Manna For Moms

Devotions for Moms Like You!

2009

Soundtrack

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Sometimes, I wonder which memories will stand out when I look back on this time in my life. When my children are grown and gone, what will I remember from the days when they were young?

I was wondering about that not too long ago. It was a day when everything was going right. My heart overflowed with gratitude to God for the four precious gifts He’s given me, and with love for my children. As I watched them play, the thought hit me, as it has before, that one day, these days are going to be gone. One day, my children will be older, and these wonderful, magical years will have flown by.

Oh, I’ll admit there are days that seem far less magical than others. But right now, there is exquisite joy in watching them play, in seeing them run around the house, in hearing their childish requests, in being needed. My heart hurt at the realization that one day, I will no longer be able to cuddle them the same way I do now. I won’t see them running through my home, smiling and carefree, making their own endless entertainment. Everything will be different, and though I know that in some ways things will be even better, I also know that I will miss these times we have together now.

What will I miss most when I think back? I wondered, and the answer came: their laughter. I’ve heard their laughter so many times, and it has come to mean so much to me, that I can’t imagine being without it.

When the kids were smaller, I used to make it my goal to make them giggle wildly at least once a day, because kids deserve to be able to laugh like that. We still laugh together every day. We play games together, and we tickle each other. We tell jokes, and we share funny stories and discoveries. All of these are occasions for laughter. Sometimes, we laugh for no reason at all except delight in something, or in just being together.

Yes, there are times when the sounds in our home are not so pleasant. If you could listen to us, you would sometimes hear harsh words, anger, or frustration. But most often, you would hear laughter.

For our home, and hopefully for yours, laughter is like the soundtrack of a movie. When you’re watching a movie, you don’t usually notice the music because you’re paying more attention to the action. Laughter is like that. It plays unobtrusively in the background. It’s not as noticeable as the jarring notes of anger and disobedience, despite the fact that the latter make up only a few measures of the entire score.

At least, it should be that way. If it isn’t—if the dissonant, inharmonious notes comprise the main soundtrack, with the laughter making up only brief interludes—do something about that now, before intermission, or worse, before the end of the piece. You can change the composition in the middle. Turn it into a beautiful symphony that blesses you and all those around you.

But stop and listen a minute. Is that laughter you hear, playing in the background of your family’s life? Is your soundtrack already beautiful, even if you haven’t noticed? If so, praise God for its beauty. Thank Him for the laughter and the sounds of love and joy that you regularly hear around your home. Learn to listen for the sweet notes more than you do to the strident ones.

What do you hear in the soundtrack of your home?

Part of what you hear depends on the melodies the Composer has woven into His masterpiece. But part of it also depends on what you’ve learned to hear.

I pray you hear laughter.

Psalm 126:2—Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, “The LORD has done great things for them.”

Diligence

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My daughter Ellie is a good worker. For example, when I ask her to clean something, she does a great job, even down to the small details. Because she is six, however, there are times when it is difficult for her to stay on task.

Once, I had assigned Ellie a job to do. I went to check on her and found her doing something else. “Ellie, you’re supposed to be doing your job,” I said.

“I was,” Ellie said. She then explained how she thought that the thing she had stopped to do was helpful also.

I could see her point. She was trying very hard to be helpful, as she almost always does. But she needed to finish the work I’d given her.

“Ellie,” I said, “I expect you to do the job I gave you without letting anything else interfere.”

If only I performed the duties God assigns me in the same way I expect Ellie to carry out those I assign her. Too often, however, I allow other things to get in the way.

Usually, those things aren’t “bad” in and of themselves. Playing games, reading, and resting can be good—even very good. They only become bad when we allow our participation in them to distract us from our primary responsibilities.

Playing word games on the computer, which I love to do, might be a great way to unwind after a stressful day. It might also be sinful, if I were to allow my time on the computer to crowd out my time in the Word. Reading can be relaxing and edifying. It can also take up too much of my time, if I’m not careful, leaving me too little time to accomplish the other things I should be doing, such as taking care of my home.

What things tend to distract you from your primary responsibilities? Do you spend too much time shopping, talking to your friends, or even serving on church committees?

None of these things is intrinsically bad. But not one of them is worthy to be put ahead of our primary responsibilities.

What are our primary responsibilities? To answer that question, I borrow an answer from the Westminster Shorter Catechism. In response to the question, “What is the chief end of man?” the answer is, “To glorify God and enjoy Him forever.”

That, dear friends, is our primary responsibility: to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. We must not allow anything to interfere with that.

Is there anything that keeps you from the purpose for which you were created? Is there anything that makes it more difficult for you to carry out your assignment?

If something is already coming to mind, confess it to your Father. Tell Him you don’t want anything to interfere with your carrying out His purpose. If nothing comes to mind, but you have the feeling that there might be something, ask God. He’ll tell you. And if you’re sure that there isn’t anything, that you’re completely on track—well, make sure in prayer that you’re right. Sometimes we don’t even realize where we’re going wrong.

Whether you’ve been a Christian for a week or for twenty years; whether your heart is truly devoted to God, or whether it’s divided; whether you know what the next step is, or whether you have no clue—commit yourself anew to God. Lay your heart, life, and service before Him. Ask Him to help you keep your eyes focused on Him when the things of this world, or your own desires, try to turn you aside.

It’s much more than the right thing to do. It’s the first step in entering into the incredible life God offers you—a life where your greatest glory is glorifying Him, and your greatest desire is eternally satisfied in enjoying Him forever.

There’s nothing that’s worth turning aside from all that.

Psalm 119:37—Turn my eyes away from worthless things; preserve my life according to your word.

The Heart of a Lindsey

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You’ve heard it said that a brave person has “the heart of a lion”. This phrase describes someone who exhibits ultimate courage in the face of even the fiercest enemy, and who doesn’t give up, no matter what.

It’s true that lions are brave. They aren’t called “King of the Jungle” for nothing.

But I submit to you that not even a lion has a heart like my Lindsey.

Lindsey is an incredible kid in many ways. She’s delightful, quirky, funny, creative, compassionate…I could go on for hours. But today, the precious aspect of her that I want to share with you is her can-do, never-say-die spirit.

Lindsey has exhibited this quality hundreds of times. One of the most recent was less than two weeks ago. All four kids and I were outside. Kenny and Jessica were playing together, and Ellie and Lindsey were riding their bikes (both have training wheels) with me close by.

Lindsey has learned to ride without help, for the most part. She still falls down occasionally, but she gets up and gets going again. On this day, she fell, and she said, “I fall down a lot.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Everyone falls down when they’re learning to ride.”

“I fell down again,” she said a few minutes later, when the same thing happened.

“You’re doing great,” I said. “You can do it. I know you can.”

A few minutes later, Lindsey fell down a third time.

This time, she stayed where she had fallen, propped up and looking at me, her legs still wrapped around the bike. Her beautiful brown eyes looked especially large, her face serious. “I’m not going to give up, no matter what,” she said.

That, my friend, is the heart of a Lindsey.

It would have been much easier for Lindsey to say, “I didn’t know learning to ride a bike was going to mean falling down. Forget it. I quit.” But she didn’t. Instead, she realized that bumps and bruises were a part of the process, and she was willing to accept that. They weren’t going to make her quit.

I won’t give up, no matter what.

Do you and I give up? When start down a path we believe God has for us, only to encounter road bumps that throw us off the seat and pitch us into the dirt, how do we respond?

Granted, there may be times when God places obstacles in our path because we are riding in a direction He doesn’t want us to go. It requires prayer and discernment through the wisdom of the Holy Spirit to discern whether the roadblocks are meant to warn us, or are simply the result of living in a fallen world, where things don’t always go perfectly even when the course is right.

If they are the latter, we dare not give up. Why? Because we’ll miss out on the incredible blessings God has for us. Not only will we never reach God’s intended goal if we give up, but we’ll miss out on learning from the complications.

Why do we expect everything to be smooth sailing, anyway? More often than not in this life, there are difficulties. Why are we surprised, as if something strange is happening to us?

There are much better things in life even than pain-free roads. Lindsey is going to be a better person for having persevered through her difficulties to the day when she finally learns to ride a bike with no training wheels. She’ll be free as the wind, and it will all be because she was willing to undergo the training process.

You and I can be better people, too, for having endured the loose gravel (or even boulders) on our road. I don’t say that we will be better people, because it all depends on our response, on what we let God do in our lives with our difficult experiences. It could be that we wind up bitter and disappointed, angry at God and at the world.

Or it could be that we become beautiful, because by learning perseverance through suffering, we are becoming more like the Lord Jesus.

The obstacles you encounter may not be your choice. But the kind of person you become because of them, is.

I know that getting up and getting back on the bike hurts. Sometimes, getting spilled into the dirt leaves us with wounds that don’t heal easily, or maybe ever. But because of the beautiful, gracious mercy of God, we don’t have to get up in our own strength.

What do you think I would have done if Lindsey had lain in the road, crying piteously, “Mommy, help”? I would have done the same thing you would have—gone to her, picked her up, set her on her feet, wiped her tears, and helped her get going again. And if I, being evil, can love my child like that, how much more will our heavenly Father pick us up when we fall, wipe our tears, and help us get going again?

When you have no strength left, and no will even to rise, if you call out to God, His strength will be enough for you. He will do for you what you can’t do for yourself.

That’s what He did when He raised you from spiritual death to spiritual life.

And that’s what He’ll do in raising you from the side of the road.

Will you let Him?

I won’t give up, no matter what.

What do you choose?

1 Peter 4:12—Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you.

Psalm 61:2—From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

Paint Water

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Sometimes, as a mom, I make decisions that I’m afraid I might regret later. For instance, a few weeks ago, the kids and I went to Wal-Mart to buy some watercolors. I had passed some up at Target, hoping for a better price at Wal-Mart. So I promised the kids that on the way home from the Y, we would stop and buy the watercolors at Wal-Mart. The only problem was, Wal-Mart’s price was even worse than Target’s.

As I stood there thinking, “Now what am I going to do? I’ve been promising them paints. Okay, so a dollar difference isn’t that big a deal,” I noticed some other paints right next to the watercolors.

I don’t know what you call this kind of paints, but they’re the kind you have to dip a brush in, with no water involved. They’re thick, and goopy, and they look like if they spilled on your carpet, you might as well not even bother trying to get the stain up. I looked at these paints, and then, in a brief moment of insanity, I heard myself saying, “Hey, kids! How about these?”

“Yeah!” they shouted, and the deal was done.

We brought the paints home, and I’m happy to report that the painting went quite well. All four kids wore their “craft shirts” (cheap t-shirts I bought for a dollar each at Dollar Tree) to protect their clothes, and we had a vinyl tablecloth protecting the table. Nobody spilled anything on the floor, and nobody painted themselves or each other—much. The kids had a blast, and I deemed the project a welcome success.

At one point as they painted, I took the cup of paint water out to the sink and began to pour it down the drain. I watched the ugly brown water as it streamed from the cup, leaving a couple smears of bright colors on the inside where the paint hadn’t quite dissolved. I thought about how beautiful those colors had been in the hands of my children—the designers—but how ugly they were when messed up and mixed together.

It’s the same way with our lives. In the hands of the Designer—God—the colors of our lives are beautiful. They make not just pictures on plain white art paper, but masterpieces, created by the Master Artist.

It’s when we get involved and try to produce the art ourselves, that we mess things up.

From where I stood at the kitchen sink, I couldn’t see my children’s paintings. I was completely unable to see the pictures, but I trusted that they looked nice, at least to the designers, and that was enough for me. Oh, if only we would do the same with God. If only we would realize that the picture looks just like the designer wants it, and accept that, without trying to paint it ourselves.

We would never presume to tell Monet, if he were still alive, how he should paint. Much less would we ever take the brush from him and start completing the work ourselves. Yet we do this very thing to God, for one of two reasons. Either we don’t like the way He’s making the picture, so we try to make it turn out the way we want it to be, or we look only at the paint water, which is ugly, and we therefore assume the whole thing is a wreck.

But when God paints, He never makes a mistake. When He is allowed to paint without interference, His designs are always grand and glorious. It’s when we try to straighten out His work that we mess the whole thing up.

Friend, you and I are not the Master Artist. God is. Let’s trust Him that He knows what He’s doing, and cooperate with Him.

After all, what do you want? Do you want a picture that looks like an amateur painted it, or do you want a masterpiece?

Isaiah 55:8-9— “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Swinging

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Like most children, mine love going to the park. They enjoy being outdoors and roaming free. They have a great time climbing and sliding. But most of all, they love the swings.

Recently, I took them to a new (to us) park. They had their choice of novel play equipment to conquer, an open field to run around in, or trees to climb. They ignored it all and headed straight for the swings.

I can understand why. After all, what’s not to love about swinging? When you swing, you get to soar higher than you can on your own. You swoosh through the air with the freedom of flying. You experience adrenaline and excitement. You savor the thrill of soaring up, up, up until all you can see is blue sky. You have to swoop back down, but you don’t mind, because you know that in a minute, you’ll fly again. Your grin is huge, your joy boundless.

“Faster! Faster!” you beg, and your mother or father pushes you higher until you are breathless with laughter. The ride is wild and crazy and endless.

Until…it ends. Maybe that’s the only thing that’s not to love about swinging. Because all too soon, your mom or dad says, “It’s time to go home.” You have to slow down and drag your feet in the dirt until your swing stops. “Please just a little longer?” you beg. But the answer is no. You get off and trudge to the car, leaving bliss behind, and you go home with your mother or father.

The Christian life, too, is a wild, joyous ride. You start out small, before the pushes really get you going. With help, you get to where you are pumping your legs with all your might and swinging in extended, graceful arcs. Rocketing upwards brings such joy that you almost forget you ever have to come down.

But unlike a park swing, plummeting downward in life is usually painful. You hope it lasts only an instant, but sometimes, an instant turns into an eon. You slow down, and you don’t have the strength in yourself to get going again. You know it’s going to take someone to push you, to do for you what you can’t do for yourself. Why is it taking so long? you wonder. Why do I have to stay down here, when I want to be up there?

But then, just before forever, you realize that you’re swinging again. Cautiously, you pump your legs, and you find yourself swinging higher. You feel the pushes at your back, you pump harder, and before you know it, you’re once again experiencing the thrill of soaring into the sky. Maybe it’s a different kind of thrill now. Maybe you appreciate it even more, because you know what it’s like to hang motionless at the bottom of the arc. Maybe now, instead of bringing giggles to your lips, the thrill brings profound joy to your soul.

And then, just like swinging at a park, one day, the wild ride is over. You descend from your arc, and you know that it was the last time. Your swing begins to slow, because the pushes aren’t coming anymore. You hear the words from behind you: It’s time to go.

Scuff. Scuff. You drag your shoes in the dirt, and slowly, the scuffs get closer together. Finally, your swing stops. Your ride is over. You loosen your hands from the chains. As you get off, you stretch out your hand. Your Father takes it. And you go home with your Father.

Only this time, you don’t leave bliss behind. This time, you get to enter into a bliss more wondrous than you’ve ever imagined. The ecstasy of being home makes the joyous ride on the swings pale in comparison.

Because the swings were never your home. Even when your ride was at its height, you weren’t home. You had the privilege and pleasure of enjoying the ride for awhile. But it was never the true ride. It wasn’t the ride you were made for.

Precious friend, don’t get so caught up in the dips and swoops of swinging that they become everything to you. They are nothing more than how you pass the time until you get to go home. Someday, the One standing behind you and urging you onward and upward is going to stand in front of you. You’ll get to see His face for the first time. And then your ride begins…when you get off the swings and go Home.

Revelation 21:3b-4—God himself will be with them and be their God. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.

2 Peter 3:13—But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.

Because

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I was on the way to the YMCA with my three younger kids when the discussion turned to certain children’s characters who are dressed inappropriately. Lindsey commented that one of her friends had a backpack with these characters on it. “But they’re inappwopwiate,” Lindsey said.

We’ve talked about these characters before, but I thought it would be a good idea to reinforce the lesson. “Do you know why they’re inappropriate?” I asked.

“Yes,” Lindsey said.

“Why?” I asked, curious to see what she would say.

“Because you don’t allow them,” she said.

As far as Lindsey knew, the reason the characters were inappropriate for her was because of how I felt about them. It didn’t matter what my reasoning was, and it probably didn’t even occur to her to wonder. The fact that I didn’t allow them made them inappropriate, and that was sufficient for Lindsey.

Do you and I accept restrictions from God that easily? When He tells us something is inappropriate, is His word enough for us?

It should be.

Instead, we often accept His word grudgingly. Okay, I don’t agree, and I don’t like it, but since He’s God, I’ll have to accept it.

Or we try to make Him justify His reasoning. Why can’t I do that? That’s unreasonable. This doesn’t make sense, God.

Sometimes, we simply refuse to accept the restrictions He places upon us. This is nothing more—and nothing less—than blatant, open rebellion. Sin. I know what your command is, God. But I will not obey.

What do these three sinful reactions have in common? First, they all question God’s judgment. They all imply that if God would just think about it, He would realize that our way is better than His.

Second, they all reveal a complete lack of understanding that God only does things for our good. We tend to think that anything unpleasant must be bad for us. That isn’t necessarily true. Sometimes, the things that are most unpleasant bring us the greatest good. When God withholds something from us, we see it as His withholding the good, when in fact, the Bible clearly teaches that He will withhold no good thing from us.

However, the Bible also teaches that He withholds no good thing from those whose walk is blameless. Just as we sometimes withhold privileges from our children as a consequence for their behavior, so God may withhold something from us as a consequence for what we’ve done, or to get us to change our behavior. Something may be good in and of itself, but it may not be good for us to have it at a particular time. It may be better for us to do without it for awhile, or forever.

How, then, should we respond when God places a restriction upon us? We’ve already said that we shouldn’t respond by railing against it or by refusing to accept it. So what is the right response?

The right response to anything God does is always the same—loving, trusting acceptance, and voluntary submission to His will. Does God always expect us to like what He does? Of course not. But even when we don’t like something, we can say to Him, “God, I don’t like it. But because this is your will for me, I accept it. I know that somehow it fits in with your purposes, so I accept the portion you have assigned to me. I want to bring you glory through this.”

When the world sees us fighting against the God we claim to love and serve, or disregarding His wishes entirely, what kind of message do you think they get?

On the other hand, what message do they receive when they see us accepting His will, even when it’s not necessarily what we want?

What impression of God are you communicating to a watching world? Are you showing them that He is a God worth following, whose judgment is beyond question?

Or are you showing them that you think your judgment is equal to or better than His? That unless His ways please you, you won’t follow?

Oh, friend, I pray it’s the former for you. And I ask you to pray that it’s the former for me.

Psalm 84:11b—No good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.

Isaiah 55:9—As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Oops

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When she was twenty months old, my oldest daughter received a Fisher-Price Little People Noah’s Ark set for Christmas. My sister bought it for her, and she bought not only the original ark set, but also all the extra sets of animals that went with it. So Ellie wound up with the ark, a flag to go on top, and twelve pairs of animals.

The ark came in two pieces. The top piece included the little shelter on the upper deck of the ark, and the deck itself. The bottom piece was the “boat” part, into which Ellie could put all the animals. The two pieces clicked together, and they came apart by means of pushing a little catch under the upper deck. For a long while, Ellie had trouble getting the pieces apart so she could get the animals out.

One day, she brought me the ark, wanting me to open it for her. I pushed the little red button, and the pieces came apart. I handed them to her, loosened from each other but still put together in an ark shape, so she could have the pleasure of succeeding at taking the roof off by herself.

Only…she dropped it, and twenty-four animals spilled all over the floor. “Uh-oh,” Ellie said, and looked at me.

You’ve had that kind of moment—when your child looks at you, waiting for your reaction so that she knows how to react. I admit that I’ve blown it sometimes in those moments, but this time, I got it right. “Oops!” I said in a funny voice, making a silly facial expression. Ellie grinned, and the whole thing became funny.

How easily it could have been different. If I had sighed, and said, “Oh, Ellie,” with a disgusted tone in my voice, she probably would have cried. (Yes, I’ve done that before.) If I had said nothing and simply bit my lip, or maybe rolled my eyes, she would have known I was angry. (I’ve done that, too.) But this time, I reacted appropriately, recognizing the situation for what it was—an accident, and potentially funny—and handled it that way. That allowed Ellie to laugh, too, and we now have a good memory instead of a bad one.

Aren’t you glad God always reacts rightly to the things we do? He never overreacts. He never reacts inappropriately, such as becoming angry when anger isn’t the best response. He always responds in the way that is completely right, considering what it was we did, and how that fits into His plans for us.

God will know when what we did was an accident, and He will react appropriately. That means He won’t condemn us for it. He may need to teach us something so it doesn’t happen again, or He may want us to realize the seriousness of our mistake. But He won’t condemn us.

God also knows when what we do constitutes sin. He is well aware of it when we deliberately disobey and choose to do something we know full well we shouldn’t do. During those times, He also reacts appropriately, to secure our repentance and better conform us to the likeness of His Son. But He doesn’t condemn us.

What? Not even when we sin?

Not even then. You see, for those of us who are Christians, Someone has already been condemned for our sins. Instead of condemning us, which we would have richly deserved, God chose to condemn His perfectly righteous Son. In His holiness, God had to punish our sins. But in His infinite love and mercy, He chose to punish Jesus instead of us.

Friend, when you snapped at your children and deserved to be punished, God didn’t punish you, because He had already punished Christ in your place.

When you harbored resentment in your heart against your husband and deserved to be punished, you escaped punishment because Jesus already got what you had coming to you.

When you…well, fill in the blank with anything you’ve done, and realize that the reason God didn’t punish you for it was because Jesus already took what you deserved.

So if you’ve made a mistake…come to God. He won’t condemn you. He knows it was a mistake. He doesn’t expect you to be perfect, in the sense of never making an honest mistake.

If you’ve sinned…come to God. He still won’t condemn you. Why? Because all the condemnation you and I ever deserved, He heaped upon Jesus as Jesus was dying for us on the cross.

If you’ve sinned a LOT (and who of us hasn’t?)…if you think that God can never forgive you for one sin, or for many…if you just don’t know how to make life right anymore…if you’ve given up…come to God. Admit what you’ve done. (Remember, He already knows it anyway.) Tell Him you’re sorry. Then, receive His merciful, all-sufficient forgiveness. If you’ve never done this before, and you know you need to do it, there’s a section on this website, “How to Know God”, that can help you. Or call a pastor. Or a trusted friend who’s a Christian. Or e-mail me through this site. But get right with God today. It’s the only decision you can ever make that there’s no possibility of regretting.

Friend, will you allow me to pray with you now? Whether or not you’ve already accepted Christ? Whatever your sins may be, or have been?

Oh, precious heavenly Father, thank You. Thank You that you don’t give any of us what we deserve, but that instead, you shower us with your unlimited mercy. Thank you, precious Jesus, that you were willing to die in our place, taking the condemnation we deserved, so that we didn’t have to. Oh, Lord, if anyone reading this doesn’t know You, I pray that You will bring them to know You. I also pray for my precious sisters in Christ and ask You to encourage their souls with the truth of Your forgiveness and mercy. I thank You, and I praise You, for your kindness and goodness. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Romans 8:1—Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

2 Corinthians 5:21—God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

1 John 1:9—If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to purify us from all unrighteousness.

Winning

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At three and a half, my son, Kenny, loved learning to do the things Daddy did. Once, while my husband was shaving, Kenny climbed up on the closed toilet seat, which was next to the vanity, and began trying to “shave” his own face with a spoon he’d brought for the purpose.

Oh, he still loved to cuddle with me and to do some of the things I did, but he was old enough to know that he was a boy like Daddy was, and his God-given instincts told him that he should learn to be like Daddy.

He was also convinced (and probably still is) that Daddy could do anything. Daddy was the best, the fastest, and the tallest. And Kenny knew in his heart that if he tried hard enough, he could be just like Daddy.

I don’t remember the exact circumstances on this particular day. All I remember was that Kenny wanted to race. The girls and I were there, too, and Kenny wanted to beat us to the van, or wherever we were going.

He even had a strategy. He was going to hold Daddy’s hand. “I’ll hold Daddy’s hand so I can run as fast as him, and maybe we can win,” Kenny said.

What a beautiful strategy, for three reasons.

First, if there was going to be a race, Kenny wanted to race with his daddy. “I’ll hold Daddy’s hand,” he said. He intended to link himself to his daddy so that they could run the race together. He knew that being on Daddy’s team was his best chance of winning.

Second, Kenny believed that if he held daddy’s hand, he would be able to run like Daddy. Kenny knew that by himself, he wouldn’t win the race. But linked with Daddy, he would be able to run like Daddy could because Daddy would make it so.

Third, with Daddy, he believed he could win. He trusted his father’s ability to lead both of them across the finish line first.

Friend, do we relate to our heavenly Father as beautifully as Kenny related to his earthly one? Do we want to be with Him in this race called life? Is He our first choice for a teammate, knowing that we have to run? If we are honest, most of us would say that there have been times we have chosen a friend or family member to be on our team, with God in the background to be a consultant if we get stuck. But as Kenny joyfully chose his daddy and joined his team, so should we choose to be on our heavenly Father’s team. This means more than just accepting His invitation to become a Christian. It means staying on His team, choosing Him repeatedly, as many times as things come up, to be the One to run with us toward the finish line.

Kenny also believed that his daddy could make him enough like himself so that Kenny could win. I can’t think of a better statement of God’s purpose for us. His goal is to make us like Himself by conforming us to the image of His beloved Son, so that we can win, thereby showing forth His glory. And that, precious mommy, is winning—being like Him. If we’re like Him, we have won.

What race are you running today?

Whether you’re racing against loneliness, grief, temptation, disappointment, physical illness, stress, or lack of sleep, do what Kenny did.

First, choose to run with your Father. Don’t choose someone else to run with, and leave God to stand on the sidelines, cheering you on. Run with Him.

Second, believe and trust that God can do more than anything you ask or imagine in making you like Him.

Finally, remember that when you are like Him, you win. Your circumstances may not change. In fact, they may be very bad, or even tragic. But if you define winning as being conformed to the likeness of Jesus, then you can win in the midst of loss.

And running with the Father, you will.

Ephesians 3:20-21—Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Loving Two

Megan Breedlove 0Comment

Shortly before my first child was born, I quit work to begin staying home. When she arrived, at six pounds and five ounces of precious perfection, I was thrilled. All the effort that had formerly gone into my career, I now put into my relationship with my daughter and being the best mom I could be.

We took walks together, played together, and listened to music together. I was delighted with everything about her. Ellie was bright and curious and fun to be with, and she was beautiful. Not only that, but she was a great sleeper. I was completely in love.

Nine months after her birth, I found out I was pregnant again.

My husband and I had wanted to become pregnant, and we were elated that it had happened. So I expected the excitement. What I didn’t expect, as my due date drew closer, were the mixed feelings about giving up my time alone with my precious firstborn.

By that point, Ellie was almost eighteen months old. She could walk and run, and she could even talk quite well for her age. She was full of personality, and we had really bonded.

I had mixed emotions about bringing another baby into the house. On the one hand, I was very excited. On the other hand, I was mourning the loss of my and Ellie’s special one-on-one time together.

And, if I was being completely honest with myself, I also had to acknowledge one nagging worry: how could I ever love a second child as much as I loved Ellie?

Friends of mine who had more than one child told me they didn’t know how it worked exactly, but God gives moms enough love for each child they bear. You don’t love the first one the most, the second one a little less, the third one less than that, and the fourth one not at all. It’ll happen, they assured me. Don’t worry.

I tried to take their advice, but I still wondered. Would it really happen? If so, how?

I found out how when Kenny was born. Maybe it’s more accurate to say that while I didn’t find out how, I found that every word of what my friends had said was true. I loved him as much as I loved Ellie. Somehow, instantly, it was true. I hadn’t yet built a relationship with him as I had with her. That would come later. But my love for him was there now, just because he was there and he was mine.

Aren’t you glad that God loves His subsequent children as much as He loves His first, too?

Aren’t you grateful that God has just as much love for you as He does for the first Christian?

And what a blessing it is to know that because of the never-ending nature of His love, God will have as much love available for your child as He has for you.

Let me offer you an even more incredible thought.

Isn’t it absolutely astonishing that God loves us as much as He loves Jesus, His firstborn?

It’s easy for us to acknowledge the all-surpassing love God has for His Son, Jesus. That’s different, we think.

But it’s not. Friend, the same overflowing, boundless love that He gives to His Son, He extends to you and me.

Can you even begin to wrap your mind around that amazing fact? That God loves you fully and completely, as much as He loved His Son, Jesus?

You see, God so loved the world that He gave His Son to die for us and redeem us. He would not give His precious Son on behalf of people He didn’t care about.

Human words aren’t adequate to describe the extent of God’s love for us. For you. For me. But God’s Holy Spirit is adequate.

Bow before Him now. Ask Him to help your spirit to absorb His love. Let it begin to trickle into the tiniest corners of your soul, until it fills you up and permeates your entire being. And even then, you will not know the full extent of it.

But oh, friend, if we can grasp even the tiniest spark of God’s love—if we can begin to realize just how much He loves us—it will change us completely.

Ask Him to help you realize His love in a way you never have before. Your life will never be the same.

John 3:16—For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Safety

Megan Breedlove 0Comment

My youngest, Jessica, is fascinated with how things work and what she can make them do. She loves watching us use a particular object, then trying to do the same thing with it herself. She also likes to figure things out on her own.

A couple months ago, I was sitting at the computer, and Jessica was crouched on the floor nearby playing with a toy. She wasn’t really familiar with it, and she was exploring it. After whacking on it in various ways for awhile, she suddenly hit the wrong button, and the toy started playing really loud music.

Immediately, she straightened up and came running the few feet to me, wanting up in my lap. I picked her up, and she looked back at the toy, giving it a wary glance.

I reassured her that everything was okay, and she soon got down and began playing with the toy again. It wasn’t frightening anymore, because she knew what to expect.

But when she was scared, she did exactly the best thing, in terms of what would produce the most immediate, best comfort: she ran to her mommy. Her first instinct was to seek comfort from me.

Do our instincts work the same way? When we are frightened, is our first reaction to run to the arms of our heavenly Father?

Often, it isn’t. We call a friend, or we read a book about fear, or we try some other technique we learned somewhere to take our mind off our emotions. There’s nothing wrong with doing any of those things, but why are they our first reaction? Why don’t we seek God first?

I’ve caught myself many times remembering to seek God in a particular matter only after I’ve sought counsel from others. Sometimes, it feels like I simply must talk to someone else about whatever happened, and I pick up the phone. Why do I think any human being can give me better help than God can?

Sometimes, God does touch us through others. I can think of times when God has ministered to me through someone else’s words, and I’m sure you can think of times when you’ve been ministered to in this way, too. But I don’t want God to be an afterthought. I want Him to be my First thought.

I want to seek Him as instinctively as Jessica sought me when she was scared. She didn’t take time to call a friend or read a book, and it wasn’t just because she doesn’t know how to read or use the phone. It was simply because when she was scared, she wanted Mommy. I want my seeking God when I’m troubled to be equally instinctive.

You see, whether we realize it or not, we need Him as desperately as Jessica needed me that moment. Not just when we’re scared, but every moment of every day. I want seeking Him to be as natural for me as breathing is. I want it to be both my first thought and my last, and to color every thought in between.

I know you do, too.

Let’s both do something this week. Let’s bow before God and confess our utter insufficiency in and of ourselves, and His complete sufficiency. Let’s tell Him that we want Him to be our “best thought, by day or by night”—that we want to live in an attitude of seeking Him. Then, let’s ask Him so to change and order our hearts and minds that we seek Him as naturally as we seek our next breath.

Beloved, nothing could make more of a difference in our lives, or be more worthwhile. Because the incredible thing is, when we seek Him, He has promised that we will find Him. He will reveal Himself to us. I guarantee that no phone call, no book, could ever satisfy you more.

Psalm 73:28—But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds.

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