Megan Breedlove

When You Don’t Win

Megan Breedlove November 2, 2015 No Comments

Ahhhhh, cake walks. The anticipation of maybe, just maybe, hearing your number called and getting to choose the cake of your dreams.

I actually remember one particular cake walk from sometime when I was in elementary school. I won! I walked over to the table and chose the cake I had had my eye on all night: a sheet cake decorated in myriad colors with the word “Mexico” and all kinds of squiggles and designs. That. cake. was. beautiful!

Recently, my children participated in a cake walk at a party. Timmy became discouraged the first few times he didn’t hear his number called, so I picked him up and walked around with him. I held him for several rounds, and as time went by, and most of the other kids won cakes, Timmy began quietly fussing (read: whining). I reminded him that it’s not possible to win all the time and reassured him that he still had a chance.

And then……victory on number 19!

By this point, Timmy was hanging his head and fussing continuously. “You won, Timmy!” I exclaimed. He continued to whine. “Timmy, you won!” I repeated. More whining.

I began to walk away from the game, toward the prize table, because I was embarrassed. Did he not understand that he had won? What was the problem?

“Timmy, why are you fussing?” I asked quietly. “You won!”

“I wanted to win lots of times,” Timmy said, disappointed.

My first thought was: Be grateful you won at all!

My second thought was: Yeah, I understand, buddy. I hate it when I don’t win as often as I’d like.

Like in life. I know it’s not realistic to expect to get what I want all the time. But I’d like to. And sometimes, when I don’t, I get disappointed.

Here are some recent times I can remember not getting what I wanted:

• My child embarrassed me in public.
• I tried to learn a particular skill, and it didn’t turn out well at all.
• I didn’t receive an invitation I was hoping for.
• Someone assumed the worst about my character.

These are not the only unpleasant things I’ve faced in the past few weeks; there have also been some that were traumatic.

But in the same time period, I’ve also encountered these circumstances:

• My child spent time drawing a sweet picture for me and telling me how much she loved me.
• I received a compliment from a student who enjoys my teaching style.
• I was invited to have lunch with a friend.
• Several family members went out of their way to verbally affirm their confidence in my character and their love for me.

So, I have a choice. I can complain that I had to face the first set of circumstances, or I can rejoice that I experienced the second.

It’s the same choice you have when you’re disappointed.

Grieve if you need to; it’s okay!

But don’t forget the good things.

Job 1:21—Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD. (KJV)

How to Know What’s True

Megan Breedlove October 12, 2015 No Comments

Several times a week, I come across links in my Facebook feed to articles that either 1) try to alarm you, or 2) try to stir up your emotions (whether positive or negative). I guess that’s good, in a way. If something alarming is going on out there, I want to know about it. And I do sometimes enjoy feel-good stories. The problem is that often, these articles aren’t true.

They get shared thousands of times because people simply don’t question what they’re told—especially when emotions are involved.

I came across a perfectly-worded statement of this principle the other day. Lindsey, Jessica, and I were watching one of their favorite shows, which I also happen to like because of its humor (which is well-done and appropriate). One of the characters said to another, “None of that’s true!” The second character replied, “But it feels true. That makes it true.”

No. No, it doesn’t.

Yet we sometimes act as if what feels true must really be true, or the opposite, if something doesn’t feel true, it can’t be true.

Why in the world would we appoint our emotions to be arbiters of the truth? We are so fickle, emotionally speaking. Our emotions are swayed by our circumstances, the weather, what a friend just did or didn’t say, and even our hormones. They are far from reliable indicators of how we ought to see things and what truth really is.

Even when we read Scripture, we don’t really absorb it unless our emotions get in line with what it says. If the Bible tells us God loves us, but we don’t feel loved, then we don’t really believe it. If it tells us something is sin, but it feels right or good to us, we tell ourselves it really can’t be all that bad.

We need to accept as truth what God has told us is true, and we need to believe it and act upon it, no matter what our emotions tell us.

Having an emotionally dull quiet time doesn’t mean we haven’t worshiped; likewise, having an emotional experience doesn’t necessarily mean we have. Let’s look at what God says about worship, not about what we feel.

Feeling unloved by God doesn’t mean that we are. In fact, the Bible tells us over and over that God loves us. The truth is that He’s madly, passionately in love with us, even though we won’t always feel it. “Not feeling it” isn’t the problem, though. There can be many reason why we have difficulty absorbing God’s love, and some of them are in no way our fault. The problem comes in when we fail to replace the lies our emotions tell us with the truth God’s Word tells us.

And what about feeling forgiven? I’ve heard many people say that they believe God forgives them; they just don’t feel forgiven. They continue to dwell on feelings of guilt because that’s what it feels like they should do. But if they’ve confessed, they are forgiven. Emotions like guilt have no authority over us and must be taken captive to the truth of God’s Word.

I know it’s hard to believe and act upon truth when our emotions scream otherwise. But I choose to stand upon the truth of God instead of what my emotions tell me. I hope you do, too.

Psalm 25:5—Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. (NIV)

And to the Mothers of Young Children, Write…

Megan Breedlove August 17, 2015 No Comments

The 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