Tag: prayer

Where is the American Church?

My daughter is an Americorp volunteer. She just received news today that her program is shut down. Effective immediately. This week I heard that the CASA/GAL program is losing their funding. These are programs that help children in foster care who have suffered abuse or neglect. Another news item said that the suicide hotline for LGBTQ youth will be shut down. Federal funding that sent food to local food banks has disappeared. Programs that help poor people pay for housing and help the homeless get housing have had their funds reduced. 

This is all part of Making America Great Again. 

I read an article this past summer where some Christian Nationalist groups were interviewed and one man said it was not the business of the government to be doing charitable work, it was the work of the church, and if Trump got in power things would be fixed. 

So, if the government is not supposed to be involved in helping the poor, the needy, the sick, the homeless, and certainly not the strangers and aliens in our country, then, where is the American church? 

I’m not talking about the churches who are already working with the poor and the needy and the sick and the homeless. They’re already doing their job and are maxed out to what they can do. Where is the rest of the American church? All of these government funding cuts are affecting real people in real time. Right now there are people suffering hardship because of these funding cuts. So, what’s the plan? Who’s going to take over caring for these needs? 

The Bible is pretty radical in what it says about helping others in need. Here’s a tiny tiny sample: 

Luke 3:11  “John answered, “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.”


Proverbs 31:8-9 “Open your mouth for the voiceless, for the rights of all who are destitute. Open your mouth and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.” 

Mathew 25:37-40 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Jesus desires humilty, grace, love, compassion. His followers seek the good of their neigbhors. We change the world by loving one person at a time. 

Where is the promised revolution where the American church will take care of charity so the government can turn its focus to whatever it’s thinking is more important? 

I am not worried about my daughter losing her funding for the work that she is doing. She is determined to serve and she will find a way to do so. But people like my daughter are kind of rare. And they can’t take care of everyone. I am waiting to hear about the flood of sermons preached in the Maga churches where the pastors will exhort their congregation to go out and get their hands dirty and help the needy in their immediate communities. Hey, guess what, the local food pantry is no longer being funded, let’s step up and fund them as a church. Hey, the program that helps homeless people achieve stability and housing just lost their funding. Send around the offering plate, let’s fund it. Hey, the foster care system is overflowing and they need foster parents, and lawyers, and volunteer workers, and open homes, and counselors, and doctors, and teachers and a whole other giant list of things, let’s make it happen. 

If I see the American church doing this on a large scale, and if this becomes our definition of Making America Great, then maybe there will be hope for us. 

And I pray, Lord have Mercy on Me, I have not done enough to help those in need. Lord have mercy on the American church, let us step up and obey your word. Lord have mercy on the downtrodden, the desperate, the needy. Change our hearts, soften our hearts, give us your compassion and love for those around us. Give us your eyes to see the value and beauty in the homeless person we drive by on our way to work. Break through our pride and apathy. Help us to lift our eyes up from our entertainment and see the suffering world around us. Give us vision and strategy to help our communities. Lord have mercy.

Share My Joy!

This morning I woke up at 4:30am, jerked awake by a million thoughts of all the things I need to get done. I checked my phone to see what time it was then lay back in bed, trying to make myself stop thinking so I could sleep more, but I finally gave up at 5:30am and just got up. Took a shower, got all my candles lit, put on Handel’s Messiah, snuggled up in the living room with a blanket and my dog and caught up on some Bible reading, while sipping a cup of tea. Pretty delightful actually.  

Now, I’ve got all the kids up, dressed, fed, lunches packed, homework in backpacks, younger kids delivered to their school, the teens’ vehicle filled with gas, confirmed report that they made it to school safely. Husband is out the door. My fire is going in my woodstove, snow is falling outside, my home is warm and cozy, Christmas music is playing and I have a deep desire to share all this peace and joy with everyone. 

In December we do an advent of a sort as a family. We have daily readings that we do followed with a little treat. This year we added reading through the book “The Heart of Jesus” by Dane Ortlund. Sitting every evening reading about Jesus’ constancy, his enduring love, his gentle and compassionate heart for us, has been wonderful. 

I become more and more aware of how richly blessed I am, and more and more aware that everything I have is because of Jesus. 

I am loved. I am accepted. I am able to use my gifts and talents daily to bless the people around me and bring joy to myself as well. 

My relationships are healthy. Not perfect, but when issues inevitably arise, I have God’s word and the Holy Spirit to help unravel any difficulties.  

I have hope for the future. I know that no matter what happens God is there and his plan will prevail. Death is not a scary prospect, rather it will be the moment that I will finally see Jesus face to face. 

I know that my children are in God’s hands and I can trust him with them. 

I have all that I need. And I have a long history on which to look back and see all the times God provided when we didn’t have the power to provide for ourselves. And that gives me confidence to not worry for future provision. 

I have peace in the storms. I have joy in the everyday things. 

I have Jesus. 

And it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This census first took place while Quirinius was governing Syria. So all went to be registered, everyone to his own city.

Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed wife, who was with child. So it was, that while they were there, the days were completed for her to be delivered.  And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:1-7

Jesus, the Son of God, came as a baby, lived the perfect life for us and then died as a sacrifice for our sins, then rose again on the third day so that we can have eternal life with him. He holds out his hand and says, 

 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

My prayer for everyone is that this Christmas will be about knowing Jesus and resting in his forgiveness and truly earth-shattering love for us. 

Wonderful Beautiful Monday

It’s a bright crisp Monday morning and I just got home from a two mile walk with my dog through the neighborhood. The sun was making the world glitter and the trees were just starting to show off their new autumn streaks of red and gold. It was cool enough to wear a thick sweater, but not freezing. Basically, just a perfect Fall morning. The song “To God be the Glory” has been running through my head since we sang it in church yesterday and I woke up humming it as I started my day. 

We had a really busy weekend and I’m looking forward today to just being home, keeping the laundry going, practicing piano, starting a new book I’m doing with a women’s bible study, maybe reading some more of my fun book I’m working on too. 

I feel happy. Joyful. And thankful. Because I know that this joy and happiness is a gift from God. It’s not my normal way of starting a Monday. The gift is that somehow God made himself present in my thoughts first thing today. Instead of waking up feeling tired and grumpy from having to get up early, stressing about the busy week ahead, I woke up singing. That was not something that I manufactured and did because I’m just a great person. Only the work of the Holy Spirit can make me wake up cheerful on a Monday morning. 😀

Last night before I went to bed, I finished the last chapter of “The Heart of Jesus How He Really Feels About You” by Dane Ortlund. I loved how the author ended the book. He concluded that instead of trying to figure out how we can take all the lessons we learned in the book and apply them to our lives, instead we just need to follow Matthew 11:28 and “Come to Jesus”. Bask in his love for us, his forgiveness, his heart for us. Just go to Jesus. Be with him. 

When you learn that Jesus is not angry with you. That his forgiveness is eternal, he is rich in mercy, that he yearns for us, that he is gentle and lowly, that his ways of loving and showing mercy are so much higher than our ways of loving and showing mercy. When you learn that he is gracious and slow to anger, that he is a tender friend, that his heart is beautiful. When you learn these things and then realize that you can actually spend every moment of your day with this God who loves you so richly. That you can talk to him and share your life with him, every good and bad moment. That you can spend your days seeing his goodness surrounding you and be able to thank him personally, and continually..Oh, what a wonderful day it is when you can live this out. 

This Monday is no different from any other Monday. There’s work to be done, stress to live through. Things will break. Money will come up short. Kids will fuss and fight. Bad news will show up. But, oh the difference, when you start the day with Jesus, feel his love, see his goodness. What a wonderful, beautiful Monday it is. 

Devastation in our Part of the World

For those who don’t live in the same part of the world as me, our big, breaking, horrible news is the floods and destruction that have hit our region due to Hurricane Helene. East Tennessee and Western North Carolina have been hit so hard, that my brain can’t wrap around it. Entire towns gone. Our main interstates and highways and bridges, washed out. There are still communities, today, where people continue to remain trapped in their homes, waiting for help. The city of Asheville was completely cut off. The death count is at 166 but there are still people missing and unaccounted for. 

I have been watching my news feed throughout all of this. Seeing in-the-moment pictures of the destruction, people calling out into the internet void for information about their community and friends and family. I want to use words like heartbreaking, and devastating, but those words feel cliche. 

East Tennessee and Western North Carolina are our family’s go-to place. We take drives there, vacations, adventures. I was at a basketball tournament in Asheville in January for my kids. My daughter and I had a weekend away at Biltmore last year. My husband and I have spent several weekends away tucked into different remote mountain communities. We joke about just abandoning all our responsibilities to go have breakfast in Maggie Valley. When I was thirteen, I attended a camp at Lake Junaluska where I had my first real encounter with a loving God. When people talk about where your favorite place is or where you want to retire, I always think of these mountains as the best place to be. 

And now, I don’t know what to think or feel. I don’t know how these communities are going to put themselves back together again. I don’t know how the families who have lost everything are going to recover or even manage the day-to-day living. I don’t know how all these roads and bridges can get fixed in any kind of timely way. The problem is so humongous that my brain just shuts off any time I try to think of it. 

I do know that so many people and organizations and churches and rescue people, and mule trains, and ham radio operators, soup kitchens, stores, everyone is reaching out to help. And I pray that this help can connect with every individual who has been affected. I pray that every person who has not been found and is waiting for rescue will be found today. I pray that every person who has been separated from family and friends and who are anxiously waiting for news will hear that news today and it will be good news. I pray that everyone who has gone to help will be able to coordinate and work well together. 

The world is frightening. Terrifying. Natural disasters destroying people’s lives. Wars tearing the fabric of our humanity apart. Unrest. Instability. Famine. Starvation. After a while, our hearts and brains can no longer handle the knowledge of so much devastation, and we turn our brains off. Go numb. Try to distract ourselves with entertainment. 

How do we live in the face of so much suffering? 

I don’t know.  But I will hold onto Jesus and take it one minute at a time and pray that I can somehow find a way to help someone today. 

Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted. 

While I was Walking in the Park…

This summer was very sedentary for me. So, as I approached the new school year starting up, I thought about what baby steps I could take to get myself moving again. I decided the easiest thing to do would be to drop the kids off at school in the mornings and then go straight to the park that is close to my home, walk a mile, and then go home. Quick, easy. Once walking a mile becomes easy, I can make the walk longer. And once long walks are no longer difficult I can start adding in more exercises. It’s a plan. 

School started last week for us, and the first day of school, I dropped off kids and headed to Dragon Park. That is not its official name, but on the playground it has a large plastic dragon/water serpent type head coming out of the ground that kids can climb on. The first time I took my kids to this park, about twenty years ago now, my kids immediately started calling it the Dragon Park, and the name stuck. 

The park is very pretty. It has a quarter mile walking trail that encircles a large playground with a pavilion, a rock garden, and a large grassy field that has a little squared off section with workout equipment in it. There’s a tree-lined road that runs right next to the park and on the other side of the road is a small baseball field complex and then at the end of the park is a large parking lot and then a community center and beyond that, a YMCA. 

One side of the park has a road running along it, and the other side of the park has a big thicket-like line of trees that hides the presence of a big creek. The creek collects all the runoff water from the city and is very polluted and there are signs warning people away, but the trees and brush effectively hide its presence. 

The first day I started walking I noticed the other people in the park. There was one other lady walking, the opposite direction of me, and we nodded and smiled as we passed each other. In the pavilion an older couple was sitting at one of the picnic tables. They had a couple duffel bags and other small bags surrounding them, and an older dog sitting with them. They looked like homeless people who had found a place to camp out for the day. 

In the rock garden there was a man sitting in a blue patio chair, the metal kind, that rocks. He had a radio on his lap and I could hear some distant voice giving the news for the day. He also had a bag with him and gave the appearance of someone sitting out on their back patio as they enjoyed their morning coffee. Except that he was rocking back and forth so quickly in his chair that all sense of peace was shattered. Probably another homeless person. 

As I passed the little exercise equipment square I saw a younger woman wearing only a bra and some pants. She was sitting on the edge of the square, knees bent, head in her hands. She did not look like she was doing well. I wondered if I should stop and ask if she needed help, but then realized she was holding a phone in her hand and was talking to someone on speakerphone. 

As I kept walking I watched the lady in the bra gather her things and go stand by the road. Waiting for something. I watched another man, no shirt, riding a bike, go up to the man in his patio chair to talk. They seemed to be friends. The older couple with the dog said a friendly hi to me as I passed by and we exchanged greetings. 

Every day that I went back to the park I saw pretty much the same thing. Man rocking in his patio chair. Older couple with their dog, just sitting, always with a friendly greeting. Man on the bike coming to talk to his friend. I didn’t see the lady in the bras any more, but I thought about her. An occasional person also walked the track. 

Then, on Thursday, things had shifted a bit. There was another woman standing at the edge of the rock garden. There was a water spout about waist high that looked like it was supposed to be reserved for Park Services workers. She had managed to turn it on a bit and was washing her legs in the stream. Not very efficiently. More like she was just standing under it, in a daze. The man in the patio chair obviously felt like his space in the rock garden had been invaded and he now had his patio chair under the pavilion. The older couple from the pavilion had set up a tent on one of the play structures and were sitting outside the tent door, on the play structure, looking like they were living their best camping life, dog tucked next to them. 

I made it around one lap and then saw three police cars pull into the parking lot. Six policemen got out and started walking purposefully towards the park. I paused. I’ve been in this neighbohood for a long time and have learned the police have no problem intiating dangerous activities while innocent bystanders are in the area. It’s up to the innocent bystanders to get themselves out of the way. So I paused. Should I leave? Or do I keep walking awkwardly and pretend like I’m not watching them arrest someone? I decided to stay a bit longer and see what happened. 

The policemen walked straight towards the woman under the water faucet and with very little fuss handcuffed her hands behind her back. She offered no resistance and didn’t even seem to be talking. I kept walking. From a distance I watched as they gathered her belongings up into a pile. They were all just standing there talking quietly amongst themselves. The woman also just stood there, hands cuffed, looking like she was not really present in her body. 

What really surprised me was the couple in the tent did not move. Even I know that you can’t set up a tent on a playground, but they seemed unphased by the presence of the police in the park and just continued to lounge outside their tent. 

I kept walking.

Then, as I was going into my last lap, I watched the police uncuff the woman and she slowly wandered away. I watched them go up to the couple in the tent and start lecturing them. The man in the blue patio chair continued to rock under the pavilion. I finished my last lap and headed to my car. 

My husband and I have had several friends experience homelessness and have tried to help them during those times. We have homeless shelters in our city. When we have suggested those to our friends they have had varied reasons for not wanting to go. Couples get separated. They can’t take their pets. They feel unsafe. Constraints on their actions that they don’t feel like complying with. Even if they chose to go to a shelter, it was just for nighttime. During the day they had to figure out where to go. 

I don’t know the answer to homelessness. For myself, I don’t mind homeless people in the park. But, I would have reservations about my young adult daughters exercising there alone. I would not feel comfortable bringing my little kids to play on playground equipment that has tents set up on it. During my twenty years of visiting this park, there has always been someone camped out at the picnic tables under the pavilion, but this is the first time that I have seen people treating the park as if it’s their home. 

I don’t have the answer and so I pray. I pray for hope for the man in the patio chair. For new vision for a future for the older couple. I pray for freedom from addictions and debilitating mental health issues. I pray for wisdom for our city leaders as they try to make our city a good place for all the people who live here. And I pray that I can see people as humans with stories and needs instead of lumping them into a faceless, nameless group called the Homeless. 

The Gospel PLUS

One of my pastors made a comment that if some act that you were doing caused you to feel more righteous than someone else, then you were adding on to the Gospel. The Gospel PLUS. The Bible tells us that Jesus’ death on the cross completely covered the debt we owed for our sins. We come to Jesus in faith, repent of our sins, and he forgives us. We then walk out our lives learning how to listen and obey him and through that process he changes us to become more like him. But it’s not our obedience and our listening that saves us. It’s Jesus’ work on the cross, a free gift to us. 

That is a hard concept. We like to feel like we are earning our way. Let me work for that. Surely, I need to be doing something to deserve this. And then we take concepts like prayer and Bible reading, and service and we turn them into laws. Things we must do to earn grace. If I don’t get up every morning and read my Bible and pray for an hour, then I’m not really saved. If I don’t fast once a week then I’m not really holy. If I don’t take one day a week and spend the entire day devoted to church and rest then I’m not really following after God. 

All of these things, Bible reading, prayer, fasting, sabbath rest, all of these things are gifts that God has given us to enable us to learn more about him, to enter into his presence, to come alongside him in his work here on the earth, to keep our bodies and minds healthy and whole. They are gifts that we have been given, and the more we use them, the more blessed we are. But doing these things does not save us. Jesus’ work on the cross is what saves us. 

I think back to things that I have done that were good and healthy and blessed our family, but I know that deep down I did feel “more righteous” than others because I did them. Things like homeschooling, or eating super healthy, daily family devotions. All good things. All things that I’m glad that we did. But, I wish my heart attitude had been different. I wish that I had known to hold these practices lightly, to not feel the stress of HAVING to do these things in order to be righteous. But instead to just rejoice that God made these things possible for our family as a blessing to us. 

RIght now I find myself struggling a bit. I am not actively involved in any kind of ministry. My children are. And I help them get to and from the places they need to be. But I myself am not doing anything. And I remind myself that my family is my first priority. My main ministry. But I feel guilty for not doing more. And that is definitely coming from a Gospel PLUS mentality. If I’m not actively serving somewhere then I’m not earning my way. 

In the past, I have never actively sought out ministry. A need has simply arrived on my doorstep, so to speak, and I have responded to that need. And I keep waiting for something to be brought to my attention that I can help with and nothing has shown up. And deep in my heart, I’m thankful that nothing has shown up, because this has been an emotionally difficult summer as I’ve watched my kids scatter all over the place, pursuing their dreams, growing up, leaving the nest, and I’ve had to fight the duel feelings of overwhelming pride that they have grown up so well and have so much to offer the world, and deep sorrow that they are no longer little and no longer apart of my daily interactions. 

And so I have to learn how to trust that God does not need all my works in order to deem me acceptable to him. Jesus already took care of that. I am saved. I’m adopted in. I am loved. And I’m available. He will use me as he sees fit, and I can relax and wait on his timing. Keep doing the things that are set in front of me. Wash the dishes, fold the laundry, feed the family. Love on my babies that are still here. And just rest in the Gospel. 

LARGE PROBLEMS vs Living Hope

The past couple months my husband and I have run into several rather LARGE PROBLEMS. And they have all seemed to follow the same pattern. LARGE PROBLEM makes itself known. Stress. Panic. Prayer. And then a possible solution appears. The solution is humongous. It would take God for this to happen. But there’s actually a small chance that it could happen. Soon. In the near future. And so we wait. This time with some hope. Then here comes the next LARGE PROBLEM and we go into the same pattern. Possible solution shows up. It’s going to take God for that to actually happen. But it could. Hope shows up again. And we wait. Next LARGE PROBLEM…etc. Right now I am waiting for three miraculous things to happen. None of the problems are solved yet. But there’s hope. They could get solved soon, in the very near future. And I continue to pray, throughout the day as I think about it, please Lord, let these solutions happen. 

It’s kind of a weird place to be. But I realized as I was thinking about it recently, that those possible solutions that may or may not happen did something for me. They took me out of a place of despair and put me back in a place of hope. And now that hope has come back, I am able to realize that even if none of those solutions happen, God will still take care of us and help us find a different way. 

Our church is doing a sermon series on 1 Peter, and yesterday we tackled 1 Peter 1:1-12. The part that stood out to me was the part about hope. 

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 1 Peter 1: 3-5

As a Christian we live in a kind of waiting period. We have an inheritance that we will one day finally realize, but for now we wait. But at the same time, we are living out our inheritance here on earth. Ephesians 1:13b-14 says:

When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.

Not only do we have an inheritance that we will realize when we die or when Jesus returns, but here on earth we have the Holy Spirit inside of us, teaching us, comforting us, leading us on this journey that we are on. 

I am now forty-five years old. I have four children who are eighteen and older. I have to admit, I’ve been feeling a bit old. (Yes, it’s relative! Everyone older than me thinks I’m still a young’un. ) But, I’ve been feeling older. While our culture tells you that not being young is the worse thing that can happen to you, I am finding that I don’t agree. I’ve now had forty-five years to see the faithfulness of God. And the more miracles you see, the more confident you become. I can tell you with all assurance that I live a life full of hope in God. 

It’s a living hope. Not “good vibes”. Not karma. Not faith in humanity. Not luck. It’s acknowledging that there is a God and he sent his son Jesus to take the punishment for our sins so that we could be right with him and be in relationship with him. It’s knowing that the Holy Spirit, part of the Three-In-One God, lives inside of me. It’s knowing that any trials that come my way will work towards shaping me to become more like Jesus. It’s knowing that my past and future are in his hands and if God is for me, who can be against me? It’s knowing that if I die today, I will be with Jesus in heaven, and I know that he will take care of my loved ones, even if I am no longer there to do so. It’s knowing that the LARGE PROBLEMS that come my way will not change my standing with God and will not take away my peace. And when it seems like the only answer is going to have to come in the shape of a miracle, I can nod and say, Ok, I know God does miracles, so I will wait and see how he decides to work in this situation. 

I don’t like LARGE PROBLEMS. They are uncomfortable. But they do a really good job of reminding me about hope and who my hope is in. And so I wait, not knowing how this will all play out, but confident that God has his hand on me and any LARGE PROBLEM that comes my way. 

We’re All Growing Up

My little kids are growing up. It’s been happening slowly, inching along. And then suddenly I lifted my head up, glanced around and realized everything was different. 

I was at the library this week with my kids and they all went off on their own to find their books. They each had their own library card so I wasn’t needed for any part of the process. Even my youngest child knows how to go to the librarian and ask about particular books they are looking for and place holds for books they want that aren’t available. In the past, I would walk through all the read-a-loud shelves and choose a big pile of fun looking stories that I would take home. And then I would sit on the couch for an hour, surrounded by kids while I read and read and read. My fingers still itch to grab those shiny covers off the shelf. But I no longer do. After bringing home books several times that nobody wanted to listen to because they were too busy reading their own long chapter books, I finally gave up. And that makes me really sad. I loved reading those books. 

I saw a meme today about a parent getting really frustrated at their young children not putting their shoes on in a timely manner. And I laughed. I remember those days. 

Where are your shoes???? Shrug. When did you last see your shoes??? Shrug. Where have you looked so far for your shoes???Shrug. AAACCKK!!! 

But now, we have shoe boxes by the door, and somehow everyone has managed to get trained enough that they leave their shoes at least somewhere in a 10 foot radius of the shoe boxes. And sometimes, actually in the shoe boxes. I tell everyone to get their shoes on, and five minutes later, it’s done. Who knew this was possible. Gone are the days of looking in cars, under beds, by the trampoline, behind the bathroom door, under a pile of dirty laundry. And I can say, that I don’t miss those days at all. 

My older teens occasionally tell some story from when they were little and I am often surprised at how I am portrayed in their memory. I find myself apologizing. I’m sorry sweetie. I was a different mom then. I was a baby mom. And I’ve grown up a lot since then. 

And this is something I’ve never given much thought to. We have kids, and we look forward to watching them grow up. We celebrate every milestone. We have books that tell us what new thing our child should do soon, and we look for hints and clues that our babies are on their way to mastering this newest level of development. We document everything with photos. And then they grow up and we think it’s done. Everyone’s bodies are fully developed. End of story. But it’s not. Our entire lifetime is spent growing up. 

Looking back I can think of some milestones I passed. When I learned to stop throwing a temper tantrum when my toddlers created chaos and wreaked havoc. When I learned to stop yelling so much. When I learned to not explode when my child spilled something or broke something. When I learned how to take myself away and calm down before dealing with something volatile. When I learned that my young teen saying they hate me or some other mean thing, was really just another developmental stage for them, and I didn’t have to feel like a complete failure as a parent. 

Growing up happens in other walks of life too. Last night we attended a marriage class at our church and in our small group discussions, I realized just how far my husband and I have come from our early days of marriage. How we’ve learned to love each other so much better than when we first started. Growth. Growing up. 

In Ephesians 3:14-19 Paul has a prayer for the church. And I’m going to loosely paraphrase it for you. Paul prays that we would be strengthened by the Holy Spirit so that through faith, Christ can live in our hearts, and we can be able to comprehend just how wide, high, long and deep is Christ’s love for us. That we would know his love, and through that be filled with the fullness of God. 

It was a prayer. A looking forward. You don’t have this yet, but I pray that you will. A prayer for growth. 

I believe that it is growth in this area, learning just how much Jesus loves us, that promotes growth in all the other areas of our adult lives. I learn to love my children better and parent them better as I learn more about Jesus’ patience and compassion. I learn to love my spouse better as I learn more about Jesus’ self-sacrifice and long suffering. And I learn how to love the people around me as I learn more how Jesus values me and lavishes unearned favor on me. 

May we all never stop growing up. 

Not in Control

When I was a kid I was terrified of the dark. Bedtime was an ordeal. I always had to have a nightlite on, door open, hallway light on. I often got up in the night and went to my parents’ room. They often had to sit outside my door to help me go to sleep. 

During that time I established some rituals that seemed rather obsessive compulsive. I had a lot of stuffed animals. A lot. I loved them dearly and played with them often. At bedtime I had to have them all with me. On my bed. If they were not on my bed then they had to be in the exact spot I designated for them where I felt that they were all safe and snug together, no one left out. Now, I can see that it was a way to establish control and to give myself a sense of security. My stuffed animals were my children and I made sure they were all safely together, no one alone in the dark. I can still remember that panic that would well up if some fell off the bed, or I was missing one. There was no way I could be at peace unless they were all where they were supposed to be. 

Last night I had a sudden flashback to that time of my life because I could feel the same sense of panic welling up again. My oldest daughter spent the summer with us, but now she was returning to college and the place she has made her own home. And suddenly another one of my children was not going to be safe under my roof where I knew she would not be alone in the dark somewhere where I couldn’t reach her. 

When I was a kid it took me a while to get over my obsession. Some of it was outgrowing the need, and some of it was being in situations where I simply couldn’t control where everything was and so I just had to learn to accept that. 

As a parent I’ve had a lot of practice learning how little control I have over my children. Especially my grown up ones. I can’t keep them all safely around me. I can’t control what they think and believe. I can’t control what decisions they make. I can’t control what the world throws at them. 

Last night, instead of trying to stuff the panicky feeling deep down where I could ignore it for a while, I addressed it head on. Ok. My daughter is leaving. I no longer get to see her every day and that makes me sad. I am now stepping back to phone calls, silly texts, and praying for her every day. And right there, that is where the peace comes in. I can pray for my kids twenty-four hours a day if needed. I am not in control. But God is. I can’t protect them. But God can. I can’t provide every single little thing they need. But God does. 

I can trust God with my children.  

The sense of feeling in control is something I’ve had to learn to hold lightly. Sure, I’ve got control of some things, until suddenly I don’t. (Think 2020!) But, we have not been called to keep everything in order under our thumb. We’ve been called to trust God. Have faith in him. And in that trust and faith is where we find peace. 

Basketball, Car Trouble, Faith

This past weekend I got to take my kids to their first basketball tournament. It was a lot of fun. Our teams played well. Our boy’s team got second place. Yay team! Our girls played hard. Our cheerleaders were awesome. I had a lot of fun getting to know other parents from our school. 

I did learn something about myself. I have never been a sports person. I’m not athletic and I’ve never particularly felt like watching other people play sports. Now, I’m wondering if I don’t watch sports because subconsciously I just know I can’t handle that level of excitement/stress/anxiety/emotional involvement. The girls championship game came first before our the boys championship game and I was watching and I did not know anyone on the court and I found myself getting so upset and yelling (it was a vicious game) and cheering and I felt ALL THESE EMOTIONS and I was thinking, good grief, I’m not cut out for this kind of excitement. And then I had to watch our team play right after that. Needless to say, by the time the tournament was over I was wiped out. 

We had to travel to North Carolina for the tournament which meant we had around a six hour drive back home. I made a joke to some of the other parents about hoping I didn’t break down on the way home (FORESHADOWING). I should have kept my mouth shut (FORESHADOWING). I really wasn’t worried though. My husband had just recently fixed some things and taken the same car for a road trip and had no problems.

Just a little information. Our family drives old cars. My husband buys them cheap and then fixes them up cause he’s got skills like that. If my car breaks down, I call him, he comes and rescues me, we move on. I don’t love it. It’s what we do to live on the budget we have. It works well enough. Also means I’ve got lots of crazy stories. 

So, I’m zipping along the interstate, already feeling a little stressed. I don’t like driving at night. I don’t like driving when I’m tired. I was keeping myself pumped up with loud praise music, caffeine and sugar. Then suddenly a bright yellow, CHECK ENGINE light starts flashing and I start losing power. My car slows down about 10 mph and then does a little kick and keeps going and then the whole car starts jerking so I pull over. In the dark, on the side of a mountain road. Nothing around us. I no longer need caffeine and sugar. I’ve got pure adrenaline pumping through my veins. 

I will tell you another thing about myself. When I am in a high stress situation, I start praying out loud. And maybe swearing a bit too. It’s a weird mix. My two middleschoolers sit silently and watch me. Unfortunately for them, they’ve been in this situation before. I call my husband who walks me through some things to check. I open the hood of the car like I know what I’m doing, while my son holds my cellphone/flashlight. Everything checks out. So now my husband knows what is NOT the problem. He finally tells me to start driving again, slow down, see what happens. I check my fuel gauge, I’ve got a quarter tank, I need to stop soon and get gas (FORESHADOWING). 

So I start driving again, out-loud praying has resumed. I quickly discover that when driving on flat stretches or going down hill, my car can go about 60mph before it starts jerking. Going up hill I have to slow down to around 40-45mph. Did I also mention that I’m just starting to head up the mountain pass through the Smokies? 

It’s dark. It’s late. I’m constantly having to slow way down, put on my hazard lights and crawl my way up the mountain. And I’m just trying to get home. I turn off the heater because that has caused problems in the past, so now I’m freezing, got my gloves on, gripping the steering wheel hard. Music is off because I was using my phone to listen to music and realized my battery is low, and I don’t have the proper adaptor to charge my phone in the car. 

I’m driving along, we’ve passed all the cities and we are now smack in the middle of the mountains. Suddenly, no matter how much I slow down, my car won’t stop jerking. Out loud praying and swearing starts again. I look at my gas gauge, I’m below the E line. Way below. I forgot to get gas. I was so focused on trying to keep my car moving, I FORGOT GAS!! Y’all. I’m not cut out for the adventurous life. I don’t have the brain cells to keep track of everything when I’m stressed. I felt like such an idiot. And my prayer became, LORD, I’M AN IDIOT. PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON ME. And I almost fell apart. And it’s weird, but at that moment, I suddenly thought of a book I am reading. In the book the main character is a leader with people under him. And he really takes that responsibility to heart. They look to him for help and he knows it’s his job to help them. And I thought, there is no way an author can create a character who is better than God. God is the one charge of taking care of me, and he takes that responsibility a lot more seriously than some character in a book. He’s going to help me. And then my son quickly points out a rest area sign, Look MOM! A rest area! I debated with myself for a moment. There’s no gas at a rest area, but at least it’s a safe place, better than the side of the road and there will be people who can help me. 

We pulled in and there was a lady outside as part of the cleaning crew. I went up to her and explained my problem and she pulled out her phone and called the Highway Patrol. (*HP if you ever need to call them!). Highway patrol came about ten minutes later and gave me two gallons of gas. We got back on the road and had a little more stress trying to find a gas station out in the middle of nowhere that would be open at 11pm. But, I pulled into a closed gas station and their pumps were on. We got gas, and an hour later I finally got home. 

In the midst of all this, when everything started going crazy, my daughter asked in an uncertain voice, “Are we ok?” And I said, Listen, I’m going to get you home. I guarantee that. There might be some adventures between now and home, but we will get home eventually. And apparently her faith in me was strong because she wrapped herself up in a blanket and went to sleep and slept through all the rest of the craziness. My son even managed to sleep a bit once I got gas in the car. 

As I was getting close to home, I couldn’t help thinking, WHY??? And what came to my mind was that my two middleschoolers got to watch their mom handle a stressful situation. They listened to me pray and ask Jesus to help us and get us home safely and then they got to watch Jesus help us and get us home safely. And they also heard me acknowledge his help and thank him. Christian discipleship. I show you what the Christian walk looks like, and you learn from watching me. And you grow in your faith. And in the process I grow in my faith too. 

Next time though, I think I might rent a car.