Sometimes Love is a Missed School Bus and a Cup of Tea

September 12, 2014Leave a comment

I woke her up at 8:05 a.m.

She had a rough night. We all did. With four kids sick with the Great Cold of 2014, I had spent most of my night slathering on Vicks, refilling water bottles, rocking a baby and fetching more tissues.

This daughter shone her flashlight on my face at 5 a.m. to announce tearfully that she hadn’t slept all night and now she’ll never get any sleep and she’ll fall asleep at school and she’ll never make it to ballet…..and the world was just absolutely going to blow up because of all of it.

I’m not the most compassionate nurse of a mom anyway. Seeing as how that was about the bazillionth time a child had woken me up in that one night, I had to muster some grace for the night shift.

Walk the child back to bed.

Vicks—rub, rub, rub.

Hand tissues.

Hand plastic bag for placing used tissues inside instead of dumping them on the floor next to your bed (please and thank you).

Refill water bottle.

Speak truth. The world is not about to end. Stop crying. If you cry, you will feel worse. You have not been awake all night; I have and I can assure you that you were asleep for some of it.

Place hand on child’s head, smooth back hair, reassure self that she does not have a fever, and pray for her to sleep. Dear God, please let her sleep.

Make it back to the bed in time to fall asleep before the next child wakes up an hour later.

So, this morning, I wake her up late. “Twenty minutes until you need to be outside waiting for the bus.”

Breakfast, here.

Clothes, here.

Tissues, here.

Lunchbox in backpack. Book in backpack. Zip it up!

Brush your teeth and I’ll brush your hair while you do that. Saves time.

But I look at this child in the mirror. She’s still crying and she’s a mess of red-faced blotchy miserableness.

She’s sick and she’s tired.

I could push her out that door to meet the bus.

I’m a workaholic. I’ve said it to her already that morning, “No fever. No throwing up. This is just a cold. You’ll feel better in an hour.”

But something in me stops the stampede of my pushy, workaholic, drill sergeant self all over the tender heart of this beloved girl.

I hear it, this strong voice telling me to just stop right there and: Love her.

I had just read it the day before in Pathway to Purpose:

“It is a cure for an affliction may of us have, which my friend calls destination disease. That great phrase describes being more concerned about getting to our destination than in finding delight on the journey. Learning to love causes us to linger in the company of others and find enjoyment and companionship along the way” (Katie Brazelton).

Learning to love isn’t just a begrudging necessity of this Christian life, a small blip in the journey on to bigger and better purposes and plans.

Loving others is Christ’s command.

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. (John 15:12 NIV).

Loving others is what we’re here to do. It is the great purpose. It is the great design.

Am I too busy pushing my agenda in this moment to show the truth of God’s love and grace?

Katie Brazelton writes this in Pathway to Purpose also:

“Love, then, is spending ourselves, investing ourselves, in the daily and eternal well-being of others” (pp. 64-65).

I could push that daughter out the door to the school bus and she’d make it okay.

But that wouldn’t be loving her. Not this time and not in this way. This child is not a hookie-playing, school-skipping, excuse-making kid. She’s a good kid and a diligent student who is sick, got too little sleep and feels rotten.

I love her and I want her to know that I love her.

That’s the point.

So, I send two kids out to the bus instead of three.

I write a note to her teacher. I make her a cup of tea.

An hour later, she is feeling a bit better. She still has a cold, but she says she’s ready to go to school.

I drive her in, and she says it to me twice on the way, “Thanks for taking care of me, mom.”

This month, I’m Learning When To Say “Yes” as part of my year-long pursuit of the presence of Christ.

And I pause here today because saying “yes” isn’t one choice or one destination. It’s a lifestyle of listening in the moment.

I say “Yes” to the Spirit’s voice.

“Yes” to His direction even in the smallest of things, the every day, and the ordinary.

And today I say “yes” to loving others, starting with this precious girl.

How can you love others today?

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Learn When to Say, ‘Yes?’

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 book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, is available now! To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

It’s 3:00 AM, Give or Take An Hour

September 10, 2014September 10, 20142 Comments

It’s 3:00 a.m., give or take an hour. I didn’t look at the clock when I heard my baby’s cry in the night.

When I slip into the room, I hear him sniffling through his stuffy nose. He’s been up several times already tonight. After this, he’ll probably continue to wake every hour or so until morning.

His cry is weary and sad, like he’s asking me to fix what I’m unable to heal. Like he doesn’t understand why he feels so rotten. Like he’s apologizing for waking me up yet again.

He scrambles to sit up. Then he tucks himself into my chest and his head drops down ever-so-slowly onto my shoulders.

I feel his breathing ease into that slow rhythm of rest. His body radiates warmth and I gently stroke my hand across his forehead and feel the slight fever.

He has this fine, blond dusting of hair on his head. I comb it down with my fingers, slow….gentle….the lightest touch.

He’s asleep.

With four sick kids, I’ve been up about 4 times already that night. I know my future, no crystal ball needed. I’ll likely be up every hour from now until sunshine and the rush of the day begins.

So, the practical side of me knows I need to ease that baby boy back into the crib and slip out of the room again.

Get as much sleep as you can, ’cause, girl, you’re going to need it.

The practical side of me is so smart.

But this baby boy snuggles into me and makes this busy, rushing, speedster of a momma pause, rest, breathe in and out and really listen to the rhythm of breath and the rhythm of life.

Usually, he’s on-the-go (like me). I try to cuddle him, and he pushes away to pester the cat or crawl after his older sisters or grab at the TV remote, cell phone, or Kindle or whatever catches his attention, which is pretty much anything and pretty much all the time.

I almost never get to hug him.

When he starts walking, what then?

When he’s off to school….off to driving…off to life? What then?

Better to sit right here in the black of 3:00 a.m. (give or take an hour) and hold my son just a few moments longer.

I think of what I’d been reading that day in Pathway to Purpose by Katie Brazelton. How she said,

“I now know that the most important stuff that happens in life is often challenging, rarely exhilarating, and frequently frightening.”

and this:

“It is not God’s plan for you to spend today chasing after your future one thing when your many things are right in front of you.”

Surely in this moment, this is the most important thing.

We sure can get caught up in searching from some grand revelation of God’s great plan for our lives. We want to know His will for us, His purposes for us, how He’s going to use us, not just today but long into the future.

Yet, here in the night, sleep-deprived, zombie-brained momma that I am, I feel that God sees me cuddling a sick child.

I think how too often we miss this truth:

God’s great purpose for us is to serve Him humbly, sacrificially and obediently in the here and now of life.

We don’t have to search beyond that.

I think of Lydia:

On the Sabbath we went outside the city gate to the river, where we expected to find a place of prayer. We sat down and began to speak to the women who had gathered there. ¹⁴One of those listening was a woman from the city of Thyatira named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth. She was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul’s message. 15 When she and the members of her household were baptized, she invited us to her home. “If you consider me a believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my house.” And she persuaded us. (Acts 16:13-15 NIV).

Lydia was the first European Christian convert recorded in Scripture, a woman who accepts Christ, shares it with her family, and offers Paul a place to stay while he shares the gospel.

But it began because she said “yes” to God in the ordinary.

“Yes,” to showing up to work.

“Yes” to listening to a missionary.

“Yes” to responding to the gospel.

“Yes” to sharing it with her family.

“Yes” to opening her home as a missions base and church.

Maybe this month, as I’m learning when to say ‘Yes,’ it’s less about joining programs, committees, and ministries, and more about starting with simple obedience and faithful service day after day.

Looking for purpose? Looking for God’s plan?

Look to today.

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Learn When to Say, ‘Yes?’

Would You Like Some Peas With Your Worcestershire Sauce (And Other Quirky Eating Habits)

September 5, 2014Leave a comment

Peas were my dad’s favorite vegetable. This is funny to me because when he ate them, he drowned them in Worcestershire sauce.

So, I wonder.

Photo by Wacharaphong Sakoolwongveroj; 123rf.com

Did he really like peas?

Or did he like Worcestershire sauce?

We have our own familial mealtime quirks.

I eat a little of everything, some of this and some of that until it’s all gone.

My husband eats every last bite of vegetable first. Because he hates vegetables. And if you eat them first, you can cover over the taste with other, more palatable foods. Like meat.

When I set the table for dinner, I routinely place a bottle of steak sauce next to my oldest daughter’s place. She pours it on any food containing cheese.

I like cheese.

She doesn’t.

So, we compromise. I cook dinners with cheese. She creates a steak sauce puddle on her plate and eats without complaining.

My middle daughter is what scientific experts would call “a picky eater.” She refuses to eat most foods, especially potatoes. When I get all brave and try out a new recipe, I’m sure to hear from the complaints department, namely her.

“I don’t like this.”

“How do you know if you’ve never tasted it before?”

“I have tasted it” (she licks a speck of sauce off of her fork) “and I don’t like it.”

Alrighty then.

Then there is my baby girl. I serve up a new recipe and say, “Taste this, babe, you’re going to like it.”

So, she tastes and most of the time, she swings her ponytail around and grins at me: “You’re right! This is the best day ever. This is too much deliciousness.”

Sigh. I’m so thankful for her.

And I learn from her.

The Psalmist said,

Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him (Ps. 34:8).

I think of my girl, willing to taste, and when she discovers goodness, she devours it and maybe even asks for more.

Because what good is goodness if we’re satisfied with just a taste?

How often are we unwilling to even take the taste-test challenge? Too busy, too frantic, too frazzled, too scheduled, too independent, too hardhearted, too hardheaded…maybe it’s one of those or maybe it’s all of them, but we don’t even try.

Or maybe we taste, but after we experience God’s sweet goodness, we walk away? We think, “That’s great and that’s enough. It sure was good. Maybe I’ll order that some day.”

Sometimes we’re too easily satisfied by things that don’t satisfy.

In Psalm 119, David tells us:

My soul faints with longing for your salvation,
but I have put my hope in your word (Psalm 119:81 NIV).

This is the holy hunger.

The more you eat of God’s Word, the hungrier you are for God’s Word.

When we come absolutely famished and starving into His Presence, He fills us up with Good. All the junk we’ve been tossing down our throats in order to satisfy our souls now tastes like cardboard.

In my year of Pursuing the Presence of Christ, I learned how to say, ‘no’ last month. This month, I’m Learning When To Say, “Yes.”

I’ve found that after saying, ‘no,’ I’ve gained a more discerning palate.

People keep asking me now that the school year has started, “What are you going to do with yourself?”

I wonder if they think I’m lounging around my house watching soap operas…..but after a week, I still haven’t found a spare moment for lounging.

Last year was frantic. I held on tight to the reins of our home and our schedule. I survived.

Somehow I practiced the spiritual disciplines in the midst of that. I read the Bible through in a year, finished my Bible studies, and read my devotionals in the minivan, outside the ballet studio and in between play rehearsals and church activities.

Now, in this first week of quiet after all that noise, I found I’m starving for the Word of God, hungry for more than checking off my Bible reading plan, turning the pages of the devotional, or filling in blanks in the Bible study.

What is my first “yes” this month? It’s not a program or an activity or a project.

It’s feeding my undernourished Spirit with my first chance to sit quiet and unrushed at His feet in far too long.

I have tasted the goodness of God. Now I intend to clean my plate and maybe even lick off all the crumbs and drips of sauce when I’m done and ask for seconds.

I’m the sheep who has traveled through the wilderness and finally been placed in those green pastures.

Are you weary? Rushed? Downtrodden? Hopeless? Worn? Discouraged? Apathetic?

Come hungry to the Word of God. Taste….feast…..and find the goodness of the Lord.

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Learn When to Say, ‘Yes?’

What I Hate About Being a Mom

September 3, 20142 Comments

“With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall”
(Psalm 18:29).

We went out early on the first day of school, so full of excitement about the big day that we couldn’t stand in the house a moment longer. My girls were ready almost an hour early and had been wearing their backpacks for a full five minutes before I finally opened the door and we stepped outside.

And there we stood, waiting, waiting, and waiting for the big yellow bus. (And taking pictures, of course).

When it came, the girls climbed up the steps, the doors shut, and the bus pulled away.

And I wasn’t on it with them.

Because silly mom, school buses are for kids.

I love being a mom, but there are some things I hate.

I hate ending the summer.

I hate that there are parts of their day, more and more all the time, that I can’t witness first hand and I only get to hear about in bits and pieces when they come home.

I hate that there are hurts I can’t prevent and heartache I can’t stop.

I hate that I can’t keep them safe from everything wrong and mean and hard in this world.

I hate that they grow up so stinking fast. You hold them in the hospital and the next thing you know they are stepping on a yellow bus and managing the big wide world of cafeterias, hallways, classrooms, playgrounds, and school bathrooms without you.

But there’s beauty here, too.

Because there they were at the end of that first day of school, all safe and cheerful.

They spilled out everything in their backpacks and handed me my “assignments.” They showed me where to sign in their agendas and held up the forms I needed to fill in.

They announced the rules in every class and showed off an organized Trapper Keeper, a first homework paper, and the very first classroom assignment my baby girl made in Kindergarten.

I guess they survived without me.

I tear up a little at the thought, tears I managed to hold off that whole first day while they were gone.

I hate that I missed seeing all that myself. I hate that all this growing and independence just takes them one step closer to adulthood.

But I’m proud, too.

I learn from God, the Perfect Father, who navigates this fine parental balance between deliverance and training.

Sometimes I can carry my kids.

Sometimes they need to walk.

But I’m here for them no matter what.

In Psalm 18, the writer declares that God:

“reached down from on high and took hold of me;
he drew me out of deep waters.
He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
from my foes, who were too strong for me.
(Psalm 18:16-17).

God yanked the Psalmist out of the drowning waves and saved him from overwhelming foes.

Not only that, the psalmist says, “You provide a broad path for my feet, so that my ankles do not give way” (Psalm 18:36).

Sometimes God knows we need rescue.

Sometimes, He knows our feet are tender and uncertain. So, He gives us a broad path and a relaxing walk, rather than a treacherous mountain climb up a narrow rock-filled pathway.

But life isn’t always easy and our journey isn’t always a Sunday stroll on a bright and cheerful day.

God doesn’t always carry us out of tough times; sometimes He takes us through.

In that same Psalm, it says: “With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall” (Psalm 18:29).

And why can we perform these feats of wonder with God’s help? Because He has trained us in times of peace so that we can battle through times of war.

The Psalmist says:

It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure.
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he causes me to stand on the heights.
He trains my hands for battle;
my arms can bend a bow of bronze (Psalm 18:32-34).

God has exercised our limbs of faith and traveled with us in paths both broad and narrow. Our feet have grown accustomed to the journey, becoming sure-footed like a deer’s and able to scale great mountainous heights.

And while God is always with us, never abandoning us for a moment, sometimes He chooses to walk alongside us through difficult circumstances rather than lifting us up and carrying us through them.

Maybe you are being carried right now.

Or maybe He’s asked you to walk.

But know this: He’s still with you no matter what.

Originally posted September 9, 2011

Why not riding a roller coaster is really being brave (no matter what anyone else says)

August 28, 2014Leave a comment

Bravery doesn’t run rampant in this house.

Me and my girls freak out about bugs.

We grab for a dry towel when water splashes into our eyes.

We talk through all possibilities and potential scenarios so we won’t freak about what’s new and different.

We inch into doorways when there’s a room full of new people.

Me and these three daughters of mine, we’re not adventurers or discoverers, explorers or conquerors. We’re not risk-takers or rock-the-boaters. We’re not the movers or the shakers.

No, we’re planners and organizers. We’re the faithful and the hard-working and the folks dipping their toes in all gentle and nervous on the side of the pool to test the waters before jumping in.

I’ve been spending all these years of motherhood encouraging my daughters to have courage.

I tell them:

It’s okay to make mistakes, so just give it a try.

I tell them:

God is with you, so don’t fear. Just relax and trust Him.

I tell it to them and maybe along the way I’m preaching to myself.

So, there we were at the amusement park this week for the last hurrah of summer break. And this daughter of mine, the one who screeches the loudest of all about spiders, announces she wants to ride her first big roller coaster.

Oh, yes, the real roller coaster, not the one with a Sesame Street character on the front in the clearly marked kiddie zone.

I balk at her request. Is she sure? Really sure?

Oh yes. Her friends all ride this roller coaster and she has her heart set on it. Today is the day. She’s going to do it.

I poll the family. Anyone else?

Nope.

No one else feels the need for speed today.

So, we visit all the normal rides and enjoy all the usual adventure and it’s just about time to go.

She pouts. She really wanted to give it a try and now she’d have to wait another year.

I decide right there that if this child feels the urge to be brave and say yes to what frightens her, then there was no way were leaving without her riding that ride.

Dad took her one way while I took the other non-roller-coaster riders another way. This was her big moment.

Forty minutes or so later, we meet up again and I throw up my hands in a big question: “So, how’d it go?”
She didn’t ride.

Dad says it simple. She looked up at how high it went, down at how low it dropped, and wrinkled up her nose. Maybe she really didn’t want to ride that ride after all.

Maybe doing it just ’cause all her friends can do it wouldn’t be so fun for her.

Maybe she just needed to wait a bit longer.

And that’s okay.

Yes, that’s okay.

I was proud of her for stepping up there and looking over that beast of a ride and then making the tough choice to be wise and true to herself.

That’s brave.

I’ve spent a whole month this summer learning to say, “No.” I’ve learned that bravery doesn’t look the same for everybody.

You stepping out in faith and saying “yes” when God calls, that’s brave.

Me doing what you’re doing just ’cause you’re doing it, or just ’cause it needs to be done?

Or me doing it just because you want me to or ask me to…or maybe because society tells me I need to or because I don’t want to upset anyone by saying, ‘no’?

That’s not brave.

That’s being a coward in a brave costume. It’s choosing to give in instead of stand up and say the hardest thing: No, thanks.

That young shepherd-warrior David stood in front of the Mighty King Saul and tried on the king’s very own armor (1 Samuel 17).

The King’s protective gear swallowed the teenage boy up. It was hanging off him, clanging and heavy.

It fit Saul perfectly.

It didn’t fit David at all.

So, he had to say, “No.”

That had to take courage, to tell a king, ‘No’ instead of just follow blindly and obediently.

I guess the truth is it takes bravery to do what you know is right, whether that’s saying, ‘Yes’ or saying ‘No.” Courage is knowing what God wants you to do and doing it no matter what.

In Let’s All Be Brave, Annie Downs says, ‘The road to courage is lit by God’s wisdom.”

During this year-long pursuit of God’s presence, I’ve spent this month learning to say, “No.” That meant seeking His wisdom and His opinion over everyone else’s and shaking off the people-pleasing and the cowardice.

Because I want to be where He is. I can do anything if He’s with me and only if He’s with me.

I found courage in His presence. Courage for yes and Courage for no.

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Learn to Say, ‘No?’

Am I Asking Jesus to Leave?

August 25, 2014August 18, 2014Leave a comment

She said he was afraid.

A small team from our church took VBS on the go this year, sharing the lessons, songs and games with kids in the community.

One of the ladies shared with us this past Sunday what that mission to area children was like.

She tells how on the last day, those little ones gathered around the teacher for the Bible story about Paul.

He was such a Bad Guy, she told them.

She told all about his past, all those mean things he did to Christians.

But then she told how he met Jesus and she read from the start of his letters to the churches, how he said the same thing over and over and over again:

“I, Paul, a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ…..”

This little boy, cuddled next to another leader, winced and sucked in his breath every single time she said it.

The Lord Jesus Christ

He’d only ever heard those words as cursing in anger and bursts of outrage in his home.

My husband puts the hurt into words, how this little boy has a “Pavlovian fear response to the name of the only One who could ever save him.”

Peter shared the truth:

Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved (Acts 4:12 NIV).

We sit in that comfy sanctuary in the middle of a tiny town in rural Virginia and our hearts break because missions starts right here.

There are children who don’t even know what a Bible is or who God is or that the name of Jesus isn’t a cuss word…and they live right here.

But there’s something else….

I read in the Gospels:

Then all the people of the region of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them, because they were overcome with fear. So he got into the boat and left (Luke 8:37 NIV).

The people were afraid of Jesus at work.

They weren’t embracing the healing he offered and not the salvation either. They sent Him away and with it they refused all hope of rescue.

All because they were afraid.

Maybe they didn’t wince at the sound of His name, but they feared Jesus’ presence.

Were they afraid of His power?

Were they afraid of shaking things up? Afraid of what salvation might cost? Fearful of what they might lose if they followed Him?

I remember the Israelites crowded around the base of Mt. Sinai, watching the pyrotechnical display of God’s glory, the thunder and lighting, the cloud of smoke, the trumpet blast:

When the people saw the thunder and lightning and heard the trumpet and saw the mountain in smoke, they trembled with fear. They stayed at a distance and said to Moses, “Speak to us yourself and we will listen. But do not have God speak to us or we will die.”…The people remained at a distance, while Moses approached the thick darkness where God was (Exodus 20:18-19, 21 NIV).

They trembled there at the mountain, slinking back in fear, remaining at a distance even when God invited them to come close.

This holy fear of God has its place, the reminder of His greatness and mighty power and how small we are indeed.

He is God. I am not.

He is holy. I am not.

We need the reawakening of awe.

But I wonder if we ever push God away in fear, or hide away in the shadows, remaining at a distance even when He whispers to us, ”Come…..closer….nearer….”

Are we too afraid that He’ll disrupt our lives? Or that drawing close will cost us and it will just be too much to pay?

Do we stand right there at the base of His presence and choose the safety of distance instead?

And maybe we don’t say it as bluntly as the crowd that sent Jesus away, maybe we don’t tell Him, “Can you just go off in your boat and do your work somewhere else?”

Maybe we know just enough…certainly more than a scared little boy listening to a lesson at Vacation at Bible School: yes, God loves us….yes, Jesus is our Savior. Maybe it’s just ‘blah, blah, blah’…just so many words.

Yet, maybe we shut Him out. Maybe we avoid the conviction of Scripture or the passion of all-in of worship. Maybe we want to sing “safe” songs on Sunday morning, hear “safe” messages, leave the Bible reading up to someone else, avoid the accountability of church or the nudge of the Holy Spirit to lay it all down in surrender.

Because we’re afraid.

Lord, help me stop being afraid and start drawing close to You. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than in Your presence.

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Learn to Say, ‘No?’

Muffin Mission: Complete

August 20, 2014August 18, 2014Leave a comment

Today, we have transformed our kitchen table into a muffin station: Blueberry muffins, pumpkin muffins, cinnamon streusel muffins, and triple chocolate chunk muffins.

Our teachers and school staff head back to school this week in order to prepare for the start of a new school year, so we decided to bless them with a little muffin treat.

The thing is: my kids love muffins.

Love them.

But they each only want to eat their own personal favorite flavor.

So, we are making about 24 muffins of each variety, and then each kid needs to sample at least one, maybe two….four?…to make sure they are teacher worthy.

Mom needs a taste, too, of course.

As my five-year-old says, “Muffins are too much delicious and we want to keep eating them and eating them before we run out.”

Then we will package those we haven’t eaten up and take them into the school office for teachers and staff to munch on while they clean classrooms, move desks, prep paperwork, put up bulletin boards and oh so much more.

We are doing this because we love muffins.

Well, more importantly, we love our teachers.

And love takes effort. Loving someone means sacrificing for them, maybe some time, money, effort, or muffin batter.

Somehow, I get this when it comes to people. Being a wife, being a mom, being a friend, being in ministry means giving to others.

But I read this today:

So be very careful to love the Lord your God (Joshua 23:11 NIV).

Joshua, the well-loved leader of Israel, had long since brought God’s people into the Promised Land. Now he was old, preparing to die, and he gave a farewell address.

He reminded them of God’s provision and promises and the consequences for disobedience.

That’s where this one sentence is tucked in, just a small thought in a grand speech.

Be careful to the love the Lord.

I feel that nudging of the Holy Spirit, that gentle pressure as He treads on the tender places of my heart.

Am I careful…attentive…thoughtful… purposeful in the way I love Him?

Or can I sing about loving Him or talk about loving Him and keep it all so simple and without effort?

Maybe sometimes we all treat loving God as our prerogative. How much we choose to give is up to us. Anything we give should make God happy. He should be content to fit snugly into our agendas, schedules, budgets, and thoughts.

What, after all, should carefully loving God look like?

It means tending that relationship. Choosing Him over all else. Giving up this and that so He comes first.

Loving God well means loving God wholeheartedly, not giving Him halfhearted praise and emotionless obedience.

It means speaking His love language and and worshiping Him the way He wants to be worshiped, rather than in whatever way feels comfortable and non-embarrassing to me.

It means desiring with desperate and passionate longing to know Him, really know Him, and to pour our lives into that one grand effort to be with Jesus.

Like Hosea wrote:

“Oh that we might know the Lord! Let us press on to know him. He will respond to us as surely as the arrival of dawn or the coming of rains in early spring (Hosea 6:3 ESV).

What hope! Just as assuredly as the sun will rise with each new day and that April showers will bring those May flowers, so we can trust that God will answer us when we call.

When we press on to know Him, He will meet us in that place. He will make Himself known.

As Chris Tiegreen says:

Press on in whatever way you can think of, knowing that God longs to share who He is. When your heart is pressing in to Him, His response will be as certain as the dawn.

May we start this week….may we start even today, right this moment: to be very careful to love Him.

May we learn to love God actively and wholeheartedly instead of passively and complacently.

May we press in to know Him in any way we can, in every way we can.

Then, may we look forward with expectant hope and the confident assurance that He will respond to us.

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Learn to Say, ‘No?’

5 Prayers for our Schools

August 18, 2014August 18, 20171 Comment

prayers for our schools

It was one of those statements in a sermon that sticks with you forever.

About nine years ago, one of our pastors said, “If when you pray for me all you ask is, ‘God, please bless my pastor,’ then don’t worry about praying for me.”

Not pray for him? Who, after all, would reject a blessing prayer?

But really, he didn’t mean to reject prayers, just to emphasize the importance of specific prayers for others.

It’s true for husbands, for children, for pastors and other ministry leaders, and for our schools. If my idea of praying for them is, “God please bless these people today,” then I’m really not requesting much, not petitioning God much on their behalf.

I want to be specific, be particular, praying in faith that God knows best, but laying my requests all out there before His throne. Not just a “pray-and-run” kind of petition, shooting out a list of people or places to bless in one minute and then rushing on with my day.

I want to get knee-deep involved in intercession like the Levites who prayed for the refugees returning home to Israel to rebuild the Jerusalem walls in the book of Nehemiah (Nehemiah 9).

How to pray then? What to ask God for? You might have ideas, too, but here’s a prayer tool to get us started as we begin this school year:

5 Prayers for our Schools

Mondays: Safety and presence of God: God, we pray for Your presence in our schools, public, private and home-school settings. We ask for peace to reign in the hallways, the classrooms, and playgrounds. Please protect our children and school staff and prevent evil from infiltrating the school grounds.

Tuesday: School administrators and office staff: Lord, we thank You for the administrators and office staff who keep our schools running smoothly and who are responsible for making decisions both about our children’s education and their safety. We ask that You give them strength and wisdom and help them establish a positive learning environment. Help them balance the pressures of standardized testing with the goal of encouraging a love of learning. We pray that they can foster an atmosphere of creativity, passion, and joy among all the educational staff.

Wednesday: Teachers and assistants: Lord, we pray for the teachers and assistants who are putting long hours in during the early days in the school year. There is so much to get set up, students to assess, routines to establish. Please give them the energy they need and strength for each new day. Help them to know You are with them. Give them wisdom as they get to know each student—reveal strengths and needs, highlight situations that need intervention, show teachers where students deserve encouragement and praise!

Thursday: School nurses and counselors: Lord, we ask that you bless the school nurses as they run their clinics and the counselors working with our kids. Our nurses not only manage the intricate schedule of medications for our students, but they are also a source of compassion and love every day. Our counselors need to rightly discern students who need help and intervention and fight against bullying and other problems in our schools. Give them wisdom, gentleness, and compassion. Fill them up daily with Your love as they pour so much of themselves out for others.

Friday: Staff (Cafeteria, janitorial, bus drivers and more): God, there are so many men and women who work in our schools, providing food, transportation and more for our kids. They are often the ones responsible for keeping our schools healthy and our children safe. Please give them joy in their work, bless their hands as they serve each day. Help them know how much we appreciate their efforts on behalf of our kids.

How do you pray for our schools and their staff?

Cancelling the Parenting Magazine

August 15, 2014August 15, 20143 Comments

New Mom + Parenting Magazine Subscription = Monthly Mom Crisis.

When I was that fresh, idealistic young mom with that first chubby cheeked babe, I had big, big plans to get it all right.

Every month that magazine arrived. I scanned it for creative ideas, ripped out yummy recipes, and dog-eared pages with fun activities.

Then I grumped around the house for a day or two.

I cried occasionally.

Because, according to the magazine, good moms don’t ever serve their kids macaroni and cheese. If said mac and cheese happens to be from a box, good gracious, you are one of “THOSE” moms. You know—-the Bad Moms.

Also, Good Moms have Good Kids who always choose the steamed vegetables and rice pilaf when dining out. These perfect children never order the pizza and chicken fingers.

Limit screen time. Join play groups. Teach kids to share. Teach them to care.

Involve them in service projects and ideally live abroad so you can expand their vision of the world.

Teach them sign language and then a foreign language.

Make all your dinners a month in advance and freeze them.

Kids must have an allowance and a weekly chore chart or they will end up lazy, unemployed and bankrupt.

Discipline this way. Play with them that way.

Work outside the home.

Don’t work outside the home.

And never, ever, ever expect your kids to play on their own or entertain themselves with siblings or friends without your intense and continual involvement. You must play cars, dolls, and blocks with them for hours. Good moms never get bored building towers and are never too busy to color.

I finally asserted myself and cancelled the subscription. Who needs to pay for a monthly self-esteem destroyer?

The truth is, I do some of those Good Mom things, but no one can do all of them.

When we try to do everything, we won’t do anything well.

We end up weighed down by overwhelming expectations and impossible demands.

How much better to celebrate victories, to keep a balanced perspective, and to choose what’s most important right here and right now?

How much better to lean in close to God day after daily day and ask Him, “What do you have for me, Lord? Right here. Right now. Show me what’s next.”

The world is full of opinions about who we need to be and what we need to be doing. It’s a noisy place and everyone has something to say.

But in my 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, all this month I’m “Learning to Say No.”

That means saying no to good things, at times, in order to do the “right thing God has for me.”

It means saying no to being like everyone else, to trying to be perfect, to trying to do everything, to keeping up with every great idea on Pinterest, Facebook, and mommy blogs.

It means no longer being paralyzed by everything, so I can do the right things well.

King David placed a weighty task on the shoulders of his son, Solomon. He handed over the plans for the temple with instructions on dividing the labor among the Levites, how much gold to use for the lampstands and the cherubim, and the available supplies.

This was the right thing, the God-thing, that God had designed, purposed and planned for Solomon to do.

And it still could have felt like too much. How could Solomon even begin?

David told his son:

Be strong and do the work (1 Chronicles 28:10 NIV)

and again:

Then David continued, “Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Don’t be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you. He will see to it that all the work related to the Temple of the Lord is finished correctly (1 Chronicles 28:20 NLT)

Be strong.

Don’t be afraid.

God is with you.

So, do the work.

Pick up right where you are and begin. One step at one time.

I don’t need to do everything.

I just need to begin with this one thing.

And God is with you. He will not fail or forsake you.

When we lean our weary and overwhelmed souls onto Him, He shoulders the load. He makes sure the work is done well.

Maybe that’s the lesson Solomon needed so that when God told him, “Ask me for anything….” Solomon knew what to say:

Give me the wisdom and knowledge to lead them properly, for who could possibly govern this great people of yours?” (2 Chronicles 1:10 NLT).

Help me do the work. That’s what Solomon said. Show me how to fulfill this calling.

And isn’t this my heart, too?

Lord, show me how to do this well.

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Learn to Say, ‘No?’

Epic Failures; Epic Grace

August 13, 2014August 13, 20142 Comments

Mom Failures.

I’ve had them, had some doozies actually.

Anyone else?

There was the year my oldest daughter had been pestering me all week with her chattery excitement about an upcoming birthday party for a friend. The day of the party, I told her it was time to go and double-checked the invitation on the way out the door. That’s when I found out that the party actually ended at 2:00, not began at 2:00. She had missed it completely. We drove anyway just to bring our present and apologize, but everyone was already gone.

I had one tearful extrovert of a 5-year-old that day.

And it was my fault. My own failure that had ruined her super-exciting day.

I apologized a million times and it still didn’t feel like enough. I took her to one of those play places with a million bouncy inflatables and she had the most fun jumping herself into exhaustion, but I still knew the truth—I had failed.

“Bad moments don’t make bad mamas!” That’s what Lysa TerKeurst says.

She’s right, of course. One missed birthday party doesn’t define me, doesn’t stuff me into a box of rejection or label me as a Failure-With-a-Capital-F.

But in that moment, it’s so hard to soak in any grace when your soul is rock-hard with shame.

And when you mess it all up, all those other mistakes come crashing right back down on your head from the places you’ve shelved them. Pretty soon, you’re covered in the trash of remembered failure.

You always….You never…..

We hear the absolute declarations that we simply are not good enough, our own voice of condemnation echoing in our own head and heart.

You always make a mess of things.

You never get it right.

You’re always so stupid, so flaky, so forgetful, so short-tempered….

You’ll never be as good as she is…

God can’t use you.

Chris Tiegreen writes:

We are apt to think that failure disqualifies us from serving God well. To the contrary, sometimes it is the only thing that does qualify us. It removes any pretense of self-reliance. Like a phoenix rising, we ascend from the ashes of our own undoing, testifying to the resurrecting power of God. From failure to forgiveness, weakness to strength, death to life—it’s God’s way. Remember that the next time you despair over your failures (365 Pocket Devotions).

We’re mess-ups, all of us. Somehow, some way, at some time, we’re going to fail.

That’s why we need grace, after all. That’s why we needed a Savior: because on our own, we’ll never be perfect, never good enough, never all right.

But there’s Jesus, not just ready to pour out forgiveness afterward; He prays for us in advance.

Jesus looked right at Simon Peter sitting at the Passover Meal, that Last Supper, and said:

“But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:32 NIV).

What grace is this?

Before Peter ever denied Christ, Jesus had been praying for him.

Before Peter’s sin, Jesus already assured him of restoration, promising not just that he would “turn back,” but that Peter could be the one to “strengthen your brothers.”

Jesus promised Peter, “After you’ve failed and you’ve returned to me, I can still use you. More than that, that’s WHEN I can use you.”

Sometimes our own failure makes us most useful to God.

When we receive grace, we learn to give grace.

When we are at our weakest, we learn to rely on His strength and not our own (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Maybe we don’t see the hope right away, not with the mess lying fresh all around us. It’s hard to see beauty in all those ashes. Hard to see grace in the hard and mercy in the difficult.

But the Psalmist wrote:

The Lord helps the fallen
and lifts those bent beneath their loads
(Psalm 145:114 NLT).

Have you tripped up? Have you fallen? Have you crashed headlong into that dark pit?

Do you feel weighed down by the load of shame and guilt and condemnation?

The Lord is there to help you and to hold you up.

Give what’s broken to Him and let Him bring you to something new, something beautiful, and something for your good.

Heather C. King – Room to Breathe

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

Tag: Christianity

Sometimes Love is a Missed School Bus and a Cup of Tea

It’s 3:00 AM, Give or Take An Hour

Would You Like Some Peas With Your Worcestershire Sauce (And Other Quirky Eating Habits)

What I Hate About Being a Mom

Why not riding a roller coaster is really being brave (no matter what anyone else says)

Am I Asking Jesus to Leave?

Muffin Mission: Complete

5 Prayers for our Schools

Cancelling the Parenting Magazine

Epic Failures; Epic Grace

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