lord is working on my heart this Christmas. Not to be better - not yet. Not to get up and get going - not yet. He's just being here with me - God with me.

This Christmas I am not alone in my ugly - and neither are you - because Jesus came.

That's what I wanted to say.

If you're broken this Christmas, I'm sorry for your pain. I'm sorry for your discouragement and your shame and I'm sorry that people tend to misunderstand and judge brokenness. I'm sorry that you're hurting, but it's never, ever hopeless.

At Christmas . . .
                           Because of Jesus . . .
                                                             There is more Hope than ever.

Because of Jesus . . . God is always with us.

For All You Tired Moms Out There - 1

10/15/2014

Being a mom is exhausting. It's fabulous, inspiring, fulfilling, exciting, a rich privilege, a high calling . . . and unbelievably exhausting. Mother Fatigue has many faces. From the internal drain of carrying another human being around inside of you for the better part of a year, to the round the clock milk wagon responsibility (I meant privilege, ahem) for yet another year. That can be literally 2 years of serving as a living, breathing, bathroom-cleaning, laundry-folding life support system for another person! I'm tired just thinking about it. Yeah, been there, done that FOUR times.

Then there's flu season. Some of you remember a post I wrote recently about our family having the flu 9 times in two weeks with a weekend hospital stay tucked in there for good measure. That was . . . how shall I say it? EXHAUSTING!!

Of course there's also the less dramatic, but even more draining reality of living day in and day out with little people in your midst. The spilled apple juice on FINALLY just-cleaned floors; potty training; soccer games; dentist appointments; "Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!"; potty training; sibling . . . hmmm, let's call it, interactions; car seats to buckle; phonics; grocery shopping at 8 months pregnant with 3 kids, 6 and under in tow; and, however it can be possible - more potty training!

(Every mother knows I left 729 additional stressors off of that fairly impressive list!)

So here's the thing I've learned, girls. For as much care as we mamas pour out every day, day after day and many nights as well . . . We need care too.

I think it was Abraham Lincoln who gave us a quote about "sharpening the axe". (Forgive the loose reference - I've been potty training for the past 11 years!!) Anyway, the point is that a tool only works if you take care of it. An axe needs sharpening if you are going to expect it to cut well. A car needs a periodic oil change and fluid flush (or something . . .) if it is to run well. And Mothers need care if we are to pour out well.

OK, so I know we're there now so I'm just going to acknowledge the elephant in the room: "But I feel so guilty when I take care of myself!"

Mother Guilt. It is one of the devil's favorite ways to cripple God's anointed shepherds in their very own homes! If you feel guilty for taking care of yourself I'm going to say one very gentle, very important thing to you. Are you ready?

Stop it.

I'm not saying that "stopping it" will be easy, like a switch you just flip, but will you just entertain for a moment the idea that Mother Guilt is a burden you ought not to bear? I won't do a big, fleshed out thing right here and now about how conviction comes from God and guilt comes from the enemy, but here's the thing: motivating, liberating conviction comes from God. That depressing, paralyzing, defeating, miserable wet blanket guilt we mamas tend to carry around - yeah, that comes straight from the pit of hell. Resist it. Refuse it! Shrug it off and run the other direction into the loving, grace-filled arms of Jesus. I intend to show you how . . .

Isaiah 40:11 says, "He tends his flock like a shepherd. He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young."

Jesus takes care of His people like a shepherd cares for his sheep. That means he is here to protect and provide for all of us in every way. This verse, however, speaks specifically to mothers with young children. Here, you and I are "those that have young". A shepherd knows that mother ewes need to be lead gently because they are tending to their young. Their lambs move more slowly on weak, spindly legs and they have to stop frequently to nurse. The shepherd doesn't rush or drive them; he is gentle. I love the part that says "he gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart". As mothers don't we pull our babies close to us and press them to our heart?  Jesus is not only gentle, but he is loving and tender with the lambs. The ewe's lambs are the Shepherd's lambs!  My babies are His babies and He is far more capable than I am of caring for them well.

This takes so much pressure off of me to be the perfect mom. Newsflash, girls, I'm not a perfect mom. You're not a perfect mom either and that's OK! It's OK and it's the only reality there is ever going to be! There is no such thing as a perfect mom but we do have a perfect shepherd who is intent both on giving our lambs everything they need, and protecting them from everything they can't handle.

He is also intent on taking care of you, Mama. He is gentle and kind and He wants to tend to you; care for you; protect and provide for you.

In the coming posts I would like to share with you some of the redeeming things God has taught me during my years of having young children. Some are practical coping strategies while others address the very real "head game" of mothering, but my central goal is to encourage you with this: There really is hope! There's hope that you won't always be exhausted and there's hope that you can let go of the mother guilt. There's hope for rest (both body and soul), and there's hope that your children will grow up to be amazing - even though you're not perfect.

There's hope! Even for tired moms.

The Only Courage You'll Ever Need

9/5/2014

Yesterday I saw a friend I haven't seen in a long time. We met at a Starbucks so I could give her a hug and so she could bring me up to date on a nightmare she is going through. I mean a Night. Mare.

As I sat down with my mocha, I saw a quote on the sleeve of my cup. "The only courage you ever need is the courage to live the life you want". Oprah Winfrey

Hmmmmm . . . Chad and I discussed this and as it turns out, we disagree with Oprah on this one. We decided that more often than not, "The only courage you need is the courage to live the life you have".

I'm not saying that it's wrong to make a change, but I do believe it's wrong to view what I want out of life as the superior virtue. I am learning, in fact, that at the end of the day, "what I want" may be entirely irrelevant.

I submit to the God who spoke the universe into existence. I worship the Eternal King of Kings who became flesh and dwelled among us. I serve the Savior who bared His back to the cruel Roman cat of nine tails and offered His hands and feet to be pierced for my transgressions. I bow before the Lord who crushed the power of death by emerging from His own grave ALIVE and now can offer me this abundant, eternal life as a free gift. I'm not seeing where my personal preferences play into any of this at all.

My dear suffering friend has personal preferences and I do too, but I also read in my Bible that some of my preferences are out of line. God, who designed everything and everyone, has an order to His creation; a way that things work best. It is tempting sometimes to think that because this or that doesn't feel good or seems really inconvenient, or is straight up painful, somehow this "thing" is bad for me. It's not working. It's not what I want!! But sometimes God's best hurts. Sometimes God's best really hurts.

The first example that comes to my mind is from my own life. Eleven years ago Chad and I had an 18 month-old and we had decided to add another Treasure to our family. I got pregnant on my birthday and fell in love with that baby the minute I knew he was coming. Everything went well . . . right up until it stopped going well. I started bleeding; there was no heartbeat; our much-loved, much-wanted baby was dead in my womb. Tears were shed; decisions had to be made; and I prayed. Oh how I prayed. "Lord, I know it is you who make every person's heart beat. Please, oh please, Jesus, make this baby's heart beat!"

But Jesus didn't do that.

We waited, we checked for a heartbeat, we executed plan A, and then finally we resorted to surgery. I awoke lying in a pool of blood hearing a voice I recognized as my own sobbing the anguish I felt all the way down deep into my bones: "But I WANTED this baby!!" I cried and cried and bled and cried. This was not what I wanted.

I thought I had been trusting the Lord, even in the midst of this terrible pain, but it soon became clear that I didn't really even know what it meant to do that. I played the role of a trusting Christian, but deep inside my heart a black anger was taking root. I was angry at God for letting my baby die when He could have made him live, and I was angry at Him for other things in my life that were painfully difficult during that same time. That was the dark night of my soul.

My grief and anger drove me into a deep depression that the hormone shock of a miscarriage supported miserably. It was a perfect storm. For the better part of a year I had to force myself to get out of bed and after awhile, I had to force myself to stay alive. Every day I wanted to kill myself more and more, but thankfully the Lord had already given us Micah. Even though I wanted desperately to escape my agony, I knew I could simply never abandon my son like that.

So day after day I stayed alive - if that can be called living; that numb, plodding, just breathing in and out on instinct alone. Day after day things got worse. We tried to have another baby and every month when it became clear that I wasn't pregnant, I took a deeper plunge into darkness. Would it be surprising to hear that I hated God? I never stopped believing in Him; I knew He was there, I just thought He hated me too. I never questioned His power or ability but I knew distinctly that He cared nothing for me; maybe worse! Maybe He was making my life painful on purpose. Maybe I deserved it.  And deeper into darkness I would plummet . . .

I began to view my existence as a pit. A deep pit . . . one so deep that no light made it all the way to the bottom where I was trapped.  All around the pit was barren desert for miles. I was completely and utterly alone. Occasionally someone who did not understand me at all would appear at the mouth of the pit and shout something down to me that sounded trite - or straight up hateful.  The darkness of that pit fed the lies until they swelled and threatened to crush me, yet it snuffed out and swallowed up truth whenever it came. How can I possibly describe the darkness of that time? The dreadful heaviness? Depression is like carrying around a wet king-sized quilt wrapped around your eyes and anchored to your heart.

It is very clear to me now that I was in dire need of professional help - both chemical and psychological - but even though I did not get it, God carried me through that time. In fact, I believe unequivocally that it was the agony of that experience that prepared me for coping with Daniel's cancer like nothing else could possibly have prepared me. Nothing short of the death of a child could have taught me what I needed to know about God: He is God and I am not - and that is a GOOD thing!! He can always be trusted because He will only, ever, always do what is best for me! I am always safe in His arms regardless of the storm that is raging around me. He can handle the storm.

In the face of the possibility of losing another child, all of this was critical truth to have on board. I absolutely had to have these sturdy strands tightly woven into the fabric of my faith before the Leukemia clouds darkened the sky again. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if I hadn't suffered so deeply from my miscarriage, cancer would have crushed me utterly. But I did! So I didn't. God is so incredibly good.

So, Oprah, do I think "The only courage you ever need is to live the life you want"? I do not. As it turns out, sometimes the life I want isn't even available!

I mean, I guess it takes courage of some kind to declare bankruptcy but it takes even more courage to make arrangements, work hard, go without, and pay your bills.

I guess it takes courage of some kind to say to your spouse, "I'm unhappy and I'm leaving," but it takes even more courage to stick around and figure things out; not just for your kids, but because all those years ago you said you would.

I guess it takes some kind of courage to quit your job and find a new one, but it takes even more courage to reconcile with a difficult colleague, submit to an unfair boss, and show the love of Jesus no matter what.

At the end of the day, what do you already know you need to do?  What new thing is the Lord asking you to do? What old thing is He asking you to keep on doing?

Ask Him for the courage to do those things,

                                                      and that, my friend,

                                                                        is all the courage you will ever need.

The Antidote for "I Can't Take Any More"

8/21/2014

OK, so I'm just going to tell you . . . some days I feel like I simply can't take any more.  I can't take any more pain, any more uncertainty, any more hurt feelings.  I can't take any more elephants sitting on my chest making it impossible to breathe and I cannot take any more impossible relational equations. Some days my heart is numbed to gray so that I have to put my hand on my chest to know if I'm still alive.

Yep.

I am still alive.

The Lord has been breathing His very own Life into me during these shadowed days and I have found it is enough. I still feel heavy. And sad. And gray. But in the midst of thick clouds, the Son has been my Light and it is enough. His Word has been "the richest of fare" even when I have had no appetite, and Jesus is my Rock as I scramble for purchase on the side of this steep muddy hill. Praise God . . .

                                                                   He is enough.

Deuteronomy 33:12 says, "About Benjamin he said: 'Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.'"

Benjamin was a name that we considered for every single one of our four sons. It means "son of my right hand" in Hebrew and can also be rendered "favored son".

I love this passage of Scripture because when I read it, I am Benjamin. The rest is nothing short of medicinal: "Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders."

The Lord brought me back to this passage again today as I was aching over some "can't take any mores" and when I spotted something new, it occurred to me to share it with you here:

". . . all day long."

It has always been a comforting passage but this angle really brought it to life for me as I considered how I mother my sons. Daniel especially needs a lot of snuggles still as he fights the dragon Leukemia, but all of our boys used to love sitting with me in the rocking chair. We would snuggle up close sharing a blanket and I would rock them and sing. We were warm and comfortable but mostly together, and the only thing that ever ruined that was when I would have to get up.

I would have work to do or it would get late or my legs would be falling asleep. Sometimes I succumbed to the sweet little, "Longer, Mama!" but ultimately I would have to put the boy down and move on to something else.

This is not the case when Jesus holds me. He never has to get up. And "between his shoulders". You know where that is, don't you? It's right where Daniel goes every time he climbs into my lap. He cuddles up into a tight ball in my arms with his head right under my chin - against my heart. A mother instinctively draws her child to that very place when she holds him because he IS her heart. This is how Jesus holds His beloved too.  He longs to hold me tightly in His arms with my head between his shoulders, against his heart and He shields me there all day long. There is nowhere else He has to go and nothing He would rather do than hold me close in my desperate need.

Daniel has really been struggling with his attitude lately. He gets frustrated easily - especially with his brothers - and once he's has passed a certain level of aggravation, he has a terrible time coming around. Sometimes he "can't take any more" either. There's a point at which I can hear in his voice that the only thing that's going to meet the need is a few minutes wrapped up in my arms being soothed and assured and reminded of some things. I look him in the eye and I say, "Daniel, come here, Honey". He knows then that he's not just going to be held accountable for his behavior, but also comforted and empowered to change it.

I draw him close to my heart and stroke his hair (which I still don't take for granted). I tell him I love him and for a few minutes we don't talk about "the thing". I just shield him from challenges and irritations and I remind him how precious he is to me. Then I acknowledge what upset him in the first place and we talk. I try to bring both understanding and perspective - and sometimes he lets me. Sometimes he argues with me and then more snuggles and some listening are required to soften his indignant heart. Almost always Daniel and I can ultimately end up in a place of humility; where he can hear truth and wisdom and acknowledge where he went wrong.

The other day we had some time together like this and my sweet son was stricken by the ongoing difficulty of doing the right thing in hard situations. With the saddest, most precious face you can imagine, my six-year-old lamented, "Mama, sometimes I just don't feel like a righteous man!" Oh my boy . . . Oh my dear, sweet son, oh how I know.

That's when I tell him that we can't do it. On our own he can't be righteous and neither can I, no matter how badly we want to; no matter how much we recognize the need; no matter how clearly we see that things would be sooooo much easier . . . The only way we can do what is right is if Jesus helps us. And that's when we bow our heads and talk to Him together.

This is the picture I see in my heart when I read Deuteronomy 33:12 because I've been struggling with my attitude lately too. Yet despite my failings and all the difficulty I have on some days just putting one foot in front of the other . . . I can "rest secure in Jesus, for He shields me all day long as I rest between his shoulders". Oh. How. I Need. This.

I have found that this is the only antidote for a bad case of "I can't take any more". Some snuggles. Some assurance. Some perspective. And the reminder, that even though I can't do it without Him, it's OK . . .

He'll be there all day long.

(Hurricane image courtesy of Evgeni Dinev @ FreeDigitalPhotos.com)

Too. Much.

6/25/2014

OK, so I've been working on a post for over a week now but it's just not coming along very well. I realized that for as much as I love to write and share and encourage, and, well, OK - talk . . . this week, I just aint got it.

God is good and I'm tapped into Him. His Word is speaking to my heart and I'm impacted by it. But life?? Ah, life. I told Shelly the other day that life these days is like trying to organize the pantry shelves while I'm in the washing machine on the spin cycle. Ummmm . . . yeah.  I actually really like organizing - but right now? Even if I could reach things, I'm really not sure which way is up! Plus I'm all wet, and I'm not feeling very well either . . . Yep, it's exactly like that.

Sooooo . . . I will save the story I'm working on for another time, and today? Today I'm telling you this: things at my house are uber-tricky right now. Some of the challenges are nothing new - homeschooling, 4 boys, Leukemia, medical school, etc. Oy! But there are other things too. Things I am not at liberty to share freely about here; persistent, ongoing things that have been weighing down my heart in ways I never knew it could be weighed down. There's also heartbreaking, head-spinning news from, not just one friend, but now from two?! Things are simply not always what they seem and people I love are being crushed. I feel wary, sad, and somewhat undone by this reality as it continues to exert itself around me. I feel shaken; weak.  And oh so weary. I lay next to my husband last night and just wept because I couldn't help it. It's too much, Lord! I can't take it!

It's. Too. Much.

We are continuing with a mild school schedule through the summer, largely because for the first time - ever - I feel up to it. Ironic given the above, I know. When asked I say it's because it's so hot out we might as well be productive while we're inside, but I realize too that it gives some graspable structure, not only to my banshee boys, but also to their mother (who does not care for the spin cycle at all!!). We start each day with prayer, Bible reading, devotional study, and "Grateful Books" (thank you, Ann Voskamp!). I was not ready to surrender this magical time with my growing Oaks of Righteousness just because it's summer!!

Today we asked the question, "Does God have a purpose for the wicked man?" It turned out to be pretty heady stuff! All my black and white thinkers jumped right in there: "No way!!" but a couple of us weren't so sure. Proverbs 16:4 tells us. "The Lord works out everything for his own ends - even the wicked for a day of disaster." As we unpacked this a little bit, we talked about the miracle of Joseph being sold into slavery and then rising to power in Egypt to save countless lives - including those of his brothers who had hated him and sought to do him great harm. We also looked at Romans 8:28 where we receive the assurance that ". . . in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." All. Things. There's good fodder for this discussion at my house. Cancer. Difficulties of medical school. Lots of other yucky stuff. Did God want Daniel to get cancer? No. Can He bring good from it? Absolutely! Should we trust Him to work out His plan even when we simply can't understand it? Yes, we should. I sure was preaching that sermon to myself today! I told the boys how it was for me when they were babies in need of vaccinations. Did I want them to get poked with those big mean needles so they would hurt and cry and get a fever later? Of course not! Did I know that it's better to get a poke today rather than Polio tomorrow? Oh yes. They didn't understand the need for shots, but I did, so because I love them I allowed it. I even drove them there and held them down during the worst part! Then I held them and loved them and administered Tylenol. That is SO how God deals with me.

There are some seriously BIG waves breaking over our little bow these days, but my God is the God who can say to the waves, "Peace! Be still." He is also the God who says to me, "'Be still and know that I am God.' Do not be afraid, 'though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.' We have had more than a few mountains fall into the heart of the sea at our house, but even so, there is never any reason to fear! Somehow I keep forgetting that.

I was touched by Nathan's very serious question during our conversation: "Wait, Mama. Does God work all things for His good or for our good?" I'm so grateful that God's answer to this question is . . . Yes!! I really do want to be about His Kingdom business and most of the time the thing I want most is for God to be glorified. Still, I have those temper tantrum days when I just want it to be about ME for a minute! Or a year would be fine. It is then that God reminds me, "I haven't forgotten about you!  This will only hurt for a little while but it is so important. Will you trust me? I love you and I'll be right here with you the whole time."

In serving this amazing God, I am regularly reminded that it only feels like "too much". In reality, it's just what the Doctor ordered - and He can be trusted.

Even when it feels like the spin cycle.

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