I am not a Perfectionist….most of the time

December 1, 2014December 1, 20144 Comments

I’ve always said, “I’m not a perfectionist; I’m a pragmatist.”

My goal is usually to get things done. I’m willing to let some things go as long as I have a viable product by the deadline.

That’s what I say.

by daphoto, 123rf.com

Mostly, it’s true. Pragmatism trumps perfectionism for me in a million ways every single day.

But I stood there in a bustling classroom on Open House Night and realized that maybe perfectionism has been lurking its ugly head in my heart after all.

Turns out, you don’t have to be a perfectionist about everything to struggle with perfectionism in some things.

My stuff doesn’t need to be perfect, but I need to be perfect.

(And maybe I want my kids to be perfect, too.)

I chatted with my daughter’s teacher and loved her. She has this elegant air of grace and gentle wisdom.

But I’m nervous around teachers. They are like superheroes to this teacher’s pet of a neurotic straight-A student like me. So, I found myself just saying things without thinking.

She said she enjoyed teaching my girl.

I said something about my daughter enjoying the year so far, but how sometimes if she gets a B on a paper that’s still a little hard.

She said in the quietest of ways, “Really, I don’t see that about her at all. She seems to be so well-adjusted and not overwhelmed by things like that.”

Oh, right.

My daughter is the well-adjusted one.

It’s me with the problem. It took a near-stranger to see right through me and call out the ugly I’m still holding onto like a security blanket.

She didn’t realize it, of course. Yet, one simple conversation like that keeps nudging at my heart.

It turn out I have areas of my life where I accept imperfection and areas where I expect to meet impossible standards that set me up for failure and leave me desperate for grace.

You too?

Messy closets…..I can let that go.

Messing up with my kids, with my husband, with a friend…..unacceptable.

must

perfect.

Do not lose your patience.

Do not forget to sign the school agenda or the reading log or the quiz or the behavior sheet for any child.

Do not neglect or overlook anyone or anything.

Always say the right thing.

Always be there for everyone with wisdom and grace.

Yet, here’s the truth of the Gospel: Perfectionism keeps us from Christ. Jesus came for the imperfect.

Perfectionism feeds into that prideful self-righteousness that says I can be right without Jesus. I can be good enough. I don’t really need a Savior. Only sinners and mess-ups need rescue.

And while I say it: “I need Jesus,” what I really mean is: “I need Jesus in a thoroughly acceptable and comfortable good-Christian girl kind of way.”

That rich young ruler found Jesus walking along the road and knelt before Him. He made a show of humility: dropping his knee before a dust-covered-carpenter-turned-wandering-rabbi.

The man asked: “Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mark 10:17 NASB).

And when Christ listed off the commandments, the man said, “I have kept all these things from my youth up.” (Mark 10:20 NASB).

He’d spent his entire young life striving within himself to do and do and do the right thing, never breaking the rules, never faltering.

Yet, he still missed out on Jesus. He couldn’t give everything up to follow after Christ.

And that’s what Jesus wants, not perfect self-righteous rule-followers who focus so hard on taking the right steps that they never walk forward.

He just wants our heart.

I’ve spent this whole year pursuing the presence of Christ, and here I am in December: the month when I “Abandon Perfection.”

It’s fitting really.

Too often we stress over Christmas, the busyness, the rush, the show. We need to fulfill every tradition. Create beauty. Teach our children about Jesus and about giving.

Pinterest tells me I need to make Christmas ‘magic’ for my children.

Yet, too often we make Christmas about do and do and do.

What if this year we Abandon Perfection and simply make Christmas about giving Jesus our heart?

I want Jesus. I want His presence. And that means coming now, before I’m perfect. Coming as we are.

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast (Ephesians 2:8-9 ESV).

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

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.

Eat Cereal and Go to Disney?

October 10, 2014October 10, 2014Leave a comment

My daughter announced at the breakfast table that if we wanted to go to Disney World we all needed to eat a particular cereal.

“You want to go to Disney, right?”

She asked her five-year-old sister. Such an unfair question. Of course, the five-year-old nodded, ‘yes.’

“Then you need to eat this cereal, see?”

I peek over my shoulder to see what she found: a contest on the back of the cereal box. One grand prize winner. Yada yada yada.

Not exactly the reality she was trying to spin for her siblings: Eat this box of cereal = a free trip to Disney for the family.

But my children feel they have a deprived existence because:

(A) We do not own a dog.

(B) We have never been to Disney.

I promise her that I’ve entered plenty of Free Trip to Disney contests before yet I’ve still never been there. It’s because I never win anything.

(Well, once I won a drawing at the public library for the adult summer reading program. The nice librarian called and told me I had won and could come pick up my prize. I was ecstatic with joy. So much so that he felt the need to assure me that it was just a tiny little prize and not to expect anything big. He didn’t want me to be disappointed. It didn’t matter. I had WON something.)

But as I try to protect my dear daughter from the inevitable disappointment of finding that eating this particular cereal did not by default mean we’d be standing outside Cinderella’s castle next summer, I remember my prize from last week.

We made our annual family trek to the pumpkin patch. When I paid to get in, the nice lady at the farm handed me a jar of homemade pumpkin butter.

She said the first 25 families that visited the farm that day were receiving a gift.

We had won!

In fact, she didn’t have any more jars there on the shelf behind her, so I’m pretty sure we were number 25, making this all the more reason to celebrate.

And all I had to do was show up.

Oh, we love to complicate things don’t we?

I think how difficult I can make this sometimes, asking what I need to do to win God’s affection or attention and earn His favor.

I can know it in my head. It’s grace. It’s mercy. He doesn’t need me to perform elaborate rituals or scream and shout for the prize of His divine attention.

Still I forget.

I think surely I must have let Him down and disappointed Him or missed a step and messed things up along the way. Maybe He’d have blessed me, but I did something wrong and now He can’t. Or I made a wrong decision somewhere and stumbled out of His perfect plan for me.

It makes it seem so fickle. Like I’m playing some guessing game and the prize for guessing correctly is His favor and affection. But one wrong answer and I’m out.

Yet, James 4:8a says:

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.

Draw near.

I read about the resurrection appearance of Jesus, how He appeared first to Mary Magdaelene and then to the other women who had visited the tomb that morning.

In her devotional, Revealing Jesus, Darlene Zschech asks:

Why did Jesus appear first to two women? The answer is so simple. They were the ones who showed up first.

We won’t always get it right. Sometimes just ‘showing up’ begins with that first humble act of repentance, of praying in earnest that the Holy Spirit do His work, search our hearts, purify and refine.

But showing up also means just coming as we are. Not trying to figure out some complicated formula in order to gain admittance to see Jesus. We don’t have to delay coming to Him because we’re not ready yet or worry that He’ll send us back because we’re so unworthy.

We come.

We just. Come.

And we ask: Lord, I long for Your presence and I’m drawing near to You today. I’m resting here at Your feet and I’m desperate to spend time with You. Forgive me, cleanse me. Please draw near to me. ~Amen~

I like my marshmallows crispy (AKA burnt)

October 3, 2014October 3, 2014Leave a comment

She holds the marshmallow too close to the blue flame and it ignites. Then she blows with one puff of her cheeks and giggles at the sight of her charred and blackened puff of sugar on a stick.

I tease her that she burns them on purpose and she confesses as much: “I like them crispy.”

We’ve huddled around the tiny Sterno burner set in the middle of our kitchen table with long forks poked through marshmallows to roast them and make S’mores, a favorite treat.

On a night when we have time, when we miraculously aren’t scarfing down dinner and rushing into the car for an evening of dance classes followed by church activities, we like to roast the marshmallows over the flame.

photo courtesy of Viktor Janacek, picjumbo

Not living on a campground, however, we use the Sterno instead–filled with fuel that burns blue and purple when lit by my match.

When we’ve each charred our marshmallow and smashed it down on the milk chocolate with the two graham crackers, I smother the flame with the lid, blocking the fire from the necessary oxygen for burning and thriving.

And it dies.

Just sputters right out, so simply, so quickly, so inevitably… suffocation through lack of breath.

How breathless I’ve been.

The running, the pace, the schedule.

The remembering: appointments, agenda books, reading logs, library books, dance schedules, Bible verses, lunches, emails, jackets, reaching out to friends, counseling my children.

Trying not to forget the Holy Spirit words stuck to my fridge, my bathroom mirror, my car: Love is patient.

Remembering that, too.

It’s beauty day in and day out, watching these children grow, loving on them, learning from them. This is the blessing that makes me pause and whisper thanks to God.

It’s beauty to minister, beauty to serve, beauty to love others with God’s love and to give generously to them just as He has given generous heaps of mercy and grace to me.

Beauty takes sacrifice, though, it takes giving and giving and giving and sometimes I forget.

I forget that running breathless too long suffocates, cutting off the oxygen we need to survive.

How often we do this, too: Fueling our flames with our own resources, running our own self-provided fuel.

Then we run dry.

The prophet Zechariah teaches me this truth. He has a vision—-“a solid gold lampstand with a bowl at the top and seven lamps on it, with seven channels to the lamps. Also there are two olive trees by it, one on the right of the bowl and the other on its left” (Zechariah 4:1-6).

I rush past the words in my Bible, treating them like just another mysterious prophetic vision, obscure, and disconnected from my life.

But even Zechariah didn’t understand at first, and the angel has to explain:

“This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: ‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the Lord Almighty (Zechariah 4:6).

In the Our Daily Bread Bible, I read:

“The prophet saw two olive trees that supplied oil to a bowl that fed seven lamps on a golden lampstand. As we think about the reality behind this symbolism, we can be encouraged. You and I are not the source of light that enlightens the world. We can only receive the oil of the Holy Spirit that fuels the living flame He produces. If we burn steadily through the long, dark hours, it is because we have learned to yield our lives to the Spirit’s unlimited supply of power and strength. This comes only through continual fellowship with Jesus our Savior (p. 1018).

I sang this as a kid, a little sing-songy Sunday school tune: “Give me oil in my lamp, keep me burning…..”

It was catchy and cute then.

It’s breath in my lungs now.

Do you feel the grace here?

You and I don’t have to be enough, don’t have to keep ourselves going, keep up the pace, keep things together….we aren’t the source and the world doesn’t depend on us or rest all heavy and cumbersome on our wimpy shoulders.

We seek the oil of His Spirit poured into us and that is our Source, our Strength, our fuel that keeps on going and doesn’t run dry or sputter out or suffocate and die.

Not by my might (I’m so weak and helpless really).

Not by power (I tire easily and can’t keep all this together).

But by His Spirit.

Oh yes, Lord, fill us anew with Your Spirit.

Originally posted September 20, 2013

Dear daughter, what happened to the 90 pencils I already sent to school?

September 29, 2014Leave a comment

Seventy-two pencils.

That is how many pencils we carried into her classroom the last week of August.

We placed 72 yellow, No. 2 pencils into the communal pencil bin in the classroom where all the pencils go to be happily shared among the entire fourth grade classroom.

That’s how it really works. You don’t buy the supplies for your own child. You buy them for the classroom.

In years past, I didn’t know that top-secret information and I had foolishly assumed that when my kid needed a pencil, she would use one of the pencils I had sent in for her.

But now, armed with the full insider’s knowledge of a truly experienced Super Mom, I had stocked her own desk this year with about 15 or so pencils as a secret stash. These were the rainbow-colored, glittery, fancy pencils I had purchased special, just for her, unique, not-for-sharing.

Not only that, we had sat on the couch the day before and hand-sharpened that secret stash of super-cool pencils so that she wouldn’t be caught with an unsharpened pencil, thereby ensuring her success in fourth grade.

This is in addition to the 72 pencils we bought for the actual, official school supply list.

So, what is that? Something around 90 pencils placed in her classroom the week before school started.

Maybe that’s why I went a little Mom-crazy when she announced she didn’t have any pencils she could use just three weeks after school started.

This precious child climbed into the very back of the minivan after school and hollered up to me in the front, over top of the ambient noise of three other children, “Mom, do you think you can get me some mechanical pencils?”

Wait, what?

Didn’t I just buy you 72 pencils? And then another 15 or so on top of that? Hadn’t we both pre-sharpened pencils to put into your desk so you would have a supply of ready-to-use writing utensils? Hadn’t I ended up with blisters on my hands from said pencil sharpening?

What happened to the 90 pencils we’ve already sent?

Honey?

Dear?

Sweetie?

I ask her to explain the deep mysteries of this Bermuda Triangle of school supplies. How can 90 pencils go into the classroom and disappear within about 20 days of school?

Now, I am fully aware as I totally overreact in the driver’s seat of my minivan that I could purchase the requested mechanical pencils for her for about $2 at the Wal-Mart without any commentary about the injustice of the entire pencil supply situation.

However, I feel a Mom-Speech coming on and I feel powerless to stop it.

I mean, it’s the principle of the thing.

Can I get an Amen?

As I pepper her with questions, zinging them at her one after another, I think that I should have been a lawyer. My logic is impeccable. My persistence unmatched. My sense of justice praiseworthy.

I am on the roll of all rolls.

But I stop.

I suck in my breath.

I never meant this to turn into a cross-examination with my poor child on a witness stand defending her history of pencil use.

And yet it has.

So, the prosecution rests.

Later, she tells me that she has some of those pencils still in her desk, but they just don’t sharpen well. The lead continually breaks on her, even while she still has the sharpener in her hand. It takes so much time, she tells me. She thought some mechanical pencils will be easier.

I admit. They just don’t make pencils like they used to. These cheap pencils might look so glitzy on the outside, but that lead is always breaking and they never seem to sharpen just right.

I go to the store. I pay $2. I buy mechanical pencils with extra thick lead so they don’t break all the time.

I bring them home. She finds them on the counter after school and thanks me with a hug.

Mom crisis ended.

But I think…

How many of my mistakes as a mom and as a woman would be avoided if I responded instead of reacted?

Even if she was tossing those pencils into the trashcan and wasting them out of foolishness and irresponsibility, surely my best response would be quiet grace and gentle correction, not a tidal wave of Mom-justice.

He who has knowledge spares his words,
And a man of understanding is of a calm spirit (Proverbs 17:27 NKJV).

Less words….more understanding….more calm, that’s wisdom and wisdom is what I want.

Lord, help us to respond and not react. Help us to take time for wisdom-seeking and prayer instead of saying whatever comes into our head right away. Forgive us for the times we’ve hurt others with our words. May “the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight” (Psalm 19:14 NKJV). Amen.

Epic Failures; Epic Grace

August 13, 2014August 13, 20142 Comments

Mom Failures.

I’ve had them, had some doozies actually.

Anyone else?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You always….You never…..

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

You always make a mess of things.

You never get it right.

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

You’ll never be as good as she is…

God can’t use you.

Chris Tiegreen writes:

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

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

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

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

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

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

What grace is this?

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

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

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

Sometimes our own failure makes us most useful to God.

When we receive grace, we learn to give grace.

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

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

But the Psalmist wrote:

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

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

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

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

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

The Top 10 Best Things About Hotels (Says the Mom Away From Home)

July 25, 2014July 14, 2014Leave a comment

10. When there’s a problem, someone else has to fix it! No breaking out the tools when something is wrong. One word to a hotel staff member and within five minutes the handyman shows up with his own tool box.

9. How excited your kids get about every little thing: There’s a tiny refrigerator!! And a microwave!!! And a TV!!!! And a couch with a pull psalm39-6 -out bed!!! There’s a closet!!! And a bathroom!!! Everything is more exciting in a hotel room. Add in some luxuries like a hotel swimming pool, electronic key cards, and elevators with buttons to push, and you have kid-paradise.

8. Styrofoam cups with lids: Our hotel has a little hospitality bar in the lobby with packets of tea, hot cocoa, creamer, sugar and more. One night after swimming in the pool, I grabbed some hot chocolate packets as a treat for the girls. The best part? The cups they supplied came with plastic lids. Hot cocoa at home ALWAYS involves huge messes and near-industrial-sized spill clean-up. Why didn’t I think of travel mugs with lids long ago?

7. The Indoor Pool: We don’t the fanciest hotel with the most expensive amenities available; we just need access to an indoor pool. Happiest kids ever.

6. Short-Order Cook Breakfasts: At home, I sometimes feel like I should snap my hair into a bun, tuck a pencil behind my ear, don an apron and take down breakfast orders in a tiny notebook. At the hotel, we had buffet-style breakfasts where everyone found something yummy—well, except for the child who prefers breakfast at home with her favorite cereal every . . . . single . . . . day.

5. Someone else washes all the towels and sheets.

4. Someone else vacuums the floor.

3. Someone else washes the dishes.

2. Someone else scrubs the toilets. Sensing a trend here? I sure did. We’ve tried stay-cations before, but do you know what I still have to do then? That’s right—laundry, dishes, cooking, and general clean up. For a few days in the hotel, I picked up mess but never once pulled out the bleach or loaded a dishwasher or washing machine. Of course, we carried home a trash bag full of laundry that I washed the night we got home, but I had a few days of respite.

1. Being together: Our house is pretty small, so it’s not like we spread out and never see each other when we’re home. Still, there’s something special about experiencing time together without my husband heading off to work, propping up our feet and watching a movie together, making plans for the day, and sharing in a nighttime snack.

School starts up for the year far too soon. So does ballet, play practice, activities at church and more.

When life gets packed so full, it’s so hard to appreciate every little thing—like escalators and the electronic keys in hotels and cocoa cups with spill-proof lids. We lose child-like wonder and excitement about the little things

Almost ten years ago, I held my first baby girl in a hospital room and now, after what seems like a blink of the eyes, I’m about to send her off to fourth grade.

How does it all happen so fast? How do we miss so much?

In her book, A Sudden Glory, Sharon Jaynes says:

“The travesty is that we allow the busyness of life to crowd out the Source of life. As the Psalmist wrote, ‘We are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing’ (Psalm 39:6 NLT).”

All this month, I’m learning to Retreat and Refresh so I can pursue the presence of God. And I’m thinking of Moses, who prayed: “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12).

We can pray the same.

Lord, help us to number our days. Help us to make each one count. Don’t let a single one slip by us unnoticed and unappreciated.

Don’t let us ever miss or skip time—One, two . . . twenty . . .fifty–and not be able to account for the days in between.

Don’t let us get so wrapped up in doing laundry and dishes that we forget to thank you for the clothes and food you’ve given us.

Help us not to get so focused on the minutiae of everyday worries and stressors that we forget to have joy.

Show us how to slow down each day, rest, pay attention—yes, notice Your grace, Your beauty, and the gifts You’ve placed in our lives.

To sit with our children a moment longer. Linger over a cup of tea. Breathe in the scent of a garden. Notice the beauty. Enjoy deep down the laughter of our children.

Amen.

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Retreat and Refresh?

Originally posted August 31, 2012

It Would Be Easier if We Didn’t Have to Love Our Enemy

July 2, 2014July 1, 2014Leave a comment

My daughter was about 3-1/2 years old when she made this enemy.

After a week of summer dance camp, she declared that she absolutely did not want to take ballet in the fall.

Did she enjoy dance?

Yes.

Did she have fun at the camp?

Absolutely.

Did she want to try the dance classes?

No.

End of story. No explanation. I plied her with Mom-questions. She stuck to her decision without explanation.

In October, we sat together on one of the benches in the dance studio waiting room watching the tiny dancers file out after class. We picked up my oldest daughter and headed out the door. 1corinthians13, photo by Cora Miller

That’s when my girl said it: “I didn’t see Madelyn in the class.”

Madelyn? Who are you talking about?

Then she exploded with the report that Madelyn always wanted to sit on the triangle at dance camp even when other kids wanted to sit on the triangle and she wouldn’t let anyone else sit there no matter what.

She sucked in one big breath, harumphed, and tossed her arms criss-cross around her chest while stomping her feet for effect..

Well, babe, Madelyn was in dance camp, but she isn’t in the regular dance class.

“Oh.” Long pause while 3-1/2 year old process new information.

“Well, I want to take ballet then.”

All this time, territorial conflict with another preschool child had dominated her life choices.

Territorialism, jealousy, just plain old being annoyed with another person….it doesn’t get much easier handling all that mess as a grown-up.

We’ve all been there, forced into relationships with folks that drive us insane maybe with their negativity or pettiness or meanness, maybe insecurity, pride, constant bragging, insistence on arguing with everything you say, trying to compete with everything you do.

But I tell my girls this:

You don’t have to be best friends with mean kids, but you have to be kind and loving to everyone.

1 John 4:20 says it this way:

“If anyone says, ‘I love God’ yet hates his brother, is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother whom He has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen.”

I quote it at my kids, but taking it to heart? Practicing what I preach? That’s a little harder.

Sometimes I want to edit the command, soften it a little, make it fit a little more comfortably instead of stepping on my toes.

Maybe: “For anyone who does not love his brother….when his brother is a pretty nice person….cannot love God, but when his brother is annoying, a jerk, mean, or immature, then it’s fine not to love that guy.”

Of course, that’s not Jesus.

God is love, and Jesus showed that best by loving the unlovely, by loving the enemy.

So, I could pit myself against the ‘unlovable’ or I could choose Jesus and the discipline of kindness and sacrificial love.

It starts with prayer, but the temptation is there, too, to pray that God change them when what I need to pray is that God shows me His love for them.

Because maybe, just maybe, the person who needs changing is me.

Paul wrote this to the Thessalonian church:

constantly bearing in mind your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ in the presence of our God and Father (1 Thessalonians 1:3 NASB).

Love itself is part of the labor.

As Beth Moore says,

Sometimes loving comes easy. Other times it nearly kills us (Children of the Day).

This is at work and it’s at church. It’s with the annoying mom in the PTA and the gal who drives us crazy on the sidelines at soccer.

It’s in our own homes, too.

Sometimes love is hard. It’s labor and toil and discipline to believe the best, to serve and feel like you’ve given all and then given some more. It’s looking past imperfections and choosing to focus on the good and lovely and of good report (Philippians 4:8).

Love means choosing to give grace and forgive. It means not keeping score and a list of wrongs.

Love

….is

….patient (1 Corinthians 13).

I think of a favorite promise:

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns (Philippians 1:6 NLT).

God’s not finished with me yet and He won’t give up on me. I cling to that.

Yet, here’s the challenge, too: He hasn’t finished with others either. He hasn’t given up on them.

So, maybe I need to give them the space and the grace to let God continue that work because, after all, He’s given that space and grace to me.

In June, I took time for friendship and learned that God uses others to bring me into His presence, sometimes in unexpected ways and sometimes through unexpected people.

To read more about this 12-month journey of pursuing the presence of Christ, you can follow the links below! Won’t you join me this month as I ‘Invest in Friendship’?

VBS for Grown-ups: Even Though You Do Wrong…

June 26, 2014June 23, 2014Leave a comment

Vacation Bible School. That’s just for kids, right? Silly songs. Silly skits. Silly costumes. Kids stuff. Sure.

But is there any message in Scripture that God delivers just for people 12 and under? We older and ‘wiser’ ones sometimes make faith so complicated when the simple beauty of truth is what we really need.

This week, I’ll be singing songs and doing those silly skits from Group Publishing’s Weird Animals VBS at my own church.

Here on the blog, I’ll be sharing with you those same stories, the same lessons, the same truth, but for grown-ups.

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Some days, you must choose grace.

Not just to give, but to receive it, take it in, soak it up past the superficial skin and let it seep down deep into your soul, into the places of self-condemnation and records of wrongs and mistakes and imperfections.

Like yesterday.

It was a day of frustrating grocery shopping with lost coupons and a store that hadn’t stocked the chicken that I needed for almost a week’s worth of family meal planning.

And having to skip out on my exercise because I had to trek to a second grocery store to find said elusive chicken so I could feed my family more than one meal in the next seven days.

Then I finally unloaded it all at home, over-budget, discouraged, and frustrated with my non-exercising self for messing up my fitness plan.

As I sorted the groceries onto shelves and into drawers, I noticed the dirt in the corners of my kitchen floor, the apple juice splatters, the toothpaste in the bathroom sink, the laundry piled in the basket.

Wow, I just can’t ever keep this house clean enough.

And that writing project I planned for the day…didn’t get done.

My children had breakdowns, so did I, and there were the devotions I put off until 9:00 that night.

At the end of the evening, after dinner and bath time, and after my kids didn’t practice the piano, I read one chapter in a book to my daughters and sent them off for “independent reading” before lights out.

It had rumbled inside me bit by bit all day, but as we finished up that little bit of reading time together, my daughter reached over and turned down the corner the page to hold our place.

And I felt the full rush of failure.

I’m a page-turner-downer from way back. Despite a lovely, inspirational, unique and large collection of bookmarks, I fall back on a long-established bad habit: I just dog-ear my page and snap the book shut.

Unfortunately, it’s a bad habit I’ve unwittingly passed along to these daughters of mine. In fact, it’s so extreme they’ve even coined a term for it, transforming the word “chapter” into a verb.

“Mom, don’t close the book until we ‘chapter it!” they say and I dutifully slip the corner of the page down.

In that moment I thought: I’m passing along my bad habits to my children, handing them down like ill-fitting jeans and worn-out shoes.

Unfortunately, some of them aren’t as immaterial as dog-eared book pages–like stressing perfection too much, having too little patience with ourselves and others, and not accepting grace in the wake of messy failure.

Oh, how I recognize some of my kids’ hand-me-down perfectionism.

Don’t we all have days where it seems we meet with more failure than success? Where Satan can barrage us with reminders of the mistakes from long ago and the crazy mishaps of today.

Where every mom on Facebook seems to have it all together, gourmet meals for their family, a spit-n-shine house, Martha Stewart-like crafting ability, time to bake, snazzy Scrapbook pages, award-winning kids, and time for family service projects….”

Or maybe you feel it at your job or in your ministry or with your friends. What you should be doing. What you failed to do. What you said that was wrong. How you fall short. How you could be better.

The pressure of perfection is far too much for our imperfect selves tripping along in an imperfect world.

That’s why there’s grace.

Jesus looked at that thief on the cross and promised eternity in paradise right there at that first profession of faith. The thief didn’t earn it, didn’t have a lifetime of ministry credentials or a life heavy-laden with fruit.

Jesus forgave Him.

Period.

Sometimes we make grace so complicated. We think He forgives us when we prove we’re worth it or when we’re mostly getting things right.

But He knows our hearts. He knows our desire to please Him, our desire to be close to Him, and He knows sometimes we’ll still get it wrong. He died for us anyway. He forgives us anyway.

As John says:

This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.

Even though you do wrong, Jesus loves You.

So we must choose to receive the grace He offers, deciding it’s okay if we didn’t get it all perfect today and if our life got a little bit messy.

Doesn’t God love us?
Didn’t we try our best to walk in that love?

That’s the point and that’s enough.

Originally published November 2, 2012

VBS for grownups: Even though you’re different

June 24, 2014June 23, 2014Leave a comment

Vacation Bible School. That’s just for kids, right? Silly songs. Silly skits. Silly costumes. Kids stuff. Sure.

This week, I’ll be singing songs and doing those silly skits from Group Publishing’s Weird Animals VBS at my own church.

Here on the blog, I’ll be sharing with you those same stories, the same lessons, the same truth, but for grown-ups.

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Many years ago, I sat across from a ministry leader at a McDonald’s, having a deep life conversation while snacking on chicken nuggets. We had met that day because I wanted to talk to him about going deeper in ministry, feeling like I wanted to be ready for whatever God had planned for me to do. I wanted to be useful, effective, a vessel fit for God’s purposes, and I was looking for some guidance.

So, he leaned back for a minute and gave me his words of wisdom as my spiritual adviser.

“Heather, if you ever want to be effective in ministry, you’re going to need to be more like her.”

I sat stunned for a minute and thought about the implications. The girl he named was a perfectly good Christian, but she was my opposite in every way.

Not just some ways, mind you, but pretty much in any way it’s humanly possible to be different from someone else–that’s how different we were.

Extrovert versus introvert. Feeler versus thinker. Spontaneous versus super-organized-planner-with-three-calendars.

So, what exactly did it mean for this man to tell me I had to be like “her” in order to be effective in ministry? Did it mean that God couldn’t use me with the spiritual gifts I had?

Had God made a mistake when designing spiritual gifts, accidentally giving some people gifts like teaching and administration rather than gifting us all with mercy or serving?

Were introverts all God-mishaps who needed just to get it together and become extroverts in order to be used by God?

I wanted so much to be used by God, though, that I decided to become more like “her.”

And I made myself sick with the effort.

That’s what so often happens when we are pushed and yanked and smashed into positions we shouldn’t be in to become people we’re not called to be and forced to do what God didn’t design us or ask us to do. All that effort to be someone else can make us sick and stressed. It steals our ministry joy and stunts our growth and effectiveness.

Forced sameness crushes us and destroys the beauty of God’s design.

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do (Ephesians 2:10 NIV).

We are His handiwork, His masterpiece, His poem, and we are designed for His own purpose and plan.

Made just right.

Even when others don’t see that and they try to shove us into uniform boxes of acceptability and usefulness.

Even when we’re embarrassed by the differences and wish we could just fit into the same mold everyone else seems so comfortable in.

Even when we think He can’t possibly use us, because He only uses people like “her.”

Even though you’re different….Jesus loves you.

The Samaritan woman at the well needed this. She needed a Savior who saw beauty in unexpected places.

This Messiah, this Jewish teacher, sitting at the well in the heat of the day shouldn’t have been talking to a woman, much less a Samaritan woman.

More than that, she was a sinful woman who likely drew her water from the well at noon so she could avoid the jeers and stares of the town gossips.

Not only did Jesus break all the societal rules and talk with her, not only did Jesus love her, not only did He extend salvation to her, but He used her to share the Gospel with others.

That’s what she did. She dropped her water jar right there and ran to town saying, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” They came out of the town and made their way toward him (John 4:29-30 NIV).

She didn’t just find Jesus herself. She brought others to Him, a crowd of others, all of them needing a Savior.

Surely Jesus knew sitting down by that well that the best person to minister to that Samaritan town wasn’t a Jew, not a Pharisee, Sadducee or Rabbi.

He needed a Samaritan, one who had been drenched in grace until her parched soul just couldn’t stand to keep the Living Water all to herself. She had to spill out her joy so others could come see Jesus for themselves.

The disciples didn’t understand. She was….so different. So unexpected. So unlikely.

But God loves to use the weak, the small, the foolish, the most unexpected and unlikely of all because it’s never about us anyway. It’s always about Him.

VBS for Grown-Ups: Even When You’re Left Out….

June 23, 2014June 23, 2014Leave a comment

Vacation Bible School. That’s just for kids, right? Silly songs. Silly skits. Silly costumes. Kids stuff. Sure.

This week, I’ll be singing songs and doing those silly skits from Group Publishing’s Weird Animals VBS at my own church.

Here on the blog, I’ll be sharing with you those same stories, the same lessons, the same truth, but for grown-ups.

***************************************************************************************************************************

Who is like the Lord our God, the One who sits enthroned on high,
who stoops down to look on the heavens and the earth?He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap;
he seats them with princes, with the princes of his people (Psalm 113:5-8).

“Mom, can you tie my shoe?”

I kneel down, slightly off balance, and whip the laces into loops and knots.

“Mom, can you wash my hair?”

Bending over a daughter with her eyes pinched tightly shut, I scrub with shampoo and rinse away suds.

“Mom, can you show me how to play this on the piano?”

I stoop to press the keys, one hand pointing to the music, the other playing notes.

“Mom, can you hold my hand?”

Tilted to one side, I lean over to entwine our fingers and we swing our arms together.

“Mom, I’m hurt!”

Dropping to the ground, I clean the wound and press on the miraculously comforting Princess Band-Aid.

Life with children is a life bent low. It’s the ministry of kneeling down, stooping over, leaning, and bending to wipe, scrub, heal, hold, read, listen–to love. So often, it’s the movement down to hug a child and lift her up.

God bends low to reach His children, too.

He could have sat, poised on His righteous throne, holy and unresponsive to our need.

But He didn’t. Jesus Christ, our Savior, our Sacrifice, is the great Love of God bending low so He could raise us up.

And He continued that ministry. Finding Peter’s mother-in-law sick in bed with a fever, Jesus “bent over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her” (Luke 4:39).

Petitioned by a leper for healing, Jesus “reached out his hand and touched the man” (Luke 5:13).

Confronted by an angry mob gathering stones to throw at the adulterous woman, Jesus “stooped down and wrote on the ground” (John 8:8).

He could have stood at a distance. He had the power to heal with words alone, and sometimes He did.

These ten lepers, society’s outcasts, living away for so long from family, friends, faith, they didn’t even know they could come to Jesus. They knew the rules. Stay away from others. So, “they stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, ‘Jesus, Master, have pity on us!'” (Luke 17:12 NIV).

And He healed them with a word, just simple instructions.

But other times He chose to make it physical, and it so often required Him to bend low, to stoop, to reach out.

Jesus didn’t mind the mess. He touched the “unclean,” when it was against the rules for them to have contact with other humans for fear they’d stain the holiness of others.

Jesus got down in the dirt with people. And not just the high and mighty, the lofty, the righteous, the elite.

With the shunned, ignored, rejected. With the outcasts. With the unclean and the sin-stained.

With them.

With us.

Even now, He promises, “surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20 NIV).

If you feel left out…rejected…outside….outcast…shunned….dirty….not good enough, never good enough, never gonna be good enough…..

Drink in this truth:

Even when you’re left out, Jesus loves you.

God is not waiting for us to get cleaned up, to overcome, to fix it all up, to force holiness either. He isn’t put off by our faces smudged with dirt, our hands caked with mud, our fingernails lined with soil from trying to claw our way out of the pit we’re in.

Instead, David tells us:

“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand (Psalm 40:2).

You cannot be so deep in the darkness to be beyond His reach. You cannot be so covered in dirt that He’s scared away or disgusted.

God puts on His muddy boots, wades in and rescues us so that we can be with Him.

As Lysa TerKeurst writes:

We may be overlooked by others, but we are handpicked by God.

Originally posted May 11, 2012

Heather C. King – Room to Breathe

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

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