November 2009

Preparing Him Room

A few years ago, I began a new Christmas tradition with my children. Each day of Advent, which begins December 1 and lasts until Christmas, we do an activity designed to illustrate a particular aspect of Christ’s birth. Most of them, I design myself, taking into account the ages and abilities of my children.

One activity they always really enjoy is called the Mall Treasure Hunt. I use ClipArt to create a sheet with eight to ten Christmas-themed pictures, such as a wreath, a candy cane, and a wrapped gift. Of course, I always include a picture of Baby Jesus in the manger. I print out one sheet for each child, and we drive to the mall.

At the mall, the kids’ job is to find each of the items pictured on their paper. Excitedly, they point out the things they have seen, and everyone crosses them off. They’re usually able to find most of the items pretty quickly. But they always have trouble finding one: the baby Jesus.

That, my friends, is the point. Baby Jesus isn’t at the mall.

“Why not?” Ellie asked one year. “Why wouldn’t people want Him?”

I explain that there are many reasons Jesus is not represented at the mall. Some people don’t believe He was anyone special, and don’t love Him. Some people are afraid that if they welcome Jesus, other people won’t shop at their stores. Some people might not know about Him.

On the way out of the mall and then home, we talk about why we do welcome Jesus into our homes. It’s because we believe He’s Who He said He is—the Son of God, I tell them. Because of Who He is and what He did for us, we worship Him, and we love Him.

Then, I ask them what we can do to show Jesus that He is welcome at our house, and to show others, too.

We can tell Him He’s welcome, they say. We can pray to Him and decorate for Him.

What can we do to let others know that He’s welcome at our house? I ask.

That question’s harder to answer. The kids usually give ideas like decorating. Last year, Ellie suggested that we could tell people He is welcome at our house.

Indeed. That’s basically what it comes down to—showing and telling. One doesn’t have much effect without the other. We need to do both.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of making our homes look beautiful, buying and wrapping the right toys, and cooking the right food that sometimes Jesus gets crowded out of His own celebration. So I encourage you to spend some time thinking about how you will make sure Jesus has a place in your home this Christmas.

What will you do this year to let Jesus know that He’s welcome in your home?

What will you do to let others know that you welcome Jesus?

What will you do to show Jesus that He’s welcome not only in your home, but in your heart?

How will you prepare Him room this season of celebrating His birth?

Luke 2:6-7—While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Heaven at McDonald’s

One day a few weeks ago, the kids and I were on our way home from the YMCA. It was near lunchtime, and as they usually do, the kids began lobbying for stopping at McDonald’s for lunch. This time, I said yes.

“Yayyyyy!” they shouted.

I was glad to take them. I didn’t feel like cooking anyway. I also love it when I get major brownie points from the kids for doing something I’m happy to do. Then, too, I still love McDonald’s, as I have since I was a kid. So I drove them to the one we usually visit.

Immediately when we got inside, the kids headed for the play area. I gave the clerk our order, watching as they piled the tray three feet high with our meals. I grabbed the ketchup and straws and a handful of napkins and found a table in the play area.

The kids ate about half their meals, then decided it was time to go play. They ran off, leaving me at the table by myself, which was fine. It was actually rather peaceful. I opened the book I’d brought with me and began to read.

I read for a few minutes, periodically looking up to check for the kids. One, two, three, four. Good. All there.

When it was finally time to go, I slipped a bookmark between the pages and closed the book. I was really beginning to enjoy it and wished I didn’t have to stop reading.

You see, the book was about heaven. I’d just had the chance to sit and contemplate the glorious place that will be my eternal home. No wonder I was reluctant to get moving. No wonder I’d felt so at peace. What could be better than meditating on heaven and the God Who awaits me there?

Incredibly, this magnificent, loving God had given me a taste of heaven right there in the middle of the McDonald’s playland. Sitting there on a yellow plastic bench, my soul was able to commune with Him as I imagined the place He has prepared for me.

If imagining heaven while in the midst of laughing, shouting kids and the smell of french fries was so wonderful, how much more wonderful will it be when I actually get there? I love the life God has given me, but I do long for that day when I will reach the home I was made for and live forever with the God I love.

Until then, I’ll have to read about heaven, meditate on it, and ask the Holy Spirit to communicate even a fraction of its glories to me. I won’t be able to fully understand or experience heaven until I’m there.

But I will be able to sit in a plastic booth and connect with the One who created both me and heaven, because God can bring a touch of heaven anytime, anywhere.

So the next time you go to McDonald’s and eat in the playland, and you see a mom reading a book and occasionally looking up to check for her kids with a big grin on her face, that’s probably me.

Come join me. Let’s think about heaven together. After all, we’ll both be there one day. So let’s learn about our future home. Let’s be grateful that God lets us experience tastes of it now. And may our we respond to these glimpses of our future home with glory and praise to the One Who has prepared it for us.

1 Corinthians 2:9—No eye has seen, nor ear heard, and it has not occurred to the heart of man, what God has prepared for those who love him.

Partial View

My family is part of a homeschool co-op. One of the biggest benefits our co-op offers is called Tuesday School. Tuesday School takes place on Tuesday mornings and lasts for three hours. During this time, students from K-12 can take a variety of classes and enjoy time with their friends. Also during the same hours, there are “classes” for ages infant through four years. The younger children’s classes are similar to Sunday School or perhaps Vacation Bible School.

During first hour, I am assigned to be an assistant in the four-year-olds class. The lead teacher is an amazing woman. She is unfailingly patient, encouraging, and creative, and she speaks to the children in a pleasant, upbeat voice that draws them to her. She possesses the amazing abilities of being able to attract kids into the activities even when they’re distracted and of knowing how to discipline in a truly positive, constructive manner that doesn’t embarrass the child.

One morning, our class went upstairs for the educational activities time. The teacher gathered all the students in front of her and sat down on the floor with them. She showed them a book she had brought. Each page in the book had a small square cut out of the middle. Through the square, you could see a portion of the picture on the page behind it. The teacher asked the children to guess what the picture was with only a two-inch square of the actual photo to give them a clue. For example, the small, square picture would seem to show a desolate wasteland, but the entire picture would turn out to reveal an elephant.

I enjoyed the activity, even though I got most of the answers wrong. The children enjoyed it, too. They would all laugh delightedly together when someone guessed “tree bark” and it turned out to be a volcano. It was pretty funny.

What isn’t funny, though, is when we make mistaken judgments such as these in real life.

Often, we think we see the big picture, when in reality we are as far off as we can be. We glimpse a tiny snapshot of a situation or of our circumstances, and we assume we know the big picture, when only God does.

We see a job loss and think the big picture is financial ruin, when God knows that the big picture is really learning to trust him.

Our child disappoints us, and we think the big picture is that we’ve failed as a parent, when God knows that in reality, the picture is all about realizing that we are not completely in control of any human being, no matter what we like to think.

Or, most painful, someone we love dies, and we see nothing but devastation, when God knows that what is yet to be revealed is the awful beauty of clinging to Him and being enfolded in His arms when the world all around us goes mad.

It’s hard to see pain in the small picture and not assume that the big picture is nothing but more of the same. But only God truly knows how every detail in life fits into the masterpiece He is creating.

The picture that morning at Tuesday School looked like a desolate wasteland; really, it was an elephant. Maybe the small picture in your life looks like a desolate wasteland, too. But what is it really?

Could it be that what looks like a bleak, empty landscape is really part of a beautiful work of art such as only God can create?

It can be, and it is. You see, God takes what looks like ashes to us and makes something beautiful from them. God doesn’t create or allow ashes in our lives to no good purpose. He always has a plan, and His plan is always to His glory. The full picture He is designing is always beautiful.

So what do we do when all we can see is a two-inch-by-two-inch square, and that square looks useless, painful, or agonizing? We trust the Master Artist. We let Him compose the masterpiece. And we don’t worry if we can’t see the whole picture. One day, we will.

And it will be beautiful.

1 John 3:2—Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.

Isaiah 61:1-3– The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.

Backpack

My three youngest children attend a Parents’ Day Out Program twice a week. Recently, when I took them to school, I overheard the director saying she would have to find someone to teach the two-year-olds class that day. It turned out that the regular teacher had a scheduled day off. The director was able to get a substitute, but shortly before I got to the school, the substitute’s son threw up in his class, so she had to leave and take him home. This left the two-year-olds class without a teacher.

I told the director I would be glad to teach the class that day. She has known our family through the school for three years, so she accepted. I went home, packed a backpack full of Ellie’s homeschool materials, which I planned to go over with her during the children’s naptime, and took Ellie with me back to the school.

I parked the van, and we got out. I was thinking about what a beautiful day it was when Ellie asked me if I would carry her backpack. “It’s heavy,” she said.

“Sure,” I said, and swung it up over one shoulder. Ellie was right; it was heavy with all the things I had packed. I thought about how she would be glad that I was carrying it for her, and how she had known it would be no trouble for me.

I was struck then with how perfect a spiritual analogy the situation was.

God, our Father, is far more able to carry our burdens than I am to carry Ellie’s backpack. Yet too often, we struggle along, trying to shoulder our load by ourselves, only calling out to God when we are exhausted.

Why? I can think of two primary reasons. Maybe you can think of more.

The first reason is that somehow, we’ve gotten the idea that we should be able to handle things ourselves. Granted, there are times God expects us to take action rather than sit around, hoping the situation will change. But He is well aware of how much or how little strength we have. He knows what’s too heavy for us, and He wouldn’t expect us to bear our own burdens any more than I would have expected Ellie to lug a backpack that was too heavy for her into the school.

The second reason is that we don’t want to admit we need help. Maybe the idea of needing help is so threatening to our sense of self that we’re in denial, not even realizing that we’re sinking. Or maybe we know we’re sinking, but we’d rather go under than admit we can’t tread water.

Whichever your reason, it’s nothing but pride. Our pride tells us we can be sufficient on our own, if we try hard enough. But why is self-sufficiency even a desirable goal, anyway? For one thing, it’s completely impossible to attain. We are not self-sufficient apart from our Father, and we never will be. If we didn’t need God, we would be God, and we most certainly are not. We can do nothing apart from God, and it’s time we put our pride to death and acknowledge the fact.

Where are you struggling today? Where do you need God’s help, whether you want to admit it or not?

Let your pride go. Throw it away from you and beg the Father’s forgiveness, confessing His sufficiency and your insufficiency, asking Him to shoulder the burden for you.

Then, watch as He lifts it up, swinging it onto His shoulder as if it were weightless (which, to Him, it is). Let Him carry it for you. It’s what He longs to do. It’s what you long for Him to do. Will you let Him?

1 Peter 5:7—Cast all your anxieties on him, because He cares for you.

Loving Mommy

I don’t remember whether I hadn’t slept well that night, or whether I’d gotten to bed too late the night before, or both. But I do remember hearing the sounds of my son’s bedroom door opening and his footsteps coming towards our room, and having to force my eyes open. I was trying to become coherent enough to beg Kenny to “please go back to bed” when he pushed my door open and plopped down on the floor.

“Mommy,” he said, smiling up at me, “I had a great dream about loving you.”

Suddenly, I didn’t resent having been awakened anymore.

I was still tired. But I couldn’t have wished for any better or sweeter way to wake up.

I thought about his words many times that day, and I’ve thought about them often since. In fact, Kenny has told me almost the same thing several other times. Sometimes, he tells me he’s had a dream about loving me. Sometimes, as I tuck him into bed, he tells me that he is going to have a dream about loving me, and I know that as he slips into Dreamland, he expects it to be sweet with thoughts of me.

I love Kenny all the time. I love him every second of every day, even when I don’t much like what he’s doing or how he’s behaving. But when Kenny declares his love for me in such a precious, beautiful way? My heart can’t contain all the love I have for him, and it overflows.

I want to thrill God’s heart in the same way my son thrills mine. I want Him to rejoice in my frequent, heartfelt expressions of love. I know that’s what you want, too. So why don’t we do it?

Maybe we think we don’t have enough time to cultivate a love relationship with God. Some days, it seems we don’t even have time to locate our Bible, much less read it and spend in-depth time in prayer. Maybe it feels hypocritical to tell God we love him when we’re well aware of our inconstancy and sin. Maybe we’ve just never thought much about how God would feel if we were to tell Him we love Him as often and as meaningfully as we tell our children—maybe even more.

But whether we don’t make time for God, or we think we have to wait until we’re perfect to start expressing our love for Him, or we simply never think about it, we’re depriving God of the expressions of love that He deserves to receive from His beloved child and longs to hear.

If Kenny never told me He loved me, I’d begin to wonder if he really did. If he only expressed his love because he thought he should, I’d wonder if he really meant it.

Yet we sometimes limit our expressions of love for God to reciting the words of a song we aren’t really thinking about singing, or to intellectual assents to the fact that yes, we love Him.

Both singing and declaring the truth are important. But where are the spontaneous expressions of love, motivated not by what everyone else is doing or by what we think we should do, but by love?

Why do we not constantly pour out our love upon God, Who alone is worthy of it?

Oh, Father, forgive us for failing to express our love to You as we should. We want to love You with the passion with which You loved us, or at least come as close as a human being can. Father, we declare right now that we do love You, with all of our being. We’re grateful that You accept our imperfect love. Convict our hearts whenever we don’t love You wholeheartedly, and teach us that our greatest delight comes not in the earthly expressions of love that we receive, but in the love relationship between us and You. We want to spend the rest of our lives and then eternity loving You. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

2 Samuel 6:14—And David danced before the LORD with all his might.

Mark 12:30—And you will love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.