Friday's Free Advice

We have a lot of leaders in our home.  Inevitably, there is a constant battle to be the line leader (it doesn’t matter if we’re just walking to a different room…everyone wants to be first).  My children will literally tackle each other in order to claim this coveted position.  This morning a genius moment of mommy creativity flashed in my mind.  As Jackson was bringing up the rear heading downstairs for breakfast, I could tell he was on the brink of a meltdown.  Then it dawned on me…Jackson wasn’t last…Jackson was…THE CABOOSE!  I told him, with excitement brimming from my voice, “Jackson!  You get to be THE CABOOSE!”  He looked questioningly at me, and I repeated, “Jackson…YOU get to be THE CABOOSE!”  His whole face lighted up.  He marched boldly down the stairs and proclaimed to his sisters, dad, and all of creation, “I’m the CADOOSE!  Look at me!”   

Sometimes it’s as simple as changing our perspective. 

There are nights when I will lay my head down on my pillow and feel like I botched every single item on my list of responsibilities.  I can beat myself to a pulp for something I said, or didn’t say; for not spending enough quality time with each of my children, or allowing myself to feel overwhelmed because I don’t think who I am is enough. 

In these quiet moments I am learning to pause and ask God to help me look on my life with a fresh perspective.  I ask him to help me see clearly those areas where I need to humble myself and make adjustments, and then release those things that are out of my control.  I ask him to help me accept the fact that I can’t do everything, and teach me to walk boldly in his perfection, because I am never going to be perfect.  I ask him to give me a fresh perspective, a fresh grasp of his grace and a fresh appreciation for others.

And he always does.  I find that I am asking God for a healthy dose of new perspective a lot these days.  I can’t be a wife, mother, daughter, friend and leader without him.  Where I am weak, he is my superwoman strength, enabling me to leap tall heaps of laundry and dirty dishes in a single bound.  And when my perspective is off, he is faithful to come to my rescue every. single. time.

Friday’s Free Advice:  If you are feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders and it is crushing you, maybe it’s time to stop and ask God to give you a change of perspective in your situation.  I was talking to a friend recently, and for her it was as simple as a good night’s rest.  It is amazing what a little change in perspective can do for a soul!

Sweet Spot

“When life’s biggest disappointments cause a bitterness that you just can’t seem to shake, know that the Lord wants to step in and reveal the miracle of his restoring power in your heart.  He can take your biggest struggle and heartache – the one that causes your chest to ache with frustration – and turn it into the sweet spot on which your spiritual outlook hinges.”    - Priscilla Shirer from her Bible Study, “One In A Million”.

This statement has lingered with me for several days now.  Our current heartache, whatever that might be, is the very thing in which God can, and will, transform into a sweet spot. 

A sweet spot.

When I think of sweet, I think of honey, homemade chocolate chip cookies, kisses from my kiddos, the night Joel proposed to me, the first time I saw my babies on a sonogram, and walking on the beach with sand between my toes.  Those are all marvelous things to me.  The word sweet does not conjure up thoughts of heartache, struggle, and pain.  When I think sweet, I don’t think about a wilderness journey.  Yet, just maybe my perception of sweet is off.  Perhaps the very thing in my life that frustrates and overwhelms me is the very thing that God is using to draw me close to him – causing me to cling to him with all my might.

Life is so multi-dimensional.  There may be clouds hovering over one area while sunlight shines down on another.  Sometimes there are more clouds than sun, and finding a sweet spot is like looking for sugar in a saltshaker.

When we moved into our current home, we had a baby and a two-year-old.  We didn’t need a lot of space, and really couldn’t afford much more than our tiny townhome at the time.  We dreamed big.  We anticipated living in this house for a couple years and then moving on up to something bigger to meet the needs of our growing family.  Then two things happened all around the same time: I found out I was pregnant with Jackson, and the housing market plummeted.  Needless to say, five years later, we are still living in our two-bedroom townhome with no yard.  Believe me, there have been days when I have felt the frustration of this situation so strong and wondered how long will we have to live like this. 

Last fall, as we were settling back into the routine of school, ballet, Bible study, etc, something very powerful occurred to me.  I was putting up what few fall decorations I have and began reflecting on all of the autumn seasons we’ve spent in our home, how each year has been a little different from the last, and just how much life and memories we have lived here: Brooklyn learned to crawl and walk, Jackson was brought home from the hospital to this very house – the only home he’s ever known - miracles witnessed in our kitchen and living room, Christmases, Easter egg hunts, birthday parties, and countless Friday Family Movie Nights.  This little townhome, that sometimes feels like it’s closing in on me, is our home…a very sweet place.  And to my children, it is not a piece of real estate that has depreciated in market value.  It is their home – their sweet spot.  

God has taught me so many things here too.  He’s taught me to think creatively, outside the box, stretching me to find ways to maximize our living space.  He has also taught me to be content, no matter what situation I am in.  I realize that this issue of mine may seem petty and small in comparison to all of the real heartache and sorrow out there in our world.  However, this is one cloud, a piece of the bigger puzzle, revealing that as much as I would love to have a picture-perfect life, not everything will always be picture-perfect.  This little ‘ole house is not something that I simply have to put up with, but it has truly become a sweet spot for me.  I am so grateful that our plans to move on up fell apart, because it has been here, in this townhome, that the most precious moments of my life have been lived…and I really don’t want to move away from that any time soon.

 

Allowing God to turn our biggest disappointments into a sweet spot is not always an easy thing to do, but once we release them into his hands, there can truly be none sweeter.

Psalm 19:9-10

The ordinances of the Lord are sure and altogether righteous.  They are more precious than gold, than much pure gold; they are sweeter than honey, than honey from the comb.

"Do Over" Day

Have you ever wished you could stop, rewind and re-do a moment in time?  I have...pretty much on a regular basis.  This past weekend, especially, I needed a "do over" day. On Saturday morning Sydney managed to wedge her bedroom door shut while she and Jackson were inside.  I couldn't get it open - not even a single budge.  They were trapped.  I body slammed it so many times that I now have a lovely bruise on my left shoulder.  I could hear wailing and screaming coming from the other side of the door.  This is why we have an "open door" policy in our home.  Doors remain open at all times, unless the parents have designated otherwise.  Too many near-loss-of-fingers incidents.  We had to put the open door policy into effect.  On this day in particular, Sydney was getting wild, decided to shut Brooklyn out of the bedroom, and pretty much closed herself in for a thirty minute time-out.

Was I frustrated?  Yes.  I was.  Did I manage this situation in a calm and peaceful manner?  Hmmm....I could have done better.

Stop.  Rewind.  Try again.

Some friends had invited us over to their home for lunch after church yesterday.  We enjoy this family so much, and their girls are the same ages as our girls.  The afternoon was going well until their youngest daughter came running inside from the backyard and announced that Brooklyn had told Jackson to throw dirt on her.  And he did.  My children were on the fast track to cranky-ville, and it was becoming clear that they were suffering from a severe case of nap-deficiency.  Not an excuse for bad behavior, but certainly a contributing factor.

As I was sitting in my friends' living room, holding Jackson and Brooklyn on my lap (both in full blown melt-down mode), singing "Little Mister Roo" all I could think about was, "Can I have a 'do over'?".

Stop.  Rewind.  Try again.

Jackson was up at 3:30 this morning.  His, "Mommy! Mommy!" cries pulled me out of a deep coma.  He needed help going potty.  I couldn't get back to sleep after that.  I laid in my bed thinking about all the things I need to do today, all the things coming up this week, all the things I am running behind in, and how much I wish I could escape to a nice, warm beach somewhere.  Needless to say, when my alarm went off at 5:30 am, I turned it off, rolled over and closed my eyes.

I woke up late.  Bad start to the day.

Stop.  Rewind.  Try again.

Psalm 103:11&12 "For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us."

Romans 4:7&8 "Blessed are they whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered.  Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord will never count against him."

In my world of "high expectations" I really blew it a time or two this weekend.  It is Monday morning, and as I look to the past I fear it has set me up for a less than stellar week.  I wonder if I could do the weekend over, somehow I could set everything right again.  Not so.  "Do overs" are great, when you can actually do something over (like one of my kids waking up on the wrong side of the bed - they get to stop, go back to their room, and try again).  When you can't, there is always the assurance that once forgiven by God all is restored.  We don't have to rewind to try again.  We simply get to start fresh.  Start new. Start over.

So, rather than stop.  Rewind.  Try again.  I am going to stop.  Receive forgiveness.  And start anew.  I think I like this way better than a "do over" day.

Grace For A Budding "Frugalista"

Last week I quickly jotted down a few thoughts on grace.  After three decades plus of serving God, it would appear that my heart has reawakened to the glorious grace he has for me…that he has always had for me.  Where on earth have I been?  Oh, yeah, that’s right…I’ve been over there in the corner, comparing myself to the mom whose five-year-old is learning multiplication while I don’t even understand the directions for Sydney’s first grade math homework.  And wouldn’t you know it, just as I have stepped into the irresistible life of grace, the enemy has been on alert – prepping for that one moment of weakness when he can swoop in and tear me down.   

I spent a weekend get-away with a couple of girlfriends recently.  It was fabulous.  We got out of town, sat around in our sweats (hello…comfy clothes is my love language!), ate scrumptious food, watched HGTV and a good ‘ol chick flick, and - just to be certain this was a full fledged girls’ weekend - there was a whole lot of talking.  While the headache from sleep deprivation nearly took me out the morning after, I had a truly amazing time.  However, there were a few moments of internal struggle for me off and on throughout our conversations.  You see, I have incredible friends.  They do just about everything great.  I think I’ve mentioned this fact before in a previous post.  As we chatted it up about motherhood, our kids, and our hubbies, I almost had to pinch myself because, for a moment, I truly thought I was in the presence of female greatness.  They do it all.  Not that their lives have been perfect because each has had her fair share of personal struggle, but they’ve handled every challenge superbly.  And to top it off…they are serious coupon clippers – down to their portable coupon file-a-folders.  When they broke these babies out, I thought I would fall off my seat.  One gal asked me if I “do” coupons.  Yes, I do “do” coupons, but apparently not like they do.  Listening to them gab on and on about all the free stuff they get with coupons, the $5 Target purses and a lifetime supply of Coke, a little voice in my head started taunting me. 

“You only thought you were a good steward of your money.  Look at these women.  They really know how to manage what God has given to them.  God only blesses those who steward their money well.”

Ugh.  Needless to say, I left that conversation with a huge knot in my stomach.  This kind of thinking, however, is completely distorted.  In the past I would have allowed the untrue message to eat me alive, but not this time!

My thoughts turned to God’s truth (and even with the truth in mind, I had to battle this one out):

“And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.  Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness.” – 2 Corinthians 9:8 & 10.

The beautiful thing about grace is redemption.  The beautiful thing about redemption is freedom.  And freedom is exhilarating and irresistible.  I live my life surrounded by spills and dust bunnies big enough to hop right out the door on their own, yet in the midst of it all, God is there, ready and willing to help me clean up the dirt and grime all the while holding me firmly and lovingly in his tender grasp.  And as for coupons, well, I’ll keep doing my best.  If I never win a “frugalista of the year” award, so be it.  God’s grace abounds to me in all things, and at all times.  When I am weak, he is my strength.  When I head out the door for the grocery store and forget my coupons altogether (which happened just the other day), he doesn’t judge or shake his head at me.  Rather, he helps me shop more wisely because he knows how much I depend upon him and his ability to supply and increase my store of seed.

And I’m pretty sure that my amazing girlfriends will still love this budding “Frugalista” in spite of my coupon file-a-folder deficiency! 

I’m learning to walk in God’s grace at all times, and in all things.

Daily Dose Of Grace

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." - 2 Corinthians 12:9 Amy's translation: "His grace is sufficient when my house hasn't been cleaned in two weeks, when Sydney's make-up homework pile is six inches high, when I haven't opened my Bible study book in over a week, and especially on those evenings when dinner comes from a can.  His grace abounds when I'm exhausted, sad, overwhelmed and sleep deprived, because when I am weak, He is strong."

The power of God's grace has pierced deep into my soul, and without it I am afraid I would live in a perpetual state of guilt.  His perfect love and all-sufficient grace have flooded my soul like an April downpour, and I'm soaking wet.  Washing away the guilt that I lug around on my shoulders every single day, He is inviting me to sing in the rain that will blossom into a beautiful array of May flowers.

I'm on a journey to rediscover God's grace in my life, and I hope you'll hang in here with me.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.  Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." - Galatians 5:1

Grace

Today I am grateful for grace.  

Grace from a friend when I'm not quite together and feeling terribly sorry for myself.

Grace from my husband when I accidentally smack him in the face first thing in the morning (I really thought I was barely touching him, but apparently at 6am my touch is not so gentle).

Grace from my family when meals aren't ready on time, and the dishwasher is full to overflowing leaving us with no clean dinner plates (thus the reason we keep paper plates on hand).

Grace from ministry directors when when my children get sick and need me the most, and I have to drop the juggling act for a little while.

Grace from my sister when days go by and I haven't called just to see how she's doing.

Grace from my Heavenly Father.  I haven't lived a perfect life.  I've messed up...a lot.  But God has been so good and so faithful to me.  Even now, when I struggle thinking I need to somehow earn God's approval, He bends down, lifts my head and whispers, "GRACE" to me. 

Ephesians 2:8-10

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast.  For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

As I reflect on Good Friday, and all that was sacrificed on this day thousands of years ago, I remember it was God's grace poured out upon that cross...for me.  I can barely comprehend such a love.  What a gift!  And I am completely grateful.

Grateful for God's grace.

Red Ballpoint Pen Strokes - A Re-post...

Ms. Shaffer was notorious for driving poor, unsuspecting seventh grade students to tears with her ruthless grading scale and sharp-witted tongue. She was a legend at Rosslyn Academy, who we truly believed coined the phrases: “empty vessels make the most noise,” “little things amuse little minds,” and – probably my favorite – “open mouth, insert foot…and chew.” She never raised her voice, and pulled these zingers off with a smile on her face and a piece of chalk in her hand, all the while listening to Paul Simon – whom she loved. She was brutal. And I was terrified.  

Our first assignment in Ms. Shaffer’s seventh grade English class was to write an introductory journal entry telling her a little bit about ourselves. I was so relieved, and so excited because I loved to write. (Since I was eight years old, and wrote my first poem, I have loved to write.) I thought to myself, this is my chance to win Ms. Shaffer over…she’s going fall in love with me and I’m going to be her star student! Internally there was a serious party going on in my heart and Julie Andrews was singing, “I have confidence in confidence alone!” I couldn’t wait to get home and tackle my “Introducing Amy” journal entry. My fears were quickly subsiding.

As I sat down at my desk at home and opened up my square paper journal, I began to brainstorm about what to write. I really wanted to impress Ms. Shaffer, so I knew it needed to be good, and it needed to sound smart. Sounding smart was about the most important thing in the world to me when I was in school – that, and boys, of course. To be perfectly honest with you, sounding smart is still something I really strive for. Funny thing is, when you try too hard to do, or be, something because you really, really want to do, or be that particular thing, it usually ends up blowing up in your face. Which in my case, it did…big time.

Back to “thinking smart thoughts”: I remembered this “Family Ties” episode I had watched one time, and Alex – played by Michael J. Fox (dreamy) – used the word intellectual to describe himself. Alex was a very smart boy. Therefore, in my eleven-year-old brain I figured that if I used the word intellectual in my “Introducing Amy” piece Ms. Shaffer would be so impressed with me. Not just because it was a smart word, but it was a big word – and smart people use big words.

Let’s just put it this way, every hope I had in becoming Ms. Shaffer’s little buddy - her class pet, her superstar seventh grader - was dashed the moment she handed my journal back to me. My literary masterpiece was covered – COVERED – in red ink. From start to finish there was hardly any evidence that I had written anything at all because Ms. Shaffer’s red pen of death had completely ripped through the pages of my soul. I was heartbroken. To make matters worse, I didn’t even spell “intellectual” correctly. A smart person would have at least looked it up in the dictionary to verify the spelling, but I’m not too smart. It never even occurred to me to grab my dictionary. Not only that, but I was pretty bummed that I couldn’t even get a decent grade when my assignment was to simply write about myself – the one subject I just happen to know something about. Evidently Ms. Shaffer didn’t think so.

I spent my whole seventh grade English career living in fear and trepidation of Ms. Shaffer’s red ballpoint pen. I worked so hard that year to redeem myself from that hideous first impression. To this day, I honestly don’t know what Ms. Shaffer thought of me (probably something like…emotional). I will say this, however, she (or quite possibly fear) pushed me to work hard – harder than I had ever worked in my life. And then, of all things, English became my favorite subject in school (I’m not sure if Ms. Shaffer is the one to whom the credit is due on this one, but she certainly had a hand in it).

You know, there are times, as I go through my day-to-day activities, when that eleven-year-old girl resurfaces. As I did with Ms. Shaffer, I want to be Jesus’ superstar. I want to present him with an “Introducing Amy” life that will knock His socks off. But I so often mess it all up. I want God to be proud of me. So what do I do? I do what Spiritually smart people do. I get up early and spend time with Him - I pray, I seek, I wait and ask Him to lead and guide my day. I do this, only to get irritated at Brooklyn when she wanders downstairs and interrupts my moment of “Spiritual intellect”. If God had a red ballpoint pen my life would be hopelessly covered with marks and scribbles.

Yesterday morning at church, before we partook in communion, the song “Amazing Love” filled the sanctuary…and I was suddenly overwhelmed – kind of like that feeling when you’ve had the wind knocked out of you. My hands trembled as I held the communion emblems in my fingers.

Amazing love – how can it be? That you my King would die for me? Amazing love – I know it’s true. And it’s my joy to honor you, In all I do, I honor you.

In a strange sort of way, God did have a red ballpoint pen. Although, He didn’t use it to scratch up the pages of my life and leave me covered in permanent ink. God sent Jesus - crucified on a cross…for me. Jesus – whipped, broken, covered in red strokes - poured out His love for me. He nailed my “mean mommy” moment towards Brooklyn to the cross along with His hands and feet - and countless other mistakes I’ve made in my life, the ones I’ve made just today, and the one I will more than likely make in the next hour or so - many, many years ago. He allows me to redeem my less-than-stellar moments, not with red ballpoint pen strokes, but by grace, forgiveness and a second chance. It’s not an excuse to be lazy. I still have a high responsibility in the various roles I play, but God knows I can’t do it alone. He knows I’ll forget to pull the dictionary out and end up misspelling a word or two. So, He allowed Christ to be the one to take the tough grade in my place. Every time I look at myself in the mirror I am reminded of the price that was paid so that I could be forgiven and uncovered with red ballpoint pen strokes. And at the end of the day, I actually get to be God’s superstar student!

Too Much "Life" Going On Around Here

It was only a few short hours after writing and posting Monday's blog that I received the frantic and fuming phone call from Joel that, "My tire just blew out!  It's in shreds!" He was on his way to pick up my mom and dad (whom we haven't seen in over three years because they're missionaries to South Africa) from the airport.

Joel was not happy.  I was a teeny bit (to put in mildly) sad because this meant a delay in our warm, and much anticipated, family reunion.  We did not hang up the phone on good terms.  And I seemingly remember gritting my teeth and snarling something like, "There's too much 'life' going on around here, God!"

I had to excuse myself from the children to catch my breath.

Then Joel called me back five minutes later (just enough time to inhale, exhale, and count to ten).  We made amends, and then thanked God that Joel had not yet exited onto the interstate, but lost the tire right next to an auto body shop.  They had no useful tools (ours just happened to be in our other car...go figure), but were very willing to help out in any way possible.  We were both relieved.

Mom and Dad sat at the airport Starbucks and enjoyed a few more hours of quality time before being fully submerged into the world of Slater craziness.  I was even able to finish baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies (my dad's all-time favorite), and lovingly place them on a cute spring platter.

As you can see, no one is immune to the bumps in the road: chicken pox, endless dust bunnies and dirty bathrooms, home remodel projects, marital squabbles and blown out tires.  It's all a part of life.   While I can't say that I always take those bumps with a hearty smile on my face, I honest to goodness do try to let God carry me through even the most challenging road trips.  His grace really is sufficient for me yesterday, today and tomorrow...no matter what 'life' decides to throw my way!

A Few Bumps In The Road

Sydney was upset last night.  I don't know if her internal angst was authentic, or if she was grasping at straws to find a way to stay up a little later.  In any case, she was feeling down and needed a moment to process.  In true drama queen fashion, Sydney burst out with, "Why is everything so weird?  Nothing is normal!  Our family is not right!"  Followed by instant tears.  

What she was referring to was Brooklyn's chickenpox, a playroom in disarray as my in-laws are helping us to complete a room remodel, spring break, and wild bursts of  mad house cleaning by yours truly, in preparation for my parents' arrival (which is today, by the way).  All of which have put a halt to our regular routine and structure.  Being a person who craves both of these, I could relate to Sydney's momentary breakdown.  What I said to her is what I have to say to myself on a sometimes regular basis.

There are times when we are going along our merry way and all of a sudden we encounter a little bump in the road.  Occasionally, there are several little bumps all at once that can quickly slow us down or change our direction.  They aren't always bad, but most of the time, they aren't what we were hoping for or expecting. 

Since we can't control when or where those bumps in the road will pop up - like the chickenpox - it is imperative to learn how to maneuver around these inconveniences.  We ( meaning me) are so accustomed to preparing for the big stuff that comes our way.  We believe that God will grant us the faith, strength, and perseverance to get through, and over, the Mount Everests in life.  But what about the bumps in the road? 

I heard a story, recently, about a man who ran across the United States of America.  When he reached the finish line,  a reporter asked him what was the most difficult part in the journey?  Was it the long trek through the desert?  Or the endless days running through fields of wheat and corn?  When the runner was finally able to catch his breath, he shook his head and went on to say that it was none of those things that made the journey difficult.  It was, in fact, the sand in his shoes. 

It's not always the obvious challenges of life, but the sand in our shoes that causes our faith to falter.

The bumps will come and go.  And one day, when we look back, we'll see that the rough patch was never as bad as we thought it was.  We don't know what lies around the corner, and there may be more bumps to encounter, but with God's grace, we'll make it through.  I don't want to allow a few minor inconveniences to upset my faith or cause me to question God's presence in my life.  As noble as it is to trust God to get me over the mountains, I believe it is equally so to trust His hand when I face a few bumps in the road. 

No matter what you are facing, may you know today that God is with you.  His hand is upon you.  He'll be there through the big stuff, and even the little stuff.  And, if your mountains are looking more and more like little speed bumps right now, may your faith in God's presence not shrink right along with them.  May your faith, in fact, be big enough to get you through whatever bumps in the road you face today.

Invisible

If you had a superpower what would it be?  I think mine might be invisibility.  Maybe it’s because of my reserved temperament, or what feels like years of dust accumulating on me as I sit on a shelf waiting for my moment to do something great for God.  Maybe it has nothing to do with either of these.  Yet, for whatever reason, I often times feel…invisible.   

I think Joseph – from the Bible, son of Jacob, sold into slavery, thrust into prison, second-in-command in Egypt Joseph – might have felt very much the same way I have at one time or another.  He had these incredible God-given dreams that placed him in a position of authority and prestige, only to be thrown down into a pit, bartered off by his brothers to endure years of heartache and disappointment.  It took tragedy after tragedy in his life for him to eventually see his dreams fulfilled.  He had to become invisible before God could raise him up to the most visible position in the land of Egypt.

I was looking at a seed the other day.  There was, with it, a picture of the beautiful flower that this seed was destined to become.  As I took a closer look at the small indescript object, I began to envision the end result.  All of the potential, color, texture and fragrance of this plant was right there in my hand – in the form of a tiny seed.  However, until it is actually placed into the ground, covered up with dirt, invisible and out of sight, it will never become the magnificent flower it was intended to be.

And even after that there is still a great deal of cultivation and patience needed before the results start poking through the soil.  Roots must grow deep and strong, expanding out and down under the ground to give the plant a firm foundation.  Without them the beautiful flower-to-be would be swept away when once the first storm were to hit its tender buds.  In time, in God’s time, tiny sprouts will protrude up through the grimy dirt, poking their heads out into the sunshine.  And eventually, the intended beauty of the flower will blossom and bloom: a gift to the world.

I believe, like with the seed and the flower, it is actually in those invisible moments - waiting for that dream, hope, promise to be fulfilled – that God is doing, by far, his greatest work.  It may appear as though, after God dropped a dream or a promise into your heart, he then mysteriously vanished.  It may feel close to abandonment.  Ever wonder why God does that?  I have.  What is the point of getting our hopes up, only to turn his back (seemingly) on us?  Oswald Chamber’s wrote: “Whenever God gives a vision to a saint, He puts him, as it were, in the shadow of His hand, and the saint’s duty is to be still and listen.  When God gives a vision and darkness follows, wait.  God will make you in accordance with the vision He has given if you will wait His time.”  God’s silence is not his abandonment.  He has not forgotten you, or the dreams he birthed inside you, simply because he has left you in complete darkness.  No.  He has, in fact, planted you deep in the soil, covered you up, made you invisible to all the world so that one day he may make you visible in accordance to his plan.

What can we learn in the wait?  Spiritual discipline, trust, brokenness and complete surrender.  We learn how to wait - how to be still and know that he is God.  We discover our weaknesses, those places in our hearts that are most vulnerable to pride, failure and self-sufficiency. 

How do we handle the wait?  We abide in Him. 

Psalm 91:1

“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.”

Abide means “to remain, continue, stay; to continue in a particular attitude or relationship.”  We stick with God.  And while we are drawing closer to him and resting in him, we are also in his shadow - covered up and hidden away.

What can we receive from the wait?  God’s plan made perfect in us and through us.  That’s it.  The chiseling away of our selves and our pre-conceived ideas of what these life dreams are supposed to look like.  Joseph caught a glimpse of his future, and it was phenomenal.  I’m sure his heart started racing as he visualized the greatness and awe of his destiny.  It must have surely blown him away.  But he wasn’t ready for the destiny, and it took a few pits, being forgotten and a couple thousand moments of God’s silence for such a dream as this to be realized.  It didn’t come easy.  And neither will mine, or yours. 

During the wait God is refining us – chipping away self and pride.  He is humbling us in order to raise us up.  He is causing us to be invisible so that he can then make himself visible through us.

“When you are in that season – that dark, empty pit of your life – there is nothing more precious to God.” – Linda Noah (Communication/Group Life Pastor at Portland Christian Center)

As we wait through the pain, through the disappointments, through the long and heavy nights, we are precious to God.  How sweet is that?  He hasn’t forgotten us.  He hasn’t abandoned us.  He hasn’t walked away or turned his back, although it may feel that way.  He hasn’t let us go.  He is still holding on tightly to us.  In fact, he is holding us in the palm of his hands.  He is hiding us in the shadow of his wings.  We may be invisible to the world, but we are not invisible to Him.  He sees us.

And one day, when our roots are strong and our buds have blossomed, we will open our eyes, look up and feel the warmth of sunlight on our faces.  We will relish in the moment of seeing and being seen.  No longer invisible, no longer dusty or cast off into a pit, but fully alive and bearing fruit.  Fulfilling the destiny God has chosen for us, our dreams awakened and in full bloom.

So as we wait invisible, let us not waste time sinking into invisibility.   Rather, may we be hard at work during the wait, and never for a moment think that God’s hand has withdrawn from us, or that his eye has wandered.  We are destined for His greatness – His visibility through us.

Not My Usual Way & Not The Typical Post

I'm racing the clock to get something posted this morning.  This is not my usual way of operating.  I like to be organized, thorough and have my posts for the next week written on Friday.  It saves me time, and still allows me to stay on top of things.   

I had written something for today, but decided at the last minute to pull it.  It wasn't bad.  There was nothing wrong with it either.  It just didn't feel right.  At least, it didn't feel right for today.  So, here I am, we're headed into mid-morning, and I've got nothin'. 

Well, maybe not nothin'.  There is one little somethin' on my heart right now.   (Please excuse the typos  as this is coming straight from my heart to this page - unedited.)

One word. 

Perseverance. 

You know, it would seem as though life is determined to chew us up and spit us out sometimes.  We go from one pit to another pit.  Sometimes it's our circumstances that push us over the edge and we're down, gasping for breath.  Other times someone comes along and shoves us into a very dark place.  There are some holes we dig ourselves into, and then we have to struggle and fight to dig ourselves back out again.  In those weak and empty spaces of our lives it becomes increasingly tempting to give up.  We want to just throw in the towel and say, "I quit!"  Have you ever been there?  Oh my word, I know I have.  Many times I have found myself pressed in beyond what I feel I am capable of handling, and I've wanted to let go.  Release my grip and fall back into the hole of my sorrow.  That, my friends, is a very lonely, sad and broken place to be.

What keeps me from giving in to the flesh in me that wants to throw up my hands and surrender to the pit that has tried so hard to enslave me?  What keeps the soul from shriveling up and dying away?  What holds me steady, when everything else is falling apart?  Perseverance.  Tenacity.  Clinging to God and not the rope of my own making.  Clinging to the intricate strands of God's truth.  Trusting in the Lord, and lifting up sacrifices of thanksgiving when I don't necessarily see anything around me to be thankful for.  Grounding myself in the Word of God that gives me the unction to keep pressing on, keep moving forward and keep going deeper spiritually rather than deeper into the pit.  Perseverance is not about willing myself to just get through it, or relying on my own strength.  Perseverance is charging forward in God's strength when I'm so weak and broken I can't see the light of day.   

Romans 5:3-5

Not only so, be we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.

Perseverance produces character (and I long to be a woman of integrity, raising children with godly character), and character produces hope (without hope, what else is there?).  We keep moving forward.  We keep pressing on.  Even in our weakest moment, by simply leaning on God - or perhaps falling to pieces in his arms - we are persevering.  We will not let go, and we will not give up.

My one thought for today: Perseverance!

(Inspired by the teaching of Linda Noah at a women's retreat I attended this past weekend.)

More Thoughts On Being Blessed

2 Corinthians 9:15

"Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!"

A few months ago, I hammered out my thoughts on being blessed.  "What does it mean to be blessed?" was my question.  Revisiting the post, a wave of "writer's remorse" washed over me.  The thought seemed unfinished, but I needed more time to process and more time in God's word.  This is what I have since discovered in my quest to understand God's blessing: 

There are different kinds of blessings.  In this post, I am going to touch on the following:  Covenantal blessing, material and spiritual blessing, the blessedness of Christ and grace, and the cup of blessing. 

On the Covenant Blessing:

The covenant blessing signified God's promise and favor over His people (Deuteronomy 28:1-14).  This favor that God extended to His people was evidence of His graciousness towards them - a sign of His endless mercy and goodness.  At the same time, God's blessings were oftentimes contingent upon man's obedience to His laws as were His cursings a result of disobedience (Deuteronomy 30:15-20). 

There is also the covenant blessing God made to Abraham in Genesis:

Genesis 15:5

And He took him outside and said: "Now look toward the heavens, and count the stars, if you are able to count them."  And He said to him, "So shall your offspring be."

God made a pact with Abraham, being nearly one hundred years old, with no offspring of his own.  God took him outside, pointed to the vast and ominous heavens filled from one end of the sky to the next with stars, and promised Abraham that his offspring would be as many.  Abraham believed in the Lord.

Again in Genesis 17, God established a covenant between Himself, Abraham, and Abraham's descendants.

Genesis 17:7-8

I will establish my covenant as an everlasting covenant between me and you and your descendants after you for the generations to come, to be your God and the God of your descendants after you.  The whole land of Canaan, where you are now an alien, I will give as an everlasting possession to you and your descendants after you; and I will be their God.

On Material versus Spiritual Blessing:

In the Old Testament, material blessing was a result of God's favor upon His people and also their obedience.  God's hand of blessing and favor can be seen from the moment of creation.  He looked at what He had made, and He saw that it was good.  It was pleasing to Him.  He created man in His image, and again, He was pleased.  Then came the fall of man - disobedience - and the divine curse.  This curse not only touched the lives of man, but also that of God's creation entirely.  It is only because of God's graciousness and mercy towards man that restoration of relationship could be made.  Still, in order to live under that blessing, there had to be obedience.

While we do not live under the Old Testament law today, we can draw much from this example.  In the Old Testament, material blessing was the evidence that signified God's hand and favor on His people.  Today, while God may bring material blessings our way, the actual blessings a believer receives in return for their obedience, are spiritual.  A blessed life comes from the inside out, not the outside in.  God's hand and His favor are found most heavily upon those whose lives are fully surrendered and sacrificed to God.  It is not about those things that glitter and shine and please the physical eye, but what shines out from our innermost beings- who we are, not what we have.

The Blessedness of Christ:

And then, there is the blessing of Christ.  God gave us the gift of His Son, Jesus, which far surpasses any blessing that we could ever imagine.  "Thanks be to God for this indescribable gift!"  The treasure we have in salvation is more than we can fathom.  I know I look for validation of God's blessing in material things.   I, too, fall into the trap that financial success and wealth are a reflection, or result of, spiritual depth and closeness to God.  Because I don' t have that, I question whether or not I am living under God's favor.  Am I missing something?  Yet, looking at God's word, rediscovering the gift that takes the words right out of my mouth, I realize it has nothing to do with stuff, and everything to do with the blessing of God's Son.  Because of Jesus, I can be forgiven of my sins and no longer live under a curse.  Because of Jesus, even in suffering I know a peace that passes understanding.  And because of Jesus, I, in turn, can bless others.  There is nothing magical about God's blessing.  It is simply His grace poured out lavishly upon us.

Which brings me to my final thought:  The Cup of Blessing:

The ancient Jews had a custom in which they would conclude their meal with a prayer of thanksgiving over a cup of wine - "the cup of blessing".  In doing so, they acknowledged God as the Giver of all good gifts. 

As I have reflected upon this, my thoughts have been drawn to my family.  What cup of blessing am I passing down to my children?  Do they see God's blessing as superficial as a brand new toy, or lunch out at a fun restaurant?  Or am I teaching them the beauty of God's blessing from the inside out?  I see this cup of blessing as something that each generation passes down to the next.  My parents, godly and wise, raised me to know God, love God, and see His handiwork in every aspect of our lives.  My husband, as well, was raised in a home where godly principles and instruction were taught and modeled.  From one generation to the next, we pass the cup.  We pass the gift of Jesus down to our children, pray that they will receive this gift, and in turn pass it on to their children.  With the cup of blessing in hand, we are unshakable.  We know who we are.  We know to Whom we belong.  We understand profoundly who provides our daily bread, the roof over our head, the clothes on our backs.  We give thanks to the One who gave us breath and life.  Oh, what a blessing that is!  What a blessed life we have!  All those outward things can fade away, but the gift of Jesus Christ remains forever.  And that, more than riches and wealth, is the inheritance I want to pass on to my children and the generations to follow.  

Jesus is the blessing, and the blessing I long to hold on to all of my days.

"It's Not About Me"

“It’s not about me.” If I had a quarter for every time I’ve heard that statement - whether from notable church leaders, speakers, bloggers or just super gifted every-day people - I’d be a millionaire.  I caught myself today, as I was praying, saying that very same thing, “Lord, it’s not about me.”  (I, by the way, am not any of those things I just mentioned…just so we’re clear.)

You see, tomorrow morning I will be speaking to our Ladies’ Bible Study.  There are about one hundred or so women in this group.  For me…it might as well be a thousand, a million, or a trillion - you get the picture.  I’m nervous, excited, filled with anticipation and terror.  I believe God has dropped a very meaningful word into my heart to share with these women; however, because the vessel (that would be me) that God has chosen to use is flawed, prideful, insecure, and weak, I have serious doubts that I will be successful in the delivery.

And here is where the rubber meets the road.  As much as I want to be available, real, and obedient to God, regardless of how “well” I do, there is a very real part of me that wants to do a good great job.  I don’t want to get up there and flop, mostly because, well, my human nature kicks in and starts believing that it is about me.  I don’t want to look silly standing up there at the microphone, lose my place in my notes or say, “Um, um, um” one too many times.  To say, “Oh, it’s not about me” is not being completely altruistic.  And I would venture to say that this is a struggle for many people in leadership roles.

There is also a part of me that longs for the affirmation post-speaking.  If I share what the Lord has laid on my heart, that should be enough, right?  Yet here I am wrestling down the flesh in me that wants to flare up and take credit for anything that comes out of my mouth while at the same time not wanting it to be about me.  It’s a battle.

Here’s the thing - I really can’t take any credit for what God has placed on my heart OR the way in which He chooses for me to convey the lesson.  As I have been preparing, every bit of creativity, every deep point, and every “a-ha” moment in the message came directly from God…not my own resources.  This is where I can honestly say, “It’s not about me.”  God is allowing me to utilize certain gifts and abilities in the delivery, but the content?  All that came from Him.  Do I care if I mess up, fumble my words, or realize afterwards that my zipper was down the whole time?  You bet I do!  Why?  Because I’m human.  I’m just a woman full of insecurities and dysfunction.  I’ve got a long way to go.  And maybe someday I won’t measure my success in how well I deliver the message, but if I simply delivered what God asked me to.

I believe true humility is not cowering or walking around slump shouldered, but it is being no more and no less than, the person God created me to be.  So, today I am praying with all my heart that when I get up to speak tomorrow that I will humbly recognize that it is not about me but about Him.  I pray that He will get the glory, even if I don’t.  I pray that my heart will stay in check.  And I’m praying, also, for confidence and peace that I am doing what I was created to do, and love every minute of it.  (And please, Lord, don’t let me trip on the way up to the platform or lose my place in my notes - humility...not humiliation!)

No, it’s not about me.  But it is about Him working through me, and what a marvelous opportunity to get to participate in something like that!

Stop And Enjoy The Potty Stops

Last week I was one twitch away from losing my sanity when, as I was driving to pick Sydney up from school, Brooklyn piped up from behind me, “I need to go potty.”  Which triggered something in Jackson and he echoed her plea, “I need to go potty, too!”  Even with the destination two minutes away, they ruthlessly insisted that they could not hold it…they needed to go “noooowww”.  

After I scrunched up my mouth, producing what can only be called the “Ugly Mommy Face”, I exhaled loudly and began searching for a feasible pit stop.  Nothing.  We continued driving.  The full bladder cries from the backseat intensified.  I kept driving, stressed out, darting my eyes here and there searching for a McDonald’s or Burger King…anything.  We made it to Sydney’s school parking lot where I parked the car and unloaded my two potty-dancing monkeys in the pouring rain.  They laughed, cheered, and thought this was the best adventure they’d ever had.  I, on the other hand, wanted to get inside the school building and find a bathroom before an “Oops!  Potty-in-the-pants” moment occurred.

When we made it back to the car, empty bladders and happy faces with 30 minutes to spare before Sydney would be let out of school, I sat back in my seat and thought further about this little adventure.  Why do I always feel like I’m in a hurry?  Why is my life a constant frenzy of panic and worry that I’m going to miss out on something or be late?  How is it that my children can turn a potty stop into Disney World bliss? 

Here’s why.  Children know how to live in a perpetual state of joy.  Every little thing in their lives is a reason for celebration.  Putting pee-pee in the potty, tying shoes, making beds, dressing themselves, cracking the eggs for the cookies we make, picking up their toys, and watching the neighbor walk his dog are all reasons to get down and shake their booties.  I wish I could look at life that way.  I wish I could pay my bills with a smile on my face and thanksgiving in my heart that we have the ability to pay them rather than grumble and grunt my way through.  Or twirl and sing when I’ve successfully folded a mountain of laundry, cooked a homemade meal, and swept the floors.  I think I am sorely deficient in celebrating the little things in life.

In the book, “The Life You’ve Always Wanted”, John Ortberg writes:

“God is the happiest being in the universe.  We will not understand God until we understand this about him.  God also knows sorrow and grief.  But the sorrow of GOD, like the anger of God, is his temporary response to a fallen world.  The sorrow will be banished forever from his heart on the day the world is set right.  Joy is God’s basic character.  Joy is his eternal destiny.  And God’s intent was that his creation would mirror his joy.”

I am challenged to stop hurrying my way through life, and take time to stop and enjoy the potty stops.  With my children as an example, who are experts at celebrating the little things, I want to grant myself permission to relish in the joys of motherhood, pat myself on the back once in a while for cleaning toilets and cooking dinner, and not allow myself to get bent out of shape when I hear “I need to go potty” from the backseat of the car.  Rather, I want to rejoice in the fact that I don’t change diapers anymore (which is cause for celebration for sure).  I want to sing in the rain (with a good, sturdy umbrella) and bask in the rays of pure joy. 

We have so much to celebrate - too many blessings to count.  I want to remember that life is a gift; life is about embracing the good and bad as whole, and remembering the One who holds me tightly in His grasp.  I want to be a mirror’s reflection of the One who takes joy in me. 

Psalm 28:7

The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped.  My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to Him in song.

Hard Things

I’ve done one or two difficult things in my life.  And by difficult, I mean, things that pushed me beyond my comfort zone and meant taking a risk.  I moved to France in August of 1999.  I lived with a woman who spoke zero English (nada, zilch…not one word of my native tongue).  I bought a wedding dress before I even had a steady boyfriend (call me crazy…I’m sure lots of people did).  I’ve climbed a mountain (okay, it was a small mountain, but it still counts because when I looked down into its crater and felt my stomach swirl and flop there was no questioning we were at a much higher altitude than your average, run-of-the-mill hill).  I’ve done a little public speaking (which I have recently learned that 95% of public speakers experience nervousness and anxiety to some degree).  And I birthed my last child sans drugs.  It was completely au natural, and I remember it like it was yesterday, believe me.   

Like I said, I haven’t done too many hard things, which really only means I’ve been playing it safe my whole life.  Too safe.  I’m not an adventure seeker, and you will never see me on Survivor, Amazing Race, or hanging out with the likes of Bear Grylls and the National Geographic crew.  You can forget about that.  I’m not one looking for the next thrill, but I am one who wants to live a thrilling life.  I want to be one who lives out her faith and is willing to take the chances that God brings my way.  I could easily stay on the sidelines and enjoy the comfort and security of where I am currently, but I believe if I want true blessing and an extraordinary life, then I need to start stepping out and doing a few difficult things.

Sunday was our missions faith-promise Sunday.  Each person/family was challenged (but not obligated) to commit a certain amount of money each month, throughout the year, for missions.  In addition to that, we were given the opportunity to participate in planting 250 churches in Ethiopia.  And in addition to that, we were given a challenge to participate with Convoy of Hope and bring one day’s salary as an offering on Easter Sunday that will go towards “One Day To Feed The World”.  Wow.  As I sat in my seat that morning, I could feel the wrestling match going on in my head and in my stomach.  “But God…it’s been such a hard year.  You can’t really be asking us to do all this?”  “God, I’m not sure I have enough faith.  I believe you can do anything, and I believe you can supply, but…this?  Really?”

And then something else happened.  As clear as day, I recalled what I sensed God whisper to me in the wee hours of that same morning, “Amy, trust me.  Amy, stop worrying about tomorrow.  Take care of today.  Focus on today.  Trust me with the tomorrows.”

And suddenly, I knew.  We couldn’t sit on the sidelines and simply watch while others stepped out in courageous faith.  We had to step out too.  We had to place all of our fears and uncertainties and, “how are we going to do this?” questions on the altar along with our faith promise commitments. 

This was one of those hard things.  Hard, as in, “God you have called us to do this, to step out in faith, and now we surrender to you…to the unknown path we walk.”

On the way home from church, Sydney called to me from the back seat, “Hey Mom! Would you break my piggy bank when we get home?”  

“Why, Honey?”

“I want to give all my money to help the people in Haiti.”

My heart melted.  And I realized something very profound: if Joel and I want to raise children with hearts for giving, then we must model giving.  For Sydney, this was so simple…nothing hard about it at all.  In fact, to her, giving is a delight.  Even for myself, giving this time was a joy, even though it was a step of faith.  I truly felt what it means to be a cheerful giver.

My family is on a mission: a mission to change the world, one small step at a time.  We will not shy away from the difficult tasks, but we will accept the challenges God brings our way and live lives with purpose and courageous faith.  We will do the hard things.

Insecurities...And All

I’m a lucky girl.  I am surrounded by some of the most unbelievable women on. the. planet.  Seriously.  They are phenomenal mothers, wives, friends, cooks, home managers, and coupon clippers.  They are smart, witty, pretty, read their Bibles and pray every day.  It is simply an honor for me to be able to hang out with them and to know them.   

The challenge, not surprisingly, is that I am, maybe, fifty percent of those things, about fifty percent of the time.  I fall short…a lot.  Oh I try my darnedest to look like I’ve got myself all put together when I leave the safety of my home, but in the back of my mind I know my short-comings, and I never feel quite adequate enough.  As I hear my friends dialogue about motherhood my mind wanders to that episode with my daughter earlier in the day, when I lost my patience and snapped at her.  Or when my son kept begging me to play cars with him and I was irritated.  Oh, I played with him, but I didn’t do it with a sweet spirit (and I’m always encouraging my kids to be sweet to one another).  And so my insecurity continues to grow and grow and grow, like a festering wound deep inside my soul.

How do I shake the insecurity out of me?  How do stop this silly game of comparison (because it only paralyzes me)?  How do I climb out of this pit I’ve dug for myself? 

Here’s how:  I remember what God says about me.  I remember that He is the one who formed me in the womb, and I am fearfully and wonderfully made (yes, that is right…wonderfully).  I know I’m not perfect.  I know I will make mistakes.  But I also know that it is by God’s grace that I can wipe away the past failures and hit the delete button on shame. 

My mom has always said to me that my life is a book (an appropriate metaphor), and every experience, every challenge, every heartache, and every growth pain is all part of the story.  As I morph – transform – into the woman God has created me to be, there will be lots of bumps in the road.  I will struggle with insecurity, but I will also overcome.  I will catch myself looking at other women and thinking I have nothing to offer them but a long list of flaws and failures, while God still chooses to use me, insecurities and all:  mommy mess ups and all, burned dinners and unhappy eaters…and all.  And in the end, because I’m not Superwoman, God gets all the glory.  Any good that comes from my life has nothing – nothing – to do with human effort on my part. 

I think that’s the way God likes it.  And you know what?  I’m okay with that.  I may not be everywoman for everywoman, but I’ll just be me: insecurities, flaws, bad hair days (like the one I’m sporting right now)…and all.

Drop The Ball

Everyone deals with stress in their own special way.  Some people lash out and attack, while some withdraw and end up with stomach ulcers.  Others cry or spend money they don’t have, or pick up old habits they beat years ago.  For me, if you want to know the degree of stress I'm under, all you need do is take a look at my house.  When stressed, my house falls apart.  Clutter, which I hate as much as going to the dentist, fills every empty space, every drawer, and every closet.  I literally freeze up while piles of paper accumulate in the kitchen, dining room, office, and bedroom.  I find facing the menial tasks before me a challenge because all my energy and focus is on the issue at hand.  

For a little over a month, Joel and I were under a tremendous weight of stress.  There are stressors every day, but this was out-of-the-ordinary kind of stress.  We had some major decisions to make, and quite honestly, it was all I could do to just walk out the door with my hair done and a smile on my face.  My poor house sat neglected for weeks.  (I suppose I should set a disclaimer here that my house did not go without being cleaned for two months - I can only neglect to a point – but stacks and stacks of clutter, clothes, papers, etc., were accumulating, and I hadn’t an ounce of motivation to face them and clean them up.)  It wasn’t until earlier this week that closure was made on this particular decision we were facing.  Suddenly, it was as though I had lost twenty pounds.  The burden and the stress began to ripple off my back, and I felt my old-self climbing up out of clutter.

And you can only guess what happened next.  Yep.  This house is in major de-clutter mode.  The other morning I pulled every file out of our filing drawer and began re-organizing, purging, and filing (filing, filing, filing) all the papers, bills and statements that had been collecting dust in our dining room.  And my favorite part has been throwing miscellaneous papers, envelopes, and forgotten art projects away.  I feel great…and I’ve only just begun.  Slowly but surely, my home will be back in working order.

Which brings me to my point in sharing this little insight into my stress management, or lack thereof.  There are seasons in our lives that sometimes overwhelm and bear down so hard on us that it’s all we can do to simply get up and out of bed in the morning.  Have you ever faced a time like this?  I have.  And too often, when we are in those seasons, what compounds the difficulty is the stress we feel from outside expectations – that we have to keep all the balls in the air in spite of the pain or grief or depression…or whatever it is we are facing.  And I just want to say, it’s okay to drop a couple of balls now and then.  It’s okay to let the loose ends remain loose for a while.  I’m not a real fan of a dirty, cluttery house (just ask Joel…he loves to tease me about my obsessive compulsive tendencies), but there are times when my focus and energy are pushed so far in one direction that something’s gotta give.  Something needs to go by the wayside until the pressure has passed and I sense relief. 

I’m not encouraging a life void of discipline, but when a life is in crisis, or under heavy stress, I am encouraging a life void of unnecessary pressures.  Because, my friends, if you are going through a dark season right now, and you haven’t given yourself any wiggle room to let go of a few things, then I strongly believe you are setting yourself up to snap.  And I would sure hate it if someone I knew, or someone who reads this blog, ended up falling apart into a million pieces. 

You know, God’s not expecting perfection.  He’s already got that one in the bag.  If you are at your breaking point, He just wants you to come as you are – frail and weak.  I think He’d tell you the same thing that I’m trying to tell you:  that it’s okay to drop a few of those balls you’ve been frantically juggling, and let Him take care of you.  Eventually, when this tough patch has cleared, and you find yourself on the other side, whole and renewed, then you can pick those balls back up.  You can jump back into your life, but this time complete…restored.

Believe me, I share this because I’ve experienced the breaking point, and it’s not somewhere I ever want to revisit.  That’s why the papers will pile up every now and then, the closets will look like a bomb went off in them, and our junk drawer will look like a junk yard.  I’m learning to quit the juggling act and allow God to hold on to the balls for me because when I’ve overcome the obstacle in my way, the balls will always be waiting for me on the other side, and I’ll be in much better shape to handle them.

Asking "Why" About Haiti

I love the wild and unpretentious things that spring forth from my children’s mouths like, "Mommy, when you're mad your eyes get red!"  Or “Mommy, I put pee pee in the potty!  I’m a big boy!  You put pee pee in the potty too!  You a big girl!” - such sweet innocence.  Sometimes their simplistic views and profound observations make me smile.  I love to listen to my children discover life – taking in all the wonderment of this world they occupy.  

However, recently Sydney has been asking some pretty deep questions.  Much, much heavier content than, “Why do you wear make-up?” and “Do I really have to be a grown up someday?”  Lately the questions she’s been throwing my way have been inspired by the tragedy in Haiti.  “Did God make the earthquake?”  “Why did it happen?”  “Why did God let it happen?”  “Did those people do something wrong?”  Joel and I are not ones to throw petty answers at our children when they ask us tough questions, realizing at the same time, we need to keep our answers 6-year-old friendly.

As I was forming a response in my head, I felt overwhelmed.  How do I explain that the same God we have taught her about since she was squirming around in my womb - the God who is loving, compassionate, our protector, Who has good things for His children, Whom she has invited into her life - would allow an earthquake to trample a city to the ground, killing thousands upon thousands of men, women and children?  How do I explain the character of God to a 6-year-old, without confusing or skewing the image of such a gracious, merciful and forgiving Heavenly Father? 

Sorting out the best way to answer, I started thinking about the people who don’t believe in God at all.  Perhaps they are asking the same questions as my little girl.  What would I say to them?

Here is the response I came up with:

God is good, but sometimes, bad things happen.  Sometimes God allows tragedy because He knows what is best for us.  Just like I allow Sydney to make mistakes, knowing full well the consequence in the end will not be a pleasant one.  While God is in control of all the earth and everything in it, He still gives it permission to operate, rotate, breathe in and breathe out, fulfilling its cycles as it was created to do. 

Could He have saved those who perished?  Yes.  He could have.  Was He punishing them, and therefore chose not to save them?  No.  While He could have swooped in and protected each one of the earthquake victims, God chose not to.  And quite honestly, we’ll never know why or understand fully as long as we’re living on earth.  That’s a tough answer to swallow.  We like to know why.  We like to understand and rationalize and make sense of uncertainties.  It is very difficult to settle with the fact that we won’t always know why.

Here’s the thing.  Life is precious to God.  His character will always be good, righteous, holy and pure.  But we live in a broken world.  When Adam and Even chose to disobey the one command God gave to them in the Garden of Eden, sin entered into the picture…and life has never been the same.  Bad things are going to happen.  Good and bad people alike will suffer here on earth.  Even Christians will suffer. 

Could it be, though, that God sees a picture far, far bigger than the one we are looking at right now?  Could it be that from the devastation good will emerge?  Love will bloom where once it had no root?  That those who’s hearts were hardened to God, may, in fact, be melting at this very moment?  It’s difficult to imagine that anything good could come from this, but I don’t see all the details, or the full scope of the image God sees.  Could it be that while we are searching to understand why, God is already at work answering our questions, opening up our eyes to His panoramic view, little by little?  And while we may never see it fully, we may at least catch a tiny glimpse of the image God sees, and realize He was always good, and He was there the whole time.

I think it’s great to ask why, and I’m so touched that Sydney would feel comfortable to ask such questions of me, and my husband.  Sometimes I might be able to give a clear-cut answer, but other times, like this, I won’t.  She’ll have to learn to settle for the fact that not all “whys” have answers.  She’ll have to wrestle with it on her own, just as all of us do.  But the one thing I pray she will hold on to for her entire life is that God is good…no matter what.

Legacy - Part Two

Have you thrown a temper tantrum lately?  I have.  I know what you’re probably thinking:  “That’s something I’d like to see!  Amy throwing a temper tantrum!”  Before you get all excited envisioning my five foot eight frame flailing about on the ground, my meltdown was a little less exuberant.  I didn’t realize at the time that my outburst was, in fact, a temper tantrum until we starting dealing with a succession of bedtime battles with Sydney.

Whether it was coming off of the holiday sugar high, or the stress we’ve been under over the past few months, or the fact that Joel was preparing to leave on an eleven-day building trip to Nicaragua with a group from our church, Sydney downright lost it.  And when I say, “lost it”, I mean lost ALL of IT.  Night after night we faced the same drama:  arms and legs twisting and swinging this way and that; blood curdling screams that made our hearts drop to the pits of our stomachs; red-faced angry words that stung and bruised and didn’t make sense all at the same time.  Sydney has always been a challenge, but meltdowns of this proportion are very rare, and this specific behavior hadn’t graced our lives in well over a year. 

While Joel was in Nicaragua I begged God for a hiatus from these explosions.  I think He must have had mercy on me, because, while there were still outbursts, they were manageable.  Either that, or He granted me some much needed wisdom and insight in dealing with them properly.  On one such occasion we were driving home from an outing, and it was late.  Sydney started spiraling out of control emotionally.  Instantly I had the good sense to stop her, and in a calm voice ask her what I could do to help.  I said, “Sydney, I can see that you are upset, and I really want to help you.  What is it that I can do for you right now?”  She sniffled and snorted then said, “I can’t think.  I’m crying.”  I replied, “Then, you need to stop crying and start thinking.  I love you and I really do want to help you, but until you stop crying and start thinking, there’s nothing I can do for you.”  It was like magic.  Instantly anger was diffused, muscles relaxed and she quieted down long enough to think and listen.

I’m not a super mom, by any means, but by remaining calm and thoughtful in an irrational moment, I was able to safely reign in my emotionally expressive child.  This has made me think a lot about my relationship with God.  While I haven’t been physically thrashing my body in a heated temper tantrum over not getting my way, I have been mindless in my cries to God.  In my head I thought things were supposed to go a certain way, and they didn’t…so rather than stop and find out God’s thoughts on the matter, I’ve whined, cried, questioned, and blubbered out selfish one-way prayers.  Sydney’s tantrums have brought much conviction to me.

When I finally drew in a deep breadth and exhaled, God had a chance to speak, to say, “Hey Amy, I really love you and I want to help you, but you need to stop crying first.”  When I stopped crying, and started listening to the still, small voice of my Heavenly Father, He started speaking. 

The following four life practices that I will be implementing this year are what I sensed God calling me to do in that quiet moment of reflection:

• Wait (in silence and solitude) – Psalm 46:10 NIV “Be still, and know that I am God.” Isaiah 40:31 KJV “But they that wait upon the Lord will renew their strength; they will mount up with wings as eagles.”  Before I rush out planning and making decisions, I sense that God is quietly urging me to pause – to wait in the stillness of His presence.  Rather than fret and worry, He is calling me to quiet my mind, seek after Him, long for Him, and He will bring clarity, straightforward answers and peace that passes understanding. 

• Delight in the Lord – Psalm 37:4 “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.”  When I begin to delight, cherish and take care of those things that are dear to God, then He, in turn, will do the same for me.  And really, God cares a million times more about my husband, children, daily needs, hopes, heart desires and dreams than I ever could.  (I have a strong feeling I will need to practice this on a daily basis.)

• Thanksgiving – Psalm 50:23 NIV “He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God.”  Sometimes it’s easy to come before God with a heart of thanksgiving; like after a long-awaited prayer has been answered, or everything in life is going our way.  However, there are those times when thanksgiving is a sacrifice.  It doesn’t come natural.  It may even hurt.  You know that scripture, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is the tree of life”?  Well, offering up words of thanks and gratitude to God when the heart is sick is what I believe it means to offer up a sacrifice of thanksgiving.  I believe God is calling me to thank Him even though I have yet to see the longing of my life fulfilled.  In due time, He will make all things beautiful.  I am going to focus on the hope of what is to come, thank Him in advance for it, even if it hurts.

• Sacrificial giving – Psalm 65:11 NIV “You crown the year with your bounty and your carts overflow with abundance.”  Tithing is a no brainer.  God’s Word instructs us to give Him a tenth of our earnings (Deuteronomy 14:22).  When we do so, we are living in obedience.  I don’t believe God to be a tyrant up there in heaven wielding a big stick, ready to swat at anyone who so much dares not tithe.  However, I believe that those who do tithe are in a much better position for favor, blessing and protection than those who don’t.  God is not legalistic, but He has set these instructions before us for our benefit.  When we don’t tithe it only ends up hurting us, not Him.  That said, even while tithing may sometimes feel like a sacrifice, Joel and I believe God is calling us to re-align our finances and give beyond our regular tithes and offerings – to give sacrificially.  Only blessing can be reaped when we give to that which touches our Father’s heart, especially when that giving isn’t an easy thing to do.

So, there you have it, in a not-so-little nutshell.  This is only the tip of the iceberg, but a great start to what I hope will be a life well lived – a life bearing fruit, pursuing a dream and leaving a legacy.

Legacy - Part One

I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.  Deep thoughts and not-so-deep thoughts alike have been swooshing around in this noggin of mine.  And each time I’ve tried to sit down and start typing them out there would, of course, be some crisis to be addressed – like keeping Jackson company while he sat on the potty for an hour waiting for his “business” to come out into the toilet and not his pull-up, or spending two hours at bedtime dealing with non-stop emotional meltdowns by child #1, or playing referee to a multitude of sibling knock-down-drag-out fights, on top of the day-to-day challenges of raising three kids with the hope that they become well-adjusted, law-abiding, rational adults some day.  Needless to say, time has not been on my side, and the vast majority of my deep musings and insights have completely evaporated in the heat of childrearing.  

With that said, the following is what has lingered profoundly in my soul amidst the crazies in my life.  It is the thought, the conviction, the goal and where I have zeroed in emotionally, spiritually and cognitively over the past few weeks.  The big question to myself:  What am I leaving behind?  What will be my legacy?

A friend of mine wrote on this at the beginning of the month, and it stuck with me, as this was something I, too, had been wrestling with.  When I’m gone, what impression will I have left behind?  What will my husband say of me?  My children?  My friends?  Those God has called me to serve?  Will their words be mere accolades of my sweetness and quick smile?  Or will I have left a fruitful orchard of spiritual substance for my loved ones to feast on long after I’m gone?  My legacy. 

I have high hopes for myself, but fear I fall short more often than not.  I lose my patience, hold grudges, compare, whine and complain, and try very hard to justify each one of these offenses, only to end up staring straight into the face of conviction when I sit down to read my Bible.  I wonder if there’s any hope for me?  (And I’m eternally grateful that the answer to that is “YES”!)

I had a conversation this week that both challenged and encouraged me.  I was challenged to look at my life in the context of a bigger picture…a God-sized picture.  For a thinking person like myself I find dreaming big to be extremely difficult.  I’m naturally inclined to focus on the here and now…not so much the vastness of what can be.  So, in conjunction with my thoughts on legacy, I sat down and started looking at where I want to see myself down the road, and what it’s going to take for me to get there.  Yes.  I want to leave a cherished and rich legacy behind.  Now, rather that simply writing the story of my today, I am challenging myself to begin writing the story of what can be, what I will be, and how I believe God is going to take me there.

In my next post I will share with you the four areas in my life that I have sensed God calling me to go deeper, and how I plan to do so.  I have bigger dreams for my future, but with a keen understanding that big dreams start with small steps - each one building on the next.  For this year I will be incorporating these four things into the DNA of my life, with high hopes that they will become second nature to me, and through them the first step to my dream fulfilled will be realized.