Manna For Moms

Devotions for Moms Like You!

August 2015

Can You Be Jealous Fairly?

Megan Breedlove 0Comment

envyWhy does she get to be so beautiful?

Why does she get to have such a nice house/car/husband?

Why does she get to be so talented/popular?

We’ve all wondered why that one certain person seems to have everything going for her, while our own life is falling apart. We’ve asked ourselves—or asked others, or complained to God—about why people who don’t seem to deserve it get “all” the blessings.

Why not me? is what we really want to know. Why don’t I get that?

It’s tough to see someone else getting the things we desire. The things we put all our energies towards, but can’t seem to attain. What about me? our heart cries. Why not me?

We’re jealous.

We don’t like to admit that, because we know jealousy is a sin. We try to pretend we’re not jealous. We try to squash the jealousy down so we don’t have to confront it. We plaster smiles on our faces and pretend like it’s not eating at us.

But it is.

We become jealous (or its close cousin, resentful) because we want what others have.

Sometimes, that is. You see, we don’t always want what others have.

Here’s what I mean. We ask why someone else gets (fill in the blank here with the name of the thing we want). We never ask questions like these:

Why does she get to be only 53 years old and dying from ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease)?

Why does she get to bury her son, who is dead by his own hand?

Why does she get to live in a shelter, because her husband was abusing her and her children?

The questions at the top of the page are questions I have struggled with in the past. I’ve never asked myself the three questions above this paragraph.

All of these situations—ALS, a child’s suicide, and spousal abuse—are circumstances that friends of mine are currently facing. Yet I’ve never asked why I don’t get things like that.

We take blessings for granted, and we don’t spend much time being thankful for them. Instead, we ask why we don’t get the things we want.

But the real question is not, Why doesn’t God give me the things I want?

The real question should be, Why does God spare me from the terrible things I don’t want?

The first question leads to a sense of entitlement. The second leads to a deep, profound gratitude.

Why don’t I get some of the things I want? I don’t know, but this, I do know: I also don’t get some of the things I really don’t want. And those are the things that are more important.

A large, pretty house? Nice…but not as big a blessing as my health.

Physical beauty? Nice…but not as big a deal as physical safety.

Being talented or popular? No comparison to having my children alive and here with me.

If you want to ask why you don’t have what someone else has, be fair about it: Ask that question in regards to everybody.

You will find that you are grateful that you don’t have what others have far more often than you are jealous.

Hebrews 13:5—Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (ESV)

Story Lines

Megan Breedlove 0Comment

handsFive years ago, as I was taking a shower, I reached for the shampoo.

It was an action I had taken thousands of times before, and which I’ve repeated thousands of times since. But that particular moment on that particular day became forever etched on my memory.

I reached for the plastic bottle, and for some reason, I looked at my hand. Really looked. And I thought, This is not the hand of a young woman.

I wasn’t what most people would consider old (I was 39). But no longer was I young. At least, not according to the lines I saw in the skin of my fingers and the back of my palm.

Once, I had been young enough that my skin was completely smooth, my hands unmarked by the passage of time.

Not anymore.

As I stood there in the shower contemplating the changes in my hands wrought by time, I began to consider the changes in the rest of my body, too, from the time I had been born, up until now.

For instance, there are two patches of skin that is slightly lighter than the rest of my skin. One patch is on the top of my right ankle, in the bend between my foot and leg. The other is on my right knee. Both are there because when I was a child, I kept falling and skinning my knee and ankle, so many times that the skin became forever changed.

These changes tell a part of my story.

So do the sagginess of my tummy and my C-section scar. They tell about the carrying and birthing of 5 children.

The calluses on the soles of my feet bear witness to all the places my feet have taken me, from Australia to the World Trade Center, to hospital rooms and funeral homes, to parties and celebrations, libraries and grocery stores and the Playland at McDonald’s.

The increasing number of gray hairs in among the brown ones makes the point that I have lived long enough to have gray hairs.

The lines in my hands are there not only because I’m growing older, but because my hands have done so many things: tended sick children, typed emails or books or papers, held and swung a racquetball racquet, played the piano, fixed innumerable PB&J’s, gripped a steering wheel, changed diapers.

My increasing lack of flexibility (I used to be able to do the splits) reveals not only that I’m aging, but that I don’t often have time to exercise as I’d like to.

The texture of the skin on my face, if you look really closely, will tell you about the times I struggled with acne.

Some of the freckles on my back and shoulders are there because of sunburns I got in the midst of having wonderful fun.

None of these things is an imperfection, or something to be despised; all are simply results of the way my body has changed as it has told my story.

The Apostle Paul wrote, “I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus” (see Galatians 6:17). I realize that the context is different; he was talking about the abuse he’d suffered for Jesus’ sake. But the marks on my body testify of Jesus, too. They display His creativity and goodness in ordering my days. They tell my story, which is really His story. His plan. His design.

I anticipate more changes as I age, and that’s okay. I don’t regret the way anything has changed so far. And while I don’t exactly look forward to my hearing or eyesight declining, or my energy fading, I do anticipate the way that even these things will reflect the life God has planned for me.

And I look forward to the day when, by God’s grace, I will sit with my grandchildren at my feet, and I’ll say, “Do you see these wrinkles? Let me tell you what they represent—the beautiful story of how God brought them to be.”

My hands may no longer be the hands of a young woman. But they are my hands.

They are my story.

Proverbs 20:29—The glory of young men is their strength, gray hair the splendor of the old. (NIV)

And to the Mothers of Young Children, Write…

Megan Breedlove 0Comment

pen and paperThe first part of the book of Revelation actually begins in a pretty run-of-the-mill manner. No dragons, no incredible creatures, no language that is hard to understand. Just the Apostle John, being given a revelation and taking dictation for a letter from God to each of 7 churches.

The letters all follow pretty much the same format, with God being the speaker: “Here’s what you do well. Here’s what you do wrong. Repent.”

I wonder what God would say to us as moms?

I bet it’s very different from what He would actually say.

We think that if God were to write us a letter in the same style He wrote to the churches in Revelation, it would go something like this:

To the mom in that too-small house in suburban Cleveland, write: I know your deeds. You got up in the middle of the night last night and gave your child cough syrup. But this I hold against you: You make plain, uninspiring meals. You let your kids eat junk food too often. You can’t throw a birthday party that is fit for Pinterest. You get impatient. You’re not as creative as the other moms in your child’s preschool/homeschool co-op/dance class/soccer team. Your kids refuse to eat anything unless it’s covered in ketchup. You don’t understand Common Core (or, if you homeschool, you don’t do enough projects). You need to start doing a better job, or else!

We assume that God might find some small thing to praise us for, if He looked really hard and wasn’t that picky. But He’d have plenty of things to tell us to do better.

Maybe that’s because we find it much easier to see our flaws (real or perceived) than to celebrate our successes. And if we can see them, then God can certainly see all that we see, and then some. Since His standards are perfection, and we’re far below that, then, well, how many good things could He really have to say about us?

Yes, God’s standards require perfection—in terms of sin. But not in terms of making honest mistakes, failing to know everything there is to know about raising kids, or possessing only minimal abilities to help your child with his science project. This kind of imperfection is in no way sinful, and we shouldn’t feel guilty about it.

Yet before I tell you what kind of letter I think God would write to us, let me be very, very clear: I do not claim that these words are directly inspired from God. I am simply sharing with you something I imagine God would say to us, something in keeping with Biblical truth and His character. I do not claim special revelation. Nonetheless, here is the letter, and with this, I will close:

To the mom who finds it far easier to see what she does wrong than what she does right, write: I know your deeds. You got up in the middle of the night last night and tended to your sick child. You do that every time your child needs you. You change the sheets on your child’s bed every time she has an accident—again. You choose meals for her that you hope she will enjoy. You make the hard choices for your child—which friends? which clothes? how much media time? when’s bedtime?—and you’re willing to let your child get really angry at you, because you know you’re doing the right thing—or at least, you’re trying, and hoping you’re doing the right thing.

You buy soap and shampoo for your child. You wash his clothes. You give up sleep to tend to him, and you’ve given up the hope of ever eating a hot meal or taking a shower in peace and quiet for at least the next 16 years. You’ve been to the ER more than once, and the pediatrician thousands of times. You sacrificed your own career to stay home with your child—or you work really, really hard outside the home so that you can earn money for the things your child needs.

You’ve spent money on children’s prescription medications and gone without your formerly regular trips to the beauty or manicure salon. You’ve become willing to become known as “so-and-so’s mom” rather than your own name. You’ve forgotten what you every used to talk about with your friends before you had children.

I love all these things about you. I love them, and I love you, and I’m thankful that in this way, you feed my sheep.

But this I have against you: You try to do it all in your own strength. You fail to realize how much I could help you, so you go on struggling in your own power. You don’t come to Me for the physical strength and soul strength I would pour out upon you if you would just ask.

I’m willing and eager to help you, Daughter. Come to Me for everything you need. Let Me tell you what an incredible job you’re doing. Let Me make you confident and reassure you with My love. You are beyond precious to Me.

Scripture basis: Revelation 1-5, various citations

Delighting in Showing Love

Megan Breedlove 0Comment

hugWhen I was preparing to drop Timmy off in the church nursery, I wasn’t preparing for a God-moment. I was thinking more about would he balk at going inside this week and I’m already late; how can I make this happen quickly? But a God-moment is just what I got.

As Timmy entered the nursery, willingly this time, one of the younger boys (I’ll call him James) was seated at a nearby table coloring. He looked up as Timmy entered the room. “Bubby!” he said excitedly. (I found out later from his mom that he calls all boys Bubby.) “Bubby!” he repeated two or three times, a huge grin on his face. Then he scrambled down from his chair and came around the end of the table, arms outstretched toward Timmy.

Timmy looked puzzled for a moment, then (thank you, God) reached his arms out towards James. They hugged each other and stood clasped together for a few seconds before James stepped back and smiled up at Timmy.

My heart was full. I loved it that someone was so excited to see my son, and that it obviously made his day for Timmy just to walk through the door. And I loved it that James’ delight compelled him not only to greet Timmy enthusiastically and smile, but to get up and hug him—to do something about his feelings.

You know, I bet God feels the same way when He sees us showing delighted love to one of His children. We all want our children to be accepted and loved, and God is certainly no different. He delights in love; He is love. And when He sees us acting toward one another as we were meant to act, He rejoices—not just because we obeyed Him, but because He knows that His children will reap the benefits of each other’s love, just as Timmy reaps the benefit of James’.

In fact, during the Last Supper—the last real chance Jesus would have to share anything extensive with His disciples—He made it a point to give them a new commandment. Love one another, He said. He went on to say that in this way, a watching world will know by our love for one another that we are Jesus’ disciples. We usually interpret these sayings as if Jesus had said this: Love one another, because that way, everybody will know that you are My disciples.

But there’s no “because” in the original Greek. What I think Jesus meant was this: Love one another. I want each of you to receive love from one another, so treat your brothers right. And if you do, this will be so revolutionary that everybody will recognize that you belong to Me.

You know how you feel when someone shows love to your child? That’s how God feels when His children receive love, too.

So, let’s be practical. Whom can you reach out to today? To whom can you show your love, and delight in their presence? Whom can you come alongside and encourage (which is another form of love)?

When you do any of these things, you will not only touch the heart of the person receiving your love and encouragement, you will touch their (and your) Father’s heart.

It doesn’t have to be something big. Sometimes all it takes to show love is a text, a hand on a shoulder, or a listening posture (without being on some electronic device at the same time) as they talk.

Will you do it?

John 13:34-35—“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (ESV)

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