Wonder Woman, Here’s Your Cape

October 21, 2013Leave a comment

Pride is such a sneaky slave-master.

It confuses and deceives, tricking you into feeling free, distracting you so that you never notice the slow clinking of the restraints on your wrists, the ever-increasing weight of the chains on your legs, dragging you down, holding you back, restraining your worship and your service.

Friends encourage you. Loved ones compliment you. A boss pats you on the back. They say: How well you are doing, how quick…how strong….how capable……and slowly you believe it.

Slowly you try to live up to it.

Because if you admit just for a second that you’re needy or weak, struggling in hidden ways, tearful, hurt, broken, tired, or sad, you’ve taken a hammer to that pristine persona. You’ve shattered the image of The Woman in Control or whatever fake statuesque creation you’ve built onto that shaky pedestal for others to see.

The truth is it’s hard to admit you’re not Super Girl or Wonder Woman, complete with cape, tights, mask and heroic strength and powers.

Because of pride, that’s why.

Most of us, after all, choose the super hero costume over the average, flawed, everyday, hard-working but imperfect woman we really are underneath all that bright-colored spandex.

But God won’t let us. Not forever, anyway.

He gently reveals our weakness on the tough days:

….When we forget the appointment.

….Or lose our temper with our kids.

….Or pack our husband’s lunch but leave out the sandwich.

….Or put away the groceries one morning only to find the frozen broccoli a week later defrosted and disgusting in the pantry and the box of pasta iced over in the freezer.

I’ve been there, done that, refused to wear the t-shirt.

Truly, I need the grace.

I need the reminder that on the days I actually remember to sign my kids’ school agenda books and send in the right forms with the right child….on days when I get everybody ready for school AND manage a shower and makeup myself (even more so if I actually get to dry my hair)…that this isn’t because I have super powers.

It’s because I have God.

He helps me. He gives me rest. He strengthens me when I’m feeling worn down and He gives me energy when I’m sleep-deprived. I can’t take credit for that. I can’t accept the compliments from others and let it go to my heart and my head, making me think that I sure do have it all together.

I think of Peter’s mother-in-law, feverish and ill in bed when Jesus and His disciples stopped by for an unexpected visit (Matthew 8:14).

That poor woman, too sick to pretend to be Martha Stewart. Guests sat in her living room and she couldn’t pour cups of iced tea and serve cookies. She couldn’t tidy up quickly when she heard them knock on the door and hide the dirty dishes and the pile of clean clothes before inviting them in.

She needed Jesus in her moment of frailty. He healed her and then she could serve. He equipped her and then she could give.

On her own, she lingered frail and tired in the sick-bed, but in Christ and through Christ she rose in worship and thanksgiving to care for Jesus and His followers.

And when I’m struggling, it doesn’t mean I need to pull myself together all on my own. It means I need Jesus.

I need to lean in more onto Christ’s steady shoulders. I need His counsel, His wisdom, His help to be disciplined and discerning.

Or maybe it means I need to give myself the grace to accept help from others.

Either way, it requires being real and downright honest about who I am (plain old regular human being Heather) and who I’m not (endowed with superhuman powers of perfection and infallibility).

Maybe more of us need to make that honest confession.

I, ____________________ (insert your name here), am in need of God and in need of grace. I’m not perfect. I don’t always have it together. Sometimes I’m a mess. I often make mistakes. But I’m forgiven and God promises to help me do everything He’s called me to do.

That’s the challenge, isn’t it? To remember Paul’s prayer:

Now may the God of peace…equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen (Hebrews 13:20-21 NIV).

We’re equipped to do His will, not to do everything we volunteer for or everything others ask us to do or every good service and fun event we could pencil onto our calendars.

He gives us everything we need to fulfill the calling He’s given us today and no more than that.

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her upcoming book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, will be released in the Fall of 2013! To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

Ask Me Anything: Seeing The Impossible

October 18, 2013January 23, 20142 Comments

“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people”
Ephesians 1:18, NIV

When Hagar ran off into the wilderness with her son for the second time in Genesis 21, she ended up wandering in the Desert of Beersheba. She was a homeless single mother, without friends, caring for her boy in unfamiliar desert territory and running out of supplies.

Her circumstances were desperate.

Placing Ishmael under a bush, she walked away so she wouldn’t have to watch him die. “And as she sat there, she began to sob” (Genesis 21:16 NIV).

It’s in the impossible situations where God is often most visible.

So it was with Hagar. God visited with her once again and asked:

“What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Lift the boy up and take him by the hand, for I will make him into a great nation.”

Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. So she went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink” (Genesis 21:17-19 NIV).

Just like His question, “Where have you come from and where are you going,” this new question, “What’s the matter, Hagar?” shows that He was concerned about her. He knew where she was and what her circumstances were. Not only that, but He opened her eyes to see the deliverance He had prepared for her.

Nothing about Hagar’s circumstances changed. She was still a homeless single mother, short on provisions and without friends or direction.

It’s possible that God miraculously placed a new well nearby where she sat. Scripture simply says “God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water.”

It could also be, though, that the only thing that changed was Hagar’s vision. Blinded by impossibilities and overwhelmed with despair, Hagar had given up when a well was so close. God revealed to her grace and provision that she simply hadn’t seen before.

In the same way, God miraculously gave supernatural sight to Elisha’s servant in 2 Kings 6:15-17. Surrounded by an impossibly large enemy army with horses and chariots, the servant cried out in despair, “Oh no, my lord! What shall we do?” Clearly, they were doomed to defeat. Yet, Elisha assured his anxious friend:

“‘Don’t be afraid . . . those who are with us are more than those who are with them.’ And Elisha prayed, “Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see.’ Then the Lord opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2 Kings 6:15-17 NIV).

Suddenly their odds of winning didn’t seem so impossible anymore, yet their reality was unchanged. Those heavenly defenders had been there all along; the servant simply hadn’t seen them.

Pray that God will open your eyes to His provision and plan for you.

Sometimes we feel that our circumstances are too impossible even for God. We forget that He is the God of creation, who spoke the sun and moon and all of the earth’s creatures into existence out of nothing.

God hasn’t stopped being a creator God. He can create something out of nothing. He can place wells where there has been no water. He can create a heavenly army to deliver you when you are defenseless.

Remember that, “With man this is impossible, but not with God. All things are possible with God” (Mark 10:27 NIV). You can trust that the God Who Sees you will know what you need exactly when you need it.

To pre-order a copy of this book, click here.

For more information about the book release, you can click here.

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her upcoming book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, will be released in the Fall of 2013! To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

Accepting this Gift

October 16, 2013January 23, 20142 Comments

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

That’s what I ask, but there isn’t anything right now….and that’s hard.

It’s hard to be one so used to serving, doing, and giving now mostly watching as another serves me.

This, after all, is a love note I write to my family: one husband, three daughters, now one tiny son. In lunches packed, laundry washed, games played, songs sung, books read, homework helped, appointments made, chauffeuring done, I say, “I love you.”

But this is his message now to me in these first two weeks of life with a newborn, and it’s beautiful and yet all so overwhelming because part of me rebels and revolts, thinking, “I should be doing this.”

Yet, it’s my husband clearing up the dinner table, washing each dish, and there he is driving three far-too-busy daughters to dance classes three times a week and shuttling children back and forth to school and then from school day after day.

He pushes the cart in the grocery store and carries the baby carrier into the church. He serves the cereal in the morning and then bounces a restless newborn while I fix ponytails and bows into long blonde hair.

He forgoes sleep so I can sleep.

He’s been serving me all along, all these years of working hard and caring for me in many ways. But now it’s all-the-time service; it’s middle-of-the-night and throughout the day every day and it’s taking over my jobs and chores in addition to his own normal tasks.

I find it so hard to rest and accept the gift of love…to allow someone else the chance to say:

“I love you” as I wash this dish.

“I love you” as I care for these children.

“I love you” as I sacrifice and as I serve.

It still feels like it should be me giving, not receiving…doing, not resting….loving, not being loved.

Yet, I sit for so much of every day and every night now, cradling a newborn, feeding him, changing him, cooing over him, praying for him, running my hands over his soft skin and kissing his totally kissable cheeks.

And I think….

What if this helpless babe refused my help?

What if, in his need, he declined my acts of love?

He’d be utterly desperate, hungry, filthy. He’d be completely incapable of thriving. He could try as he might to function with determined independence, but he’d fail and he’d suffer.

He needs me to love him.

And I need to let others and let Christ love me with this unmerited, unselfish, undemanding grace, as well.

Paul wrote:

“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not nullify the grace of God” Galatians 2:20-21.

Nullifying grace. How could we do this?

How could we take the amazing grace of God as it pours down all over us and soaks us right through and reject it, make it thoroughly null and void and ineffective in our lives?

Surely it’s by trampling all over this sacrificial gift of God of blessing and forgiveness, salvation and daily mercy, with declarations of our own independence.

It’s refusing the gift and trying instead to earn it. It’s refusing to receive and demanding instead to be the one doing, serving and giving always.

It’s shaming myself for imperfections and living trapped in self-condemnation instead of accepting the freedom Christ offers.

And really, deep down is the ugly truth, it’s making faith all about me and my performance, and not at all about Him and His sacrifice.

Like Peter, I’m tempted at times to refuse the humility of Christ as He bends low to wash my feet. How shocking to see the Messiah on His knees.

Foolish Peter—he didn’t know how much He needed a Savior who served, so he told Jesus at the Last Supper, “No…you shall never wash my feet” (John 13:8 NIV). Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”

Foolish me, how I forget that I need:

Grace

Mercy

Sacrifice

Service

Forgiveness

Without them, I have no part in Christ.

Peter submitted. He stopped protesting and willingly accepted the gift: “Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!” (John 13:9).

This is what I need to learn…the submitting.

Sometimes, I need to let others give to me when I am needy and when I am weak.

And grace from Christ….that’s not something I need “sometimes.” It’s grace I need moment by moment, day by day, new every morning.

Take My Picture!

October 14, 2013January 23, 2014Leave a comment

Originally published 1/12/2013

“Take my picture, Mommy! Take my picture!”

In the middle of Sunday morning chaos, pulling on stockings, buttoning dresses, clipping on bows and tying on ribbons, my three-year-old twirled in her dress and posed for a Kodak moment.

And I clicked the camera.

I don’t ever remember being this way, so eager to say, “Cheese.” I’ve always been the one declining photos, offering to hold the camera, tossing into the trash any pictures of me I don’t like.

But when I’m out and about with my daughters (or even just running around the house frantically trying to get four females ready for Sunday morning church service)… they want to stop and take pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. Not of the scenery. Of them.

It takes us three times as long to walk down the Main Street of our town and probably twice as much time on location on our family “field trips.” But I don’t mind.

I love that they feel beautiful enough to want to pose.

There was a day I stepped into the bathroom to put away a stray toothbrush, and I caught one of my girls watching herself in the mirror. She smoothed her hair and glanced up at her reflection, pleased with what she saw.

How beautiful is the girl who feels beautiful in her own skin.

This rare gift, how do you teach it? How do you help them keep it for life?

Somehow, most of us grow out of it. We glance in the mirror and critique the image or sigh in frustration. We step on the scale and slander ourselves with our thoughts. We pose for that picture and know we won’t be happy with it later, not with the smile or the hair or the wrinkles or the chin or ….

Even my husband, in the early days of falling in love, would sit across me from the table and I could feel him watching. I didn’t know where to look. I was uncomfortable in his gaze. What imperfections would he see in me if he looked too closely or watched too long?

Later today, I’ll take my seat at a piano and offer up the music for a wedding ceremony. There will be a moment at that wedding when the soloist will sing, “How Beautiful the radiant bride who waits for her Groom with His light in her eyes” (How Beautiful, Twila Paris).

The beauty of the bride isn’t so much the hairdresser and the hair spray, the makeup, the gown.

It’s that she walks down that aisle feeling loved. In a moment, she knows she is wanted, precious, and she radiates the joy.

And it’s beautiful how she loves him. So we, thinking of another, run out of time to be so self-analyzing, so self-criticizing, so self-condemning—so “self.”

It’s a verse for meditating on all week, with a reminder of how beauty is looking to God–our Groom–thinking of Him and less of me. Beauty is caring for others. Beauty isn’t feeling shame, but feeling redeemed, feeling precious, feeling loved.

“Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame” (Psalm 34:5).

Ask Me Anything: No More Hiding in Shame

October 11, 2013January 23, 20143 Comments

Welcome to the first “Ask Me Anything Friday!”

For the next few weeks, I’ll be posting short excepts from my book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Lives to God’s Questions, as we prepare for the book release in November.

For more information about the book release, you can click here.

I hope you enjoy these glimpses into the study on the questions God asked in Scripture and what happens when we allow God to search our own hearts and draw us closer to Him.

~heather~

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God asked them a question.

Adam and Eve sinned that first sin in the Garden of Eden and they impulsively hid.

That’s when they heard God’s steps as He searched for them and they heard Him ask that one simple question:

“Where are you?”

“At least some part of them probably wanted to remain silent and continue cowering among the leaves as long as possible. They had wandered away from God’s side, choosing sin over innocence, and then when their eyes were opened, they were so filled with shame that they hid from God.

It’s no different than my daughter when she is in trouble. When Momma discovers her disobedience, she’s sad. She cries a bit at punishment and feels remorseful.

The ultimate pain for her, though, is if Momma tells Daddy what she did. It’s not because Daddy is going to punish her again. She’s already received discipline from me. She just so desperately wants to hide away her sin from him because she’s ashamed of it and knows he will be disappointed.

Shame is so destructive. It builds up walls in our relationships, preventing us from experiencing the freedom of vulnerability and intimacy. Adam and Eve were burdened by shame and they couldn’t even stand face to face with God, even the God who created them and loved them.

Yet, it is grace that counteracts shame in our lives…

This is a grace that Adam and Eve had not yet experienced as they stood among the foliage in the garden, hiding their faces in shame. There had been no sin in that paradise and therefore no need for grace. They didn’t know that while there are consequences for sin, there is also forgiveness available.

It’s a grace I struggle at times to comprehend and feel even though I’ve seen and experienced a life overflowing with God’s grace. I fall easily into works-based living, expecting perfection and achieving failure. I see the stains of sin on my heart and even when they are washed away, I still feel dirty, unusable and bound for the trashcan sometimes.

I struggle with a prison of self-condemnation. Long after I’ve repented and sought forgiveness, I feel the heaviness of guilt—no, shame really. It’s a prison of thoughts—“You’re unworthy. God can’t use you. You fail, all the time you fail, same sins all the time.”

Shame imprisons us and hides us away from God. We feel unworthy of His attention and beyond salvation. That’s why Adam and Eve covered themselves in palm leaves and stood still with hushed breaths as God came walking in the garden. They were paralyzed by the shame of what they had done. It probably seemed as if there was no hope of restoration.

That is what we feel sometimes, too, but this is what we can know:

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9, NKJV).
” Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow” (Psalm 51:7, NIV).
“He has not dealt with us according to our sins, Nor punished us according to our iniquities. For as the heavens are high above the earth, So great is His mercy toward those who fear Him; As far as the east is from the west, So far has He removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:10-12, NKJV)
“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit” (Romans 8:1, NKJV).

Because of Adam and Eve’s sin, God purposed to send His Son, Jesus, to die for all our sins so that we could be cleansed, thoroughly washed clean, all sin stains removed.

Why?

So that our relationship with Him—the relationship broken by that initial sin in the Garden of Eden and then re-broken over and over again in our disobedient lives—-could be restored.

He “reconciled us to Himself through Jesus Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:18, NKJV).

That was a plan enacted by God in immediate response to Adam and Eve’s sin. They and all their descendants were not beyond His reach, even with sin so ugly and shame so heavy that it interrupted their relationship with Him.

God’s grace produces reconciliation.

Satan’s accusations—even long after we’ve repented—bow us low to the ground with shame. We become burdened with sins already forgiven and are unable to look up into God’s face any longer. We can’t walk in relationship with our Savior when we are too ashamed to match His gaze.

So, like Adam and Eve, sometimes we hide from God rather than respond to His call.

Yet, God whispers the searching question to our shame-filled hearts, “Where are you?”

He wants us to return to His side and resume our intimate walks with Him through life, to converse, to share, to listen and respond, but first He must meet us where we are and then heal the heart paralyzed by shame.

What if God is in this place?

October 9, 2013January 23, 20143 Comments

What if God is in this place?

It may not always seem likely. Not when you’re elbow-deep in soapy dish water, or pulling out the third wipe from the tub while doing diaper duty.

Not perhaps while cradling a tiny babe at 2:00 in the morning so he can eat or zooming from school to ballet while quizzing children on homework questions at the same time.

And not when passing back sandwiches to little people in the car as you spend a night away from home moving from activity to activity.

Yet, this is the place I inhabit, the Mom World. It’s the life where my schedule is dictated by the schedules of other, tinier, needier people.

There was a time….there will be a time….when I can linger over tea, a Bible, a prayer journal.

For now, though, I’m scribbling Scriptures onto index cards and reading devotionals in a parked car while waiting in a line to pick up my kids here, there, and everywhere.

God has to be mobile for me. He has to be everywhere I go. He can’t be confined to one hour, one specific holy place, one quiet spiritual atmosphere.

No, He has to be God amidst the loud, the stressful, the busy, the on-the-go, the tired.

We talk about the discipline of a quiet time, the need to establish a routine and stick with it no matter what. Schedule your time with God….that’s the advice we give.

For most people, there’s wisdom there. Make a date with God. Write it down on the calendar. Protect the time. Do the habit until it becomes a habit. Persevere until it becomes second-nature.

Sometimes, though, in some special seasons and particular times, this advice leaves us defeated. My schedule is different each day of the week. A newborn baby can cry and change my plans in one unexpected instant.

If I’m inflexible, too rigid, only ‘doing devotions,’ only meeting with God in this one place at this one time, I will miss Him.

I’ll miss Him completely and utterly. My life would be devoid of heaven and communion with my Savior and I’d be one stressed out Mama ending every day emptier and emptier than the day before.

Yet, there’s Mary in Luke 1, a teenage girl busy with chores, doing common, everyday things on a common, average day. That’s when an angel appeared and announced she’d carry the Messiah.

God was at work. She couldn’t see Him…not when hauling water and baking bread. Still, God was in that place, active in her life, preparing the greatest plan of all plans to display His will and His presence in the world.

And then there’s Jacob, the runaway rogue, the trickster fleeing his home and family because he’d made his brother, Esau, mad enough to kill him.

All Jacob did was fall asleep on a stone pillow and God was there, displaying a stairway up to heaven and bringing blessing and promise for Jacob’s future.

What could Jacob say, but:

“Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.” (Genesis 28:16 NIV)?

That’s it exactly, what I’m thinking, what I’m praying for and hoping to accomplish even with four young kids and a husband and a ministry and a life…

To be aware.

I don’t want to walk in and out of this life unaware of God in this place—right here, right now, right in the middle of everything I’m doing and everywhere I have to be. I can wait for some future moment when an uninterrupted hour of quiet is an everyday commodity, but how much better to ask God to inhabit this busy, stressful, active, full life, the very life He’s given me?

After all, even when we set apart time and places for holy encounters, we can miss seeing His glory.

Zechariah the priest entered the holy place for a once-in-a-lifetime encounter with God….and yet when the angel appeared to him and announced that he’d be the father of the Messiah’s forerunner, Zechariah “was startled and was gripped with fear” (Luke 1:12 NIV).

What was God doing there in the temple? What was God doing there on this spiritual day?

Zechariah stood in a holy place at a holy time and didn’t expect to see the holy.

But I want to be expectant in the holy places and in the places that seem steeped in the mundane. God, please meet me here in the mini-van, here helping with homework, here making dinner, folding clothes, washing dishes, packing lunches, feeding a newborn.

May I remember that yes, God is in this place.

Dear Son: To Andrew

October 7, 2013January 23, 20147 Comments

Many, many thanks to you all for your prayers, comments, encouragement, blessings, and help as we welcomed our son, Andrew Christopher, into our family last week. God was with us. Everything went smoothly and we are home and settling into life with a newborn!

Our son is beautiful, healthy, and such a precious gift. Here’s my letter to him, the last of the letters to my children.

~heather~

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Dear Andrew:

Your sister caught me crying over you last night. She feared for me, worried that I physically hurt, worried that I was sad or scared about you.

Maybe one day this eight-year-old girl will be a mom watching her own newborn sleep and she’ll understand the tears. I try to explain it to her now…how I’m crying because I’m happy.

But it’s so much more than that and she skips off to bed not really understanding, just content to know that mom is ‘okay.’

I blink these tears away or maybe they’ll slip down my cheek as I’m watching your baby facial expressions change, listening to you coo, stroking your tiny pink fingers and toes, running my hand softly over the outlines of your face or the fuzz (can’t really call it hair) on your tiny head, or watching your two deep-sea-blue eyes search the room and linger when you see my face.

I’m awestruck. That’s what I am. I’m overwhelmed at you, this tiny bundle of expectation, this incomparable gift of God given to your dad and me and to three wildly excited and proud big sisters.

How could God give me a gift so precious, so beautiful?

How could He trust me with the care of a son, a boy to teach about Godly manhood and character, courage, strength, passion for God and His Word and truth?

Already, you teach me with your days-old wisdom, and I’m learning a whole new world of diapering and outfits and caring for a baby boy. But the lessons, the deep ones that will change who I am as a mom and as a woman, will continue for a long time.

You remind me of this grace, so abundant and undeserved, that God heaps on us. It’s salvation plus…..the cross itself, the great miracle of mercy, plus a gift so valuable as you placed in the arms of imperfect me.

And isn’t God’s grace always this? The once-for-all rescue for sinners in Christ’s sacrifice and then daily mercies that He lovingly gives us day after day after day….

So I worship. All the time. Worship becomes a middle-of-the-night event, a whispered prayer of tear-filled thanks to a God so mighty and so good. You teach me how to breathe in and breathe out praise, how sometimes the most beautiful offerings of worship to God contain just three words: “Thank You, Lord.”

You teach me that I’m never on my own, and I’m so thankful for the reminder. Maybe if you’d been another girl, a fourth daughter for me, I’d be tempted to think, “I’ve got this. I can do this. I know this…..I…..I…..I.

Now I am humbled.

How can I be your mom?

Because God is with me.

How will I know how to train you and guide you?

Because God will give me wisdom, strength, all I need.

It’s a reminder I see even now, cradling your tiny feet in my hands and stroking your soft, pink baby toes. All these months of knowing I was having a boy, I worried and fretted—how do I connect with him? How do I relate to a boy? How do I love him best?

And now I see it in your toes, God’s answer right to me.

You have my feet.

The way two of my toes on each foot connect together a little differently than most. We’ve always called it “webbed” feet and none of your sisters inherited that from me.

But you did.

Maybe that’s a little message from God to this nervous mom’s heart, that you are mine, specially chosen to be my son, and I have the privilege, the honor, the blessing to be your God-picked, God-designed, exact right mom for you.

Your dad and I hold you now in excited wonder, wanting so much to see who God designed you to be and what gifts and talents He’s placed in you. We can’t wait to know you more and more.

And we are praying for you.

We’ve been praying all along, of course. From the moment we knew you were coming, we held hands in a restaurant, celebrating our anniversary and praying over the news that you were coming.

We prayed about your name, wanting it to reflect God’s plan for you.

So you are Andrew Christopher….

Named for your dad, James Andrew, and named for the first disciple to follow Jesus. In Scripture, Andrew is a pursuer of truth, first following John the Baptist, then following Jesus, and then bringing others, including Peter, to Christ, as well.

And Christopher, or “Christ-bearer…” one who brings Christ to others.

May it be so. May your witness, your testimony for Him, your character, your love for God and His Word bring others to Christ and Christ to others.

We pray this verse of blessing over you:

This is what the Lord says:

Let not the wise boast of their wisdom
or the strong boast of their strength
or the rich boast of their riches,
but let the one who boasts boast about this:
that they have the understanding to know me,
that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness,
justice and righteousness on earth,
for in these I delight,”
declares the Lord
(Jeremiah 9:23-24 NIV).

These are our prayers for you, our son.

~mom~

Dear Daughter: To Catherine

October 4, 2013January 23, 20142 Comments

Dear blog friends and followers,

I’m probably still in the hospital today, hopefully cradling our healthy baby boy, hopefully recovering quickly from a C-section, hopefully (miraculously) getting some sleep.

This week while I’m away, I’ve scheduled posts in advance–some letters to my children, one for each daughter and then one for my son. I hope they bless you, too.

Thank you so much for your prayers for me, for my baby, and for my family this week! I hope to be home, rested, and ready to start sharing with you updates, news, and devotionals again soon.

~heather~

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Dear Catherine,

I call you my “Joy-Bucket,” you’re just so full of excitement, enthusiasm, and sweet irrepressible joy. It spills right out of you and fills me up, too; it fills up everyone around you.

You’ve been our family cheerleader for years now, patiently sitting in the waiting room of the ballet studio, in the office or the car waiting to pick the girls up from school, in lobbies while your sisters finished camps and activities, and in the auditorium watching everyone else in the family rehearse and perform show after show.

And you never complained.

You happily tagged along and told us all what a great job we were doing. You’ve made the best audience member even when I took you to see your dad perform in Music Man when you were just four months old. The lights shown on that stage, the curtains opened and even then in all your baby sweetness, you were entranced by the show.

It’s thrilling to see you finally taking your turn now. Your turn to grab your backpack and skip out of the house so thrilled to spend a day at preschool. Your turn to play through your first piano song and cheerfully practice every…single….day….without me ever reminding you. Your turn to dance in your first ballet class and smile sheepishly as we hand you your first ballet flowers.

It thrills me to be your cheerleader now.

I’m supposed to be teaching you so much and yet every day…every….single….day….you teach me what it means to be beautiful and loving and kind.

Like how to put others first unselfishly and without complaint. How to be the first to tell someone else, “Great job!” and the first to clap your hands with enthusiastic applause.

You teach me how to be grateful. Months after you receive a gift, you’ll slip a hug around my neck and exclaim, “Thank you so much for this, Mom. It’s what I dreamed of….or what I always wanted….” and it’s the simplest thing ever but you act as if I’ve given you a treasure.

Even when I’m simply pulling boxes of hand-me-downs out of the garage, you still give wholehearted thanks. You’re the third of three daughters. Hand-me-downs are your reality. And instead of complaining, you twirl around the house in every “new-to-you” dress and thank me as if I’d walked you into a store and bought it new off the rack.

You teach me to pray first rather than resorting to prayer after trying every other method of saving myself. You bow your head all day, every day.

And you never start prayers asking, “God, please do this….” No, you always pray, “Thank you, God, for helping me. For making me feel better. For making this a good day. For keeping us safe…..” even when you’re still sick or the day is just beginning or we haven’t begun our journey.

You pray in faith. You thank God in advance for the blessing and gift.

I’ve walked this Christian walk for almost 30 years now. Three decades of faith in God, and I’m still learning about faith and prayer from my four-year-old daughter.

You have so much growing still to do, so much learning ahead of you, and I imagine the loveliness, the joyfully contagious beauty of you in the years to come. It’s breathtaking to consider.

I pray that your faith becomes ever-more-personal, that all your questions and chatter about God turn into your own decision to follow Jesus as your Savior.

I hope you devote yourself to prayer for life, praying for your own children, for your grandchildren and even beyond. It’s a gift God has given you, a calling even now, and there’s no stronger stance in this life than being on your knees before a holy and powerful God who loves you.

And He does love you, precious one.

So do we.

Before you were born, we prayed for you and prayed about the name God had chosen for you. Catherine Susanna. A woman of purity, authority and beauty. A woman devoted to the cause of Christ.

Yes, indeed.

This is the verse your daddy picked out for you as a blessing before we even saw you for the first time:

The Lord delights in those who fear him,
who put their hope in his unfailing love.
(Psalm 147:11 NIV).

We do take such delight in your sweet spirit, your bravery, your strength, and your joy.

I know that God rejoices over you, too, delighting in who you are and all you will become.

Love,

~mom~

Dear Daughter: To Lauren

October 2, 2013January 23, 20146 Comments

Dear blog friends and followers,

Today’s the day we plan to meet our baby boy for the first time!

So, just a reminder that this week I’ll be posting some letters to my children here–one for each daughter and then one for my son–and I hope they bless you, too.

Don’t be too impressed that you’re seeing this post on my delivery day. I’m not live-blogging during a C-section. No, I’ve written all this in advance and scheduled it for the days I’ll be away. There, I’ve spilled the secret!

I’d love your prayers today and for the rest of this week!

~heather~

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Dear Lauren,

You taught me that my heart could expand.

Just days before you were born, I panicked, wondering, “What if I can’t do this? What if I’m Mom enough for this one child, but not two daughters?”

And then you were born, this perfect little round-headed, bright-blue-eyed baby girl. You captivated my heart and I learned for the first time how God loves us all, not more, not better, but every one of us specially.

We had worried over you for months before we held you in that delivery room. The doctors and nurses thought you would be too small, maybe you weren’t growing, maybe you were under stress. We’d been heading to the office for extra tests and extra ultrasounds.

Yet, you were a surprising and unexpected mystery even then. Every guess and estimate about your size was wrong; you were so perfect, and we were so thankful.

We’d been praying for you all those months before you were born and even now we’re still clasping hands together and praying for you.

And, in many ways, you are still a bundle of mystery and surprise. No one has ever described you to me without using the word ‘unique.’

You surely are.

I remember the first time you toddled over to me, transferred “air” into my palm, and told me to eat the food you’d made. I’d never seen imagination at work that young before. You were pretending long before your older sister ever was.

She played with her farm animal toys by lining them all up, sorted and in categories. You, however, could spend hours on the floor with just a toy horse and a toy farmer, creating intricate scenarios, exchanges, interchanges, and relational situations. Even now, you can disappear into your room for an entire afternoon and create a story-line to rival the greatest novelists and playwrights.

We secretly watched you as a toddler, making funny faces in the mirror, and you’ve entertained us for years with your mimicry as you copy cartoon voices and foreign accents with ease. You and your dad can put on quite a show around our dinner table.

God gave you this astonishing mind that remembers everything, orders the world into patterns, soaks in all you see and hear even when we think you aren’t paying attention, and solves the most complicated puzzles without any effort. Still, you’re never really out to win awards, show off, brag, or gain attention. What you do is simply because you can, simply for the joy of it.

You teach me how to rest…how to lounge in pajamas or comfy clothes, snuggled into a blanket to enjoy a book or a movie and take time just to breathe, and you remind me of the power of a deep belly laugh, a funny story, or a silly joke.

You aren’t a fan of super-serious conversations, changing the subject if our discussion digs too deep and giggling when I’ve lingered too long on my Mom Soapbox.

But here’s the truth I need you to know…..

You are loved and treasured, you—uniquely you. Even when we’re instructing or disciplining, guiding or correcting, we love you fully, completely, and passionately just as God has made you. You don’t need to be the same as your sisters; you don’t need to achieve the same things or pursue the same activities. Lauren, you are loved as you.

You are the boss of your emotions. They shouldn’t hold you captive, shouldn’t dictate your behavior or your decisions. Fear especially will destroy your joy in this life; don’t give in to it. Overcome. Take charge. Push yourself to achieve and explore, not without fear, but in spite of fear.

Choose good friends and take the lead when it comes to doing what is right. Show compassion, generosity, grace, and love for every one you meet, but remember that the very best friends aren’t just fun or funny. They are the ones who encourage you to do your best, make wise decisions, and be more like Jesus. Choosing good friends….and one day choosing whom you date and choosing whom you marry….will determine so much of your future.

Discipline trumps talent. Every time. No exceptions. The reason we push and nudge you is because we see your potential. God has given you astounding gifts and talents, but they will remain useless and undeveloped without self-discipline and determination.

Don’t give up when the work is hard or takes time away from fun. The best things are worth working hard for; they are worth all the practice, studying, and sacrifice.

All of those prayers offered for you as two expectant parents worrying over their unborn child continue even now. As we ask God how to be your mom and dad, we marvel that we’ve been entrusted by Him with the gift of you. We so quickly bow our heads and pray…

Because we love you…

Because you amaze us….

Because you have so much potential….

Because we want God’s best for you.

Before you were born, your daddy chose these verses to pray as a blessing over you:

The Lord is righteous in all his ways
and faithful in all he does.
The Lord is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
He fulfills the desires of those who fear him;
he hears their cry and saves them
(Psalm 145:17-19 NIV).

Take this to heart, my Lauren, my daughter. God is with you always, perpetually near to you, ever faithful and unceasingly gracious. Remember to turn to Him.

Love,

~Mom~

Dear Daughter: To Victoria

September 30, 2013January 23, 20146 Comments

Dear blog friends and followers,

We’re on the final countdown to our baby boy’s arrival here and I’m taking the time to finish up those last-minute preparations—like double-checking the hospital bag, stocking up on everything at the grocery store so I won’t have to shop the day I come home from the hospital, and vacuuming the floor one last time so no one thinks my house really ever gets as messy as it really gets.

In the meantime, I’ll be posting some letters to my children here–one for each daughter and then one for my son–and I hope they bless you, too.

You’ll see posts from me while I’m really still in the hospital, even perhaps when I’m actually delivering a baby! Don’t be too impressed. I’m not live-blogging during a C-section or writing elaborate prose from my hospital bed despite grogginess, hormones, and people coming to take blood samples at 4 in the morning (why can’t they do that during the day when you’re in the hospital?)

No, I’ve written all this in advance and scheduled it for the days I’ll be away. There, I’ve spilled the secret!

I’d love your prayers this week. We should be meeting our baby on Wednesday (October 2nd).

Many blessings to you while I’m away,

~heather~

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Dear Victoria,

You made me a mom. God specially chose you for that purpose and what an honor and joy it has been from that first moment I held you in my arms after you screamed and a nurse toweled you off and handed you over to me, a brand-new, uncertain, clumsy, scared-out-of-her-mind, totally-in-awe new mommy.

But then, I’d been amazed at you all along. You taught me about morning sickness (and how you can have it all day, every day), about OB visits, about birth plans, about prenatal nutrition, and how there simply isn’t anything quite so miraculous as feeling a tiny life moving within your very own body.

I’ve been learning from you ever since. As you like to put it, you “trained me” to be a mom and all that it requires, not just the walking the floor at night with an inconsolable infant, or the diapering and bathing.

No, more than that.

You taught me how to care about another person enough to murder my own selfishness on a daily basis. You humbled me, showed me all I didn’t know, revealed all the ways I wasn’t perfect and didn’t have it all together.

Nothing in this world has taught me how to pray like being a mom, nothing drops me to my knees faster or more often than my children. That started with you.

You still teach me now.

How to be a good friend. How to make people a priority. How to give generously, unselfishly, and with extravagant joy to others.

How to always give your best effort. Many people may look at you and be jealous of your accomplishments, your God-given gifts and opportunities at church, at school, in music, dance and theater. Maybe they’d even foolishly call you “lucky.”

I know the truth.

I see the time you spend practicing, studying, memorizing, rehearsing, performing, and working when others rush through necessary tasks to enjoy fun and relaxation. I know it’s never me pushing at you, reminding you, nudging you, or pressuring you.

It’s the way you set goals for yourself–like jumping rope five times in a row, then 10, then 15, then 20…..until you can whip that rope over your head and leap over it 50 times without stopping, all because you decided you would, you made a plan, you worked hard, and you didn’t give up no matter how many times you tripped and had to start over.

But the awards that sit on a shelf or hang from the wall in your room aren’t what matter. They never are. It’s about who you are, so much strength of character and the willingness to stand up for what’s right against all that is wrong. It’s your deep tenderness, the way you sob at sad movies and books and have a heart so compassionately moved by the hurting, the needy, the outcasts, the orphaned.

These lessons that I’ve been teaching you, my Victoria, are ones I’ve been stumbling my own messy way through for too long. When I speak these words to you, I’m giving sermons to myself reflected in you.

This is what I need you to know:

You are loved, deeply and truly loved. You don’t ever need to be perfect to earn that from us or from God. Your value is never about what you do; it’s who you are, and who you are is amazing.

We all need grace. You’re going to mess up. You’ll forget sometimes, make mistakes, choose the wrong answer, say the wrong thing, lose control, make a mess, and not be the best at everything. That’s what grace is for, and when you’ve received that kind of mercy, be sure to give it to others gladly, humbly, and without stinginess.

Don’t allow worry, anxiety, and fretting to steal your joy. You can trust our God. He really can care for you and every detail of whatever you face.

Before you were born, your dad and I prayed for you, about choosing your name, and how to be your parents. We prayed that God would give us a Scripture as a blessing for you, and I remember the night your dad opened the Bible next to me and read these words:

But let all who take refuge in you be glad;
let them ever sing for joy.
Spread your protection over them,
that those who love your name may rejoice in you.
Surely, Lord, you bless the righteous;
you surround them with your favor as with a shield (Psalm 5:11-12 NIV).

We do pray this for you, for God’s favor, His protection, His blessing, and that He will fill you with gladness and a song of joy.

Love,

~Mom~

Heather C. King – Room to Breathe

"He's solid rock under my feet, breathing room for my soul" Psalm 62:1-2 (MSG).

Category: Thoughts from my Quiet Time

Wonder Woman, Here’s Your Cape

Ask Me Anything: Seeing The Impossible

Accepting this Gift

Take My Picture!

Ask Me Anything: No More Hiding in Shame

What if God is in this place?

Dear Son: To Andrew

Dear Daughter: To Catherine

Dear Daughter: To Lauren

Dear Daughter: To Victoria

My devotional for today:

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