January 31, 2022 · 3:30 pm

Help, I Can’t See!

 

Winter driving. It’s a whole thing. Snow. Ice. Slush. And don’t forget the lovely salt/dirt combo that coats every car traveling winter roadways in Ohio. What a mess! Thank goodness for windshield washer fluid! Have you ever been out driving on slushy roads and run out of washer fluid? It is quite possibly one of the worst things that can happen. I don’t know if it’s just me or if everyone is VERY bothered by looking through that nasty dry mud/saltwater combo that dries on the windshield. It drives me nuts. Last week I ran out of fluid while I was out, and I didn’t have any in the car. I knew we had some at home, and I planned to ask the hubby about refilling it when we got home. But I forgot… until the next morning, when we were rushing off to school, late of course. No time to stop for washer fluid. So, I had to drive around with a dirty windshield for most of the day.

As I struggled to peer through my dirty window while driving on an especially bright, sunny day, I thought about the things in life that can cloud proper vision. For me, most often it’s my feelings that cloud my judgment. Sometimes it’s fear. Sometimes it’s anxiety. Often, it’s past hurts. All these things can color the way we see what’s coming at us in life. They keep us from seeing clearly; they distort our view of events and circumstances, just like a dirty windshield in the car on a bright sunny day. It’s hard to see clearly through all that grime, whether it’s made of salt and mud, or wild emotions.

This is why God’s Word is so vital to us. We need the eyes of our hearts enlightened (Eph 1:18) so that our perceptions are not colored only by our emotional responses. Time in God’s Word keeps me seeing clearly. Psalm 119:105 says “Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.” When I spend time in the Word, I can have my vision cleared so that I can see people and situations the way God sees them. Yes, he gave us feelings to guide us, but we must always remember that even though the world encourages us to follow our hearts, the Bible says in Jeremiah 17:9 “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” When feelings arise, it is so important to recognize them and unpack where they are coming from. But it is equally important to take our thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). If my feelings don’t align with what God’s Word says is true, then I cling to his word and tell my feelings to pipe down!

May the eyes of our hearts be enlightened today as we seek to look at life through the lens of God’s Word, and not through the dirty windshield of our past experiences and emotions.

 

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January 15, 2022 · 3:27 pm

Around the Mountain

 

I have a four-year-old in my home who is struggling greatly with obedience. I’m realizing that obedience comes easily for some people, but not as easily for others. I am fully confident that God created her strong nature in preparation for the life he has planned for her. It will serve her well. But it must be harnessed.

One of the daily battles we have with our spitfire is at mealtimes. She does not want to eat. She wants to be babied and be fed. She has figured out that there is a system of rewards and consequences in our home, and she often tries to barter for rewards at mealtimes. Unfortunately, she has not yet realized that she doesn’t actually hold any bargaining chips in the family. Obedience would be what would actually yield the result she is seeking.

One recent conversation went like this:

“Mom, can I have hot chocolate for lunch?”

“If you show me that you can eat your food then maybe you could earn some hot chocolate.”

“But Mom, I promise that I will be good, and I will eat my food.”

“That’s not the way a reward works, sweetie. First you have to show me, then you get the reward.”

This of course was followed by pouting, and subsequent whining at the table. So you see, had I given her the reward right away, before the proof of her behavior, I would have been duped. Because she did not intend to follow through on her promise. I mean, she is four.

But this got me thinking. There are certain regards of my relationship with my children that are non-negotiable. I will always love them. I will always do my best to provide for them. I will instruct them. I will help them grow. I do these things regardless of how they are behaving. But there are other aspects to our relationship that vary based on them, based on what they show me by their actions.

The other day, my son, seeing that I was once again cleaning up the house all by myself (he watched me do this a lot over Christmas break), decided that he was going to help me. He put away toys that he hadn’t gotten out or played with, he offered to sweep both the wood floors and the carpets. He wasn’t asking for anything or trying to earn anything from me. But his actions, which were so kind and thoughtful, did return a reward for him in the form of a handful of gummy bears in the bottom of his snack cup.

When my children demonstrate obedience, along with trustworthiness, respect, care for another, love, etc, I love to reward them.

When I think of this in terms of my faith, I know that there are things about my relationship with God that are the same non-negotiables as I have with my kids. He will always love me, protect me, provide for me, and care for me, no matter how I am behaving. My salvation is secure in him because I chose to believe. However, as a growing Christian, I have to realize that my actions, not my promises to act, return rewards. This is the essence of living by faith. Faith in action unlocks the door to more abundant blessing God longs to unleash in our lives.

But we have to DO it.

Sometimes there are things that I feel God asking me to do, and I tell him I will do them, but then I don’t follow through. It’s like Hannah at mealtime. There’s one thing in particular right now that I’m feeling him nudging me to do, but I keep making excuses about how I don’t feel I’m capable, or especially that I don’t have enough time. It will stretch me too thin, thinner than I’m comfortable with. That, I suppose, is exactly the point. It will be action taken in faith, the assurance of something hoped for but not seen (Hebrews 11).  God will have to supply the result if I begin by taking the first steps.

As I consider obedience in this area of my life, I hear God answering my excuses: “You don’t need more time; you need more trust.”

I don’t know what thing God may be calling you into, or what your excuse to put him off has been. But whatever it is, you probably don’t need more of what you think you do – time or resources or whatever. You probably need more trust. God’s going to come through for us when we take that step of faith. He longs to reward us when we act in obedience to him (with more than a handful of gummy bears in our snack cup, enticing as that may be for some of us!).

One of my favorite stories of obedience in the Bible is of Philip in the book of Acts when he’s told to go and talk to the Ethiopian eunuch. Acts 8 says this: “The Spirit told Philip, ‘Go to that chariot and stay near it.’ Then Philip ran up to the chariot and heard the man reading Isaiah the prophet” (29-30). The story ends with Philip explaining the gospel to this man, who receives salvation and is baptized. Philip’s obedience resulted in a life changed for eternity!

What about this ordinary passage has always impressed me? Philip RAN. He felt the Spirit of God nudging him into something, and he took off running in that direction. I may not struggle with obedience like my four-year-old, but I also don’t RUN into it like Philip. If he hadn’t run, he would’ve missed the opportunity. And this is what I feel like I’ve been doing lately – missing a bunch of opportunities because I’m waiting on my life and my circumstances to make something easier for me to accomplish. I’m running alright, but in the wrong direction! Just like my little Hannah, I’m bartering, promising, and excusing. But I’m not doing the one thing I really need to do – and that’s obeying. I feel a little like the Israelites in the wilderness: “Then the Lord said to me [Moses], ‘You have been traveling around this mountain long enough. Turn…’” (Deut 2:3). It’s time to turn. Quit spinning my wheels. Quit wandering around and around the mountain. It’s time to obey, to take the step of faith. I don’t know what your mountain is, but I hope you are ready to join me in taking an active step of faith into obedience.

 

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December 31, 2021 · 4:18 pm

Good News!

 

We’re closing out another difficult year. So many people have experienced so much loss. Maybe like me you are entering 2022 with some feelings of trepidation. What trials will the new year hold? Who will be lost in the coming year? How much more sadness and loss can I endure? Was this my last Christmas with So and So? Will this dreadful pandemic ever end?  I have to imagine I’m not alone in these fears and question marks. The good little Christian in me knows in my head that that’s not how I’m supposed to live. But the losses lately have been so staggering – it’s not normal to lose count of the number of people you know personally who have died this year, let alone those your friends have lost in addition. It’s hard to see a bright new year in the midst of so much turmoil.

As I sat in church for the final Sunday of 2021, anxious fears looming in my vision, I listened to extremely familiar words in a brand new way. I memorized these words along with my first grade class 30 years ago! I’ve heard them dozens of times every Christmas season every single one of my 38 years. But they came alive in this moment.

“But the angel said to them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people.’” (Luke 2:10)

While the pastor was emphasizing the reality that this good news is for all people, I heard three distinctive phrases that should mark out my perspective for 2022:

Fear not.

Good news.

Great joy.

I love that this verse begins with a “but.” It indicates that the statements coming are contrary to what has come before. Given the circumstances the shepherds were experiencing in Luke 2, there was definitely cause for concern, trepidation, anxious feelings. They were out on an ordinary evening, in the dark wilderness, watching their sheep when BAM. Bright sky full of singing angels. I can only imagine shouts of “What is going on?!” We don’t often stop to put ourselves in their shoes and imagine what that must have been like.

But. The crucial turning point. Our circumstances may be unnerving, even terrifying. But God says, “Fear not.” These words resonate in my fearful heart. Fear should not dominate my view of 2022. Why not?

Good news.

The good news of Christmas is a great launching pad for the coming year. Simply put, we don’t have to live in fear of the next crisis because of Jesus. Yes, the next crisis will come. But the good news of Jesus changes everything. His birth, life, and death and resurrection, offer HOPE for those who believe that far outweighs the next crisis. Life is hard. Our world is broken. But there is good news. We can lift our eyes above and beyond the troubling circumstances of our world and walk forward into this new year with our gaze fully fixed on that good news and the One who brings it. This brings us to ….

Great joy.

When we trust God fully, we can walk forward in joyful assurance, knowing that we are LOVED beyond our understanding. Knowing that He has our back; we walk in His power. Knowing that He is both GOOD and SOVEREIGN. There’s nothing outside his control. And there’s nothing he’ll allow that isn’t the very best for us. Even our trials. And we know that heaven and eternity awaits. We can’t lose sight of the big picture.

This is the launching point I want to be leaping from into the new year.

Fear not.

Good news.

Great joy.

As a loving mother, I can’t imagine how hurt I would feel if my children expressed concerns or fear to me about how I was going to care for them this coming year. I’m a flawed human being, but I would do everything within my power to ensure that they are safe, nurtured, growing, loved and cared for in every way. How much more does our Heavenly Father have good plans to care for us in this coming year? He’s way more perfect than I could ever be as a parent.

He lifts our chin and captures our gaze like we sometimes do with our children. His message is the same all these years later. Look up and hear: Fear not. Good news. Great joy.

 

 

 

 

 

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October 11, 2020 · 6:11 pm

Sophie’s Story: When Your Parachute Doesn’t Open

 

Skydiving is something that I hope I never have to do. For many people, it’s on their bucket list, something they want to check off while they’re on this earth. But not me. I don’t really even like flying, let along leaping from a plane aloft. No thank you.

 

This week I was listening to a testimony of an Ohio athlete, and she compared following Jesus to skydiving. My mind quickly began processing this idea – one thing I very much love (Jesus), paired with something else that at the very least I have no interest in, and at greatest, terrifies me beyond reason. I don’t want them to be the same!

 

But, here’s the thing – she’s right. Following Jesus is in some ways like leaping from a plane because it takes faith. Faith that the parachute will open. Faith that Jesus will rescue you.

 

Sometimes we let the bad things that happen to us in life convince us that Jesus has allowed our parachute not to open, and that he’s allowed us to spiral towards the ground and go splat. Pain. Destruction. Ruin. Rejection. Illness. Disability. Death.

 

But the more life I experience, the more I realize that Jesus never lets that happen. In fact, sometimes the very awful things that we walk through are the parachute of his rescue. You see, Jesus is not so much concerned with our comfort and our happiness; he’s concerned with our character and with our eternity. And he uses every single difficulty that we encounter on this earth to redeem and rescue our souls.

 

The story of Joseph is a testament to this truth. I cannot imagine literally being sold off by my brothers as a slave to a foreign nation. (Thanks for never doing that, bro!) I cannot imagine being wrongly accused of so much and imprisoned for years because of it. Oh, the injustice! Why is Joseph not an angry and cynical being?! After all the years of Joseph’s struggle, when he finally reconciles with his brothers, he says this:

 

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20)

 

Joseph had to have felt like his life was one failed parachute moment after another! Yet he chose to see the good that God was doing in the midst of all of it.

 

When my daughter was diagnosed with autism, I very much felt like my parachute had not opened, like God had not come through for me. But as I have walked this journey with her, I can agree with Joseph, that “God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done,” and maybe even I would go so far as to say for “the saving of many lives.” Sophie’s disability has opened doors for me to ministry that I never would have imagined for myself. In many ways, I am who I am because of who she is, and I am doing what I’m doing because of her life and how God is using all of that to shape me. That doesn’t make it an easy journey, but then, I don’t think easy is really the point.

I’m honestly not sure what kind of a person I would be if it wasn’t for my difficult life experiences. In every moment that we feel like we are spiraling toward the ground, and the parachute isn’t going to open, we have a choice. We can choose cynicism, anger, fear, doubt. Or we can choose trust. We can choose faith. We can stand on the promise that God is working for our good, even when it is impossibly difficult to see it. And not just for our good, but for his bigger picture good, for his story, for “the saving of many lives.”

 

 

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September 28, 2020 · 7:59 pm

A Walk in the Dark

 

Have you ever lost something extremely important or valuable? Misplaced items is one of my husband’s pet peeves. It makes him crazy! I can’t say it’s a good feeling in my mind, either. I realize my limits when something is lost, because I can’t find it. No amount of wanting to find it will make it appear to me. I feel powerless to locate the item, no matter if it’s important or insignificant. I am limited, because I don’t know where it is.

 

One of the items that seems to often go missing in our house is our three-year-old Hannah’s lovey, “Nini.” And she’s always lost at bedtime. There have been numerous times that Andrew and I have torn the house apart searching for Nini, sometimes for hours, while a distraught Hannah waits in her bed for her beloved blankie to be found.

Last week Nini was lost at bedtime, and as we retraced our steps through the day to try and remember the last time we saw her, I recalled seeing Hannah take her outside. Into the darkness I went in search of Nini, even though Andrew had already looked there. We had searched the house high and low for nearly an hour, so I figured a second look outside was permissible, and the urgency to locate her was quite real in my heart.

 

 

Out there in the quiet darkness of the night as I walked my yard, God’s presence felt so much more tangible than in the hustle and bustle of the day full of many distractions. As I searched, God called to mind several passages and parables of lost items from the Bible. But the one that stood out boldest in my mind was this:

 

“You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jer 29:13)

 

I was searching for Nini with all my heart, with an urgency that I rarely feel when seeking the Lord. Yet, how much more valuable is his kingdom and his wisdom? Jesus teaches several parables on the worth of his kingdom in the gospels.

 

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.” (Matt 13:45-46)

 

All he had, friends! He sold all he had. His whole life didn’t compare to that pearl! We should be seeking Jesus and his kingdom with all that we have, because nothing on this earth compares with him.

 

How many worthless pursuits are we on in this life? What are we spending energy searching for and seeking that amounts to chasing the wind (Ecc 3)? Solomon calls those pursuits meaningless. Yet we chase them as if life depends on us obtaining them.

 

Isaiah also speaks of our earthly ambitions in a similar way:

 

“Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” (55:2)

 

As I walked over every step of my backyard looking for Hannah’s beloved Nini, I felt my priorities re-orient mentally. My faith and my pursuit of Jesus need to be first.

 

What in your life is taking time and energy that should be given to seeking Jesus? I know that we can’t just clear our schedules every day, call off work, sit in the woods and bask in his Spirit all day every day. We are called to our families, our jobs, our ministries. We need to do these things. But what are we doing to be filled with Jesus, to seek his kingdom, “and search for it as for hidden treasure” (Prov 2:4)?

 

I think it is as much a posture or attitude of our hearts as it is a time issue. First, we need to make time to seek Jesus. But, we can also orient our hearts towards him through all those things that we need to do, so that we are seeking him throughout our whole day. And when we do spend time alone in his word, our hearts and minds should be seeking him like precious treasure, rather that a casual exchange, as if scrolling through social media. I want my time with Jesus to be life-giving, active, and engaging, not just a mind-numbing scroll-through of my passage of the day.

 

At long last, Nini was found, hiding under the spare blanket at the foot of my bed. (Did I mention that Hannah is also a stasher? She likes to hide things… It’s SO fun, guys.) I was so relieved when we found Hannah’s precious lovey. But I was thankful that God took me outside to walk in the quiet and the darkness, to meet with him in an unexpected place and unexpected way. He’s there, in the middle of your ordinary, if you look for him, seek him out, search for him like a precious pearl. You will never be disappointed at the energy you spend seeking him with all your heart! And the good thing about searching for Jesus is that you won’t feel limited and powerless, because He always shows up to meet you!

 

 

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September 13, 2020 · 2:53 pm

Memories of Daddy: Perspective

My favorite picture of daddy, in his heyday, tending his garden

 

This week I was lamenting to the owner of our local fruit farm after I learned that our late frost this spring stole nearly 80% of their fruit crop. “I’m so sorry you lost so much of your crop,” I commented. “I knew this spring would be hard on your trees.”

 

Her response shocked me: “At least we got some. We are pretty happy about that!”

 

Wow. 80% of their livelihood stolen by the frost, and she audaciously claims happiness.

 

This got me thinking about perspective and something my Daddy always used to say: “We’ll take what the Lord gives us.” He said this most often in the context of his garden, but he also said it about a host of other circumstances that life dealt us.

 

As I have taken on my first larger garden this year, this perspective has shaped my outlook, too. Gardening is really an act of faith. I put a seed in the ground. I tend it. I water it. I keep the weeds away. And I hope that God makes it grow to give us plenty of fruit. It’s not terribly difficult to look on my smallish garden this way, but I was pretty astonished that my local fruit farmer could maintain such a positive perspective about 80% of her livelihood!

 

We’ll take what the Lord gives us. It’s a posture that acknowledges his ultimate control over every detail of our lives. And it postures us correctly for gratitude, that what he has chosen to give us is, ultimately, for the greatest good.

 

Not everything that we are dealt in life is easy to be grateful for. I confess I am not often grateful for my father’s dementia. I am not grateful for a pandemic that has stolen what little time in his memory I maintain. I have seen him only once since the outbreak began in March. I’m so grateful for that visit though because it gave me glimpse of God’s continued goodness, even in the midst of difficult circumstances. Because although dementia has taken him from my life and from the lives of my children in the way that I wish he could be there, it has also placed him somewhere else, somewhere that God knew he needed to be. As we visited with him and his nurse aid back in July, I realized that even though his mind his dimming, his light for Jesus is not. His nurse knows about the day he met Jesus and his journey with the Lord ever since. He has shared Jesus (on repeat, I’m sure) with many of the people who now care for him. I have to trust that this, too, is part of God’s good plan to redeem every circumstance in our lives. It doesn’t mean I don’t grieve our losses, but I can rejoice and be happy in what God is still doing.

 

We’ll take what the Lord gives us. We trust that he is good. We can choose a grateful perspective. What circumstances are you struggling with right now? Where is it hard to see God’s goodness? Instead of looking at the losses you’re experiencing, where can you see God’s loving hand still forming goodness? God cannot NOT be good, and he is always actively working to redeem every situation in your life and mine for the greatest good. I encourage you to choose a grateful perspective today. To audaciously claim joy in the midst of all your difficulties. To take what the Lord has given you and to say thank you.

 

 

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September 6, 2020 · 3:26 pm

Sophie’s Story: Never Alone

As many parents faced the difficult decision this summer about how to choose schooling for their children, I made the choice to jump headfirst into the deep end. I chose homeschooling. I chose this not because we’ve been unhappy with our local school. On the contrary, they have been some of the sweetest, most supportive and encouraging people I could ever ask to have on my team as I raise my autistic daughter. I knew that homeschooling her would be difficult, but I felt that in making this choice, I could provide the one thing for her that the school could not promise this year, because it, too, was beyond their control. I could provide her with consistency. No switching between school formats. No blended learning, with this day being one format, and that format another day. No potential for weeks of virtual learning. (Can I tell you how much my kids LOVED virtually learning?! They did not.) I chose consistency and control over what my children would be learning this year when I chose homeschooling.

 

It has not been without much grief over the loss of such a wonderful team who has helped Sophie grow the past two years. (And Micah, too!)

 

Today as we headed out for a walk, we heard a car slow and pull near. As I looked over, I heard a familiar voice, “Hi Sophie-Girl!” And there in her black SUV sat one of Sophie’s special ed helpers. I was surprised by the onslaught of emotion I felt as we talked for a brief moment about how much we miss school and how the school team misses Sophie. I told her, “We may be back. It has been really difficult working with Sophie with no support.” I fought the tears as she pulled away. I felt alone. I felt the loss of a great team.

 

As we resumed our walk, Hannah (three) called out to her big sister, “Hey Sophie! Wanna hold my hand?!” They walked along, hand in hand. This made the tears come faster as I felt God’s whisper – “You are never alone.” The support looks different this year, but I am not alone in this journey. God placed the exact people in our family who were meant to be Sophie’s teammates and mine. He has also brought numerous friends with years of experience in homeschooling alongside me, as well as a few who are new to the adventure. I am not alone in this. Yes, we need to get some therapies in place to support her growth, and we are working to do that. But God knew what he was doing when he chose us to be her family, her team, her cheerleaders, and led us to choose homeschooling.

 

Micah recently told me he thought I was the “perfect mommy” (which of course touched my heart), but I reminded him that I’m not perfect, though I try really hard to be a good mommy. He said, “Well, then maybe I should say you’re the perfect mommy for this family.” I don’t often feel like I am measuring up, but I am doing my best to be faithful. My word for the year: “faithful.” I’m thankful for the reminder that God did choose me for this task, and I’m thankful for reminders like our walk today that I’m never alone.

 

Do you feel alone in your journey right now? So many of us are walking paths that we would never have chosen for ourselves. But God did choose them for us. And he is good. Praying today that you feel a sweet reminder that you are not alone in your journey either.

 

 

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August 30, 2020 · 5:14 pm

Fear in the Storm

Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels

I grew up a fairly fearful child. Didn’t like loud noises. Scared of the dark. Afraid of storms. Didn’t want to be away from my mom. And I have spent much of my adult spiritual journey working through my fears with God.

 

Fear is a bossy-pants (as we like to call someone bossy in my house). It likes to control us. To bind us. To inhibit us from life. It paralyzes. And it has shown up big for many of us these past few months as we live through a pandemic.

 

My son Micah follows in my sensitive-hearted footsteps and struggles with fear. One of his big fears is storms. Twice this summer we have made this mistake of thinking that we could beat the storm rolling in while taking a walk after dinner. Last week was a particularly harrowing experience for Micah. Just a block and a half from home, as we were power walking, to put it mildly, there was a lightning strike just a couple blocks from us. Micah went into hysterics and climbed me like a tree. We consoled him, without losing too much precious time on our journey to beat the storm home. A neighbor popped out of her porch and asked how far we had to go, offered us shelter on her porch, offered to help us push our stroller home. Such kindness. I’m sure we must have been a sight – two parents with three frantic children, a stroller, and a 65-pound frightened and confused golden doodle, and a partridge in a pear tree. We thanked her and continued what was an all-out sprint towards home at this point.

 

Before the first raindrops fell, we were safely inside our living room. But Micah was shaken. At bedtime he timidly confessed that he was still feeling afraid from the storm. “Mom, I’m still afraid. Why didn’t God just stop the storm? Isn’t he big enough?” I love these honest moments. Haven’t we all asked these questions? Haven’t we all asked him why he didn’t just take away our storm? Haven’t we all been left feeling shaken and afraid because of our circumstances?

 

The truth of the matter is that, yes, he could. But sometimes he chooses not to because he has things for us to learn, or because he wants to bless us in the storm. But we have to be looking for those lessons and blessings. All Micah could see was his fear from his experience, but I wanted him to look through new eyes for the ways that God had helped us in the storm.

 

How did God bless us in our storm?

 

He sent a kind neighbor, whom we don’t even know, out onto her porch who saw us and offered help. That kind of kindness always touches me and assures me that God sees me.

 

He showed up in the storm; he protected us and brought us home safely through the storm, even allowing Andrew to see my cell phone fly out of my pocket as I sprinted towards home. He sees and controls every detail.

 

When we are walking through something fearful, sometimes we must do it afraid (thanks Elisabeth Eliot!). Sometimes fear is not removed, circumstances are not changed, and we must press on through the circumstances. Jesus is Lord of the wind and the waves, but let us not forget that he did allow his disciples in the Bible to experience storms before he intervened. The same is true for us today. Will we have eyes to see the ways he is working in our fear-filled storms?

 

Fear doesn’t need to bind us or keep us from living. We can enter the storm (and live through it!) knowing that Jesus is there.  That’s not to say we can be cavalier… wisdom has its place in life too. Perhaps the third time we consider a walk as a storm is rolling in, we will consider the wisdom of our previous experiences and stay home. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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October 8, 2019 · 6:44 pm

A Lesson from Motherhood: Learn to Laugh (so you can yell less)

There’s two year old who lives in my house, so there’s a lot of angst to go around. She misses her siblings who have abandoned her for school all day. But when they get home, they’re tired, and they don’t want to play with her. She tries to bate them to play with her, but this just makes them mad and escalates the situation. There’s hitting, there’s shouting. There are so many tears.

So much change. So few coping skills. So many emotions. This all has led to a pretty angry atmosphere in the house. Unfortunately, anger is a fire that spreads. And the two year old has been setting the tone for the whole house.

In truth, it’s been my reaction to Hannah and her uncooperative siblings that’s actually setting the tone. Because I’ve given her control through my reactions.

Disturbed by the atmosphere in my home, by my own shortcomings, I searched for a devo in my online Bible app to get me reoriented in the proper direction. I found just what I was looking for in a study that promised to rid your home of angry parenting techniques. Sign. Me. Up. On the first day of reading this new study, I was cut to the heart by so many truths…

Blessing follows obedience. This is why I desperately want to teach my children the importance of obedience. Yet, my own angry responses were not obedient to God’s Word which instructs me not to sin in my anger.
In addition, I know that I don’t feel good when I suffer criticism, or if someone should yell at me. How can I expect my children to blossom under that kind of treatment?
Finally, the icing on the cake… “There’s nothing that anger can do that love can’t do better.” WOW. I got on Amazon, ordered the full book, ordered the study guide. Sold.

And then yesterday happened. I sent the children upstairs to wash their hands after school while I fixed a snack. I asked my son Micah to help his little sister wash her hands, but he passed the buck to his older sister Sophie. The one with autism. The one who loves to play in the water. Can you see where this is going? All you need to add to the picture is the knowledge that our bathroom sink drain is quite slow. I was busy making sandwiches, and you know, time flies and all, so I wasn’t tuned in to the length of time that the girls had been “washing their hands.”

Hannah walks out of the bathroom as I’m putting sandwiches on the table: “Mommy, I’m all wet!”

Indeed. Drenched is a better adjective. Saturated. Soaked.

Sensing that something was amiss, Micah bolted up the stairs. He loves to get his sisters in trouble. “Mom! There’s water everywhere! The girls overflowed the sink!”

Palm to face. Lord Almighty. “In your anger, do not sin,” I whispered under my breath repeatedly as I marched up the stairs.

What a sight to behold. The whole sink top was flooded, dixie cups floating tither and yon, and water was drizzling down the sides of the sink. It looked like the toilet, on the other side of the room, might float away. I think I even saw a lego man trying to hop into a boat among the bath toys.

“In your anger do not sin. In your anger do not sin. In your anger do not sin!!!!”

With a surprising clam only explained by the presence of the Holy Spirit, I sent Sophie to her room and began mopping up the flood. I found a lot of dirt in the process, so I guess that was good. The bathroom’s really clean now. Super.

But wait, folks, that’s not all!

After the great flood, we headed outside to enjoy this nice cool fall day. The children recently acquired a gift from their daddy’s work in the form of a power wheels vehicle that they can tool around the yard in. It’s large and a bit hard for me to wield, getting it out of the garage, past the minivan, up the small hill in our front yard, but I had promised Micah, the shirker who ultimately began the series of events that led to the great flood, so I got the car out, even though our time was cut short from the great mop up.

Micah drove the car into the back yard and started doing loops on the pre-approved track near our yard. Our three year old neighbor girl and my two year Hannah old jumped in to ride.

At some point while I was shooting the breeze with my neighbor, trying to catch just one little moment of sanity with another grown up, describing in elaborate terms the flood that had just occurred, Micah (the shirker) abandoned the ship to use the restroom (sparkling clean!), without my knowledge. And he left the three year old and two year old girls at the helm of the power wheels. (Shirking again!) Before I could catch them, they had run into the neighbor’s down spouting, rammed our fence, and pinned a patio chair to our tree, snapping it in two. As I reached them to get them out of this pickle, shouting and directing them to stop pushing the pedal, to reverse the car, to get out, to desist, for goodness sake, desist, they took good care to drive the car directly into my shins, and then, when backing up, over my foot.

“In your anger do not sin. In your anger do not sin. In your anger do not sin!!!!”

As I evacuated everyone from the power wheels toy-turned-weapon, I felt my ire raising. But I also felt something else: A holy desire to laugh at all of it. I’m a firm believer in the adage that motherhood is sanctifying. And if I’m going to decide to work on an aspect of my spiritual life, you better believe I’m going to have opportunities to practice. That is what is meant by the working out of your faith (Phil 2:12). God is not a genie in a bottle, good old Pastor Ron always says, who wants to zap you into holiness. If you want to get better at something, he gives you chances to practice. My day yesterday was the prefect example. I’m glad I was able to laugh, rather than scream or cry. Rather than a tone of anger, this is the tone I want to set for my home — a tone of humor, laughter, grace, and more grace.

You won’t be surprised to know that the same types of difficulties unfolded again this morning. (I’ve never mopped my floors before 8AM until today, out of necessity, I assure you!!) But I’m hanging on to my peace. My shins are still hurting, but my heart is happy.

“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” (Prov 17:22)

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August 1, 2019 · 12:29 am

Memories of Daddy’s Rubber Gloves

My Daddy is a day away from a move that he is totally unaware of. He is in advanced stages of dementia and is shortly moving to a nursing home to receive full time care. It has been difficult for my mind to even process this. Mostly it feels like an out of body experience. I live a couple of hours away from my parents, so it’s not part of my daily experience to see his dementia. When we are together, he tends to do well because he enjoys the company, even if he’s not always sure who we are. Daddy has always enjoyed life. I remember so many times he claimed to be a child stuck in a man’s body. Not far from the truth. He played often, told corny jokes, and never sat on the sidelines of life. He was a hands-on dad. Engaged.

This week all that he means to me and all that I’m losing hit me squarely between the eyes when my two year old came out of the kitchen wearing the rubber gloves he keeps at my house. She exclaimed happily, “Papa’s gloves!” Tears immediately filled my eyes as I helped her put her chubby fists deeper into the giant blue and yellow gloves that dwarfed her hands. His rubber gloves. Every time my parents would visit us, my dad would insist on washing the dinner dishes, and any other dishes left over from the day, for that matter. He always had to serve us in that way, even feigning offense if we tried to dissuade him. Like me, he prefers to wear gloves when washing dishes, so he purchased a pair years ago to leave at my house so that he’d be prepared to wash any time he came. He has always been the family “dishwasher,” even when I was at home, insisting on serving my mom by cleaning the dishes after she had cooked a meal for the family. Whenever I have lamented not having an electronic dishwasher, or my mother before me, he would say, “What do you need that for when you’ve got me?”

Funny how such a simple thing  as rubber gloves can set off the deepest emotional response. Partly the tears came because, even at two, Hannah knows whose gloves they are — evidence of the bond she already shares with him, and of his importance in our family. How I wish that she would experience the version of him that I know. These gloves remind me of all that we’ve lost to dementia. That Daddy has probably visited my house for the last time. That the gloves will be empty. That he is forgetting his grandchildren, and that they will never know the version of him that I hold so dear. That he knows me less and less each time he sees me. The thief of dementia. I miss the heart of the hands that once filled those gloves.

Whenever I slip on my gloves to serve my family, I am aware of the legacy he created, the servant’s heart he and my mom both shared with me and my brother, which we now have the opportunity to walk out. Though his yellow and blue gloves are too big for me to ever fill with my feminine hands, I know that through my heart, I fill them as I serve my family and my Savior.

Like Daddy, I won’t sit on the sidelines of life. He taught me by his example how to engage, to take action, to love, how to seize the opportunity, to fully live. During times of sadness such as this, it is easy to want to check out, to go numb so that you don’t have to feel the pain of your experience. But that’s not what Daddy would do and it’s not what he would want me to do. When my mom got cancer many years ago, I can still remember my Daddy sitting in his recliner, in the same position it sits tonight, calling each one of his closest friends, and through his tears, telling them the news. He never held back. Always engaged.

This week happens to be VBS for me, so I’m doing it with all my heart. For Daddy, and for the Savior he lead me to as a child. Daddy loved nothing more than spreading the love of Jesus to others, especially young people. That’s an opportunity that must be seized every single today we have, no matter what else is fighting to distract us. That’s what Daddy would do.

I’ve been singing this over and over again….

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