Two, three, one, go!

Doing things in a logical order isn't always my strength. It shows up in the little things--forgetting to lay out my towel before my shower, so I have to drip all over the bathroom before drying off. Adopting a puppy two weeks after we put in the new carpet. Cutting my hair off two days before the wedding, so no gorgeous up-do for me. Starting a can't-put-it-down novel early in the day, blowing any chance of a productive morning. Filling the gas tank at the end of my list of errands, so I travel from store to store on fumes. Checking the pantry for sugar after the cookie recipe is half-mixed in the bowl.

This pattern has shown up in some more impactful ways, like getting married before we graduated from college (i.e. choosing to live on mac and cheese in a cheap, rat-infested apartment for months. I guess you really can live on love!). Signing up my daughter for summer camp before I was sure she was emotionally prepared to go. Pitching a fit at my husband before giving him the chance to explain his side of the story. Taking on a second foster baby before my volunteering and book deadlines were complete. (Who needs sleep, right?)

Sometimes that's okay. It's great to be optimistic and open to new experiences. To be able to flex and change outside the limits of a rigid routine. To have a willing heart to drop everything and help when there's a need. To be a "yes" person in a negative world. But clearly, I need wisdom and balance before I jump into new situations without thinking. Especially when my choices might take my family for a ride they didn't ask to get on.

It occurred to me that God doesn't always seem logical either. I'll never understand how "while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8)  Shouldn't he have waited for me to beg for salvation before he made the way? Didn't he want to see some good effort on my own to get my act together, before he invited me into his family? Shouldn't I have been looking for him before he came looking for me?

No, he knew my name and had plans for me before he even made this world. He knew I would be weak and blind and lost. He proved his love by giving me Jesus before I even knew I needed him.

I'm sure I'll keep on doing things upside-down and backwards. Sometimes because I'm following my heart and sometimes because I'm loopy. But I trust in a God who always does things in the perfect way at the perfect time. I am loved.

Joy in the morning

Easter is hands-down my favorite holiday. It's a time of celebration - He is Risen! I love the beautiful church services, time with family, darling little girls in frilly dresses, and the fresh scent of spring in the air.

At Easter our church creates a prayer garden where we can meditate on Christ's work on the cross. It has three stations, including a place to lay a memento down that symbolizes a burden being given over to the Lord. The opportunity to reflect, give thanks, and ask for help is powerful.

Last year, however, it was difficult to find joy. On the morning of Good Friday we sat through a court hearing for our foster son where the judge seemed determined to hedge us out of his life by any means possible. It seemed certain that he would be pulled from our home and our arms forever. I took our daughters to the prayer garden later that day. All I could do was sit and weep. My prayer was just that God would help me to accept His plan, even if it meant saying goodbye to our precious little boy. The girls each brought a tiny toy car to leave as a symbol of their prayers for their little brother.

Later that day, Rob went to the prayer garden alone. He's my calm, steady rock. But when he saw those little cars among the stones in the garden he was broken.

It has been a year since that painful, tearful Good Friday. We are in awe of all God has done since then. He turned the whole course of the case in a new direction, and now we're nearly through with the adoption process. Other circumstances knocked us down over the last year--there were days I wasn't sure if I would be able to function or even breathe. But God gave me what I needed to not just survive those days, but to overcome and thrive as He carried me through.

My heart feels the heavy weight of all that my friends and loved ones are dealing with right now. Whether it's sickness, lost jobs, a strained marriage, or painful separation from someone dear, so many of us are frustrated, hurting, and afraid. It does not mean that God has become distracted or turned his back. He loves on, and on, and on. When he says he's here, he means it. When he says "weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning," it will. When he says he doesn't waste our pain, he won't.

Anyone who's spent much time in church has heard that God keeps his promises. I needed this last hard year to begin to understand that he truly does. And I learned that it's through pain that I get to see my Hero. My Champion. My Healer, Rescuer, and Friend that sticks close. Whenever I have to give up something here in this world, it's a chance to get more of him. And he is better than anything I will ever lose.

"I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord

in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord;

 be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord."

 (Psalm 27:13-14)

You might not want to come over...

My girls and I have caught a sloppy, sneezy, achy winter cold. The vaporizer is misting and the asthma nebulizer is humming. I'm downing hot coffee and ibuprofen. My five senses are dropping off one by one--I can't hear because my ears are plugged, and we can't smell or taste much. Our house is just one big petri dish of germs.

It's probably best that Rob has an office to run to this week! It seemed somewhat of a miracle that he actually walked through the door last night, willing to face the hacking and sneezing and piles of Kleenex all over. If anything lets me see Jesus in my husband, it's being sick.

Rob did the dishes, took out the trash, picked up every toy, bathed the little guy and tucked him in. I woke up to blissfully clear countertops and floors. The trash cans are empty so there's room to throw away the thousands of tissues we're using today.

Best yet, he didn't seem to notice how not beautiful I was last night. He didn't mention the lack of makeup, the baggy eyes, or the bedhead hair. He let me get close enough for a few hugs. I wasn't kicked out of bed to go sleep with a coughing, sneezing daughter--he even let me put my icy feet on his to stay warm.

Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." (Mark 2:17) Just like Rob didn't run away from the girls and me in all our germy ickiness, but he drew close to care for us and show his love, Jesus doesn't turn away from us in our sin. Instead, he's drawn to the ones who need him the most. He is fully aware of the germs of rebellion and stubbornness in our hearts. He came into this world to be close to us--to be one of us--and bring us total healing.

Be well!

Potty Ponderings

This is yet another morning of potty training at our house. Another morning of soggy socks and a half-naked cutie running around the living room. Another morning of skipping, excitement, and popsicle rewards when he’s “produced.”

What’s different today, though, is that instead of just a potty and a little kid trying to “get it”, I’m seeing myself. How many areas of maturity have I resisted and messed up and taken forever to get a handle on?

My little boy struggles to coordinate pulling off his airplane underwear and sitting down in time, but I’ve struggled to meet deadlines and organize my household well. Knowing what I ought to do doesn’t always match what I actually do. And just as my son has to practice again and again, each morning is another merciful opportunity to serve my family a little better than yesterday.

Five minutes ago the little, um, darling left a stinky mess on my fresh new area rug. How many times have I dumped harsh criticism all over my handsome-funny-brilliant husband? Or unloaded rants and rages on my three beautiful daughter-treasures? I know he didn’t mean to make another poopy mess, any more than I ever meant to lose control of my words and emotions. But it has happened and it’s ugly.

My son has all dignity removed when he’s stripped down, wiped up, and bare for all the world to see. God has done his best work in my heart and life when I’ve been laid bare too. Painful, humiliating failure has brought me to my knees before a God who loves me and lifts me up again. Having my weakness blown up so huge that I can’t possibly deny it has taught me to cling to my Strength—my heavenly Father who promises to grow me up and make me clean.

I will keep on potty training my son. We will plug our noses over the stink and do happy dances over every success. I’ll hug him, reward him, and never give up believing he’s going to beat this thing. And I’ll rejoice that my Father loves me just like that—He is going to stick with me until I look like Jesus.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (James 1:2-4)

Holding up my hands...

Today is one of those days where I'm well aware that "foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child!"  (Prov. 22:15)  The hardest part isn't the foolishness, it's how attached the kids are to it! My kids like to out-funny each other, talk over each other, and interrupt Rob and I with silly questions and comments, especially when we're trying to get into the Word as a family. It frustrates me when I come out the other side of devotions feeling farther from the Lord than when we started!

This is a reminder that I'm in a battle. Our flesh, the world, and the enemy all are raging against our purpose as parents to share Jesus Christ with our children. The reason I get frustrated is because I get caught up in thinking it's my battle. The truth is, the battle is the Lord's.

But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you.

Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.

--1 Corinthians 15:57-58

 

When I'm tempted to give up--to just relax and browse Facebook instead of opening the Bible with the kids after dinner--this scripture encourages me to hang in there.

 

I also realize that I can't do this alone. I remember the story in Exodus 17 where Moses was praying over the Israelites as they battled the Amalekites in the wilderness.

 

As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses' hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up--one on one side, one on the other--so that his hands remained steady till sunset.  So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword.

--Exodus 17:11-13

 

My children, just like the children of Israel, have enemies who want to kill their young faith. They want to convince them that trusting in Christ and their parents is stupid. They make sinful choices look really fun and attractive. Rob and I are battling for our kids every day when we pray over them and teach the truth. Who helps to "hold up my hands" when I get tired in the battle? My husband, my church, my godly friends, and the Holy Spirit who gives me strength.

 

Tonight I'm really tired and frustrated, and wondering if they hear a word we say.  The Spirit drew near, though, and  comforted my heart with the Word. I'm so very thankful. My hands are tired but lifted up for one more day.