2009

Imperfect Angels

Because he goes to work in the afternoon, my husband usually doesn’t get home from work until after the kids and I are in bed. So, as a way of saying goodnight to him, I call him when I’m ready to go to bed.

The other night, I called his office, and the phone was answered by one of his coworkers (I’ll call him Bill). Both he and my husband—and everyone on their unit—deal with difficult children, children who either do have psychiatric problems or are perceived by their parents or other adults in their lives to have them. Bill said that it had been a particularly stressful day at work, with several difficult children, and that in fact, my husband was seeing one of them now.

I replied that my husband has told me that after a hard day at work, he is always glad to come home to our kids, because though our kids aren’t perfect, their misbehavior falls within normal limits for their age.

Thinking of his own daughter, Bill said, “Yeah, I have a little angel, compared to some of these kids.”

Once again, my perspective got a needed adjustment.

After a stressful day with my kids, it’s easy for me to focus on their misbehavior. I’m much more likely to think about all the things they did wrong that day than all the things they did right. My tendency is to adopt a nobly beleaguered attitude and to become irritable.

Can you identify with me? When you have one of “those” days, do you find yourself getting annoyed and wishing somebody really appreciated all you had to put up with?

Maybe we both need a perspective adjustment.

You see, a large part of the attitudes you and I have toward our children is simply a matter of the perspective we choose to take.

We can choose to take the “poor me, look what I have to put up with” perspective, and some days, we do just that. Granted, some days are terrible. There are certainly days where it seems that nothing goes right, where there’s conflict at every turn, and when the most common word from your mouth is “stop”. But even on the terrible days, our perspective is a matter of choice. Choosing the “poor me” perspective might get us some sympathy, but it sure won’t make the day better.

On the other hand, we could choose to take a radically different perspective. It’s the “it was a crummy day, but parenting these children is still a privilege” perspective. You see, even when your children are at their worst, it’s still a privilege to be their mom. Remembering that they are God’s gift to you will give you a far different perspective on their misbehavior than will feeling put-upon for having to “put up with” their behavior.

Consider also that there are children who are far more severe problems than yours. What Bill said is true for most of us. The behavior of our kids is nowhere near as severe as the behavior some parents have to deal with from their children.

I’m not saying that your children’s behavior should never annoy you just because some children are more difficult. I am saying that maybe their behavior isn’t as bad as you—as I—think it is.

This is awful, we find ourselves thinking. But is it?

You see, most of our children’s behavior isn’t any worse than our own.

My children sometimes complain and argue. So do I.

They sometimes fail to do what they are supposed to do. So do I.

More frequently than I would like, they display selfish, “me-first” attitudes. So do I.

I’m glad that God doesn’t find dealing with my misbehavior to be as much of a burden and an annoyance as I sometimes find managing my children’s behavior to be.

When I sin, God doesn’t roll His eyes and sigh, “Here we go again.” He doesn’t suddenly yell at me because He’s had it up to here with my attitude, young lady. And what a relief that He doesn’t get disgusted with me because if He’s “told me once, He’s told me a thousand times.”

No, God doesn’t dwell on our sins to the extent that He fails to see the good things we do. His attitude toward us is always positive, though he hates our sin. He parents us with infinite patience despite our repeated failures and infinite love despite the crummy attitudes we sometimes have toward Him.

You and I don’t have that kind of infinite patience. But we do have Him, and He has promised to help us when we need it.

So the next time you and the kids are having a bad day, stop for a moment. Just stop. Get off by yourself if you need to, even if it means locking yourself in the bathroom and ignoring the voices right outside the door. Remind yourself that it is a joy to have these children, even if it’s not a joy to have their behavior. If you really can’t feel joyful about it at the moment, ask God to help you have His joy in them. Ask Him to help you delight in them despite their behavior the same way He delights in you despite yours.

And thank Him that no matter what you do, He always loves you with his everlasting love and blesses you with His infinite patience.

Jeremiah 31:3– The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.

It’s Pretty

My daughter Lindsey has a compassionate heart. When she sees someone hurting or in need, she is quick to respond by doing something to try to make them feel better. Sometimes, she’ll bring them a toy she knows they like; other times, she’ll pat them, look very concerned, and say, “Poor Mommy,” or whoever the person is.

A couple weeks ago, my four kids and I were getting ready to go somewhere, and Kenny couldn’t find his jacket. “Where’s my Cars jacket?” he asked, obviously beginning to get upset.

“It’s at the Y,” Lindsey answered, remembering that we had left it there last time we visited.

“Now I’ll never have a jacket,” Kenny wailed.

I gave Kenny a hug and tried to help him calm down. Then, I realized Lindsey was entering the room holding one of her jackets.

“Here, Kenny,” she said, holding it out to him.

Kenny was not gracious in his response. “No!” he insisted, not wanting any jacket but his own.

“Aww, Kenny, she’s offering you her jacket,” I prompted, hoping for a kinder response.

“No!”

“Here, Kenny,” Lindsey repeated, holding out her size 3T jacket. (Kenny takes a 5T, or, at the very least, a 4T.)

“No!”

“It’s pretty!” Lindsey pleaded, holding the jacket out to him and sounding as if she were close to tears.

My heart broke for her at Kenny’s ingratitude, and I did my best to make it up to her. “Thank you so much for offering him your jacket,” I said kindly and gently. “That was really sweet. I guess Kenny is just going to go without a jacket right now. But thank you, darling.”

That seemed to work, enough for us to get going and for Lindsey to forget about the incident, at least as far as I could tell. But the rest of that day, and many times since, I have remembered the look on her face as she pleaded with him to accept her offering, and the anguish I felt on her behalf when her offering was refused.

You see, Lindsey wasn’t just offering Kenny her jacket.

She was offering him her heart.

Lindsey was showing her love and concern in the best way she knew how, only to have it rejected. Oh, Kenny, I thought, please see the magnitude of what your sister is offering you. Please take it.

But he didn’t. And it hurt her.

In a way, it’s the same with us and God. You and I have nothing to offer God that He really needs. He doesn’t need our jacket. He is completely sufficient in and of Himself. Everything we have came from Him, and is His, anyway.

But in a way, it’s very different. You see, God never rejects our offerings when they come from a heart of love.

Aren’t you deeply, profoundly desperately glad that when you bring something to Him, He doesn’t reject it because it’s not what He wants or needs? Even more, aren’t you glad that He sees the thoughts and intentions of our heart, and accepts those that come from love?

Our offerings may consist of nuking a jar of strained peas in the microwave, or reading the same bedtime story for the thousandth time, or ferrying yet another child to yet another activity. But if those actions are presented to God in love, He will accept them as a beautiful offering.

Thank your Father that He accepts you and your simple, childlike offerings. Thank Him that when you come to Him, He is ready to receive you.

More wonderful than that, He welcomes you. His heart of love responds to your heart of love, and He gathers you up in His arms.

“Thank you,” He whispers. “Thank you for the jacket.”

Psalm 51:17—The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

It’s All About Me

Children are born focused entirely on themselves and their needs, and they remain this way for quite awhile.

If you don’t believe me, consider this: when was the last time a two-month-old thought to herself, “You know, I bet Mom could really use some sleep. I’ve gotten her up three times a night for the past two months, so I’ll bet she’s really tired by now. Tonight, I’m not going to bother her when I wake up. I’ll just go back to sleep.” (Sure, some two-month-olds sleep through the night, but it’s not because they feel sorry for Mom.)

Or try taking a fork away from an older infant who has it clutched tightly in his fist. Chances are, he’s not going to think to himself, Hey, I could have poked my eye out with that. Good thing Mom took it away. Thanks, Mom! No, he’ll cry.

You see? You don’t have to teach your children to be selfish. It comes naturally.

Generally, selfishness in an infant isn’t a problem. It’s normal and natural. I’m quite certain that even Jesus cried as an infant when He was hungry and needed to be fed.

The problem comes when we don’t grow out of our selfishness.

Little babies are born believing that life is all about them, and for quite awhile, they see very little evidence to make them change their view. After all, someone else meets all their needs. All they have to do is express a need, and someone makes sure to meet it. Seems like a good indication that you’re the center of the universe, right?

The only problem is…it’s not true. You’re not the center of the universe.

If a selfish infant persists too long in thinking the world exists to meet her needs, she becomes a selfish child…then a selfish teenager…and, finally, a selfish adult.

We spend a lot of time and effort in our parenting to teach our children how to think of others. We teach them to share. We teach them to honor others. We even teach them that JOY stands for Jesus, Others, You. We teach love and compassion and outreach.

What is hardly objectionable in an infant—the belief that “it’s all about me”—becomes quite objectionable in an adult.

And as adults, who are supposed to know much better by now, we’re often guilty of being selfish ourselves.

Sometimes, we never lose that “me first” focus, or even a “me only” focus. Oh, we learn to cover it up better. We learn to ask polite questions of others instead of to talk exclusively about ourselves. We get accustomed to doing lots of little things designed to hide the fact that we’d rather the other person focus on us, instead of us focusing on them.

But are our hearts really in it? Do we do these things because we truly value others, or because we’ve learned how to be socially acceptable?

I’m afraid that, all too often, it’s the latter.

It’s bad enough when we treat others, even subconsciously, as if they are the means to make us feel good, or the means to fill us up, rather than unique, precious creations in God’s sight.

It’s worse when we act as if God is there merely to serve us, rather than the other way around.

We’ve all been guilty of it. We’ve all, on occasion, sought God for what He could do for us instead of for Himself. We’ve been guilty of going blithely on our merry way when things are fine, but then, when we need something, running to God…until He fixes things, at which point He fades to the back of our thoughts again.

Dear Mommy friend, do the same traits you are trying valiantly to train out of your children show themselves in your attitude toward others? Toward God?

We are all selfish at times. It’s part of being human. But that doesn’t make it excusable or acceptable.

Of all people Who ever walked this earth, Jesus would have had the right to focus on Himself and demand that others focus all their attention on Him, too. But He didn’t. Everything He did on this earth was designed to fulfill His mission and thereby bring glory to His Father. God the Father was the center of Jesus’ universe, not He Himself.

Friend, is God the center of your universe? Or are you?

Ask God to reveal the answer to you. You may be more selfish than you think.

I pray that you’re not. I pray that you are far less selfish than I am at times. But I suspect that even as mommies, who give and give and give, all day long, we all fail in this area at times. We all think of ourselves first, when we should be thinking of others, or of Another.

Lay your heart before God. Ask Him to show you whether there is any selfishness in it, and if so, where it lies. Tell Him you want Him to be the center of your world and of all your attention.

That’s what He wants, too.

Revelation 4:11—You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being.

John 15:5—I am the vine; you are the branches…apart from me, you can do nothing.

Mommy Math

I was never that great in math at school. Oh, I did fine in the elementary grades, when math pretty much consisted of the four basic functions as well as some story problems. I even did all right in some of the easier aspects of algebra. But when it came to the more advanced aspects of algebra, or anything beyond that—anything where you had to understand abstract mathematical theory and couldn’t see the whole problem right there on the paper—I struggled.

Languages were my strong suit. They came easily to me. Math? It was much more difficult.

There is one kind of math, however, in which I excel. I bet that, no matter what your math grades in school were, you excel in this kind of math too.

It’s called Mommy Math.

Traditional math—the kind we learned in school—is pretty restrictive. It’s much less creative. 2 + 2 always equals four. Story problems involve trains leaving different points in different directions at different speeds. There is only one right answer. If you and I have two different answers, at least one of us is wrong.

Mommy Math is different. Answers are flexible. Story problems are much more interesting. There can sometimes be two (or more) right answers. And it’s definitely much more practical.

Consider, for example, this Mommy Math story problem:

Mommy has thirty minutes left before company arrives for dinner. If Mommy has 3 young children and a 1600-sq.-foot house, how long will it take the children to mess up the entire house while Mommy is busy putting the finishing touches on the ham? Answer: two minutes. And it will happen right before the doorbell rings.

Or this one:

If you have three Hello Kitty utensils in the silverware basket in the dishwasher, handles pointing upward; two of them are forks and one is a spoon; and you have to draw out one of the forks if you have any hope of getting your daughter to eat what you’re about to put on her plate, what are the odds that the first Hello Kitty utensil you choose will be a fork? Answer: 0%. (Traditional math would say “2 out of 3”, but this would be wrong, because as any mommy knows, you would draw the unwanted spoon every single time.)

Or this oh-so-relevant one:

If you have four children and one husband, and you are trying to put a meal on the table that all six of you will eat, and Child #1 won’t eat anything with meat, Child #2 won’t eat anything that looks “weird”, Child #3 will choose one of the older two to copy in deciding what she won’t eat, and Child #4 won’t eat anything she liked yesterday; and if all you have in the kitchen is something that would take you an hour to prepare, which would ensure that none of the kids would eat it, how long will it take you to give up on the idea of eating a nutritious meal and fix mac-n-cheese for the third time this week? Answer: three seconds.

You see? I told you that you were good at this kind of math.

It takes some effort and studying to succeed at traditional math. It takes a whole lot more effort—and studying, and praying—to succeed at Mommy Math. That’s because Mommy Math is a lot harder. There’s not always one right answer, and even your best efforts to find an answer won’t always result in a good one. Sometimes, you’ll make mistakes, and you still won’t have any idea what to do to make it right.

Aren’t you glad God is never at a loss as to how to raise His children? Aren’t you grateful He’s never confused, like we are sometimes? Isn’t it wonderful that despite the vast differences in His children, He always knows exactly what to do for each one at any given moment?

Despite our best efforts, we flounder sometimes. We make mistakes. We sin. We get tired. We come up short.

But praise God, He never does any of those things.

Precious mommy, I don’t write this to make you—or myself—feel guilty. If you’re doing the best you can, and doing it with plenty of prayer and in God’s strength, He is pleased, and your efforts are enough.

I just want us all to remember what a wonderful heavenly Parent we have.

We often think of God as an authority figure, and He certainly is that. We even talk about His being our Father, but we don’t often stop to consider what that means.

Friend, it means that we have a Father who always loves us perfectly and individually. He always knows what’s best for us. He is always ready to take exactly the right action on anything concerning us. He knows when we need discipline, and when we need comfort. He knows when to encourage us onward, and when to let us rest. He is always available to us, no matter where we are physically, emotionally, or spiritually, and He never fails us.

Have you thanked Him lately for being such a wonderful Father?

Have you expressed your gratitude to Him for His parenting of you?

Mommy, I know that you do countless wonderful things for your children. I know you love them with all your heart. But even the most caring, loving earthly parent cannot match God’s perfect care and love.

As God’s children, we benefit from His perfect parenting. Let your heart respond in gratitude and love to God for this incredible blessing, and make sure you tell Him how you feel.

Psalm 117:2—For great is his love toward us, and the faithfulness of the LORD endures forever. Praise the Lord.

I Got a Blue!

That day, I stood at the stove cooking. (This in itself is memorable enough, but that’s not the point of this story.) My kids were in the living/dining area, playing. For a moment, I had some time to myself.

Then, I heard my son calling out excitedly and his footsteps running toward me.

“I got a blue! I got a blue! I got a blue!”

Kenny arrived in the kitchen, holding a Resurrection egg. (These are eggs that you use at Easter to help kids learn the Easter story. It was July, but I hadn’t put ours away yet since the kids enjoyed playing with them so much.) He held the egg up for me to see.

I don’t remember now whether I was just lost in my own thoughts, or whether I was tending to something on the stove. I do remember that I didn’t start to turn to him until after he was already standing there.

By the time I did start to give him my attention, he was running off.

I hadn’t been deliberately ignoring him, but I felt bad anyway. Even when I’m busy, I try to pay attention to my children whenever they have something special to show me. I want them to feel special and to know that I care about what interests them. This time, I had almost missed what Kenny was trying to show me. Another couple of seconds, and I would have missed it.

Two things come to mind as I think about this incident. The first is a bittersweet thought: our children won’t be this little forever. Someday, they won’t care anymore about showing us a blue egg…or a special rock…or a dirty feather. Those things will no longer interest them. Hopefully, by that time, we will have built relationships with them so that they still show us things—but those things will be different.

Today, it’s marbles and bugs and flowers.

Tomorrow, it’ll be makeup and driver’s licenses and SAT scores.

Oh, friend, don’t miss the precious treasures of today. If you do, you’ll miss out on more than blue eggs—you’ll miss out on joy.

And if you’re not interested today in seeing what they have to show you, they might not be as interested in showing you tomorrow.

The second thing that comes to mind with this memory is gratitude—gratitude to God the Father for never, ever being too busy or inattentive to pay attention to what I want to show Him. Sometimes, I’m “too busy” to tell Him things, but He’s never too busy to listen.

God never says, “Not right now. I’m busy.”

He doesn’t mumble, “Mm-hmm,” while not really listening.

And He doesn’t sigh and say, “Daddy needs to rest right now.”

Aren’t you grateful that our Father doesn’t suffer from the same human weaknesses we suffer from?

He’s never too tired to listen to one more prayer.

He’s never too preoccupied with His own needs to help us with ours.

He’s never disinterested in listening because he’s had a bad day.

Rather, He eagerly awaits hearing from us. He does everything possible to get us to share ourselves with Him. He even searches for us when we’re distant.

Friend, think of it, and praise God! The glorious, almighty God of the entire universe eagerly anticipates hearing from you. He invites you to come, He waits for you to come, and He rejoices when you do.

To Him, what you bring is never “only” a blue plastic egg—it’s a precious piece of yourself, and He loves it when you share yourself with Him.

We as earthly parents rejoice when our children share themselves with us, and God as our heavenly Parent does no less. In fact, He does more. As much as we want relationships with our children, God wants a relationship with us even more.

How incredible. How vastly incredible.

I don’t know how long it’s been since you spent time with Him, but spend some time with Him today. It may not be an hour of uninterrupted prayer and study, but God doesn’t necessarily require that. After all, He knows you’re a mom. He knows that the minute you try to sit down for some uninterrupted time with Him, your kids will find you. Maybe all you have today is a few seconds here and a minute there. Don’t waste them. Spend time with the Person Who loves you most, the One Who is most interested in you. Tell Him anything. Maybe you don’t have a blue Resurrection egg to bring, but you can bring Him what you have. Bring it to Him today. He’s waiting and eager to hear from you.

Ephesians 6:18—Pray…on all occasions with all kinds of prayers.

Making Comparisons

I’m a proud mommy. I think—no, I know—that my children are wonderful. They are marvelous, unique creations of God. Not only that, but they are also delightful to be around. They are special people—quirky, compassionate, curious, and funny. In short, they’re precious to me.

I’m sure that your children are equally precious to you, and that you love them as much as I do mine.

That’s how it should be. A mother should delight in her children and love them with all her heart.

But unfortunately, sometimes there can be a spirit of competition among mommies, where “my child is wonderful” turns into “my child is better than yours”.

You’ve heard the discussions:

Mommy #1: Sophia’s walking now.

Mommy #2: Oh, really? Stacey’s been walking for two months now.

Or:

Mommy #1: Brad is really enjoying soccer at the YMCA this season.

Mommy #2: We’ve had Tim in soccer since he was 2. He also plays basketball and football, and his coach says he might play for a college one day.

There’s nothing wrong with sharing our children’s accomplishments, including the things they are good at. The wrong comes in when we imply that our child is better because his skills are better.

Often, the comparisons we make between our children are out loud. Sometimes, they’re not (“My child would never behave that way at the store,” we think to ourselves). Whether spoken or silent, the comparisons are hurtful, because it trains our minds to value someone based on qualities or accomplishments, not on her identity as a valuable creation of God.

We make comparisons about ourselves as mothers, too.

We compare ourselves to some arbitrary, unrealistic standard and then get down on ourselves for not being able to live up to it. For instance? I’m not as pretty as other mothers, we think. Or, I should be able to manage three small children, keep a perfect house, be an untiring lover, and serve gourmet meals. Or, If she can do it, why can’t I?

Equally sinful is believing that we have attained perfection in a certain area and becoming prideful.

Oh, friend, do you see what’s happening here? When we make comparisons, whether about ourselves or about our children, we are not only tearing the other mother or child down, we are also eating away at our own soul. You see, we must never, ever, evaluate someone’s worth based on characteristics or accomplishments. Your worth is not because you are the most organized mom on the block, or because your kids are better behaved than someone else’s, or because you always look fashionable.

Let me say it again, sweet mommy friend—these things have nothing to do with your worth.

Absolutely nothing.

You are of inestimable value and worth because you are a creation of God. You are wonderfully made. God’s work in making you was and is marvelous. You are made in the image of God. You can take part in reflecting God’s glory. You are loved by God Himself.

That’s why you are of great price—not because you wear a certain hairstyle, or have a master’s degree, or your house looks like Martha Stewart lives there, or every other mommy on the block wants to be like you.

Your worth is always and only because God says you are valuable.

Think about it—the very God who made the universe says that you are important. Out of all the kinds of people He could have made, He chose to make you, because He wanted someone like you.

There’s no way that the right shoes or the right house or the right occupation can improve on that.

So take it to heart, mommy friend. Know that you are valuable and you are loved. Give yourself a break from comparing yourself to other mommies. You see, the comparisons really don’t matter. So what if you’re “more” than someone else? So what if you’re “less”?

God loves you, and He says that you are of great worth to Him. Let that be enough for you—because it’s everything.

Psalm 139:14—I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.

Walking Away

Two years ago, my family and I went to Branson, Missouri, to visit my mom and stepfather. At the time, Ellie was four, Kenny was two and a half, Lindsey was one, and I was a couple months pregnant with Jessica. One day, we decided to take the kids to a beautiful lake not too far from where we were staying. We loaded up all the gear we would need—towels, sunscreen, plastic inflatable toys, water shoes—and headed for the lake.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and it was warm, but not too hot (especially considering that we are used to Texas summers). The scenery was gorgeous. The water was perfectly clear. Best of all, since it was fairly early in the morning, there was only one other family at this little beach.

We staked out a spot and headed for the water. The two younger kids wanted to stay where it was still quite shallow, so I sat in the water as they played around me. We even noticed about a million little fishes that swam by just a little further out. Wow! Fish! Right there! The kids were excited, though a little scared.

My husband took Ellie on one of the inflatables out into deeper water, where he could pull her along and she could float. They were having a grand time, and so were we, playing together. It was all brand new to the kids. I felt so relaxed, sitting in the water and feeling it lap around me, being just the right temperature, enjoying the beautiful scenery in the sunny quiet, and being with the people I loved most in all the world.

All too soon, it was time to go. The kids were getting tired. So we got out of the water. I made sure the little kids were following me. Lindsey ran on ahead as we made our way towards where we had left our towels and other stuff. Kenny trailed behind.

Actually, Kenny was what we call “dinking around”—that is, not following promptly. I encouraged him one more time to follow me, and then I turned away and began walking—slowly—hoping he would decide to follow.

Instead, after I had taken a few steps, he began to wail.

I turned back to see him rooted to the spot where he had been when I turned away from him. He was wailing, the tears flowing down his face.

It was a clear that Kenny felt abandoned and afraid.

Immediately, I turned back. I went to him, hugged him, and then scooped him up into my arms, holding him close and saying, “It’s okay, Kenny. Mommy’s here.”

I carried him back to the van that way, secure in my arms, comforting him with my touch, my voice, and my nearness.

It wasn’t until later that I thought about how this reflects our relationship with God.

Sometimes, it feels like God is walking away, doesn’t it?

Leaving us behind. Abandoning us.

Maybe we’ve gone through a season of hurt where it felt like instead of being close to us, God was more distant than ever before.

Maybe it felt like we were falling further behind, getting more and more desperate, until finally we were so far behind we could only see God disappearing in the distance.

What do we do during those times?

Sometimes, we get angry. We get mad at God for not making us feel better. For letting us hurt. Fine, we think, walk away. I’ll make it on my own, if that’s what I have to do.

Sometimes, like Kenny did, we simply wail out our anguish, as God (we think) gets farther and farther away.

What should we do? What is the right response when we feel distant from God, and we’re afraid, and we desperately need him?

Do what Kenny did.

Cry out.

Wail out your anguish to God.

You see, if I, as a human mother, heard my son’s anguish, was moved with compassion in my heart for him, and responded, how much more will God, the perfect Parent, respond to our heart’s cry?

Dear friend, it’s true that sometimes, God won’t fix our situation. Sometimes, no matter how much we cry out, the pain and grief will not disappear. They are something to be worked through, not something to get rid of.

But though He won’t always respond by fixing our situation, God will respond with Himself.

You see, God has promised. And He cannot and will not lie.

When you need Him, cry out. He’s there. It may look and feel like He’s far away, but He’s as close as your heart, and ready to respond when you need Him.

Is life going well for you right now? Call Him. He’s there to rejoice with you.

Is life more painful than you ever imagined? Cry out to Him. He’s there to grieve with you.

Crawl into his lap, lay your head on His chest, and feel His loving arms around you, holding you close.

Or if you can’t even crawl, then just cry out.

He will come to you.

Psalm 55:17—Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice.

Love Them Now

I love my kids. I love spending time with them, and I love being a stay-at-home mom.

But sometimes…I find myself wishing.

I wish…he would be more interested in using the potty.

I wish…she would stop deconstructing the house every time I turn around.

I wish…he would stop whining.

I wish…she wouldn’t argue.

I wish…they would let me have an entire phone conversation without interrupting.

I wish…they would eat what I put in front of them—without complaining.

I wish…I wish…I wish…

Do you have wishes, too? Do you, like me, earnestly wish some things about your child or his or her behavior were different? Are you, like me, working very hard in some areas to help bring about the day when the behavior is put aside, or outgrown?

Oh, we think, when she stops doing this, life will be so much easier. Or, if he would just start doing that….

There’s nothing wrong with looking toward the future. In fact, as mothers, we must look toward the future. We need a perspective that says that this too shall pass. We need a perspective that helps us realize what is truly important, and what isn’t. We need an eternal perspective that reminds us of what will be important ten, or twenty, years from now, and what will be forgotten.

But let’s not focus so hard on changing our children’s behavior in the future that we forget to love them in the present.

Yes, our children will probably be a lot easier to deal with once a particular behavior is under control.

But this doesn’t mean our children will be any easier to love in the future.

Easier to get along with? Maybe.

But not easier to love.

You see, if we find it easier to love our children once their behavior changes, it reveals that our love has been performance-based.

Saying we might be able to love our children more at some point in the future, once they begin or cease doing something, is the same thing as saying that our love is based on their performance, not on their intrinsic worth as a marvelous creation of God and our precious child.

What you and I must remember is that love is not simply a feeling of comfort with someone. It is not mere approval. It is not even necessarily warm and fuzzy.

Love is action. It is a choice. It is a choice that can be made in any situation, even right now.

No, I don’t know how your children are behaving. But I do know they deserve your love. Right now. As they are. They need to know that they are loved and accepted, no matter how imperfect they are.

It doesn’t mean you always have to accept their actions, their attitudes, or their words. It means you always accept them.

Aren’t you glad that God didn’t wait until our behavior was perfect before accepting us?

Scripture gives us the incredible truth that God loved us and accepted us completely from the very beginning.

Did he accept our sin? Of course not. But even while we were still sinners, God sent his son Jesus to die for us.

God didn’t wait until we were holy before he extended love, grace, and acceptance to us. He didn’t wait until we had reached some level of perfection. He didn’t even wait until we had stopped doing certain things, or started doing others.

Instead, He loved us from the beginning.

Yes, part of his love means that he disciplines us, just as part of your love for your children means that you will discipline them and try to turn them from ways they shouldn’t go.

But make sure your children know deep in their souls that no matter what they do or fail to do, you love them, and God loves them. Not in the future, but right now.

And not just a little, but with all your might.

After all, God has done the same for you.

Romans 5:8—But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

At Our Own Speed

I love to read. In fact, I always have. When I was younger, I would become so absorbed in reading that I could sit reading for hours without getting up or changing activities.

My daughter Ellie is like that with computer games. She has certain sites she is allowed to visit and certain games she is allowed to play. She could sit for hours playing games, if allowed to, or maybe all day long.

One day, Ellie was sitting at the computer playing games when it so happened that Jessica needed her diaper changed. As I laid Jessica on the changing table, I remembered that her diaper stacker was empty of diapers. Fortunately, however, I had bought some more, and the box was right outside the bedroom door, which meant that it was in the computer area.

I called out to Ellie and asked her to bring me the package.

“Okay,” Ellie said.

I assumed she was coming, so I removed Jessica’s diaper and cleaned her up. I still didn’t see Ellie, so I called her name and looked in her direction.

Ellie was slowwwwly backing towards the bedroom door, her eyes still fixed on the computer screen.

She was obeying, but at her own speed.

I wanted her to obey me right away. The task I had asked her to do was important, even though it probably seemed like no big deal to her. I needed her to act immediately.

Instead, she took indifferent, slow action.

Friends, that’s the way we obey God sometimes, isn’t it?

At our own speed. Indifferently. Slowly.

Maybe when God gave the command, we responded instantly by saying, “Yes, Lord. I’ll do it.” But we remained caught up in our own interests, and the obedience we gave the Lord was distracted, at best.

Mommy friend, what kind of obedience do you want from your children when you ask them to obey?

Around our house, we have a saying that pertains to the kind of obedience my husband and I expect: “immediately, and with the right attitude”. You probably expect the same thing.

If we as parents believe that we can and should expect that kind of obedience from our children, how much better obedience must we acknowledge that God deserves?

And how much farther short of rendering him proper obedience must we acknowledge that we fall, even than our children fall short of obeying us properly?

Friends, we discipline our children for failing to obey promptly.

Do you realize that God disciplines His children for the same reason?

His ultimate goal is to conform us to the image of His Son Jesus. He knows that it isn’t good for us to determine the speed at which we will obey. We must learn to obey “immediately, and with the right attitude” for two reasons. First, He’s God, and He deserves it, and that should be reason enough. But second, we must learn to obey because it is good for us. If even Jesus learned to obey while here on earth, then why would we ever imagine ourselves to be less in need of learning to do so?

I wanted Ellie to obey me not only because I needed something done, but also because I know that she needs to learn to recognize my requests as more important than what she is doing, and to put them first.

It’s true that sometimes, I will make mistakes, perhaps even erring in how, where, when, or why I require her obedience.

But God never errs. Ever.

We know—you know, I know—that whatever God asks is right and good. Therefore, we should obey immediately, and with the right attitude.

It’s as simple as that.

Simple…but not easy. It’s not always easy to obey. But God even helps us do that. He gives us everything we need to perform that which He requires us to do. If we don’t obey, it isn’t His fault.

It’s ours.

Today, are your eyes fixed on God, waiting for His command? Or are they focused on your own pursuits?

Are you so deeply involved in whatever you’re involved in that it would be amazing if you even managed to hear God’s command, and to respond with a yes, much less to respond in a timely fashion?

Or maybe you hear God just fine. Maybe you know exactly what He’s saying. Maybe you’re just not willing to do it, or you’re too busy to do it, or you don’t care about doing it, so you let your own interests crowd out your obedience.

Oh, friend, if this is your situation, don’t waste another second. Get on your knees right now and ask Him to forgive you. Get things straightened out between you and God. Make sure both of you know Who’s in charge, and that it’s not you.

Then, get up and obey. Immediately, and with the right attitude.

Obedience to God will be far more pleasing to your soul than the pursuit of your own interests could ever be.

John 14:15—If you love me, you will obey what I command.

Sick

My daughter Lindsey is a cuddlebug. In fact, she always has been. She has always enjoyed close physical contact.

Sometimes, she wants to play. She loves being tossed, flipped, or spun. She loves climbing all over me if I lie down. She loves being tickled or “eaten”, which is when I make growling noises and pretend like I am eating her shoulders, her ears, or her cheeks.

Other times, Lindsey simply enjoys being close. Yesterday, I was sitting on the couch talking to one of the other children, when I realized that Lindsey was sitting right next to me. She had climbed up onto the couch and snuggled against me so easily and quietly that I hadn’t even noticed when she came. We sat like that for awhile, with Kenny later joining us, and it was one of the best parts of my day.

When Lindsey is sick, she seems to feel a special need to cuddle. She wants to be held close as much as possible. The most recent time she was sick, she wanted to lie on me and be cuddled.

Did she want fun and games?

No.

Did she want me to take her somewhere?

No.

Did she want horseplay and tickles?

Definitely not.

She simply wanted to be close to me when she was feeling at her worst.

When a child is sick, her mother’s presence and touch are the most healing therapies in the world. They’re even better than chicken soup. They’re better than 7-Up and crackers. I think they even do more good sometimes than medication (though there are certainly times where medication is necessary).

God designed it that way. He designed the relationship between mother and child in such a way that when the child feels sick, she wants her mommy. And He designed cuddling during times of illness not only to help the child heal, but to strengthen the bond between mother and child.

Do you know something? God designed the relationship between Him and His children—us—to work the same way.

When we feel at our worst, He is the One Who can (and will!) bring us the most comfort. Just as you welcome an ill child into your warm, comforting embrace, so does our Heavenly Father welcome His hurting child into His arms.

Had Lindsey refused my comfort when she was sick, she likely would have gotten better anyway. The difference is that if we refuse our Heavenly Father’s comfort, we may not get entirely better. We may wind up with unresolved pain that lingers long after the onset of the original hurt—sometimes years.

So why don’t we seek His comfort?

It could be that we’re afraid to face the pain, and we don’t realize that the pain will hurt worse apart from the Father.

It could be that we blame our Father for the fact that we hurt in the first place, and we let our anger keep us far from His comfort, when what we don’t realize is that with Him or without Him, the hurt would have happened, and what makes the most sense is for us to ask Him to comfort us through it.

Or, it could be that we anticipate a negative reaction when we come to him. Sometimes, we get this idea that we as Christians aren’t really supposed to hurt. We’re supposed to be able to bear everything with a smile on our face. If we can’t, we reason, it must mean we don’t have enough faith. So we don’t come to God for comfort because we can’t come “correctly”—that is, having handled the problem on our own first, in order to show Him…what?

Friend, if this is what you’re afraid of, then you’re misunderstanding God’s very nature.

When Lindsey was sick and came to me for comfort, I didn’t lecture her on how she should act when she is sick. I didn’t tell her that she was being a wimp and send her off to get better by herself. I didn’t even give her any reassurances on how she would get better eventually.

I simply held her and loved her.

If we can be so loving toward our children, and God is so vastly more loving than we are, why would we ever think we would receive anything less than a perfectly loving welcome? If we know how to comfort our children when they are sick, why would we think God wouldn’t comfort us in the way we need?

Oh, friend, how do you need comfort from God today?

I don’t know what is happening in your life. I don’t know the ways you might be hurting.

But I do know that God knows, and that He cares more about you than you could ever imagine.

Let Him comfort you. Climb up into His lap, and lay your head on His chest. Feel His everlasting arms around you as He simply loves you through your hurt with the nearness of His presence.

Matthew 7:11—If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!

Luke 13:34—How often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!