Tag: large families

The Power of Small Changes

This past week I’ve had something unusual happen. I’ve been waking up in a good mood, feeling happy. As someone who has spent her entire life fighting lowgrade depression which occasionally morphs into full blown deep depression, waking up feeling happy feels strange. It’s not that I normally wake up in a bad mood. It’s just usually very neutral. Yes, I’m awake. New day. Better get moving. 

I find myself kind of poking this happiness. What are you doing here? Isn’t there something that I should be worried about or feeling upset about? I find myself examining every aspect of my life. Am I being a good mom, wife, friend? Am I using my time well? And while everything can always improve, I feel like everything is moving in the right direction. Huh.  

Is happiness simply the lack of conflict and problems? I hope not, otherwise, I can count on this disappearing pretty quickly. Life has a way of throwing stuff at you at a pretty regular pace. 

But, I don’t think that’s what it is. I think that I am finally seeing the fruit of a lot of small decisions and disciplines I’ve been slowly implementing. I think allowing myself a good six months to just sit with my grief when my foster daughter left was the beginning. Then tackingly my health with diet and exercise and working on getting back into music. All individual choices that have required daily discipline, but I am starting to see fruit, and easing of depression seems to be one of those good benefits. 

I was thinking about this same concept in the realm of parenting. I have concerns for some of my kids. Things I want to see changed. Things that worry me. And this morning as I sat at the breakfast table, my youngest sitting in my lap having a cuddle before school, I thought, this is how change happens. One day at a time. Me consistently loving them, pouring into them, providing a peaceful home where their needs are met. Correcting unwanted behavior as it happens. 

Sometimes when I am dwelling on things that are going wrong with my kids, I want something big and drastic that I can implement that will solve all the problems and fix it immediately. But that is rarely what works. Instead it is small changes, small choices, daily disciplines. 

For example, my son was having a really negative attitude about school starting up again. Everything he said was negative. His attitude was horrible and he was angry and in a bad mood constantly. After checking out the facts and realizing that the only real problem he was having was that he didn’t want to stop summer break where he could play all day and resented having to do actual work every day, I wanted his attitude to change immediately. I wanted this negativity to stop. I lectured him quite a bit. Surely if he just faced the facts, he would accept it and move on. Nope. No change. I finally implemented a “GOOD ATTITUDE” chart. Every day after school he had to tell me three good things that happened that day. And then he could tell me one thing that was challenging. Each day he could get a sticker for doing that, and every week that he filled his chart with stickers, he would get a dollar. 

The first day was comical in how hard it was for him to tell me three good things. It took him all afternoon and it was like he was fighting a lot of inner demons to be able to get the words out his mouth. (He really wanted the dollar, so he persevered.) The next day was a little easier.  By the end of the week he was getting in the car after school ready to tell me his three good things right away. By the end of the second week he had already forgotten about the chart. The negativity had ended and each day he was able to casually mention good things that happened during the day. And his mood had vastly improved. One small discipline, implemented daily. Long term results. 

I think it’s tied up with faith and hope. I have faith that God’s word is true, and I have hope that if I follow God’s precepts, I will see fruit which will come at the right and proper time. And for that, I am thankful. 

What is God’s Will for my Life?

I’ve been thinking about how hard it is to discern God’s will for your life. 

I have started taking piano lessons again. I’ve been doing it for one month. I’m loving it. I’m practicing every day and my teacher is amazing. I’m seeing some really big improvements as I follow her direction. I feel like something was hibernating inside of me for a long time and it’s slowly being awakened. But I’m fighting a battle with guilt. 

Is this really the best use of your time? Are you taking away from your kids by doing this? Isn’t this rather selfish? Are you wasting family resources? Is this really necessary? Shouldn’t you be out doing ministry in your spare time? How is this ever going to turn into a job that will help your family down the road? You are definitely being selfish. 

Now, I’m not entertaining these thoughts. They come, I brush them away. They come again. I push them away again. I’m not inviting them in and wallowing in them but, they do keep coming. 

Our foster daughter of three years left this last December. I have spent this year kind of recovering from that. A lot of emotions to process. I feel like I am finally in a place where I’m ready to be out in the world again, but I’ve been at a bit of a loss as to what I should be doing with myself. Serving people is a key part of my faith. Love God. Love People. And right now, I don’t feel like I’m doing much serving. There are a million ways to get involved in serving here in our community. So many organizations with boots on the ground who always need more volunteers. Finding a place to serve is not the issue. The issue is figuring out what God wants me to be doing in this very moment. 

In the past I’ve learned to not get too worried about this subject. Without fail, God has always brought people into our lives for us to serve and minister to. I have felt like my main responsibility has been  to be willing and ready. And that is where I’m at right now. Ok Lord, I’m willing and ready to do whatever you want me to do. In the meantime, I’m going to do the work that I already have in front of me which is to take care of my family. Make new friends with the people I am meeting. Go to church. Read my Bible. And music. For whatever reason, I have felt the urge to get back into music. And God has opened doors for me to be able to teach again. And to reconnect with my piano teacher. And be able to pay for lessons. And for those lessons to just happen to be close by and at a time when I can still manage school pick ups and drop offs. 

So yeah, it feels like I’m walking in the right direction. But guilt speaks loudly. Surely it’s not God’s will for me to be doing something I actually enjoy? Isn’t serving God supposed to just be painful sacrifice? 

I tell my older kids, when they ask the Million Dollar Question, How do I know God’s will for my life? I tell them, God has given you gifts and abilities and talents. Start using them. He gave them to you for a purpose. You aren’t going to go wrong doing the things that you were inherently made for. Don’t just sit waiting for some great epiphany. Get yourself moving using your gifts and then God can direct your steps as you move forward. 

So here I am, taking my own advice. 

He Restores My Soul

Our family just got back from four days at the beach. We went to Hunting Island State Park in South Carolina and got a primitive tent site. When I was making reservations I just took the only site available for four days. And then took another site that was available for two days, since our family is too big to be in one site. Well, it turned out that site 25 and site 11 are right next to each other, so our family wasn’t spread out all over the campground. Also both sites were right next to the bathhouse and right next to the very short path that led to the beach. 

I loved being in the ocean. I grew up in Haiti and the sounds and smells of the beach feel like all the good things about childhood. The water was very warm, it wasn’t crowded, there were waves for the kids to play in, but it  stayed calm enough that they could swim safely. There was a brisk wind that blew all day. And our tent and the bathhouse were literally a sixty second walk away, so it was easy to go back to our site for lunch and snacks and bathroom breaks. 

The beach was awesome. 

Tent camping was not that great. 

The beach had wind, but there was a big sand dune separating the campground from the beach and it blocked all the breeze. Early in the morning and in the evening there were swarms of no-see-ums and mosquitoes. Our site had very little shade and our canopy with mosquito netting  was just tall enough that all the sun came in on the sides and we were constantly having to move our chairs to stay in the shade. At night there was no breeze and the temperature never went lower than the 80s. And the kids and I were not able to take the time to get the sand off our feet when we went into the tent because we were hurling ourselves through the barely unzipped opening to try and escape the swarms of bugs chasing us. Which meant that by the second night, my air mattress was covered in a fine silty layer of sand that, with the help of sweat, stuck to our whole bodies. 

Fortunately, we have friends who live in the area that we were also visiting and the second night my oldest child abandoned camp and went and slept at their house, then the third night the next four oldest joined them, and the last night, we said, forget this, and we all went and slept at their house. 😀 Hurray for friends. 

I loved being on the water, but on our last day, I was able to say confidently that I did not want to live near the beach. It was great for a visit, but it was really nice to get back to the mountains of East Tennessee. 

A verse has been going through my head the last week or so from Psalm 23. “He restores my soul.” I approached this vacation feeling like this trip was going to be part of the process of God restoring my soul. 

What I expected was paradise. 

As I lay in my bed the first night, so hot I couldn’t sleep. I thought about other people having beach vacations, staying in nice air conditioned hotels. And I thought, YES! But are they building character on their vacation??? We are building character by gum! And that really was what a lot of the trip was about. Being hot and tired and irritated and having to stop being snippy and be patient instead. Trying to keep a sense of humor. Not letting things slide into a complain-fest. It was a weird mix of unbridled joy as we frolicked on the sand and then everyone tired and grumpy as we tried to feed people and clean up for bed. I failed often, but I kept trying. 

Sitting back at home now, I do feel restored. More energetic, more purposeful. I think my path to restoration was getting unplugged (no phone service at camp!) and being immersed in all the senses and all the emotions. Feeling things strongly. Good things and bad things. Getting back into my body and mind instead of staying in a constant distracted or zoned out state. 

It was good. I’m thankful. 

The Lord is my Shepherd. He knows what I need. 

It’s Been a While

Hello Everyone. It’s been a while. I hope you all are well. I know I’ve not been consistently writing since January. I needed a break, and now I’m excited to have a place to share again. 

It’s summer here and school is out for a couple months. I purposefully did not make a lot of plans for the summer, but despite that, our schedule has still filled up so that my monthly calendar on the kitchen wall is filled with writing. 

This is the first summer in four years that it’s just our family. No foster kids. No other people staying with us. Just us. My oldest daughter came home for the summer which is an added bonus. My son who is in the army is now in Washington State and my seventeen year old is about to launch from the house for a summer of outreach all over the world. But, everyone else is close. It feels decadent. Rich. Luxurious. Just me and my family. It’s not a place I want to stay. I want to be someone who has a heart for people and is always helping in some way. But right now, this feels like a very necessary and very wonderful step in healing and recovering to just have a summer to breathe deeply, move slowly, and enjoy my family. 

This past year was kind of a double whammy for me. My youngest child entered school for the first time, and then after three years, at Christmas, my foster daughter returned to her own home. Two of the big things that identified me, stay-at-home mom of young children, and foster mom, were suddenly gone. Looking back, I can say that I have been mourning the loss of those roles. But, while I was in the middle of it, I wasn’t able to think clearly enough to say, YOU ARE MOURNING, and it’s normal, and you’ll be ok. Instead I just felt a bewildering combination of anger, sadness, depression, and numbness. Lost. 

I hope I can write more about that journey in the future. Right now I still feel like I’m in a discovery phase where I’ve got to figure out what this next stage of life looks like. Still a stay-at-home mom, but the kids need different things now. Not a foster mom any more, but still in contact with my foster daughter. My family still needs me, but I now have bigger chunks of time where I could do other things too. I’m praying for direction. But also feeling that right now I’m still in the resting stage. I’ve signed up to teach piano lessons one day a week at my church’s homeschooling Co-op and that will start in the fall. I’m excited about that. Something to look forward to. But I’m glad I’ve still got summer to enjoy before that begins. 

So, consider this the catch-up blog. I tell you why I’ve been gone and that I plan to start writing again. And then next time, I can just jump back into all the things I’ve thought about sharing with you all over the past months. I’ve read some good books I’d love to rant about. God has been gracious and merciful in so many ways. My kids have been up to the normal funny kid antics. I can’t wait to share! See you again soon. 

The Old Brown Buffet

When I was going into second grade, my family moved back to Eastern Kentucky from the missionfield. We moved back into an old trailer my parents owned, sitting on a mountainside lot on my grandparents’ farm. 

I remember some of the bustle as my parents tried to freshen up the trailer for living again. The old carpets were torn out. I remember going to a giant warehouse filled with giant rolls of carpet. Feeling each one as we walked past, wondering which one we were going to have. I remember the carpets getting laid down in the trailer, how clean and bright they made everything look. I didn’t want any furniture to ruin this perfect carpet. I remember rolling around and revelling in the softness and newness of it all. 

I remember visiting an auction held in a giant barn out in the middle of a field. I remember the auctioneer’s voice going through the call for bids and how wonderfully entertaining it was to just listen to him go on and on and on in his sing-songy voice. I remember that an old solid couch came home from that auction, took up one wall of the living room. 

We also had some new furniture. A shiny round glass top table with four square, modern looking wicker-type chairs with shiny chrome metal as their frame. 

And then there was an old brown buffet. I don’t know if we also got it at the auction or if my parents picked it up somewhere else. It was definitely not new. But it was warm, brown, solid. A cheerful addition to our mix of furniture. 

It sat in the corner of the living room. I think our TV sat on it. It had three drawers across the top and a long drawer underneath. We kept something in it that we used regularly. Maybe our cloth napkins and tablecloths? I can’t remember exactly, I just know that I had to open those drawers regularly, and they were always a pain to open. The drawers were stiff and if you didn’t pull it out exactly straight they would jam and stick. 

Once a week my mom would assign cleaning chores and I remember her handing me an old cloth and a can of “Pledge” cleaner that I would spray on that buffet and then wipe industriously with my cloth. Watching as the wood took on a soft shine.

I have a vague memory of perhaps being on top of the brown buffet when my parents weren’t home and my brother and I were playing some involved game that made it necessary to not touch the floor. (Ground is lava perhaps?)

The brown buffet did not necessarily play a significant  role in my childhood, I just remember it being there. When we moved back to Haiti the brown buffet went into my parents storage shed that sat on my grandparent’s farm. 

After I got married my husband and I eventually settled into Eastern Tennessee. When we purchased our first house we drove up to Kentucky and raided my parents storage shed. The brown buffet came home with us and settled into our dining room. That was about seventeen years ago. The brown buffet has sat in our dining room ever since. 

It is truly a buffet now. Every meal time, three times a day, I lay out the food on the brown buffet and serve the small children their plates from there and then the older kids serve themselves. In the mornings I lay out the bowels and the boxes of cereal on the brown buffet and kids serve themselves. Our silverware has a special container and it stays there permanently. 

Now that my dining room is also my kitchen, the brown buffet has become one of my counters. I lay my electric griddle on it so I can make pancakes. I set my various containers of food on it while I prepare a meal on the stove that sits right next to it. In the afternoons I put out bowels of fruit for the kids or plates of cookies. 

The drawers are still a pain to open so I try to only keep things in there that I don’t need to access regularly. I’ve got a drawer of old framed photos. A drawer of random decorating knick knacks I don’t use anymore. The bottom drawer holds all of the random odds and ends that my husband and I picked up on our international travels. Carved wooden statues from Haiti, tin cars from Nicaragua, pan flutes and a miniature chess set from Chile. Any time my kids need something international for school, the drawer opens and we dig around. I even have some things from my mom’s childhood in India. 

Today as I wiped off the brown buffet, clearing off dirty dishes, putting away random condiments that had been left out, I suddenly remembered myself as a small child, trying to open the drawers. And I had this thought. I wonder if this dear brown buffet ever thought, years ago, that it would come to live in my home one day. That the little girl who pushed and pulled on it, wiped it clean with pledge, and sometimes clambered all over it, would one day be the mom who was working to keep it clean and organized. And yes, you can say it’s just a piece of furniture. No thoughts or emotions. But I prefer to live in a world where maybe fairies really do exist, and maybe my old piece of furniture has fond thoughts about the family it lives with and maybe it smiles benevolently on us as it watches over our mealtimes. 

Rest is Hard

I am discovering that I am not good at resting. Resting feels like a guilty pleasure. Sinful. Lazy. Slothful. Not industrious. Not pulling your own weight. Slacking off. 

I’m in a weird in-between place right now. Our foster daughter went home after three years with us. I am finding that all the insanity of the last three years has not been processed and it is suddenly jumping up and down in my head. And I’m not just talking about fostering (which I’m going to say is the hardest thing I have ever done). How about a pandemic, family members being sick, big streak of violence in our neighborhood that turned my kids high school into a war zone, craziness in my little kids’ schools, someone close to me dealing with severe depression, discovering that one of my kids has some neurological differences, one of my kids growing up and leaving home, another one joining the army. And then quite a few other things that I’m not going to write about.

The past three years have been about surviving each blow and then running on to the next catastrophe. This is not to say I’ve been walking around in a horrible state of mind for three years. God is gracious and I have felt his love and peace with me throughout everything. But at some point in time you have to stop moving for a minute and just acknowledge that these things happened, allow yourself some time to work through the emotions, and then be able to lay it down and move forward. 

I feel like that is the place that God has put me in right now. And I don’t like it. It feels wrong. I’m not doing anything extra. Yeah, I’m taking care of my family, but nothing else. 

That “something else” is a tricky thing. We are saved by grace, not by works. But it’s really easy to fall into that “Grace Plus” mentality. I think I’ve written about this before. Probably because it’s one of the easiest traps for me to fall into. I’m saved by Grace PLUS I do this other ministry. I’m saved by Grace PLUS I’m a really moral, self-disciplined person. I’m saved by Grace PLUS I make no mistakes. I’m saved by Grace PLUS…you get the idea. 

When I reach these places where my ministry is over, some kind of transition has happened, I’m no longer doing all the things, I feel panicky. I can’t be pleasing to God when I’m just sitting here. God only likes me if I’m working. God only likes me if I’m producing. God only likes me if I’m doing all the extra stuff. 

I was in a church service several weeks ago and the minister said something about service to God and I cried out to God in my mind, Lord, what do you want me to do?? And he answered me. I’ll let you know when you need to know. Right now, just rest.

So, here I am trying to rest. And I’m not very good at it. I know that I am on empty right now. I really don’t have anything to give anyone at the moment. I’m trying to slowly rebuild habits of taking care of my body and mind and soul. Habits I used to have but which got thrown overboard when the storms of life got too crazy. 

And the hardest part is looking up at heaven and saying, Are you ok with this? I’m not doing anything. Are you sure this is ok? 

So, I grow in faith again.  Saved by grace. Not by works. It’s ok to rest. 

The Art of Being Invisible

Being invisible has been one of my core defenses since I was very young. If people don’t see you they won’t tease you. Bully you. Ridicule you. If people don’t see you then they won’t know you. If they don’t know you they don’t have any power to hurt you. 

In our society there are a lot of ways to become invisible. Being overweight is a good one. I read this article one time of a woman who did an artistic photo journey of her transformation from obesity to normal weight. One of the key things that stood out in her photos was the invisibility of being overweight. We are a society that puts a heavy emphasis on physical beauty and if you don’t fit into that category, you become invisible. 

Another way to become invisible which is more universal, is to simply not be young any more. Our books, movies, tv shows, advertisements, all focus on youth. Sure you can still stand out as an older person as long as you still have a youthful body, face, and style. 

As a mom I have found surrounding myself with children is a good way to make myself invisible. Everyone’s focus is on the children, Beauty! Youth! Sweet adorableness! 

Being overweight is a journey I’m still walking out. Ageing is inevitable. Being surrounded by kids has turned out to be my calling. These are all things that just make me invisible inevitably. Not choices I have particularly made. But the choice for invisibility that I do consciously make is the choice to be silent. 

In case you all haven’t noticed, I generally have a lot to say. As a kid in school, I was always the quiet one, but if the teacher asked a question in class, I had my hand raised, ready to answer. I like discussions. I like engaging in talks about ideas. I will gladly skip small talk, but if you open up with a heavy topic, I’m all in. 

Over the past months as our lives kind of spiralled out of control for a bit there and the amount of crazy life situations I was having to deal with reached an insane level, I resorted to all the defense mechanisms that always helped me survive in the past. Defense number one: become invisible. Retreat into silence. 

Now, I feel lke I am on the other side of the storm. There are some hurts and damage and I’ve got to help my kids walk through the healing process, but it feels like we have reached calm waters again. And I feel like I’m in a different kind of dangerous place. Being silent is comfortable. It feels safe. I sit here in my house, my kids have returned to school, and I have no desire to leave my cocoon. I have no desire to interact with anyone. Even in the relative anonymity of Facebook, I find myself writing and then erasing my comments because I just don’t want to engage. I don’t want to be seen. And while I feel like being invisible was necessary for the particular circumstances we were in, it’s not a place to stay. 

I have a great imaginary life in my head. Stories I come back to over and over again. In the past year, I have started analysing these stories. Why do I like these? What draws me to this story? And I have come to realize that the attraction in these stories is that it is someone invisible who becomes seen. Recognized. And through that recognition, given worth. I have a deep longing to be seen. To experience the true intimacy of being known. I know, in my mind, that God sees me. That Jesus’ work on the cross has already given me value. But somehow it feels like my ability to fully walk in that truth is wrapped up in my ability to also walk it out with the people around me. 

And so I find myself facing this new year wondering if I have it in me to open my mouth and speak again. To engage with people again. To take the time and energy to truly see the people around me and take the risk of letting myself be seen. 

The Christmas Newsletter

Hello Everyone, I know it’s been a while since I’ve written, and while I’m not yet at a place where I’m going to be writing regularly I wanted to give you all an update on life. 

December 11th, we went to court and our foster daughter was reunited with her birth family. It’s been a three year journey and we are happy at how it has all ended, but our family is going through a transition period. 

We had a rough Fall with some tragedy in the family from which we are still picking up the pieces.

My oldest son joined the army and I’ve had to wrap my head around that reality. But, he’s home for Christmas so that is wonderful. 

Both my husband and I had relatives pass away.  

My kids have been attending a small private Christian school and it has been a wonderful experience for them. They have blossomed. It has been a joy to see them do well in their school work, make good friends, get involved in school sports and just come home happy every day. 

My older kids continue to be awesome, working hard, pursuing their goals. 

I am in the December crunch, trying to manage everyone’s schedules, all the extra events and activities. Make all the festivities happen for the family. It’s busy, but a fun kind of busy. I do feel like I’m in a race though as we approach the last week till Christmas and I still haven’t finished all my Christmas shopping. Oh well. It will happen somehow and all come together at the last minute as usual. 

All my kids will be home for Christmas and I plan on just basking in togetherness these next couple weeks. 

I’ve thought about my blog off and on but have had no words to share. The reunification process of our foster daughter was pretty intense and now I feel like I’ve been carrying around a 100 pound weight for three years and suddenly it’s gone and I’m not sure what to do with myself. When I think about writing the only word that comes to my mind is Rest. So, that is what I plan on doing for the immediate future. Just let all these things settle into place in my mind and soul. 

I just want to let you all know that God is good. He has carried me through some pretty crazy situations. He has strengthened me and enabled me to do some really hard things. His grace and peace have covered me in the lowest valleys. I am overwhelmed at his goodness to me. I am excited to see what the future holds. And right now I plan on focusing on my family, celebrating Jesus, and resting. 

I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and take some time to ponder and wonder at how loved you are by God. 

Seeing the Light

I had a wonderful weekend. What made it so wonderful was the fact that we didn’t have to go anywhere. Minimal running around. Just doing chores around the house, homework. My husband worked on chopping wood in the yard. The younger kids did chores and then went outside to help their dad. Older kids buckled down to finish book reports that are due at the end of each month. I got my shopping done and put away. Got to practice some Christmas music with my husband. Just our family hanging around peacefully together. On Sunday we had a small potluck at our house and practiced more Christmas music with a group from our church. I got a phone call from my son who is in the army now. Sunday evening we sat around the fire and I read a big stack of books to my little kids. Just an all-round wonderful weekend. 

When I was a child and a teenager when I thought about adulthood, if I did at all, I thought about adventures. Travel. Movement. Now, as an adult, I still like travel and adventure, but those are more like fancy decorations on the cake. The cake itself is the main event. And I have found that the main event for me is the everyday living. Getting up in the morning, turning on the lamp and feeling warm and cozy in my bedroom. Rubbing my little boy’s head as I wake him up for school. Listening to the sweet chatter of my kids as they get ready for the day. Sitting in a quiet clean house and reading my Bible. Talking on the phone with my oldest daughter and laughing together over silliness. Going to the grocery store and recognizing the people that work there, having a friendly conversation in the checkout line. Exchanging text messages with my husband throughout the day.

How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!

    People take refuge in the shadow of your wings. 

They feast on the abundance of your house;

    you give them drink from your river of delights.

For with you is the fountain of life;

    in your light we see light.

Psalm 36:7-9

In my younger days when I would hear things like, “The abundance of your house”, “river of delights”, “fountain of life”, I think my mind went to material things. Wealth. Abundance of stuff. Experiences that only money can buy. I never thought about it as peace in the everyday living. Contentment with the path you are walking. The ability to see beauty and wonder in the normal world around you.  I am learning that when we walk with Jesus we are given the ability to see things through a completely different filter. “In your light we see light.” 

This morning my kids were getting ready for school. My son had finished his book report project which included making a board game out of legos for the book, “Journey to the Center of the Earth”. His siblings were very impressed and he took the time to explain it to them. And I sat there and watched them and I felt overwhelmed with how wealthy and rich I am. My children are like treasure chests full of costly jewels. They are incredible! Beautiful! Wonderful! And I have the amazing wonder of getting to be their mom and spend regular Monday mornings with them, eating breakfast, getting ready for school. My life is so rich in blessing. I don’t think there are sufficient words to describe how blessed I am. 

This isn’t a brag fest. It’s encouragement to take a look at your own life. The treasures are there, surrounding you. Take some time to see them! Walk in Jesus’ light so you too can see light. 

Do I Have a Servant Heart?

I read a difficult Bible passage this past week that has been stuck in my mind. 

“Suppose one of you has a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Will he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, ‘Come along now and sit down to eat’? Won’t he rather say, ‘Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink’? Will he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’” Luke 17:7-10

In our culture, reading anything about slaves tends to put my hackles up. Slavery is wrong. All men are created equally. We should be kind and considerate to everyone! I find it rather offensive to think about someone owning a slave, making them work out in a field all day and then making them come inside and have no rest and continue to serve their master. Is Jesus saying I should be a slave? That I am unworthy? 

Other Bible verses come to mind.  

I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. John 15: 15-16 

Not a servant. Friends. Chosen. 1 John 3:1 says that God loves us so much that we are called sons of God. Reading these other verses I don’t feel like my status with God is that of a lowly slave. 

As I’ve thought about the passage in Luke I’ve realized that it is a good measure of how much of a servant heart I have. How firmly embedded my pride and sense of entitlement are in my very nature. 

Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant,  and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Mark 10: 43-45

Yes, we are sons of God, Friends of Jesus. Chosen. Loved. But we are called to be like Jesus, and Jesus, despite being King of Kings, God, Creator, Ruler of all, he was a servant. And we’ve been called to be like Jesus and serve others. 

The other night I came home exhausted. Right after school I had to take two of my children to a location out West, thirty minutes away, and then after being there an hour and half, had to drive to another part of town to pick up another child from sports practice. I didn’t get home till 6:30pm and I had been driving in horrible rush hour traffic for over an hour. I had expected that my other family at home would have already eaten the supper I had left prepared for them. I anticipated just grabbing a plate of food for myself and being able to relax for a couple minutes. Instead, I walked in the door and found out that everyone else was waiting for me to get home before they ate. Nothing was set out. The table was littered with homework and toys and papers. Mess. I lost it. Had a total hissy fit. Much to the horror of my poor family who were simply anticipating a family meal together whenever I got home. Later, all I could think about was the passage in Luke and how far I was from having a true servant heart. Cause I had been working hard all day, and I wanted to come home and be served. Have some rest. Get some appreciation for how hard I had been working. And yes, there is a time and a place for rest and appreciation. But sometimes, everyone in the family has been working hard, everyone is exhausted, and what the family needs is someone to come in and patiently continue to serve. 

That is the heart I want to have. And sometimes I fail miserably. But I have to realize, having a servant heart is something I need Jesus to do inside of me. It’s not something I can get on my own. I hold to the promise that says,

being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6

I’m trusting that God will continue to soften my heart and teach me how to serve like Jesus.