Pony on a Stick

Two weeks ago, my husband and I took our kids to the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo. For those of you who might not live near where rodeos are common, this event is a BIG deal in our area and large portions of the state. The stock show and rodeo take up several full pages of the paper each day with pictures and results of the various contests.

You know what the rodeo part means. The “stock show” part involves thousands of animals being shown, some for the purpose of being sold, and some just to win a prize. There are cows, goats, chickens, rabbits, and many others. And, of course, steers. In fact, the “star” of the stock show is whichever steer is judged near the end of the event to be the Grand Champion. This steer usually sells for almost $200,000, which goes directly to the child or teenager showing him.

But if you’re like our family, and you’re not showing any animals, you probably just enter through the front gates. These provide the best access to things other than the animal barns, such as the petting zoo, the midway rides, and the ponies on a stick. I’m not talking about those toys that have a pony head attached to a stick, where you straddle it and ride the pony all over the house. I mean real ponies, harnessed to spokes in a horizontal wheel. For a fee, kids get to choose a pony and ride it as the ponies walk in a circle, rotating the wheel. If you really want to fork over some money, the attendants will take a picture of your child on the pony. Otherwise, you can lean over the railing and do it yourself as your child and his or her pony pass by.

Jessica Riding a PonyI can identify with those ponies. As a mom, I too feel like I sometimes go in circles, not really accomplishing anything. It seems that I’m there just to entertain the children when they want my attention. The rest of the time, I’m just…tied down. Can’t go anywhere, because the children might need me. Can’t roam free, because I have a job to do. Don’t receive much attention, except when people want something from me. Almost never get a thank you. Not glamorous, and definitely not the star of the show.

It’s easy to feel like that as a mom, isn’t it? Like what we do doesn’t really matter much in the overall scheme of things. It sure isn’t glamorous. Ask the world what it considers a glamorous job, and motherhood won’t make the list. The big money goes to those who do what society considers really important—the grand champions. Not to us. Not to moms.

In my poem “Loving Jesus”, I’ve already addressed one reason why what we do matters immensely. But I want to make a different point this time. We moms may not be the stars of the show. We’re not the ones whose pictures fill up page after page of the paper. Our jobs may not matter much, in terms of society’s values.

But we matter to our children.

If my family ever arrives at the stock show one year to find that the ponies on a stick aren’t happening, my kids will be disappointed, but they’ll find another activity to replace it. But if I am ever not present in my children’s lives for the long term, they will never fully get over it.

We matter to our children, whether they are ours by birth, adoption, or marriage, in a way words don’t fully describe. We fill a space in our child’s heart that was placed there just for us. Children instinctively love their mothers and depend on them in a way that goes far beyond what they know how to express. Sure, somebody else could change their diapers or fix their meals. But only you can touch that place deep within their souls that needs a mom, and not just any mom, but you.

Sure, there are other loving people in your child’s life who are important to your child. But none of them can replace you. God has put a need in your child’s heart for you that cannot be met by any of those other people.

You may never get your picture in the paper for being a grand champion. But you will still have succeeded in your calling, even on those days when you burn their toast. You will have mattered to your children in a way no one else can.

1 Thessalonians 1:4—For we know, [moms] loved by God, that he has chosen you.

Nothin’ But Gum

My youngest daughter Jessica will be turning four in a little less than two weeks. Yesterday, I asked her for ideas of what gifts she might like to receive for her birthday. She thought about it, then said, “I don’t know.”

“Would you like a toy for your Squinkies?” I asked. “Or maybe the jet for Littlest Pet Shop?”

“The jet for Littlest Pet Shop!” she said. “No, wait. How about…gum?”

“O-kay, you can have gum,” I said.

“Would I have to share?” Jessica asked politely.

“No, this would be your birthday gum,” I said. “It would all be for you.”

“Yay!” she said excitedly, a grin lighting up her face.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised at her response. Despite the fact that Jessica loves to play with her toys, especially when someone will play with her, she has frequently shown more excitement over gum than she has over a new toy. In fact, once she received ten dollars from her grandma for her birthday. “Can I buy a gumball?” she asked hopefully.

“Sweetie, you can buy a lot of gumballs for ten dollars,” I said.

“Yay!” she responded.

I wonder how old she’ll be before gum isn’t all that impressive anymore…or before she realizes that she can ask for both gum and toys. On the one hand, I’m very glad she’s content with simple things for now. On the other hand, I want her to know there’s much more available to her.

I bet that’s how God feels with respect to our requests. Certainly He’s glad when we’re content with the basics, as far as material things are concerned. But regarding spiritual things, I bet He wishes we would ask for so much more than we do.

Our prayers tend to be small. Limited. We ask for money to pay the bills, for physical health, or for a new job. Granted, those are all good things, and we should bring these requests to God when they arise. But if all we pray for is physical or material things, we’re missing a huge part of what prayer is supposed to be about.

The Bible tells us that God can do far more than we can even ask or imagine, spiritually speaking. He can grant us spiritual victories over temptation or discouragement. He can produce the fruit of the Spirit in us. He can change our hearts to love someone we really don’t like. He can make us bold witnesses for His Name’s sake. He can fill us with joy despite our circumstances. He can make His own glory shine through us. Yet how often do we ask Him for any of these things?

I know it’s easy to get caught up in the seemingly more urgent material needs that we have. Happens to me too. But if we pray about those things to the exclusion of spiritual things, we’re missing something. And if we think we need our husband to get a job, or need our allergies to stop bothering us, more than we need spiritual strength, we’re mistaken.

What are you asking God for, spiritually speaking? If you’re like me, too often the answer is not much. Or perhaps, again like me, you remember to ask for a few days in a row, but the next thing you know, it’s been a month since you’ve prayed about it.

Will you try something with me this week? Let’s ask God to open our eyes to the spiritual blessings we’re missing out on because we don’t ask. Let’s ask Him to show us what kinds of spiritual things we need to be praying about. Then, let’s ask Him to grant us the desire to do so, and the ability to remember to engage in this new habit.

You see, Satan doesn’t want us to pray about the spiritual things. He’s probably thrilled if we spend all our time praying about our car or our house or our dog. He knows, better than we do sometimes, that it’s the prayers for spiritual things that are the most dangerous to his kingdom. He wants us to forget to pray, or not to realize the importance of it.

But greater is He who is in us than he who is in the world. And He who is in us is the one who will go on this adventure with us. Let’s let Him lead us on the most fantastically fulfilling adventure of our lives. Will you try it?

Ephesians 3:20-21—Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

I John 4:4—Little children, you are from God and have overcome them, for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.

Bath Time

I remember a time a few years ago when I had a couple of my kids in the bathtub at the same time. By now, I don’t even remember which two were in there. But I remember hearing the squealing and splashing. Splashing that sounded more like a tsunami, as in huge quantities of water getting moved from place to place.

I went to check on them and opened the door to the bathroom. They froze in mid-splash as I surveyed the mess, waiting to see if they were going to get in trouble. Sure enough, there was water everywhere. And in one of those moments where I really got it right and have been glad ever since that I did, I smiled and said, “Have fun. Splash as much as you want.” I closed the door and listened to the giggling and splashing start back up.

I guess it’s safe to say that my kids love bath time, or at least the time they get to spend playing in the water. Getting clean is just a fringe benefit for them. But I’ve realized something, and that’s what I want to share with you tonight.

Yes, the analogy I want to draw is that of getting clean. Kids get physically clean in the bathtub; the Holy Spirit cleanses us spiritually. But the lesson I want us to learn from the analogy isn’t quite so obvious. It’s simply this: My kids never get out of the tub wondering whether or not they’re clean. They assume they are. On the other hand, when we moms ask God for forgiveness and cleansing, we often walk away wondering whether we’re really cleansed or feeling like we’re not.

That’s because we don’t really believe that something as simple as a “bath” can get us clean. We don’t fully believe Jesus when He says that by asking forgiveness—by taking a bath—we are indeed cleansed. We figure that what we’ve done is so bad, one bath couldn’t possibly take care of removing the stain. Or we think there has to be something more to it than merely bathing (repenting and asking forgiveness).

But there isn’t. That’s it. That’s all there is to it.

True, my kids will need a bath again soon. Tonight is a bath night, for instance, and I don’t expect them to go the rest of their lives without getting dirty. But the next bath they take won’t be for the purpose of washing away the dirt they washed away tonight. That dirt is already gone. Instead, they will bathe away any new dirt they’ve gotten into since then.

Same with us. Once we’ve repented, asked for, and received forgiveness, we never need to be forgiven again for that same sin. It’s gone, washed away down the drain somewhere. Yes, we’ll need to “bathe” again the next time we sin, but that will be for new sin—not the sin we asked forgiveness for tonight.

That is the kind of cleansing Jesus offers us. He washes our sin so far away from us we can’t get it back. Yet we spend the rest of our lives in the bathtub because we believe our sin isn’t really gone, when in reality, it went down the drain a long time ago.

What sin do you believe is still with you, despite the fact you’ve repented and asked for forgiveness? Hear Jesus speaking to you: It’s gone. I took care of it. It’s down the drain.

Friend, the bath is over. It’s time to stop washing and start praising Jesus and His infinite mercy. Let’s not spend any more time trying to make complete what Jesus already fully took care of. When He says gone, He means gone. Let’s believe Him and get out of the tub.

Psalm 103:12—As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.

Safe

God has blessed my daughter Lindsey (now five-and-a-half) with a sweet, sensitive heart. The advantages of this are that she cares how others feel and is quick to notice someone who needs a kind or encouraging word. The disadvantage is that she gets easily hurt when others are unkind.

One particular day as I sat at the computer, Lindsey came back to join me with a solemn look on her face. I asked her what the matter was, and she explained that Kenny had been talking to her in some way she didn’t like (at this point, I don’t even remember what it was he said), and that things just weren’t going well between them. I swiveled in my chair so I could lift Lindsey onto my lap. “Do you need some time back here with Mommy?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, snuggling against me. “’Cuz I know nothing will go wrong with you.”

I cuddled her close, infinitely thankful that her little spirit felt safe with me, that I could be a refuge for her when things weren’t going right in her world. Not that I always get it right. But apparently, by the grace of God, I get it right often enough that Mommy’s presence is a safe place for her.

You and I have a safe place too, though our safe place is different from Lindsey’s. Our safe place—in our Father’s presence—is always safe. But we don’t usually think of God as a safe place. We see Him as Someone who is concerned with our proper performance to the exclusion of caring about our spirit. But in reality, though He will indeed convict us of sin, He will no longer condemn us. Jesus has purchased our peace with Him and He freely pours out His love upon us and offers us a place to be at rest.

Wow. I know I sure need a place like that—a Person like that—and I bet you do too. We need Someone with whom we can be ourselves and still be completely safe. One of the most amazing things about God is that He Himself is that Person for us. You know how secure and loved you want your child to feel in your presence? Multiply that infinitely, and that’s how secure and loved you and I can feel in God’s presence.

Why then don’t we take Him up on His offer to be this for us? I think it’s because either we don’t fully understand what He’s offering, or we don’t fully believe He will give it to us. We just don’t grasp the immensity of His love for us. Yet the only reason we are able to love our children is because we are made in His image and therefore possess a fraction of His ability to love.

You want Someone who will comfort you when life’s not going right? You’ve got Him. You need Someone who truly understands you when nobody else does? You’ve got Him. You long for Someone who loves you infinitely, showers His love upon you, and offers you peace not just when things are going well, but always? You’ve got Him.

Crawl up into His lap this week. Better yet, do it today. Rest in His arms as you think about how much you love your children, and realize that He loves you far more. Any ideas of what you want to be for your children are mere shadows of what He is for you. So take Him up on what He offers. Receive His love and all the other benefits that come with being His child. And then, yes, extend those to your children.

Matthew 7:11—If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!

Romans 8:1—There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Revelation 5:9—And they sang a new song: “You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation.”

Not My Will

I promised last time that we would look at what joy and victory in the midst of anguish look like, and we will. We’ll examine the best example the Bible gives us about Someone who went through incredible anguish and yet remained whole, even while His body was torn apart.

The scene takes place in a garden. Jesus and His disciples have come to this favorite location because Jesus is in anguish over what is about to happen to Him. He knows what’s coming and can barely stand it. So He takes His three closest disciples apart from the rest of the group and asks them to pray for Him in His hour of need. He then goes on a little further to be by Himself, and He pours out such anguish to His Father that blood vessels in His skin burst, and His blood falls to the ground like drops of sweat. But as if this weren’t enough to convince us that Jesus knows true agony, Jesus Himself provides a further detail, telling His disciples, “”My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” (Matt. 26:38).

Did you catch that? Jesus was so anguished it felt like the pain could kill Him. And that’s before the cross, before the physical ravages He endured. This is emotional pain He’s talking about.

Have you ever felt that kind of pain? If you have, you know what Jesus is talking about. Sometimes, grief and suffering are so great that it seems like they’re killing us. But did you know that Jesus understands? Not because He’s God and understands everything, but because He’s felt that way?

So then if Jesus knows the kind of pain we’re talking about—because He’s experienced it—yet He made it through, He is our best example for how we can still experience joy and victory even when circumstances are so bad we feel like we’re dying.

First, we need to realize that joy doesn’t mean we don’t feel pain, or that we like our circumstances. Jesus felt plenty of pain, and He sure wasn’t thrilled about what He was about to suffer. So what did His joy look like? It looked like worship. Jesus chose to worship His Father by being obedient even in the midst of incalculable anguish, thereby demonstrating that He believed His Father was still good and still worthy of worship even when His ways cause “sorrow to the point of death”.

When tragedy shatters our happiness, it’s easy to change our view of God. God must not be as loving as we thought, or not as caring, or not as good. But just as Jesus did in the midst of sorrow, we must hold on to our knowledge of who God is and not allow our emotions to determine what we believe God’s character to be. True joy comes only from God Himself, and worshipping Him is the only way we can experience joy in the midst of mourning.

What did Jesus’ victory look like? We know, of course, that He died on the cross and was raised by the Father three days later. That certainly was victory. But that victory began to be won in the garden, when Jesus determined that no matter the cost, He would still worship God no matter what. In that moment, the battle was won, and all that was left was for the details to play out.

We might not experience the victory of triumph over our circumstances until we reach heaven. But we can experience another kind of victory—triumph in our circumstances—even while they still rage around us. This is the kind of victory God offers us now, even though we may have to wait for the ultimate kind. It is not a kind of victory that erases our sorrow, but it is a kind that means we’ve won the battle.

In the midst of terrible circumstances, I would usually prefer that they had simply never happened. You probably would too. But that’s not a choice. We can’t go back and change what happened. The only thing we can do is cling to God and find our joy in Him, even while the tears stream down our faces. We can rely on what we know to be true about Him—that He loves and cares for us deeply, despite the circumstances He has caused or allowed—and derive our joy not from a perfectly designed situation, but from the only One who is a source of true joy no matter how life is going. And we can choose, as Jesus did, to worship Him no matter what, and experience a victory we never would have chosen, but the only one that can comfort our soul in the midst of pain.

I don’t know what kind of pain you are facing today. But I do know that God is there to meet you in it. Choose Him as your joy and victory now, in the midst of your sorrow. You can’t choose different circumstances. But you can choose to worship. No matter what.

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.

Changing the Rules

This evening, Lindsey and I were playing the board game Sorry. I love that game. It’s relatively simple so that even young children can play it, and it’s fun. Sometimes they win; sometimes I win.

Tonight, I won. Lindsey hadn’t really been paying attention to the game before then. She would focus long enough to take her turns, then start playing with other objects around her. But when I announced that I had won, she zeroed in on my four pawns sitting in the Home circle. She froze, with an uh-oh look on her face. Then she reached into the box, grabbed a yellow pawn and a red one, and plunked them down in my Start circle. “You forgot about these,” she said matter-of-factly.

Problem solved, right? If things don’t work out, you just change the rules.

In a game of Sorry, we can sometimes get away with that. In real life, we can’t. That’s because when things don’t turn out right, there’s usually no way to change the rules. You’re stuck with the results you didn’t want, and there’s no getting around it.

The only problem is, we don’t realize this. We think that when something bad happens, there has to be a way to undo it. But sometimes there isn’t. Sure, we can mitigate the circumstances. We can find something to do that will take away our pain, at least partly. But we can’t pretend that we really did get the job, or that our disabled child is really normal, or that death or a divorce didn’t really happen. We can’t go back and we can’t go around, so we’re stuck with going through.

That’s when we usually balk: when we realize there’s no way out but to accept the circumstances and feel the pain we can’t avoid. It happened, we’re trapped, and the only way out is to move forward.

Why write about something depressing at Christmas? Because many, many of us have been there or are still there. Because sometimes when we’re stuck, Christmas is the hardest time of all. But most of all, because 2,000 years ago, a tiny baby was born so He could help us through the things we can’t survive on our own.

He came to help us find the way out of our sin. He lived 33 years, then died on a cross to take the punishment for our sin so we wouldn’t have to. Through His birth, life, death, and resurrection, He made a way for us to be reconciled to God. No longer do we have to remain God’s enemies. We can be His friends now, His dearly beloved children.

He also came to help us find the way out of our circumstances. No, not necessarily to undo them, but to set us free from having to be trapped in them. Apart from Christ, when something bad happens to us, it’s impossible to rise above the effects. Sure, some people seem to make progress by sheer willpower or by a vague kind of spirituality. But this is not the complete victory Christ promises.

This victory doesn’t mean the circumstances won’t have happened to us. After all, Christ is called the victor over death, and death certainly happened to Him. But like Him, we can become victors over what has happened.

What does it mean to have victory over a circumstance we never wanted? Just this: that our soul’s security and joy remains ultimately unshaken. Our happiness may wind up in tatters, and we may be shaken for a time. But we can know that because of Christ, because of His love for us, because of the way He holds us secure when our very soul trembles uncontrollably, we will ultimately triumph over what happened.

I don’t know exactly what your triumph will look like, or when it will come. But I do know that it will come, because God has promised not to leave us or forsake us. He’s also promised that one day, we will enter heaven, and we will never sorrow again. Sometimes, when the pain is at its fiercest, we wonder whether it will ever end. It will. I don’t say so because it’s what I hope is true, or even because it’s what I have experienced. I say so because it’s what God has promised, and I trust Him.

You may be stuck with some horrible circumstances you never wanted. But you won’t be stuck with them forever. One day, in heaven, you will never sorrow about them again. And in the meantime, you can still experience joy even in the midst of heartrending anguish.

Next week, we’ll look at what joy and victory in the midst of anguish look like. I don’t promise to have all the answers. But I will share with you at least one answer God has provided. It’s one that He wants to use to minister to your heart.

Let’s meet here next week.

Psalm 121:1-2—I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

Tons of Water

There’s something I love about taking my kids somewhere in the van. Something about driving a van full of children, all of whom are mine, makes me feel more than abundantly blessed. Four of the five people I love most in the world (the fifth is my husband, their daddy) all right there with me, and going somewhere together. How could I be more blessed?

The other day, we were going somewhere in the van, and I realized I needed to take some medicine. The only problem was, I didn’t have any water. Knowing that we often carry bottles of water with us, and hoping someone had a leftover one in the back somewhere, I called out, “Does anybody have some water I can have? I need to take some medicine.”

Bottle of Water“I do!” Lindsey responded. “I have tons of water.”

I stretched my hand back to receive the bottle from Ellie, who had received it from Lindsey. As I felt Ellie place the bottle in my hand, I brought it forward and saw…a third of a bottle.

“Tons” of water. A third of a bottle.

It was certainly enough to take my medicine, but that wasn’t the point anymore. What struck me as I looked at the couple inches of water in the bottom was how Lindsey saw it as plenty—“tons”. She offered what she had and saw it as abundant.

I bet that’s the same attitude with which the boy with the five loaves and two fishes offered his lunch to the disciples. And I’m absolutely certain that it’s how Jesus wants us to view the material blessings in our lives.

Too often, we look at what we have and see it as “not much”. Especially at Christmas, many people seem more likely to think about all the things they can’t buy that they wish they could, instead of rejoicing in the things they can buy. Do most of us really look at the material Christmas we are providing for our children and see it as “tons” of presents? Or do we more often see it as “adequate”, or even “insufficient”?

And what about the rest of the year? Do we look at our houses and cars and see them as blessings, or as “not as big/new as we wish they were”? Do we view our husband as a huge blessing from God, or do we mainly see his faults? Do we look at our children as blessings far greater than we deserve, or as problems to be dealt with? What about our material possessions? Are they “more than sufficient”, or are they “not as much as what our friends/neighbors have”?

I’m not suggesting merely a Pollyanna outlook that calls white, black and black, white. I’m not recommending being merely a “glass half full” person (though that is valuable). I’m urging all of us to realize that what we have is what God has given us, and that if it’s what He’s given us, it’s enough. I’m encouraging us to be people who recognize the truth that whatever God does is “enough”, even if it might look like only a third of a bottle (or less). I’m pointing out that we would have an incredible effect on a watching world by demonstrating our satisfaction with God’s provision. We’d show them how great He is by living our lives as if He is enough (which He is) and what He provides is enough (which it is).

Even difficult financial times can become the means by which we demonstrate our love for God and our trust in His provision, even when we don’t see how it can possibly be enough. Will we trust Him only when we see where “enough” money is coming from? Or will we find what He provides to be sufficient, maybe not for our comfort, but to accomplish His purposes?

No matter how much money we have, it could all be gone in an instant. The sufficiency of our material blessings rests not in how many we have, but in the fact that God has said they are enough. Let’s be grateful for what we have, no matter how much that is. Let’s see it not as “not enough”, “insufficient”, or “less than”. Let’s be like Lindsey, and see God’s provision as “tons”.

John 1:16—From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another.

A World Like This

As of today, I’m almost 28 weeks pregnant with a son. Maybe that’s why I’ve had baby boys on my mind a lot lately. That, and the fact we’re about to celebrate Jesus’ birth. I’ve been thinking about what it must have been like for the Almighty Christ to be born as a virtually helpless human infant, to subject Himself to hunger and fatigue and needing to have His diaper changed. It’s incredible to me that He would take on these limitations, entrusting Himself to very human parents—even ones who loved God—and making His home among more human beings, some of whom hated Him and eventually succeeded in killing Him.

That’s because the world then was a lot like the world is today. No, people in the first century didn’t have iPhones or computers, but they did have many of the same problems we now have. And Jesus came to earth to show them that they didn’t have to live like that anymore.

He came to show them—and us—that we no longer have to be strangers from God…

…no longer have to suffer broken relationships…

…no longer have to be ruled by greed and hate…

…never again have to worry…

…never again have to fear we won’t be taken care of…

…never again have to wonder if God cares.

He came to a world distorted by sin and showed us that it didn’t have to be that way, that even now, in the midst of a messed-up society, we can live in joy. We can walk in intimate fellowship with God and the confidence that this world isn’t all there is waiting for us. We can know that we’re taken care of and that one day, everything is going to be okay. We can know who God is because we’ve seen Him in the person of Jesus.

You and I haven’t seen Jesus with our eyes—at least, not exactly, not in the human form He took on. But we can see Him clearly in the pages of the Bible. We can know what He is like, and therefore, what God the Father is like. We can walk intimately by faith with Him on this earth and then face-to-face in heaven.

I’ve known all these things for a long time. I’m sure you have, too. But until recently, I had never thought about how Jesus came to a world just like mine. The world I live in is full of wars and lying and betrayals, killing and stealing, hate and neglect and selfishness. So was Jesus’ world. He came to a world just like mine. He was frustrated and offended by it sometimes, too. He was angry. And by His words and actions, He showed the world that there is something better than all that, not just in eternity, but right here and now.

Jesus loved and still loves people in the world. Yes, even the ones who don’t please Him. And His way of showing people that things could be better was to come among us, love us, and serve as our example. Too often, instead of loving the world, I roll my eyes at it get disgusted with the way things are going, and complain about it, when what I should be doing is pouring out Jesus’ love.

Maybe you can identify with me. Maybe you, too, have a hard time loving a world like this. But Jesus didn’t, and doesn’t. He knew exactly how to show love to us. And He wants us to show that same love to a world that desperately needs it.

Does Jesus’ love show through you and me? Do people see our lives and realize how much Jesus loves them? Even people who are “undesirable”, or who do undesirable things? I pray that they do.

May you and I become more like Jesus, especially in the way we show love to those He has created.

John 3:16—For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

The Mooch

My daughter Jessica is a mooch. She’s a happy, cheerful little mooch. In fact, she admits to being one. Sometimes, she will say, “Mommy? Guess what I’m going to do after I finish my lunch.”

“What?” I ask, as if I don’t know.

“I’m going to mooch your lunch,” she’ll say with a mischievous grin.

Other times, there’s no warning at all. As I sit eating a snack, I’ll sense a presence next to me, and I’ll look up to see Jessica standing there with her mouth open, her index finger pointing to her tongue, a grin crinkling her eyes. “Aaaaahhhhh,” she’ll say cheerfully when I notice her.

Jessica comes to me when she knows I have what she wants. She comes confidently, expecting to receive what she asks for. She comes to her mother the way we should come to our Father: eagerly, cheerfully, and expectantly.

I’ll confess that I don’t always approach God that way. I sometimes ask Him for things, knowing He can provide them, but not really expecting Him to. I don’t come confidently; I come out of a sense of obligation. I know I’m supposed to make my requests known to God, so I do. Not that I think it’ll do any good, I think to myself.

Maybe you too sometimes have difficulty believing God will grant what you desire. True, there are times when God says no to our requests. He knows far better than we do what would be a good thing for us, and He sometimes says no when we think He should say yes. But that doesn’t mean we should approach Him merely out of a sense of duty, not out of a sense of expectancy. You see, each time we make a request of God, He grants us what’s best for us. It may not be what we asked for, but if not, it’s going to be something better.

This can be a tough pill to swallow. Some requests seem so obviously good that we can’t imagine their ever being denied. But God often denies the seemingly good in order to give us what is certainly best.

That’s because He desires to give good gifts to His children. He rejoices in giving us what is best for us. He looks forward to our requests, because He knows He will have the chance to give us a gift. Yet when He goes for the “best” instead of the “good”, we get mad or hurt. We think He’s done nothing, when in reality, He’s done even better than what we asked for.

I’m still learning this truth myself. Even now, I can think of situations where I might make a certain request, be denied, then wonder how God’s actual answer could be better than what I asked for. But either I believe God or I don’t. Either He knows what He’s doing, or He doesn’t. Either He’s God in times of suffering just as much as He is in times of joy, or He isn’t.

I choose to believe that He is. I hope you will choose the same. Then we can both look forward to bringing our requests to God, knowing that either way—whether our request is denied or fulfilled—we will receive something good.

Psalm 107:9—For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things.

In Everything?

Three more days, and Thanksgiving will be here. We’ll watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, eat too much Thanksgiving dinner with family and friends (sweet potatoes, here I come!), and lie around for the rest of the day, too stuffed to move. Somewhere during the day, my husband and I will sit our kids down and have them record what they’re thankful for, as we do every year. Then we’ll pray, and they’ll thank God for things like home and family, friends, their favorite stuffed animals, and our cat.

I’ll tell them that of all the things on earth, I’m most thankful for them and their daddy/my husband. I’ll mention that I appreciate our home, the fact that we have enough food—in fact, more than enough—and all the material blessings God has given us. Those are the things that come immediately to mind when I stop to think about what I’m thankful for.

This year, I’m thankful for other things, too, even though they certainly don’t come to mind first. That’s because these things are all tied to pain in my life, and since I don’t like to dwell on the pain, I don’t usually think about the gratitude I could feel in the midst of those situations, either. But God tells me to be thankful in all circumstances. So this year, I will make it a point to be thankful for the following:

  • the strength God has built into my life by helping me deal with broken and twisted relationships. If it had been up to me, I would have chosen for certain experiences to be much different. But that’s not how life went. I can either focus on the painful parts, or I can choose to be thankful that God has made me stronger by teaching me to thrive despite it all.
  • the friends I’ve made in the course of taking my son to his therapy appointments. Kenny has Asperger’s Disorder, and though he’s doing great, he still has some skills to learn. I would not have chosen Asperger’s for him, but I can choose to be grateful for all the friends we’ve made along the journey.
  • the many times I’ve had to rest during this pregnancy. It would be easy for me to be resentful of or ungrateful for those times and to see them as burdens, not as opportunities. But God has given me the gift of allowing me to stop and rest more than I would have otherwise if I had felt better. Instead of bemoaning the fact that I’m not as high-energy as usual, I choose to appreciate the gift of rest time.

I’m not going to deny any of my painful experiences or pretend that they don’t exist. I don’t suggest you do that either. But I do encourage you to look beyond the things you don’t like to the blessings they have brought about. The circumstance itself may be undesirable and painful, but even in the midst of pain, there is always something good. Don’t let yourself get so focused on the pain that you forget to look for the blessings. They’re in there. Somewhere in the midst of the chaos or hurt, they’re very real and present. So find something to thank God for despite what might be the worst pain of your life. Being thankful isn’t going to make all your pain go away. But that blessing that you haven’t thought about? It’s a diamond in the midst of all the coal. Don’t get so focused on the coal that you forget to look for the diamond. You’ll still be stuck with the coal anyway. But at least you’ll have the diamond too.

1 Thessalonians 5:18—Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.