Still Waiting

I'm 40 years old and still waiting.
Waiting for my children to apprehend all I am trying to teach them, all the ways I have laid out before them how it is to live a godly life, full of meaning, purpose and joy.

I'm 40 years old and still waiting.
Waiting for my time to come, my time to shine in the fullness of what I believe God has put so clearly and passionately on my heart to do.

I'm 40 years old and still waiting.
Waiting for a complete healing of chronic health issues for which I have tried many remedies and interventions, all of which have brought some relief, some comfort but not full healing.

I'm 40 years old and still waiting.
Waiting for prayers I have prayed for many years to be answered.
Waiting for dreams I have dreamed for many years to see their fulfillment.
Waiting. Sometimes I don't even know all I am waiting for; I just know I'm still waiting.

In her book, "Still Waiting," Ann Swindell talks a lot about waiting, and shares a message of hope for all of us who are in the waiting room of life.
And, frankly, I don't know anyone who isn't waiting for something.

Ann beautifully weaves her personal story of waiting with the biblical account of the Bleeding Woman (Matthew 9:20-22), both women knowing the ache of waiting on God for healing.

What I appreciate most about Ann's book is that she did not wait to write it until she experienced full healing, until her wait came to an end.  No. You see, Ann is still waiting.  And, there is something so incredibly God-glorifying, hope-giving, and satisfying to my own heart to read words of hope and to be pointed rightly to the Source and Giver of both hope and healing from one who is still waiting herself.

This lends such credibility to the strong, sure message Ann conveys in "Still Waiting."

In her book's chapters, Ann breaks down the effects waiting has on one's soul, mind, body, and relationships with others and with God. She discusses how waiting makes one weak, broken, is costly, claims one's identity, feels offensive, brings shame, feels like suffering, and is risky.  She concludes her book with a chapter entitled, "Hope for the Waiting Ones," but Ann does an effective job at sprinkling hope ALL throughout the book.  You don't have to wait until the end for a strong dose of hope.

If you are waiting for anything or anyone and want to wait with hope, I strongly urge you to get your hands on Ann Swindell's, "Still Waiting."

*I wrote this endorsement to help spread the word about Ann's book, not solely or even primarily because I was chosen to be a part of her book launch team, but because I have been encouraged deeply by her words, believe strongly in the message of hope about which she writes, and appreciate greatly the skillful, artful way in which she presents that message. I did receive a copy of "Still Waiting" at no charge in order to read it before its official launch.

Unlikely Candidate Talk

Teaching on I Corinthians 13

Ebola, Our Worst Fear?

Ebola comes near
And strikes fear
Into our hearts
Causing us to wonder
How much closer
Will it come

Will it infect ones I know?
Will it infect ones I love?
Will it infect me?

Teach us to number our days
Is a prayer we pray
Ebola has a way
Of doing just that.

Why do we fear
When our end could be near?
Could be on the next plane
From Africa to here?

Why do we fear
When our days our numbered
And we know that to be so
But the threat of it shakes us?

It's not theory any longer
Now that Ebola is no further
Than Texas!

People we know will die
Loved ones will die
I will die.

But we will all arise
Into one of two eternities:

An eternity where no Ebola remains
A forever after where peace and health
And best of all, Jesus reigns.

No more threats of death
Just living in the promise of life
No more heartache or loss
Because Jesus paid the cost
Of it all---all our sin
                 all our shortcoming
                 all our sorrow

He became a man acquainted with grief
Took our shame and hung on a tree
Nailed it there and in return set us free.

Free from threats
Free from death
Free from ourselves
And all dark tomorrows

But there's another eternal place
From which Jesus hides His face

All threats are thrown here
And made a reality to bear
For those dying in their denial
Of Jesus, the God-man

Their refusal to bow, refusal to praise
The One who gave them all of their days
The One who whispers and shouts
"I am real. I came to love you!"
But this and Him they doubt.

And so Ebola-though a threat and a curse
Only to death can it make one hurt.

After death, there is life
Heaven for those who believe Jesus died
Hell for those who refuse Him.

If you love Jesus and trust His blood spilled
You have NO NEED TO FEAR, only reason to HOPE!

But, if you are one refusing to bow,
Refusing to surrender
PLEASE listen and know:
Ebola is not your worst fear
But it may lead to it,
That of facing your Creator
Not covered by Jesus' blood.

There is still time,
Still reason to run
To the One who loves you
Enough to give up His Son.

Confess today and forevermore
Jesus reigns over all
Jesus is Lord

He came to save
Not to condemn
Embrace His love
Embrace Him!

Spring Will Come

                                     

I started writing this post weeks ago and began thinking about it weeks before that.   Tonight seemed like THE night to finish and publish it given this freakish snow fall on APRIL 15!

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The calendar says it's spring, but the weather forecasts say winter has forgotten to take a hike.  Just days after we celebrated the arrival of spring, white stuff, aka 'snow' (the new four letter word) fell once again from the sky.  Even my 9 year old son complained that he was sick of snow.  You know it's been a long winter when a nine year old boy moans at the threat of more snow rather than falling to his knees to plead the gates of Heaven for it to be true.

Upon losing track of which number snow fall for the winter we were experiencing or anticipating, I adopted a mantra to help keep me from complaining. That mantra was, "Spring will come."  I figured it has come every year; it will come again. Renewal, rejuvination, rebirth. It will all come. And, when we pulled out our spring basket on March 22 and filled it with seeds to plant, bubbles to blow and eggs to dye, I replaced the mantra of "Spring will come" with "Spring has sprung."

But, I looked outside today and spring most definitely has not sprung. Aside from rain saturating the earth, there are few signs of spring's arrival.  I still have to grab a coat when I go outside.  A few buds are peeking through the ground, but not many, and I wonder if the ones brave enough to rear their buds will survive.  Temperatures have dipped below freezing multiple nights since spring "arrived." (***And, now, on April 15th, after many more buds have erupted and many vegetables have been planted, it snows and is below freezing after experiencing glorious temperatures in the seventees just days ago.)

We long for spring, and we have caught glimpses of it. Tomorrow morning many of the glimpses may have frozen to death overnight but that is not entirely the point. Sorry to be a downer here.  I promise this post will end on a good note. 

Yes, we long for spring while we endure winter.

Spring has come but it hasn't, not the spring our hearts truly long for. 

The winter of this fallen earth remains even as I take in the beauty of blooming buds outside. 

Our friend, Jonathan, who is just in his thirties, lingers in the hospital for months now trying to recover from his THIRD kidney transplant.  

Another friend sends a sad text letting me know she has lost the baby she prayed many years for and had a privileged 7 weeks to carry in her womb.  

Then there is the woman from Utah who was arrested for murdering and covering up the remains of six of her own babies which is not only hideous but deeply hurtful in light of the loss my friend is still mourning. 

Positive thinking only gets us so far and it just does not erase these realities.  

Nirvana is nowhere to be found in hospital rooms or jail cells.

And, I have thought, "OH, Jesus, how I LONG for spring....not just the spring that brings daffodils and daisies but the spring that brings YOU again, the spring that ushers in the new earth and new heaven, new bodies for those who are in Christ, the new Kingdom of His righteous reign."

But, "spring" will come. It will. There is something, rather someONE who will take us farther than self affirmations.  There is someONE who exceeds the state of nirvana, who will take all the wrongs of this world and one day make it right, who will call all evil to account, who will fully and finally shackle all that shackles us, who will burst on the scene will more brilliance than any row of azaleas ever could display.

His name is Jesus.

And, he came to earth once. We celebrate His first coming at Christmas.

This week, we not only remember His dying but also rejoice at His resurrection because it assures us that death has been conquered, eternal life in Heaven with Him is possible, spring will come again.

What is in my heart and what I have tried to communicate in this post is perhaps more succintly and poetically expressed in the lines taken from one of our family's favorite series, "The Chronicles of Narnia", 

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

We WILL have spring again. 

Thoughts About Marriage on our 12th Anniversary

Wedded bliss?  I have never known it. Those rose colored glasses that many couples wear while they date, are engaged and slowly remove that first year of marriage?  Lawrence and I never bought them, never wore them and hence never had to remove them.

But here we are celebrating 12 years of married life together. High fives, smiles, a hug and some passionate kisses were shared between the two of us along with a scrumptious dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, Bonefish Grille.

To most who know us and anyone who follows me on facebook, it is not a secret that Lawrence and I have what we feel is a hard marriage. Truly, I realize that there are marriages that are SO much harder than ours. What defines a hard marriage anyway? I suppose every marriage is hard in its own way.

So, let me take just a sentence or two to define what is hard about OUR marriage.  In a nutshell, Lawrence and I are the two most opinionated, proud, stubborn people on the planet. A close friend of ours recently said that we are two control freaks battling it out for control all day, everyday.  We care about too much. We are passionate about too much, and we are skilled debators. Everything can become fodder for a fight between the two of us.  From parenting decisions to home improvement choices to how we spend a Saturday, we can somehow find a way not only to argue about it but to make a case as to why it is so very crucial that we argue about it. I am telling you; it is exhausting.

But, we have scratched and clawed our way to celebrating 12 years together. We have confessed sin to one another, asked for forgiveness, and granted forgiveness more times than we can count. We have invited countless friends and mentors and, in the last several months, a professional marriage counselor into the nitty gritty details of our marriage by way of soliciting their counsel and prayers.

We read books on marriage, make date night happen regularly, and "always kiss each other goodnight" (sometimes at 2 or 3 in the morning because the fight lasted that long).  We have pet names, nothing overly exotic or gross, but pet names nonetheless.  We call each other during the day almost every day. We communicate a lot. about a lot. We still hold hands when out in public. My husband opens the car door for me and pumps gas for me as much as he has the opportunity to. But, let me tell you, all these things really are just motions and can be playacting for us and any married couple if there aren't a few things in place.

I am CLEARLY not in a position to give marriage advice, or maybe I am.  Maybe because married life (and even our dating life for that matter) has not been a walk in the park and the most blissful, emotionally buoying experience, I do have a few things I can say work well in propelling a marriage in the right direction.

12 (12 sounds so right to go with the 12 years we have been married, but I just do not know that much, so it is only four things) 4 things I have learned from 12 years in a hard marriage:

1. Commitment is what will carry you to 2 years, 12 years, 22 or 52 years. There is no way around this. When we take vows to love "in sickness and health and in good times or bad", we really have NO way of knowing how that resolve is going to be tested.  And a part from infidelity or abuse, there is a whole heck of a lot one or both of you may be required to endure for the sake of the vow you made.

Which leads me to the 2nd thing...

2. GRACE.  Grace as I best understand it is giving to someone that which he does not deserve. This can be tangible or intangible. I have long, too long, like until just a couple months ago long....treated Lawrence based on his performance or lack thereof. I have standards in my mind, sometimes that I am not even aware of until they're not met, and when he does not meet those standards, I basically punish him in some way.  Wow...this just does not lead to anything good for anyone.

I think I am only recently realizing that true love for Lawrence (and anyone for that matter) must and can only truly come from a heart that is not demanding anything in return, a heart that is willing to overlook offense, a heart that is so full of GOD's unconditional love and acceptance of her that she can draw upon that to give to her husband.  There is so much more that could be said about this, but I'll move onto #3.

3. Be real with the people around you about the hard realities of your marriage. By this I do not mean to complain about your spouse every opportunity you get to hang out with the guys or girls. And, I have had to ask for forgiveness from friends on more than one occasion for doing so myself.  By this I mean, be transparent with others about the temptations you face in extending love, grace, trust, perseverance, hope to your spouse for the purpose of receiving encouragement, counsel, and prayer. As much as Lawrence and I continue to duke it out with each other, I do not know that we would even be married today a part from the community of friends, family and mentors who have cheered us on, prayed for us, cried with us, and kicked us in the proverbial pants when we needed it.

4. Figure out what marriage is really all about.  Marriage, the covenantal union of a man and a woman, is to be a reflection of Christ and His Church.  As was so well articulated by my pastor just this morning, "God does not grade a marriage on how satisfied the partners are or how long they stick it out.  He grades a marriage on how well it reflects Christ and His church," which has everything to do with the Gospel.  The good news of Jesus is that He, the perfect Son of God, took the punishment from God the Father that WE deserved upon Himself by dying on a cross.  He died, was buried and rose again, conquering death and sin.

He offers us the choice to be reconciled to God, our Creator, by recognizing we do not live up to His standards of righteousness. We offend our Creator by not acknowledging Him or our need for Him. But, He offers us forgiveness and restoration of our relationship with Him by the confession of our need and His sufficiency.  He offers us eternal life with Him rather than eternal death and separation from God by believing in His Son, Jesus.

And in marriage, in MY marriage I get to reflect Jesus' love and grace to me by extending love and grace to Lawrence over and over again. For another 12 years and 12 years after that, and 12 years after that we both hope and pray.

All Is Well

http://sovereigngracemusic.org/Songs/All_Is_Well/33

This song has been on repeat tonight.
After two weeks of a slower pace due to snow and sickness, real life smacked me in the face this morning and continued to do so all day long.

School started on time for me and my gang.
But, soon after lunch, it was fast and furious, scurrying to meet pre-planned obligations all while trying to manage details of upcoming calendar items by way of phone calls and lesson planning.

By 3 this afternoon, I was running behind.
Hurry and trying to do two or more things at a time leaves the door wide open for disaster or at very least, mishap.

Well, that mishap came today, a mishap that very well could have ended in disaster. 

After my chiropractor appointment, I made my way down to Hopkins in Baltimore to drop some things off to a friend who has been staying with her son, recovering from his third kidney transplant, for more than a month now.  Timing worked such that I made plans to meet my hubby in the city for dinner, kids in tow, so nothing more extravagant than Panera to which we had a gift card. Awesome!

While attempting a merge from one highway to another, I smashed into the car in front of me who suddenly braked at an oncoming car neither one of us saw soon enough. She braked suddenly; I braked suddenly. We screeched to a halt, but not before I hit the tail end of her BMW.  **Why must I always hit expensive cars?  Yet another reason to live and STAY in the country where everyone drives beat up pick up trucks. :)**

Kids started crying. One of them asked if he was dead. All of them told my husband later that they thought they were on their way to Heaven.  Dramatic much?

Though both our vehicles appeared to handle the impact better than my children, no obvious dents, my neck is hurting tonight and temptation is near to be fearful and worried that the other woman will be hurt as well, whiplash or something else, that she'll find some dings or scratches (least of my worries), put a claim in with our insurance, and our insurance will have to drop us as this is the 2nd fender bender (or whole door cruncher-inner) accident claim within a matter of months for me.

But then there is also the news of a previous pastor of mine and friends' father/grandfather's recent death that is weighing on my heart tonight.  JJ Altrogge was 95 and lived a long, story-filled life.  He loved to tell stories, and he did with detail and flare.  He loved to paint and he did with skill and delight. He loved to bless, and he did with hand painted birthday cards and smiles.  I was blessed by this man, by the way he loved The Lord, loved God's people, loved his wife and used his talents to bless so many people. 95 years! A long life, but still cut too short. Death is never natural, no matter how old one is.

So, I listen to the lyrics over and over again tonight,

The sun beams on behind the clouds 
And in the dark still grace abounds 
All is well because of God’s great love 

The road of disappointment runs 
Where unseen mercies wait for us 
And all is well because of God’s great love 

He feels our weakness, knows our need 
And for our good He intercedes 
All is well because of God’s great love 
Through every failure, every fear The Lord of comfort draws us near And all is well because of God’s great love 

All is well with me, not because I made it home tonight without a scratch and not because there is a possibility we may not be dropped by our insurance, but because of God's great love. 

All is well with Mark, JJ's son, not because his heart isn't breaking at the loss of his dad and friend, not because JJ lived a long life and death was a mercy at the end due to the pain and discomfort he was experiencing, but because of God's great love. 

God's great love. 
Here's the thing about it.
He reserves this great love for His children. 
And, while all mankind are God's creation, they are not all His children. For much of His creation, all is NOT well. 
It may seem well, though. 
You may have riches, security, the love and acceptance of another or many. You may have family, health and never really known great loss. You may have the accolades of co-workers and friends alike. But, still all may not be well.

If you do not know Jesus as your Savior, then you do not know God as your Father, and all is NOT well.  But, it can be. 

John 1:12 says, Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—

Believe in Jesus. Believe that He died on the cross for all the wrong things you have thought, felt or done. He died because He was the only one who could, because He was perfect. He did, felt and thought only things that pleased God, His Father.  He lovingly and sacrificially took the punishment that we deserved and instead offers us life here on earth and one day, forever in Heaven with Him.  Confess your wrongdoing. Turn away from it and turn instead to Jesus. 

He wants all to be well with us.

It may seem a trite plea, maybe one you have read or heard before. Most of those who read this blog, I think, are already children of God; all is well with them no matter their circumstances. 

But, because there may stand a chance that someone may read this who is not yet a child of God, I do make this plea with you. 
I was not guaranteed today. I am not guaranteed tomorrow. Neither are you. Is it well with you? 

His coming soon will fill the sky 
And all that’s wrong will be made right 
With newborn eyes we will behold 
The glory of the risen Lord 
All will be well because of God’s great love 

Where I meet Jesus and He meets me

Shallowed breathing. Cold sweats. Laying on the cold tile of my bathroom floor separated only by a bath towel that is now drenched with the toxic sweat, seaping out from my pores, virus trying to find its way out.

I don't know how long I laid there, limp, the life blood near drained from my body. Blood pressure must have been scarily low as I could barely lift a brow let alone arms or legs to carry me to my bed.

The dreaded stomach virus hit our home yesterday. And, by God's kind mercy, yes, I am writing about it just a day later. Amazing how one can go to hell and back in less than 24 hours.

In the midst of  hours, seemed days, of chills, aches, fever, diarrhea and dry heaving, I experienced some incredible joy and the nearness of God unmatched by more apparent calm, comfortable and coherent moments in my life.

While lying on that cold tile, sweating profusely, unable to move, I heard in my head the words Ann Voskamp prayed at the IF Conference, referring to Queen Esther and the "Esther generation" of today's Christian women who will stand up and live unashamedly and fearlessly for Jesus, "If I perish, I perish."

And, I thought, "If I perish, if this is how I'm going down, I'm going down giving thanks."  The words to a well known worship song came to mind, "As long as I have breath (even shallowed), I will praise you; As long as my heart beats (even rapidly), I will sing.  As long as life flows through my veins (even with virus mixed in with it), I will bless your name."

At some point, I found my way back to bed. By this time, my daughter was beside me having had experienced her own "to hell and back" vomiting that my husband so heroically walked her through and cleaned her up from.

Freezing but sizzling to the touch, achy and restless, I wondered if fever had set in. It had. As I waited it out, again I experienced the incredible nearness of God. So comforted by His presence, reminded of the truths that the darkness cannot dampen His light (Psalm 139:12), He will never leave me or forsake me (Hebrews 13:5), that wherever I go, He will be there (Psalm 139:7).

My thankful heart was buoyed, too, by remembrances of my dad, in the last days of his life battling cancer, walking the hallways of the hospital with bible and IV pole to tell anyone and everyone who would give him the time of day (and probably some who wouldn't) about Jesus, His Savior and friend; of Carol Turek who laid in bed for more than a decade, staving away bed sores by the massage mat under her and compassionate caregivers who would stretch her limbs, neck and head, praying through her prayer list diligently because this was her living sacrifice, her spiritual act of worship (Romans 12:2); of Jonathan Talley, whose keyboard has sat in our basement for a month now, unplayed because he had to return to Hopkins for complications due to his third kidney transplant but who is undeterred to do what it takes to live, to persevere in the life God has given him for the purpose of living for Christ.

And I gave thanks for these people, these lovers of Jesus who suffered or are suffering well for the glory and fame of Christ, fueled by His nearness and grace, who waited or are waiting still for complete healing but with every step proclaim the truth that healing will come. It has come.

Our healer is Jesus--not just of our physical bodies but of our souls, sin sick souls, who desperately need someone to take on human flesh and be perfect, unlike we can be, and then take the punishment from God, our Creator, that we deserve for turning our backs on Him.  And He did. He came. He was perfect. He took the wrath of God that we deserved when He died on that Roman cross.  More than an event in our history's timeline. This was LIFE come to a dying world.

Jesus meets me when I have NOTHING. Laying on a cold, tile, bathroom floor, He meets me. Resting feverish in my bed, He meets me.  And, I believe with all that is in me that he wants to meet you, too.  I don't know who reads this blog of mine aside from Danielle Jones who so kindly comments from time to time, but I am praying for anyone who does read this post.  Whether you know Jesus or not, I am praying He will meet you today.

"UN"condemned

One of my dearest friends, Laurie, who has a fabulous blog that you would do well to read, wrote a post in participation with some other bloggers who considered 2014 through the lens of what they want to give up or do away with.  They honed in on one thing and attached the prefix, "UN" to that thing that they want to rid from their lives.  It was their twist on the "one word" concept in which one chooses just one word to provide inspiration, direction or focus for the New Year. I did that. sort of. You can read about my "one word" here.

I enjoyed reading about Laurie's year of "uncomfortable" and thought I would chime in with what I want to be without this coming year. I want to be "UNcondemned".

Interestingly enough, searching through some files on my computer the other night while stuck sitting at the kids' Tae Chaun Do practice, I came upon an article I worked on but never did anything with entitled, "Conviction vs. Condemnation."  As I read over it, I thought, "I wrote this?"  It was decent. It was insightful and helpful.  And, I will post it tomorrow after I have had a few more minutes to proofread it.

Condemnation is something I am prone to, something of which I am praying for a greater measure of discernment and freedom.  I want 2014 to be the year of "UN"condemned for me first and foremost because Jesus paid the highest price one could pay, that of His life, so that I would know NO CONDEMNATION and second, because I believe the more I walk in the freedom Christ sacrificially bought for me, the more I will love and serve Him and genuinely love and serve others.

The "Heart"

Referencing the Paul Tripp marriage conference entitled, "What Did You Expect" that Lawrence and I had the privilege to attend a few weekends ago, Tripp draws our attention to a popular "game" we all play, especially with our spouse. I'm sure you've heard of it and play it yourself from time to time: the blame game. You know the rules of this game; I don't have to spell them out for you. Most likely, you started playing this game around the same time I did, as a toddler perhaps even before we could walk or talk.

In marriage, we play the blame game any time we become convinced that our marriage would be so much better if our spouse would change.  Tripp confronts this thought saying, "The 'blame game' is heresy--it never leads to a good marriage; it never leads to unity, understanding or love."

How often are we caught in that trap?  When we think that, we are believing a lie. My speech and/or behavior is NEVER caused by my husband. It can be a response to something he's done or said, but it comes from within my own heart. A person cannot say or do anything that wasn't birthed within the desires, motivations and inclinations of her own heart.

Our hearts are what Paul Tripp calls the "causal core of one's personhood", the steering wheel, if you want to think of it that way, determining what comes out of your mouth and what dictates your actions.

"My words and actions always tell me more about ME than they do about my spouse".

So what have my words and actions told me about ME this week?
It depends on the moment. But, many times I must say that my words and actions toward my family especially indicated that I love myself a lot more than I love them.
I have grown irritated and impatient with my children when they haven't obeyed me right away.
I have demonstrated anger toward my husband when he neglected to demonstrate thoughtfulness toward me in a way I expected him to.

I can gratefully say, however, that God has been right there with me in those moments, convicting me of my self-centeredness, pride and anger. By God's grace, confession and repentance came quickly in those moments when I took a harsh tone with my children or gave the "cold shoulder" to Lawrence.

Truthfully, I can grow quickly discouraged that I am still growing so easily angered with my children and husband. But, instead I want to see the grace there has been in these moments....not grace that removes temptation but rather causes me to confess sin when I've blown it and even sometimes not give into the temptation in the first place. Those are really sweet moments.  I experienced some of that this morning with my daughter.

She was having a really hard time focusing on school, staring out the window rather than attending to the work she had to do, fidgeting in her seat, with her hair and fingernails. I just wanted to get through the lessons and move on to helping the boys so that they could be finished with their school work before their Abuelo (grandfather) arrived to teach them Spanish. I had a long list of "to do" items clamoring for my attention. I did not appreciate her dragging her feet with her school work.

Impatience was "knocking at my door"; anger was welling up, and I wanted to be coercive and manipulative in that parenting moment to get her to pay attention and do her work. Here's one of those "little moments" that matter. By God's kindness, He captured my attention in the moment and allowed me to see the opportunity that lie before me to grow in godliness!

In my mind over and over again, I cried out to Jesus to help me demonstrate patience and long suffering to Bella, to persevere with her and encourage her rather than grow frustrated with her. He gave me empathy for her recalling times and circumstances when I've been asked to do something I don't want to do or have the energy to do. Most significant of all, He reminded me of how HE has treated me--with long suffering, patience, always being for me not against me, always wanting me to grow and thrive, never brow-beating me or manipulating me into obedience to Him.

I took many deep breaths, "breathing in" the Holy Spirit's power to do what is so far beyond me to do, rule over my emotions rather than allowing them to rule over me.  And, we got through the work. It wasn't fun; it wasn't easy, but God was there with us in that moment.

My heart is a storehouse of desires, motivations, will and emotions and so is yours. Out of those full hearts, we speak and act. What have your words and actions communicated about what's in your heart this week?

Made for Worship

The first principle Paul Tripp points out about marriage is that a "marriage of unity, understanding, and love is not rooted in romance, but in worship".

Worship?
Say what?

Consider this truth: All mankind was born for worship--not to BE worshiped, though don't we all think so at times, but TO worship another, namely our Creator.  If you need a little convincing, ponder your experience of  the most recent sporting event you watched or attended, an amazingly scrumptious meal or dessert you ate, or even a museum you walked through. It's likely either you or another were participating in inferior forms of worship...what the Merriam Webster dictionary would call the giving of "extravagant respect or admiration for or devotion to an object of esteem".

Worship is innate. It is something we were born to do. But, the object of our worship for which we were created is often replaced by lesser things.

Romans 1: 25 says, "They exchanged the truth of God for a lie and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator who is forever praised".

Daily, in some form, we make this exchange. We forget or deny that we were born to worship One and only One, and it's not ourselves.

What does this have to do with marriage?

There are many implications of this truth on marriage, but the one I'm going to focus on first is this: When we are not worshiping God, our Creator, giving our devotion and respect and ultimate admiration to God, we can assume that in some way we are worshiping ourselves. I am tempted a gazillion times a day to take God off the throne of my heart and put myself in His place, mindful only of what I want, what I need, what I feel. When that happens, there's bound to be marriage problems.

Here's one example of what it looks like for me...
My hubby comes home from work and I am tired from a full day of homeschooling, running errands, doing housework, breaking up sibling squabbles. I am not interested in serving another person. I've served all day. At that moment, I am really not thinking about anyone else's needs or desires or feelings other than my own. And, boy am I acutely aware of my own. I describe them in vivid detail almost every evening to my husband.

I want my husband to come in and take over, to know precisely the "line" I've required my children to tow all day and not lower the standard thereby undermining my authority. I want him to correct and train and encourage the children so I can emotionally and mentally "check out". If he'd help with the dinner dishes and picking up the house, that would just be a bonus.

So, when the kids don't respond to my call to come set the table or they complain about the meal I prepared and LA doesn't verbally jump all over them for it, if he's just a bit slower to respond than I normally am, I can absolutely lose it...on him and on the kids. I make the assumption that he was never going to address the children, he doesn't care or see the level of disrespect they have toward me. It goes further then to character judgments as well--he's checked out on us emotionally or is being lazy not wanting to address my children's hearts or behavior. He's apathetic toward my feelings.

All this happens within a snap.
Ever been there or somewhere similar?

And, you can imagine that what comes out of my mouth (because this girl has trouble keeping it shut!) is harsh, judgmental, accusatory and disrespectful (oh the irony). On the rare occasion I do manage to keep my mouth shut, the silence and slamming ensues. Slam cupboards and dishes all while pursing my precious lips tightly shut.

Believe it or not, I am worshiping in these moments. What I want, for my husband to engage with my children, is not a bad thing. It's a good thing; I should want that. When it takes the form of worship in my heart is when I am wanting it more than I am wanting God and His will for that moment in time. He wants me to grow in patience. Perhaps, He wants to help my children grow in hearing and responding to His Spirit convicting them in the quiet of their thoughts and heart versus being reprimanded immediately by their parent. He certainly doesn't want me to be bitterly spewing angry statements at my husband.

So, what do I do knowing my inclination to worship my desires, needs and wants?
Where do I go when the worship of myself has eclipsed the worship of God?

I'm grateful that God continues to stop me in moments like what I just described to convict me of my self worship. Sadly, I don't always bow to His conviction right away. Sometimes it takes me awhile. But, God's Spirit, thankfully, always wins and brings me to a godly sorrow over my sin. And, it is then that I can confess that sin, run to Jesus, the One who bore all the wrath of God that I deserved for all my moments of self worship.

And, God reminds me in I John 1:9 that when I confess my sin, HE is faithful and just to forgive me of that sin and cleanse me from all unrighteousness.

Then, I think upon God, upon HIS perfection, HIS wisdom, HIS righteousness, HIS beauty, goodness, grace and mercy and bow again to HIS will for this small moment in my life.

In "real life", I ask for forgiveness from Lawrence (and my children if they were witnesses of my behavior or speech) and think on things that are excellent and praiseworthy about those brief moments around the dinner table. I think about what God may have been seeking to accomplish in my life, in my children's lives and in my husband's life at that instant. And, I consider God's redemption of my wrongs. I ponder all the ways God could be making good on my bad, and it's at this moment that I'm typically undone....for at least 3 minutes before something else may tempt me toward self worship. ;)

It's moment by moment here in my world. The little moments DO matter.

Sibling Harmony= Parental Bliss

Scene 1:
"Who farted?" inquires son number 2 and then proceeds to inch near his siblings' bums to identify the culprit.  After experiencing what rightly was a violation of his privacy, son number 1 hauls off and punches son number 2 in the lip several times.

Screaming ensues. Peeved mom intervenes.

Scene 2:
Son number 1 informs his sister loudly, "THAT'S NOT YOURS! I GOT IT FOR CHRISTMAS. GIVE IT BACK NOW!!!" Sister pulls the lego closer to herself, turning slightly away from her irritated brother. "May I play with it for just a few minutes?" she respectfully pleads.
"You may play with it as long as I'm right here with you. But when I'm ready to go outside, you have to put it back in its place," consents son number 1 kindly.

After watching the play by play closely, mom resumes washing the dishes, joyful that her children fought to work it out on their own.

I trust that any parent reading this can smile and nod recognizing the two scenes I described. And, I would also bet that any parent would much prefer the latter scene over the first. Sibling harmony does indeed equate parental bliss.

This crossed my mind today around 11 a.m. when I realized my children had gone nearly all morning playing peaceably side by side, working together toward a common goal: building a super-duper, cool, train track.

Recently, the Lord quickened to my mind how, like me, HE delights when HIS kids live their lives peaceably side by side, working together toward a common goal, that of telling the world of His goodness and mercy toward sinners. He delights not just because our efforts toward accomplishing His purposes are much more effective, but because we, His children, are enjoying a part of the abundant life He died to give us!

Psalm 133:1 says, "Behold how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity."

But, living at peace with siblings is not always easy, is it? Both biological and spiritual siblings can really work on our nerves at times. We disagree. We don't always view life or circumstances from the same perspective. We offend and are offended. To live at peace with one another as God calls us requires concerted effort at times. It requires humility and most of all, it requires love.

I tell my children often regarding living with their siblings, "It's a fight either way...we're either fighting against one another for our own selfish ends or with each other for the sake of unity and peace."

Unity and sibling harmony within the Body of Christ IS a FIGHT. And, we are wise to prepare for these skirmishes by equipping ourselves w/ the armor of the Word...

Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense  says Proverbs 19:11.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. I Corinthians 13:4-8


Love covers a multitude of sin. I Peter 4:8

Our unity as Christian brothers and sisters not only pleases our Heavenly Father; it speaks volumes to a watching, lost world, looking for ways out of conflict, looking for peace. As believers, we know peace with God so that we can also know peace with each other.  He fought His flesh so that we can fight ours.  He defeated the dominion of darkness so that we can come alongside each other and defeat the real enemies, that of the world, our flesh and the devil, not each other.

In his sermon this past Sunday, my pastor shared a quote from theologian and author, Wayne Grudem.  It hit me square between the eyes in my own personal wrestlings for unity and peace within the Body.

Where love abounds in a fellowship of Christians, many small offenses, and even some large ones, are readily overlooked and forgotten. But where love is lacking, every word is viewed with suspicion, every action is liable to misunderstanding, and conflicts abound- to Satan's perverse delight.


Will you fight with me for unity and peace with your Christian brothers and sisters? Will you fight to overlook offenses, to love earnestly, to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things? It hurts to do this. Sometimes, it hurts a lot. And the only way we can do this ongoing, one offense after another, is to look to Jesus, the One who absorbed every offense without retaliation or threats, but instead entrusted Himself to Him Who judges justly.


Look to Jesus and love. 
Look to Jesus and live in unity with your Christian siblings. 
Look to Jesus and know peace.

From the Floor

Thanksgiving-a time when we give thanks for all the blessings, all the good, everything that’s gone well-is what marks the beginning for me. It was the beginning of a journey I never wanted to take, down a path with several twists and turns. It was the beginning of what has been the end for me of many things, and I wonder what more it will take from me. It was the beginning of chronic pain.

Only days after Thanksgiving, 2007, I found myself nearly immobilized by pain. I was floored, literally, by a pain that seized and controlled and left me out of control, on the floor desperate for relief. Not even the un-medicated childbirth of my third born compared to this pain.

Now four years later, after numerous scans, doctors and therapies, I still find myself at times bulldozed by gnawing, distracting, and even seizing pain. I’m grateful for respites, and I’m grateful for tolerable. I’m still learning to give thanks for the intolerable, crushing blows, though.

Sometimes the pain chains me to this earth--to the fallenness of this world and the brokenness of my body. It distracts me from being heavenly minded because so much concern and thought is devoted to relief .

But, sometimes the pain is a door of mercy, opening up to me mysteries I’d not understand otherwise, insights I’d not see, and beauty I’d not know. I had one such time recently as I lay face down on the floor with ice. It was there God lifted me and opened my eyes to see past the pain, to feel beyond the discomfort, to know Him while I shared in just a taste of His suffering.

From my journal that morning, I wrote, “Down on the floor, it's dirty and dusty, and I lay in the midst of it. I don't just see it; I'm in it. And I'm thinking this morning as I peer under my nightstand that this might be just a taste of what it was like for Jesus to come live among us--among our filth and sin.”

He left the brilliance of Heaven to live among the base.

He left the splendor of Heaven to live among the simple.

He left the grandeur of heaven to live among the ungrateful.

He left the virtue of Heaven to live among the vile.

Thank you, Lord, for your willing condescension.

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross! Philippians 2:6-8

His Obedience, Our Reward

He bursts through the front door along with the sunshine. "Mom, we got you a blueberry muffin from Dunkin Donuts," Judah declares with a smile beaming on his red, wonderful face. Judah had blood work done that morning, a fasting blood test this time for his endocrine doctor. And, as our tradition goes, Judah is permitted a donut from Dunkin Donuts anytime he has bloodwork or a laser treatment. It gives him something to look forward to and we hope helps him endure the sting of it all.

This morning, when he walked through the front door with Dunkin Donut bag in hand, full with treats for all, I was taken a back with Judah's exuberance and joy in sharing his reward with the rest of the family. It was his obedience, endurance and bravery but our reward. And, it was his delight to share it with us.

So, it is with Christ.

Jesus was more than brave. He endured. He obeyed even unto death.

And, we received His reward. Colossians 1: 12-14 says,"... the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

Reminds me of these words from a song we sing at my church,

And I love you for the cross
I'm overwhelmed by the mystery
I love you for the cost
That Jesus you would do this for me
When you were broken, you were beaten,
You were punished, I go free
You were wounded and rejected
In your mercy - I am healed