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?

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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;)

Destiny and Motherhood: Why I Choose to Keep a Messy House

Sometimes I really relate to the donkey the disciples fetched for the Lord Jesus.

Because I become completely untied, and it is not until I ask why that I hear their response: Because the Lord has need of it. (Luke 19:31)

I just absolutely love my coffee mornings. A few friends come over and we drink our beverages and chat about what's happening in our lives and town and world. We solve some problems. Sometimes.

Just yesterday I led those dear friends around the parsonage that may or may not be getting a facelift. I explained the vision, salting my speech with excitement over what could be.

And peppering it with apologies. Not one room of my house is clean. Not one. Passable maybe, but not clean.

Did my friends demand excuses and apologies? Absolutely not. Did they offer judgment and condemnation for the clutter? No way. If they had, would it have depleted the worth of my personal stock? Nope.

But the apologizing- it just gets exhausting. My mind and heart and soul are squished into a sorry little box as if that is all there is by which to measure my worth, and I become enslaved.

Enslaved to a house. I piece of real estate.

I become a victim.

Yesterday I changed that. You know what, I'm not a victim. And for any mothers or fathers out there who are enslaved to the image of being "put together," neither are you.

As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God! Psalm 40:17

The Lord of the universe thinks and takes action to benefit us poor, needy souls. We are victors!

 

But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Cor 15:57

 

You know what else? This unshowered, sweatpant wearing, tired mom has a destiny. Really- even me. And if I have a destiny, you can bet every single person out there has one too.

 

No doubt the cleanliness of my house may play a role in the fulfillment of God's destiny for me, but as a means- not an end. I will choose to see it that way. I will look to the end goal.

 

So if you happen to stumble into my house mind your step, and know that instead of devoting my blood, sweat and tears to wiping up every muddy shoeprint, fishing out every bobby pin from the carpet, and putting every doll in its age appropriate bin (assuming I could find said bin), I have chosen instead to tend to the following responsibilities:

 

* Kissing scraped knees

* Making waffles

* Sorting clothes along with the kids

* Reading

* Running in the sunshine

* Playing soccer with the kids

* Going to the park

* Thawing meat for supper

* Changing diapers

* Tying shoes

* Brushing hair

* Wiping tears

* Brushing teeth

* Coloring

* Wrestling on the floor

* Dating my husband

* Dating my children

* Doing puzzles

* Writing

* Teaching

* Visiting

* Volunteering

* Praying, praying, praying

* Encouraging

* Loving

* Laughing

* Spending time, not wasting it.

 

* Various and Sundry other tasks that demand an inordinate amount of time and energy, and are supremely more important.

 

Because, as a good friend assured me: One day the kids will be gone, the house will be clean and quiet, and you'll miss the mess.

 

Happy Early Mother's Day.

 

Luke 10: ³⁸ Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. ³⁹ And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. ⁴⁰ But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” ⁴¹ But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, ⁴² but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

Messy Monday: A Rescue in the Meantime

To just sit and wait. It seems... wrong.

 

Especially when you have a carload of kids and you feel like you are "on the clock" in a way.

 

So, the other day I made the most of our time. Scotty had a shut-in woman to visit in a town 30 miles away, but hey, that town had several stores we don't have so most of the family tagged along. As Scott administered pastoral care I focused more on the temporal care- like dog food and produce.

 

After completing the bulk of my errands, the kiddos and I headed back to the assisted living home to wait for Daddy to come out.

 

In the meantime I had to find something to do. Right? I mean, I couldn't just sit there. But what to do?

 

I looked down and had my answer...

 

 

How my purse got so full of junk, I'll never know- especially since I never use two bags two days in a row. No idea why. I just have a bunch of bags, and I change them like clothes- making organization and finding that tube of lipstick for church a bit difficult.

 

So I sat and I rifled through the outdated and obsolete, and just plain odd. I cleared it out. Most of it. And how many times did I just ask, Why?

 

Why do I hold on to this stuff?

 

Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in deep mire, where there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me. ~Psalm 69:1-2

 

If I dove into my conscience, my soul, like this overstuffed purse, when would I reach the bottom?

 

My purse was created to hold necessities- not junk.

 

Same with my heart.

 

So, what is necessary?

 

But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:41-42

 

 

 And he said to them, “O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.

Luke 24:25-27

 

And Paul went in, as was his custom, and on three Sabbath days he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead, and saying, “This Jesus, whom I proclaim to you, is the Christ.” And some of them were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, as did a great many of the devout Greeks and not a few of the leading women.

Acts 17:2-4

 

 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.  In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials,  so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

1 Peter 1:3-7

 

The Lord sits with me in the quiet meantimes, and together we rifle through the recesses and pockets of my heart.

 

And He is merciful and gracious as He reveals those things I keep that are not necessary.

 

A wrong word from my mouth spoken to a friend.

 

And vice versa.

 

Those hurts and aches that I keep a receipt of, and why? To remember?

 

To have proof?

 

To log in my spiritual register? A debt I owe. A debt I've paid.

 

...and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.

 

And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt.

~Matthew 18:27

 

 

To hold or be held?

 

To be captive or set free from the muck and mire to which we cling?

 

To sink or swim?

 

Praise be to the Lord alone, who sits beside us and removes what should not remain, time and time again, so that in the end all that remains is Himself - a wallet full of grace and forgiveness, and a means to call on Him any time day or night- with minutes unlimited.



Five Minute Friday: Brave

It's time for another Five Minute Friday! Lisa-Jo Baker and the gang are spending 5 minutes writing bravely. No editing or going back- nothing like that. You link up, read other wonderful writers, encourage and be encouraged. It's great fun actually. Join us!

 

Today's Prompt: Brave

 

Brave.

That’s a word for the greats.

For the Sabina Wurmbrands who, because of their Jewish Christian allegiance to the One True God, harbored and nutured the very Nazis that killed their own family members.

To forgive is brave.

To obey God is the ultimate act of bravery.

To obey, when the cards are stacked against you- that is brave. I still muddle around in my head- surely Christ was brave. Surely, when every sign pointed to defeat, He obeyed.

"[The Enemy] wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles.... Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys."
~ The Screwtape Letters

To walk. Day in and out. Are you not brave?

When you approach the budding toddler to remove the pen from her hand as she waddles across the room, knowing full well the fit to be thrown.

Is that not brave?

When you grab the brush, and the young one sees you coming and high-tails it to the corner of the room, crying before a bristles even touches her. And you know this is going to be one tangle-fest, but you brush anyway.

Is that not brave?

When you wake in the night to comfort a child whose room is littered with toys like landmines for your feet.

Is that not brave?

Motherhood, parenthood. That is a brave endeavor when accomplished and grown into maturity through the working of God’s purposes in your life.

And each act of bravery grows obedience. And each act of obedience grows bravery. Until our lives are one glorious cycle of brave obedience day after day. In the little things and big.

Because bravery is the root and fruit of an obedient life planted in God’s purpose.

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.