Taking Things a Step Further

Meditations / Pixabay

Guess what? I’m a great-grandmother!

Yes, that’s right, at the age of only 45, I have become a great-grandmother. How, you ask, especially since you may know that my oldest child is only 13?

It happened like this: Lindsey’s and Jessica’s hamsters (a boy and a girl) did, well, what hamsters do, and yesterday, Lindsey’s hamster, Wafflez, gave birth to two itty-bitty baby hamsters. Whereupon the proud father, Jessica’s hamster, Pancake, was summarily removed to another cage to live by himself so that he wouldn’t do what new-father hamsters do.

Both Lindsey and Jessica are super-excited. They each named a baby hamster—one is Cheese Puff; one is Berry—and they’ve been checking on those babies frequently. Especially Lindsey. At 10 years old, and being the kind of diligent kid that she is, she has researched everything there is to know about hamsters and their mating habits; hamster pregnancy and birth; the care and feeding of baby and new-mama hamsters; and pretty much anything else you can think of.

She’s learning a ton about science, far more than I think she would learn in a year of written curriculum. I’m glad. But if science is the only thing she learns from this experience, I will have missed an opportunity.

That’s because learning about how our world works tells us a lot about God and His ways. Even the intricacies of mathematics tell us that our God is a God of order, rules, and planning. The study of English or any other language tells us that God desires to communicate His truths to us, that He desires that we be able to communicate them to each other, and that He’s set up ways for us to do so. History allows us to see that when people follow God’s designs for how mankind relates to each other, things go well; when we don’t, they go badly.

Science, then—in this case, life science—tells us that God is an incredibly intelligent, powerful, creative God to have designed so complex a world. It illustrates to us how God planned things even down to the smallest detail, such as placing instincts within a hamster to take care of her babies in the way that will ensure their survival. It shows Lindsey that she has an opportunity to work together with God in caring for His creation, just like Adam and Eve did in the Garden.

So while I’m really proud of her for taking the initiative and learning all of these things, I don’t want her just to learn science; I also want her to learn about God. To that end, I will do my best to prompt her to think about these things. When we take our daily picture of the hamsters so that we’ll have a record of their growth, I’ll remind her that each living creature grows according to God’s plan for it. When she feeds her hamsters, I’ll point out that God has a plan for the health of every living thing. When she expresses delight over how perfect and tiny Cheese Puff and Berry are, I’ll tell her about the Bible verse that says that not even a tiny, seemingly insignificant creature is unnoticed by God (see Matt. 10:29).

You can do this too. You don’t have to be some kind of science, English, or math expert. If you know your God and know what your Bible says, you’re in a great position to illustrate God and His truth to your children every day, even in the most ordinary of circumstances. How? In any given circumstance, simply stop and ask yourself, What is God revealing about Himself through this? What does cooking, or taking out the trash, or admiring a leaf teach me about Him? Which of His glories has He chosen to show forth in a kind word, or the fact that I have a car to drive, or this cold, wintry day? How has He chosen to illustrate Scripture in the smell of coming rain or the stickiness of glue?

I bet you could think of something right now to talk about with your children, through which you could help them to know God better. No? How about the fact that you’re reading these words on some kind of device? What does that say about God and His world?

Try it this week. Pick something ordinary and talk about it with your children. You might need to give them examples of how to learn about God when they have difficulty tying their shoelaces. But if you can train them now to begin seeing God in every situation, you will have given them one of the most valuable gifts a parent can give a child.

That’s because learning how God’s world works is great, but learning about God Himself is even better.

Psalm 19:1-2—The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. (NIV)

What It Takes to Be a Good Mom

DieterRobbins / Pixabay

In high school and college, I auditioned for and was accepted into various choirs. I have a good voice, though there are plenty of people whose voices are better than mine. But one area in which I excel is my ability to hear when a singer is on pitch.

Which, of course, means that I also know when someone isn’t on pitch. 10-year-old Lindsey is the one of my children who seems to have inherited my ability to detect tiny variations from what the pitch should be. So when she and I were watching a televised singer recently, we spent the first couple minutes cringing at almost every note.

“I guess you don’t have to be a good singer to be famous,” Lindsey said, after we had hit the ‘mute’ button. “You just have to be hot.”

She was right, in a way. The most famous singers are not always the best singers. In other words, you don’t always have to be good at your job to be successful.

Which got me to thinking: What does it take to be a successful mom? Does it require perfection? Can you be a “good mom” while still having faults that others might notice?

Let’s be real for a moment. You (if you’re like most moms) and I are experts at identifying our real or perceived faults and feeling guilty for them. We hesitate to call ourselves “good moms” because we’re all too aware of the things we do wrong daily, and sometimes minute-by-minute. If someone were to ask us if we’re good moms, we would probably reply something like, “Well…I hope so.”

My fellow sister in Christ and my companion on this amazing, crazy journey called motherhood, let me tell you something: God does not want us to live with the discouragement and uncertainty of wondering whether or not we’re good moms. He’s told us exactly what it takes to be “good.”

Hear His words: “He has told you, O [mom], what [constitutes] good. And what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (See Micah 6:8.)

Go back and read those words again, maybe even more than once. Let them soak into your soul. Hear what He’s saying, and what He’s not saying.

“Do what is right. Love kindness. Walk humbly with Me.”

Let’s look at those one by one.

“Do what is right.” In other words, like we tell our children, “Behave yourself.” Simple. (Not always easy, but always simple.)

“Love kindness.” Apparently, the word there is the Hebrew word hesed. This word has to do with loving people unconditionally, no matter what they do. Sound like something we need to practice every day with our children?

“Walk humbly with your God.” We all know what this means. We know when a child is humble towards us and when he or she isn’t. Thus (humble) we are to be toward God.

Now that we’ve looked at those, let me paraphrase Micah 6:8—“He has told you, O mom, what it takes to be a good mom. All you have to do is behave yourself, love your kids no matter what, and make sure your heart is submissive toward God.”

That’s it. Just those three things. No mention of hand-sewn anything, good looks, creativity, a spotless house, or any of the myriad other things we make ourselves feel guilty for not accomplishing. It’s fine to excel at these things, but none of them is what makes you a good mom.

True, God may direct us to do these things as part of His plan for us and our family, but they are not what makes us good moms. Submission to His will is part of what makes us good moms.

So the next time you’re wondering if you’re any good at this mom thing, don’t look at any of your abilities. Look instead at your heart.

Are you behaving yourself? Do you love your children unconditionally and forever? Is your heart humble toward God?

If so, you’re good. You’re a good mom. Rest in that.

Micah 6:8—He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you But to do justice, to love kindness, And to walk humbly with your God? (NASB)

How to Get Out of Obeying the Rules

OpenClipart-Vectors / Pixabay
OpenClipart-Vectors / Pixabay

I’m normally a pretty law-abiding citizen. I believe, as I’m sure you do, that honoring the authorities God has placed over us in turn honors Him. But I admit that there are some laws I really wish I didn’t have to obey.

Take, for example, the speed limit. I’d get out of being subject to that one, if I could. I’d much rather choose the speed I want to go than abide by a limit that is usually (in my opinion, at least) much too slow.

Unfortunately, I don’t think the authorities really care what I want, at least as far as this matter is concerned. The speed limit law remains in place whether I like it or not, and it’s not likely to be repealed anytime soon.

So I guess I’m stuck with obeying it. Because I also can’t figure out a way to make Timmy’s “getting out of undesirable requirements” strategy work in my case. Let me tell you what he did recently, beginning with a little background.

On the wall of our kitchen, we have a white board (dry erase board). When there’s something we need to remember, such as which child received which medication at which time, we write it down on the board. It’s a cheap, convenient way to keep track of things that are temporarily important.

Occasionally, my husband will write a list of chores on the board that he wants the kids to be sure to accomplish that day. Timmy knows Phil does this. One day, Phil entered the kitchen to find the white board blank. The grocery list he’d written was no longer there. “Who erased the grocery list from the white board?” he asked.

Timmy glanced at him and sheepishly said, “I did.”

“Why did you do that?” Phil asked.

“Because I thought they were chores and you were going to make me do one of them,” Timmy said.

That’s actually some pretty good thinking, for a four-year-old who will turn five in a couple months. If you see something you believe is a list of things that you don’t want to do, and you are afraid you might get assigned to do one or more of them, then you just erase the list! Bingo—no more chores! Right?

You and I, as moms, realize that it doesn’t work like this. If it had been a list of chores that Timmy erased, they wouldn’t have ceased to be necessary just because they were no longer written where he could see them. We’re amused by Timmy’s strategy because we know better.

Which doesn’t explain why we try something very similar when we don’t want to obey one of God’s laws.

How many of us who, like me, dislike speed limits, simply ignore them and drive whatever speed we think we can drive without getting caught? How many of us ignore the fact that God says we should speak kindly to one another, justifying our harsh or critical words by saying we’ve had a bad day? How many of us eat whatever we want, whenever we want, because we don’t want to face the Bible’s teachings on gluttony?

Yeah. We’re starting to sound more and more like Timmy, aren’t we?

You know what? Ignoring God’s laws doesn’t make them go away. Keeping them from our conscious awareness doesn’t mean we’re not guilty when we transgress them. The Holy Spirit wants us to feel guilty at the right times so that we can correct whatever is going wrong. Silencing His voice is just as bad for us spiritually as ignoring intense pain would be for us physically.

Is there something in your life that you continue to do, knowing that you really shouldn’t? Have you traded the spiritual joy of doing God’s will for the fleeting pleasure of having your own way?

God has already made His list and written it where you can see it, if you’re willing to look.

Don’t erase the white board.

James 1:25—But the one looking intently into the perfect law, the law of freedom, and continuing in it, not being a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in his work. (MGT)

God’s Response to the Presidential Election

bykst / Pixabay

Less than a week ago, Americans went to the polls and chose Donald J. Trump to be the 45th President of the United States. The aftermath of that election has been an aftermath unlike any other.

Many Americans are rejoicing that Trump was elected. Most of them believe that the other major candidate, Hillary Clinton, lacked personal integrity and would have disregarded citizens’ needs when they conflicted with her personal advantage; they also feared that her belief in every woman’s right to an abortion would lead to an untold number of babies being sacrificed for a mother’s convenience.

However, many other Americans are grieving. They see Trump as a man who will lead our country to trample on citizens’ rights and basic human dignity; they fear the results of the hate and racism which they believe Mr. Trump has espoused and which they believe others will also feel free to express in the wake of his election (as, indeed, has seemed to be happening).

Some of us have spent the past several days vilifying the “other” side. Others have questioned the Christianity of people who voted for (insert either candidate’s name here). Some have staged protests, mocked protestors, shouted things that should be unspeakable at authorities, and committed acts of violence or hate against people that aren’t like us. A growing number of us is begging everyone to just calm down and live peacefully with others even as we work to see the change we wish to see.

In the midst of all the emotions and ideas swirling around as we try to figure out how to go forward, I thought it would be wise to stop and consider what God thinks about the election.

I don’t presume to know the entire mind of God, but I do know this: God is not surprised that Donald Trump won. He knew from before the foundations of the world that Trump would win. Many Americans were surprised by the results, but God wasn’t. I know this, too: God’s plan was neither assured nor derailed by majority vote. God is not now scrambling to figure out what He will do in the wake of America’s decision. He knows exactly how He will work in and through Trump’s strengths and despite Trump’s weaknesses to bring about His plan. He is neither rejoicing that now, with Trump in the White House, He is finally able to bring His will to pass; nor is He grieving that His plan has been thwarted by Secretary Clinton’s defeat.

God will use Donald Trump, just like He would have used Hillary Clinton if she had won, to bring about His eternal, immutable purposes. It doesn’t matter whether or not Trump cooperates, at least in terms of the success of God’s plan; God’s purposes will not be thwarted. The President of the United States is a powerful individual, but his or her power is nothing compared to the power of our Almighty, Omnipotent God.

That being the case, how does He want us to respond?

Again, I cannot claim to know all the specifics of God’s will for each of us. But I do know that He will never lead anyone to do or believe something that contradicts His will as revealed in Scripture. Therefore, I know this: God ultimately wants us to place our trust in Him, not in any human being. If we’re happy that Trump was elected, fine. But we must remember that God is no more or less able to accomplish His purposes now that Trump has been elected than He would have been if Secretary Clinton had been elected. If we have for a single moment believed that only in a Trump administration can God perform His will, we have put our trust in a human being rather than God Himself. We have elevated another human being to the place that only God deserves.

I also know this: God wants us to love each other. This means we can’t shame someone for voting for Trump or mock people who are deeply upset that he won. It’s not okay to be disrespectful just because someone holds views that are different from our own or displays a different reaction. In fact, during the Last Supper, Jesus instituted one last, new command: Love one another. Spraying hate messages on people’s property, or destroying that property in protest, is not what He had in mind.

Neither is acting in hate toward another person for any reason, much less because that person is a (insert a minority group designation here). How God’s heart must break when we wound someone else by our hateful words and actions! He never once showed hate to anyone; He always showed love, even to those who kept trying to kill Him. Hear me: if we act hatefully toward anyone, for any reason, God calls that sin.

Finally, God wants us to realize that there is no authority except that which He has established, and to respect that authority. Does that mean we have to respect every policy the authority might institute? Of course not. Does it mean we have to like the authority? No. But just as it’s not okay to disparage individuals made in the image of God, it is likewise wrong to disrespect authorities instituted by God. It’s more than fine to stand against any policy that dishonors God; in fact, we must. It is not okay to show disrespect or contempt for what God has done.

Maybe we’re still trying to figure out what we think or plan to do now that we know who the next President will be. But far more important than deciding what we think is aligning ourselves with what God thinks. And far more imperative than doing what we want to do, is doing what God wants done.

As we move forward post-Election 2016, may God’s glory and satisfaction be our only goal. May we pursue that goal only in ways that honor Him. May we focus not on satisfying our own desires but on bringing Him glory.

And may God bless America.

Amen.

Isaiah 14:27—For the LORD Almighty has purposed, and who can thwart him? His hand is stretched out, and who can turn it back? (NIV)

Romans 13:1—Let every person submit himself to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except what God has established, and every authority that exists has been appointed by God. (MGT)

John 13:34—“A new commandment I give you: Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also must love one another.” (MGT)

Leaving It All on the Field

LincolnN / Pixabay
LincolnN / Pixabay

By now, if you live in North America, you’ve probably heard that the Chicago Cubs won the 2016 World Series. If you read last week’s devotion, you know how happy this makes me. What you may not know is how I reacted to their win (after screaming with joy in a way that went beyond words).

Why would you care how I reacted to their win? Well, maybe you don’t, at least as far as baseball is concerned. But hang in there with me, because the surprising way I found myself reacting applies to my whole life, not just this one event. Maybe it applies to yours, too.

I spent the evening with a longtime friend from college. She invited us over and prepared “baseball food” for us (hot dogs, chips, etc.); we all watched the game on her large-screen TV.

I say “all,” but by the eighth inning, when things really started to get interesting, only my two youngest daughters and I were still there. Throughout the eighth and ninth innings, our hopes rose and fell with every swing of the bat. My heart seemed to stop and start far too many times; I alternately cheered and closed my eyes (and reminded myself to breathe).

Then, the game went into extra innings. Then, there was a seventeen-minute rain delay. We waited there in my friend’s living room, not knowing whether we were awaiting victory or defeat.

Of course, you know the rest. When the tenth inning started, the Cubs started to score. The Cleveland Indians couldn’t match them, and with the final ball to first baseman Anthony Rizzo, the game was over. The Cubs had won!

We screamed (repeatedly). We raised both fists high into the air (again, repeatedly). We rejoiced.

Finally, at some point, I stopped screaming. I stopped cheering. I fell quiet. Instead of crying, as I openly did when the Cubs won the League Championship Series (and, thus, advanced to the World Series), or continuing to cheer along with the rejoicing I saw onscreen, I simply sat and watched as the win soaked in.

“I have nothing left,” I said to my friend.

I’ve been a lifelong Cubs fan, and my desire to see them win has gone largely unsatisfied. I’d followed them through the Division Series and the League Championship Series. I’d watched every single game of the World Series, and I’d loved them and supported them with all my heart and all my emotion.

That’s why I had nothing left. I had given everything I had. Just like my beloved Cubbies, I’d left it all on the field.

Jesus knows all about loving people until the very end—and no, I’m not talking about what He did for us on the cross. I’m talking about what He did for the disciples prior to that.

I’m sure you know about the part of the Last Supper where Jesus washed the disciples’ feet. But do you know what John says right before that?

John reminded his readers that it was just before the Passover Festival. He then pointed out that Jesus knew what was about to happen. Then—and don’t miss this part—he talks about how Jesus had loved the disciples and continued to love them until the end. And he gives the example of Jesus’ washing their feet as an example of how He continued to love them.

Despite the fact that Judas was about to betray Him, and He knew it, Jesus washed their feet. He illustrated for them in visual fashion what He was trying to teach them with His words, despite the tremendous mental and emotional strain He must have been under, knowing what would happen to Him in just a few short hours.

He washed their feet, and later He died for them, and when He did, He had given everything He had—not just His life (as if that weren’t enough), but all the love He had for them as their God, Creator, and Friend.

He had nothing left.

To slightly paraphrase Erma Bombeck, “When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of [loving] left, and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me.’ ”

Because even more than I love the Cubs, I love my family. When someday Jesus calls me home and I leave my loved ones behind, I want them to be able to say, “She loved us as fully as it was possible for a human being to love. She gave us everything she had.”

May I so live now that they can say those words then.

May you do the same for your loved ones.

Leave it all on the field.

John 13:1—It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. (NIV)

This Could Be the Year!

OpenClipart-Vectors / Pixabay

Most people pick spring, summer, fall, or winter as their favorite season. When asked, I usually say fall is mine.

But my true favorite season? The one I love even more than fall? The one whose coming I anticipate more than I look forward to the relief from roasting-hot temperatures that fall brings?

Baseball season.

Every March, a beautiful, magical thing happens. Baseball diamonds all over North America come alive with the sights, sounds, and excitement of Major League Baseball games. The bat makes contact with the ball right in the sweet spot, and, crack! A 99-mile-an-hour fastball thwacks into the catcher’s leather glove. The constant, rumbling crowd noise roars to ear-splitting decibels in the space of a heartbeat.

The umpire half-crouches into the action at the plate, then flings his arms to the sides, palms down, signaling “safe.” Forty thousand fans rise to their feet as one to watch a ball soar over the wall.

Baseball season.

For almost eight months, baseball fans glory in the excitement and the triumphs. They cringe or fume at defeats and unfair calls. No matter which team they’re fans of, they hope anew that this year, their team will win the World Series in October.

Especially if they’re Cubs fans, like me.

That’s because while the vast majority of teams make at least periodic appearances in the World Series (baseball’s ultimate contest), we (I say “we,” because with Cubs fans, everything is very personal) haven’t made it to the Fall Classic since 1945. We haven’t won it since—ahem—1908. Yet every year, we flock back to the stadiums to watch our beloved Cubbies try, try, try again. In the words of Winston Churchill, we “never, never, never give up.” Past failures don’t matter. This could be the year!

Why do we do it? Why do otherwise logical, reasonable men and women continue to support a team that has such a dismal record in some respects? Why do we remain so fiercely loyal? Why have we come to exemplify the word “longsuffering” in a world where instant gratification is the highest value?

In a word: Love. We love our Cubbies. And because our love is authentic and unconditional (has to be, for Cubs fans), it sticks around. Loss after loss. Disappointment after disappointment. Year after year.

It’s extraordinary. It’s noteworthy. It’s…kind of biblical.

I admit, maybe the Bible doesn’t exactly mandate loving the Cubbies (though I’m sure I could bend some verse out of context), but it does describe how real love works. Real love is longsuffering (that means really, really patient); it always believes; it always hopes; it always endures. In other words, this is the kind of love Cubs fans need.

It’s also the kind of love we need if we want to love not just a baseball team, but our fellow human beings.

Yes…them. The ones who have provoked you. Disappointed you. Failed you so many times in the past and come up so short that you feel like you know better than to think anything’s ever going to change.

How can we do that?

By loving them like many people love the Cubbies. Not by denying their past record of failures, but by believing that the goal they’re striving for is within their reach, even if it takes a really long time. Not by abandoning them when the failures outnumber the successes, but encouraging them to keep going. Not by believing, “If it hasn’t happened by now, it’ll never happen,” but by choosing to believe, “This could be the year!”

Please understand that I’m not suggesting we tolerate sinful or abusive behavior from our loved ones and fail to protect ourselves. What I’m saying is that when someone is trying, day in and day out, even if he or she has only imperfect success…when that person exerts every effort, maybe not perfectly, but pretty doggone consistently…

Well, we have two choices. We can choose to stop loving, abandoning our loved one if not physically, then emotionally.

Or we can make the harder choice. We can choose to continue loving with the real kind of love. We can purpose to love someone not because of his or her performance, but despite it.

If our love falters when our loved one fails, it wasn’t real love in the first place. It was based on whether or not we got something out of the deal. It was “I’ll love you as long as you please me.”

Genuine, authentic love isn’t like that. It makes the choice to continue loving, no matter what the loved one does or fails to do. It encourages for the future instead of condemning because of the past; it endures pain and disappointment (though not necessarily certain behaviors) for the sake of continuing to love and remain in relationship; and it chooses to look forward toward the success that is possible instead of looking backward toward a history of failure.

Our love may not be able to cause our team to win (if it could, the Cubs would defeat the Indians in the World Series in four games). Neither can it cause others to change (only God, through the power of the Holy Spirit, can do that). But when we make a deliberate decision of our will to love others in the absence of their perfection, we’re loving them the way God wants us to. Which, by the way, is the way He—blessedly, wonderfully, and undeservedly—loves us.

Maybe, just maybe, this will really be the year.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7—Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (NKJV)

You Are Enough

Two quartersIf I could, I’d invite each of you to come over and have a cup of coffee with me (or tea, or water, or whatever you prefer). We would sit down on my comfy couch, turned toward each other, our drinks forgotten on the coffee table, excited that we had at least this limited time together. And we would talk.

What would we talk about? Anything we wanted to. As we sat facing each other and enjoying each other’s company, we might decide to discuss things that didn’t really matter, but were fun to talk about. Or we might choose to share what was on our heart right then—the things that really do matter.

I don’t know what you might share; I wish I could meet you in person to find out. But I do know what I would share. Since I can’t share it with you in person, you’ll have to imagine me sitting before you, looking directly at you and speaking from my heart. Because that’s what I’m doing right now as I write, even if you can’t see me.

And what I’m saying is this: You. Are. Enough.

You, with all your imperfections and memories of failure and your trying-hard-and-not-being-good-enough (and I, with those same things). You are enough for your children.

Will you let me prove it to you?

To start with, look at the picture at the top. It’s a picture of two quarters lying on my coffee table. Two ordinary quarters…except that if you look closely enough, you’ll see that they’re really not ordinary at all.

That’s because they were given to me by my eight-year-old daughter, Jessica. One sunny day not long ago, she told me she had a present for me. As I sat on the couch cross-stitching and enjoying a blessed moment of peace in the midst of a busy day, I could hear her humming quietly and cheerfully to herself as she carefully and diligently wrapped my present at the kitchen table.

A few minutes later, she came to offer it to me, and I put my stitching aside. I slowly unwrapped the abundant layers of brightly-colored wrapping paper to find…nothing. “It’s in there,” she assured me.

In the bottom of the wrapping, I saw a quarter. I withdrew it and thanked her. “There’s another one in there somewhere,” she said. So I turned the wrapping upside down and shook it. Another quarter dropped out. “Thank you, sweetie,” I said, smiling.

Then came the words that make those two quarters the most special quarters on the face of the earth: “They’re not much,” she said, her face quietly alight with love, “but it’s all the money I had.”

What does that precious story have to do with your being enough? Simply this: Jessica’s gift was more than enough for me not because it was fifty cents, which really isn’t all that big a deal in the grand scheme of things. Her gift touched me so deeply I will never forget it, and my heart will never fail to be warmed by it, because she gave all she had.

So do you. Every second of every day, you pour out your heart, your love, and even your very life for your children. Your gift to them is enough, not because of what you’re giving them, but because you’re giving all you have.

As you sit on my couch facing me and tears perhaps begin to fill your eyes, I reach forward and lay my hand over yours. And I tell you again, “You. Are. Enough.”

Yes, I know you’re not perfect. Yes, I know you’ve made mistakes and even sinned against your children. But being enough is based not upon your level of performance or the degree of perfection (what even is perfection, anyway?) that you achieve. It’s based on the fact that Jesus says you are enough.

Really? you ask, and I answer, Yes. Really. Let me tell you another story.

It’s the story of a woman who was beyond poor. Way, way beyond poor. In fact, all she had left to live on was a couple of coins. One day, she came to offer it all to God. And Jesus, who was looking on with His disciples, commended her to them. “Everybody else gave money out of their abundance,” He said. I paraphrased that part slightly. But listen to the next part of what He said, which I’m not paraphrasing at all: “But she, from her utter neediness, gave all the resources she had.”

Do you hear what He’s saying? That her sacrifice was precious to Him not because she gave much, but because she gave all she had?

Precious mom, you aren’t failing every day to do enough or be enough. You are giving yourself, and you are all you have.

Every day, you give enough.

Every day, you are enough.

Enough for your children…and enough for Jesus.

Mark 12:44—“For everyone cast (money) in out of their abundance, but she, from her utter neediness, cast in as much as she had—all her resources.” (MBT)

So Much More Than

kenny-smile-head-tiltThis is my second child, and first son, Kenny. He turned 12 this past week. He is sweet, caring, and funny. He likes Pokemon, Legos, and video games. He’s wonderful at playing with babies (they all seem to love him; even my 19-month-old godson gets more excited at seeing Kenny than he does at seeing me); he’s quick to sense that he might have hurt someone’s feelings, and to try to make it right; and he’s insanely creative. He loves to draw, play with his friends, and explore new things.

He also has Asperger’s Syndrome (the mildest form of autism).

But as you have read in the first paragraph, there’s so much more to Kenny than his syndrome. In fact, his syndrome is only one of a number of characteristics that make up the wonderful boy I love—and it’s not even the chief characteristic. It’s no better or worse than any other characteristic.

It just…is.

Kenny’s Asperger’s doesn’t sum him up any more than does the fact that he has big, brown eyes. It doesn’t tell you any more about him than does his build (he’s of medium height and weight), or the fact that he likes Angry Birds, or the story about when he gave me all his money upon my return home from the hospital after having Timmy, as a welcome-home present.

It tells you that he has more difficulties understanding and relating to people than neurotypical people (that’s you and I) do. It doesn’t tell you about the time when he accidentally grabbed a hot pan of brownies from the oven without potholders, and got badly burned on both palms and most of his fingers because he carefully set the hot pan down rather than drop it on the floor and ruin the brownies I’d made (thereby wasting my time).

Some people think that Kenny’s syndrome tells you more about him than most of his other qualities. In reality, it tells you far less than most of them, because it doesn’t tell you about either his character or his God-given uniqueness that has nothing to do with having a syndrome and everything to do with being a 12-year-old boy made in God’s image.

Why am I telling you all this? Because, my friend, I want you to realize that none of your characteristics that others (or even you) might consider undesirable defines you, either.

Do you fail to conform to our culture’s idea of what constitutes a beautiful physical appearance? Are you struggling with your finances? Are you not one of the “in crowd”?

Doesn’t. Matter.

Jesus wasn’t much to look at—it spells that out pretty plainly in Scripture (see Isaiah 53:2). As for His finances, He was homeless and had to be financially supported by women (a shameful thing in that day and time). Was He popular? Not with the “in crowd.” They hated Him and kept trying to kill Him. Are those things the most important things about Him? Hardly.

Have you sinned, maybe even in a big way? So did the Apostle Peter and the Apostle Paul, and King David, among many others. But their sin didn’t define them, and yours doesn’t define you.

Yes, Kenny has Asperger’s Syndrome. But by telling you that, I’m only telling you one thing about him. I’m not telling you who he is.

Don’t buy into Satan’s lie that any characteristic, or set thereof, says anything much about who you are, either.

Your identity is what God says it is—and He says you are His creation.

You’re not a sin or a deficiency or a fault.

You’re a divinely-created masterpiece—because God makes nothing less.

Genesis 1:27—So God created man in his own image. In the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. (KJV)

When God Refuses to Help You

Alexas_Fotos / Pixabay

A couple months ago, my family and I joined a new church. Because it is a fairly large church, I’m still learning many people’s names, especially the children’s. So when Timmy wanted to have a little girl named Taylor over for a playdate recently, I had a hard time making that happen. Here’s how the conversation went:

Timmy: “Mommy, can Taylor come over?”
Me: “Who’s Taylor?”
Timmy: “She’s a girl.”
Me: “I don’t know her mom’s name. If I don’t know her mom’s name, I can’t look up her phone number and call her and ask her to bring Taylor over.”
Timmy: “Then just call Taylor. She’ll tell you her mom’s phone number.”

I told Timmy that things don’t work that way, and I even tried to explain why. But Timmy wasn’t buying it. He obviously believed that he had provided sufficient information for me to locate Taylor and make a playdate happen, and that if I wasn’t doing so, it must be because I didn’t want to help him.

I thought about trying to explain some more, but I knew it wouldn’t change anything. Timmy was not willing to give up his preconceived ideas about how things work, listen to my explanation, and adjust his thinking. In his mind, I ought to be able to do exactly what he wanted me to do, and if I wasn’t doing that, there was only one possible explanation: I didn’t want to.

You and I look at this scenario and laugh. It seems silly to us that Timmy would question someone with an understanding of how things work that is (at least, at this point) vastly superior to his. It’s even more ridiculous that Timmy would come to a false conclusion about my willingness to help simply because I didn’t do what he wanted.

Yet you and I do the same thing to God. We bring our limited understanding to the table, believing that obviously, the best thing for Him to do would be to do what we think He should. Sure, we know His understanding is far superior to ours, and we even acknowledge that He is working out His plans and purposes in ways we may never comprehend. But just let Him act like the far superior Being that He is by rightly refusing one of our requests, and we conclude that He doesn’t really care. Doesn’t really love us. Doesn’t really want to help.

That’s just plain ridiculous.

Who are we to think we can understand Him well enough to rightly conclude something negative about Him, especially when His superiority over us far, far exceeds even our intellectual superiority over our children?

We are His creation…not His peer.

Job 36:23—Who has prescribed his ways for him, or said to him, ‘You have done wrong?’ (NIV)

Why You Can’t Appreciate God’s Grace

Jills / Pixabay

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.

God’s grace is, indeed, amazing. In fact, it’s absolutely unfathomable that God would choose to take on human form, come to earth, live among us, then sacrifice Himself in one of the most gruesome methods of execution ever devised, all so that He could save…well…sinners like us.

We possess no merit in ourselves whatsoever that would make us worthy of being saved. To say, “Well, of course God would choose to save me. Just look at me!” would rightly be condemned by us as the height (or perhaps the depth) of spiritual arrogance. As Christians, we acknowledge that our salvation came about only as a result of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, and not because of anything we ourselves contributed. In other words, His merit, not our own, secured our salvation.

Amazing grace, indeed.

But have we ever really realized just how amazing it is? And do we realize, now that our eternal destiny is assured, how much we continue to need it?

I don’t think we do. Because despite the fact that we intellectually assent to being a “wretch” who didn’t deserve salvation and still doesn’t, when it comes right down to it, we don’t believe we’re all that bad.

Let me prove it to you.

Most of us (myself included), when we have had a bad day, will describe it more or less like this: “I was so tired when I got up this morning. My daughter woke me up when she had a nightmare, and I never really got back to sleep. Then my husband was running late to work, so he didn’t have time to take the garbage out, and he dumped that chore on me on his way out the door. So I took the garbage out myself, and when I got back inside, I found out I couldn’t put a new plastic bag in the can because we were out of plastic bags. So then, I had to get my oldest daughter out the door to school and load up my preschooler and the baby so we could make an unexpected trip to the store for trash bags. By the time I got home, I was way behind on everything I had planned for that day.”

Sound familiar? We’ve all had days where we felt like we were entitled to a heaping portion of sympathy. But I wonder why, in describing the day above, we leave out significant details. I wonder why we don’t describe the day like this: “I spent this morning choosing to overreact to perceived slights and verbally punishing people with harsh words, tone, and gestures when they failed to please me. I took out my anger on others who were not capable of defending themselves against me; I elevated my desires over everyone else’s; and I refused to serve my family while at the same time demanding that they serve me willingly. To top it all off, I blamed others for my sin and punished them for provoking me.”

Actually, I know exactly why we would describe the same day in the first way but not the second. It’s because we are so oblivious to the wretchedness of our own sin that we don’t even realize what miserable offenders we are.

We hear Bible stories about King Ahab, who approved of Naboth’s murder but later repented and received grace, and we think, “That was awful! He deserved punishment!” We identify with righteous Naboth and rail against the injustice done to him, never realizing that God intends for us to realize that we are Ahab.

Or we hear Jesus telling the story of the Prodigal Son and identify with the son who has finally come to his senses, not realizing that Jesus meant for us to realize that we are the unloving, ungracious older brother.

If only we would look directly at our sin long enough and honestly enough to see it for the horrific, destructive weapon that it is. If only we would contemplate the wounds we’ve inflicted on others until the awfulness of what we’ve done breaks our heart and drives us to our knees. If only we would ever feel tears rolling down our cheeks as we fall to our knees and wail, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”

Because if we ever did those things, Grace Himself would meet us there in the moment of our deepest pain and most desperate unworthiness. And as He poured Himself into our lives and filled our spirit to overflowing, we would begin to taste how magnificent His grace truly is.

Oh, God, be merciful to us, sinners, for Your glory, and that we may receive Your grace.

Luke 18:13—“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’” (NIV)