That Time When She Ripped Me To Pieces on Facebook

May 20, 2015May 13, 20153 Comments

She ripped me to pieces on Facebook.

This person I didn’t know called me a “so-called Christian” who demonstrated absolutely “no love” in my answer to her question.

I read over what I had written that pushed her buttons. It seemed pretty straightforward. Something like, “If you click on this post here, you’ll find everything you need to know about what we’re reading this month and how to join in. Hope that helps!”

So-called Christian? No love?

Even if she didn’t like my answer, I’d say attacking my personal faith seemed pretty out-of-line.

I’m a people-pleaser. My love language is words of affection. So, when someone vomits criticism all over me like that, I’m pretty much a mushy puddle of disaster on the floor.

Clean up on aisle 5. That’s me.

This time I at least had the gumption to try to let it go. But it’s been a few months since that post and it still gets my heart racing when I think about it.

Sadly, we’ve entered some bizarre dimension of space and time where we can hack at people from the distance and anonymity of our computer.

People don’t feel personally responsible anymore for what they say because there’s no immediate or relational consequence to verbal abuse. We just click ‘send’ or ‘reply’ and cyberspace takes care of the rest.

I’d like to say that as Christians we’re known for rising above these drive-by slanders, but we’re not.

Paul wrote, “Let your gentleness be evident to all” (Philippians 4:5 NIV).

And yet, are Christians known for gentleness? I’d say not likely.

We’re not even known for treating one another with gentleness.

Too often, we’re quick to condemn, mock, judge, criticize, and ostracize one another instead of obeying Scripture and learning how to correct our “opponents with gentleness” (2 Timothy 2:25 ESV).

Maybe it’s because we think gentleness is synonymous with wimpy or weak. But that’s not the biblical definition at all.

We model true gentleness after that of Christ, who showed restrained strength and self-control even when responding to attackers.

Those who are spewing harshness are the ones who lack self-control. Gentleness is like holding back the full force of the ocean with quiet determination.

Maybe we think we’re just not gentle people. It’s not our personality. Other people are gentle; but we’re outspoken and frank and that’s just who we are.

Last year, I interviewed Mary Ann Froehlich about her book Courageous Gentleness and she said:

“the fruit of the spirit is not a personality trait.”

It’s not like God made some people to be loving and some people to be peaceful and some people to be gentle.

The fruit of the spirit isn’t another biblical catalog of spiritual gifts. It’s what every believer should have at work in us because the Holy Spirit is at work in each of us.

No Christian is exempt from the biblical mandate of gentleness even when handling those with whom we disagree.

In her new book, If I Plug My Ears, God Can’t Tell Me What To Do, Jessie Clemence writes:

Disagreement and discernment are both acceptable. But criticizing people’s efforts to serve God to the best of their ability is totally not fine. Romans 14:4 says, “Who are you to condemn someone else’s servants? Their own master will judge whether they stand or fall. And with the Lord’s help, they will stand and receive his approval” (NLT).

Who are we to condemn the service of another? Who are we to cut down the Lord’s anointed?

But we do it. Sadly we do just that.

Even in cases of doctrinal error, a private conversation or intense prayer can be far more meaningful than public denunciation and mockery.

In Scripture, David made the choice twice not to lay hands on King Saul.

God had abandoned Saul and anointed David to be King. Saul was in error. He was in sin.

If anyone deserved to be confronted publicly, condemned publicly, and punished publicly, it seems like it should be him.

And if anyone deserved to put Saul in his place, it seems like it should be David.

But David wouldn’t do it. Instead, he told his men

“The LORD forbid that I should do this to my lord the king and attack the LORD’s anointed one, for the LORD himself has chosen him” (1 Samuel 24:6 NLT).

David trusted God to handle Saul.

God forbid that I attack the Lord’s anointed.

God forbid that I criticize them, mock them, or try to destroy their ministry.

God forbid that I stand on my own platform and use it to judge their offering or pounce on their every word in order to pull it apart, take it out of context and denounce them.

I choose gentleness.

Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness (Galatians 6:1 ESV)

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.

Facts About Mom

May 15, 2015May 13, 20152 Comments

It seems to be a Mother’s Day staple for elementary school children. All three of my daughters have brought these projects home over the years with “Facts About Mom” (from the child’s perspective.)

I know other moms who have received these treasures and mostly we laugh together over the outrageous things kids say about us.

Like when they get our names wrong (!!!) or guess that we’re either 15 years old or 100, weigh somewhere around 40 pounds and are 20 feet tall.

This year, my kindergartener probably came the closest to giving all the right answers.

What do I love to do? Read books.
What do I say all the time? “Don’t fight over the Kindle.”
What is my job? Writing books and playing the piano at our church.

She did good.

Sometimes my other daughters got it right, too, painfully right in some cases.

Like when one of my daughters described me as “musical, gardener, ….and competitive.”

Competitive?

Ouch. This is the girl I’ve had to apologize to before because I had fretted and worried over foolish competitions and comparisons and she felt pressure from me when I’m really so proud of her as she is.

What is something your mom always says? “Do your homework. Play piano. Hurry up. Go to bed.”

Ouch again.

One year on that same assignment, this daughter wrote that I always said, “I love you.” A year later in her little pencil scribbles on the paper, she wrote down how I always gave instructions.

Why is it so hard to make the words, “I love you” ring truer and louder than the drill sergeant commands of everyday necessity?

What makes your mom mad? “When everything is out of control and no one listens.“

She got me.

Yes. Isn’t that what smashes down all of my hold-it-together personal strength? Isn’t it what makes me grumpy, short-tempered and anxious?

When everything is out of control….. and I forget that God is in control…. yes, that’s what makes me “mad.” That’s what God uses to plow right through my heart and break up all of that well-tended ground covering over my insecurities and my deep-down sin of misplaced trust.

Kids can be so wise.

As I hold this year’s Mother’s Day gift, I wonder what would I say about God on a worksheet like this?

Would I get it right? Not giving the dictionary facts or the Bible study answers. Not the good church girl responses or the pat Christian phrases that tie Mighty God up in neatly packaged paper with a perfect bow on top.

No: Would I know Him? Would I know His heart? What makes Him happy? What makes Him mad? What do I love about Him the most and why is He the perfect Father for me?

Or would I get it all wrong?

In the book of Job, one man lost family, friends, servants, status in the community, riches, property, and physical health. Without sinning, he questioned God. Why this seeming injustice, he wondered, why this tragedy and pain for a righteous man?

His friends got it all wrong. They thought they knew God, boxed Him up into super-spiritual-sounding cardboard.

Yet, God remains silent. He waits. He listens and doesn’t answer. Finally, after almost 40 chapters of Scripture, God speaks.

In her book Wonderstruck, Margaret Feinberg writes,

Instead of focusing on the Why’s of our life circumstances, God calls our attention back to Him and reminds us of the Who that controls everything (p. 37).

That’s God’s answer to the incessant questions. He never answers “Why,” but He tells who He is in one thundering declaration after another of His sovereignty and power over all creation.

It isn’t until the taking away, the sorrow, the mourning and the grief that Job doesn’t just know about God; He knows Who God is.

And that is enough.

Job says, “I know that you can do anything, and no one can stop you” (Job 42:1). Yes, now he knew, not about God, but now He had seen God with his own eyes (Job 42:5).

We also find intimacy in the silence.

We form intimacy in the listening, the waiting, the mourning, the times when we can’t trust the circumstances, but we can trust the heart of God.

That’s how we learn the “Facts About God,” the binding truths that we cling to when life obscures our divine vision.

Originally published May 15, 2013

Band-Aids Fix Everything

May 8, 2015May 8, 20154 Comments

I fought the good fight.

I lost.

It must be some guaranteed stage of child development: The Band-Aid stage.

It’s that season when kids believe in the magic of the Band-Aid to insta-heal all bumps, bruises, minor aches, pains, and scratches.

I have endured tantrums.

I have given speeches: You don’t need a Band-Aid for any casualty that doesn’t involve an open wound and significant blood loss.

But really. Truly. As a mom, it’s easier just to pop that glorified sticker over the bruise and be done with it rather than arguing unsuccessfully with a two-year-old about proper Band-Aid usage.

Maybe it wasn’t even the Band-Aid my kids needed; I know this. Perhaps it was the acknowledgement: I see you hurting. I’m tending to this need. I’m not going to leave you here aching alone, wounds sore, pain throbbing.

This is, after all, why Mom-kisses on the tiniest of boo-boos are where the miracle cures begin. Because the love and attention and the simply doing something–anything– says, “I love you,” louder than any actual words.

This is the Mom-life and the life of nurses, care providers, teachers, grandmas, and true friends.

It’s saying, “I care about you,” and meaning it at night when it costs you sleep and during the day when it costs you patience.

It means never pouring a cup of tea or a soda and drinking it all down yourself. It means spending all day putting other people first and scheduling every moment of your life around the schedules of other people.

“Motherhood is the big-leagues of self-sacrifice.” That’s what Rachel Jankovic wrote.

And this is the sacrifice, she tells me, that God finds such a sweet-smelling aroma.

We worship Him as we lay ourselves down, offering our lives to others, burning up our selfishness on the altar.

And, after all, as a mom shouldn’t I be thankful that for now a Band-Aid is all it takes to soothe the pain?

Sadly, that won’t last.

This world pesters and pounds, and wounds aren’t always so superficial and easy-to-heal. Sometimes they dig deep. Sometimes they fester and infect; they spread and ache long after we’ve bandaged over them.

So our calling becomes this: loving others enough to care about the depth of the pain rather than just covering over it with an ineffective Band-Aid.

Sure, we could snatch that trusty box down from the cabinet shelf and toss a sticky bandage over a hurt. All better. Stop your crying. No need to fuss. Don’t you see the Band-Aid I’ve slapped on your skin?

This is what Queen Esther did, unknowingly, of course. She heard of her cousin Mordecai’s distress. How he had torn apart his clothes and now sat at the city gate, covered over with burlap and ashes, wailing with loud bitterness.

She responded with concern, but without listening and understanding. Yes, she essentially snatched down the box of Band-Aids and sent one his way:

“She sent clothes for Mordecai to wear so he could take off his sackcloth, but he did not accept them” (Esther 4:4 HCSB).

That’s what she thought would help, just superficial care. Change your clothes. Stop that mourning, Mordecai, and everything will be well.

But he needed so much more.

He needed her to put her life on the line for her entire people by interceding with the king. Mordecai needed self-sacrifice, unselfishness, and humility. A change of clothes simply wasn’t enough.

When we love, we also need to take the time, to make the time, to thrust our hands into a hemorrhaging wound, if necessary, and become a right bloody mess in order to stop the bleeding out.

Jesus did this

He didn’t leave us desperately sick and dying. If he had only healed some physical hurts, if he had simply taught some important truths, if he had solely righted a few social injustices, he would have given Band-Aid care for a terminal disease.

Yet, Jesus did more, sacrificing His life for ours, because he knew we needed radical intervention to save our dying selves.

And then He asks us to live this life of love:

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34 NIV).

Loving with Band-Aids some days. Loving with time and attention on others. Loving with messy healing and laying ourselves down at times.

But loving like Jesus always.

Happy Mother’s Day, National Nurses Week, and Teacher Appreciation Week to all of you!!!
Thank you for all your care and sacrifice for others.

Originally published May 10, 2013

Look at Me (The Teacher’s Mantra)

May 6, 2015May 5, 2015Leave a comment

Look at me.

Look, look, look at me.

You’re not looking at me.

You need to look at me.

Look. At. Me.

Please.

That’s what she’s going to say this morning to the adorable and restless group of four-year-olds who are practicing their songs for their spring program.

She’s a teacher who knows these little cherubs will be just fine if they focus their eyes on her.

They’ll know when to start singing. They’ll know what words to sing. They’ll know when to stop singing and when to rest instead of barreling right through the song so they can get to the big finish.

But they’re four.

And they’re excited.

They are also occasionally annoyed with each other for various infractions such as not sitting in the right place, talking when they aren’t supposed to be talking, touching someone else’s hair, or messing up the singing.

They are eager to wave at the piano player (that’s me) while climbing up the steps to the stage, which inevitably holds up the rest of the line.

They are distracted by the child next to them, the child in front of them, and their own fingernails which apparently merit their undivided attention in the middle of a song.

So, no matter how many times their ever-patient teacher says, “Look at me,’ they forget.

And they look away, maybe at their neighbor or their fingers or the pianist. They look anywhere and everywhere but at the teacher.

Then there is the miracle moment, that one microsecond in time when the whole class actually looks at the teacher and we all smile back at them because they just sound great and their parents are going to take tons of pictures and post lots of videos on Facebook because four-year-olds are awesome.

Here’s the truth, though.

Preschooler aren’t the only ones who are easily distracted.

I know another choir directer in her nineties and I’ll tell you what she has to say to her own adult choir all the time.

Look at me.

Let’s be honest. Most of the time that’s probably what God is saying to us.

We’re a distractable lot, us humans, easily caught up in everything around us and everything within us. We may grow up, but we don’t necessarily grow out of it.

We’re distracted by others around us.

Why are they doing that? It’s invading my space. It’s so annoying. She is doing it wrong! That not right and it’s not fair!

She sings better than me. Why is she so perfect? How come I can’t look like her or sing like her or act like her?

We’re perpetually distracted by circumstances.

The bills are too much. The job is too difficult. The marriage is too strained. The kids are too lost. This is hopeless and impossible.

We’re distracted by our own inner voices.

You are a failure. You’re a mess. I give up! I cannot do this. I’m not capable. It’s just too hard. I’m not equipped, not strong enough, not sufficient!

We’re whining and complaining. Maybe flat out freaking out. Throwing a tantrum. Collapsing under the strain of anxiety.

But God is saying what He’s always said: Look. At. Me.

The Psalmist wrote:

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
²My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.

It’s an ascension Psalm, one in a series of songs the Jewish travelers would sing during their climb up to Jerusalem for the feasts and celebrations, a traveler’s hymn and a pilgrim’s chorus.

And, aren’t we all travelers here?

The journey had its dangers. Stumbling over rocks (verse 3), heat stroke and even moonstroke (verse 6).

Life is dangerous still.

But the promise is there. Our help doesn’t come from looking down at our clumsy feet. It doesn’t come from looking to the mountains, the sun, the moon, our fellow travelers, or the evil that threatens to overpower us.

We don’t need to look anywhere at all except at the Lord because our help comes from Him.

The Psalmist repeats a thought, over and over again like the rhythm of the waves beating against a shore:

he who keeps you will not slumber.
⁴Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵The Lord is your keeper….

⁷The Lord will keep you from all evil;
    he will keep your life.
⁸The Lord will keep
    your going out and your coming in
    from this time forth and forevermore (Psalm 121 ESV).

The Lord is your keeper.

Look at Him for guidance, for encouragement, for help, for strength, for assurance, for conviction, for compassion, for salvation, for provision, for direction.

Look at Him.

The Resting Place

April 29, 2015April 28, 20155 Comments

Next week is “the movie.”

That’s what my fourth grader calls it. She’s been fretting about this movie for two years.

She always lowers her voice when she speaks of it. She always calls it “THE MOVIE” in hushed capital letters. Occasionally, her hands even pop up to make quotation marks in the air.

Seems like they’ve been showing a movie like this to fourth graders for decades. I watched it when I was in school, but I sure don’t remember dreading it or worrying over it or spending months terrified of the potential embarrassment.

But that’s my girl. She’s a thinker. A planner. More like a fretter. Maybe an obsesser.

She gets most of that from me.

Okay, maybe she gets all of that from me.

I keep telling her the truth: There’s nothing in this movie about puberty and growing up that we haven’t covered here at home already. So, what’s the big deal?

But truth isn’t really cutting through the emotional trauma she’s built up over the years.

It’s rumbling around in her heart and mind, turning up in the most unexpected places. Last night, I mentioned how quickly April has flown by and she launched into another speech about the imminence of “The Movie” and how her life will end within the week.

Next week, I guarantee she’ll come home and I’ll say, “How was ‘the movie?’ and she’ll shrug it off for the absolutely mundane, not-terrible, unsurprising, non-monumental moment in her life that it really is.

But for this week: It’s a distractor. It’s a stressor. It’s an emotional time-bomb.

So, I’m playing the voice of reason for my daughter. I’m the quiet, calm purveyor of wisdom and I’m the one trying to give her a healthy perspective on this thing called life.

Because apparently when you’re ten, everything is a near-catastrophe.

But I need this for my own life, too.

Because I’m distracted. I’m stressed. I’m fretting over potentialities and playing through possibilities, just turning them over and over like a dryer tumbling my wet towels.

This is what I don’t want. Tumble, tumble, tumble.

But what if it happens? Tumble, tumble, tumble.

I want this….and I want that….and it’s impossible to have both. Tumble, tumble, tumble.

I read God’s Word and it just breezes through my mind without touchdown or impact.

But this finally hits home:

This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it (Isaiah 30:15 NIV)

Rest is what I need.

I say I need a vacation, or a break, or a getaway, or a long walk in absolute quiet.

But what I really need is a rested soul, a quiet spirit.

Oh, a physical rest would be nice, of course. But so often that’s a temporary fix and then it’s back to this pacing back and forth, this distraction, this tension.

I need a resting place in the here and now of this life, this moment, this situation, this day and everything that this day brings.

Isaiah wrote:

“This is the resting place, let the weary rest” (Isaiah 28:12).

And the resting place isn’t far. It’s not an exotic island and it doesn’t take a plane-trip to Hawaii or my entire savings account to get there.

It’s trusting Jesus.

In When Women Long for Rest, Cindy McMenamin wrote:

“Rest isn’t just laying down and clearing your mind. It’s retraining your mind to turn over the problems to the only One who is able to work them out.”

My heart finds rest when it sinks into the rhythms of grace God has established.

I’m no longer pushing, pushing, pushing for my own agenda or striving to set my own pace, or straining to head in my own direction.

I’ve relaxed into Him.

Elisabeth Elliott wrote:

“Jesus, in the unbroken intimacy of His Father’s love, kept a quiet heart. None of us possesses a heart so perfectly at rest, for none lives in such divine unity, but we can learn a little more each day of what Jesus knew…”

May I learn a little of this today: A quiet heart, a heart perfectly at rest because I’m aware of the intimacy of His love, trusting in His care, united in His will.

So “let the weary rest.”

If I do one thing as a mom, let it be this

April 22, 2015June 27, 20164 Comments

I prayed for this.

This girl of mine brought home stories from kindergarten about this friend and that friend and her BFFFL (Best Friend Forever For Life) and what top-secret info they had shared with her on the playground.

She learned cuss words. She learned attitudes. She learned meanness. She learned insults. She learned that when you spell S-E-X you should whisper. She learned far more than a five-year-old needed to know.

I visited her classroom and passed out snacks for a class party, listening into the conversation at her little table….

The kids interrogated me about why I wouldn’t let my daughter watch certain shows on TV. I felt like I was in a courtroom and this group of kindergarteners were trying to break me down under cross-examination.

By her second grade year, I finally spilled it out as a prayer request in my small group. My girl was fiercely loyal to friends who were tripping up her heart, and she just followed along after them like a blind sheep following another blind sheep off a cliff.

Dear Jesus, please help my girl choose good friends who are kind and who will spur her on to excellence, who will help her make good choices and encourage her to be her best, and who won’t lead her away from You.

I watched her playing with her friends this weekend, a full two-years after I started committing her friendships to prayer.

And, oh, I about cried at her birthday party. Not because my baby is nine-years-old (although that might be another breakdown in the making)…..

Because God so graciously answered my prayers for my daughter. She had gathered around her the nicest group of quirky, funny, playful, kind, encouraging, creative, sweet, and thoughtful girls, and each one of them is a reminder that God hears our prayers for our children.

He had built that shelter around her heart when she most needed it.

And I am thankful.

Sometimes it’s wearying, to keep praying when we don’t see the answer and to persevere on our knees when we don’t see results. Praying isn’t an insta-fix or a quick solution.

And some days I’m overwhelmed with my failings and failures as a mom.

I get caught up in what I didn’t do. I beat myself up over what I forgot. I stress over what fell by the wayside. I feel like it’s never enough and I should have done more. I said the wrong thing. I stepped in when I should have let my child handle it….or I didn’t step in when they needed me to handle it. I regret a decision and I wish I could take back what I said.

But what I need to know—-what moms need to know—-is this:

What matters most as a mom is time on our knees for our children.

We don’t have to get wrapped up in programs, extras, Pinterest-activities, decorations, household management strategies, and developmental milestones. We don’t have to compare ourselves to any other mom or our kids to any other kids.

We care for their needs. We love them. We encourage their hearts, and sometimes we also stress and fret ourselves into a blubbering mess over our kids.

Yet, we can trust God to care for our children. He knows them and He loves them even more than we do.

So, the best we can do for them is give them to Him.

I read the Psalms of David often, and pray through them, but I notice this one emptiness in his prayer life…..I don’t see him pray for his kids.

Mary prayed for Jesus.

Zechariah prayed for John the Baptist.

Abraham blessed Isaac.

Jacob prayed over his sons and his grandsons.

But David?

In Facing Your Giants, Max Lucado writes:

“Aside from the prayer he offered for Bathsheba’s baby, Scripture gives no indication that he ever prayed for his family. He prayed about the Philistines, interceded for his warriors. He offered prayers for Jonathan, his friend, and for Saul, his archrival. But as far as his family was concerned, it’s as if they never existed.”

David gave his kids a kingdom. He gave them power and financial success.

Maybe he should have given them the gift of a praying parent.

This is the gift I hope to give my children:

Arise, cry out in the night, as the watches of the night begin; pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to him for the lives of your children, who faint from hunger at every street corner (Lamentations 2:19 NIV)

Dear Daughter, When You’re Nine, Make It Count

April 17, 2015April 16, 2015Leave a comment

Dear Lauren,

There’s something about nine.

Eighth birthdays seem like a passageway to life as a ‘big kid.’ Welcome to third grade and the upper end of your elementary school years.

And then there’s ten, this monumental moment where you hit double digits and head into life as a ‘tween.’

But nine.

It’s a little bit of growing up and a little bit of holding on. Prepping for the big time. Enjoying life as a little for just a bit longer.

And that’s good. There’s no need to cling stubbornly to childishness and there’s no need to rush heedlessly into growing up.

So, happy ninth birthday! Enjoy it. Celebrate this year. Make it count, make it fun, and make it beautiful.

You are one loved girl. Sure, you shield your face with your hand in order to ward off our attempts to kiss you. You sidestep us as we try to give you a hug. I say, “I love you,” and you blink big blue eyes at me and purposely refuse to say the magic words back, “I love you, too.”

I tell you how beautiful you are and you ‘harumph at me’ in annoyance.

“No mushy stuff,” you say.

Affection has to happen on your terms and I get that. You cuddled up next to me on the sofa the other night and snuggled into my side and I just silently savored the moment. If I made a big deal about it, you’d probably re-establish distance, but I just slipped my arm around you and let you sit there with me.

Because I love you. That’s the truth.

We love your cackle, the way you throw your whole body and voice into laughing over a silly joke, a groan-worthy pun, pranks and knock-knock routines.

I love that independent soul of yours, even if it does mean we stand toe-to-toe and battle out anything from meal-times, to piano practice, to math assignments.

I love how fiercely loyal you are to those you care about.

Enjoy who you are. You like to call yourself a tomboy and you wouldn’t be caught dead in a dress unless it’s Easter Sunday or picture day at school (and even then you set pretty rigid parameters on acceptable clothing.) That’s fine. Girls don’t have to be prissy, frilly, pink and fancy.

Just remember that being a woman doesn’t mean being weak or being stepped on. It’s no punishment to be a girl. It’s an honor and privilege.

You’ve planned your whole life–no marriage, no kids, just two dogs that you’ll adopt from the pet shelter. If that’s what God wants for you, great. Just don’t think that somehow marriage is a burden or kids aren’t worth the pain of childbirth.

If you see anything when you look at your dad and me, I want you to see the way marriage is a blessing and a gift and how beautiful life is when lived with someone you adore who is your teammate and best friend.

Raw talent doesn’t determine success. You’re astounding. It was true when you were a toddler. It’s true now. You are a whirlwind of intelligence, memory, and creativity without being showy or in the spotlight most of the time.

Know this, though: Hanging on tight and not giving up is far more important than being smart.

So it takes you more than two seconds to figure out a math problem. Don’t put your pencil down, tear up, shrug your shoulders and walk away. Tackle it. Battle it out. Work on it this way and when that fails, work on it another way until you finally write that answer down.

So you have to actually study for 2 minutes. So you can’t play a song on the piano perfectly the first time you look at it.

The only failure is giving up. Wrong answers…Wrong notes…. All of that is okay as long as you are giving everything you have to give, persevering, overcoming fear, and learning from your mistakes.

We do excellence in this family, but we also do grace. We love each other through mistakes because we know mistakes are the price to pay for growth and learning.

So, don’t avoid trying something because it takes effort or because you might fail.

Try.

If you fall, get back up, but DO try again. DO push yourself for your best effort and never settle for what you can do with your eyes closed and your hands tied behind your back. That’s just what’s easy. Don’t settle for easy. Live for the challenge.

Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men (Colossians 3:23 ESV)

I can do all things through him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13 ESV)

Sometimes a Crock-Pot is Just a Crock-Pot (and other wisdom for the indecisive)

April 15, 2015April 14, 20153 Comments

An indecisive person (AKA me) plus a store aisle full of choices = paralysis, disaster, and maybe a meltdown in the middle of the Wal-Mart.

It all started when I poured spaghetti sauce ingredients into my beloved Crock-Pot. I felt like a domestic diva, a household management expert.

After racing from school to activities and then home, I’d be greeted by the aroma of simmering sauce instead of shoving a hamburger and French fries in my face after a drive-thru dinner run.

Win!

Only when I arrived home, there was no lingering scent of basil, oregano and tomato sauce in the air.

My Crock-Pot was still cold.

Knowing my propensity for human error, I ran through the possible list of user failures. Had I plugged it in? Check. Had I turned the dial from OFF to LOW? Check.

It had simply died. (Cue funeral dirge).

That means my shopping list now included the item: new Crock-Pot.

Was this a reason to celebrate? Or was it no big deal?

Neither, my friends.

This became a capital-D Decision. I prayed about it. I read about it. I scouted prices online.

Then I stood in that aisle with Jeopardy music ringing in my head, clocking the ridiculous amount of time I stared blankly at slow cookers. Who knew there were so many choices to be made?

Oval or round?

Which brand?

6 quart or 7 quart?

How many programming options did I want?

Was I willing to pay $80 for a slow cooker that would not only prepare delicious meals for me but clearly should also vacuum and do the dishes? (I mean, for $80 it needs to do something incredible.)

I waffled.

I waivered.

I see-sawed.

It was agonizing. Finally, my Wise Inner Voice held an intervention of sorts and talked my troubled, indecisive soul down off the ledge.

You need a Crock-Pot. This is not choosing a career, a college or who to marry. For crying aloud, you are simply choosing a relatively inexpensive cooking tool for your home. Just pick something.

So, I did. I wanted a Crock Pot with clamps on the lid so I could carry it to church potlucks without spilling soup all over the inside of my minivan.

Programmable would be helpful when I’m out all day and I need the slow cooker to start at noon.

Awesome. I had officially made a decision.

Until I got home. And, that Crock Pot sat in its box. A week later it is still sitting taped up in the original packaging on my kitchen floor.

Because….what if I change my mind?

What if I find a better deal?

What if I made a bad choice?

I am paralyzed by indecision. It is a daily occurrence in my crazy life for me to be trapped by what if’s, possibilities and the pursuit of what is right, wise, and perfect.

Do I want red or blue? Small or medium? The park or the zoo? Soup or a sandwich? To watch a movie or read a book?

Yes. No. Maybe?

I. Do. Not. Know.

And when I do decide, I evaluate and criticize that decision, living in a perpetual state of regret and self-condemnation.

I knew I shouldn’t have bought that Crock-Pot. What a stupid decision. What’s wrong with me?

So, this is the prison of indecision I inhabit, just four walls holding in my kind of crazy. I’m a cowering shadow, afraid of one false move or one bad decision that will disappoint God’s heart.

God says I can ask Him anything. So, I do. I pray for wisdom and guidance for every possible decision, including Crock-Pots.

No lightning strikes, though. No neon arrow points to the right choice.

But here’s what I need to learn.

Sometimes it’s okay to just choose a Crock-Pot. The world isn’t going to explode if I go with the oval one or the other brand.

Not every decision is a life or death matter of discerning God’s will.

Sometimes a Crock-Pot is just a Crock-Pot.

Sure, I’ll sometimes make the perfect decision.

And, at times I’ll just need to break off the chains of regret. So, things didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped. It’s in the past now. Time to let it go and make a new choice on a new day.

As Paul writes:

Brothers, I do not consider myself to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, ¹⁴I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:13-14 HCSB).

After all, God still loves me. He gives fresh mercy with each new day. His grace covers my every flaw, foible, and failure (regardless of my choice of Crock-Pot).

25 Bible Verses and a Prayer for the Thirsty Soul

April 13, 2015April 3, 201510 Comments

Nehemiah 9:15 ESV
You gave them bread from heaven for their hunger and brought water for them out of the rock for their thirst, and you told them to go in to possess the land that you had sworn to give them.
Psalm 23:1-2 ESV
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
² He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
Psalm 42:1-2 ESV
As a deer pants for flowing streams,
so pants my soul for you, O God.
²My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.
When shall I come and appear before God?
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 78:15-16 ESV
He split rocks in the wilderness
and gave them drink abundantly as from the deep.
¹⁶He made streams come out of the rock
and caused waters to flow down like rivers.
Psalm 105:41 ESV
He opened the rock, and water gushed out;
    it flowed through the desert like a river.
He split rocks in the wilderness
    and gave them drink abundantly as from the deep.
¹⁶He made streams come out of the rock
    and caused waters to flow down like rivers.
Psalm 107:4-6 ESV
Some wandered in desert wastes,
    finding no way to a city to dwell in;
⁵hungry and thirsty,
    their soul fainted within them.
⁶Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
    and he delivered them from their distress.
Psalm 114:8 ESV
who turns the rock into a pool of water,
the flint into a spring of water.
Psalm 143:6 ESV
I stretch out my hands to you;
my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.
Isaiah 12:2-3 ESV
Behold, God is my salvation;
I will trust, and will not be afraid;
for the Lord God is my strength and my song,
and he has become my salvation.”
³With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.
Isaiah 32:2 ESV
Each will be like a hiding place from the wind,
a shelter from the storm,
like streams of water in a dry place,
like the shade of a great rock in a weary land.
Isaiah 35:6-7 ESV
then shall the lame man leap like a deer,
    and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.
For waters break forth in the wilderness,
    and streams in the desert;
⁷the burning sand shall become a pool,
    and the thirsty ground springs of water;
in the haunt of jackals, where they lie down,
    the grass shall become reeds and rushes.
Isaiah 41:17-18 ESV
When the poor and needy seek water,
    and there is none,
    and their tongue is parched with thirst,
I the Lord will answer them;
    I the God of Israel will not forsake them.
¹⁸I will open rivers on the bare heights,
    and fountains in the midst of the valleys.
I will make the wilderness a pool of water,
    and the dry land springs of water.
Isaiah 43:19 ESV
Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.
Isaiah 48:21 ESV
They did not thirst when he led them through the deserts;
he made water flow for them from the rock;
he split the rock and the water gushed out.
Isaiah 55:1 ESV
“Come, everyone who thirsts,
    come to the waters;
and he who has no money,
    come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
    without money and without price.
Isaiah 58:11 ESV
And the Lord will guide you continually
    and satisfy your desire in scorched places
    and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
    like a spring of water,
    whose waters do not fail.
Jeremiah 2:13 ESV
for my people have committed two evils:
they have forsaken me,
the fountain of living waters,
and hewed out cisterns for themselves,
broken cisterns that can hold no water.
Zechariah 14:8-9 ESV
On that day living waters shall flow out from Jerusalem, half of them tothe eastern sea and half of them to the western sea. It shall continue in summer as in winter.
⁹And the Lord will be king over all the earth. On that day the Lord will beone and his name one.
Matthew 5:6 ESV
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
John 4:7-14 ESV
Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, ¹⁴but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
John 6:35 ESV
Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.
John 7:38-39 ESV
Whoever believes in me, as^[a] the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” ³⁹Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet glorified.
Revelation 7:16-17 ESV
They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;
    the sun shall not strike them,
    nor any scorching heat.
¹⁷For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd,
    and he will guide them to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
Revelation 22:17 ESV
The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.

Does God Listen When We Pray?

April 10, 2015April 3, 20154 Comments

“Listening is an act of love.”

That’s what she told me years ago as we sat around the table in our Bible study group.

She said it with a laugh, because she was a talker. She liked chatting, chatting, chatting. Listening was the sacrificial gift she gave to others.

Sometimes one phrase like that sticks with you years later. It presses that impression deep into your clay-heart and you can trace your finger along the imprint over and over, to remember, to act, to transform, to put it into practice.

It changes you.

Listening. That’s the act of love we give to others.

We quiet our own renegade thoughts, stop trying to think of what we want to say next, stop tuning others out in order to turn our selfish eyes inward once again.

We listen. Really listen. We listen so we can pray and ask the right questions. Yes, we listen so we can show love.

I take this to heart. Me, the mom perpetually in the minivan. Some days, my kids want to babble on so. I live in a world of noise.

But when I start to nod my head without hearing and insert appropriate “Mmmm—hmmmms” at well-timed pauses simply to pretend like I’m listening to them (while I secretly revel in my own private thoughts), I stop.

Now I choose to listen, choose to value who they are and what they have to say.

And I remind myself of this: Listening is an act of God’s love to me.

He doesn’t just ask me to give this gift to others. He gives it first.

I don’t always feel it, of course. Sometimes I push out those breathy prayers and feel like nothing is changing. He isn’t listening, isn’t understanding my need or even caring about my little self in my desperate situation.

Those prayers sure feel at times like they are hitting that proverbial ceiling.

The Psalmists understood.

David wrote,

“Hear my prayer, O God; listen to the words of my mouth“ (Psalm 54:2)

and

“To you, LORD, I call; you are my Rock, do not turn a deaf ear to me. For if you remain silent, I will be like those who go down to the pit” (Psalm 28:1).

Asaph prayed the same:

“God, do not remain silent; do not turn a deaf ear, do not stand aloof, O God” (Psalm 83:1).

That’s what we feel perhaps, and yet we’re assured that God hears our pure hearts when we pray.

God doesn’t tune us out or ignore us.

Psalm 10:17 says,

“Lord, you have heard the desire of the humble; You will strengthen their hearts. You will listen carefully” (HCSB).

He listens. Not distractedly, absentmindedly, or halfheartedly.

God listens “carefully” to the desire of the humble.

Indeed, the Psalmist could say, “You know what I long for, Lord; you hear my every sigh” (Psalm 38:9 NLT). Even when we can’t cram our needs and feelings into words, God hears the very longings of our heart and every sigh of our overwhelmed soul.

When Jesus stood outside of Lazarus’s tomb, surrounded by wailing mourners who blamed him for Lazarus’s death, He prayed with these words:

Then Jesus raised His eyes and said,

“Father, I thank You that You heard Me. I know that You always hear Me….” (John 1:1:41-42 HCSB).

Jesus prayed boldly on the basis of the promise of God’s character: He is the God who always hears us.

In Beth Moore’s book, The Beloved Disciple, she issues a prayer challenge:

Every time you pray for the next week, begin your prayer with Christ’s words straight out of John 11:42, “I know You always hear me.” Then conclude it with Christ’s words in John 11:41, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me.” Practice God’s presence! Pray as if He’s really listening because He is!”

This is my prayer practice this week, the way I am pursuing the presence of Christ through my prayer life.

Because God does hear us. We just need the reminder and reassurance at times. This great God, so Mighty, so Awesome, loves us and chooses to listen to us as an expression of that merciful love.

Originally published: February 24, 2014

Heather C. King – Room to Breathe

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

Tag: devotions for moms

That Time When She Ripped Me To Pieces on Facebook

“the fruit of the spirit is not a personality trait.”

No Christian is exempt from the biblical mandate of gentleness even when handling those with whom we disagree.

Facts About Mom

Why is it so hard to make the words, “I love you” ring truer and louder than the drill sergeant commands of everyday necessity?

Band-Aids Fix Everything

We worship Him as we lay ourselves down, offering our lives to others, burning up our selfishness on the altar.

When we love, we also need to take the time, to make the time, to thrust our hands into a hemorrhaging wound, if necessary, and become a right bloody mess in order to stop the bleeding out.

Yet, Jesus did more, sacrificing His life for ours, because he knew we needed radical intervention to save our dying selves.

Look at Me (The Teacher’s Mantra)

The Lord is your keeper.

The Resting Place

“This is the resting place, let the weary rest” (Isaiah 28:12).

My heart finds rest when it sinks into the rhythms of grace God has established.

If I do one thing as a mom, let it be this

Dear Daughter, When You’re Nine, Make It Count

We do excellence in this family, but we also do grace. We love each other through mistakes because we know mistakes are the price to pay for growth and learning.

Sometimes a Crock-Pot is Just a Crock-Pot (and other wisdom for the indecisive)

25 Bible Verses and a Prayer for the Thirsty Soul

Does God Listen When We Pray?

“the fruit of the spirit is not a personality trait.”

No Christian is exempt from the biblical mandate of gentleness even when handling those with whom we disagree.

My devotional for today:

Why is it so hard to make the words, “I love you” ring truer and louder than the drill sergeant commands of everyday necessity?

My devotional for today:

We worship Him as we lay ourselves down, offering our lives to others, burning up our selfishness on the altar.

When we love, we also need to take the time, to make the time, to thrust our hands into a hemorrhaging wound, if necessary, and become a right bloody mess in order to stop the bleeding out.

Yet, Jesus did more, sacrificing His life for ours, because he knew we needed radical intervention to save our dying selves.

My devotional for today:

The Lord is your keeper.

My devotional for today:

“This is the resting place, let the weary rest” (Isaiah 28:12).

My heart finds rest when it sinks into the rhythms of grace God has established.

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today:

We do excellence in this family, but we also do grace. We love each other through mistakes because we know mistakes are the price to pay for growth and learning.

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today: