November 2008

More Rocks

Megan Breedlove November 24, 2008 No Comments

My third child, Lindsey, is usually the last one to the minivan. This is because the older two, Ellie and Kenny, have to have a race to see who can get there first. Lindsey, on the other hand, is content to get there when she gets there.

Usually, Lindsey comes directly to the van. Sometimes, however, something distracts her on the way, and she takes a detour, or simply stops along the way to do something.

On one particular day when she was almost two-and-a-half, Lindsey’s attention was captured by the rocks in our gravel driveway. She was going through a phase where she would squat down, carefully examine the rocks, and choose one or two before moving to the next spot in the driveway and doing the same thing.

This day was no exception.

Ellie and Kenny got into the van, and I lifted the baby in her car carrier and snapped it into the base. Lindsey was still busy checking out rocks. “Come on, Lindsey,” I said.

Lindsey clutched her rocks in her two little fists and obediently got into the van. Then, she opened her fists to show the rocks to Kenny. “Look, Kenny!” she said. “More rocks!”

I tried to be patient as I stood there waiting for her to finish showing off her rocks and get into her seat. After all, I had four young kids to manage and places to go. Rocks were not on my list of priorities. They were not important to me.

They could have been.

Instead of trying to get Lindsey to hurry up and get in the van, I could have taken a few seconds and squatted down with her to admire her rocks. I could have shown her that what interested her interested me, instead of failing to see what she valued as important.

Even before Lindsey reached her seat in the van, I realized how glad I am that God takes more of an interest in my interests than I sometimes do in my kids’.

God is not impatient with my interests because he has other things to do. God doesn’t see the things I am interested in as boring—something he might have been interested in at one time, but not anymore.

No, God involves himself in my life and my interests because he is interested in me.

God’s ways are higher than my ways, and his thoughts than my thoughts. God knows far more than I ever will about everything—in fact, everything that exists, he either created or gave mankind the ability to create. Yet amazingly, astonishingly, God still squats down to my eye level to share my life and my interests with me.

Stop and think about that a minute. And think about the wonderful, profound ramifications of that thought.

When you or I have fun creating something delicious for dinner, God enjoys the experience with us. When we get a “well done” from our supervisor, God is glad with us. When our child takes his or her first steps, God rejoices with us.

How do I know?

Over and over throughout the Bible, God reveals himself as an emotional Being who responds emotionally to the things that happen to his people. True, his emotions are not entirely like ours—his are never capricious or inappropriate, never out of proportion, never sinful. But he does feel. He does react to the things that his people experience.

In fact, Jesus says that anything we do to one of his children, we do to him. In other words, he takes the things that happen to us very personally.

The things we experience matter to him.

How incredible is that? That Almighty God cares about the smallest details of our lives? That he interests himself in the things that interest us? That he is moved by the things that happen to us?

Beloved, as you go through your day today, I encourage you to try something.

Several times, stop and remember the fact that God is with you (if he is in you). Ask him to show you his perspective on your day. Ask him how he feels right then about what you are experiencing. Ask him what have been his delights—or what has been his sadness—about your day.

Then thank him for his magnificent love that cares about you and about your experiences.

See if you’re not drawn closer into an incredible, loving relationship with the precious Lover of your soul.

Matthew 10:29-31—Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

The Arcade

Megan Breedlove November 17, 2008 No Comments

Once, my (then) three children and I spent the night in Houston with a friend of mine. She has a three-bedroom house, so that night, we made arrangements for her to sleep in her own room, her two girls to double up in one room, and me and my children to sleep in the third bedroom. She would have offered me more space—the living room couch, the futon in the family room—but I knew that my kids wouldn’t feel comfortable sleeping in wide-open areas without me right there. Plus, my then-two-and-a-half-year-old son would be able to get up and run rampant during the night. So, Amy and I dragged the futon mattress into the bedroom and set up the pack-n-play. I put my younger daughter, who had just turned one, in the pack-n-play, and my four-year-old daughter and my son shared the king-sized futon mattress on the floor. I slept in the twin bed.

Okay, maybe “slept” isn’t the right word. I did lie down and prepare to sleep—or at least, that’s what I hoped would happen. But the minute I lay down, Lindsey (the one-year-old) and Kenny began some sort of game that was halfway in between acting like Weebles and imitating Whack-a-Mole.

You remember Weebles, as in, “Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down”? You could push the Weeble over on its side, and the minute you let go, it would pop back up. And remember Whack-a-Mole, that arcade game where one mole pops up and you try to whack it back down with a hammer before the next one pops up? Well, I lay down to sleep, and Lindsey popped up in the pack-n-play, laughing. “Lie down, Lindsey,” I said. She would lie down, but the minute she did, Kenny would get up. “Lie down, Kenny,” I would say. He would lie down, and guess who would pop back up? (Thus, the combination of Weebles and Whack-a-Mole.)

This went on for about half an hour. By this time, I was considering all kinds of options I wouldn’t have considered just thirty minutes before. Benadryl? Didn’t bring any. Duct tape? Didn’t know if Amy had any. I finally decided just to wait them out. Eventually, they settled down, and I fell asleep. For a few minutes, at least.

I don’t know how long it was before I heard Kenny fussing. I could tell it was the kind of fussing he does when he is feeling anxious. “Kenny, lie down and go to sleep,” I said gently. Then, the next time, “Kenny, I’m right here. Shh.” Then the next time…well, I don’t remember all the things I said, because I must have reassured him, either verbally or by reaching down to touch him, at least three hundred forty-two times. Okay, maybe not that many, but surely at least twenty. Every time I spoke softly to him or touched him, he would calm down right away, and he’d be fine until the next time he woke up in a strange place and didn’t know where I was.

Has that ever happened to you in your spiritual life? Have you ever woken up in a strange place and wondered where God was? Or have you ever woken up just needing a little reassurance that He was still there—that He hadn’t abandoned you?

I have. And I bet you have, too.

We all need reassurance at times. Just like Kenny, feeling upset when he was out of his comfort zone, we get upset when we’re out of our comfort zones, too. What do we need during those times? The same thing Kenny needed. He didn’t need a lecture from me on why he shouldn’t be upset. He didn’t need harsh words from me, commanding him to deal with his feelings in a way he wasn’t capable of doing. He certainly didn’t need me to ignore his need. What he did need was my presence. He needed to hear me and to feel me, to know I was there with him. Only then could he feel secure enough to relax.

Friend, that’s what we need when it’s the middle of the night, spiritually speaking, and we’re upset and in a strange place. We need to call out to God and receive His response—to hear Him and feel Him. He may respond as a voice in our hearts, whispering comfort. He may respond by touch, using the arms of a dear friend to give us a hug. But He will respond. Just like I couldn’t hear Kenny’s need and ignore it, God will never ignore our need. When I heard Kenny fuss, truly upset, my desire was to reach out and minister to him. My heart wanted to help him. And God’s heart wants to help us, too.

But I never could have helped Kenny if I hadn’t known his need. If he had lain there, suffering in silence, I wouldn’t have known he was upset, and I wouldn’t have known to comfort him. Obviously, God knows our needs, whether or not we verbalize them to him. But when we reach out to God, we open our hearts to Him.

So the next time you wake up, and it’s dark, and you’re scared or upset, call out to God. He’s right there, even though you might not be able to see Him. Call out to Him, opening your heart to Him as you express your need. Receive His response to you. And then relax. He’s right there.

Jeremiah 29:12-14—Then you will call upon me, and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord.

My Tummy Hurts

Megan Breedlove November 10, 2008 No Comments

Sometimes, I think teaching children to pray is easier said than done. As moms who love the Lord, we know that we should teach our children to pray, and we want to. Wanting to is easy.

The “how” of it is what gets difficult.

How do we guide them into a prayer relationship like we have—or like we wish we had? How do we explain why there ought to be more to it than just mumbling “DearGodthankyouforthefoodinJesus’nameweprayAmen”? How do we encourage them to initiate prayer on their own? How do we help them understand the amazing concept that they are actually talking to God?

Fortunately, it’s not all up to us. God’s Holy Spirit can and does work in the hearts and minds of our children just as He does in ours.

Perhaps one of the primary ways He works is to grant children a, well, childlike faith and trust in Him.

The other day, the kids and I were having family devotions (my husband was at work). We were practicing praying for each other. The way I’ve been doing this with them is to ask each child in what way he or she needs for us to pray for him or her. Then, the rest of us take turns praying for that child. Finally, the child prays for him- or herself.

That night, Lindsey, at two-and-a-half, wanted us to pray for her tummy, which she said hurt. Each of us took turns praying. Then, it was Lindsey’s turn.

“Now, you pray and ask God to help your tummy feel better,” I guided her.

Lindsey closed her eyes, bowed her head, and placed her hands in her lap. “My tummy hurts,” she said sincerely. “In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.”

Out of the mouths of babes.

Lindsey didn’t worry about how she began her prayer, or about whether she followed some acronym, or about how long she spent praying. She didn’t worry about using flowery language or including the “proper” elements. She simply laid out her request before God and trusted Him (to the limits of a two-year-old’s understanding) to take care of it.

Maybe we should do the same.

That’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with using an acronym to guide our praying, or about trying to make sure we include all the elements we want to include, such as praise, confession, and thanksgiving.

What is wrong is when we focus more on trying to pray “right” than on God Himself.

God doesn’t demand that we follow a rigid protocol in approaching Him. Certainly, we are to come in the right spirit, but the “right” spirit doesn’t mean that we have to pray in a certain way. It means that we are to come to God with our heart right toward Him.

No instruction I could have given Lindsey would have helped her improve on her prayer. Maybe she would have learned to pray in more complicated language, or to include more elements in her prayer. But nothing could have improved on her simple, childlike trust in approaching God.

Dear friend, do you come to Him the same way Lindsey did? Do you talk to Him about your problems and trust Him to do something about it?

Lindsey didn’t spend the rest of the day wondering if God was really going to do something about her tummy or not. She simply told Him about her problem and then moved on with the rest of her day.

Do we do that? Or do we spend our “wait” time as we wait upon His answer fretting about what His answer will be, or maybe even about whether He will answer at all?

Oh, we have so much to learn from our children.

Simple, childlike faith.

Do you need that kind of faith? Do you need that kind of simple trust?

Ask Him for it. You can count on it that He will begin building it in you, for He has promised that if we ask Him anything according to His will, He hears us.

Then, practice it. The more you get to know God, the more you will know that you can trust Him.

And the next time you are praying with your children, listen to their prayers. Listen, and learn from them.

What might God be saying to you through the prayers of your children?

1 John 5:14—This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.

Mark 10:15—I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will not enter it.

That’s Nice

Megan Breedlove November 3, 2008 No Comments

Remember how, before kids, showering used to be a private activity? As in, if anybody wanted your attention, they often just waited until you came out?

Not anymore. My kids figure that if they can get the door open (which often happens, because even with the lock on, one door still doesn’t shut properly), it’s as good as a direct invitation to please come in.

One morning, I was standing in the shower, trying to enjoy a little peace and quiet, and hoping the steam would clear up some of my congestion. I had been suffering from significant congestion and allergies for a few days, and since I was pregnant, I couldn’t take any medications that would actually work. So I was hoping that if I breathed the steam, that would help unclog my sinuses. There I was—breathing steam—when I heard running feet, and the door burst open.

“Mommy,” Ellie said breathlessly, “Daddy said I could play games on the back computer!”

“That’s nice,” I said unenthusiastically, meaning both “I’m sick and I don’t really care”, as well as “Why are you telling me this?”

Ellie left, heading for the back computer, which is only a couple yards away from the bathroom. “Daddy,” I heard her say happily, “Mommy said, ‘That’s nice.’”

In her sweet, excited voice, she was putting a positive spin on my comment, as if I had been excited for her and said something encouraging.

I should have, I thought. I could have been excited for her, instead of focusing on myself. Fortunately, however, she didn’t seem to have noticed my negativity.

On the heels of that realization came another, this one in the form of a question: Do I put a positive spin on what others say to me, or do I interpret people’s comments negatively?

In this case, if Ellie had heard negativity in my voice, she would have been right. It was probably only her youth and inexperience that prevented her from hearing what was surely there. I, in my…ahem…slightly older youth, have more experience interpreting people’s words and tones, and hearing the meaning behind them. I probably wouldn’t have missed it, had someone said something similar to me.

But do I tend to assume that my interpretation is correct? I’m not infallible. And if I accept that as true, then I must accept the fact that sometimes, I may be wrong. I may misinterpret what someone has said and put a different spin on it than what he or she intended.

I tend to assume that I have heard and interpreted correctly—that is, that what I thought I heard was actually what was present. I then react. Sometimes, this means that I become offended. Sometimes, I get angry. Sometimes I get disgusted. I’m pretty good at keeping control of my tongue, so I may not say anything, but I think these things. And I set it up in my mind so that the person in question should apologize to me.

All this…and yet I might have been wrong.

Do you know what I mean? Do you ever do this, too?

Here are some ways you can tell: is there a person or people in your life who often tells you that they didn’t mean things the way you took them? When someone tells you they meant something differently, do you believe them? Do you tend to be a black-and-white thinker—a person who sees things as either right or wrong, meaning that someone is always right and someone always wrong?

The answers to these questions will help you evaluate whether or not you tend to hear people positively or negatively. But I suspect that even before you read the questions, you knew the answer. We are usually well aware of whether we tend to quickly judge people’s meaning or to give them the benefit of the doubt. As you read this devotional, you may have heard a still, small Voice whispering, “That’s you.”

I know I heard that Voice.

Maybe we should all be more like Ellie.

I’m not suggesting that we ignore the wisdom we have gained through experience in relating to and interpreting others. I’m just suggesting that we consider putting a positive spin on things. Even if we’re wrong, and the person really did mean something negative, so what? What would it hurt to take the comment at its best possible interpretation instead of the worst, even if the worst is accurate?

Think about it. And as you do, remember that only God sees human hearts and minds accurately 100% of the time. So for one thing, we are not qualified to be perfect judges. For another thing…which brings more peace and joy: looking for the bad in someone’s meaning to make sure we are accurate, or giving them the benefit of the doubt?

1 Peter 4:8—Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

November 2008

More Rocks

The Arcade

My Tummy Hurts

That’s Nice

You Missed

Priorities

I Wouldn’t Do That

Little Things

8 Seconds