2015

What You Did for Jesus Today

mac n cheeseLet me just say right now that I’m not Martha Stewart. I can’t fold a napkin into the shape of anything (well, except a rotisserie chicken, but that’s another story), I don’t know how to arrange flowers, and my idea of a gourmet meal is when I not only prepare macaroni and cheese for my kids, but I also fix a vegetable to go with it.

But I served Jesus today.

I’m also not Michael Jordan (I’m definitely not talented at sports), Faith Hill (I sing well, but I could never make a living from it), or Bill Gates (I’m neither rich nor technologically astute).

But I served Jesus today.

I’m not Billy Graham. I don’t draw tens of thousands to a stadium (and millions more on television) to hear me speak. I will never have as much influence on the world as Billy Graham does.

But I, too, served Jesus today.

Today, I made sure Jesus had clean clothes to wear and a nice, filling breakfast to eat. I laughed with Him and played games with Him. I drove Him where He needed to go. I showed Him kindness, patience, and respect.

How did I do all these things, since we know that Jesus has ascended to heaven, where He sits on the right hand of the Father (see Acts 2:33)? It’s not like He’s down here bodily for me to do these things to and for Him.

Or…is it?

One of the most precious passages in all of Scripture involves Jesus telling His followers that whatever kindnesses or acts of service they showed to other human beings, they showed to Him (see Matthew 25). In other words, Jesus is saying (if I may paraphrase), “Whatever you do for another human being, you do for Me. It’s not just that I appreciate what you’ve done, but that I take it personally.”

Every time I consider Jesus’ incredible words, I’m blown away. Do You really mean that when I changed that diaper, cuddled that child, or read that story for the umpteenth time, I did those things for You? That you took it so personally, it was as if You were the one sitting here next to me while I read to You?

Of course he meant it. Jesus never says things He doesn’t mean.

The implications are mind-blowing. They lift the sometimes humdrum, routine life of a mom from seeming insignificance (at least in the world’s eyes) to a position of incredible glory.

Even Billy Graham, as much as he loves the Lord and as public a ministry as he has, is no greater a servant of Jesus than a mom who also loves Jesus and spends her days taking care of Him through her hands-on ministry to her children.

Did you ever think of it that way? That you have as incredible a ministry as Billy Graham does? Or as any Christian author who’s sold billions of books, or Christian recording artist who fills stadiums with people who want to hear his or her worship music?

That’s because the greatness of your ministry doesn’t depend on the world’s opinion of its significance. You serve Jesus Himself all day long, in some life-sustaining and very physical ways.

Stop and make a list right now (either on paper or in your head) of all the things you have done for Jesus today. Have you cooked for Him? Tended to His medical needs? Educated Him, academically or spiritually? Given Him a bath? Helped Him get dressed? Celebrated with Him?

Others may have served Him in more public ways today. But no one served Him more directly or intimately.

The following is a poem I wrote several years ago (back when I had two children instead of the five I now have) reflecting what Jesus showed me about serving Him. I pray that God will use it to change your perspective as much as He changed mine.

Loving Jesus

I started my day early,
Before the room was light.
I lifted my son from his crib
And wished it was still night.
But as I held him close and said,
“Hi, Kenneth, precious one,”
I knew that as I greeted him,
I greeted too God’s Son.

When my daughter woke up later,
Calling, “Mommy! Mommy! Down!”
I picked her up and hugged her
In her worn Elmo nightgown.
I know she felt the closeness
That a mother’s touch affords.
I welcomed not just Ellie,
But so, too, the Lord of Lords.

That day, I mixed some formula
And opened jars of peas.
I fixed some “pizza butter” bread
When she grinned and said, “Pleeeeease.”
I heated up some leftovers;
I had to nuke them twice.
And when I fed my children,
I was feeding Jesus Christ.

I made some funny faces,
And “played puzzles” on the floor.
I dressed kitties, ran around outside,
And played with them some more.
We laughed and jumped and tickled,
Making memories to be stored.
When I spent time with my children,
I spent time with my Lord.

I wiped up sticky cereal
And washed the dishes clean.
I straightened, picked up, put away,
And dusted in between.
I did six loads of laundry
And folded it like new.
When I cleaned for my children,
I cleaned for my Savior, too.

When my children were both crying,
I held them in my arms.
I cuddled them and whispered
That I’d keep them safe from harm.
I told them how their Father saved them
With His perfect Lamb.
When I comforted my children,
I comforted I AM.

Later on that evening,
I put them in the bath.
I washed their little bodies
As they kicked around and splashed.
I dried them in soft towels
And put their jammies on.
When I had washed my children’s feet,
I’d washed the Holy One.

I cooked and cleaned and rearranged,
Made beds and taught and played.
I made sure that we had food to eat
And that we often prayed.
I died to self. I made a home
From ordinary things.
But when I served my children,
I served the King of Kings.

To some, I have done nothing,
But to two, I’ve done the world.
I made eternal difference
To my precious boy and girl,
And to the One who watches over
Every pathway that I’ve trod.
For when I’ve loved my precious children,
I’ve loved Almighty God.

Matt. 25:40—“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (NIV)

The Gift of Laughter

Easter FailI love to laugh. There’s something spirit-cleansing about a good, unbridled belly laugh. And when you laugh so hard that tears roll down your cheeks—what a blessing to the soul!

So the other day, when I followed a friend’s Facebook link and found absolutely hilarious results that made me laugh until I cried, my soul was abundantly blessed. My kids came up beside me as I watched, and they laughed too. Laughing together with my children—what a blessing, indeed!

What was it that we thought was so funny? Well…it was a set of photos of Pinterest fails. In case you’re not familiar with Pinterest, I’ll tell you what I told my kids: Pinterest is a site where people post pictures of things they think are special in some way. The idea is to make those things yourself. A Pinterest fail, therefore, is when someone tries to make something but it doesn’t come out right. Sometimes, in fact, it comes out very wrong.

Lest you think we were being cruel by laughing at people’s mistakes, let me assure you that the creators of these fails had submitted the pictures themselves as a fail. In other words, they were saying, “Hey, I know this didn’t come out quite right. Laugh with me!”

And we did. We laughed in empathy (we’ve all had things turn out not like we hoped) and outright hilarity.

That time of being together and laughing together was a gift. And, like all good gifts, it came from God (see James 1:17). Too often, without even realizing it, we buy into the mistaken notion that being a Christian is nothing but serious business. While it’s true that we must take our relationship with Jesus seriously, it’s also true that it’s okay to laugh and enjoy the good gift of humor that God gave us, and even to look for opportunities to laugh.

Did you realize that there’s humor all throughout the Bible? For example, in the book of Genesis, when Rebekah is riding a camel on her way to meet her future husband Isaac, most translations state that she “got off” her camel, or something similar. But in fact, the Hebrew word can be translated “fell off” her camel. In other words, it’s possible that she looks up, sees Isaac, and is so stunned that she falls right off the camel. (See Genesis 24.)
Another example of humor is found in 1 Kings 18. The prophets of Baal and the prophet of God, Elijah, are having a little contest. They have made an altar and laid a sacrifice upon it. Each “side” is supposed to call upon its God to come down and consume the offering. The prophets of Baal called out repeatedly, but with (obviously) no answer. Then Elijah starts a little trash talking. “Cry out louder,” he suggests. “Maybe your god is busy. Maybe he’s sleeping and can’t hear you. Or maybe he’s in the bathroom!” (Yes, the Hebrew phrase used there is a euphemism for using the toilet.)

I could go on and on, because there are many equally humorous examples found in Scripture. You see, you and I are not the inventors of humor. God is. He’s given us a wonderful gift to use.

Yes, sometimes we use it wrongly. We laugh at someone else’s expense, or we laugh at inappropriate things. But humor, properly used, is a blessing from God meant to be enjoyed. In fact, He has promised that humor will benefit us—as much as medicine, sometimes.

Why not thank God for this incredible blessing? (Not convinced it’s an incredible blessing? Try to imagine a world where there was no humor.)

Then find something funny and appropriate to laugh at—and rejoice at this good and perfect gift.

Proverbs 17:22—A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones. (KJV)

When You Feel Like You’ve Failed

FailThis past Valentine’s Day, the kids and I attended a party sponsored by our homeschool co-op. One of the party activities involved a contest to see which child had decorated his or her Valentines box the best. Ellie, Kenny, and Jessica brought the boxes they had designed the night before and placed them in the appropriate age groups for judging.

It was sometime after the awards had been given out (none of my kids won) that Jessica came to me and said, “Mommy, Kenny’s crying.”

I found him in the backyard (you can have backyard parties in February in Texas), curled up in a chair, tears running down his face (Kenny is on the autism spectrum and has difficulty controlling his emotions).

“What’s the matter, Kenny?” I asked gently.

“I didn’t win!” Kenny wailed. “I worked so hard, and I didn’t win!”

I understood how he felt. I’ve failed in life, too. Some of my failures have been over things that didn’t mean that much to me; others have come in areas that mattered a lot. I’ve grieved and wept. You’ve done the same over your failures.

So did the Apostle Peter. After three years of living with Jesus, walking with Him, following His example, and observing the incredible things He did and taught, Peter must have figured He was pretty devoted to Jesus. That’s why when Jesus (only hours before His arrest and crucifixion) told the disciples, “All of you are going to desert me,” Peter said, “No way, Lord. Not I.”

“Yes, you,” Jesus said. “In fact, before the rooster crows twice, you will have denied me three times.”

“Nope,” Peter said confidently. “Even if I have to die for you, I’ll never desert you.” (See Matt. 26:31-35.)

Yet only hours later, Peter was weeping bitterly over his abject failure, which happened exactly as Jesus said.

I don’t know what your failures have been, or how you’re struggling with failure now. But I do know how Jesus responds to your failure, and to mine, because Scripture tells us how He responded to Peter.

When the women came to the tomb on Resurrection morning, they found an angel, who prefaced his message by saying, “Go tell Jesus’ disciples and Peter….” Through the angelic messenger, Jesus was making sure to tell Peter (who, Jesus knew, felt utterly ashamed and miserable over his failure) that Jesus not only knew he needed special comfort, but still counted him as one of the group. That despite Peter’s denial of Jesus, Peter hadn’t lost his relationship with Him.

Later, while Peter and some of the other disciples were fishing, Jesus appeared on the beach and prepared breakfast for them. After the disciples joined Him, He began asking Peter, “Do you love me?” He asked Peter three times—equal to the number of times Peter had denied Him. Each time, Peter answered that he loved Him. And three times, Jesus recommissioned Peter for service. Despite Peter’s failure, Jesus wasn’t finished with him yet, and He let him know it.

It’s the same thing He wants us to know, because He isn’t finished with us, either. Jesus died so that He could have a relationship with us, not so that He could wait until we messed up and then reject us. He died for the sins He knew we were going to commit—precisely so that, when we did commit them and were truly, heartbrokenly sorry, He could say, “We’re still good, and you’re not done. There’s a second chance (or third, or fourth, or ten thousandth) waiting for you.”

Not because we deserve it—but because He’s merciful and gracious. And because He promised.

Lamentations 3:21-23— Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (NIV)

When Sausage Rolls Don’t Fly

Sausage rollsThis past Saturday, I found myself wide awake while everyone in the house still slept. It was kind of nice, getting to sit on the couch and read a book all by myself, with no one interrupting me just as I got to a good part.

For a few minutes, at least. Soon, my son Kenny made his way into the living room, flopped into our hunter green, overstuffed recliner, and said, “Hi, Mommy.”

“Hi, Kenny,” I said.

And the house was back to being quiet again. Ahhhhh. I knew Kenny would be content to lie there quietly for awhile. I could either continue to read, or…I could go make a memory.

“Hey, Kenny,” I said, “want to go get donuts?”

We made a quick donut run, arriving back home with a large box and a bag. There was one donut and one sausage roll for each person in our family. Kenny started right in on his, and as the other kids got up, they each dug into their portion.

Timmy, my three-year-old, was halfway through his sausage roll when he brought it to me. That is, he brought me the mangled dough that had been wrapped around the (now absent) sausage. He laid it down right next to me.

It sounded like what he said (with his left cheek puffed out like a chipmunk’s because it was stuffed with the rest of the sausage roll, and his mouth full too) was, “I want it to fly into my room and come back.”

“You want it to fly into your room and come back?” I repeated, not sure I’d heard correctly.

“Yeah,” Timmy said, staring down at the remnants of the dough. After about five seconds, still looking at it, he said dejectedly, “It’s not going to fly.”

I guess he had to learn at some point that dough doesn’t fly, but I still felt bad for him. It’s a hard thing to be disillusioned. It’s much more fun when you believe anything can happen.

I think that’s one reason why Jesus said that we have to receive the kingdom of heaven as a little child if we want to enter into it. I’m sure He had other reasons, too, but I bet that was one of them. Children believe anything can happen.

We adults, however, pride ourselves on being more realistic. We’ve convinced ourselves that we are realistic about what can and can’t happen.

The problem is that sometimes, what we call “realism” is really unbelief.

We may say that we believe God can do anything, but our emotions and the attitudes of our hearts show that we believe otherwise. Our belief that God can do anything has become nothing more than intellectual assent with no practical application. Sure, He could do anything, but He’s not going to. Or if He does anything at all, it will be insignificant.

Somewhere, we bought into the belief that if God doesn’t do exactly what we want in a particular situation, then He’s not doing much of anything. Reality, however, is just the opposite. Something spectacular is always possible—even if it’s not the kind of spectacular we expect.

Timmy’s three. Eventually, he will learn that dough can’t fly. He’ll give up. But I hope he never “learns” that God doesn’t care, or can’t help, or won’t do much—and gives up on God. I hope and pray that he always believes that God can and will do incredible things, no matter the circumstances.

Even if it’s not the kind of “incredible” Timmy was looking for.

Mark 10:15—“I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” (NIV)

Matthew 19:26—Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (NIV)

When Life Attacks

angry dogI love to run for exercise. Recently, my youngest daughter Jessica decided to start running with me. Currently, she is working toward running enough times to earn a pair of good running shoes and some running apparel.

There is a particular loop in my neighborhood that I often run: two blocks down, one block over, two blocks back up, and one block back to where I started. In the middle of that last block, there’s an alley. And as we passed the alley on this particular day, a dun-colored dog ran out of the alleyway toward us.

We had seen this dog act aggressively toward us on a previous run, and we had simply turned around and run the other way. But this time, the dog was having none of that. He approached us aggressively, cutting off our opportunity to turn and go back the way we had come.

“Mommy! There’s that dog again!” Jessica called out (I was slightly ahead of her).

“Don’t look at it,” I instructed in a calm voice. “Just run smoothly, and look straight ahead.”

“Mommy!”

I turned and stopped. Jessica was standing frozen in fear, staring directly at the dog—who, fortunately, had stopped several yards from her. “Jessica,” I said, in the same ultra-calm voice, “keep running. Don’t look at the dog. I’ll protect you.”

Jessica tried to obey, but as she ran on and I moved in between her and the dog, the dog began to bark and advance toward us. Again, Jessica stopped and looked right at it.

“Jessica,” I said firmly but still calmly, “keep going. I will protect you. You have to keep going.”

For some reason, the dog let us go. It still barked after us, but it didn’t advance. Until we rounded the corner toward our house, that is. “Mommy, it’s following us!” Jessica cried out.

By this point, we were close enough to home that I could tell her, “Jessica, run up to the porch.” She obeyed, and the dog left off its loping pursuit and trotted away to find something else to do. We were safe.

In case you’re wondering, I reported the dog to Animal Control, and a few days later, they were able to find the dog loose again and pick it up. But that’s not the point of the story.

The point is this: what happened with me, Jessica, and the dog has important spiritual parallels, and it all comes back to the reason I told Jessica to keep going and not look at the dog.

Why did I do that?

You may be aware that when you encounter an aggressive dog, one of the worst things you can do is make eye contact with it and stare at it. Often, that only provokes the dog and makes things worse for you. So I told Jessica not to look at the dog so that the situation wouldn’t get worse.

And I told her to keep going because I needed to know exactly where she was so that I could more easily position myself between her and the dog, as well as because I needed her to get some distance from him.

I could protect her better if she did what I asked.

When we face attacks in this life, our natural, human inclination is to freeze in fear and focus on the terrible thing that happened (or is threatening to happen). But Jesus tells us to do exactly the opposite. He tells us to keep going and to focus on something else (God). All too often, we assume that He’s trying to minimize or invalidate our fear, or maybe just that He has a thing for being obeyed and doesn’t really care what’s happening to us.

The reality is that Jesus knows exactly how to help us deal with our distress, and that’s why He tells us not to focus on it. Focusing on it only makes things worse for us. He’s not telling us to deny it; He’s always all about truth and accuracy. He’s simply telling us that there’s something better to focus on—something that will help us out a whole lot more than making the attack the primary focal point of our attention.

That’s why He tells us to keep going—because He knows that if we don’t, we’ll stay stuck, and things will never get any better. Just as I wanted Jessica to run towards home, so He wants us to run toward our home—heaven—where all the fear and pain will be behind us.

As Jessica ran, she was still afraid. I knew she would be. I wasn’t suggesting that she not deal with her fear. I was telling her something she needed to do despite her fear. At first, she didn’t see how she could obey, and she remained frozen. But when she began to obey, then she saw that my instructions were, indeed, to her benefit.

Likewise, Jesus only tells us to do things that will help us, not hurt us. Oh, if only we believed that, we would be ready—eager, even—to do whatever He might ask.

But there’s one more thing we need to consider. And this is perhaps the most precious thing of all.

Remember where I was when I was telling Jessica to keep going, and not to look?

Between her and the dog.

Oh, precious mom, hear me. Better yet, hear the heart of God for you. When trials come—when you’re attacked—it may feel like Jesus has left you alone to deal with them. But He hasn’t.

He’s standing between you and the dog.

Keep going, mom. Fix your eyes on God, and keep going. Let Jesus stand between you and the dog, and head for home.

James 1:12—Blessed is the [mom] who perseveres under trial, because when [she] has stood the test, [she] will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.

For the Joy Set Before Us

LollipopLast month, Timmy turned 3. (It seems like only last week that I gave birth to him, but apparently, it was three years ago.) A few days after his birthday, I took him to our physician for his annual well-child checkup. Timmy checked out just fine. He did, however, have to get a s-h-o-t.

I helped the nurse hold Timmy down while the student doctor training with our regular doctor administered the shot in Timmy’s thigh. Timmy fought us, screamed, and cried. Soon, though, the torture was over, and he was all better—especially when he got a lollipop for having endured a shot.

Timmy sucked on his lollipop in the waiting room as I checked out at the window. “Mmm, this is a good lollipop,” Timmy said. “Can I have another one?”

“No, you only got one shot,” I said.

Timmy thought about this for a brief second. “Can I have another shot?” he said.

Timmy was willing to brave the discomfort of another shot in order to get something he really wanted. Small price to pay, he figured.

I wonder if you and I ever think of things in this way? Are we ever willing to endure—or even seek out—the unpleasant things in our lives that it is necessary for us to endure in order to reach joy?

Jesus certainly thought this way. In fact, the writer of Hebrews tells us that Jesus endured even the humiliating agony of the cross by looking forward to the joy that would come afterwards.

You and I suffer pain and difficulties in life. Often, we try to grit our way through it, clenching our teeth and doing our best to endure until it’s over. But do we ever think about the joy that awaits us on the other side of the trial?

Sometimes, we get the idea that we as Christians shouldn’t need any reward. That we should just live our lives faithfully with no thought for what we might get out of it. But that’s not the way Jesus lived His life! Remember that He was looking forward to the joy He would get after He had gone through the cross!

True, it is arrogant and prideful to try to dictate the nature of the reward God “must” give us. God owes us nothing. He is not and cannot be obligated to bless us in the way we might think He should. Nevertheless, in His goodness and grace, He has set rewards before us. Do we really think that He wants us to ignore them?

Women go through childbirth (or adoption paperwork) because of the joy God has set before us—the joy of bringing a new life into our family.

We sacrifice sleep for our children, getting up in the night to feed them or tend to them in their sickness, and why? Because of the joy God has set before us—the joys of having a healthy child.

We pray diligently for our precious children to come to know Jesus and to stay close to Him so that one day, we will know they are walking in the truth. (See 3 John 1:4.)

We struggle to figure out how in the world to discipline our children so that they will grow up to be contributing members to society and their own families, and a pleasure to us. (See Proverbs 10:1.)

We work all day (whether inside or outside the home) so that we can experience the joy of providing for our family. (See 1 Timothy 1:8.)

We sacrifice our own wants, needs, and desires in order to put our children first, and so that we can know the joy of giving ourselves for the sake of our beloved. (See 1 Thessalonians 2:8 and Philippians 2:17.)

Praise be to God for His mercy and generosity that He has set things up so that there are always rewards set before us. Did He have to do that? No. But He did. Why?

So we could have something to look forward to.

I don’t know what you’re facing in your life right now; you don’t know what I’m facing. But I do know that God has set joy before both of us.

What is the joy He has set before you? Are you looking forward to it and letting the anticipation of it strengthen you now?
Hebrews 12:2—Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (ESV)

The iPad 25405

ipad babyOne time a few years ago, I was telling our then-foster daughter that when I was her age (she was 15), nobody had cell phones. Ellie, who was 8 at the time, overheard. “Wow!” she said. “I didn’t know you were that old!”

Perhaps it was this story Lindsey had in mind one day recently. Or perhaps it was simply the fact that my kids find it fascinating to know how things were “back when” Mommy was their age. In any case, Lindsey said, out of the blue, “I can’t wait until I grow up so I can tell my kids, ‘You know, when I was a kid, there was no such thing as the iPad 25405!’”

Actually, by the time she’s the age I was when I had kids (she’s almost 9 now, and I’m…well…older than 9), I wouldn’t doubt it if even the awesome wonder of technology that is the iPad had been replaced by something even more incredible.

Technology is developing at an ever-increasing pace. Just when I have one new device mastered enough to turn it on, the new version comes out, filled with more things I don’t know how to make it do. I love technology, but I have to admit that it’s hard for me to understand and keep abreast of.

That’s why I’m so glad that the Bible never changes. True, I now read it on my Android 10.1” tablet, by using a program that can do all kinds of things. But the content—the stuff God wants me to know—is the same content that was written thousands of years ago.

I know there are other versions of the Bible out there—the KJV, NIV, the Message, the ESV, just to name a few—but all of these versions are based on the same original texts. All are based on the original Greek and Hebrew manuscripts that do not change. Ever.

This means that we don’t have to master any “new and improved” versions of what God thinks is important—as if He came up with something better. God doesn’t need to modernize the content of His Word. What He said in the first place was completely right. That means it was, and is, good enough for all time.

One day, the iPad will be obsolete (hard as that is to imagine). But God’s Word will never be obsolete. Why? Because God Himself never changes. What He was, He now is, and He always will be.

No upgrades needed—because He can’t get any better or more accurate than He already is.

Hebrews 13:8—Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

Psalm 102:27—But you are the unchanging One, and your years will have no end.

Malachi 3:6a—”For I the LORD do not change.”

Matthew 24:35—“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.”

Housecleaning

Cleaning Lady ChargeI’ve heard it said that trying to keep your house clean when you have young children is like trying to brush your teeth while eating Oreos.

I’ve also heard it likened to trying to shovel your driveway while it’s still snowing.

I can identify with both of these. I’ve never exactly kept an immaculate house (well, until I began nesting while pregnant with my first child), but I’ve gotten a lot better in recent years. At least, I think I have. It’s hard to tell when the house is so often a wreck.

Do I just need to try harder? Do I need to be better and more diligent at teaching my kids to clean up after themselves? Is keeping a clean house while I have young children even possible, anyway?? (If you have five children ages 11 and under, and you are a stay-at-home mom, and you homeschool, and you keep your house neat and clean on a regular basis with no outside help, then by all means, let me know how you do it! Seriously!)

But as nice as it would be to have a clean house often enough that, when we are cleaning, my kids don’t ask, “Is someone coming over?”, it would be even nicer (and even more important) to have a clean spiritual “house.”

Just as there are things that clutter up our physical houses, so there are things that clutter up our spiritual houses. Not Legos and artwork and stuffed animals, but slander and obscene talk and deceit. We’re commanded to get rid of such things as these (see Eph. 4:31, Col. 3:8, and 1 Peter 2:1), but too often, we leave them lying around where they’re bound to get in the way again.

Getting rid of the clutter in your house is great, but you also want to make sure there’s no dirt coating the kitchen sink, the toilet, or the floors. If you’re going to clean your spiritual house, you need not only to declutter it, but to remove the filth (sin) that clings to it. While it is true that Jesus cleansed us from all our sins when He died on the cross for us, and that His perfectly righteous life stands in the place of our sinful one, it’s also true that we still sin on a pretty regular basis. We need to be quick to confess our sins and receive the forgiveness and cleansing God has promised us (see 1 John 1:9), not leave the filth lying around.

We also need to keep our physical houses aired out. If you’ve ever owned a vacation home (yeah, I haven’t either), or been to one that hasn’t been used in awhile, you know that even a clean home can begin to smell musty when it hasn’t been used for a long time. The only thing you can do is open doors or windows to get fresh air circulating. To put that in terms of our spiritual house, we need to be receiving a regular influx of the Holy Spirit’s ministry to us. He is the One who refreshes us spiritually. He lives in the heart of each mom who has acknowledged Jesus as her Lord, but it’s a whole lot easier for Him to minister to us when we are putting ourselves in a position to hear from Him. Are we neglecting Bible reading, prayer, or corporate worship? No wonder our spiritual house smells musty!

It’s not easy to keep our physical houses clean. In fact, it’s really hard. I would love to have a maid to help me.

It’s not easy to keep our spiritual houses clean, either. It’s sometimes really hard not to sin, or to do the things we know we should do. But even better than having a maid to help us keep our physical house clean, we have God Himself to help us keep our spiritual house clean. He’ll show us what needs to get tossed out and what we need to start doing. And then He’ll give us the strength and wisdom to do it.

But we have to be willing to take action. If we had enough money, we could hire a maid (or a whole team of maids) to clean our physical house while we sat around and did nothing. But God doesn’t work like that. He’s not going to bestow a clean spiritual house upon us while we just continue dirtying it up or sit around not caring that it’s dirty. We have to cooperate by doing what He shows us to do—or not do.

Are you ready and willing to clean your spiritual house?

Ask Him to show you where and how to get started.

Psalm 139:23-24—Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting! (ESV)

Second Place and a Band-Aid

Band AidsIt was a gorgeous, 72-degree day. The sun was shining. There was a light breeze. The fact that it was mid-February (and, therefore, supposedly winter) was irrelevant. Spring was making an early appearance—at least temporarily.

“Wow, it’s a beautiful day!” I said to the kids.

“Yeah,” Lindsey responded cheerfully, “it reminds me of field day at public school last year, when I won second place and a Band-Aid.”

I found her comment amusing, and I followed up on it. It turned out that the Band-Aid had been earned during the three-legged race. With her left ankle tied to a friend’s right ankle, Lindsey and her partner had been heading as fast as they could for the finish line. But Lindsey tripped and scraped her knee on the ground. Hence, the trip to the nurse’s office to ask for a Band-Aid.

As I considered the fact that running her race had left a physical mark on Lindsey’s body, I realized something: the same can be said of us moms.

We may not be running an actual race (though chasing after toddlers can sure seem like it), but the marks of our “race” are there nonetheless.

For those of us who have physically borne children, our bodies no longer look the same. We might have stretch marks, a C-section scar, or a little extra flabbiness in places that weren’t always flabby.

Most of us, whether or not we’ve been pregnant or whether we’ve adopted, carry a few more pounds than are strictly necessary. Coming up with the time and inclination to go to the gym when we haven’t had a solid night’s sleep in months is difficult. Not to mention figuring out how to pay for said gym membership, when there are so many other things that have to be paid for first.

Many of us have more gray hairs than when we first became a mom. Not that they’re necessarily caused by our children (well, maybe they are….), but having our hair colored or highlights touched up every six weeks is time-consuming and expensive, especially when there are so many other demands upon our energy and resources.

Then there’s the scar we bear on our forearm near the elbow because hot gravy from the meal we were cooking on the stovetop splattered not only on us, but on our toddler who was standing too near the stove, and we washed our toddler’s skin off first, while the gravy burned into our own.

All of these are not marks of a merely physical event, but of motherhood.

Then there are the laugh lines at the corners of our mouths and the crinkles at the corners of our eyes. None of those were there when we were 20. But now, the joys of motherhood have etched themselves into our facial expressions.

And our tummy, which is “so soft”, as our child so kindly tells us, that used to be much flatter many years ago. But it’s the softness of motherhood.

And our arms, those incredible appendages God has given us that know not only how to do great and strong things, but also now know how to delicately embrace a child who needs love.

Consider our eyes, which see what our child is really saying, what’s really going on in her little heart.

Our ears, which hear silence, and know instinctively that something “not good” is going on.

Our feet, which bear calluses from all the standing and walking we do in taking our child places, in standing at the stove cooking, in pacing the floor in the middle of the night while attempting to soothe a colicky newborn.

Our backs, which sometimes bend beneath the heavy load, but can straighten up in an instant when one of our children is threatened.

Our shoulders, which now carry the weight of our love for our child and of our child’s concerns.

Yes, our bodies are different, whether the marks are visible or invisible.

This is what the Apostle Paul was talking about when he said he bore in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus. Paul had suffered greatly because of his commitment to and love for the Lord. Yet he was not ashamed. Instead, he wore the marks with honor.

That’s how you and I can bear the changes in our bodies, too. Ladies, we can be so harsh on ourselves, so disparaging toward the perceived imperfections of our flesh. But these marks of motherhood are in reality not imperfections. They, too, are the marks of the Lord Jesus.

He is the one who called us to this precious position of motherhood. Ultimately, even more than we serve our children, we serve Him. So every mark on our bodies, every change that comes about as a result of motherhood, is a change that came about because of following the Lord Jesus’ calling upon our lives.

You may think your body’s not perfect. But it tells a beautiful story.

Be grateful for the story.

Galatians 6:17—From henceforth let no man trouble me: for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus. (KJV)

Getting Back in Shape…Again

RunnerThis morning, I alternated running and walking for 2 miles. I also installed the My Fitness Pal app on my phone and computer and began keeping track of my food intake so this app can help me determine how many calories I need and monitor how many I’m actually getting. I’ve upped my water intake, and I didn’t use creamer in my coffee this morning.

But lest you be impressed with me, I must confess to this: I haven’t done anything like this in quite awhile. That’s why I need to do it now.

6 months ago, I was in the best shape of my life. I was eating healthy and exercising regularly. My muscles were well-defined. I felt strong, and my body felt somehow “clean.” But then the thought occurred to me that I didn’t want to eat so strictly for the rest of my life; nor did I want to worry so much about exercise. So I started eating whatever I wanted (oh, the bliss!), and I stopped exercising.

I gained 25 pounds and a size and a half in terms of clothing. I had to buy new pants since I no longer fit into any of my old ones. But I was happy. I was still at what most of society would consider a small clothing size, and I decided I was content with that.

Until I went to the doctor for routine bloodwork and discovered that I had high cholesterol. Way high.

Well, nuts. So much for eating whatever I wanted. Now I have to start eating healthy, not for my figure’s sake, but for my overall health. I want to be around a long time, and I want to be healthy while I’m here. Hence, the return to running, exercising, and eating right.

It’s going to take a lot of energy and discipline to change my habits so drastically. But it’s worth it if it means I’ll live longer and maybe get to see my grandchildren or even great-grandchildren.

I wonder, though…with all this effort that I’m putting into taking care of my body, which won’t last forever…am I putting in anything close to the same level of effort in taking care of my spirit, which will last for eternity?

Some days, yes. I have my devotional time with God. I pray and read my Bible. If it’s Sunday or Wednesday, I attend church. I try to apply what I’m learning to my life.

But some days, no. I get “too busy” to have my devotional time, or I forget. I attend church, but I don’t concentrate on the sermon or lesson. I forget to make application to my life of what I know to be true—or I remember that I should do so, but decide not to.

Some of you may be in the same situation I am, in terms of spending your time and energy taking care of other things and neglecting your spirit. But there ought to be a disconnect in our minds between devoting all our energies to temporary things and neglecting the eternal. It shouldn’t make sense to us.

I’m not saying we have to spend more hours reading our Bible or praying than we do cooking, exercising, or taking care of our other responsibilities. It’s mathematically impossible; there just aren’t enough hours in the day. But if we focus on our earthly responsibilities and possessions to the exclusion of our eternal ones, something’s wrong. If we find ourselves willing to put plenty of effort into things that matter for a little while but unwilling to make time for things that matter forever, we’re on the wrong path.

If you don’t really desire to put much time into spiritual things, you need to pray for God to change your heart and realign your priorities. If the desire is there, but you can’t figure out a way to make it happen, then ask God. He’ll tell you. Consult your friends (or me!) to find out what they do to make it work (though remember that your devotional time doesn’t have to look exactly like theirs).

Make it your goal to nourish your spirit, even more than you nourish your body. Train yourself to focus on what really matters—not just what matters for now.

If we live to be 100, and we’re still fit and healthy in body, that’s good. But if our body is healthy but our spirit is malnourished, we’ve been pursuing the wrong goal.

Don’t spend your life putting all your efforts into chasing after what’s temporary—bodily health, material possessions, or even the elusive “happiness.” Set your sights much higher.

Set them on eternity.

1 Timothy 4:7-8—Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come. (ESV)

2 Corinthians 4:18—So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.