Today is the 16th anniversary of the September 11th attacks and the 16th anniversary of my first shift as a registered nurse. I think its fitting that today is my first day of "class" in my online RN to BSN program at Grand Canyon University.
I completed my virtual classroom with my university counselor, Simon, and finished my first online assignment and bio. Day one of going back to school as a 43 year old- done.
I listened to a podcast while doing dishes today (yes, we wash our dishes by hand) where the podcasters speculated about how a day a work in their individual careers would be different if it was 1985. I don't know that I wish 1985 back, but I do feel more comfortable with a manual, real-paper-book, life than I do with the online, technology driven life. Getting online with my school counselor to do a virtual tour of my "classroom" had me feeling like... a 40 something year old college student. I'm excited to learn, but I admit I'm intimidated by the technology. Next: Learn Powerpoint.
Got a voicemail from an FFA student in Globe, AZ who asked her FFA group could market my soap for a agri-business marketing project. I've also had several people email, text and message me asking what soap I have available. I haven't made a batch of soap in several months. I want to make soap. I like it that people benefit from and enjoy my soap. But I feel like making soap and selling soap right now is distraction from the direction I'm going right now, which is pursuing a higher degree in nursing.
Going back to school, having people inquiring about my soap, having people at work encouraging me to promote into a leadership position, having two sons in the throes of puberty, having a troubled marriage (which is currently better than it has ever been), having a church family (finally!) that I've committed to investing myself in... all of these have me seeking God for what it looks like for me to run the race set before me, eyes fixed on Jesus.
The school, soap and work could drop off the planet for me right now. They're not eternally important. But the sons, and the husband and the people I'm getting know and serve at church, they are. When I think about my "race"- the life God has set before me to run by faith, I don't think about school or soap or work very much (although I do think about my witness as a Christian in those arenas of my life). What I do think about is the people I live with everyday and the people throughout history and geographically who will be my family eternally. The desire for those to be one group is a burden I take to the only One who can transfer anyone from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of his Son.
And the Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will. - 2 Timothy 2:24-26
I'm a generation X-er. The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, and the Shock and Awe headlines of March 2003, are the acts of war I remember. And as close to home as the 9/11 attacks and the war in Iraq and Afghanistan have been to me, no one close to me has lost their life in the battles of the past 16 years. Memorial Day could easily become the symbolic start of summer for me and nothing more. But I'm a mom of teenage boys, and I hear the news headlines and appreciate American history and the value of human life too much to let that happen.
For me, remembering those who have lost their lives serving in the military means intentionally remembering when I don't remember. It means purposefully reflecting on what it means to me that I live in a country where over a million people have given their lives in combat.
My 12 and 14 year old sons know war mostly in terms of first person shooter games (something I'd rather they never knew). They hear headlines and know the story of 9/11. For them, the history of war is glamorized.
My point is, neither I nor my sons know the impact of loosing someone we love to war. So I decided to have the boys use Google to calculate the combat deaths from every U.S. military conflict. Once they added all those lives up, they had come up with 1,243,493 sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers given for us.
We never knew one of them.
Their lives and deaths weren't glamorous. They weren't perfect. They weren't Marvel comic heroes. But they put themselves in harms way in the moment they lost their lives on a mission to protect this country from the evils of foreign oppression and dictators. Without them, the country my sons and I live in may not exist. Both they and I need to take the time to remember those we don't remember so we can foster gratitude and soberness and thoughtfulness about this country and our roles here.
I asked my boys to write either a poem or essay... some sort of reflection on the 1,243,493 souls who gave their lives in military combat for the freedom of citizens of the United States.
Connor, my 14 year old wrote an essay, "Why These Lives Matter To Us." Ryland an acrostic using the words MEMORIAL DAY. Me, a blog. Our stopping to think and reflect on these lives with our words is important. It's a way to honor the ones remembered. Even when we don't remember.
As a Christian, my ultimate homeland is not the United States of America, but I want to be a blessing to her and honor those who laid down their lives for sojourning Americans like me. I also want to be a sober minded, serving citizen and a mom who passes thoughtfulness and gratitude and the gift of remembering on to her kids.
How are you intentionally remembering the 1,243,493 today?
Yesterday being Mother's Day, me being a mom and a having a mom and knowing moms and women who long to be moms and/or grieve the loss of their children, it was a day full of thoughts turned prayers.
Yesterday also being the last Sunday in a series on marriage at my church, and me being married and knowing firsthand the unique kinds of trials marriage brings, it was a day of reflection turned worship.
About a week ago I read Psalm 27 and it grabbed me. I've been mulling it over ever since. One particular verse has me thinking about my one thing.
One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple.
What's the one thing I am asking God for and seeking after? One thing. Mostly its been for my marriage. Or my kids. The two things yesterday hit on. When I read Psalm 27 I hear the writer exclaiming that in the midst of fearful troubles and rejections, his one thing was a triune request: To be in God's presence all his life, to see the beauty of God and to be able to talk with God and may requests of him. If I'm honest at first reading I feel like that's just out of reach. How can I say my one thing is all about God when my kids are struggling and I'm exhausted and my marriage is so troubled? How could the Psalmist say this when danger and fears and rejection by his own parents surrounded him?
As I listened yesterday to the preaching of the message that God has ransomed us from slavery to sin and idolatry, like Hosea ransomed Gomer, the mental image of the Son of God crying out, "I buy you back! I buy you with my own life!" while I was shamefully sold-out to sin flashed through my mind. I heard 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, "Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body."
And then Psalm 27 started making more sense. There's only one thing I really need in the midst of fears and suffering: Christ. If he didn't buy me back to God I would never be able to run to him as a refuge. I wouldn't be able be in his presence daily or see his endless beauty or talk with him and seek his answer.
In the midst of parenting trials and marriage troubles, where fears and the pain of betrayal and rejection and sins threaten to destroy, the one thing I need more than anything is Christ. And when I lift my eyes off this storm around me and believe the promise that he his with me, and dwell on the beauty of his glory, and seek his face and his counsel, everything is set right. The storm may rage, but with the psalmist I can say:
I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!
I read a post of Facebook the other day where a mom was telling her adult kids what she really wanted for Mother's Day. In short: Time with them. I agree. Being a mom myself I feel the exact same way. But since we're far apart and don't spend as much time together as we both would like as moms, I wanted to take a minute to tell you, and the world just a few of the reasons I'm so thankful that God made you my mom.
#1 Your songs.
Now that I'm a grown up and have spent years pursuing my own walk with the God of the Bible, I realize there are a lot of messages I swallowed growing up that weren't so Biblical. Some things taught as truth were just misunderstood. Some were mis-taught. Enter grace. And hymns. No matter what I learned about God and life that wasn't so right growing up, what I learned right I heard in your singing. When you sang the words, "I need thee every hour..." you taught me dependence upon the grace found in Christ. When you cried out in song around the house, "Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, help me stand." You taught me to cry to God and not pout to myself. When I heard you worship at bedtime, "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me..." You taught me to awe at the salvation found in Jesus. Your singing planted truth in my soul mom. And now it has sprouted and grown into it's very own tree, planted by the same streams of water out of which my soul sings with you, "And he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own. And the joy we share as we tarry there. None other, has ever known."
#2 Your brokenness
Mom, honestly I used to wish you weren't broken. I used to wish, with you, we had a neat, tidy, healthy family. I wanted a yellow house with a picket fence, two happy healthy parents and siblings who got along too. Who doesn't want that? But brokenness has come upon us all. Even those I thought had that picture perfect family. And it's through the brokenness in your life that I have learned to see God's miraculous way of making beauty out of ashes. I used to be angry with God for the brokenness I saw everywhere and in my own life. But the beautiful masterpiece God paints by taking the very cracked up thoughts and emotions, bodies and relationships we all live with everyday and out of them painting a whole new Christ-imaging life makes the beauty of that Norman Rockwell life I had in my head look like a 5 year old's water color. God has painted Christ-exalting majesty and glory out of your broken life mom. Christ in you is beautiful! Through you Christ has shown himself to me as the Great Physician who has come not for the well, but the sick, like me. Through you, he has made me to know him as the great bearer of burdens. Because you have turned to Him, time and time again, I have learned to see myself and others as broken people in desperate need of the love of Christ.
#3 Your creativity
Paper dolls cut out of any piece of cardboard or paper on hand. Marbles and Jax. Stories that should be written down and printed as captivating children's books. Biscuits to die for. Your interest in our lives and your creativity and handiwork drew us as children to you. Your creative, happy, liveliness was Jesus in you causing the little children to come to him. And he is still at work in you drawing your grandchildren. God has given you the gift of touching the hearts of young children mom. Your love of life and interest in investing in the young souls around you has forever changed the course of many lives for God's glory.
#4 Your diversity
In a small town where everyone was a shade of pale and most people spoke red-neck English, you were a wise woman with a world-wide awareness and a vision for honoring the diversity of God's people in every tongue, tribe and nation. Before we could even speak, you were hanging cut out magazine images of babies with different skin-tones on the wall next to our crib. When Cabbage-Patch dolls were all the rage, you bought your white, freckle-faced children black Cabbage-Patch dolls. When people of darker pigment came into our our town and didn't speak much English, you welcomed them into our home and learned to make tortillas from scratch with them. In a culture that was ignorant to it's xenophobia, you were planting the truth that in God's world there are peoples of all cultures, pigments and languages. And that's a beautiful thing!
A Woman To Be Praised!
That's only four reasons out of many for why I thank God every day that he made you my mom! I celebrate you mom. I want to pass onto my children the gifts you've given me. Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman like you mom, who is in awe of Christ Jesus our Lord, is worthy to be praised for generations to come! May God bless the work of your hands mom!
I'm sitting her in my PJ's in a quiet house, waiting for my oatmeal to finish cooking. I pull up my Bible app on my phone and read the verse of the day:
Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation.- Psalm 68:19
I chuckle and sigh. Daily bears us up. I had just been bemoaning the daily bearing up tasks of being a mom and wife secretly in my heart. Opening the fridge, taking mental note that there's nothing to make for dinner and I'll need to go to the store. And we're out of eggs. And the kids will be up soon and so will begin the grumbling and moaning I'll get to hear as soon as the call for morning chores is given. And I need to get pellets for the animals. And plan for someone to do the morning chores and milking while I'm gone next week. And I need to make more soap and advertise it and post lotion for sale in the online store. And I need to contact local retailers about carrying our soaps in their stores. And I'll be going to part-time soon and that'll leave one more day a week for... for... for daily bearing up the needs of the household.
I sigh for a minute. It's a blessing that I'm treating like a burden. But no doubt, it is a burden. It's a burden that has to be born up. Carried. But it's a burden with blessing built in because it's a burden that in it's very nature shares the likeness of God in it. It's a fellowship of bearing up that I get to share with the Living God everyday!
I am no savior. I do not save my family. I save no one. But I get to let the beauty of what God does shine through my life in walking with him under the load of bearing up. And all the while I point to him as salvation. He is my salvation. He's why I can bear the burden of the needs of this family with delight in the gift it is to get to do it.
It only begins to feel like a tax on me for one reason: sin. The sins of my husband and children make it painful and draining sometimes to bear the needs of this family. And my own sinful grumbling and lack of faith cause me to feel the unbearable weight of this calling. But when I see through eyes of faith, that I join God in the way of bearing up the needs of others, I feel empowered.
God is using my life to show his way among the nations. Even the Dougals. I tremble. What a high and wonderful call. I don't need to break the glass ceiling or prove my equality in power with anyone. I know who I am. And Whose I am. And where I'm going. I can bend down and bear today's burden. Because I'm His daughter. And that's what He's doing.
I broke the normal Sunday night routine of dishes, laundry and dispatching children to the shower to get ready for work and school on Monday to come sit out on the patio and think, which means write, for a bit.
I'm really bummed about how Sunday's have turned out for me and my family.
This summer it will have been 2 years (I think) since my church peacefully parted ways. Our small number of families set out to find a new church family and our pastor followed the call on his life to teach... all over the world.
Between baseball tournaments for Connor and my work schedule, I have been at church maybe 2 Sunday's a month at most. When I do go, it's not always at the same place. We just haven't settled anywhere.
I want to find a church with a Saturday or midweek worship so that if baseball or my work schedule don't allow us to go on Sunday we still have a chance to meet.
This weekend was one of those weekends when neither Saturday nor Sunday would have worked for church since Connor had a tournament that extended into the evening Saturday and took up the morning on Sunday. And it's nearly unheard of to have a Sunday evening service anymore. I miss that. Growing up we were at church Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday night. Not that that makes you special or a better person, but it's just so refreshing to pause from the business of daily life to have dedicated times (multiple times, not 1 hour on Sunday morning) when you can go hear the preaching of God's word and join with others in worship. I miss it. A lot.
We have fun baby goats running and jumping around out there in the goat yard. Six in total. Five are bucklings (male goats). And a lone baby girl (doeling). We'll keep the doeling. All the bucklings will be wethered (castrated) and sold. I wanted to try raising some of the boys for meat, but I'm having a really hard time thinking about actually carrying that plan out. And my macho-man husband isn't helping. When I told him my idea about raising them until 8 months of age and then having them butchered, he protested. He can't handle the idea of eating something he watched grow in our backyard. That's the whole point actually... to know where your food comes from and that it was raised in an ethical and healthy way. But it is hard. I think I could go through with it, as long as I don't have to do the killing (and I won't), but I'm still undecided. I'll probably put them up for sale, knowing they'll be somebody's barbecue, and if the don't sell, I'll destine them for the freezer in 8 months. I'll probably have to schedule that freezer day on a day when my husband's at work... he'll have no idea when dinner's served.
Goats Make Soap Co. had our last booth at the Momma's Organic Farmer's Market at Parkwest in Peoria yesterday. We were invited to be regular's next year. I don't know what we're going to do over the summer. We've developed a regular customer base, and for now we are able (just barely) to keep up with the demand for our soaps and lotions. Time is the issue. Working full-time, raising sons, married life, goat farming... our days are full. We're discussing making a formal business plan. We're also planning to approach Trader Joe's, Whole Foods, Tractor Supply and Ace Hardware about become a vendor so that our soaps will be stocked in their stores... at least in Arizona. That's a HUGE deal. Only because I have no idea how it works and I'm confident it'll require equipment to make much larger batches of soap and packaging that's suitable for store shelves. We'll make the plans. The Lord will direct the steps.
Connor has taken his first paying job as a farm-hand for a neighbor to do evening farm chores once a week. She has twice as many goats as we do and a much more extensive (and beautiful) homestead going on. I'm really proud of him. The foundation is starting to get a frame. The ditch I started digging when he was a baby is starting to take form. I've been raising a man, not a boy these 13 years. I pray with even more desperation and fervency for the next 13. Unless the Lord builds the house, the laborers labor in vain.
I posted a little blurb on Facebook this morning regarding my disappointing Mother's Day and shared the priceless card my 11 year old son gave me this morning.
He didn't write it after feeling bad about yesterday. I hadn't laid into him or his brother for the grief they gave me yesterday. He simply ran into the card he had made at school, probably at the prompting of his teacher, while cleaning out his binder in getting ready for today's school day. It wasn't a Hallmark moment. It was a, "Oh, yeah, mom, here. I forgot to give this to you yesterday," moment as he rushed downstairs to play for a few minutes before school.
His words on the card are priceless. The flowers he drew I'm sure came out of a desire to give me something he knew I really wanted. (He's a great artist and draws great war scenes and I'm always asking him to draw me something nice for a change, like flowers. His response is usually, "Mom! Boys don't draw flowers!") I'll treasure the card as long as I live and my boys will continue to be my heart walking around outside my body. But the most priceless thing about yesterday and this morning was not the card or the Happy Mother's Day sentiments. The reality check I got this morning while reading my Bible was the most satisfying treasure of all!
"Arise, O Lord!... Deliver my soul... from men of the world whose portion is in this life. You fill their womb with treasure, they are satisfied with children, and they leave their abundance to their infants. As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness, when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness." - excerpts from Psalm 17:13,14,15
Psalm 127 says:
Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward.
God gives children. They are a treasure. They are a gift from God to be embraced as blessings and riches. So what's with Psalm 17?
As much as children are a treasure from the womb and gift from God, they cannot satisfy the mom, or dad, who has been awakened to the treasure of Christ and being made like him.
It is a total gift to be a mom. It is one of my greatest joys. But it is also a source of great sorrow, probably one of the greatest sorrows. And I'm glad. I'm glad there are disappointing Mother's Days and half-hearted givings of sentimental words. (Not that my son's words were half-hearted. I believe they were very sincere.) I'm glad because the painful things of motherhood give me pause. They cause me to stop and think, "Am I merely a woman of the world, satisfied with children? Or am I a woman of God, thankful for children, treasuring them as a gift and a stewardship, but satisfied only in the glorious promise of seeing my Lord face to face... and not in shame and fear, but in righteousness? To actually possess Christ's righteousness. To really be like Him! Then, oh then. Then and only then will I be fully satisfied.
Motherhood is an opportunity to taste and see that the LORD, not just having children, is good.
May our children see that our hope for satisfaction is in Christ and not feel the unbearable weight of having to be our satisfaction. May they look to us as we look to Christ.
Moses in his mothers arms' by Simeon Solomon (1840-1905)
What do you do as a mom when you know your child grows up under the influence of authorities in their life who dishonor God and His Word? Who mock the Christ and the whole concept of sin and the need for a Savior? Who think of the Bible as old, out-of-date stories? Who offer the short-lived pleasures of this world as the ultimate pursuit of your child's life over and against the foolish call of Christ to deny yourself, take up your cross daily and follow Him to a kingdom that they cannot see where true riches and never-ending pleasures abide in uninhibited relationship with the Living God?
I look to a woman named Jochabed.
The nearly 4000 year old story of Moses is not only a pivotal story in the history of the people of Israel, it's also the heroic story of a mom who put her hope for her son in the Living God and whose influence, no doubt, was God's means of grace to plant faith in Moses.
We only get a few short verses about Jochabed's influence on Moses. But we get a thousand upon thousand year old legacy of faith in Christ because of her faith.
By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter,
choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin.
He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. - Hebrews 11:24-26
Mary Elizabeth Baxter (a Christian woman long gone to glory) wrote a commentary on Jochabed that I find tremendously encouraging. Here is an excerpt:
Christian mother, does your home influence counteract the sin, the untruth, the impurity, the hollowness of the world, so that your son finds the home life a haven of rest from temptation and shame?
Is there so much of God in your life that it more than outweighs other influences which surround him? Blessed mother, if it is so!
Pharaoh's daughter said to Jochebed: "Take this child away and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages." (Exd 2:9.)
This is the last we hear of Jochebed, Moses' mother.
THE RESULT OF HER LIFE's WORK was the man Moses.
The true mother lives again in her son. There is the answer to her prayers; there is the result of her watchfulness; there is the true correction of her own faults reproduced in her son. Moses might never have been the man he was had it not been for Jochebed.
Who knows how many a leader of God's people may be at the present time in course of training by some pious mother? Who knows but that the little James or John or William, who is playing with the kitten on the hearth, may some day become a man to whom hundreds or thousands may look for help and direction?
Oh let every mother who reads these pages understand her vocation when a higher than Pharaoh's daughter says to her: "Take this child and nurse it for Me, and I will give thee thy wages."
But the wages of Jochebed were not to be given by the princes of this world. To be the mother of a Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face, like whom there arose not since in Israel (Deu 34:10): this was an honour which none but God could give.
I often get discouraged. Almost to the point of giving up... whatever that would look like. I guess every paralyzation of indifference or hopelessness that I choose is a giving up of sorts. I let the lie that my influence means nothing, even more, that God's word and grace is not powerful enough and God's Sovereign goodness is not really sovereign or good, numb me into just sitting there rather than saying something.
There was a time when they nursed at my spiritual breast. There was a time when I had a captive and eager audience of two boys under 5 who fed on the truth with gladness. But that season of nursing is passed. Now they are in Pharoah's house. Now they have the opulence of the world at their fingertips and the temporary pleasures of sin to worship the false gods of this age with.
But I remember Jochabed. I remember the God of Jochabed. My God- the God who purposed Moses' life even when it was full of the fleeting pleasures of sin and the treasures of Egypt.
I often wonder how Jochabed endured those years in Egypt, knowing her son was gaining rank in the house of the ruler who enslaved her and her people. Surely it was painfully difficult to go about the laborious tasks of slavery knowing that her son was enjoying riches, entertainment and power in a house which attributed all it's power and riches to false gods. I wonder if she thought there was no way her son Moses would remember all that she taught him at her breast. I wonder if she seriously doubted that he would ever turn his back on Pharaoh's gods to worship the God of his enslaved kin. There must have been years of tight-throated, eyes-burning-with-tears prayers and pleas to the God of Joseph to not forget her son and let him rot in the riches of Egypt.
Even in this season, hard as it is to endure, I know my God is able to take what was (and is) planted in my sons, my ongoing prayers (feeble as they may be) and the faith (microscopic as it is) that He has given me, and make all that tempt to ensnare my boys serve the purpose of bringing them to the place where, they too, can choose the reproach of Christ as greater wealth over all that gleams and glitters (and becomes enslaving chains) in this world. And if, when, they do that, it will be a miracle! No one chooses the reproach of Christ over the fleeting pleasures of sin and the wealth of this world without a miracle!
Oh God of Jochabed! God of Moses! God over Pharaoh! My God! You who rule the universe. You who do not let a single sparrow fall from the sky without your okay. You who designed motherhood and know the heartache of sons and daughters who leave your goodness to go after the cotton-candy rot of the world. You who gave me sons and a heart to know you. You who used my sin to bring me to the knowledge of my need for a Savior. You who called me out of darkness into your wonderful light, who brought me from death to life despite my angst towards you and my wandering from you, who gave me taste buds to taste your goodness when I was intoxicated with the poison of the pleasures of sin. Oh merciful God who loves and is just and poured out all judgement against sin on your only Son to save us from what we could never endure. Hear my prayers for my sons. Let no one keep them from coming to their Savior. Give them the faith to choose the joy of You over all this world has to offer. Give me the faith to stand when I want to lay down; to believe when I'm mocked. May Christ be magnified in me! Let my life bring you glory!
Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands! - Psalm 90:17
I woke up this morning like most mornings- morose, fighting depressing, fatalistic thoughts. Not hopeful. Not joyful. Not positive.
I don't say this because I'm looking for pity or to be a downer. I say it because I'm a mom who writes a blog in a world full of mom-blogs with pretty pictures and chic designs and humorous and/or wise posts. And I've been there and done that so I'm not judging my fellow mom bloggers either. I like pretty blog templates, and flawless pictures of homemade things and happy children. I enjoy a well-rounded devotional and even poetic meditations. But as much as we all enjoy those things, most of us don't have a life that's really like that.
Most of us wake up fighting discouraging thoughts or stress or anxieties of some kind in a house with piles of laundry unfinished, beds unmade, dried toothpaste and discarded pocket contents on the counter. Most of us walk out of our rooms to wake up kids who manage to argue with each other and create tears and yelling before 5 minutes of their day has passed. Most of us walk away from such scenes seeking refuge in a cup of coffee in a kitchen where the dishes aren't done from yesterday… or the day before that. Most of us see clutter as we turn 360 from any position in our house and fight the lie that if things were just clean and organized and a nice candle was burning and the kids were laughing and… we'd be so much happier.
I'm learning I can either be real about my life and receive with thankfulness the grace that is creating a new, glorious reality for me everyday, looking for every evidence of the gifts of such grace even in this fallen place, or I can sink down into a pit of depression and "give up". Even worse, I can stick my head in the sand mom-blog world and pretend my life is pretty and organized and godly and smells like a Yankee candle, and spin my wheels trying to convince myself and others that I actually live such a Pinterestic life.
I don't live a Pinterestic life. But I do live a life alive in Christ's blood-bought grace. It's a messy life. It's a life full of weakness and evidences of fallenness. It's a life of fighting giants and exposing lies. It's a life in the process of being transformed by a scandalous love.
As the holiday season is upon us, and so are all things picture-perfect and aromatic, let us make the ravishing beauty of Christ our boast and humbly receive with thanks every grace, every hint of his beauty and his order and his goodness we get to see and experience here in the midst of all our mess. And let us be real with each other, and help each other fight giants and bear burdens and look up and be eternally-minded.
WARNING: HEAVY POST! I have to get some things off my chest.
"Hezekiah the son of Ahaz, king of Judah, began to reign. He was twenty-five years old when he began to reign, and he reigned twenty-nine years in Jerusalem. His mother's name was Abi the daughter of Zehariah. And he did what was right in the eyes of the LORD." - 2 Kings 18:2
"Manasseh was twelve years old when he began to reign, and he reigned fifty-five years in Jerusalem. His mother's name was Hephzibah. And he did what was evil in the sight of the LORD..." -2 Kings 21:1-2
"Josiah was eight years old when he began to reign, and he reigned thirty-one years in Jerusalem. His mother's name was Jedidah... And he did what was right in the eyes of the LORD..." -2 Kings 22:1-2
A mother can change the course of an entire nation. A mother is one of the most powerful and influential people in the world! And all power is given, and taken, from Almighty God. What a high and amazing calling we've been given as servants of Christ to be mothers!
Maybe one of the greatest lies of feminism is that motherhood is slavery or drudgery or a waste of talent and power. Mothers stand in a position of power at least as great as kings and presidents... they are the molders of kings and presidents. Not that these verses are about mothers. And not that mothers are to be worshipped (feminism can swing the other way too). God saw fit to include the names of the mothers of some kings who effected radical change on their nation for good or evil. If He saw fit to include it, I think I should pay attention.
Each child is responsible for their own actions before God alone, and his mother is responsible for her actions in molding the future leader of a nation before God alone.
I hate pornography! It's a drug more powerful and more destructive than cocaine and heroin combined! Apart from the moral putridness of it, this science should be enough to cause alarm for us residents of a pornified culture. If I could champion a social cause, the obliteration of pornography would be one of them! Hezekiah removed similar "high places" in his day. Maybe God would raise up a son of this mere momma to do the same! It's poison that has personally damaged my psyche and the psyche of many.
You know it's funny to me how we are. Actually it's not funny at all, it's a horror!
I love Christ's righteousness and I hate man's. You know why? Christ's righteousness is unchanging! It's solid. You know what's right. It doesn't change and have a 5000 page legal-lingo code full of loop-holes to describe it. Christ's righteousness is pure! It's totally free of perversion or filth. It doesn't say something is evil for you, but for me it's ok as long as no one gets hurt. Man's righteousness is a tangled web full of trap doors and booby traps and poisonous spiders.
For example:
On one floor of one building a newly forming human life is being fought for with thousands of dollars of medical technology and specialized doctors and nurses, while on another floor, in the same building, that same newly forming human life is be burned alive in his mother's womb or slowly ripped, limb from limb. I hate man's righteousness!
I've worked in women's health as a nurse since 2001. NEVER, never, does a physician have to kill an unborn baby to save the life of a mother! NEVER!! But ALWAYS, always, a physician must DELIVER an unborn baby to save the life of a mother. If the unborn baby is unable to live outside the womb, every measure is taken to give life an opportunity to take hold, and a mother an opportunity to grieve. The prescription for a pregnant woman who's life is in danger due to her pregnancy is always the delivery of the baby. Never the killing of the baby.
And then we wonder why the news is full of stories of young women killing their newly born children. Why should she be prosecuted when in a sterile building in her town the same act could be done as a "right" and called a medical procedure?
I hate man's ideas of what's right!
I love Christ's idea of what's right:
"Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea." -Matthew 18:5-6
A society, a person who seeks to preserve life, may loose many a life, nevertheless the honor of Imago Dei is upheld and the health of the person and society grows.
In case you or a loved one is toxic with the poison of pornography, here are a few resources I have found very helpful:
"I do not take this for granted. This is most remarkable. That I would be given the privilege to address the most influential people in the world... A woman on her knees, sways more in this nation than a thousand three-piece suited, Wallstreet jerks." -John Piper
“Men look at pornography out of an arrogant desire to see women in a way that God does not allow. They show arrogant defiance to God's commands, rejecting the delight of sexual intimacy in marriage and deciding for themselves what they believe is better — looking at naked women in porn. They show arrogant disregard for God's call to selfless marital love. They show arrogant derision for the female actresses whom they should be seeking to respect as women who need to hear the good news of Jesus. They show arrogant disdain for their own children by hiding their sin and inviting the enemy into their home and their marriage. They show arrogant disrespect toward all those who would be scandalized if their sin were known. The root problem with men who look at porn is not neediness — it is arrogance.” (110)
“Until God is your chief concern — until sinning against him is what makes your heart break — you will never turn the corner.”
- Finally Free, Fighting For Purity With The Power of Grace by Heath Lambert
I never know what to put in the title line, especially on a day like today. Maybe: My hip and knee hurt bad! Or: I have pockets of puffiness under my eyes that won't go away and weren't there yesterday. Or: My baby is eight today! Or: My sister is coming tomorrow!
I'll tell ya, 38 has been a year of physical breakdown I didn't expect until at least 58. And I don't like it one bit! I shouldn't have to pull on the car door to get out of my car because of my knee pain in my 30's! And I shouldn't be limping and walking half bent over the day after going for a one mile jog. And I should be popping 1600 mg of ibuprofen everyday so I can not wince with everyday movements. All of this should be non-exsistent. I can't even think about squatting or lunging or burpees or kettle bell swings or any other gym workout that isn't in the old-lady water aerobics class.
So I had an MRI on the 8th and was referred to an orthopedic doc. I saw him today. He wants to do three injections of orthovisc in my knee. Basically it's a lube job for the knee. That and physical therapy. He says he thinks I'm having IT band pain and I have atrophy of my left quadriceps which isn't helping, hence the physical therapy. I think he's a good doctor, he listened to me... methinks that's the most important thing in a physician next to skill and knowledge.
All this at age 38 with no good reason (I'm not exactly a competitive athlete) has me searching online for some information about some changes I could make in my diet that may help prevent the kind of inflammation the ortho said showed on the MRI of my knee. I'm gonna have to eat crow, or herring rather, and join my husband in eating canned herring. It's his favorite snack... eats a couple cans a day. I give him a lot of grief for it. It's not exactly a breath freshener! I guess if we both have herring breath.... ugh. Nevermind. Maybe I'll look into fish oil supplements.
So I'm thinking maybe it's the flonase (which I was prescribed along with my antibiotic for a sinus infection) that left a sac of fluid bulging below my left eye today. It's not pretty.
I can't believe it's been eight years since Ryland was born. He's such a gift. My Christmas gift! I treasure the gift and stewardship of both the sons I've been given. Each one is distinct. Ryland is methodical, logical, matter-of-fact, sensitive, not-a-jock, a puzzle-solver, a math-lover, a rule-follower, a tad bossy, a Felix, very affectionate, a bit of a momma's boy, has a keen justice-meter, wishes he could eat sugar and play video games all day long, and has a smile that lights up a room.
I'm always studying to learn the bend my children have so I can guide them in the direction they were designed to go. I think Ryland's bend is towards numbers and order. Maybe CPA? I see an inclination towards self-righteousness and judgmentalness. But I also see a great sensitivity to the mercy he knows is not earned or deserved. This one has a dirty heart like the rest of us, but the soil is good and soft and ready to receive truth. You know what else grows well in good soil? Weeds. And as a momma-servant in my Master's child-raising-field I find myself tending to those weeds with lots of prayer, total dependence upon the mercy and grace a fallen-and-redeemed-parent needs, and loving discipline. I'm so glad I get to be Ryland's mom! (And just as glad I get to be the mom to his Oscar-like brother Connor!)
My sister is coming from Shasta Lake, CA tomorrow to ring in the new year with me!!! I'm so excited and blessed. She's leaving my precious nephews to come spend some time with her nephews. I hope I get to do the same in the spring. I purchased tickets last month to the Phoenix Symphony's New Year's Eve Celebration. I can't wait! I've always wanted to go to a symphony. In heaven, I hope I can play an instrument really well or have a fantabulous singing voice! Musicians and people who build things intrigue me! I want my boys to at least have had the experience of a dress-up night at the symphony. So, despite their moaning about how boring it will be, they're coming! I think they'll be surprised. I might have to put them on a 24 hour fast from all things electronic before we go.
It's Sunday morning. Things aren't picture perfect here, as I'm sure they aren't in your house either. Honestly I'm fighting to squeak out little prayers of, "Help me Lord." and "Give me a drink of your living water Lord... I'm so thirsty!"
That Still Small Voice reminded me to call to mind the hope I once shared with others, the vision and promises God had planted in my heart before this storm hit my life.
So I went back to the archives of my old Timothy Moms blog. I went there because as I watched my boys this morning I felt empty as to what to teach them. If I'm to teach them diligently God's word when I sit in my house, and walk by the way, when I lie down and when I wake up, my question is, "What if I have no idea what to teach? What if no message for them is pressing on my heart?" So I prayed, "What do I teach them Lord?" And then I went to Timothy Moms.
Here's what I read:
I realize that just as it was for those who came before Jesus it is for me now. For i wait too. I wait and labor and pray and hope in God's sure promises for Christ to be formed in my little children. Sometimes it seems hopeless. Sometimes it seems so far away. Sometimes it seems impossible. But my hope must be set not on what I see or hear in my boys but on God's promise which does not fail. And just as Mary resigned herself to be the vessel through which God would deliver His Son in the flesh, though she would be rejected and in much pain, I must surrender myself to believing that with my God all things are possible... even the forming of Christ in my little boys is possible.
Oh Living water! Thank you Lord for refreshing my soul with a rememberance from last Christmas. Thank you for reminding me to wait upon You. Sometimes my diligent teaching will be quiet waiting on YOU. And even like this morning, as I wait on You, You'll send me those teachable moments. Please impress on my sons' hearts this morning Your word to put away anger and to instead be kind to one another, forgiving one another, just as God has been kind to us and has forgiven us through Christ. Let your word be a school master to them this morning, leading them to faith in Christ, making them wise for salvation thru Christ.
All your children shall be taught by the Lord, And great shall be the peace of your children... This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, And their righteousness is from Me," Says the Lord. Isaiah 54:13,17
Mother's day approaches and I find myself prayerfully desiring to magnify Christ with my motherhood, and to finish the work He's given me to do in bringing up my sons in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. I also find myself thanking God for the mother He gave me and noticing women and mothers all around me, praying that they would find their worth in Christ and thereby truly fulfill their call to nurse and train others up in His ways. And I find myself rejoicing in the beauty of adoption as I get to see my God set the fatherless in the family of my sister and her husband and watch as He makes a barren woman the happy mother of children.
Mothering is a reflection of our great God and when we walk in the grace of Christ's life working in and through us, our mothering becomes a monument built up for the glory of God.
If you are a mom, God has given you a house to build for Him.
Oh how I'm preaching to myself here!
It's not an unnoticed work when its done unto the Lord. He sees. He cares. He gently leads. Just as He gave Leah and Rachel the ministry of building the house of Israel for Him, by giving their lives to raising 12 sons, He has given you and me the ministry of building a home that reflects His glory by giving our lives to raising our kids in His ways. That's not just telling them His ways (though it is that too), but raising them IN His ways.
He's given us the ministry of bringing up children IN an environment of HIS ways. That means we must be dying to self and following Christ daily. It means we give them a home where they hear prayer and praise, wisdom and kindness from our lips and our actions. It means they see us respecting their father (whether we're married or divorced). It means they see us reaching out to others in Jesus' name, loving His word and trusting in His promise of new life.
We have such a great calling! It's great and it's by the grace of God that we get to partake of some of His story as moms!
Lately the Spirit has been speaking these things to me:
1. Don't try to extract the poison, the flesh, the "tares" from them, just pour the good, the pure milk, the clean water of God's word into them. This means I must stop fretting over every evidence of the sinful, fleshly nature I see in them, trying to pull out every weed and drop of poison, but rather I must faithfully water them with the word and bring them up in a life of God's good ways. This doesn't mean I don't discipline them, it just means I don't tailor a heavy yoke of trying to strain out every bit of flesh I see, rather I let God's law (God's word) be their teacher and boundaries. Nor does this mean that I don't care about the sinful, fleshly tendencies I see in them. It just means I cast all those cares upon the Lord, intercede for them, and trust in God's promise which is stronger than their nature.
2. Building healthy children begins with a friendship with their father. This means that just as my sons were physically born because I united myself with my husband (in the intimate bond of friendship God made for husband's and wives to enjoy), just as it was the tool through which God brought two new lives into this world, it is the tool through which He builds up healthy lives in them. And in spirit, as I intimately bond with Christ in prayer and praise, new life is in me and I am able to build up, not suck the life out of, my husband and children. More important than any specific teaching or action is that I am satisfied in Christ, that I do all I do as unto Him, and that display love and respect to my husband before my kids.
3. Whatever you want for your children, you have to be first. I think that's self-explanatory. Specifically the Spirit is leading me to lead my kids into a life of fearing God not man by conquering my own tendency to fear man. And the sure-fire way to destroy the fear of man is to preach and serve Christ. So I am praying for and looking for ways to, in my children's presence, preach Christ and serve Christ to their peers and the people I encounter in a day. One of the ways that I've begun to do this is by visiting my son at lunchtime at his school and giving thanks to God with him and his friends. He's so afraid of what his friends will think of him because he doesn't see them pray, but I pray that seeing me pray in the midst of them, without fear, will blaze a trail of confidence in God (fearing God) rather than a false confidence in man.
4. Teaching them will draw others to Christ. Jesus pointed out that He was here to feed His children (referring to Israel, specifically His 12) and when the gentiles came to receive from Him, He said things like, "Why should I give the food meant for the children to the dogs?" He wasn't being mean. He was doing the work His Father gave Him to do rather than the work that men wanted Him to do. But in doing so He wasn't merciless to those outside of the house of Israel. In fact in His commitment to teach His 12, using every encounter to set them examples and speak words that would lead and guide them, He often involved Gentiles who were saved while Christ taught His twelve through them.
I long for the people around me to know Christ, the people "out there", yet I feel restrained and powerless to reach them. God has a work for me to do even though I see a lot of work "out there" that I could do. Yet, even so, God is powerful, and in doing the work of teaching my sons His ways and setting examples for them to follow, I get to reach out to the "others" in my life. It's requiring prayer and a sensitivity to His Spirit, and a willingness to submit to His will and turn from my plans when they may not be His.
5. Keep fighting for your kids in prayer... God is! For the past several weeks I've been meeting with two other women in my area for a Moms In Touch International (MITI) meeting once a week. We get together and we pray for about an hour for our kids, they're friends, and their schools. It's awesome!
Last night, on the way to the store, I caught a piece of a speaker speaking to a conference of MITI. He talked about how his mom (the founder of MITI) faithfully clung to God's word and never let God forget about her son though he strayed from the Lord. My heart was so touched. My sons are only 6 and 4 and yet I already feel them slipping from my grasp. So then, rather than trying to cling to them, I must cling to God's word and lift them up in my hands to God, and not grow weary in interceding for them.
The speaker gave this scripture and I know it's for me to take in praying for my kids in the power of God:
...the Lord your God Himself fights for you... Deuteronomy 3:22
Lately I've grown weary, overwhelmed with what I see circumstancially, and what I know about my sinful nature. I've been hearing the accusations of the enemy, and the condemnation he throws my way, and I've cowered in weeping. But the Spirit has been a faithful friend to lift my head and remind me of the way to overcome my accuser and to help me remember the promise of God's word which is more true than what I see.
May the Lord continue to help me in my weakness, to help each of us in our desire to build up a home that brings Him glory, and to intercede for our children without loosing heart.
Happy Mother's Day mom and all you moms!
Related:
Here's that wonderful "Invisible Woman" video. I never get tired of watching it! :)
A couple years ago my heart was stirred to ask my husband to consider supporting me in staying home full-time. He graciously agreed to do so.
During these years at home, I have experienced sweet fellowship with Christ in doing the unrecognized, unfinished, servant-like, foot-washing tasks that involve keeping up a home. I've come to see the home as a foundational testimony of God in society. I've developed a heart for the simple, priceless things like eating a meal together and being here when my husband comes home. God has also wooed my husband's heart through me being home. But during this time I've clung to the false-doctrine that being a homemaker meant I could not, or should not, work outside my home. I believed that's what being a homemaker meant... not working outside your home.
This past year I have had to humble myself and confess that I've been wrong both in believing and teaching that dogma to others when it's just not what God's Word says! I made homemaking about "to work or not to work" when God's Word is clear... that is not the question to ask.
The Spirit has helped me to understand that homemaking is not the absence of working outside the home but is a multifaceted ministry. In fact, as I study it out, I see a triune service in homemaking.
It is management:
"She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness." - Proverbs 31:27 NKJV
It is doing the "foot-washing" no one wants to do:
"{She} willingly works with her hands." -Proverbs 31:13 NKJV
And it is the building of relationships:
"The wise woman builds her house, But the foolish pulls it down with her hands."- Proverbs 14:1
NO WHERE in scripture do I find God saying that being a homemaker means not working outside your home.
Now, this means I have to eat crow. I have been one who trumpeted the cause of not working outside the home. I know the arguments out there. I've read them, said amen to them, and been caught up in them, as though the message of a woman not working outside her home were the gospel itself! I WAS SOOOOOO WRONG!
As I look at the Word of God I see very clear commands for women to:
To watch over the ways of their households (Proverbs 31:27)
To build their homes, that is, the relationships in their homes (Proverbs 14:1)
And to be about the business of homemaking (Titus 2:5)
In none of those do I see a mandate for women to refrain from working outside their homes. In fact, if anything, I see in the Proverbs 31 woman the example of a homemaker who sells her skills. Her employment to the "merchants" of the world is PART OF HER HOMEMAKING!
"She makes linen garments and sells them, And supplies sashes for the merchants." - Proverbs 31:24
Now, no doubt, the extent to which a woman is engaged in employment for money and can still manage, build and keep a home is a factor. But I can't decide how much is too much for you, neither can you decide that for me. Each of us must walk by faith in the Spirit and decide how best to manage our households under the leadership of our husbands (if we have husbands).
It has been really hard for me to admit this. I feel like I can identify with Paul after having been Saul, zealously, in the name of God, persecuting Jesus by persecuting His church. I feel like I've been so blind to the truth about homemaking and have clung to the cause of "to work or not to work" that I've ignorantly been hurting my Lord and His body in doing so.
Christ has not called me or any of us to trumpet the cause of to work or not to work. He's called us to trumpet Christ! And as far as causes, God has ONE for us no matter what the circumstances of our lives are:
And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren. - Romans 8:28-29
Yes, we are to teach sound things, scriptural things. As women of God we're called to obey the teaching of being homemakers and to teach other women in our lives to be homemakers too. And when we add to that command OUR belief that homemaking means not working outside our homes, we add a burden that is beyond the easy yoke of Christ.
"...admonish the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be blasphemed." Titus 2:4-5
Christ calls us to be servants in our homes, managers of our homes, and builders of the relationships in our homes whether we work outside our homes or not! And from Proverbs 31:24 I see Him calling us to use the skills He's given us to contribute to the income that maintains our homes.
Whether our use of skills is in making homemade things and selling them, or serving dinner in a local restaurant, or helping a woman give birth to her child... part of the management of our homes involves using our skills to earn money. This of course will have its season in our lives as homemakers.
To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven... - Ecclesiastes 3:1
Some of us have the blessing of a husband who provides all the necessary income for the household, freeing us to use our skill to earn money in creative ways. Some of us are doing the unpaid service of nursing and raising small children, an employment for which the compensation is beyond monetary, and one which leaves little time in the day for earning any money. Some of us are single moms, providing is not an option and is a very real part of our homemaking. Some of us are able to work outside our homes and still be available to our families and about the business of managing our households. In each case our call is the same: We are to be watching over the ways of our households and not eating the bread of idleness. This brings God glory in our lives.
The question is not should I work outside my home or not. These are the questions I need to ask:
Do I love my husband and children as a friend?
Am I a home-maker or a home-destroyer?
Do I watch over the ways of my household or have I abandoned that for self indulgence?
I'm so thankful for the past 3 years I've been able to dedicate solely to our home. My heart is full of gratitude for my husband who has been, and continues to be, the willing provider and leader of our home. As God has rid me of my own law concerning homemaking, and taught me His will, I'm excited to see how He will provide the perfect way to make my own "linen garments" and sell them as part of the testimony of homemaker He's building in me for His glory!
In the rest of this first part of the Matters of the Home series I'll be sharing more about the triune ministry of homemaking I see in God's word. I'd love to hear your feedback, even if it's in disagreement with what I've written here. Whether you feel passionate about a woman not working outside her home or not, if you are a new creature in Christ we are sisters! We are part of the same body! I want us to be united in Him in love!
Comment questions:
Is working outside your home a season of life you are in right now?
What skills/talents do you have that you can do your own modern-day making of linen garments and selling them?
Is your mind engulfed in personal career goals or in the building up of your home for God's glory?
Sunday mornings can be a real test of a mother's sanctification, especially if her husband happens to be a pastor who leaves the house much earlier than the rest of the family. Here's how it went recently in one house (you're free to speculate on whose):
"The fifteen-year-old couldn't tuck his shirt in because of `something to do with the pockets,' and his belt was too small.
"The thirteen-year-old was having trouble curling her hair.
"The ten-year-old couldn't find her Sunday School lesson.
"The eight-year-old hadn't done his Bible readings because he didn't know which they were.
"The six-year-old's room and closet were unacceptably messy, and the socks she had on were muddy.
"The three-year-old couldn't find her Bible. Although not yet a reader, she couldn't think of going to church without the Bible.
"The baby's carrying blanket had disappeared."
Somehow the mother was to be nicely groomed, calm, and able to get this whole package into a van, seated and belted as law requires, and drive them to church on time.
But everything in this scene is the King's Business, which He looks on in loving sympathy and understanding, for, as Baron Von Hugel said, "The chain of cause and effect which makes up human life, is bisected at every point by a vertical line relating us and all we do to God." This is what He has given us to do, this task here on this earth, not the task we aspired to do, but this one. The absurdities involved cut us down to size. The great discrepancy between what we envisioned and what we've got force us to be real. And God is our great Reality, more real than the realest of earthly conditions, an unchanging Reality. It is His providence that has put us where we are. It's where we belong. It is for us to receive it--all of it--humbly, quietly, thankfully.
Sunday morning, the Lord's Day, can be the very time when everything seems so utterly unrelated to the world of the spirit that it is simply ridiculous. Yet to the Lord's lovers it is only a seeming. Everything is an affair of the spirit. Everything, to one who loves God and longs with a sometimes desperate longing for a draught of Living Water, a single touch of His hand, a quiet word--everything, I say, can be seen in His perspective.
Does He watch? Yes, "Thou God seest me" (Genesis 16:3, KJV). Is His love surrounding us? "I have loved thee with an everlasting love" (Jeremiah 31:3, KJV). "I will never leave thee or forsake thee" (Hebrews 13:5, KJV). May I offer to Him my feeling of the dislocation between reality and my ideals, that great chasm which separates the person I long to be, the work I long to do for Him, the family I struggle to perfect for His glory--from the actuality? I may indeed, for it is God Himself who stirs my heart to desire, and He can easily see across the chasm. He enfolds all of it, He is at work in me and in those I pray for, "to will and to do of his good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13, KJV). I may take heart, send up an instant look of gratitude, and--well, get that beloved flock into the van and head down the freeway singing!
Sir Thomas Browne wrote, "Man is incurably amphibious; he belongs to two worlds--to two sets of duties, needs, and satisfactions--to the Visible or This World, and to the Invisible or Other World" (Essays and Addresses, 2nd series).
I'm so glad there's an Elizabeth Elliot. I tell ya, sometimes I think God gave her the words to speak because He new I couldn't and yet I need so badly for someone to speak what the Spirit is teaching me. He truly is doing this work in me. I find Him often pointing out that my disappointment and disatisfaction is not because my life is not what I thought it should be or would be by now, but because I have not fully surrendered myself to His soveriegnty in what my life is RIGHT NOW! He knows the desires of my heart... I must leave them with Him. But He is in control of what is before me today, so I can be His diswasher today, or His bend-down-to-tie-that-shoe-15-times person today, or the one looking for that misplaced inhaler for the third time today. I can be His meal-planner today, and His training children in manners and hygiene person today. Whatever He sets before me today, if I surrender myself fully to it for His glory, I will be fully satisfied, because I'll simply be serving Him. I'll have a heart like David, who, though he knew his annointing was as king he said, "A single day in your courts is better than a thousand anywhere else! I would rather be a gatekeeper in the house of my God than live the good life in the homes of the wicked." (Psalm 84:10)
I'd rather be a floor washer, and dish doer, a bum wiper, and bath drawer, a meal server, and husband helper, a child trainer and comforter, and a dog-poop picker upper, for one day in the courts of my God than live the good life in the home of the wicked.
