A Really Good Flyer

Our house is filled with toys. At least, it sometimes seems that way. I’ve even found the kids’ toys under my bed and in the drawer of my nightstand. What amazes me, however, is not the number of toys (after all, we have four kids), but the fact that we don’t lose more of them.

There are games we’ve had for years, for which we still have all the pieces. In addition, we still have toys that the kids played with years ago. I’m not referring to the toys we’ve stored in the attic for some as-yet-unknown purpose. I’m talking about the toys that have managed to escape the toy rotation and stay in the kids’ rooms because they are beloved and oft-played-with.

Sometimes, however, a beloved toy can’t be found.

That happened to Kenny the other day. He has a small toy which he alternately calls a spaceship or an airplane. He loves this toy because it has a light he can turn on and off. He swoops it through the air, making it fly fast and high. He really loves this tiny little piece of plastic. And one day, he couldn’t find it.

I was sitting at the table working on something. I knew that Kenny had lost his toy, and I knew he was looking for it. Because I wanted him to try to solve his own problem, I let him look on his own. I heard him saying things as he looked, like, “Nope, it’s not in there.” His voice got sadder and sadder. When he had almost lost hope, Kenny came and stood beside me.

“Will you please look for my spaceship, the airplane?” he asked sadly. “He’s a really good flyer.”

I felt the poignancy of his request deep in my soul. You see, Kenny wasn’t merely asking for my help. He was pointing out the virtues of his airplane in the hope that knowing its worth would move my heart to find it.

Kenny was being an advocate for that airplane.

You and I also have an advocate for our needs. And we have one who loves us far more even than Kenny loves his airplane.

Friend, our advocate is Jesus.

Dictionary.com defines an “advocate” as “a person who pleads for or in behalf of another; intercessor”. This is exactly what Jesus does for us. The Lord of all Creation intercedes with God the Father on our behalf. He pleads for us, and for our needs.

Don’t miss the awesome wondrousness of that reality. Not only can you yourself confidently approach your father, but His perfect Son Jesus is already there, advocating for you. I imagine Him saying something like this: “Father, she needs you. Please, meet her need. She’s your beloved child.”

Put your name into the words above. Then savor this truth. Let it sink deep into your heart and mind and soul.

But even more incredible than this amazing truth is the truth that God’s heart is moved by our need.

He’s not some distant deity who rules from on high without being touched by the fray below. No, our God is a personal God, an immediate and intimate God. He cares about us and our needs.

Over and over, the Bible shows God responding emotionally to his people’s needs. Granted, His emotions aren’t the same as ours. They are completely pure and always righteous. But He has granted us a relationship with Him such that our needs touch His heart.

No other follower of any other god dares claim that his or her god cares personally about human needs.

You and I do dare to claim this, because God the Father Himself proclaims it over and over throughout Scripture!

God the Son always lives to advocate for us, bringing our needs to God the Father, because He loves the fragile beings He created and died for.

God the Holy Spirit advocates for us with groans that words cannot express.

Imagine it. God cares deeply and passionately about us and our needs.

I can think of no more profound truth than that.

Praise God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, that this is true.

To Him be glory, both now, and forevermore. Amen.

Hebrews 7:25—Therefore he (Jesus) is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them.

Romans 8:26—In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.

Job 16:19—Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high.

1 Peter 5:7—Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

2 Peter 3:18—To him be glory both now and forever! Amen.

Special Needs

On Thursdays, I take my son, Kenny, to speech therapy. We park along the curb in front of the school, and Kenny and I “race” to see who gets to the school doors first. (He always wins.) Kenny knows the routine: I sign in at the office and put on a “Visitor” sticker, and we go around the corner and down the hall to the speech therapist’s office. Kenny loves his teacher and the other students in his small group. He enjoys the activities they do together, and he looks forward to getting prizes for good attendance.

He also likes getting to check out books from the school library after therapy. He has this privilege because he is enrolled as a student in the district, even though he is only four years old. Because he is officially a student, he has all the rights and privileges of students in the Fort Worth ISD, despite taking only one “class”.

Kenny is not classified as a “regular” student, however. He is classified as being in the special education program. In other words, he is a “special needs” student.

“Special needs” is not a label that any mother hopes her child will grow up to earn. I was no different. I didn’t want Kenny to struggle with any difficulties that would cause him pain. I didn’t want other kids to treat him differently because of his God-given needs.

I knew that this label represented a truth that would cause Kenny to have to work harder than other kids to achieve the same milestones and acceptance. Even now, I am still afraid sometimes that people will look at Kenny and see his difficulties, instead of seeing the wonderful child that he is.

But actually, Kenny is not the only one in our family who has special needs. He’s not the only one who has to work harder in some areas. Our other three children have special needs, too. So do my husband and I.

So do your children.

So do you.

You see, dear mommy friend, we are all special needs students when it comes to the spiritual aspects of life. Oh, our bodies and minds may be physically healthy, but spiritually speaking, we all have special needs.

In fact, each one of us possesses a soul with one extremely special need—the need to be redeemed by the grace of God. Once that occurs, we sometimes assume that everything will fall into place.

It doesn’t always—or even usually—happen that way.

No matter how “together” someone may look on the outside, even she has special needs. No matter how self-sufficient we may want to be, we can never be need-free.

Perhaps God has allowed these seeds of suffering and struggle into our lives so that we will remember that we need Him, and so that we’ll depend on Him instead of on our own strength.

Kenny has to depend on others to help him succeed in areas that are more difficult for him. You and I need to depend on God for the same thing.

If we are to depend on Him, we must spend time with him. Kenny’s needs provide a reason and an avenue for the two of us to work closely together and spend time together that we might not otherwise get to have to ourselves. So, though I would wish his needs to disappear if I could, I recognize their beauty not only in shaping his character but in shaping our life together.

How do you see your special needs? Are they merely an unfortunate or even tragic burden, or do you also see in them the opportunity to draw closer to God in a way that you otherwise might not?

Ask God to help you see your needs as He sees them. You may come to realize that even though your needs themselves are not beautiful, they can be part of God’s beautiful design for your life.

2 Corinthians 12:10—That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Empty Arms

Maybe the news came in a phone call. The telephone rang, and the sound of it was the sound of your life shattering.

Maybe a doctor told you as you sat across the desk from him, with words that couldn’t sink in because you’d gone numb.

Maybe you were there as your child took her last breath.

Whatever the circumstances, your life will never be the same.

There’s nothing more agonizing than losing a child. Nothing cuts deeper or produces longer-lasting pain. Nothing shatters your soul into such tiny fragments that you’re certain you can never be put back together quite the same. You wonder if you can be put back together at all.

You grieve on the anniversary of your child’s death, on what would have been your due date, on your child’s birthday, and at Christmas. You remember the times spent together as a family, a family that will never be complete again.

The times in your life that should bring joy now bring pain.

Mother’s Day is especially painful because everything about it reminds you that your child is gone. The pastor delivers a sermon focusing on mothers. You go to the store for a gallon of milk and pass displays of floral arrangements and cards. You open the newspaper, and out falls a jewelry store circular advertising “gifts to make her day special.”

Even if you have other children who present you with stick figure pictures of yourself and clay handprints, you find yourself trying to remember how your other child’s hand felt in yours.

Precious friend, as you grieve, there is something God wants you to know: your grief touches His heart. He grieves with you.

In the Gospel of John, chapter 11, Jesus arrived in Bethany to hear that His dear friend Lazarus had died. First one of Lazarus’ sisters, then the other, came running to Jesus to blame Him for what happened. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died!”

Our hearts are tormented with the same question. Lord, You could have stopped it. Why didn’t You?

Jesus didn’t directly address the sisters’ cry of anguish. But watch and listen to the answer He did give, for it is the same answer He gives you.

When Jesus saw everyone weeping, He was deeply moved. The Greek words indicate that He was “terribly upset”. You see, He cared about the sisters, their grief, and Lazarus’ death.

“Where have you put him?” Jesus asked, and they answered, “Lord, come and see.”

Upon hearing this, Jesus began to wail loudly. He must have, for in the Jewish culture of Jesus’ day, you grieved openly to show how much you loved the person who died. Even in a culture that was used to weeping and wailing, the other mourners thought Jesus’ grief remarkable in its intensity and talked about how much Jesus must have loved Lazarus.

What does that mean for us, two thousand years later?

It means we can know that when Jesus sees our grief, He is deeply moved. When your child died, He wailed with you.

Never think that because God doesn’t prevent death from happening, He doesn’t care. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, He cared so much about what death does to us that He sent His Son Jesus to gain the victory over it, not just for Himself, but for the whole world.

This victory has incredible implications for us. One day, no mother will ever again grieve the loss of her precious child. No mother will ever again feel the soul-deep, physical ache of empty arms that long to be filled with her baby. Death will finally be destroyed, and there will be no more mourning or crying or pain. God Himself will wipe every tear from your eyes, and your grief will be over.

Oh, friend, can you imagine that day? My soul longs for it, and I know yours does, too.

Until then, when it seems as if the tears will never end, remember that Jesus cries with you. When you don’t know how you can rise to meet one more day, remember that He grieves with you. And remember that though He may require you to walk through agony on this earth, He has promised that one day, your grief will cease as you triumph with Him over that ultimate enemy.

One day, you will rejoice again.

1 Corinthians 15:26—The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

1 Corinthians 15:55—Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?

Revelation 21:4—He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.

Empty Arms

~~ Special thanks to author Renae Brumbaugh for her gracious assistance with editing this devotional ~~

Climbing

My kids love any toy they can jump on—bounce houses, trampolines, or that all-time favorite, Mommy and Daddy’s bed. Now and then, they get invited to parties at jumping places. These are places where there are several large inflatables the kids can climb on, jump on, and have a great time on.

I remember one of these parties in particular. It was at a place called Pump It Up. I had brought Ellie, Kenny, and Lindsey. Kenny was almost four at the time. He had improved greatly in some of the things he was able to do physically, and he was beginning to be comfortable attempting more things.

One of the toys at this party was a large slide. You would climb up one side by holding onto and stepping on small inflatable rectangles, and then you could slide down the other side. Kenny decided that he wanted to go up that slide. I mean, he really wanted to go up the slide.

I was so proud of him for attempting it, because it showed how far he’d come not only physically, but in courage. I wasn’t sure if he could do it, though.

Kenny climbed up onto the platform, crawled through a short tunnel, then approached the climbing part of the slide. He awkwardly tried to figure out how to go on up. I could tell that he understood what he was supposed to do, but that he wasn’t secure about his body’s ability to perform the skill quite yet.

I wound up following him upwards, climbing just far enough behind him that he could make the attempt on his own but also that if he fell, I could catch him. It wasn’t coming easily to him, but Kenny kept trying, and I admired his perseverance.

Then, it happened.

As he was trying to move himself upward, Kenny partially lost his grip, and he wound up still holding onto a couple rectangles, but unevenly, one of his hands on a rectangle further down than the other, one foot dangling.

Oh, no, I thought. Would he get upset? Would he give up?

Both of these were good possibilities, as Kenny got upset easily when he felt overwhelmed by a physical challenge. But I had only a brief instant to wonder what he was going to do before he acted. He readjusted his grip and kept going.

Kenny reached the top and slid down the other slide. Having experienced success, he climbed up and slid down again several more times. Each time, he climbed bravely. Sometimes, he started to fall, as we both knew he would, but each time, he kept going. Later, he was able to make the climb by himself.

Kenny’s attitude that day was a beautiful picture of what our attitudes should be toward surmounting the obstacles in our lives. He was willing to attempt anything, even to the extent of falling, if he knew I was behind him. How much more, then, should we be willing to face anything God causes or allows into our path with the same courage, knowing that even if we fall, our heavenly Father is right there behind us?

You see, we are all like Kenny in some way. We each have our own difficulties. Maybe yours, like his, are physical. Maybe they’re circumstantial. Maybe they’re similar to those of friends you know; maybe they’re like no one else’s. Whatever they are, you have yours, and I have mine.

The question is, what do we do about them? Do we allow them to keep us at the bottom of the slide, afraid to try because we’re sure—or at least pretty certain—we’ll fail? Or do we start climbing up the slide, knowing that even if we fall, God’s arms will be right there to catch us?

It takes courage to attempt something that is difficult for us. Nobody likes to fail, and sometimes, failure is a possibility. But courage comes a lot easier if you trust, not in your own ability to succeed, but in God’s ability either to help you succeed or to support you adequately if He allows failure.

If Kenny hadn’t tried the slide, he wouldn’t have experienced difficulty and near-failure several times. Nor would he have experienced the thrill of success.

If we don’t attempt difficult things in our lives, we won’t experience failing in the attempt. But we also won’t experience being used mightily of God in those things. And those people we might have been used mightily to touch won’t experience the benefits of our having made ourselves available to God.

I don’t know what the obstacle is that you have to climb. I don’t know whether it looks like the gentle slope in my front yard or like Mount Everest. I don’t know whether you would reach the top if you started to climb. But I do know that God can use you no matter how far up the side of the mountain you get.

Precious mommy, is there a mountain in your life that God wants you to start climbing? Are you uncertain you can do it?

Start climbing anyway. Trust God either to enable you to succeed, or to catch you when you fall. And know that as long as you give it your best and fullest effort, He is pleased with the attempt.

Psalm 55:22—Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall.

Isaiah 46:4—Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.