Tag: devotions for moms

Please Beware of the Authenticity

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2 timothy 1

She extended her hand, pointed down the street and said, “be sure to avoid our authenticity.”

The kids on our fourth grade field trip to Colonial Williamsburg paused a moment in confusion.

Authenticity?

Then this wave of understanding passed over our group.

The horse-drawn carriages.

The dusty road.

The piles of smelly “authenticity” left behind by these horses as they pulled those carriages down that dusty road.

Oooooohhhh.

Day later, I shuffled my crew of four kids into Wal-Mart for a prescription, and I recalled the tour guide’s warning.

My two-year-old was having a two-year-old day.

He had an outburst of anger when we pulled into the Wal-Mart because we didn’t stop at the Chick-fil-A or the frozen yogurt place instead.

He then had a meltdown in the parking lot because I didn’t let him dance around in the middle of the road.  No, I was the mean mom who insisted he hold her hand in the parking lot!

He hadn’t even finished blinking away those tears before he threw himself into a full-fledged tantrum because I did not get a cart for our quick jaunt in and out of the store.

As he wailed in the pharmacy pick-up line, slowly calming down, I saw someone nearby throw a look my way.

What kind of mother was I?

That’s when I had this flashback moment to that field trip to Colonial Williamsburg the week before.

A tour guide could have waved her hand in my direction and warned people to “Beware of the Authenticity.”

Because that’s what others were seeing, a little moment of Real in the middle of my day.

Maybe they were judging me.  After all, what kind of mother was I who didn’t buy her son ice cream before dinner and then dared to hold his hand in the parking lot?  How dare I tell my tiny tyrant “No?!”

And that’s the funniest thing about it, because even while they were judging me in this moment of authenticity, I was actually being a good mom—not giving into the dangerous whims of a toddler, never once losing my cool or my temper but quietly asserting my will over his, and allowing him to calm down as he realized (once again) that maybe mom really was the boss.

But authenticity is uncomfortable.  It’s smelly and embarrassing.

It’s the kind of thing we wish we could sweep away and pretend doesn’t exist at all.

Authenticity?  In my life?

Never!

I always have it together.

My kids always behave.

I’m never forgetful or short-tempered or indecisive or insecure.

Yet, the very thing we usually avoid is the very thing that God honors and delights in:  The truest parts of ourselves laid out before Him, without masks, without facades, without excuses or pretension.

When Hannah prayed desperately in the temple for a child, she brought her authentic self to God.

She was mocked for being childless.  Her husband didn’t understand her pain.

“She was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly” (1 Samuel 1:10 ESV).

Eli the priest judged her prayer.  Surely she was drunk in the middle of the day.  Only that could explain her despair.

Hannah heard his caustic mockery, the judgment and denunciation.

But here’s the thing:  The very moment Eli condemned her, Hannah was doing the most true and honest thing she could do:  “pouring out my soul before the Lord” (1 Samuel 1:15 ESV).

And God saw her.  He had compassion on her.  He granted her request.

Maybe we’re tempted today to judge those around us: The bad mom, the forgetful coworker, the short-tempered friend.

Or maybe others are judging us as we pour out our soul before the Lord and bring the Real and the Genuine to Him, embarrassing as it is, vulnerable as it makes us.

That’s hard for me.  I want people to think I’m a good mom, but there in the Wal-Mart they probably thought I was a right awful mess!

I trust this, though: God sees the truth.

He desires the real.  The genuine.  The sincere.

God loves the authentic.

He doesn’t, of course, excuse sin and allow us to do whatever we want whenever we want because “that’s just who we are.”

No, authenticity means bringing our brokenness and our bad days and our honest struggles to Him.

It means He applauds us when we’re doing what’s right, even if the world judges us unfairly.

It means having “genuine faith,” the tried-and-true kind (2 Timothy 1:5).  The kind of faith that withstands trials and difficulties.

It means loving those around us even when we see their own Authenticity and maybe offering them prayer, an understanding ear, and a hug instead of a judging word or condemning look.

This is how we live the authentic life and invite others to do the same.

What I’m learning as the mom of a dancer

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romans 12-6

My own experience with dance consists of one ballet class when I was four, one super cute photo of me in a tutu, and one fiasco of a recital concluding my dance career.

So, as the mom of a dancer I’m always learning things like:

  1. Don’t expect to understand anything the teachers say in class.  I watch a row full of girls in leotards and tights nod in understanding when the teacher says they are to “shu-shu, tendu, plies, releve, dijon, au revoir, RSVP sil vous plait, bon jour, bon appetit (okay, I made most of those up).  All I hear is “French stuff, French stuff, French stuff, more French stuff.”
  2. Splits, despite their appearance, are physically possible (just not for me).  My daughter slides down to the floor and splits her body in half without groans of horror or the sound of her bones breaking.  She didn’t start out that way.  It took years of increasing flexibility and lots of complaints along the way, but now she’s got it.
  3. Dancers come in many shapes and sizes.  Maybe the professional culture of ballet says otherwise, but I love seeing the teachers and students at our dance studio with different body structures.  Beauty and strength, flexibility and discipline can look different on different women.
  4. I’ll never vacuum the floor without first having to pick up hair pins.  Where do they all come from?  How do they all jump out of my daughter’s head onto every surface of our home?  I’ll never know.  But if you ever need a bobby pin, just stop by my house before I vacuum!  (Or gather the bobby pins scattered all over my husband’s car since he picks her up from dance.)
  5. Storing hair accessories takes creativity: When another girl at the studio popped open a travel soap container and started pulling out hair nets, ponytail holders and pins, it was better than a Pinterest discovery. Best.  Idea.  Ever.

But here’s the lesson that’s being etched on my heart this year:

God loves when we give Him our all, even if our “all” is different than the “all” of others.

I’ve taken my daughter to dance classes for years.  I’ve bought her leotards and tights and slipped her hair up into buns.

I’ve written the check each month for her classes.

I’ve worked out insane schedules trying to fit everything on our calendar.

And I’m not a dancer.  I’m not good at it.  I have no training in it.

Even though I can recognize beauty and strength, it’s her passion, not mine.

Still, it’s taken me time to truly value this passion God has given her, to say that it’s beautiful and worthy and worth the sacrifice and effort.

Sporty families often value athleticism over other gifts.

Musical families tend to value musicality.

Artistic families—art.

And so it goes.

My daughter, though, teaches her non-dancing mom to value dance.

I am humbled.

In Galatians 2, Paul defends his own passion to the leaders of the New Testament church.

Until then, everyone thought salvation through Jesus was for the Jews and the Jews alone.

But here was Paul, preaching to the Gentiles and baptizing them, taking the Gospel to those who hadn’t heard.

He was outrageously radical!

Some were probably suspicious of his calling.  They thought it was ‘less than.’  Others wanted to restrict it.

But finally, Paul says:

…when they saw that I had been entrusted with the gospel to the uncircumcised, just as Peter had been entrusted with the gospel to the circumcised …and when James and Cephas and John, who seemed to be pillars, perceived the grace that was given to me, they gave the right hand of fellowship to Barnabas and me, that we should go to the Gentiles and they to the circumcised (Galatians 2:7, 9).

We can exhaust ourselves in the church trying to do what everyone else is doing because it seems so valuable.

We can frustrate ourselves by trying to make others care about what we love.  Our pleas can sound like this:  “Every Christian should care about this as much as I do…..”  “If you love Jesus, you’d be involved in this ministry that means so much to me….”

Or, we can give “the right hand of fellowship” to others.

We can perceive and applaud the grace God has given to others just as the church did for Paul.

We seek God’s unique purpose for our own lives and we throw ourselves fully into that work to give Him glory!

And then we rejoice because God is at work in others, as well. We worship God for His goodness and His creativity and we cheer others on for their obedience and faithful sacrifice.

We praise God for the way He makes the body of Christ uniquely unified in its utter diversity.

 

Being Still is only the first step

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psalm 46 NASB

I found her that day with untied tap shoes on her feet and eyes red from crying.

We zipped into the ballet studio, one mom and three girls (plus one baby boy) on a mission.

Three daughters in four back-to-back and sometimes overlapping dance classes during observation week.  This means instead of huddling in my minivan or zooming around town doing errands in between classes, I sat in the corner of the dance class taking pictures.

We all piled into my youngest daughter’s class except for my tap-dancing girl who left to change into her tap-tap-tappy shoes.  I watched the clock carefully and slipped out just in time to check on her before her tap class began.

She wiped her eyes and explained, “I couldn’t get the ribbons on my shoes tied and I didn’t have anyone to help me….”

I tied the ribbons swiftly and then smoothed down her hair with my hand.  Then I said it so she knew it wasn’t just about shoes anymore:

You didn’t trust me to come help you.  I knew you’d need help and I came just in time.

She’d been frantic and upset and all along I had a plan for her rescue and I was right on time, not a second too late.

So, all her fretting had been unnecessary drama.

And when is fretting not?

For months, I’ve dreaded this schedule and the packed-in craziness of our agenda of these few weeks.  I feared the stress—-as in, tearful eyes, breathless suffocation just thinking about it.

But here we are.  We’re making it.  God is gracious.

Those mornings I feared how it could possibly work out, the details of each day that I just couldn’t figure out in advance, the way my to-do lists exploded at the start of each day…it’s all been in God’s hands.

When I felt that familiar strangulation of fear, I heard a still and small reminder: Don’t worry about that.  Just think about today.

So I did.

I focused just on today.

And God has been bringing me the perfect rescues at the perfect moments all along, despite all my worrying and fretting that it’d all fall apart.

Why?

Because I’m learning to trust Him.

I trust Him to bring me the help I need exactly when I need it.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:16).

So often, we read that familiar Psalm—-BE STILL and know—and we focus on the stillness (Psalm 46:10).

Yes, stop with the flustered activity, the desperate attempts to fix things on our own, the frantic search for help from everyone except the only One who can truly save….

“Cease striving” it says in the NASB.

So, for a moment we pause.

Here’s what I’ve been learning—“Being still” is not enough. It simply tells me what not to do.

Don’t rush around in frantic activity.
Don’t try to do everything on your own.
Don’t come up with your on fixes and try to force your own solutions.
Don’t keep a white-knuckled grip of control on your circumstances.
Don’t rehash regrets or dwell on hypothetical problems that haven’t even happened yet.

I can’t forget, though, that after I’ve ceased that striving and calmed my heart, God tells me what I should be doing in the stillness.

The verse tells me to “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10 ESV).

Know Him.

Know He is God.

Know that He’s got this under control and I can rest because He cares for me.

He is I AM.  He isn’t just the God who was or the God who will be faithful.

He is here.  Now.  In this very moment, I rely on His presence.

So, like Moses standing there on a holy mountain before a Holy God, I pray that I may know Him:

If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you (Exodus 33:13).

Because, God, in order to dwell in Your presence day after hectic day, I must be still and I must know.  I want to know You more, know You as I AM, know You as God present with me.  ~Amen~

Originally posted February 11, 2014

Joy and April Fools and Finding New Strength

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nehemiah8

Two years ago, I glued googly eyes to all of the food in our refrigerator, swapped my kids’ clothes around into different dressers, and stuffed toilet paper into their shoes.10152562_10202409425731544_115203408_n

Last year, I swapped out all of their regular shoes for doll shoes and acted like they shrunk over night.

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I drew terrified faces on the hard-boiled eggs I packed in their lunch box with the message “Don’t eat me!”

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And, I lined up their stuffed animals in the bathroom as if they were all waiting for the toilet.

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This year, I’m sending my kids to school with gummy worms hanging out of the apples in their lunches.

And, I’ve turned all the pictures and knick knacks and everything I can get my hands on upside down in the night so they wake up to an upside-down house.

I hate pranks.  It’s just not my kind of humor.

But I knew my kids would get a kick out of my April Fool’s fun, especially my one girl.  Maybe my other kids would laugh at mom’s silliness, but this girl of mine would cackle.

So, I’ve been lightening up a little and celebrating April Fool’s Day as a mom.

It’s because I love my kids and I love this wacky, quirky, silly-joke-telling, comic-book-reading girl of mine.

Maybe she teaches me a little how to choose joy.

This world can batter us and beat us with depressing news and overwhelming sorrow.

But we have Good News.

God Himself came to earth in human flesh, received the punishment we deserve for our sin, died in our place and rose again, offering us eternal life with Him in heaven.

This Good News should root itself deep into our hearts and make our lives blossom with joy.

It’s an excitement that maybe the world just doesn’t get.  Maybe they don’t understand.

Maybe we miss it sometimes ourselves.  We talk about Easter or new life in Christ like it’s blah, blah, blah….words in a book, something that happened a long time ago, information for our head never impacting our heart and life.

Unfortunately, we become immune over time to the message’s impact.  We forget the joy.  We forget the wonder and excitement.

And when we imagine Jesus Himself healing people and teaching them, so often we picture Him as a melancholy Savior, all staid, straight-laced and serious.

Surely, though, he must have smiled a bit as Nicodemus puzzled out the meaning of “born again.”

When Jesus deftly sidestepped the theological traps laid by the Pharisees and Sadducees, I imagine He did it with an internal grin.

As He delivered the revolutionary Sermon on the Mount, Jesus could not have been a boring monotone preacher.  He held the crowd’s attention for two solid chapters worth of teaching in Matthew 5-7.  There must have been some joy there!

And I hardly think children would climb all over Jesus’ lap if He frowned and scowled and scolded.

Jesus is a joy-filled Savior teaching us to live with the joy of God’s presence.

Not that our life circumstances always make joy easy.  Sometimes we feel like our “cup runneth over” and sometimes we feel like our cup is all poured out.  What then?

Nehemiah faced a crowd of Israelites who felt too overcome by their sin, too full of repentant sorrow to feel joy. Yet he told them,

“Don’t be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10).

We have our weak days, our weary days, our times of feeling out of control, confused, worried uncertain, scared, sad, and broken into a million pieces.

Yet, the joy of the Lord is our strength.

It’s not the fake, paste-on-a-smile joy or the pretend-like-the-world-is-perfect joy.

It’s living fully confident that God is sovereign.  We are in His hands and His hands can be trusted.

That’s what gives us strength to face each day, that quiet assurance of His love and His might.

So, we rejoice together when we consider the Good News of the Gospel.

We rejoice in God’s presence, in His accessibility to us at all times, in His compassion, in His faithfulness and unfailing love.

We rejoice in the journey of our faith, knowing that wherever He takes us, He is present there with us, even in darkness and long journeys through the valley.

Still we have joy.

“always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again—rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4, NLT)

Originally published 4/1/2015

When Wonder Never Ceases

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psalm 71

Every spring for the past five years or so, we’ve watched caterpillars climb to the top of a tiny cup, flip themselves upside down, spin a chrysalis, and emerge a week later as butterflies.

This year, though, my daughters suggested doing something different.

After all, we’re old hands at this metamorphosis thing.

How about something new?

What if we ordered a frog kit instead?  The company sends us a tadpole. We watch it become a frog and then we release it in a local pond.  Perfect!

So, I started researching frog kits and we were all excited until I read the comments.  These frogs live for 20-30 years.

I wasn’t sure I wanted such a long-term commitment.  My children should be off living adult lives by then and I’d still be home tending to our everlasting frog.

And we couldn’t release this frog to any old outdoor body of water either.  The frogs in the kit aren’t native to our area, and that could devastate the local wildlife population.

So, we decided that unless we found a local tadpole who we could raise to become a local frog, we’d stick to caterpillars in a cup.

I’m so glad we did.

Those caterpillars arrived and my son watched their centimeter long bodies creep around the plastic.

He learned how to say ‘caterpillar’ and he said it over and over and over, pointing at them to make sure I’d seen them and knew they were in our house sitting on our fireplace mantle.

He couldn’t wait to share the good news about the caterpillars. He told me. He told his dad.  He told his sisters.  He told the air.  “Caterpillar, caterpillar, caterpillar.”

And then each caterpillar spun into a chrysalis and my son learned a new word and made more grand announcements.

The translation went something like this:

“Caterpillar go up.  Sleeping in chrysalis.”

Who knew an unmoving chrysalis could be so entertaining?  He’d watch the cup just as happily as if the caterpillars were still crawling around in there.

Then the most exciting day came.  We peeked into the bug carrier and saw our first butterfly, completely still, waiting for his wings to dry.

My son now had big news.  Big, big news.

“Caterpillar go up.  Sleep in chrysalis.  Butterfly.”

As more butterflies emerged, they began fluttering around and hopping onto the flowers we’d left for them.

And my son giggled.  He just laughed and laughed at the sight.

In all our planning and thinking that maybe the butterfly thing was old-news and maybe we should try something different, I’d forgotten that even though we’d seen the butterflies transform year after year, he hadn’t.

For my son, this was newfound joy.  This was childlike wonder and living amazed at the beauty of new life.

In Luke 5, I read about the disciples limping onto shore after a long and unsuccessful night of fishing.

They’d caught nothing.

Yet, Jesus sends them back out.  He tells them to set down those same nets into that same water.

Simon Peter protests at first but chooses to obey.  They take the boat out.  They put down the nets yet again.

And they haul in the catch of all catches.

Their nets broke with the weight of the fish.  They yelled for partners to join them out on the water to haul in the load faster.

Luke writes:

…he (Peter) and all those with him were amazed at the catch of fish they took  (Luke 5:9 HCSB).

They were amazed.  They were flabbergasted and overwhelmed by awe.  They were made breathless by the wonder.

I bet they were pulling with all their might, load after load, like the fish just wouldn’t stop coming, and they must have been breathless and laughing in astonishment.

They’d yanked nets of fish into their boats many times before.  This was different.  This was God-at-work.

Years from then, those disciples would see the lame dance, the blind see, the deaf hear, food multiplied to feed a crowd, and their crucified Savior resurrected.

But right at this moment, they marveled at a boat weighed down with fish.

I pause and ask for this:

Lord, help me be amazed. Like my son standing on a kitchen stool so he can watch butterflies bounce around their home…..like the disciples exclaiming over an inexplicable abundance of fish….let me rejoice in you.

Don’t let me lose the wonder, not the wonder of the cross, the wonder of your creation, the wonder of your grace poured out in every detail of my life.

Help me to see afresh.  Help me to consider anew.  Fill me with such childlike joy in the Good News that I can’t help but share it over and over and over.

This is the LORD’S doing; It is marvelous in our eyes (Psalm 118:23).

What my reactions say about my faith

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proverbs 27

He wasn’t but a few hours old when the questions began.

“Who does he look like?”

We crowded around my newborn son and tried to puzzle out his features.
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The debate is familiar.  I’ve swaddled three daughters and one son in hospital blankets and visitors have glanced into their faces and declared each time:

Just like dad.

Just like mom.

The opinions differ, this person…that person….there’s no consensus here.

So they ask me and what to say?  I fail at this every time, not seeing all him, all me.  Seeing only “our baby.”

That’s what we decide as a family, not so much that my son looks like dad or mom.  Instead, he looks like a “King baby” and the comparisons are less with his parents and more with his sisters—his sibling counterparts with shared DNA.

I think of my own reflection and how people have told me my whole life that I look exactly like my mom.

But this light brown hair, my blue eyes, my fair skin….those aren’t my mom’s features.  Those belong to my father.

What they see in me isn’t a physical copy of my mom, but a personality, a laugh, a voice that make me her “spitting image.”

So maybe the essence of who we are truly overcomes the external and influences—maybe even determines—the way others see us.

People can look right at me and see past all that is physical to the spirit within.

And so the apostle Paul could see past body frailty to find faith in a man.

In Lystra there sat a man who was lame. He had been that way from birth and had never walked. He listened to Paul as he was speaking. Paul looked directly at him, saw that he had faith to be healed and called out, “Stand up on your feet!” At that, the man jumped up and began to walk (Acts 14:8-10). 

How many people had looked directly at that man and seen only external limitation?  From his birth, he’d been crippled and all through childhood he’d been defined by disability.

Yet, his faith was so great, so overpowering, as to be his greatest noticeable characteristic.  Among a mob of many, his faith made him stand out.

What does such faith look like?  What are its features?

If someone looked at me in a crowd, would they see this faith above all else in me?

He must have had mountain-moving faith, the kind that makes room for miracles and doesn’t crowd them out with doubt rooted in practicalities and self-reliance.

Me?

Could I have faith so bold?

And daily faith, what about that?  Would Paul have seen faith in me amidst the most minor of daily annoyances, the stresses of the schedule, the disappointments of the moment and the way I have to face up to my very own mistakes and failings?

Doesn’t that take faith also?

To choose not to make a forgotten phone call a crisis or a lost library book or the 5 minutes on the clock screaming at me that we’re late or my mistake from rushing too much (yet again).

How we react in the most mundane of stressors reflects our faith (or lack of it).

Do we trust that God has everything under control?

Everything?

Yes, the overwhelming issues we can’t possibly handle, but can we trust Him even with our calendar and our kids’ homework and our grocery bill?

And, if He is so trustworthy, why then fret and fear instead of relax easy into faith in a God so mighty and so merciful?

The Proverbs 31 woman “can laugh at the days to come” (Proverbs 31:25).

She has no fear of tomorrow or any days after that and no worries over what-if’s and hypotheticals.

She has faith.  And it shows up in her demeanor, in her belly of laughter instead of a wrinkled face of worry.

Proverbs also tells me this:

As a face is reflected in water, so the heart reflects the real person (Proverbs 27:19 NLT).

My reflection should radiate faith, the confident assurance that God is who says He is and He will do what He says He will do.

It’s the firm, unshakeable belief that whatever I face any day in this world is in His hands and never beyond His control or His caring.

Who do I look like, then?

Oh, I hope it’s a woman of deep, unshakeable faith.  I hope people see Jesus in me. I hope people could pick me out of a crowd and know that I was His.

So we worship with abandon

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psalm 150

I can hear my son dancing in his carseat as I drive the minivan around town.

He dances with a particular sense of abandon, throwing his whole body into his head-banging, side to side, forward and back.   He snaps his elbows out and pulls his hands to his chest and then kicks his feet.

When he breaks into dancing at home, he does a combination of skipping/leaping/running in circles that is breathlessly exciting.

He is into it.

I know he’s dancing wildly back there in the minivan (as wildly as one can dance when strapped into a 5-point harness car seat), so I pull down my rear-view mirror for a moment to see what he’s doing.

He immediately freezes in mid-boogie and looks away trying not to catch my gaze.

All of that joyful movement stops in an instant and gives way to bashful embarrassment.

My son is a secret dancer.

Even though I never criticize him for it, he has this innate pulling back, an automatic embarrassment that we never overcome no matter how many times I tell him: “It’s okay to dance.”

I wonder if we also are secret-dancers, secret-worshipers, holding back, hiding away, not wanting to look too wild or too ‘into it.’

Like Nicodemus, maybe we clothe our time with Jesus in darkness and privacy.

Even among other Christians, we might pull back.  Don’t get too serious.  Don’t worship too passionately.  Don’t change your priorities too much.  Don’t talk about God too often.  Don’t let the Bible actually change you.

Jesus has a way, though, of busting through all of the layers of propriety and face-saving, people-pleasing, status-quo-following.

No matter how hard we may try at times to stuff our faith into acceptable packages of behavior, God can stir us to abandon.

In Luke 7, Jesus watched as a widow followed the casket of her only son while wailing with sorrow.  Seeing her pain, Jesus responded with compassion, touched the coffin and commanded that her precious son rise up from the dead.

The son sat up and started talking.

We’re told that “they were all filled with awe and praised God.  ‘A great prophet has appeared among us,’ they said. ‘God has come to help his people.’ This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country (Luke 7:16-17 NIV).

The Message describes the scene:

They all realized they were in a place of holy mystery, that God was at work among them. They were quietly worshipful—and then noisily grateful, calling out among themselves, “God is back, looking to the needs of his people!” The news of Jesus spread all through the country (Luke 7:16-17 MSG).

God’s presence, always with us, should awaken the sense that we’re in a “place of holy mystery.”  Yes, God is at work here and we are amazed!

We may begin ‘quietly worshipful,’ but then we can’t hold it in!  We praise God!  We are ‘noisily grateful!”  We tell everyone what Jesus has done.

Just like these worshipers, we shout: “Praise God, He is at work among us!  Praise God, I’ve seen His hand and He’s real, our God is real!!  Praise God, He has not abandoned us, but He is looking after the needs of His people!!”

We all have these moments when we can choose to dance and sing about all that God has done or remain hidden in the shadows as night-time Jesus-seekers too frightened of popular opinion for all-out discipleship.

This was Nicodemus’s choice. He came in the darkness to ask Jesus just what being “born again” really meant.

But later, after Jesus died,  it wasn’t the disciples or the women at the cross who arranged for his burial.

Instead, Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate for Jesus’ body.  He was “a disciple of Jesus, but secretly because he feared the Jewish leaders” (John 19:38).

And who was with him?  None other than Nicodemus, who brought about 75 pounds of lotions and spices to anoint Jesus’ body.  Together, they wrapped their Savior with linen and placed him in a garden tomb (John 19:38-42).

Two secret worshipers, frightened of others’ opinions, ashamed to go public with their faith, now honored Jesus with reverent awe and unhidden love.

Suddenly, religious position, public opinion, and power didn’t matter very much.

Jesus had abandoned all for them, so they worshiped with abandon.

Jesus abandoned everything for us also, so we can also worship with abandon!

God is with us!  Jesus is risen!  He is real!  He is at work among us!

 

 

30 Bible Verses on Seeking the Lord

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verses-on-seeking-God

  • Deuteronomy 4:29 ESV
    But from there you will seek the Lord your God and you will find him, if you search after him with all your heart and with all your soul.
  • 1 Kings 22:5 ESV
    And Jehoshaphat said to the king of Israel, “Inquire first for the word of the Lord.”
  • 1 Chronicles 16:11 ESV
    Seek the Lord and his strength;
        seek his presence continually!
  • 1 Chronicles 28:9 ESV
    And you, Solomon my son, know the God of your father and serve him with a whole heart and with a willing mind, for the Lord searches all hearts and understands every plan and thought. If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will cast you off forever.
  • 2 Chronicles 7:14 ESV
     if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.
  • 2 Chronicles 15:2 ESV
    and he went out to meet Asa and said to him, “Hear me, Asa, and all Judah and Benjamin: The Lord is with you while you are with him. If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will forsake you.
  • Psalm 9:10 ESV
    And those who know your name put their trust in you,
        for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you.
  • Psalm 14:2 ESV
    The Lord looks down from heaven on the children of man,
        to see if there are any who understand,
        who seek after God.
  • Psalm 22:26 ESV
    The afflicted shall eat and be satisfied;
        those who seek him shall praise the Lord!
        May your hearts live forever!
  • Psalm 27:8 ESV
    You have said, “Seek my face.”
    My heart says to you,
        “Your face, Lord, do I seek.”
  • Psalm 34:4 ESV
    I sought the Lord, and he answered me
        and delivered me from all my fears.
  • Psalm 34:10 ESV
    The young lions suffer want and hunger;
        but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.
  • Psalm 40:16 ESV
    But may all who seek you
        rejoice and be glad in you;
    may those who love your salvation
        say continually, “Great is the Lord!”
  • Psalm 50:15 ESV
    and call upon me in the day of trouble;
        I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.
  • Psalm 63:1 ESV
    O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
        my soul thirsts for you;
    my flesh faints for you,
        as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
  • Psalm 105:4 ESV
    Seek the Lord and his strength;
        seek his presence continually!
  • Psalm 119:2 ESV
    Blessed are those who keep his testimonies,
        who seek him with their whole heart,
  • Psalm 119:10 ESV
    With my whole heart I seek you;
        let me not wander from your commandments!
  • Proverbs 8:17 ESV
    I love those who love me,
        and those who seek me diligently find me.
  • Isaiah 55:6-7 ESV
    “Seek the Lord while he may be found;
        call upon him while he is near;
    7 let the wicked forsake his way,
        and the unrighteous man his thoughts;
    let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him,
        and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
  • Jeremiah 29:12-14 ESV
    12 Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. 13 You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.
  • Lamentations 3:25 ESV
    The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
        to the soul who seeks him.
  • Hosea 10:12 ESV
    Sow for yourselves righteousness;
        reap steadfast love;
        break up your fallow ground,
    for it is the time to seek the Lord,
        that he may come and rain righteousness upon you.
  • Amos 5:4 ESV
    For thus says the Lord to the house of Israel:
    “Seek me and live;
  • Zephaniah 2:3 ESV
    Seek the Lord, all you humble of the land,
        who do his just commands;
    seek righteousness; seek humility;
        perhaps you may be hidden
        on the day of the anger of the Lord.
  • Matthew 6:33 ESV
    But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
  • Matthew 7:7 ESV
    “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.
  • Acts 17:27-28 ESV
    that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, 28 for “‘In him we live and move and have our being’;
    as even some of your own poets have said,
    “‘For we are indeed his offspring.’
  • Hebrews 11:6 ESV
    And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.
  • James 4:8 ESV
    Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.

My job at the zoo

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john 16-33

Here’s my primary job at the zoo as a mom.

Sure, I help break up fights over who will hold the map.

I plan our itinerary so we don’t bounce from the lions on the one end of the zoo, to the goats on the other end of the zoo, back to the giraffes way back where the lions are.  No, we will see the exhibits one at a time and in order!

I make sure no little hands slip into the fences and no children wander off in search of wild animals.

I decline to pay for every souvenir, snack, and photo booth that we see.

I take pictures of children giggling at the baby monkeys.

But mostly I do this—I point so that whoever my youngest child is at the time can actually find the animal in the tank or grass or exhibit or whatever.

I’ve been doing this for years.

See the lizard? 

No.

See, right there.  Look where I’m pointing.  See?

No.

See that leaf?  The big one right there?  Look under that.  See the lizard?

No.

Every so often, we struggle to find the tiger or the bear, but mostly it’s these camouflaging reptiles and miniature frogs that have us standing at the cage for more than five minutes squinting our eyes, pointing our fingers, and eventually giving up.

Not this time, though.

I’ve been taking kids to the zoo for years, but a few weeks ago I took my two-year-old and discovered he has super-sight.  My son can spot a hidden reptile or amphibian the moment he walks up to the glass.

Snake. Lizard. Frog.  He points and says the name like this is the easiest exercise on the planet.

Hiding under foliage?  Doesn’t matter.

Blending in with the pebbles?  Not a problem.

Hanging from a tree at the top of the cage?  Can’t fool him.

He sees what is hard to see and notices what is hard to notice.

I need vision like that.  I need spiritual super-sight.

Sometimes I’m searching through my circumstances and situations for the peace God promises.

Still, I can’t see it, not through the murky glass, not with my limited vision.

I need God to give me eyes that see His peace, even when it’s hidden, even when I don’t have answers, even when trouble looms, even when the waiting lingers and the uncertainty remains, even when I need the impossible.

Sheila Walsh writes:

In the last major conversation Jesus had with His closest friends, He spoke about peace–but not as we might have expected Him to (5 Minutes With Jesus).

We’d expect perhaps to find peace in the moments of calm or peace in the seasons of blessing.

We have peace when we’re at rest or peace when our relationships are happy and healthy, no one’s mad at us, we’re financially stable and physically well.

Isn’t that when peace comes?

Yet, Jesus told the disciples,

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace (John 16:33a ESV).

What things had He said to them?  Had He been talking about heaven, miracles, salvation, grace?

Not at all.

In John 15 and 16, Jesus tells his dearest friends about sorrow and His imminent death, about persecution and martyrdom, and how the world will hate them and harm them.

Then He gives them hope.

Then He promises them peace.

We seek peace in answered prayers, resolved situations, the end of conflicts or the arrival of provision.

We seek it in chocolate, bubble baths, getaways, and running away.

But peace isn’t found there.  Peace is found in Jesus Himself right where are in the middle of the pain, before the answers and the fixes and the resolution.

He told the disciples “in me you may have peace.”

Peace isn’t found in a position or a provision; it’s found in a Person.

Jesus is constant, unchanging.

He is faithful.

He is able.

He is compassionate and abundant in His love.

We can rest in Him, deeply rest.  We can entrust our lives to Him, every care and concern, every worry that keeps our thoughts churning at night as the clock ticks down hour after hour.

Jesus finished the promise to the disciples that night:

“In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33b ESV).

This is our courage.  Our reason to ‘take heart’ and have hope!  He has already overcome our every enemy and our every battle.

So, we look to Him and we ask for His vision right here when peace seems hidden and hope hard to see, when we’re staring at circumstances and not seeing the light for all the darkness.

Lord, help me see you!  Help me not lose sight of who you are.

 

 

 

What to do when I’m tempted to criticize

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ephesians 4-32

My friend was crying and telling me she felt like a total flake.  Life had been crazy, filled with mistakes and missed appointments, misplaced papers, forgotten promises, everything lost and mixed up and wrong.

I love my friend and I got it. Truly, I did.  I nodded my head and encouraged her while other shoppers pushed their carts past us in the grocery story.

But inside, in the secret places of my mind and heart, that compassion wasn’t complete.  It was hollow, pat-her-on-the-back kind of friendship–the kind that is sorry she had a bad week, but fell short of true understanding or free-flowing grace.

The truth was, deep down, I was judging her as much as she judged herself.  And it was ugly.

Forgetting, missing, losing, making mistakes? It sounded like a too-busy schedule and an absent organizational system.  Maybe a few files and a day planner could save the day.

Two weeks later, I was sobbing at my kitchen table.  It had been a week of misplaced papers and missing items—not little insignificant things—BIG things, like legal documents and DMV paperwork.

For someone generally in control and on top of things, the week had been devastatingly humbling.

Then, I felt the deeper challenge.

God never lets me get away with passing silent judgment or criticism on another.  Never.

Nor should He.

The very moment I start internally critiquing another mom or putting another friend in a labeled box based on her mistakes and weaknesses, I know God will be at work in my life, bringing me to my knees to ask for forgiveness.

Because I need a Savior.

Because I’m a mess, too!

I’m not perfect and my life isn’t perfect and the thing we all need as moms and as women and as flaw-filled humans is heaping loads of grace and compassion, not quiet judgment or silent criticism.

We stumble into the judge’s seat so easily, thinking we know the people around us:

The frazzled-looking momma with the crying baby in Wal-Mart.
The parents whose teenager disappeared from church.
The couple who met with the divorce lawyers last week.
The husband and wife holding the bankruptcy paperwork.
The family with the nice new car and large house.
Those who homeschool (or don’t).
Those who have large families (or small).
The mom who commutes every day to work (and the one who doesn’t.)
The highly fashionable woman next to you in church, with perfectly polished nails, a size 4 waist, and a wardrobe that looks like it costs more than your house (or the one in jeans and a t-shirt).

As long as we’re quiet about it, after all, there seems little harm.  It’s only in our heart, only our own private thoughts of criticism.

Maybe it spills over occasionally into snarky remarks and private jibes with like-minded friends, but mostly we control the collateral damage.

Yet, isn’t that the picture of the pharisees in Luke 5?

Scripture tells us: “One day Jesus was teaching and Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there” (Luke 5:17).

They had front row seats, a privileged view of the hurting crowd.

They watched four friends carrying a man on a mat and lowering him down through the ceiling.  They watched as Jesus healed him, saying, “Friend, your sins are forgiven” (Luke 5:20).

While the man and his friends rejoiced and the crowd marveled, others remained unmoved:

The Pharisees and the teachers of the law began thinking to themselves, “Who is this fellow who speaks blasphemy? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” (Luke 5:21).

They were just “thinking to themselves.”  They weren’t gossiping or heckling Jesus.  They didn’t hop up then and there to condemn Him.

It was just an internal dialogue, a private moment of judgment and condemnation.

But, “Jesus knew what they were thinking and asked, ‘Why are you thinking these things in your hearts?‘” (Luke 5:22).

Even our most secretive judgments of others have an audience—Jesus Himself.  

Would He also be disappointed about what I’m thinking in my heart?

After all, judgment that doesn’t appear on protest signs or Facebook posts or Twitter feeds is still judgment and it still hurts.

Instead of criticizing or labeling others when I see them struggling or hurting, I should be drawn to intense and consistent intercession, praying for them rather than picking at them.

As Oswald Chambers wrote:

‘God never gives us discernment in order that we may criticize, but that we may intercede.’

I should be slow to condemn and quick to pray for others.

The truth is I’m desperately in need of the grace Christ has poured out on me, and if I need that kind of grace, then I need to show that kind of grace: unhindered, unqualified, unmarred by an undercurrent of criticism and condescension.

Just grace.

Beautiful, pure, deep down honest grace.

(Author’s note: Of course, this doesn’t mean we can’t discern or judge right from wrong, sin from not-sin, etc.)