Why I hope you don’t see me

1 John 1

Years ago, I read about a man who had one daily habit he still maintained after decades and decades upon decades of marriage.

Every morning, he woke up before his wife and everyone else in the house.  He took a shower.  He shaved.  He brushed his teeth.  He combed his hair.  He dressed.

He wasn’t trying to give his wife more time in the bathroom either.

He said he always wanted his bride to see the best of him—the washed, brushed, shaved and dressed side of him.

I remember thinking the sentiment was sweet.  Every so often, I feel a bit guilty when less-than-the-best-of-me is rushing around the house getting everyone ready for school in the morning.  Maybe the guy had it right.  Maybe I should do the same.

But I don’t.  I’ll be honest.

The truth of my life is that my kids are my alarm clock and they seem to wake me up early enough already.

My son is the first sound I hear right across the house— “Mom!!!”

And, he doesn’t seem to mind the sight of me as I pad into his room in bare feet and lift him out of bed, carry him to the sofa and snuggle down with him for a few minutes of quiet before everyone else awakes.

He never complains about my bed head or my morning breath or my yoga pants and t-shirt.

He seems pretty content simply to enjoy my presence.

And in those moments of quiet as we wait for the rest of the house to cease their slumber, I quietly pray and consider the day (and try to actually wake up).

Maybe those few minutes of heart-grooming are what I need anyway.

Because facing my husband, my kids, the blur of the morning activity with my mind set on Christ feels like it reaches down into deeper parts of my soul than any session with make-up and a hair dryer anyway.

And surely what I want for them to find in the morning is a wife and a mom reflecting Jesus, even before I’ve had caffeine and a few minutes in front of the mirror.

Not that I’m begrudging some hygiene and grooming, of course.  No need to forego personal care indefinitely!

But I’ve been thinking lately about what it would look like for me to be a tabernacle for the Spirit of God, a place where His glory dwells, just a building really, an outer frame where Christ lives within.

And, after all, that’s what we’re supposed to be.

John 1:1 tells us:

The Word became flesh and took up residence among us. We observed His glory, the glory as the One and Only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth (HCSB).

He took up residence here.  The root of this phrase is “He tabernacled among us.”

This is Christ dwelling among men, housing the very nature of God within the confines and restrictions of human flesh.

And now— His spirit dwells within us, and He should still be visible, not hidden away—not by our skeletal frames, not by the skin, not by the makeup, not by the outfits, not by the coordinated shoes and handbags.

Whether we’re still in our pajamas or we’re dressed to the nines, people should see God’s glory all over us.

Because, that’s what happens when God’s Spirit dwelt in the Tabernacle out in the wilderness with Israel.

34 Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. 35 And Moses was not able to enter the tent of meeting because the cloud settled on it, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.  (Exodus 40:34-35 ESV).

The cloud of God’s glory settled on that mobile sanctuary and you couldn’t see the building itself for the glory surrounding it.   It was completely covered by the cloud of His presence.

All you could see was Him.

And, that’s what I want.

Yes, in the morning.

Yes, when I’m stressed.

Yes, when I’m annoyed.

Yes, when I’m hurt.

Yes, when I’m rejoicing.

Yes, when I’m failing.

Yes, when I’m weeping.

Yes, when I’m serving

ALL the time yes—may God’s glory settle on my life with such a cloud of His presence that people can’t see me through the thickness of it.

They can only see Him.

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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King

Giving without holding anything back

Proverbs 21

We have entered birthday party season.

That’s when school is in swing and the invitations start coming home rapid fire, weekend after weekend.  With my three girls all in school now, birthday party season has become a significant family investment.

We now have ground rules.

My kids announce the latest invitation before the minivan door even closes at the end of the school day, and I ask this all-important question:

Is this a real, actual, true friend?

This isn’t just a peripheral acquaintance whose last name you don’t know.  This isn’t the kind of ‘friend’ who sits across the room from you, one you never play with on the playground, and someone you’ve never actually seen eat lunch.

This is an actual friend.  You can tell me her full name, her likes and dislikes and something she might have in her lunchbox.

Once we’ve passed the true friend test and the calendar test (does this even remotely work with our crazy schedule), we’re on to planning a gift.

My kids love picking gifts for their friends.

Now, they sometimes lose a little perspective.  It happens.  We scan the aisles of the local Wal-Mart and they pick out gifts in the $50 range.

I re-direct them until we finally find IT: the perfect gift for the true friend.  Into the cart it goes and we tote it home with excitement.

Then, my kids spend the next week gazing longingly at this present as it sits on my dresser waiting to be wrapped.

It’s a good present.

In fact, it’s now exactly what they themselves would like for Christmas (hint, hint, hint).

My youngest daughter asks me, “Mom, did you happen to buy two of those?”

Now, I know full well my Mom-intentions.  I will surely buy this same prize gift, wrap it up for her and set it under the tree for Christmas morning.

But she doesn’t know that…and I don’t promise her that.

Maybe I want her to be surprised.

But maybe also this—I want her to give away the very best without knowing if she’ll get it back.

Sometimes we’re reluctant gift-givers.

We give out of excess.  We give from confident positions of wealth and security.  We give what we know we can do without.

We clear out cabinets of unwanted canned food during food drives and sometimes we don’t even look at the expiration date.

We clean out closets and send on clothes that are worn, outdated, faded, and even stained.

Yet, our offerings to God and our gifts to others should require sacrifice, not just out of our more-than-enough; we should give our best gifts to a God who has given His ALL to us.

And when we give, we let go.

We don’t hang on tight, trying to dictate how our gift is used, making sure God makes the most of it, making sure the sacrifice was worth it, making sure we’ll get it back.

I read this week what God asked His people to give:

You are to give them the firstfruits of your grain, new wine and olive oil, and the first wool from the shearing of your sheep (Deuteronomy 18:4 NIV).

I’ve always thought about their sacrifices to God needing to be unblemished, needing to be pure, needing to be worthy.

But what God asked here was for the gift of the first: the first grain, wine, oil, and the first wool from a newly sheared sheep.

In her book Scouting the Divine, Margaret Feinberg describes how the first shearing is a once-in-a-lifetime offering:

Each sheep’s best wool comes only for its first-ever haircut, with every subsequent shearing decreasing in value.  I was intrigued by the idea that God asked for…a shearing that could never be recovered.”

They had to give God what they knew they would never ever get back from Him.  They had to trust that He’d care for and provide for them anyway.

We also have to give and trust God with the results.

For me, it means giving God my best writing and not telling Him what to do with it.  Just laying it down and leaving the results up to Him.

As a mom, it means skipping sleep and sometimes missing meals, certainly giving up moments of peace and my own personal agenda (and so much more).

We sacrifice as wives, as friends, as moms, as leaders, as teachers, as caregivers.

We give and give and give and give.  We pour out.  We take our greatest gifts, the very best of our offering, and we lay it right down, and we sacrifice without knowing if we’ll get anything back.

Because this is our offering to God: Not just the gifts themselves, but how we trust Him to care for us even when we’ve given our best away.

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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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King

Lessons Learned from Heather the Sheep

Isaiah 40

She stared at me and I stared back at her.

One woman named Heather…..one sheep named Heather….looking across a farmyard of other creatures and people at one another.

She was probably thinking about lunch, about the quality of the grass, or the warmth of the day.

You know, sheep things.

I was thinking how appropriate it was to find this woolen sheep named “Heather” at the pumpkin patch.

I needed the reminder, with worries and unknowns, impossibilities, needs, and concerns.  I needed the message that I’m simply a sheep and I need a shepherd.

No, I have a Shepherd, a Good One, One who promises to care for me, to lead me, to bring me to rest, to provide for me, to protect me and even defend me from the attacks of the enemy and my own foolishness.

So, I can be still.  I can stop fretting over what to do and how to do it and just enjoy the grass, the day, the weather, choosing instead to rest and relax and follow along after Jesus.

Seeing our Savior this way, as our Shepherd, promises us so much….

Provision….Rest….Salvation….Deliverance…..Protection…..Love…..Belonging…..Guidance…..015

I consider, though, the responsibility.  I’m not only His sheep…I’m a Mama Sheep.  I’ve been entrusted with the care of His lambs, three daughters, one son, all looking to this Mama Sheep as she tags along after the Shepherd.

Just like Peter, sitting across a crackling fire on the beach talking with Jesus, I receive this charge:“Feed my lambs”  (John 21:15).

Not just ship them off to church once a week, maybe even twice a week, and hope someone else teaches them the basics about faith, God, and the Bible.  No, that’s my job, and the church is there to partner with me and help me, but never to absolve me of this joy and this responsibility to build into my children’s faith.

In his classic book, Spiritual Parenting, C.H. Spurgeon, teaches me:

First before teaching, you must be fed yourself: The Lord gave him [Peter] a breakfast before giving him a commission. You cannot feed lambs, or sheep either, unless you are fed yourself.

So I start with my own walk, my own growing in the Word, my own prayers, my own time with the Shepherd.

Spurgeon challenges me again:

1. It is careful work. Lambs cannot be fed on anything you please, especially Christ’s lambs. You can soon almost poison your believers with bad teaching. Christ’s lambs are all too apt to eat herbs that are poisonous….Care must be taken in the work of feeding each lamb separately, and the teaching of each child individually the truth that he is able to receive.

2. It is laborious work. With all who teach: they cannot do good without spending themselves… There must be labor if the food is to be wisely placed before the lambs so that they can receive it

3. It is continuous work. Feed my lambs is not for a season, but for all times. Lambs could not live if they were fed once a week. I reckon they will die between Sunday and Sunday. The shepherding of the lambs is daily, hourly work. When is a shepherd’s work over? How many hours a day does he labor? He will tell you that in lambing time, he is never done. He sleeps between times when he can, taking much less than forty winks, then rousing himself for action. It is so with those who feed Christ’s lambs.

It begins to feel so heavy, so overwhelming.

What if I mess up?  Say the wrong thing?  Miss an opportunity?  Sin?  Set a bad example?  Fail to address a character issue?  Fail to point my children to Christ?

Yet, just as my Good Shepherd promises me love, protection, guidance, and care for my needs, He also promises me this:

“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young (Isaiah 40:11)

This unties that one last heavy burden of anxiety and worry off my fluffy sheep shoulders.

God doesn’t just care for me; He helps me care for my family also.

God leads me, and He does it gently, as I tend to my lambs, the tiny ones He’s entrusted to my care.  Not just that, He scoops up my precious children and holds them close to His very own heart….closer than they can even be to my own beating life-muscle.

They can listen into the heart of the Shepherd, snuggled into His chest, kept safe, carried, beloved.

And I can rest knowing that He’ll help me, He’ll teach me, and He’ll show me how to feed these lambs…

Originally posted 9/25/2013

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.

When you’re tired of asking everything else, ask Who

Psalm 86-15

My daughters wrestle with my son. They tickle him and bounce him down on the bed.  They invent games, make-up reasons to chase him.

He, in turn, grabs the light sabers and initiates a duel.

They squeal through the house.

But then….

Mom calls the girls to homework time, or reading time, or piano time, or some such other responsible nonsense.

My son’s answer to the abandonment by his favorite playmates?

Scream across the house at the top of his lungs:

Wauren!!!!

Tat-Tat!!!!!

Climb all over them on the piano bench.  Pull at their pencil-holding arm while they try to fill in the homework worksheet.  Yank them up out of the sofa and demand that they chase him again.

Wauren!!!

Tat-Tat!!!

These are the nicknames my son has bestowed on my girls.  Toria (Victoria), Wauren (Lauren), and Tat-Tat (Catherine).

He calls for them all day long.  He summons them for playtime through the afternoon and evening.  He cries for them when they climb onto the bus and when they head off to bed for the night.

Names matter to this two-year-old right now.  He’s learning to get attention (more like demand it.)

And these are the names that matter most: His family.  He knows his Mom and Dad.  He knows these three sisters who adore him.  And he points to his own chest and names himself:  “An-dew.”

I love in the book of Ruth how Naomi asks her daughter-in-law about the first day of gleaning in the fields.

Ruth probably came home tired after the day of working.  Yet, her arms were full of her day’s pickings.  She must have been rejoicing, thankful, excited!

After all, gleaning could be risky for a young woman on her own.  Who knows where you could end up: a field with a dishonest farmer or, even worse, one with a lusty field hand.

But Ruth returns home safe and returns home with abundance.

So, Naomi asks, “Where did you glean today? And where have you worked?” (Ruth 2:19 ESV).

Ruth knows the real answer isn’t about the where.  She doesn’t launch into geographical descriptions or give the name of the farm.

Instead of answering Where, Ruth tells Who: “The man’s name with whom I worked today is Boaz” (Ruth 2:19 ESV).

Kelly Minter writes:

“Isn’t the who always so much more significant than the endless how’s, what’s and why’s we endless fret over? I tend to toil over details, trying to figure out how things are going to work out, where help is going to come from.  It is then that I am most in need of Jesus…”(Ruth).

My son knows what matters most right now is his “Who.”

Ruth knew that her “Who” mattered far more than the “Where.”

Surely we should know the same.

I fail at this so often.

My kids had to ride the bus home from school, something they hadn’t done in four years.  I’ve been picking them up all this time.

So, I fretted over that change in the routine all that day.  I prayed about it and asked others to pray about it.  I watched the clock and distracted myself with activity, anything to keep my mind off what might happen if things went wrong.

I forgot my Who.

My faithful God, the God who loves me and loves my children more than I ever could, can care for them.  I need to trust Him to hold them in His own hands and stop freaking out over the tiniest details as if I’m the one who is really in charge here.

Maybe this is the hardest thing, for a mom to entrust her babies to God.

I want to hover, want to protect, want to plan out every detail and avoid every hurt or disappointment.  I want to combat every bully and avoid every bad influence.  I want to control the conversations on the playground and every detail of their day.

But I need to trust my Who.

I trust in His faithfulness:

But you, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious,
    slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness (Psalm 86:15 ESV).

We can worry over countless details every day.

We can sink under the incessant pounding waves of anxiety:

Where are you going to find safety and provision?

How is this all going to work out?

When will this trial be over?

What am I going to do about this?

Or, we can erase all of the excess and get down to the essential:  Whom do I trust?

Who is my God?

He is faithful.  He is gracious and compassionate.  He is able, strong and mighty and oh so merciful.  He is our Provider and our Shepherd.  He is Love.

He is our perfect Father.

We can rest in Him.

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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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King

 

Finding Home | The place where being you is being enough

psalm 90

Both of my older girls worked hard.

During the busiest, craziest week we had so far this school year, both girls picked campaign slogans, drafted their speeches, typed them out, edited them and practiced until they were just right.

They both finished their homework quickly and then clocked over two hours a piece in between evening activities to design and create their campaign posters.

One of my daughters won the student government officer election at her school.

The other lost.

These kinds of unbalanced victories are tough for us.  With two overachievers so close in age, it’s never easy to cheer and console at the same time.

But we did it.

I watched them climb into the minivan and I knew it right away.  One girl had a bouncy step and smile.  One girl held herself together until she flopped down into her seat and started to cry.

It probably wouldn’t have been so bad, except a mean boy rubbed the loss in my younger daughter’s face and called her “dumb.”

Life can sure be disappointing sometimes.  People sure can be cruel, trodding all over you when you’re already down in the dust.

So, I whisked them right from school to Subway (their favorite meal) and then did one better: milkshakes for everyone.  Because we needed it.  Somedays, you just need a milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top.

And then we went home.

That’s where we hugged and we congratulated and we reassured.  We looked into big blue eyes and spoke words of courage: “I’m so proud of you no matter what. You did awesome.  You were amazing. Sometimes we don’t win, but we have to take pride in how hard we worked and how we did our very best and our best is always good enough.”

Home is where you can celebrate and everyone joins in and cheers for you because they’re all on your side.

Home is where you drag your disappointed heart with its hurt and sadness, and it’s safe here.  You are hugged.  You are loved without conditions and expectations.  These are your people, the ones who are for you.  The ones who won’t mock your tears or tell you to ‘buck up and just get over it.’

Home should be the safe place.  The united place.  The place where being you is being enough.

Of course, Home isn’t that way for everyone.  And that’s the great tragedy.  It must break God’s heart to see how Home sometimes hurt instead of heals.

But at least here in my space, in my life, for my family, I want Home to be the refuge God meant it to be.

I read in Psalm 90:1, how Moses prayed to God.  He said:

“Lord, through all the generations you have been our home” (NLT).

I’ve read this in other translations before.  The ESV says the Lord has been our “dwelling place” and the HCSB says the Lord has been our “refuge.”

But I let that word “home” echo a bit and think about what it means for God to be Home for me.

My safe place.

My refuge.

The place where I abide, live, dwell…where I relax and be myself, where I kick off my shoes and plod around in my white socks, where the masks are off and people see the real me, where I wash off my makeup, where I mess up sometimes and ask for forgiveness from those who love me still.

God is my Home.

He’s celebrating our victories.

And He’s wrapping us up in arms so big when we unload the disappointment, hurt and sadness we’ve been carrying on our shoulders.

In a world where we can feel judged and criticized, like people are always jumping in with suggestions of how we should be, where bullies and mean girls set themselves against us, God is our Home.

He loves you as you are.  He says you’re beautiful.  He says you have value and worth and He’s proud of you and He’s seen it–all of it—all your hard work and effort–and He says it’s good.

I wonder what it was like for Moses to write that God was his home?

Moses–the slave baby sent into the river on a basket, raised by an Egyptian princess in a palace where he didn’t quite fit in.

Moses–the murderer turned fugitive, who spent 40 years out in the wilderness tending sheep and living outside his community.

Moses–the leader of a nation that spent another 40 years wandering around the desert, pitching tents, moving on and never lingering in one place for long.

For the unwanted, for the outsider, for the broken, for the sinner, for the prodigal, for the wanderer, for the leader, God was Home.

God is Home.

Welcome Home.

P.S. Turns out that my daughter didn’t win the officer election, but still gets to be part of the SCA as a class representative!  A new day and a fresh perspective helped her feel much better.

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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King

This is why I need a Savior

psalm 103.jpg

I was a freshman in college when an older friend took me for a walk and confronted me about the deathly sharpness of my tongue, how I could cut another student to pieces and leave them in shreds on the campus floor.

Since then, there has been grace.

The Holy Spirit dug out mounds of trash and began growing kindness, gentleness, and self-control in me.

I started to think that this new ‘me’ is the real me, the gracious and gentle me who loves others and keeps her tongue in check.  I thought I had learned the lesson:

There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts,
    but the tongue of the wise brings healing (Proverbs 12:18 ESV).

But it was pride, foolish pride.

Now, the Lord is breaking that self-righteousness right down. It stings and aches, and I’d just like Him to finish the construction project already so I can stop feeling so bruised and laid bare.

I’ve been losing my ‘cool,’ snapping back when I felt challenged, flashing to defend myself.

One time felt like a fluke, just a bad day. But then it happened again. And again.

Every time, I’d think, “What’s wrong with me?  That’s not who I am!”

I’d spend days, weeks even after each incident rehearsing the scenes in my mind, wincing at my words, embarrassed and ashamed.

I resolved to try harder next time. Be calm. Stay in control. Take deep breaths.  Don’t talk when provoked.  Be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to get angry.

Not that I’m cursing or yelling, of course.  It’s just that temporary loss of control, speaking now and thinking later (with regret).

That’s not me.   I’m sweet and kind.  I’m patient and slow to speak.

That’s what I kept telling myself.

But the truth is even when I kept control of my tongue, the trash was in my heart–the criticism or judgments, the flashes of self-protective wit and anger.

Now God seems to be letting the trash of my heart come pouring out my mouth so I can’t hide it, not even from myself.

I keep entering the boxing ring and beating at myself with the same commentary.

I can’t believe I said that. 

That’s not me.  That’s not who I am. 

What’s wrong with me?

Why am I so easily provoked?

I am an idiot.

I’m so embarrassed.  

I review my day as a mom and realize I blew it here and I messed up there.  I hear how my tone of voices loses gentleness even with my own kids.

I’ve spent months carrying around a load of shame and embarrassment because I just can’t seem to shake my reactivity.

What’s wrong with me?

Then this weekend, I read Simply Tuesday by Emily P. Freeman and she pinned me to a display board when she said this:

Shock and shame are my most natural and immediate responses when I make a bad choice or have a bad reaction….If I feel shocked and ashamed when I snap…, maybe I’m assuming I can handle life on my own and I don’t really need redemption, not really. And so when my soul has a bad idea, I can’t believe it.

Shock and shame. That’s been me.

Why am I so shocked by my own sinfulness?  Every. Single. Time.

It’s because I’ve been leaning so heavily on my own self-righteousness that I’ve failed to collapse in the arms of grace.

It’s because I’ve been assuming I could be perfect and am angry when I’m not.

I have messages I tell my kids over and over, hoping they’ll ring true in the deepest parts of them.

I love you.

You’re beautiful. 

I believe in you.

And this:

No one is perfect. We all mess up.  We sin.  That’s why we need a Savior.  If we could be perfect on our own, we wouldn’t need Jesus.

Maybe in this season of humility and the breaking down, I find myself learning the lesson I’ve been preaching—

Accept the grace.  Be loved.

Stop being shocked and embarrassed because I need a Savior.

Be humbled and live in awe of the One who Saves.

I don’t receive mercy because I’m perfect; I receive it because I’m imperfect and relying on Christ.

Aren’t we all?

The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
    slow to anger, abounding in love.
He will not always accuse,
    nor will he harbor his anger forever;
10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve
    or repay us according to our iniquities.
11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
    so great is his love for those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west,
    so far has he removed our transgressions from us (Psalm 103:8-12 NIV).

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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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King

 

I Get It! You’re Not a Baby Anymore!

Jeremiah 9

My sweet Andrew,

People like to tell me all the time how big you are.

They stop me in the hallways at church.

They shake their head in wonder when we pick your sisters up from school.

They post comments when I share your picture on Facebook.

Random strangers even chime in with a chorus of “what a big, handsome boy” when I’m waiting in the checkout line at Wal-Mart.

You are not a baby anymore, not by any means.

And, this probably makes you so proud and so ready to take on the world.

The other morning, in all of my sleepiness, I made the mistake of lifting you into your booster seat so you could eat your breakfast cereal.  You screamed at me for 5 minutes.andrew

You had to climb up in that booster seat yourself, grunting and working those muscles all the way.  And didn’t you flash me a look of “see, I told you I could do this all on my own” when you finally made it?

 

I get it.  Two years old is about finding a voice, learning what’s ‘mine,’ bumping against the rules so you know where they are, and striking out into the big wide world of “I can do it myself.”

 

Just know how much we love you, how we’re standing strong on the rules at times because we love you so, and how I’m praying for you as you grow.

Your sense of humor and joy are a strength and a treasure.  Never lose that. 

You have this deep, deep belly laugh that shows up in your eye
s, and the tiniest things will send you into fits of giggles.  You explore every possibility and love to play, initiating light saber duels, tickling sessions, peekaboo, and dance-a-thons with us.

This big world sure is a wonder.  Always look wide-eyed.  Don’t miss out on the joy.  And laugh: Laugh often and laugh hard.

It’s okay to know what you want, but make sure you want the right things. 

I’ve had go-with-the-flow babies and I’ve had know-their-own-mind babies.  You are the latter.  It’s a strength that I love about you.

Stand up for the right things even if no one else does.  Be honest.  Fight for justice.

But if you’re going to pursue what you really want in life, make sure what you want is good and true. 

Be passionate about God’s Word, about truth, about the Gospel, about compassion.

And know that the best things in this life aren’t just worth waiting for; they are worth working hard for.

Leadership begins with serving others.

Our family attracts comments everywhere we go—-how you’ll be so spoiled by three older sisters.  How you “don’t stand a chance.”  How you’ll be “mothered to death.”

My son, you are the baby in this family with three big sisters to dote on you and treat you like the center of the universe.

Know how much you are loved, but don’t be fooled into thinking this world should serve you.  Instead, serve others.

Be humble.  Put other people first.

Christ didn’t lead by demanding attention or through selfishness and abuse.  He led with humble self-sacrifice and compassion.  “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves” (Philippians 2:3 ESV).

Know beauty when you see it. 

I’ve spent years teaching three daughters that “Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting” (Proverbs 31:30).  I tell them that true beauty is Jesus in you; it’s strength, gentleness, wisdom, discipline, honesty, kindness, and Christ-like love.

They need to know how to be truly beautiful.

You need to know how to see true beauty.

By the time you start building up real memories of me, I’ll be about 40 years old and have birthed four children.  But, dear son, may you still see beauty in me: the real kind, the kind that grows with time instead of fading.  The kind that sacrifices self to pour out for others.  The kind of beauty that isn’t defined by a number on a scale or the color or style of my hair, but that comes from wisdom and grace.

You’ll find tons of girls who know how to do their hair, put on their makeup and choose the perfect outfit.  Don’t be deceived.

Don’t look for someone whose beauty peaks at 22 years old, before kids, and depends on products, expensive clothes, and hours in front of the mirror.

Look for someone who will be beautiful at 40…at 60….at 80.

True beauty isn’t how you look at any given moment; it’s always about who you are becoming.

And know this….

I am so deeply thankful that God chose me to be your mama.  What an honor and a joy to have you as my son.

Love,

~Mom~

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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King

 

Fire drills, tornado drills, lockdown drills, oh my!

psalm 31-22

My daughter announced that she hates ‘drills.’

All kinds of drills, she says.

They were only about two weeks into the school year at the time.

They had fire drills.

They had a tornado drill.

My oldest daughter chimes in about ‘lock-down drills,’ and how her teacher is so funny but the one thing she is super serious about is anyone who dares to giggle, laugh or even squeak out a hint of noise during a lockdown drill.

“She’ll send you to the principal,” my daughter lowers her voice for added drama.

These older girls of mine try to reassure the youngest sister that drills are essential and there to help and not really a big deal.

But the baby girl is testing out fear here.  I can see it on her face and I hear it in the way she keeps bringing these drills up.  When she gets home from school.  Over dinner.  In the minivan.  As she climbs into my lap for bedtime prayers.

“The drills…the drills….the drills…”

Clearly, they are on her mind.  And we older and wiser ones keep jumping in with confidence that everything is fine and not to be afraid, but she’s just not convinced.

So, the fear is kind of leaking out of her heart and into our conversations.

Oh, I don’t blame the drills, of course.   I let her tell me about them all over again and then I look right into her two blue eyes and I even brush away her wild bangs so she can’t miss this reassurance:

Those drills are there to keep you safe.  So that if anything ever happens, you’re not too scared to do the right thing.  We drill now so we don’t have to be afraid later.

She nods knowingly, but I’m her mom and I know we’ll probably have this conversation again in a month when the alarm goes off at school and all the kids file outside for yet another fire drill. So we pray about it, every time it comes up, I pray peace for her.

It’d be nice, it’d be great, it’d be heaven really if we didn’t need drills, if we didn’t have to practice for fire or intruders or tornadoes or a world of harm and hurt.

But we live here, on a broken earth with sin and natural disasters and trouble.

And how we react in the crisis makes a difference.

I know this because haven’t I been alarmed and sent into a dizzying whirlpool of fear at the slightest provocation?

A phone call.

An email.

A Facebook post, for goodness’ sake.

Maybe you, too?  The doctor’s report, the bill in the mail, the late night call, the hurtful remark, the broken car (again), the sobbing friend?

Trouble storms into our lives and how we react in the crisis matters.

We’re tempted to freak out and run around like a wild woman with her hands flailing hysterically in the air.

We’re in crisis mode.  Making phone calls.  Feeling hopeless.  Crying desperately.  Feeling helpless.  Rallying the troops and sending out an SOS signal and doing anything possible to keep from drowning.

I’ll be honest, sometimes it doesn’t even take a crisis, it just takes one tiny bump into my plans for the day for me to settle into a funk of frantic activity and aggravated grumpiness.

The Psalmist said it just right:

In my alarm I said,
    “I am cut off from your sight!”
Yet you heard my cry for mercy
    when I called to you for help (Psalm 31:22 NIV).

In our alarm, when the bad news comes and we haven’t had time for faith to kick in, we snap to the judgment that God has abandoned us.

He can’t see us.

We’re cut off from Him, alone, dependent on our own strength to get us out of this mess.

Our natural reaction to an alarm is haste and hysteria, foolishness and fear.

It’s unnatural to choose peace under pressure.

Yet, the Holy Spirit offers us just such unnatural, supernatural peace.

When everything settled and the crisis passed, the Psalmist recognized the truth: “Yet you heard my cry….”

In the haste of the moment, he had rushed into fear.  But then he saw what was true, God had indeed heard His cry for help.

What about us?

Over time, after alarm and alarm and alarm have passed and the dust settles and we see Jesus right there with us, surely we’d know by now what to do in case of crisis:

Cry to God for help.

Trust Him to hear your call.

Rest in the assurance of His presence.

Choose peace.

Not flaky peace, vague peace, warm-and-fuzzy-feeling peace, or the peace of blindness to our circumstances.

The peace that is the confident assurance of Christ’s presence right where we are.

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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King

 

What to do when you don’t find money in the girls’ bathroom

Psalm 20My daughter exited the girls’ bathroom at school looking disappointed.

We were there for an after school program and I was ready to rush on home, but I stopped the frantic backpack grabbing and asked her what was wrong.

“I was hoping I’d find some money in the bathroom.”

Now, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of this.

Was there typically money in the girls’ bathroom at school?

Was this an income source I wasn’t aware of?

Did the child so desperately need money that she actually searched public restrooms for stray dollar bills or coins?

No, it turns out she wanted to win the Citizenship Award at school and this particular month’s award was on the character trait: Honesty.

So, this girl of mine thought the best way to win an award for Honesty was to find money in the school bathroom and hand it in.  This seemed like a sure-fire strategy.

Only, no one seemed to be losing their money in the bathroom that month.

Now, I totally applaud the singular focus of this child and the strategic way she was thinking about her actions and how they fit (or didn’t) the character trait of the month.

But at the same time, I feel like our character should be honest, respectful, or kind with or without an award.

If a teacher notices that, then great!  A button and certificate are a special honor.

Yet, Jesus is watching always.  No need to force this or manipulate it into happening.  No need to plan out possible award-winning scenarios or plot out the best avenue for success.

I’m taking this to heart really, because I feel nagged by my own ambition and the expectations of others to force my future.

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Yes, there is wisdom in working hard and working wise.

How often, though, am I trying to force God’s hand?

Am I working myself right out of dependence on His favor and His blessing and right into self-made me?

I have one definition of success: God’s pleasure.

I have one strategy for achieving that: Obedience.

In the Bible, Rebecca knew all along that her younger son (Jacob) would topple the natural order of things and receive his father’s blessing and birthright instead of the older son (Esau).

But she didn’t trust God to make it happen.

Instead, she tricked and lied and cheated her way into “success.”

Oh, Jacob is no innocent, of course.  He was old enough to stand up to his mom when she told him to put on goat hair and his brother’s clothes, take in a meal she had prepared and deceive his blind and aging father into blessing him as the firstborn.

Maybe he remembered what these deceptive tactics cost him.

After all, decades later, Jacob was the aging father blessing his own sons and grandsons when Joseph brought in his two boys, Ephraim and Manasseh (Genesis 48).

And old-man Jacob kept getting it ‘wrong.’

He treated the younger son like the older son and vice versa.  It was backwards and mixed up.

So, Joseph tried to correct his dad.  “No, dad, this is my oldest son and that one is the younger.”

Jacob wouldn’t budge, though.

See how God did that?

God spoke and it was.  The younger son received the older son’s blessing without props, costumes, a grand deception or Rebecca’s elaborate schemes.

God just did it because He wanted to do it.

Beth Moore says,

The significant point is that when God seems to be prompting something out of the ordinary, we don’t have to manipulate things to make it happen and cause people to accept it. (Believing God, p. 96).

What freedom is this?

If God has declared it, He will do it. We can be part of that plan, but the plan never depends on us to make it happen; it all depends on Him.

If God has called you, obey by taking the next step and stop worrying about the end destination.

Our job is simply obedience, the beautiful call to trust and obey.  We take those steps of faith, we give our every effort to answer His calling, but we leave the results in His hands.

If we see money in the bathroom, we hand it in.  But we don’t stress over it if the money isn’t there!

We write.  We work.  We minister.  We stay faithful.  But we don’t try to manipulate results or manufacture ‘success.’

We just live honest.  Live faithful.  Live disciplined.  Live holy.  Live with compassion and mercy.  Live humbly.

Live for Jesus.

And leave our lives and our future all in His quite-capable hands.

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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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King

 

The Early Riser Who Isn’t a Morning Person

psalm 30-5My son is an early riser who really isn’t a morning person.

That means most days, he wakes up at the first hint of light and then grumps about it for the next hour.

Most of my kids have gone through this phase of waking mom up too early.  Over time and with training, most of them grew out of it.

Although, I do have one daughter who is simply a morning person.  She can bounce out of bed far too early and jump all over the house cheerfully with a running monologue about everything she wants to do that day—all while I’m laying back down on the couch to avoid fully waking up.

She’s always been like that.

Not my son.

The other day, it was the worst ever.  He woke up.  He woke me up.

Then, he yelled about everything he asked for.  Cereal.  Drink.  Blanket.  Curious George, Mickey Mouse or Thomas the Tank Engine.

He asked.  I gave.  He screamed.

Finally, I lifted that tiny bundle of morning-angst right up, set him into his crib and told him we needed a restart.  We’d try again in a few minutes.

Sure enough, about five minutes later, I once again greeted his sweet face with a “good morning” and a fresh start.

Bless his heart, that boy had started the day determined to be in a funk.  But a ‘restart’ button on the morning was what he really needed.

Maybe we do, too, sometimes.

Our emotions, they can overwhelm and overpower us.

And, while God created us with these feelings to be indicators of how we’re doing as we navigate the big wide world of life, He didn’t mean for those feelings to trample us underfoot.

Still, there are days that instead of bossing our feelings around, we feed those little monsters until they’re towering beasts.

We feel sadness, and we feed the sadness, giving into melancholy, reading sadness, listening to sadness, watching sadness, talking about sadness.

We feel anger, so we feed the anger.  We ‘vent’ and rage, we call our friends and get riled up all over again, we make speeches and post on Facebook.

In her book Wherever the River Runs, Kelly Minter writes:

“A high school student recently told me that she actually enjoys being sad, writing in her diary for hours about how she and her boyfriend continually break up and get back together.  She was like a melancholy teenage moth admitting her attraction to the sparkly light of drama.  I looked at her and as lovingly as possible said, ‘You’ll get over that’”

I remember those days.  Somehow when you’re a teenager, melancholy feels good because that’s when you know you write the best poetry.

But here we are all grown up and mature and I haven’t always truthfully gotten over that.

Some days, I let my feelings run crazy and pull me right along with them.

In the book of Ruth, we meet a woman named Naomi who endured great tragedy.  If anyone had the right to feel despair or sadness or deep grief, it’s her after losing her husband and two sons while living in a foreign land.

Yet, Naomi had a choice:  Give In or Find New Strength.

After she trekked back home to Bethlehem, she made a speech to her old friends:

“Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me.21 I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi, when the Lord has testified against me and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?” (Ruth 1:20-21 ESV). 

Her sorrow engulfed her whole identity.  She couldn’t be Naomi any more.  Now, she was Mara–“bitter.”

She was giving in.

She spills out the intensity of how it feels like God has abandoned you—The Almighty…The Lord…has done this to me, has dealt bitterly with me, has brought me back empty, has testified against me, has brought calamity upon me.

Oh, how so many of us have felt this also, that somehow–even though we know it isn’t true–it feels as though God has abandoned us or, even worse, set Himself against us.

In her Bible study, Ruth, Kelly Minter writes:

“Although there will be weeping in this life, the direction in which we weep is what truly matters” and  “What we do while we’re weeping makes the difference” (p. 22 and p. 45).

She calls it “weeping forward.”

It’s not staying stuck.  It’s not allowing grief to subsume us.

It’s choosing to get up each new day and confess all that sorrow to God, not faking or pretending everything’s great, but choosing this:  Choosing to overcome.

Choosing fresh starts and new mercies.

Choosing to keep going.

Choosing, if we have to, to weep forward.

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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.

Copyright © 2015 Heather King