Mine

Three days ago, my husband and I were overjoyed to learn that we are expecting Baby #5. In our excitement, we began calling family and friends to share the good news. Naturally, we wanted to tell our four children also. The only problem was that we wanted to tell all of them together, and two of them were off at day camp. So we waited until after the camp awards ceremony, when we were all in the van, ready to head home.

“Kids, Daddy and I have some exciting news,” I said.

All four of them looked at us. “What is it?” Ellie asked.

“Today, we found out that God has put another baby in Mommy’s tummy. In a few months, you’re going to have another baby brother or sister.”

Lindsey’s face lit up, and her mouth dropped open in excitement. Jessica looked like she wasn’t sure what to make of the news. Ellie shouted, “Yay!”

“We don’t know yet whether it’s a boy or a girl,” I said, “but we’ll find out in a few months.”

“If it’s a boy,” Kenny asked sweetly and hopefully, “will it be mine?”

I smiled at his question. “Cuz if it’s a girl,” Kenny continued, gesturing at his sisters, “it would kind of be theirs, right?”

Kenny knew that a boy would look like him, so he figured that meant it would be his. He understood what it means to belong to someone because you share his image.

That’s the same way we belong to God. Genesis, the very first book of the Bible, tells us that God decided to create us in His image. In other words, in some ways, we look like Him. True, we don’t look exactly like Him. For one thing, we’re not God. For another thing, sin has marred His image in us. But in some ways, just as a brother would unmistakably resemble Kenny, we resemble our Father.

What exactly it means to bear God’s image is open to debate, but I believe it means primarily that we think, feel, and act like Him. He has allowed us to possess most of His characteristics in some measure (except those attributes related to His deity), and He wants us to show them to the world.

If, at the end of February, I bear a son, anyone who looks at our family will recognize the resemblance between my baby and Kenny, a certain fundamental sameness, more even than that which he would share with his sisters. Likewise, if someone looks at us, they should see the resemblance to God.

And that’s the thing: people will assume they are seeing the resemblance to God. In other words, those who don’t know Him well may very well think that since we and Christ bear the same name, Christ must be like we are. If we’re unloving, many people won’t believe that we’re the ones acting contrary to the family characteristics; they’ll assume that God is unloving too. Fortunately, the reverse is also true: if people see that we truly love them, they’ll be much more likely to believe that God does, too.

Think about that this week. When people see how you and I act, what will they believe God is like? Will the family resemblance they see make them want to know Him?

I pray that the answer is yes, in your life and in mine.

John 13:35—“By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.”

Let’s Go

Yesterday, I took Ellie and Kenny out with me to purchase several items they will need for camp which starts today. We had a list, and most of the trip went pretty well. The only difficulty was trying to find water bottles with a strap, which apparently don’t exist. And who knew I wouldn’t have to buy my kids water guns after all, because while they wanted to squirt other people in the giant Waterpalooza, they didn’t want anybody to squirt them. (I was going to buy the big ones, too. The Uzis of water gun-dom. Rats.)

Actually, being with just my older two felt oddly freeing. They’re much better at staying close to me than their younger sisters are. Unlike Lindsey and Jessica, they rarely need to be reminded of our motto for public behavior: calm and close. Whenever I was looking at one display or choosing a product off the shelves and got ready to move on, all I had to say was, “Let’s go,” and they immediately came with me.

I know; I should have been grateful for that much. And I was. But I remember at one point thinking that it would be even nicer if Ellie and Kenny were paying attention to me and followed me without my even having to call for their attention. Realistically speaking, if I want them to learn to do that, I will have to tell them, “Your attention needs to be on Mommy so that you will see me when I start to go somewhere else and so that you can follow.”

In other words, I would have to tell them the same thing God tells us.

“Focus on Me,” He says. “Do what I’m doing.” When God wants to move us off in a different direction, He shouldn’t have to get our attention first. Our attention should already be on Him.

Often, it isn’t. We’re far too easily distracted by interesting things we discovered. God gets ready to lead us somewhere else, and we’re so entranced by the Transformers or the Squinkies we don’t notice He’s moving on until He calls our name. That kind of level of paying attention is fine for children with their mother in a store. It’s excellent, even, since they heard me the first time and obeyed immediately. But it’s not good enough for us with our Father. Our eyes should be constantly upon Him so that we’re instantly in tune with where He’s going and what He wants to do.

Granted, sometimes it’s hard to see Him. Sometimes we’re doing our best to look straight at Him, but it seems like we can’t find Him. We’d love to follow Him if we could only figure out where He was going. But other times, the only reason we don’t know is because we’re not paying attention. In that case, our focus is all wrong.

If you’re like me, it’s easy to lose ourselves in the busyness of the day and wind up focusing far more frequently on laundry, discipline problems, and sticky jelly messes than on the Lord. But just because it’s easy doesn’t mean it’s okay. Yes, we need to pay attention to the tasks in life He’s called us to—but not to the exclusion of paying attention to Him.

Where is your focus today? Where is mine? If God gets ready to move, will we notice?

Psalm 123:1—To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens!

**For more encouragement on practical ways to stay focused on God, check out the How to Grow Closer to God page of this website.**

In Heaven

Some days, heaven seems like such an ephemeral concept. I’m fully convinced that one day, one of two things will happen: either I’ll close my eyes on earth and wake up in heaven, or the Lord Jesus will return for His faithful at His Second Coming. But in the midst of the ordinariness of life down here, heaven sometimes doesn’t seem very tangible to me.

Please don’t misunderstand: I believe that heaven is real. I believe it’s an actual, physical place I will one day inhabit by the grace of God, along with others who have loved His Son and longed for His appearing. But does heaven feel real to me? Not always.

You see, the greatest thing about heaven is not just that I’ll get to avoid going to hell, which is also very real. The most mind-blowing thing about heaven is that I’ll get to live in the presence of God for all eternity and see His face. And that’s the difficulty. My mind is blown.

When I try to meditate on what it will be like to see the face of the One who died for me, I can’t truly comprehend it. I feel as if I’ve touched the lapping water at the edge of the seashore without being able to wade in. I’ve had a taste of the ocean, but venturing farther would overwhelm me.

Other things about heaven, however, are easier to grasp. Revelation 21:4 tells me that after God wipes all the tears from my eyes for what happened on earth, I will never cry again. Neither will heaven hold any more death, mourning, or pain in store for me.

Now that, I can imagine! I enjoy my life on earth—a lot—but it’s not perfect. At times, pain has intruded, and I’ve been hurt. I’d love to live in a place where I knew that would never happen again.

In heaven, I will, starting with the redemption of my body. I won’t feel physical pain anymore. I won’t get sick or suffer from allergies, the flu, or something worse.

My body will never be weak or tired. I’ll never have to haul myself through another day, weary beyond belief. I’ll never lack the energy to do the things my heart desires to do.

I won’t need bifocal contacts anymore. My knee won’t ache when the barometric pressure changes. My body won’t deteriorate as I get old. I’ll become—and remain—physically strong, healthy, and whole.

Not only that, but I’ll be emotionally unbroken. Instead of experiencing pain when I think about what was done to me, or what failed to be done for me, I will rejoice at God’s grace in carrying me through.

In heaven, I’ll never be rejected by someone whose acceptance I longed for. I’ll never be lonely. I’ll never be left out, misunderstood, or brushed aside. I won’t hurt anyone else, either.

I’ll never try my hardest and still fail, or find that my best efforts weren’t good enough. I’ll never be frustrated, discouraged, or at my wits’ end.

I won’t struggle to relate to God anymore. I won’t sin.

My heart will never be broken on my children’s behalf because of what they have to endure, because they’ll be there with me in that perfect place. My Savior is their Savior, too.

What will I be able to do? I’ll be able to eat my fill of bread without worrying what it will do to my blood sugar. I’ll be able to run from here to there without asthma squeezing my chest so tightly I can’t breathe. I won’t be allergic to strawberries.

I’ll get to be with most of the people I love forever. I’ll meet some I never met on earth, including my precious babies. I’ll relate to some people like I’ve always wanted to on earth, and I’ll talk with them in ways I’ve only dreamed of.

I’ll never have to say goodbye to loved ones ever again. I’ll never have to grieve over losing them, because there will be no more death in that place.

I will be constantly, completely, infinitely loved as the person God created me to be, and I will feel loved. Forever. For all eternity.

A heaven like that, I can imagine. That kind of place seems real.

I consider myself abundantly blessed in this life, but if it weren’t for the fact that my family needs me, I’d be ready to go Home now. As good as life can be at times, I’m more than ready to leave the shadowlands behind and enter the brilliant perfection of the Home I was made for.

Until then, when pain and grief assault me and I long for something better—something more—I’ll trust God to carry me through. Because one day, this life will be over, and I’ll be alive in ways I’ve only imagined.

I can’t wait.

Revelation 21:4—He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.