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

September 23, 2015September 22, 2015Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Follow these 10 steps to build your blog….

Follow these 12 sure-fire strategies to a best-selling book….

Follow these 5 tips on how to get a million followers on social media…..

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

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

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

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

I have one strategy for achieving that: Obedience.

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

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

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

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

Maybe he remembered what these deceptive tactics cost him.

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

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

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

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

Jacob wouldn’t budge, though.

See how God did that?

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

God just did it because He wanted to do it.

Beth Moore says,

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

What freedom is this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Live for Jesus.

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

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.

When They Cancel the Fireworks on July Fourth

July 8, 2015July 7, 20151 Comment

“This is the best July 4th ever.”

That’s what my five-year-old said when I served up red, white, and blue pancakes for breakfast.

And again when we made star-shaped sugar cookies and Jello in patriotic colors.

She announced it at lunch when I sliced up the watermelon, in triangles, per her request. No plain-old, everyday cubed watermelon. Triangles are what people had at picnics. They were exotic and special, making this the best July 4th ever.

She made her declaration when she had corn on the cob for dinner and when I popped popcorn to take with us to the fireworks.

We lugged our gear to the crowded beachfront and she said it again. Family time at the beach with her grandparents? Yup, the best July 4th ever.

And when the jellyfish stung her….

And even when the storm clouds showed up on the horizon and the news spread down the beach from family to family that the fireworks were canceled….it didn’t change a thing. Best July 4th ever. Even then.

She never waivered. Never gave up.

Her sisters were doubters and naysayers.

They whined about the fireworks as if one July 4th without seeing live fireworks somehow destroyed all of their childhood memories and traditions.

I stood on the sidewalk while the five-year-old on my left still said, “It was the best July 4th ever” and the child on my right announced it was the “Worst July 4th ever” and desperately searched for alternative fireworks options to redeem the night.

She wanted to take back control. You can’t control lightning and thunder showers, and that shocked her little system. July 4th had to happen a particular way. It had to include particular things.

And if it didn’t meet every expectation and check off every check box, than it was a big failure.

We stopped by the snow cone place on the way home for a final treat.

We cracked their glowsticks even if we weren’t sitting outside in the dark and my toddler giggled at the sight.

At home, we snuggled onto the couch and stayed up late watching the Washington, DC fireworks extravaganza on the TV, complete with cannon blasts and the 1812 Overture.

Maybe July 4th was different this year, but it was also beautiful and fun. Family memories and character-shaping happen most when life surprises you with the unexpected.

I told that to my kids as we finish up nighttime prayers.

You can’t always control every detail of life. Weather changes. Storms come. Plans get changed or maybe cancelled.

Don’t throw a tantrum of disappointment or get worked up in a frenzy of effort trying to salvage the day.

Take a cue from their little sister, who celebrated the beautiful and the extraordinary all day long.

They nod their heads a bit and confess that it really was a great day.

I don’t know if the lesson sinks in, maybe it’s one you learn for a long time, maybe it’s one I’m still learning myself.

This…..this right here….the day you are living right this moment….could be the best day ever. All it may take is some watermelon slices or some food coloring in pancake batter–and the joy of a five-year-old determined to celebrate.

How we deal with the unexpected, the surprises, the changes in our plans and the disappointments is one of the truest, most essential things about us and the greatest commentary on our faith.

This week, I read my youngest daughter a devotional about disappointed disciples, those who turned away from Jesus because His teaching was hard. It required so much. It shocked their system and they just couldn’t keep following Jesus when He didn’t meet all of their expectations.

So, Jesus asked the remaining followers, “You do not want to go away also, do you?” (John 6:67 ESV).

That’s when Peter said it:

“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have words of eternal life. We have believed and have come to know that You are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:68-69 ESV).

To whom shall we go?

Only Jesus has what we really need.

Maybe our plans don’t work out the way we hoped.

We planned for fireworks and then it rained on our little parade of expectations.

Maybe what Jesus asks us to do is hard.

Maybe we’re straining to see the beauty in what God is doing right here and now.

So, we press in and we press on. We don’t abandon Jesus and look for answers somewhere else like those followers who left Him. We lean on Him all the more.

He is the help we need, no matter what we face. He is how we have joy and hope in every situation.

But it requires a letting go….and letting God.

And it requires a certain kind of faith, the joy-filled kind, the kind that rejoices in all that God is doing and all that God has done, and the kind that holds on tight and absolutely refuses to let go even when the hardest of times come.

This is the day the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it
Psalm 118:24

When the tiger piece doesn’t fit in the tiger space

July 3, 2015July 3, 20151 Comment

My son drops the tiger-shaped piece onto the tiger-shaped space, but it doesn’t slip in easily. It’s askew, just a bit.

He snatches the piece up and tries again. Puzzle piece into the puzzle….almost. It’s slightly off again.

Bang! Slam! Bang! Slam!

Subtlety isn’t his strong suit, apparently.

Over and over he tries. He knows exactly how this puzzle should look in the end, how it will all fit together.

But it just….won’t…..go……in.

Finally, I cradle his hand with my own, helping him shift the piece, wiggle it a bit, shimmy it around until it can fit right into the puzzle with ease.

He protests with some rising pride and unwillingness to be helped: “I can do it myself.”

But I insist. I show him how to do it because he can’t do it on his own, not this time. Next time, maybe. With practice, yes. With the skills I’ll show him, absolutely.

His resistance is familiar. “I’ll do it myself.”

Sometimes I don’t even recognize my own little prideful tantrums and uprisings, my insistence that I do it myself, and if I just work at something long enough, maybe I’ll figure it out.

But this is what I do.

Last week, I wrestled in the night with a ‘problem.’

I felt like God was asking me to do something. But if I did this, then that would happen and what about this possibility and that issue? It was a train reaction of complications all initiated by my own act of obedience.

So, I lie there in bed in the middle of the night, slamming that puzzle piece down onto the board.

Slam!

What if I did this instead?

Bang!

What if I asked her to do this?

Slam!

What if we tried it this way?

Bang!

What would happen….?

Nothing fit. I failed and failed and failed.

Finally, I stopped shoving, and straining, and making all this effort to work this out on my own and I prayed:

“God, this is not my problem. It’s Your problem. If You want me to do this, You’ll need to make a way for me to do this. It’s got to be You. All You. Only You. I just need to get out of the way and leave this in Your hands.”

Nothing has happened yet. I’m still waiting.

I keep praying about it, of course, but I’m refusing to hunt for the fix or the solution any longer. I’m just praying, “God, take care of this, please” and then moving along with my day.

This is hard.

My mind keeps slipping into the old habit, turning that problem over and over and looking for the new angle that will make everything fit.

But I think of Mary….

At the wedding at Cana, Jesus’ mother saw the problem.

No more wine for the wedding guests. Social faux pax! Party disaster!

She could have brainstormed solutions and considered all the posibilities. She could have calmed down the hostess and offered strategies and fixes.

But instead, she brought the matter to Jesus, telling Him simply, ““They have no wine” (John 2:3 ESV).

Not, “They have no wine; please make them some wine from water.”

Not, “They have no wine; please miraculously keep everyone’s glasses full.”

She just told Jesus the facts of the situation: Here’s the problem.

And then she left it there with confidence, telling the servants: “Do whatever he tells you” (John 2:5 ESV).

Who knows what she expected in that moment? What possibilities had she considered? What solution did she have in mind?

We just know that she trusted the Savior to handle the problems she faced, every detail of them,

It’s not easy, releasing that control, opening up those hands and letting the problem fall at the feet of Jesus instead of clutching it tightly to our chest.

But it pushes us into expectancy.

We hold our breath and open ours wide and we just can’t wait to see what God will do.

God, I have no idea how to fix this.

The problem is too big.

I am too small.

Nothing I’ve thought of is the right answer. Nothing I could do would make this right.

But You are bigger and more powerful and more creative than anything or anyone.

So, it’s up to You. I thank You in advance. And, I sit back and watch to see You at work. It’s going to be quite a display of Your glory.

~Amen~

When I Don’t Get My Way

June 24, 2015June 19, 2015Leave a comment

My one girl gets grumpy.

I arrive to pick her up at the end of an activity and I find her huddled on the floor, back turned to the crowd, face hidden on her knees or maybe she’s hiding under a table or in the back of a bathroom stall.

She’s not screaming or crying, but she’s definitely pouting.

With arms crossed, with feet stomping, with loud harumphs for emphasis at the end of her sentences, she tells me the crisis: Others disagreed, someone else wanted the same thing, another person got to go first, that person got something better.

But this is the bottom line: She didn’t get her way.

And now, she’s grumpy.

I understand. I can be grumpy when I don’t get my way, too, wanting to sit out and let everybody know that I disagree with the decision and I’m sure not happy about it.

Another of my girls argues her case when she doesn’t get her way. She argues….and argues….and argues her point until you’re knocked over by the powerful wave of her emotions and opinions.

And I understand this. When I don’t get my way, I want to form protest marches and fight, fight, fight, too! Instantly I think of who I can rally to “my side” and how I can convince others that my way is the right way, the best way, the only way.

Maybe if I just give the best speech, argue the best (or loudest, or longest, or most convincingly), use the best evidence and form the largest coalition I’ll win the day after all.

And my youngest girl simply cries over disappointment, not a temperamental tantrum on the scale of the hurricane tantrums we’ve seen in this family. More like the desperately sad wail of a child who realizes the world doesn’t revolve around her…doesn’t always do what she wants or turn out the way she expects.

That’s a lesson that always stings painful and I’ve mourned myself with frustrated hurt that the world doesn’t bend to my whim or orbit around my convenience or comfort.

I don’t always get my way.

And, selfish creature that I am, I sometimes react all ugly.

Yet, while faith allows us to stand up for what is right and to speak truth in love, it demands something else.

Faith means trusting God even when things don’t go our way, when plans don’t work out, when others make decisions we disagree with, when life isn’t perfect or even when life is hard and obstacles loom large and hope doesn’t come easy.

Believing in God’s providential care isn’t faith until we’re blinded by circumstances and still trust.

Hebrews 11:1 tells us this:

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

Faith: That’s when we can’t see the end, can’t see how God could possibly work this out for our blessing and benefit, can’t imagine what God could possibly do to make this better much less make this the best.

But we trust Him anyway.

Faith means resting in the knowledge of God’s power over everything we face, even when our senses and circumstances tell us that people are in control, not God.

It seems like we rely on a boss, or a leader, or a committee chairman, or a judge, or someone in human resources ….but faith declares that it’s God, always God, only God who directs our lives.

God is my Good Shepherd, trustworthy, wise, caring, knowing, powerful. I read the familiar promises:

God, my Shepherd! I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
when you walk by my side (Psalm 23 MSG).

Yes, God my Shepherd leads me to places of rest and sustenance, providing what I need, sending me in the right direction, walking by my side even in the shadowy depths of the valley.

And my response can be fighting or pouting…but all my grumpiness, my protesting, my tears reveal where I’m not trusting God’s ability to control the tiniest detail of my life in His hands.

Isaiah tells me,

In repentance and rest is your salvation
in quietness and trust is your strength… (Isaiah 30:15)

Enough of the ugly reactions, the crisis, the conflict. Better to seek my God—-what now, Lord? What is your will here in this place? What will you have me do and how would You have me respond?

I choose resting in Him.

I choose a quieted heart.

I choose trust.

I choose Faith.

Originally posted August 16, 2013

Made it to Mt. Everest and back (AKA finished the school year)

June 10, 2015June 8, 20154 Comments

Most moms cry on the first day of school.

They watch their babies step onto that big yellow bus, faking smiles and putting on excitement for the sake of their children. Then that bus pulls away and they pull out the tissues.

Not me.

I cry on the last day of school.

It’s hard to explain really. I want my kids home and I long for summer all year. I’ve never been one to celebrate with a mani/pedi that first day of school in September as if I’ve re-asserted my freedom from the constraints of children.

I cannot wait for summer to begin.

But somehow that last day of school for me is like the emotional upheaval of making it to the top of Mt. Everest and back.

We did it.

We survived.

Not just dragged our tired behinds across the finish line, either. We had a great year and I’m so proud of these girls and all they’ve learned and how they’ve grown.

They. Rocked. It.

Now they bring home broken crayons, used gluesticks and a pile of awards and certificates and I just pray with this gratitude that spills out in those pesky tears like an emotional dam bursts and I’m just gushing:

Thank You, Lord. You answered my prayers. You gave them great teachers. You gave them success and helped them shine. You guided them through a million tiny and seemingly not-so-tiny decisions and worries.

You brought us right on through and onto the other side and I am just so thankful.

Exhausted.

But thankful.

I’ll cry a bit. And then maybe I’ll flop right down on this new shore and take a nap because this momma is plumb wore out.

There were times that I thought I could not make it if one more child brought home an unexpected project for school.

Could.

Not.

And I’ve discovered that I really do have a “look” that I flash whenever my child brings home a handwritten note in her best cursive writing asking for a playdate this Saturday when we have 12 other activities already on the weekend agenda.

But here we are. The last day of school.

The last….day…..

I wonder how the disciples felt climbing out of that storm-tossed boat after fighting for their lives and stumbling in their faith right before the calm.

Did they crawl out of that fishing vessel, soaking wet, panting, dragging out one limb at a time and then stretch themselves out in the sand until they could catch their breath?

Or did they hop out of there totally unflustered, like they hadn’t been screaming for rescue just moments before?

Something tells me they didn’t just shrug that typhoon off and move along.

Maybe they took the time to cry and thank God for salvation.

Like me today.

I knew we’d make it, though. At times it felt like I was hanging on for dear life, but I knew He is faithful.

God’s grace does that. It holds us up and carries us on, and our calling is never too much for Him to handle.

Too much for us? All the time.

Too much for Him? Not for a second.

So we throw the full weight of our survival onto Him, casting those cares over and over onto shoulders strong enough to carry them.

We trust in His promise.

Those storm-weary disciples could have done this.

Jesus didn’t invite them out for a pleasure cruise that day. He didn’t tell them, “Get in the boat so we can sail around for a bit and maybe catch some fish.”

He gave them a promise of destination:

Now it happened, on a certain day, that He got into a boat with His disciples. And He said to them, “Let us cross over to the other side of the lake.” And they launched out. Luke 8:22 NKJV

Jesus never abandons us halfway. If He makes a promise, we know He won’t abandon us in the boat. He’ll take us to the other side.

So the storm rages. So your boat groans and creaks. So those around you start scrambling into life vests, preparing to abandon ship.

Just hold on.

God has promised to take you to the other side. He is faithful and He will do it.

Originally posted June 11, 2014

You can stop trying so hard

April 3, 2015April 3, 20154 Comments

It started with a road trip.

Our intention had been to make the 3-hour drive as a family, but a stomach virus incapacitated 3 of my 4 children, so it was just mom and daughter in a minivan for hours.

We had plenty of time to talk about life, love, growing up and superior travel snacks (AKA Twizzlers).

On the way home, we stopped to get her a hamburger. My daughter looked at the 16-year-old-ish girl at the drive-thru window and asked, “Mom, did you work or have a job as a teenager?”

She’s 10. She’s thinking ahead. This is a good thing.

I tell her how I volunteered at my local library for years, babysat, and then my first real job was working as a legal assistant at a law firm.

“WHOA.” She stops with her hamburger halfway to her mouth.

“How was that your first job? You mean you didn’t work at a McDonald’s or anything?”

Yes, how did that happen?

Was it my eye-catching resume, my extraordinary job interviewing skills, or some career-launching internship that I had snagged in middle school?

Nope.

I tell her:

“It was God. I just worked hard at whatever God gave me to do and then He opened up new opportunities.”

Be faithful with what you’re doing right now and leave the future to Him.

That’s what I tell her.

I’m a striver.

I’m a do everything you’re supposed to do and more, work until you collapse from exhaustion, pack every day totally full and then spill the to-do list over onto the next day—kind of person.

As a mom, I fight Pinterest-depression because of everything a good mom is “supposed” to be doing.

As a writer, I’m supposed to Tweet and Facebook post hourly, pin on Pinterest 3 times a day, read 5 or so blog posts every morning and comment to them, write my own blog post every day, guest post to other blogs, send query letters and book proposals out monthly, write articles, write books, attend writer’s conferences, and read and study enough to make sure I have something worth saying.

But I fail.

My house is not organized.

I lose my temper with my kids at times.

I let my kids play outside some days instead of making them practice the piano.

I do not schedule enough play dates.

I occasionally forget to sign my kids’ agenda for school (shocker!)

I am sometimes too-much-mom and not-enough-wife.

And as a writer, well, let’s just say Twitter and I aren’t the best of friends.

So I’m talking with my daughter in the minivan about my first job, using the moment to teach her, but I’m also speaking truth to my own weary heart.

You don’t have to be a striver.

God doesn’t ask you or expect you to do everything.

He asks that we faithfully do what He’s called us to do. Just that.

When we pack extra burdens down onto our shoulders of ‘must-do’s,’ should-do’s’ and ‘have-to’s,’ we collapse under the weight.

I’ve spread out face down at God’s feet before and said exactly what those exhausted disciples said:

“We worked hard all night…and we caught nothing” Luke 5:5

They had stayed up all night fishing, working hard with nothing to show for it. Their fishing expedition was a capital-F Failure.

Their nets weren’t faulty. Their boat wasn’t to blame. They had the necessary skills. The location was fine.

They did what they were ‘supposed’ to do.

They had slaved away trying to force success and make something happen, all in their own effort, trusting in their own skill, know-how and sweat.

In the morning when Jesus told them to go put out those same nets off the side of that same boat, they probably blinked tired eyes in disbelief.

But Peter promised to obey:

“You say to put the nets in the water, so I will” (Luke 5:5).

God brings abundance when we bring obedience.

They didn’t have to fish all night. They only needed to fish when and where Jesus said. That’s when He loaded them down with enough fish to snap their nets.

That Psalm we always go to that says, “Be still and know that I am God…” Here it is in the NASB:

Cease striving and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth” (Psalm 46:10).

Cease striving.

He’s going to be exalted.

Not because we worked hard to exalt Him.

Because He is God.

What has God called you to do today?

Do that. Put your whole heart into it. Be faithful and passionate and focused. Be obedient.

Trust Him with the future and stop trying so hard.

Dear Son, Let Me Explain How Shape Sorters Work

March 4, 2015March 4, 2015Leave a comment

Dear Son,

Let me explain how shape sorters work.

The circle shape only fits in the circle hole.

You can’t cram it or squeeze it into the square. You can’t bang repeatedly, slamming that circle down until it finally fits into the triangle.

The circle block really and truly does only fit through the circle hole.

Sad, perhaps, but nonetheless true.

I know you think we’re foolish about this, that maybe we parents just don’t know all there is to know about shape sorters.

Maybe that’s why when we tried to point out to you the circle hole, you scowled and screamed.

Or when we set an example for you, modeling how easily that circle slid into the circle hole, you threw the block.

Or when we tried to gently move your hand to the correct space, you pulled your hand back, cried and cried and insisted on continuing your attack on the square hole with the circle.

Baby boy, here’s the lesson now and, oh, how much frustration and anger, disappointment and failure it will save you later if you learn this right here: Mom and Dad really know best most of the time.

Even more than that, it’s wise to seek advice and counsel. When you’re learning something new, ask the experts.

Sure you can stamp your feet in stubborn pride and insist on your own way.

But fifteen minutes and a full-blown tantrum later, you’ll still be holding a circle block in your hand that doesn’t fit through the square hole.

When you don’t know what to do or how to do it, stop plowing on ahead in bull-headed determination to do it your own way.

Ask God.

Ask Him.

James 1:5 says:

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you (NIV).

Did you see the promise in the verse? God isn’t stingy about wisdom.

He’s generous.

You ask Him what to do and He will respond with abundance.

And, He’s not up there criticizing your request or complaining about coming to your rescue….again…..won’t this guy every learn? Sigh. Tsk….tsk….tsk…..what a disappointment.

No, God gives generously to all “without finding fault.”

Sometimes we forget to ask. We think this is a no-brainer, an easy decision and one we can surely handle on our own.

Or maybe we don’t ask because we know what He’ll say. We know the advice we’ll receive isn’t really what we want to hear.

So, we avoid asking.

We avoid wisdom.

Because then we’d have to listen and then it would come straight down to what it’s really all about anyway: Obedience. Submission. Faith.

Surrender.

Giving in and giving up and giving it all over to the only One who truly knows what’s best.

David knew better.

Max Lucado writes:

The first time he faced the Philistines in the wilderness, David ‘inquired of the Lord’ (23:2). When he felt small against his enemy, ‘David inquired of the Lord” (23:4) When attacked by the Amalekites, ‘David inquired of the Lord” (30:8). Puzzled about what to do after the death of Saul, ‘David inquired of the Lord’ (2 Samuel 2:1). When crowned as king and pursued by the Philistines, ‘David inquired of the Lord” (5:19). David defeated them, yet they mounted another attack, so ‘David inquired of the Lord” (5:23). David kept God’s number on speed dial. (Facing Your Giants)

It was David’s go-to method. Ask God. Then listen. And obey.

But there’s a moment in David’s life when he didn’t pause to call 1-800-ASK-LORD.

He was so overwhelmed by Saul’s relentless attempts to murder him, that he:

“said in his heart, ‘Now I shall perish one day by the hand of Saul. There is nothing better for me than that I should escape to the land of the Philistines. Then Saul will despair of seeking me any longer within the borders of Israel, and I shall escape out of his hand.”

He asked himself. He decided in his own heart what was best. He looked around, considered the circumstances and thought, ‘there is nothing better for me than this….”

Maybe God really had a much better plan. Maybe God could have protected and preserved David without the mess that awaited him in the land of the Philistines.

Never for a moment think you’re wise enough or strong enough to decide what’s best for your life without first asking God.

Never for a moment think that your plan and your way and your desire for your own life is better than God’s plan and His ways and His purpose for you.

Never for a moment yank your hand back from God’s guidance.

He sees the big picture. He knows: Here is the circle…..here is where it goes. Trust me.

Love,

Mom

“The One who laid earth’s foundations and settled its dimensions knows where the lines are drawn. He gives all the light we need for trust and for obedience” (Elisabeth Elliot, Through Gates of Splendor)

Praying What You Really Don’t Want to Pray

February 20, 2015January 4, 20161 Comment

Afraid.

Sometimes I’m afraid to pray those ‘dangerous’ prayers even when I know deep-down that’s what I should pray for.

But it’s like giving God permission to interrupt my life, letting Him move on into my heart and mind with cleaning supplies and uncover all the dirt I’ve hidden away.

So, I sat there holding the prayer card, debating whether to write the truth down.

I’ve been making these prayer cards for my family, friends and others I pray for. I have a card for my husband, for each of my children, one for the unsaved, one for church and another for Bible study, and a card for me.

The cards are growing over time. I scribble down my requests for my kids and then the next day I find the perfect verse to pray, so I jot it down on the back of this 3 x 5 white index card with a Sharpie marker.

I’m not writing the little requests that change day-to-day: a fever, a bruise, a big math test.

These are the prayers about character and life, big decisions,using their gifts for God’s glory, spiritual growth and their future.

For each child, I know what I need to pray. One needs to grow in forgiveness. Another in self-discipline and overcoming fear. Another in being teachable and accepting grace.

But I pause, my hand hovering over the card.

Do I write down’forgiveness?’ What if God allows my daughter to be hurt because of my prayer? What if He allows pain so deep that she has to fight through bitterness to choose to forgive?

What about “teachable?” Do I dare write that down? What if God humbles my daughter through excruciating failure, brokenness, and the lessons of humility?

We Christians have joked about it so often, “Don’t pray for patience!!!” That’s what we remind each other and then we laugh in agreement because, truth is, God has taught us all some of those painful lessons in patience.

And we didn’t like them.

So, we’re afraid to pray.

Yes, I am afraid to pray, too.

I know why. It’s a trust thing. I’m not believing the best about God.

The truth is that God won’t bruise or break if a gentle lesson, a sweet whisper could change our hearts.

He never answers our prayers for patience with trials just because He’s mean like that. Or He likes to hurt us. Or He can’t come up with another way to teach us.

If I pray for my daughters to grow in these areas, I can trust Him to teach them in the best way, the perfect lessons at the perfect timing, and if their hearts are yielded and moldable clay, He’ll use the gentlest touch to fix the imperfections He finds.

And the truth is that if it’s breaking we need, He’ll allow the brokenness so that He can reshape us and form us into something beautiful: into the image of His Son.

But even then, I can trust His hand. I can trust His love for us and the grace He pours out and the way He never gives up.

As I read in Genesis, I think how Jacob must have been so afraid. I recognize it now as I look at him: one fear-filled human looking into the heart of another fear-filled human.

Jacob lost his son Joseph. So, when his remaining sons trekked off to Egypt for food during an intense famine, he had one demand: They had to leave his youngest son, Benjamin, behind. He couldn’t lose another son. Not ever again.

It seemed to work at first. The boys brought home grain from Egypt and the youngest son stayed home.

But the food ran out again and Joseph had made it clear—-no younger brother in Egypt, no more food.

Jacob either needed to trust God or his whole family would starve.

And God let Jacob reach the very end of all his resources so that Jacob would finally let go of control and send all his sons back to Egypt, Benjamin included (Genesis 43).

This was God at work.

Jacob was terrified, but God was in this. He was working for the reconciliation of Jacob’s family and the preservation of the entire nation of Israel.

But as long as Jacob held on tight to control, not wanting the possibility of pain, he missed out on God’s best.

We can trust God with our hearts, with our lives, with our children, with our marriages. We can trust Him with all of it.

So, I write down those prayer requests on the prayer cards and I entrust my children to His care. I tell Him that I’m afraid. I tell Him the truth about what’s in my heart.

But I trust Him and I let go.

Want to learn how to pray with prayer cards? I first read about them in Paul Miller’s book, A Praying Life.

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer and worship leader. Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness. Her upcoming book, Ask Me Anything, Lord: Opening Our Hearts to God’s Questions, is available now! To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

If I Put a Spoon Under My Pillow, Will It Snow?

January 30, 2015January 29, 2015Leave a comment

“This is it.”

My kids are desperate for snow. More specifically, they are desperate for a snow day.

Apparently, so are their teachers.

In early January, the tiniest picture of a snowflake appeared on my weather forecast. The details said wintry mix overnight, no accumulation, yada yada yada, blah blah blah.

My kindergartner arrived home from school that day with specific instructions from her teachers.

Place a spoon under your pillow.

Wear your pajamas inside out.

Flush an ice cube down the toilet.

Her older sister calls out, “And do a snow dance! You have to do the snow dance.”

It was simple math to them. Do this + this +this + this = guaranteed snow day.

It did not snow.

This week, snow was again in the forecast. My Facebook filled with chatter and pictures of weather maps all foretelling the great snowstorm of 2015.

It snow-dusted, just enough to turn the world a little white. Not enough to cover the grass even. Not enough to delay anything, much less close it down.

I don’t mind really. I enjoy snow well enough, but only when it’s outside and I’m inside with a book and a cup of cocoa.

But my kids mind. A lot. They are Virginia girls, desperate for at least a few sizable snowfalls a season.

Every single time there is a whisper of a snowflake or two falling in the night, our town is abuzz, the Wal-Mart shelves clear out of milk and bread, and my children brace themselves for a real and true snow day.

“This is it.” That’s what they think.

Maybe Joseph felt the same way.

All those years, he waited and waited, holding on perhaps to a distant memory of those visions from God of his family bowing down to him.

He waited in a pit while his brothers plotted his death, and then settled for selling him into slavery.

He waited as an Egyptian slave, working faithfully and with integrity for his master.

He waited when he was falsely accused and thrown into an Egyptian jail.

So many times, he might have thought, “This is it. This is my big moment of rescue and redemption!!”

But it wasn’t.

There was the night in the Egyptian prison when Pharaoh’s cupbearer and baker came to Joseph with dreams they couldn’t understand. Joseph interpreted the dreams, but then asked for help, saying to the cupbearer:

But when all goes well for you, remember that I was with you. Please show kindness to me by mentioning me to Pharaoh, and get me out of this prison. ¹⁵For I was kidnapped from the land of the Hebrews, and even here I have done nothing that they should put me in the dungeon (Genesis 40:14-15 HCSB).”

This is it.

That’s what Joseph thought. “Here’s my chance!”

Then the cupbearer forgot about Joseph for another two years.

Waiting is hard enough. But getting your hopes up and then discovering disappointment, is even harder.

Joseph could have given up. Maybe he did.

Years later, though, that cupbearer finally did remember Joseph. And, perhaps when Joseph least expected it, God came through.

In God’s perfect timing. In God’s perfect way. God came through.

Had the cupbearer remembered Joseph years before like he had promised, Joseph might have made it out of prison. Maybe. Perhaps. We’re not really sure. Pharaoh could have just dismissed the cupbearer’s story as little more than a novelty.

But in this precise moment, the Pharaoh needed someone to interpret his dream, and Joseph was the one to do it.

Interpreting that cupbearer’s dream had seemed like a wasted opportunity, yet years later that is what God used to rescue Joseph from prison.

What we do today might not seem to matter, but God doesn’t waste our faithfulness.

His timing is precise and perfect, even when it doesn’t feel like it in the moment, even when disappointment presses in, and even when the waiting feels like it can collapse your heart.

We can’t place our hope in circumstances or people like a forgetful cupbearer.

We can’t always decipher God’s plans and predict when “this” really is it.

We can’t make it snow despite all of our snow dances and inside-out-pajamas.

We can, however, live God-glorifying lives day-in and day-out, being faithful even to the most mundane tasks that earn us no worldly recognition or honor.

Our hope, after all, isn’t in circumstances or people or ‘connections’ or our own abilities. They will take us on an endless emotional roller-coaster of misplaced expectations and inevitable disappointment.

Our hope, though, can be rock solid, unshakeable and steadfast when we place it in Him and Him alone.

“Rest in God alone, my soul, for my hope comes from Him” (Psalm 62:5 HCSB).

Why won’t anyone sit in the back of the minivan?

January 28, 2015January 28, 20154 Comments

The middle seat in our minivan is prime vehicular real estate.

My daughters make mad dashes to the minivan in order to hop in that prize seat first. No one, after all, wants to sit in the back.

And, nothing gets these girls ready to rumble like one sister hogging middle seat privileges. They have some sort of tracking sense, a radar for what’s “fair” or “unfair.”

Their memory tangles up with rhetoric. I don’t think they really keep accurate records of seating assignments every time we drive in the minivan, but somehow they sound like they are testifying in a court of law:

“I have not gotten to ride in the middle seat for one whole week! You have had 6 turns more than me and now you cannot sit in the middle seat again until I have gotten to sit there 6 times.”

There are tears and the occasional meltdown. Sister pits herself against sister. They take sides and form alliances to gang up on the offending sibling and rain down minivan justice.

Let’s be honest. It’s a whole ugly mess sometimes.

And maybe the ugly comes out in us some days, too, as we fearfully try to scramble into the ‘best place’ or grab our own chance at God’s favor and blessing.

I’m not exactly sure how Abraham did it, but I want to learn from him how to stop fretting over my position and start rejoicing in my relationship with Christ.

He and his nephew Lot stood high enough to overlook the land. Their employees had been fighting. Abraham and Lot were both too wealthy to travel together any longer. They needed separate space and well-defined territory.

So, there they stood, preparing to divvy it all up: “This is mine. That is yours.”

Abraham let Lot choose first.

Maybe I’d be a mess of worries and desperation in that moment, wanting to protect my blessing, hope, and future. I’d probably be praying under my breath: “Please don’t choose the best spot. Please don’t choose the best spot.”

Or, at the most, I’d offer to flip a coin to make the whole process more fair.

But Abraham trusted.

Abraham knew that nothing Lot did in that moment could hinder, interrupt or destroy God’s perfect plan for his life.

He didn’t have to push or shove his way to the front of any line. He didn’t have to fight or rumble in order to stake out prime territory. He didn’t grab for the ‘biggest slice of the pie’ or scramble ahead of everyone to try to ‘get the best seat.’

Maybe we’re worried about that sometimes. We see the blessings of God as if there’s a limited supply. If He blesses her, then that leaves less blessing for me.

Or maybe this world seems like such a noisy place and social media has only turned up the volume. Sometimes it feels like we need to shout in order to be heard.

But I want to be Abraham.

I want to trust God enough not to fret or worry over territorial choices or the fear that someone will end up with a better plot of land or a greater blessing.

I want to be able to extend my hand and say, “You first…..”

I want to stop pushing and striving to get ahead and simply trust God to take me where He wants me to go.

Lot chose the best looking land, of course. He snatched up the prime real estate in a selfish effort to look out for himself.

He couldn’t see the corruption and enmity and culture of sin that ruled the land he was choosing: Sodom and Gomorrah.

Sometimes, the blessing we’re so sure we want is the worst possible future God could give us.

He sees. He knows. He loves us. Sometimes loving us means telling us “no” in the moment.

We can trust Him.

Instead, the Psalmist said,

He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me (Psalm 18:19 NIV).

When we trust Him, He delights in us indeed.

When we choose humility over pride, He sees and takes joy.

He will bring us to that spacious place, and it will be perfect, just right, hand-picked and God-designed for you.

Heather C. King – Room to Breathe

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

Tag: trusting God

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

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

I have one strategy for achieving that: Obedience.

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

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

Live for Jesus.

When They Cancel the Fireworks on July Fourth

How we deal with the unexpected, the surprises, the changes in our plans and the disappointments is one of the truest, most essential things about us and the greatest commentary on our faith.

When the tiger piece doesn’t fit in the tiger space

When I Don’t Get My Way

Made it to Mt. Everest and back (AKA finished the school year)

You can stop trying so hard

God brings abundance when we bring obedience.

Cease striving.

What has God called you to do today?

Dear Son, Let Me Explain How Shape Sorters Work

Ask God.

Ask Him.

He’s generous.

“The One who laid earth’s foundations and settled its dimensions knows where the lines are drawn. He gives all the light we need for trust and for obedience” (Elisabeth Elliot, Through Gates of Splendor)

Praying What You Really Don’t Want to Pray

Want to learn how to pray with prayer cards? I first read about them in Paul Miller’s book, A Praying Life.

If I Put a Spoon Under My Pillow, Will It Snow?

Why won’t anyone sit in the back of the minivan?

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

I have one strategy for achieving that: Obedience.

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

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

Live for Jesus.

My devotional for today:

How we deal with the unexpected, the surprises, the changes in our plans and the disappointments is one of the truest, most essential things about us and the greatest commentary on our faith.

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today:

God brings abundance when we bring obedience.

Cease striving.

What has God called you to do today?

My devotional for today:

Ask God.

Ask Him.

He’s generous.

“The One who laid earth’s foundations and settled its dimensions knows where the lines are drawn. He gives all the light we need for trust and for obedience” (Elisabeth Elliot, Through Gates of Splendor)

My devotional for today:

Want to learn how to pray with prayer cards? I first read about them in Paul Miller’s book, A Praying Life.

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today:

My devotional for today: