#GodRemembers

"Mom, we forgot to do the Advent calendar."

You'd think her accusation wouldn't catch me off guard any more. I mean, we forget a lot of things. Practically every day.

And yet, those two words "we forgot" prickled something inside me.

Of course I answered rationally, "No, Honey. We didn't forget. We didn't have time yesterday, remember? We had church all night." With that the matter was settled. Right. We didn't have time. It's not that we forgot. It's just that in the 30 minutes we had between school and church we chose to eat snacks and watch a show on PBS. 

Why does the word "forget" sting me so? This morning's observation didn't wound me nearly as much as usual. Such as when I perform my weekly grocery shopping and the kids keenly observe that, "Mom, you forgot the bananas."

You forgot the quarters for Popcorn Friday.
You forgot to wash my shirt.
You forgot to pack my shoes.
You forgot to return the library books.
You forgot to pick up stamps.
You forgot to make the appointment.

You forgot... you forgot... you forgot.

A simple remark becomes a glaring accusation.

#momfail

And we can debate whether I should make more detailed lists, become more organized, or make my kids responsible for all the minutia in their own lives, but the truth is that when I take ownership of a task and fail to meet that responsibility, then I become immediately and poignantly aware of my own shortcomings.

What better time to face my own failing humanity than a season when we focus so pointedly on God's invading divinity?

Because as I continue to spew my tired, irrational rants that "Of COURSE I forgot! I'm busy remembering things for everyone around me," I look at the unsatisfying parts of my life and make my own accusation. God, you forgot. I simultaneously celebrate God and criticize Him.

Blinding tinsel and blaring Christmas ballads are only the tip of the marketing iceberg that breeds discontent in December.Constantly there is the pedaling of the lie that what you have is not enough. That who you are is not enough. And when enough is not enough, you admit that God is not enough. With every complaint we point the finger at God and remind Him, "God, you forgot."

Which is why we need to celebrate the season all the more. Sing God's greatness all the louder.

Because at the heart of the Christmas
message is this, "God has not forgotten you."

The evidence is there, wrapped in skin. For those who waited long for a Savior, who looked to God, just as we have, and asked Him desperately, "God, have you forgotten me, "a baby's cry proclaims, resounding, "Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son from her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you." (Isaiah 49:15)

I will tell you a phrase that I hear far less often, yet when I hear it my heart aches with the pain of full love: Mom, you remembered...

That is gratitude at its simplest. Acknowledging that the caregiver remembered, was faithful.

Those who celebrate Christmas fully are the one who realize gratitude is the manger that cradles the God who remembers. Gratitude is the song of the angels, the urgency of the shepherds, the gifts of the wise men.

Gratitude utters to the broken, "Look at God. See how He remembers us."

Gratitude sees into the family discord and reminds us that Christ was born into discord, and in the darkness of it all God did not forget us, but sent His one and only Light because He loves us.

Gratitude heeds the voice that invites, "Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!" because the Holy One of Israel has not forgotten His covenant with us.

Gratitude is the cure of spiritual amnesia along with all its discontented side effects. It is the song, simple and constant, that sings, "God, you remembered".

Maybe you need to hear the song, remember deeply that God has not forgotten you. Maybe the grinches, bah-humbugs, and hopeless cases around you need to hear it. Chances are it needs to be heard by all of the above.

So as we await our coming King, our God who remembers, let's sing the song together in the hearing of our neighbors. We celebrate a God who has not forgotten us. A God who remembers us always. The only God who can fully satisfy. And for that we are eternally grateful.

The Battle Cry of Thanksgiving

We only enter into the full life if our faith gives thanks...
 Thanksgiving is the manifestation of our Yes! to His grace.

-Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

We are officially one week out from Thanksgiving Day and I am officially unprepared.

Other years I might have had my act together. Other years I would have the majority of my Christmas gifts bought, wrapped, and ready to send along with my father-in-law to take to the other siblings' family Christmas celebrations.

Not this year.

Moving and health have slowed me down to notice a battle cry muffled under the Christmas sales, stuffing ingredients, and travel plans.

The battle cry of Thanksgiving.

First, let me assure you I have no problem with "premature" Christmas decorations and music. I would have no problem if those remained present throughout the year, so why should I mind if they cropped up pre-November? I also take no issue with early gift buying. You have your shopping done? I applaud you.

But under all the Pilgrim and Native American decorations, Thanksgiving has gradually become less a time to thank God for all of our circumstances, and more a time to prepare the perfect circumstances in which to be thankful. Because when things work out, that's really the time to be thankful.

History tells us the greatest believers of all time were set apart by their thankfulness to God for His mercy, His salvation, His Son. Just take a quick survey of all the times Jesus thanked God and you will see the tie between faith in a good, all-powerful Father God and thankfulness to Him.

Thankful living is a testimony to a heart that is satisfied in its Lord.

And since we are all quite aware that satan is a copycat liar, the best way to thwart the testimony of our thankful hearts is to parcel out a cheap, plastic, canned version of the same. A version of thanksgiving that says, "Things are going pretty well. I can be thankful for that." A version that draws thanksgiving from the perishable circumstances without, instead of the imperishable truth within.

Because thanksgiving that stems from outside circumstances alone is a thanksgiving that will be burned with the chaff.

Thanksgiving that stems from the Father who has adopted us into His family as His children, the Son who gave Himself completely so we His enemies could be brought into relationship with Him, the Spirit who dwells within and creates, sustains, and strengthens faith within us, that is the only Thanksgiving that will last.

So this year, I pray that we enjoy Thanksgiving Day- parades, football, food, family. But more importantly, let Thanksgiving Day wake us up, church. Let it not be the end of a chaotic year. Let it not become "the day before Black Friday".

Let it be a resounding battle cry of God's people.

A cry that tells the world that there is joy around us and in us because of Christ alone.

That all the sin and death and destruction around us will not extinguish our thankfulness to the living God because in Jesus Christ those very evils are brought under the power of the Father to bring about a greater good we could never hope to achieve without Him.

A cry that says we will not set ourselves up for destruction by being distracted by imitation joy that can be destroyed in moment.

A cry that says, "Oh taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man that takes refuge in Him." (Psalm 34:8)

A cry that says we belong to a generous Father who lavished upon us the very life and death and resurrection of His only Son. And that because of that we know He will not withhold what we need.

Let this be our "fight song". What a mighty army is built on the hearts of God's thankful people. May God bless your day of battle this year. Love you all.

Counting on Christ and Keeping Track

You should know I tried this ultra-natural ultra-moisturizing treatment on my hair. In my effort to get rid of all things scented, and not spend a fortune on hair products*, I read yet another article about the crazy miraculous benefits of coconut oil. So I did it. About 10 minutes before my shower I gently coated my hair with coconut oil. I let it sit, then washed it out. Then washed it again. And again.

I think I did something wrong, maybe? It took roughly 5 washings over 3 days to get all the oil out. During that time I shoved my head into a hat and called it good. One silver lining to having sick kids- I don't have to worry about facing the world with straight up greasy hair.

All this to say: I screw things up on a regular basis. And things bigger than tropical hair.

Which makes it tempting to play it safe. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Because I honestly live my life like a giant golf game. Unintentionally, I keep track. And the goal is to have the least amount of screw ups before getting it right. Failure hurts. Why oh why go through it unnecessarily? I look at my kids weekly, after another screw up, and go, "Hey look, I've never done this before."

It's true. I've never lived this day before, raised an almost 10 year old girl like my oldest, or raised any other kid like my other kids.

So the most tempting thing to do would be to tell myself to stop keeping track. I could tell you the same thing. Stop keeping track. Just live. There's only one problem. We can't seem to do it. Sure, some are better than others at it, but at some point do you ever look at something you've done or said, and think, "Really? Again?"

I am beginning to think there is a reason we keep track. God keeps track. For those in Christ, that doesn't have to be a scary thing. And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of  your flesh, God made alive together with Him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This He set aside, nailing it to the cross. -Colossians 2:13-14

I believe the "keeping track" part of us is part of God's character in us. The distortion and sin comes in when we use it to focus on ourselves or others. Job kept track of his good works, his faithfulness. God kept track of His own faithfulness, His own greatness. God won out big time. (Job 40-41)

I'm not going to tell you to stop keeping track. I will say that we need to redirect that very natural tendency toward a much more Worthy Subject. Let's keep our eyes fixed on the Author and Perfector of our faith- let's keep track of His faithfulness. His deliverance. His mercy.

We don't need to keep track of ourselves- He does that already. You know when I sit and when I rise... Psalm 139. 

And He does it in perfect love.

How would we live if we just kept our eyes on all the ways God shows us His love, namely in Christ, and stopped worrying about doing it all just right? It would be a messier life for sure, but so much larger than what we can fit into our safe little boxes.

So, can we make a deal? How about when we make mistakes or just blatantly bad choices, instead of putting another tally under our own "screw up" column, we put the tally under God's column- and count on Him to be faithful and forgiving? It will make all the difference.

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* By the way, if you know what I did wrong with the coconut oil, or know of some inexpensive unscented products, I'd be so grateful if you shared your wisdom with me. :)

Daily Bread When Bullies Barge {This Day Thursday}

"Mom, were you ever bullied?"

I racked my brain. "I don't remember" was the best answer I could come up with for my daughter. Her father had stories to tell of being bullied. I really didn't. Maybe I was the minority. I was a Navy brat who moved every three years. I didn't have time to be bullied. I hung out with decent kids, was active in sports and music. Maybe I avoided the bullying issue.

Then I remembered. It was middle school. There was a verbal skirmish on the bus. I don't remember exactly what was said, but I made it home in tears because a boy dared to insult my mother. To which my mother responded, "But, Honey, why are you upset? He doesn't even know me." A phone call was made to his mom and he had to apologize to me.

Then there was the boy who tripped me on the soccer field. I was humiliated and he was standing over me laughing. I knocked him over, a fight started and we both landed in the principal's office. It was this kid's third strike. I was a good kid just sticking up for myself. I was released. He was suspended.

I'm sure if I thought hard enough I could recall other fights and cruel words, but I don't have the energy for that.

Because this day I need wisdom. Because this day my daughter is talking to her guidance counselor about her own bully.

Because this day I ask the Father for my daily bread, and He supplies.

I was so excited to start this series: This Day Thursday. Wasn't planning on bullying starting the subject matter, but that's how things happen and in all things God works for the good of those who love him.

We've all been bullied- if not by physical human beings then at least by the lying devil. And when that happens, there is a part of me that rebels against Sunday School answers. Not because they are wrong. Not because they are not applicable. Some are actually really wise words and to be considered carefully. But because formulas for life don't always work the way we think they should. When people tell you that if you pray enough and read enough and thank God for Jesus enough then everything will be sunshine and roses, but that just doesn't cut it. Not from my experience. Those things are all good, but "enough" is the question mark that leaves us with uncertainty. Maybe if things are going wrong, then I am not doing enough.

I prayed and pondered the other night about why I am so rebellious against textbook answers, and I think it is because there are so many examples in the Bible of righteous holy people having a really really hard time. They made the cut to appear in the Bible, and they couldn't even keep it together! They prayed day and night and still struggled with insecurity, infertility, grief, exhaustion, marital problems, parenting issues, frustration, etc. They talked with Jesus face to face and still struggled with doubt and fear. You name it- someone in the Bible dealt with it.

Life was hard then and it is hard now, and if we are relying on being "enough" we're screwed.

As I prayed, Jesus' words came back to mind:

"Pray then like this:

Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be your name.

Your kingdom come,

your will be done,

    on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us our debts,

    as we also have forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation,

    but deliver us from evil.^"

^{(Matthew 6:9-13, emphasis mine)}

^{Even Jesus prayed for the Father's provision. Some people see it as just another formula, but it is so much more. It is a prayer that confesses aloud, I am not. enough. I need you. "Give us this day our daily bread..." I need you everyday. Not just every day- this day.}

I need strength this day. I need energy this day. I need patience this day. I need joy this day. I need peace this day. I need ________ this day. I need the Bread of Life this day.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, 

for I am gentle and lowly in heart, 

and you will find rest for your souls.  

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30

This day I need wisdom and patience in spades. Maybe you are in the same boat. Over the next months This Day Thursday will address people in the Bible who struggled with the same things we do. People who would have responded to my poll in the same way you did on Facebook. And we will watch how God delivers. How He heals and helps and loves and cares. 

Because when we are not enough, He is always enough. And He invites us this day to ask Him for all we need. Praise Him for His amazing grace and love. We have such a fantastic God!

For All That He Is {GratiTuesday}

Ever read an article about a health issue and think wow that sounds like so-and-so, and then you visit your health care provider and they diagnose you with that thing that you thought applied to everyone but you?

I'll just assume yes for the moment. And say: Me too.

So was a pretty major happy point of last week. (Other than my husband having a marvelous and inspirational time at a conference and making it home safely.)

Because there is comfort in having someone look you in the eye and tell you that you aren't crazy for your blood pressure spiking when your all your children talk in the same house, in the same room, at the same time. And there is comfort in friends checking up on you because you finally admit out loud that you are stressed and need to say no because you are just tired of being a monster. And there is comfort in being held.

There is comfort in a professional writer telling me that I am a writer so act like it. And there is comfort in another professional mom writer telling me it's ok to cry because motherhood is like negotiating with tiny terrorists, only harder.

There is comfort in the surrender.When I tell God the honest truth that I am looking for the minimum. How much do I need to read, pray, write, sing to Him to just make everything ok? Twenty minutes before I start the day? A quick prayer before the I want's and I need's swallow my energy and patience?

Ok. That is all I am looking for. But that is not what God offers. He offers joy. Joy to the full. So a few mornings ago, I planned to climb the verses in the Psalms rung by rung out of my pit of exhaustion and I made it three verses before I saw Psalm 5:3.

O Lord, in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch. 

About that time Pandora started playing one of my new most favoritest songs by Rend Collective:

All that I am for all that You Are, my Lord.

All that I have for all that You Are.

You're the pearl beyond price, greater than life.

All that I am for all that You Are.

Each morning is a surrender. Sacrifice it all. The fatigue. The plans. Give it all to the Lord- my Lord. Your Lord.

And then He does just the most amazing thing. He gives us Himself.

"Watch this," He says. And He takes the tired. He takes the schedules. Plans. Words. He infuses them with His Spirit, His love. He transforms it with His presence. He gives peacecomfortjoy without measure. He does what we would do for our own children whenever possible. What love. What treasure. Because He treasures us. He treasures you.

Lord, 

Surrender 

our ears to Your voice

our eyes to Your presence

our hands to Your work

our mouths to Your praise

our feet to Your will

our minds to Your wisdom

our hearts to Your love.

Happy, joy-full week to you all!

Why 2014 Needs to Begin With an F Word

Her face was solemn as she approached me those few minutes before the worship service began. I sat at the piano, running over the order of service in my head and trying to keep it together. Our pianist is out of commission with a shattered elbow, which leaves me.

She spoke softly,"Mom..." So seriously, "[Your son] said the F word."

I can't tell you what I was thinking at that point. Survival mode and repeated misinformation about the severity of words with that particular initial kept me calm.

"Okaaaayyy. What's the 'f word?'"

She moved closer to my ear and whispered, "friggin."

I breathed a sigh of relief- that's not my word. I'm not saying I'm too good for it. I'm saying it's not part of my repertoire. I called the boy down from the balcony and he knew he'd done wrong before he got to the piano. Problem solved.

I'm no stranger to blogging about f-words. But there is one f-word I'm just ready to kick to the curb.

Fear.

So my word for the year is FEARLESS. Another F word. A word that I am looking forward to exploring at length in the scriptures.

Because for far too long I have let my knowledge of the evil in the hearts of mEn eclipse my confidence in the power of God.

Because FEARLESS makes a terrific acrostic to describe the One who makes me fearless, as well as the reasons He gives me for being fearless. Really. Take the word and use each letter to describe something you know about God. Words pop up like Father, faithful, forgiving, everlasting, eternal, alive, awesome, Alpha, relentless, rescuer,radical, Love, Life, Light, empathetic, everything, Savior, salvation, shelter, Shepherd.

It's EXCITING!

Then take those same letters and describe yourself in terms of being His child.

A-MAZING!

Where is the fear? It's drowned in the awesome that is our God.

And I'm also thinking a new graphic or button would be perfect for the occasion, but you know- that takes time. So I'll get around to it. For now, this will do:

The Lord is my light and my salvation;

whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life; 

of whom shall I be afraid?

Psalm 27:1

Please join me on this trip- even if you don't find fear to be such a ferocious enemy. There is just so much to be gained when we get together and dig into what our God can do! And while I don't fight anything nearly as fantastic as fire-breathing dragons, I'm not so naive as to think the thief isn't daily coming into my little world to steal and destroy. But our God is so much bigger. SO MUCH! It is my prayer that this year holds everything we could possibly need to grow closer to the Lord- namely, Him. God bless you all!

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It's not Wednesday. Nor does my post begin with three words, but I'm linking up anyway! 

Rats in the Cellar and the Strong-Willed Child

Shortly after becoming pregnant with our second child, I decided to get to the library and check out some more parenting books. This new endeavor would naturally take more parenting skills that I had yet to develop. I perused the shelves, in search of any of the books I had seen in the bookstore, but was too cheap to buy, until one book caught my eye. I snatched it up, took it home, and set to reading.

 

The name of the book, The New Strong-Willed Child by Dr. James Dobson. After all, other than some clinging issues, our first was a rather compliant child, but I couldn't afford to take any chances. I needed to be "prepared" in the eventuality that this second one was more headstrong.

 

I read the first chapter. The second. Then quit. It freaked me out. A young mother, I was already struggling with the idea that I would be capable of loving another child as much as the one I already had. If this second child acted like any of the case studies in Dr. Dobson's book, I was petrified that I wouldn't love the child at all. Plus, it just looked like so much work to love that kind of child. And mothering one obedient child was tiring enough.

 

Our second, a son, had issues like every other kid, but being strong-willed wasn't one of them. Antagonizing, anxious, goofy, sensitive- he's all of those. Strong-willed? Not really.

 

Then I had the privilege of raising a third child. For this child I prayed. And God let me have it. I wonder why Dobson's book doesn't grace our shelves as a source of constant wisdom.

 

 

 

You've gathered it from previous posts. She's our spit-fire. Our "wild card." Jekyll and Hyde. Time-bomb. She's even been referred to (lovingly) as Sybil on a couple occasions.

 

After a series of hard days this past week, I finally got around to asking people to pray for me as I navigate this relationship. The switch she flips between happy and irate was on a hair-trigger, and so was mine. It was rough and I was coming unglued.

 

It was her fault, I believed in the heat of the moment. I couldn't possibly be expected to respond civilly when she was always catching me off guard. But too much musing in bed revealed what I knew to be true. It was on me.

 

It reminded me of a point C.S. Lewis made in Mere Christianity. (Which is amazing, considering this morning I went into the basement to grab something, only to stare blankly at the overflowing shelf, completely lost as to what it was I needed. I headed back upstairs. Bingo. Paper plates. I chanted "paper plates" the whole way back down.)

 

"On the other hand, surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of man he is? Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth? If there are rats in the cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly. But the suddenness does not create the rats: it only prevents them from hiding. In the same way the suddenness of the provocation does not make me an ill-tempered man: it only shows me what an ill-tempered man I am." Mere Christianity, Book 4, Chapter 7

 

So I am embarking on a thankfulness journey, again. Not because it is November. Not even really of my own will. "After the first few steps in the Christian life we realize that everything which really needs to be done in our souls can be done only by God." Mere Christianity, Book 4, Chapter 7

 

It is starting because of this relentless love. Turns out, I can love a strong-willed child. No matter how long their season of stubbornness lasts.

 

And that's not on me, or in me. I have the rats of selfishness and anger running around in my cellar.

 

The relentless love begins, continues, and ends with God. I'm the strong-willed, weak-willed, disobedient, fickle child. And yet He rejoices in me. He delights in me. He loves me and He even likes me.

 

He rejoices in us. He strengthens us. He makes us new. He shines the light of His love into the cellars of our souls, and doesn't recoil at the rats.

 

Again and again and again.

 

And there is one person who reminds me of that day after day- my third-born. God will show me the good. Give grace to our short-comings. And if the only thing I see at the end of the day besides my regrets and her tantrums is His relentless forgiveness, then that's a good day.

 

Pray for me in this please!

If there are any prayer requests you have, please message me at my Facebook page!

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Today I am linking up with the fabulous writers at Faith Filled Friday! Click on the link and join us! Write, read, enjoy:)

5 Ways to Keep Your Joy When the World is Falling Apart (Messy Monday)

It's a season of preparation around here. Preparing for what, I'm not sure, but the lack of drama and trauma in our personal lives is a welcome gift. Some may call it a season of peace, and I wouldn't disagree with that (those who know the insanity of our house, feel free to chuckle at that). Still, preparation implies expectancy and readiness, and I've lived long enough to see the seasons change. It's a time to prepare.

 

That's not to say there's not some serious soul-shaking circumstances going on in the lives of those close to me. There's a time for everything. We've read Ecclesiastes. Sung with The Byrds. Wept, laughed, mourned, danced. So, even in my season of relative peace, I still manage to fret. To get bogged down with multitudes of crazy and overwhelming issues around me.

 

In all those seasons, sometimes I forget that there's one season that remains constant:

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!" Phil 4:4

 

It's time to fight for joy.

 

In the face of persecution, bride burning, divorce, human trafficking, death, that attitude doesn't just happen. It takes some deliberate effort. It is a gift of the Lord to be sure, and He equips us to receive it. But it's like exercise- if you don't use it, you lose it.

 

So, if you are looking for some exercises to help strengthen your joy muscles, here are five ways to seek joy where it may be found:

 

1. Read. I know- bo-ring. There are some totally rad Christian authors out there that just rock. I yell "yes!" when I read them. Underline like a madwoman. Still, it ain't nothing compared to the Bible. Having a hard time finding joy and needing a place to start? Here is a handful of passages:

Phil 3-4; 2 Corinthians 5; John 14-17; Psalm 18; Psalm 138.

 

2. Pray. Right- I'm sure this is another shocker for you. C'mon, Lauren. Read the Bible and pray. Surely you can come up with something more exciting. Actually, no. You can read and pray standing on your head if you want to make it more demanding, but you won't find anything as effective as talking with the Lord and hearing His Word.

 

I had a friend ask me once, "How do you know when you have prayed for something long enough? When do you just need to let it go?" Well, it's different for everyone and every circumstance, but Luke 18:1-8 gives us a pretty clear answer:

And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart. ² He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor respected man. ³ And there was a widow in that city who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Give me justice against my adversary.’ ⁴ For a while he refused, but afterward he said to himself, ‘Though I neither fear God nor respect man, ⁵ yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual coming.’” ⁶ And the Lord said, “Hear what the unrighteous judge says. ⁷ And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? ⁸ I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

Pray with open eyes. He will deliver you.

 

If you have a hard time remembering to pray- give yourself a visual or audial aid. A clock chiming. Stopping at a red light. A text message notice. A song. When you hear or see your cue, start praying.

 

3. Let go and LOVE- Of course taking time to think of others takes your mind off your own problems, but this is more than that. So often we are afraid to love others because we don't think it will make a difference, or we will look foolish. Or there is this pressure to somehow win them to Christ. Here' the deal: Christ didn't command us to win anyone. He commanded us to love everyone. He alone is the winner of souls, and that frees us up to love.

Imagine just showing someone love without strings attached. No worries over reputation. No pressure. Just a plate of cookies and a smile. Brainstorm ways to love a new person in a new way. You can't solve every world problem, but you can love another person.

4. Get Creative- David wrote psalms, rain or shine. We each have a deep-seeded creativity planted by the Master Creator. It's cathartic. Turn on the music. Sing. Dance. Even if you're horrible at them. Bake or cook. Invent. Draw. Write. Photograph. And give it as a gift to God. This is for you, Lord. It's not much. But it's Yours.

 

5. Praise. Praise. Praise.- Pause and remember the good things God has done, is doing. And praise Him for it. Out loud. Really. Say it out loud. May be awkward. You might want to put in your earbuds and do it so people will think you are just singing along with the music. Vocalize it. Take it from your head and put it in your whole body. Write it down. Share it. Check out Phil 3-4 again. Give thanks all the time.

 

And when all this seems like a bit too much to chew, the struggle for joy is just too hard, Phil 4:4-9- the Rejoice in the Lord Always passage- gets that, and gives us three promises to cling to. Hold fast to them and know you are never alone.

 

The Lord is at hand. (v. 5)

 

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (v. 7)

 

The God of peace will be with you. (v. 9)

 



 

Not An Underdog

You know, I can go a whole week with about 6 three-word sequences bouncing around in my brain, confident that all of them are "the one," and then it gets to Wednesday morning and I am stumped. Then this morning, I rebelled against the little voice that told me, "Don't do it. Don't check Facebook first thing in the morning. Never a good idea. Don't do it!"

I checked Facebook.

And read something just totally perfect for today!

In your FACE, little voice!

Here's the disclaimer, though: It starts off talking about baseball. Chances are, if you are anything like me, you are now debating whether or not it is worth it to read through whole post because you don't really care about baseball. I like baseball, but I totally tune out on things I don't get or care about. Like, math. But it is TOTALLY worth it, so keep reading. It is totally going to revolutionize how I live this day, and I hope it does the same for you, so stick with it.

I'm a St. Louis Cardinals Fan. I embraced it pretty much as soon as I met my husband, and I haven't regretted it since. They are good. But here's the thing- when they manage to make it into the post-season, on their way to the World Series, they are often ranked last, or thereabouts. Not always, but often. The teams they play just have more going for them than we do. But we still manage to pull out wins and leave a trail of confused and dejected "better" teams in our wake.

Now I have some friends who, well, I won't say hate, but they have a vehement dislike for my Cardinals. And that's fine, especially because my team is in the National League Championship Series, and theirs, well, aren't.

And since Facebook is just about the easiest, and most public, medium on which to vent our most impassioned opinions, they voice theirs quite often. I get it, and I am totally cool with it. This morning, one anti-Cardinal friend of mine (and I say "friend," because he is indeed a friend, and team affiliation is pretty low on my "friendship deal-breakers list") made sure us Cards fans were put in our place: "You're not an underdog, you're not the little engine that no one believed in, you're just a good team that has a lot of good players."

Listen up, Christians! Because the message is the same for us!

You are not an underdog.

We all like the Cinderella stories because something deep down inside convinces us that we are the Cinderella too, but the Bible has a different message for us believers.

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

Romans 8:37

The "him who loved us," that's Jesus. And I'm pretty sure people thought He was the underdog too. I mean, look at Him. A man v. death. We've seen that about a billion times, and death always wins out.

Only, not with Jesus. He's clutch. Not only did He resurrect others- He was resurrected HIMSELF. Death is just an impotent bumblebee without his stinger.

And get this, He gives His victory to us-

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

John 1:12

 

Now I'm not saying it's all lollipops and lemon drops for Jesus-lovers, but we aren't doomed. Not sure how it's all going to go down, but the Bible gives us the best spoiler alert E-VER.

 

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.

Romans 6:5

 

What does that mean for us when life today could be better? It means we face our struggles with an attitude of victory. Because those things don't own us, God does. And when those problems are nothing but dust flying into oblivion behind us on our road of life, we are the ones who are going to last forever.

 

 

In short, we are more than conquerors.

 

We aren't just people who know someday we will be with Jesus. We are people who live that out today. We're not going to wait for the joy and hope. We are conquerors right this very second. Because, after all, the story isn't really about us anyway. It's about Him.

 

Amen?

 

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Today's post was a part of a series through Simply Beth, called Three Word Wednesday. Come join us!

 



Ordinary

 

“It never failed to amaze me how the most ordinary day could be catapulted 

into the extraordinary in the blink of an eye.” 
― Jodi Picoult, Handle With Care

 

She sprawls, eyes wide and smiling. One foot, then the next. A little cotton sock, flowered pink, stretched over five chubby toes, the ball, the heel, the foot. She wriggles, all smiles. I take my index finger, gently stroke it down the center of her sole. And in return, her squeals stroke my soul as well.

 

Best. job. ever.

 

So ordinary, yet I wonder at how her laughter lifts me so, and if God perchance feels that delight when we laugh at His playfulness. At His gifts of joy.

 

More time. More day. More ordinary. Lunch at school. 6 year old fingers clutch my sleeve tightly as he smiles and points to his friends, "She's here! My mom is here!" All that time that has flown by in a gust of ordinary, but I'm given the gift of stopping, sharing, eating beef and bean nachos with some of the most remarkable kindergarteners in the world. Time for recess. Oh I miss that! Watching the boy play soccer, the girl play basketball, and the hordes of children not from my womb, yet in whose world I get to play a part. Even just a smile.

 

The weather is not ordinary. Warm for October. So we take advantage of a night when everyone is home, and resolve to play basketball at the church.

 

Lost shoes. Lost balls. Lost minds. Lost time. But we are out the door, and within 15 minutes every single child has cried, except one. The toddler, for whom crying is the primary language, is the only one who doesn't bawl about something, or everything.

 

The crying is sprinkled with intermittent laughter, berry picking, applause.

We travel home in the sunset...

 

She's three, but she sees my phone and hears the clicks and understands. Her perspective just slightly off from mine, she sees what I miss.

 

"Are you taking a picture of the heart tree, Mom?"

 

I am now.

 

 

And as we race back to the house, over the cracked sidewalk, hampered by tiny toddling feet and clutching fingers, I carry the balls and the little one up the driveway, and I see that the preschooler must have been too spent from the evening's recreation to carry her doll all the way inside.

 

Or even to keep her completely dressed.

 

I laugh, head shaking. Completely tickled.

 



Tickling, that sensitivity to touch, it's not just physical.

 

When I am overcome by the grumps and growls of life, I have lost touch with my Maker. Become blind and calloused to His presence in the day to day. To be sensitive to the One who touches us in the ordinary is a gift, and an everyday goal.

 

Today I am praying you will see and feel Him- especially in your ordinary.

 

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Joining Lisa-Jo Baker, and other brave and brilliant writers, today for Five Minute Friday. Though I confess, this took a bit longer than 5 minutes... If you'd like to read other perspectives on the prompt "Ordinary," or want to join us in the fun, just click on the button to the bottom right!

 

F Words We All Can Appreciate

Turn Off the TV Week is kicking my behind. Not at all because I want to watch TV, but because there is some stable comfort in knowing that for a half hour each morning I will have some time to collect thoughts and perhaps blog. We miss you, Daniel Tiger... This is the kind of post I write when you are gone for three days...

Our educationally neglected third child and I have begun alphabet work. I say educationally neglected because for the first 2-3 years of the older two children's lives I was the picture of spiritual education. The third kid, she'll pick it up along the way. God help the fourth.

I admit there are a couple teaching points that make me tee-hee like a grade-schooler. The first- getting to the "it" endings in a rhyming lesson. The second one I hadn't thought too much about until today.

The letter F.

Now the girl is 3, and a bit precocious, so we play this school stuff loosely. A brown cinderblock wall makes a fabulous chalkboard, so we get to work making our "F Word" Wall. F words all over the place. You can laugh if you want. It's ok. I said F words a lot today, and the child in me giggles as I type that.

The F says ffff. We repeat. We draw, color, laugh. I search for just the right F word. Family, Frown, Fun, Flowers, Feet, Farm, Four, Five... She hears the clues and guesses the F word and laughs again.

Good times- when F words are safe.

I can't avoid the F word forever, I know. She'll hear it, learn it, possibly say it. She'll learn F words that will cause more pain than profanity.

Like failure.

And fear.

The mother in me wants to protect her from those words. Whisk her away like a sleeping beauty, so she'll never feel the prick of words that kill spirits. Failure. Fear.

I can't do it, though. For a flower to bloom, must it not cease to be just a seed? Must it not break open? And this little princess, she has been born not of perishable seed, but imperishable.

There's an F word for you.

Forgiven.

Free.

Found. Forever found.

I'm not called to remove God's precious child from a world of hurt, but to prepare and equip her for the victory that is hers in Jesus Christ. I am called to gift her with words, and The Word, like battle armor. In fact, Ephesians 6 gives a few F words I can appreciate...

Finally- Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might.

Flesh- For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

Firm-Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.

Fastened- Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness,

Feet- ...and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace.

Faith- In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one

¹⁷ and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, ¹⁸ praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, ¹⁹ and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, ²⁰ for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.

Then one day, my dear ones will be able to confess with King David that there is an F word they can't help but proclaim...

 

I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart; I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation.

Psalm 40:10

Five Minute Friday: Comfort

Five Minute Friday and Lisa-Jo Baker has this new prompt for us to write on. No editing. No going back. Just five minutes and we'll see what comes out:

Comfort

GO

Comfort is not neutral. It's hot or cold. Either a mother's lap to crawl into. Or an earthly trap to be avoided lest it distract us from our true home.

Christians, don't get comfortable. Anything but that.

But then I think of my discomfort. Not the little drownings of an Old Adam, but those things that linger. That overwhelm. Like, that Tylenol canNOT kick in fast enough, and in between throbs I hear cries, and pleading, and demands, and I am overwhelmed by discomfort.

There is that kind of discomfort.

Then there is the other kind- the kind that makes you question. The kind that makes you feel like maybe you don't really belong here at all. That maybe God's plan isn't what you had in mind. That maybe there is something else, and you will have to trust Him to get you there.

That is the discomfort that leads to true Comfort.

And when you journey through with thankful heart, and trusting feet, then you aren't perhaps comfortable, but more like comfort-able.

2 Corinthians gives a promise to believers. God is a Comforter.  He is comfort-able, and comfort-willing, and when He has completed His work of comfort in us for this season, we too will be comfort-able and comfort-willing to help those around us, because we will get it.

As we have shared in Christ's sufferings, we will also share in His comfort.

And who couldn't use a bit of that news?

STOP


If you'd like to join the writers at Five Minute Friday, just click here or at the button on the bottom right.

If you are finding yourself overwhelmed by life right now and would like to take a moment and be overwhelmed by the Lord, Overwhelmed by Big Daddy Weave can help;)

Dear Daughter

Giggles erupted from the back seat of the truck, sending laughter spewing into the air and floating down all over me.

Three absolutely adorable boys chatted behind me as we made our way to the last soccer game of the season, and I smiled. Only one of the boys was my son, the other two being brothers and Grady's teammates. The picture of polite Iowa boys, and just as cute as the dickens.

I can't help it, I'm a mom. Their family has three boys and one girl. We have three girls and one boy. And those boys are all around our girls' ages. I know it's silly, but moms match their kids up with other kids- especially cute, sweet ones. I mentally figured out how that would look in my head.

My mind took me to a comfortable place only to be stirred by one thought, "Pray for their spouses." You've heard those amazing prayer stories- someone was in trouble and exactly at that moment another person was moved to pray for them, and everything turned out fine. Not sure that was what this was, but right then and there I prayed for my future sons.

Those prayers came more quickly than any prayer I had for my son's future wife. Not because he is still my boy, I don't think. Maybe because I know just how important and difficult it is to find a godly man, so there is an urgency in that prayer.

But tonight I sat and pondered the woman my son will marry. What she looks like now- if she is even here yet. Her family, her childhood, her adolescence. If you've never spent the time really thinking and praying about the future relationships of your children (note: I did not say "worrying"), it is a worthwhile endeavor. So, here is my prayer for you, Future Daughter-in-law, future friends of my kids that I will no doubt play "mom" to, and you little girls under my roof.

Dear Daughter,

May I first say you are beautiful. Seriously. Stunning and gorgeous and so incredibly valuable. I pray you know that. You are amazing.

Young woman whom my son will choose, I pray for you so hard. I want to pray for your family, your upbringing, your time with the Lord, your health- but I've learned enough from this world that what really matters is your heart. So that is what captivates me in prayer- the condition of your heart. All the heartbreak the world would give you only tills the heart in which the seed of faith is planted. And so I pray that your heart is ready and fertile, and that your faith is growing up into maturity. Not so that you can be ready in my eyes to marry my son. But because I love you.

I pray for your spirit.  But the fruit of the Spirit is

love- that you would know it truly as the Lord lavishes, & accept it fully when my boy offers it,

 joy- that you would know what it is to be thankful and so find joy in every circumstance,

 peace- that you would know where to turn when trials abound and so find peace in God alone,

patience- that you would develop humor to be patient with people like me, who love imperfectly,

kindness- that you would witness the kindness of Christ in those around you,

goodness- that you would possess the courage to live out the goodness found only in God,

faithfulness- that you would know God's faithfulness and display it in your life no matter what, 

gentleness- that you would know the Christ-like love that forgives and opens hearts to healing,

self-control- that you would wait on the Lord;

against such things there is no law. (Gal. 5:22-23)

I pray for you, Daughter, whether we have met or not because, Sweet Child, you belong to the Lord. And believe me, He loves you so very much.