And then He provided... again.

I love talking to people with a strong faith talk about different things that God has provided for them when resources were slim and needs were high.

Like the story from Great Grandpa: They needed wood to keep their cabin warm, and they had no wood. A prayer was prayed asking for a miracle. Minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and when they opened the door, nobody was there... except a pile of wood. It was snowing, and there were no footprints anywhere around the door or the pile of wood. An absolute miracle.

If you were in that situation, would you have prayed for a miracle, and believed God would provide?

Or would you have fretted about how you had no wood? Check.

Recently, I have been asking my God to stretch my faith so that I would pray prayers like that one.

In our first year of marriage, when we were both still in college, I prayed specific prayers like that a LOT, because, well, the needs were HIGH. And the resources were LOW. Really low. Like our entire monthly budget back then was less than our current mortgage payment kind of low.

And God provided:

The money to buy a computer - boom. It was there.

Incredible health insurance at a very low cost - there is no way health plans like that even exist anymore. And little did we know, we'd be needing it for some rather extensive medical bills that year.

A computer chair we had prayed for - a broken but fixable chair showed up in the hallway.

And at the end of our first year of marriage, a place to live AND work - all in one, God provided an apartment manager position for us.

Not to mention that whole first year of marriage our entire budget was like the 5 loaves and 2 fishes. I remember we tried to sit down and make a budget, but whenever we did, we always ended up with more expenses than we did income. Writing out a budget never worked. But we always had enough money to pay our bills. I remember us scratching our heads and saying, "how has this been working??" We never ever, not once went in the red.

And it's almost like our faith didn't take any human faith. God gave it to us freely. It was a no-brainer. "Well, of course God will provide!" Like, duh! I really honestly do not remember ever being stressed about money at all back then.

Except for the time I forgot to deposit a check and I overdrafted our bank account and had to pay $25 for one overdraft. That was stressful. That was my entire week's budget for food!! I remember that SO clearly. Anyhoo.

Then we both graduated and were a double-income-no-kids family, with NO rent (we managed an apartment complex, Matt was starting to get music gigs, and I worked full-time), and we had plenty of money. Suddenly I wasn't praying for provision or miracles because God was providing the resources through our jobs. How easy it is to forget that the provision is still coming from God. We got into an easy, comfortable time.

Once we had a mortgage payment, and then kids, and I cut way back on my work hours, we were living mostly on Matt's self-employment income. Which you all know is rock-solid and never fluctuates (HA!). So the game of trusting and praying and fretting began again. It's a game we've played for 6 years.

Sometimes we're good at it, relying on the trust and prayer. Sometimes we're not so good at it, relying on the fretting.

What we're relying on the fretting to do, I do not know. Let me know if you come up with a good outcome of fretting. So far I haven't come up with anything.

Several weeks ago, Lysa TerKeurst had a great story on her blog about a huge prayer of faith, and the miraculous outcome. I felt a spark in my heart, a little poke of the Holy Spirit, saying "I have all of this waiting for you, and more... just trust me". It really inspired me to begin to pray, "What should I be trusting you for, Lord? What am I holding on to that is rightfully yours?"

So, can you believe that all of THAT was a prelude for my story? Congratulations if you got this far!

We're having a foreign exchange student stay with us beginning in a few weeks, and we needed to have a desk and a bed in her room. Neither of which we own. Neither of which we really have room in the budget for at the moment. I prayed about it. A simple, seemingly selfish, not at all "spiritual" prayer. "Lord, we need a desk and a bed. Will you help us find them inexpensively?"

So I was looking on Craigslist, and searched "desk". That's it. Talk about a broad search.

The first, most recent listing that came up had been posted only 10 minutes earlier. It was a posting for a "FREE retro 50's desk". The desk was in this person's alley waiting to be hauled away.

The address of the house was 3 blocks away from my house. 3 blocks. I couldn't believe it. Within 20 minutes, we had loaded a very functional, large desk into our van! 3 blocks away! And the price? FREE!

It gets better. While we were waiting to load up the car and go pick it up, I got a call from my friend Sarah, and upon telling her what we were doing, and mentioning that we were looking for a bed also, she said, "Oh! My mom has a twin size matress and box spring that she wants to get rid of. What do you need?"

"Uh... a twin size matress and box spring. How much does she want for them?"

"Nothing. She says it's free!"

Woo. Hoo. !!!!!

One "selfish" prayer. And a wee bit of faith.

And one morning, within 20 minutes of each other, God provided a desk. And a bed. Not inexpensively, as I had requested. Better than I had requested. FREE.

"...him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think..." Ephesians 3:20

I don't want to over-spiritualize this, either, because it's not about a desk and a bed. God is far more interested in what's going on in my heart than he is in a bed or a desk.

But that's kind of my point. I am reminded about both the awesome power AND the personal care that the God of the Universe has taken on ME, little old ME and my cares and requests.

I believe that God impressed on me to pray that prayer- SO that he could provide far more abundantly than all I asked or thought- in order that I would see Him and praise Him.

Because that's just what He's like.

So, I'm asking it again. "What should I be trusting you for, Lord?"

Reflections on Mother's Day Part 2

When I am happy, I have the tendency to think everyone else is happy, too.

We don't often assume that the people around us are hurting. At least I don't. I'm relatively happy-go-lucky by nature, and I assume everyone around me is nice, honest, happy, and rich. Kidding on the rich.

So when I go to church on Mother's day weekend, and it is a happy time for me, I greet those around me with joy!

I'm a mother! You're a mother! Lets honor the mothers and make them feel special! In some churches I've been in, they've had the mothers stand or had a flower to hand out to each mother, or some token of honor. I've never thought anything about it. It's really a nice gesture.

My church does something a bit different. A bit unconventional. They don't have anything for the mothers. They have white roses at the front of the church that are for anyone that finds Mother's Day painful for any reason. It might be that your mom is no longer living. It could be infertility or the loss of a child. Or both. Or maybe your desire is to marry and have children, and yet you remain single. Given these situations, the truth is that there are many around me that feel pain on Mother's Day. There were many, many people last Sunday with white roses in their hands. They were everywhere.

Read Jenna's post from last Sunday. It's beautiful. Worth the 15 second pop over there.

This Mother's Day, at my Aunt's church in California, upon entering the sanctuary door, each woman was asked, "Are you a Mother?". If the woman said, "Yes", they were given a flower and a small box of chocolates.

Sounds like a good idea, doesn't it? In theory? Mother's day is about honoring mothers. Let's honor the mothers!

But, you know where I'm going with this. Put yourself in the position of someone (many many someones) who have attempted pregnancy for years, or have lost children to miscarraige, and are yearning to be a mommy. This sweet woman walks into the door of that church, probably dreading every second of the big "Happy Mother's Day" message. Maybe she didn't even want to go to church at all that day. Last year on Mother's Day, she thought "This will be my last Mother's Day without children! Next Mother's Day, it will be my day!" But, here's another Mother's Day with pain. Raw pain. Now as she walks into church, she is asked, "Are you a Mother?!" and then given nothing when she squeaks out a "no". So hurtful.

The only reason I am now sensitive to this pain is because of the beautiful way my church has dealt with this issue (and the many people I saw with white roses there), as well as watching my BFF Auntie struggle through 3 of the lousiest Mother's Days the last 3 years.

I'm not on a soapbox about insensitive churches. I'm one of the insensitive ones. Being sensitized by other's pain.

This is another way we can rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. (Rom 12:15)

I can't mourn with someone who needs me to mourn with her if I'm blind to her pain.

A Bend in the Road

God is God. I don't want to try to be God. I really don't.

But, the truth is... sometimes I DO.

Actually, a lot. Probably daily.

The road of my family's life currently has a bend ahead. I can see to the bend, but I can't see past it. I can't tell which way it turns, if it goes down a hill, up a hill, what the terrain is like.

I KNOW there is a bend. I can see it. But beyond it, who knows? I am so glad that I know who knows. And God not only knows, but He built the road. He crafted the very ruts in the road as well as the flowers alongside the road to smell. He knows what rivers we have to cross and what beauty we will behold.

I have complete peace in letting go of the control of this situation (at least right this millisecond). Because, we've been walking this road for a long time. And God has a reputation in my life of making Himself known and shown. I can look back and see His provision, His plan. His creation of our family, from the very start. He has led us each step of the way, with a plan. Why should I doubt?

And, of course there's the promises in scripture that God will never leave us. That he will provide for all of our needs. That he will not give us more than we can bear. That HE is Holy. Holy, Holy, Holy. Worthy of our praise. Always.

I leave all of this a little obscure not so much because I want to be private about it (don't worry, there's only about half of a private bone in my entire body... another time, another place, I will share...), but because I know that there are a myriad of bends in a myriad of roads out there. All look different. To compare them, some are more heart-wrenching than others. But the person walking down a road, looking at a bend, is facing a challenge. It's hard. It's hard to let go of the control. It's hard to say no to the fear.

My heart has been caught up today in praying/thinking/crying for a woman named Katie. Katie's family went to my church when I was in High School. She's approximately my age, she is married and has 3 young children, the youngest is a little boy less than a year old. 6 weeks ago, Katie found out she had an aggressive form of colon cancer. She had surgery a few weeks ago and had been recovering but has taken a turn for the worse. As of yesterday, her organs had shut down and she is in a "Only a miracle could save her" state of being, per the words of the doctors.

That's a bend that makes me thankful for my own bend in the road.

But I'd be lying if I didn't also tell you confidently that Katie's bend is also a bend that God crafted. He doesn't only make good bends. He makes tragic bends too. Katie is a woman that oozes faith and hope and has made MANY people around her aware that God is God. And worthy to be praised. I feel strongly that Katie's bend is birthing new believers in Christ. And bringing Glory to Him. And, maybe, Katie's bend will include a miracle.

I AM thankful for my bend ahead. I am thankful for the One who built the road and the scenery, the rivers and the landscape. I am thankful for the family that God gave me to walk the road with. For for the best friend and leader my husband is, and the incredible blessings my kids are.

The End Of The Road Is But A Bend In The Road
by Helen Steiner Rice

When we feel we have nothing left to give

And we are sure that the "song has ended"--

When our day seems over and the shadows fall

And the darkness of night has descended,

Where can we go to find the strength

To valiantly keep on trying,

Where can we find the hand that will dry

The tears that the heart is crying--

There's but one place to go and that is to God

And, dropping all pretense and pride,

We can pour out our problem without restraint

And gain strength with Him at our side--

And together we stand at life's crossroads

And view what we think is the end,

But God has a much bigger vision

And he tells us it's only a bend--

For the road goes on and is smoother,

And the "pause in the song" is a "rest,"

And the part that's unsung and unfinished

Is the sweetest and richest and best--

So rest and relax and grow stronger,

Let go and let God share your load,

Your work is not finished or ended,

You've just come to "a bend in the road."

Do you ever...

pray for God to make a decision so clear for you that there's no way you'd miss His sign?

And, then, does He ever produce a sign that's... ummm... very much not like you expected?

Do you think that God just chuckles in Joy? Watching us learn, trust...

scratch our heads??!!

I was discussing this very topic with my friend Jenna today. We want the simple way, the obvious way, the clear way.

But, sweet friends, God wants for us whichever way will produce fruit in our lives. He wants the way that will cause us to look to him, the author and finisher of our faith.

He looks at our life so differently than we do. For I am consumed with thoughts of income, schooling, career paths, action. Action, Lord! C'mon!!!

But he cares for even the sparrow. Does the sparrow have to think about things such as these?
There are many references in the Bible to sparrows, how dispensible they are in man's eye, but how much God cares for them and clothes them and feeds them. How much more so will He care for us whom He loves, and send us on the path He wants for us.

So, scratching our heads, we take a step of faith. Again.

Any of y'all been there?

**Don't forget about Foody Friday this Friday: Your favorite food/recipe. Read here for more information.

Ding, ding...

I'll not soon forget Corene's 5 year well-child visit at the Pediatrician. Corene has some sensory issues, as well as some anxiety struggles. So her reaction to the idea of getting needles poked into her was even more dramatic than the "typical" reaction of a 5 year old. At that time (last summer), her sensory issues were yet undiagnosed, so I was ignorant. I also had all 3 kids with me at the visit, which when I look back was STUPID, but we'll just call it ignorance, ok?


She had to have several shots as well as a blood draw. When the time came to do the shots, I will never forget her reaction. It was involuntary, not like a temper tantrum or a willful action. It was adrenaline, the fight, flight or freeze reaction. Well, in this case, it was FIGHT. Picture with me for a moment, a full-blown 2 year old melt down with arms flailing, kicking, the whole works. Now transfer 50 pound, very-tall for her age-5 year old into that mental image.


It was ugly.


In lieu of a narcotic sedative (What were they going to do, shoot her with it with a spit gun? Pump it in gas form through the ventilation? Bring in a bouquet of poppies? OK, so opium was not an option) the nurse suggested we have ME, little old ME, lay my body on TOP of her body, on top of the table, effectively pinning her under me. So she's looking straight into my face. Screaming bloody murder. And her eyes, those eyes... were screaming louder at me than any voice could ever do. They were saying, "Mommy!" "Help me!" "Save me!" and "Why are you doing this to me?" "Why are you letting them do this?". She never took her eyes off of me, and I just could not peel my eyes away from hers.

It was torture. Pure torture. About halfway through, I started crying. Not crying. Actually, sobbing. OK, I'm crying now as I type. It was AWFUL! The whole ordeal lasted probably 5 minutes, because you know they never find a vein on the first poke. Did I mention it was awful?

I can confidently report that the one most traumatized by that event was ME (followed in a close second by Ava, who watched this all in horror - I'm already saving up for therapy for her). Corene snapped out of it fast enough and didn't have any lasting anxiety from the ordeal. But I was traumatized. Deeply affected by the image of her eyes, boring holes into mine. Pleading with me.


I knew this was for her good. I knew this was to keep her from bigger "hurts". But she didn't. She just had to trust me and know that I loved her, even in the midst of pain and confusion.

Which, y'all... she DID! She knew I loved her. This did not damage her trust in her mommy at all. I think, if anything, it reinforced my love in that I WILL go to great lengths to make sure she gets what she needs to be healthy. Isn't that just amazing? That she would feel loved by me through her pain and my restraint? Not just loved by me in spite of her pain, but because of it.

Later, as I reflected (read: couldn't stop thinking about) those moments, the Lord spoke truth to me:

"How much do you love Corene?" He asked me. "My love is deeper." Eph. 3:18

"How much compassion do you feel seeing her suffer?" "I also have heard your cries, and am compassionate" Exodus 22:27

The experience of being a mother and all of the passionate "mama bear" emotions that come (who knew I could feel such deep love?) are teaching me about how much MORE the Lord is. So you may say, well yeah, duh Jenny, he's more... he's infinitely more. Well, sometimes I need the basics reinforced!

So in my painful situations, when I'm effectively screaming in God's face, pleading with him, is he angry with me? (Like I'm prone to believe) Or does His compassion overflow? (YES!)

When I don't understand why God is allowing something in my life. When I feel abandoned. When I am pleading with God to let this trial end, and it seems to never end.

And I'm having a meltdown.

His voice speaks truth to me.

You, Lord, know what shots I need, what medicine I need. You have a purpose in this pain, even though I haven't a clue what it is. I trust you, I trust your Love. I trust your eyes, they can not turn away from mine. I can feel your compassion and your deep, deep love.

And, I am comforted.

In this way, we can feel loved in our trials. And, even more profound, we can feel loved through our trials.

Ding, ding. That was the lightbulb in my mind. Learning an incredible truth.

Messy Hospitality

OK, truth be told. I'm not a neatnik. I like my house clean. But I don't like being the one to implement those changes. I go through manic streaks where I clean like crazy, have a clean house for a while (because everybody knows it's easier to clean an already clean house), and then it turns into a pit and it's so hard to get it back out of the pit unless I have another manic streak. That's pretty much how my household works. So, maybe 30% of the time, it's clean, and the other 70% it's... ummmm.... not.

I used to not physically be able to leave the house messy when I left to go somewhere. When I still had only 1 child (oh... the days...), I remember distinctly telling a friend I couldn't meet her for a playdate for another 2 hours, because in my mind I knew it was going to take that long to clean up. It stressed me out to leave dishes in the sink or anything out on the counter or table or floor.

I'm so over it.

And, you know, it's not my nature to be stressed out about that kind of thing... it had to do with how I felt about what "others" might think. We had a fairly picked up house before kids, but I never stressed about it. It was messy sometimes. But somehow things had changed after having a baby... I had friends that I needed to impress with my fabulous housekeeping skills, *I* had to pick up, just so *I* felt good about *myself*. Every time I had a friend over and the house wasn't in "company" shape, I apologized about the "mess". It was a bit of pride, a bit of fear, and a lot of insecurity.

When my oldest was 11 months old, I went on a trip to Oregon to visit my dear friend from high school, Michelle. It was a girls week. She has a little boy just a few months younger than Corene, so we played and the kids played.

I will *never* forget that trip. It was heaven, absolute heaven. Her house was spotless SO messy!!! We walked in the door, and there were toys everywhere... she brought me up to the room where I would stay, stepping over laundry baskets of clothes as we went. She showed me the kitchen, where an entire load of dishes was in the sink.

It was JUST like my house!!!

And here's where I learned a lifelong lesson. She NEVER apologized, never tried to "cover up her flaws", never said anything that made me feel awkward. She was just REAL. I have never felt so welcome in somebody's home.

We had conversations about flylady.net and the struggles of keeping a home clean, and all the frustrations and challenges of learning about this "mom" business. We loved each other and encouraged each other. We rejoiced in each other's joys and felt each others pains.

And, I dare say it began with that simple act of hospitality.

The world has it backwards. We use the words "good hospitality" to describe a Martha Stewart placesetting, lavish and *perfect*.

But I am forever changed. Hospitality means open, inviting, real. It means we don't hide our ahem.. *many* flaws.

I leave my dishes in the sink and I let my kids' art projects remain on the table and the legos are all over the floor and the dress up clothes litter the girls' room.

And we go play. Or we go to the grocery store. Or we go to school. Or, *shocker* we have a playdate in our messy house! No apologies.

I do look forward to my manic phases, though. Gotta love a clean house.
Gotta love no hate NO- LOVE the Flylady.

Really I don't DO!!!

Two basic rules of mama grace that are apparently not so basic

To mamas with children:
Please do NOT say to a woman who has no children yet but is struggling and wishes she was a mom, "You wouldn't understand what it's like to be a mom".
Please. Don't say that.

To pregnant mamas or mamas of only one child currently in the babe stage:
If you have not had to deal with discipline issues or really ANY independence issues whatsoever, and you have an idealistic view of parenting, do NOT say to a mom with multiple children, "I wouldn't do that. That's not the right way to do ____fill in the blank_____".
Please. Don't say that.

Every mama everywhere is changed by her own experiences raising children. We all have, and will continue, to make at least 102,687 mistakes in mothering. Every single day, I learn. Every single day, I make mistakes that make me a better mom tomorrow. I am a different woman and a different mom now than I was 5.5 years ago. hallelujah. And I will be different 5.5 years from now. HALLELUJAH!!! Can I hear an "Amen", sisters??!!

Boy, do I remember -

-seeing a child have a meltdown in the grocery store and having contempt for the mother that "can't control her child". Contempt. Oh, to be able to go hug that mama now and apologize for my attitude.

-puffing up my chest and thinking, "my child will never eat food from a jar!" Humph! (That's just hilarious now that I even ever thought that...)

-feeling secretly proud that MY child didn't watch videos like so-and-so's kids... at 1 year old she sits and looks at books quietly alone for hours on end. It must be because I don't show her videos... her little mind hasn't been tarnished. (little did I know, this behavior was NOT normal! This is a personality trait! My little second born was um.... NOT so easily amused!! Although, now that I think of it, by then, I WAS doing the unthinkable and allowing this mind tarnishing... so I could take a SHOWER. hmmm....)

or

-Complaining to a dear friend that I was going to have to bring my 6week old baby on a plane for a wedding, how much of a pain that was going to be... when she was going to the wedding, too... wishing, hoping, wanting a babe in her arms to show off...

Oh, the grief we can sow with our tongue.

And where does this tongue-lashing originate? Love? Uh, no. For me, it's pride. Or jealousy. It's icky, even to speak it. But my heart is filled with pride. I am beating it down constantly.

This is an excerpt from my pastor, John Piper's sermon last Sunday:

So the lesson for us is: Everywhere you see some growth, some virtue, some, spiritual discipline, some good habit, or good attitude, rejoice in it. Give thanks for it. Compliment it. Don’t resent it. Don’t be like Cain. Respond the opposite from Cain. Be inspired by other people’s goodness. Love is humble. Love delights in other people’s good. Love doesn’t protect its flaws. Love takes steps to change them. What a beautiful fellowship where everyone is rejoicing in each other’s strengths not resenting them!

The sentence in there that brings me to my knees is "Love doesn't protect its flaws". We need to be open and vulnerable with each other. Don't hide your flaws, mamas. Let's be real with each other so as to bring each other up. Let's be real with each other, excited for each other's virtues, growth, and habits that we wish we had.

And how do we do this, my bloggy friends? When the sin of pride is at our very core? We pray for the touch of the Holy Spirit to be on us, and for His love to flourish within our hearts.

Wow, who knew my rules of grace would get so serious! Should I change the title?

Straight to the heart

This morning, we had baby dedications in our church. In my opinion, there is NOTHING like seeing babies being dedicated to the Lord. It does for my motherhood what going to a wedding does for my marriage. Gives me new fresh sparks, reminds me what a joy and pleasure children are. Always brings tears to my eyes. Always.





He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." Mark 10:14




It always causes me to picture these little sweet, fresh babes as the future leaders. Future lovers of Jesus. Open, teachable, ready to believe, love, and trust. Gives me goooosebumps! Why is it that I can't always see my own children in that light?



Ava is going through an illness. An illness that strikes all 3 year olds, I know Corene went through it, but I had blessed amnesia about it until a few weeks ago when I started seeing symptoms in Ava. It's called "little liar" syndrome. The symptoms sound something like this:




Ava: (calling me during quiet time when she's not supposed to be talking) Mommy? Mommy!



Me: (walking in the room) What is it, Ava?



Ava: I didn't call you. It was Corene.



Me: (speechless)
Corene: (silent)

Ava: I'm bored.


Me: Ava, you're not supposed to be talking.


Ava: I'm not talking! It's Corene!


Me: Who said "I'm bored"? (I watched her mouth move, mind you)


Ava: Corene. Corene did, Mommy.






Aye. de. mi. I will spare you the details of the events that followed.



So, at this point, I'm not visualizing my daughter as a future leader. I'm visualizing her as a future drug dealer.



One of our pastors gave an amazing "mini sermon" on this passage in Mark as part of the baby dedication. May I summarize and ponder a bit on it?



Read that verse again. Imagine in your mind what Jesus sounded like when he said it. Imagine his tone of voice and his countenance:


He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." Mark 10:14



Warm? Fuzzy? Sweet? That's what I think of.


Now, let's look at it in the context of the verses around it:




13People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. 14When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 15I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." 16And he took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them.



Notice that little word indignant? Synonyms are angry, resentful, infuriated, mad. Not warm. Not fuzzy. Not sweet. Y'all, the Son of God was ticked off. He was indignant at the disciples for "putting off" the children. They were only trying to help. They were trying to make things go smoothly for Jesus.





In my human understanding, I can understand how Jesus would need to remind the disciples that the children are important, and encourage the disciples to let the children come to Him. But why was he angry? There must be something more to it than meets the human eye. Jesus isn't known for being angry often in his life, and the few times we read of him being angry, it's for very good reason. Merchants in the temple, defiling a Holy place. Pharisees that are trying to trick Him into saying something worthy of rebuke. Satan himself trying to tempt Him. Disciples trying to keep the peace in the crowds around Jesus?



Could it be that the way God sees children is completely and utterly different than the way we see them? God sees them as the model for how we must be as people in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven(vs15). They are the future leaders, but more importantly, also the present models of simple faith, open, teachable, ready to believe, love, and trust.




Ding ding ding. Light bulb moment. This morning in my service, the Lord lavished upon me but a glimpse, a glimmer, of how He sees His children. I WANT to understand this! I want to see it more. OK, truth be told, I really don't. It's foreign. It's mysterious. It's Divine. My glimpse has given me a hunger for knowing Him more. And, all the more, I want to train up my children in the way they should go, I want to utilize these times of softenss and teachability. I want to learn from them as I teach them and watch them grow. It's inspiring, and it's a wake-up call.




Let them come, do not hinder them! These are the children!

Lessons from Daniel

My girls' favorite Bible story is Daniel and the Lions' Den(Daniel 6). We've read it countless times. There's something about the heroic nature of the story, that draws them to it. When Darius runs to the den "in haste" the next morning to see if Daniel is still alive, it's so amazing and cute to see my daughters tense up, in anticipation, to "see" if Daniel is alive! The story is new to them each time we read it!

This morning, I discovered an old (OLD) story Bible from my husband's childhood (it was even old when he was young!), so we read, of course, Daniel and the Lions' Den. It had a little different wording than we were used to reading. One thing stood out more clearly the way this was written: Daniel usually prayed 3 times a day, in his upper chamber, with the windows open. That's what he did every day. Then, after the King issued the decree saying you could not pray to anyone except him, it's very clear that he continued to pray, 3 times a day, in his upper chamber, with the windows open. He didn't change a thing.

So, we're reading along, and Corene stops me and says, "Why did he do that? Why didn't he go pray someplace in secret instead, since it was the law?" Hmmm... good question. He could have kept his prayers a secret - if I was him I think I might have done just that. That would seem the logical thing to do. There are many Christians today that live in places where the Church is persecuted, and they must pray and meet in secret. And if you look throughout the Bible, there are many many instances where people ran and hid when the government or those in power were chasing them. Mary and Joseph were told by an angel in a dream to take Jesus in the night and flee to Egypt. God could have chosen to provided a miracle to protect them. But that wasn't His plan.

So, Why did he do that? Why didn't he close his windows? The king, Darius, and the people wouldn't have been able to see what a great God Daniel's god was. There would be no story for us to marvel at. God wanted himself to get the Glory. And it didn't stop there, each time we read the story in the Word, we marvel yet again (each and every time!) and glorify Him! "Woohoo!! Go GOD!" is usually what comes out of my mouth. :)

This made me start to think, how did Daniel know he was to keep praying as he had been? The text does not say, it just says he did it. So I whipped out my Bible and I read the whole story again, and something in the story popped out at me: verse 23 says "So Daniel was taken up out of the den, and no kind of harm was found on him, because he had trusted in his God." Daniel was a steadfast servant of the King of Kings, and he had the Spirit of God on him throughout his life. God had been revealing dreams and other secrets to him, so the power of God was something he was familiar with. Daniel did not begin trusting God in the den of lions, he had been in communion with God for years, his whole life.

I need to be in communion with God now. For Daniel it had been 3 times a day, he got down on his knees and prayed and worshipped. For me, it's likely to look a little different! But it's going to be purposeful, not haphazard. It's going to be focused, not distracted. And it's going to be filled with faith and hope in the living God, not whiney or me-centered.

I struggle with this! My time with God occasionally looks that way, but it's more often haphazard, distracted, and me-centered. I desire to have the foundation of faith that would allow me to open my windows toward Jerusalem, kneel and pray to God, just as I had done before.

Love

'Tis the day of love. It's fun. We have hearts and roses and CANDY and pink and red in various places scattered about our house. It's a day where we're purposeful about telling each other "I love you". It's a day where we're inspired to cut out construction paper into cutsie little hearts and write "To Grambie Love Corene" on them. It's a day where we indulge in chocolate and candy to our heart's content. Dark chocolate Ghiradelli squares with raspberry filling, to be specific. Did I mention to my heart's content? Anyways, ummm, it's a delicious day.

But, c'mon! The day of LOVE? I have to get serious and really examine what in the world hearts, flowers, and chocolate have to do with love. OK, stop, I need to rephrase that. What in the world do hearts and flowers have to do with love? It is painfully obvious what CHOCOLATE has to do with love!!

It's so commercialized, isn't it? Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking Valentine's day. I love Valentine's day, with all of it's fluff and fun. But I had to start thinking when I saw the look on one of my flute student's faces today when I said, "Happy Valentine's day!" She looked up at me and said, "Yeah, whatever. Valentine's day is so depressing when I don't have a boyfriend." Or when my friend told me, "I wish my husband would think about Valentine's day before 9am ON Valentine's day". I resonated with both of those comments. Yeah, depressing when you don't have a Valentine. Yeah, disappointing when your hubby doesn't put the time/thought into Valentine's day. For a lot of people, Valentine's day breeds more feelings of longing or emptiness than it does warm-fuzzies and contentment.

There's human love and then there's Divine Love. Even the very best of all human love leaves something to be desired when you compare it to the Love of God:

"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13
"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:8

As wonderful as marriage and children and dear friends and family and brothers and sisters in Christ are, it pales in comparison to Christ's love. It actually draws us to the Cross, or it should. It leaves us longing for more. For a more perfect love. The love of Jesus.

Could it be, that this is by design? We are left feeling just a bit empty on a day that is about love. On a day that the world says will fill you up.

"Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you." Psalm 63:3

May this be my prayer, and may I really believe it.

Jenny

Become like little children

Funny how God uses our parenting to refine us. I've known for as long as I've been a mom that Motherhood ain't for wimps. How many times have I had to reach deep down into the carpet bag of my soul and pull out that patience that I didn't know existed so that I can answer the 43rd "Mommy" of the hour with love? The Holy Spirit put that patience there, I know it. And how many times has my selfishness been put to the test, when, for the 8th time in one sleep cycle did I have to drag myself out of bed and plod down the hall to comfort an uncomfortable baby. Or how about when I don't even look for patience or seflessness, and I snap irritably at my child? My humility is refined when I must look 2 big, brown, hurt eyes straight on and say "I'm sorry".


I'm adding another area of refinement to my understanding. My daughter Corene is a little bundle of 5 years old. She has been a lover of Jesus for just about 1 month, and she has spiritual sensitivity that brought me to my knees tonight. She has a spark about the things of God that is so refreshing!


Tonight we read in Revelation about Jesus coming back "soon". I knew we were probably opening up 20 questions of eschatology, but we had time so I dove in. After fielding the "What about Max (our cat)?" questions, we started talking about people who don't know Jesus, how they won't be able to come with us to heaven. The Holy Spirit obviously was working in BOTH of our hearts as we prayed, talked, and cried.


Here is what amazed me as I talked with her: This is the "main thing" of life. The main feelings we were wading through was a longing for the people we love to know Jesus. My heart aches as I write this, thinking of the names we prayed for. My heart truly aches for the first time in a long time. Sure, I've prayed for these people. Their names are written on my prayer list in my organizer. But when have I ached for them? When have I truly believed that God could save them?

It took a child, with simple faith, to remind me what the "main thing" is.


"I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 18:3

Refine me, Lord. I am your clay.

Jenny