One Hand Only

A few days ago, the kids and I were hanging out in the living room. I was sitting on the couch watching them all perform “tricks” for me, which appeared to involve various feats of balancing themselves on the furniture or the floor in some creative way. “Mommy, wook at me!” Jessica invited as she balanced herself with her head, both hands, and only one foot on the floor. She extended her other leg up behind her.

Immediately, the other kids tried to imitate her. Her trick wasn’t that hard for them, so I decided to throw in a little twist. “See if you can balance with only one hand on the floor,” I challenged them. “Not the other hand, and not your feet.”

They tried for about half a second before Kenny sat down on the floor and said, albeit cheerfully, “I can’t do that.”

“I’ll twy,” Jessica said. I watched her try a little longer before giving up and sitting down.

At that point, Lindsey, who had been trying the whole time, turned herself upright and looked at me. “I did it for a little while,” she said.

What a fantastic illustration of the responses we sometimes give to God when He asks us to do something. Take motherhood, for example. God asks us to parent a child going through a difficult time, or a special needs child, or simply a child who won’t sleep through the night. We try for half a second and then say, “I can’t do that.” We’ve failed. It won’t work, so there’s no use trying.

Or perhaps we’re willing to try a little longer. Perhaps we don’t mind attempting to parent three kids ages three and under. “I’ll try,” we say, but we soon find it difficult, and we give up and sit down. “This is just too much,” we say. “God’s going to have to lighten my load.”

The third response is the best. We simply get to work, and we try to the limit of our endurance. When strength is gone, we say, “I did it as long as I could.” Not “I failed,” but “I succeeded for awhile.”

Make no mistake about it. We all will come to the end of our endurance. God knows that, and He doesn’t count it as failure. Failure is when we look at the evidence in front of us, and we don’t try, because we just don’t see any way it will work in the first place. Or failure is when we give up too soon.

That day in my living room, I didn’t help my kids balance as I told them to. Had I helped, they would all have succeeded. That’s the point. When God asks us to do something, He will help us. Why then do we ever refuse to try, or ever give up? We know we have His help. God never calls us to do something He won’t help us to perform. So knowing that we have His strength and wisdom to get us through, why would we ever consider doing something other than availing ourselves of the help He has stands ready to give? Then, like Lindsey, we could try to the limit of our endurance. The only thing is, our endurance would go a whole lot farther, because we would be operating in His strength.

In whose strength are you fulfilling your calling as a mother? Are you taking advantage of God’s strength, or are you relying on your own?

Parenting is hard and exhausting at times. Believe me, I know. But when we call upon God instead of trying to balance on one hand and our own strength only, we will make it. Not we might; we will.

Psalm 28:7—The LORD is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him.

“Hempo” Blanket

Two or three years ago, Lindsey received a hippo blanket for her birthday. It was made by friends of ours and is hot pink, yellow, and fuzzy, with colorful, happy-looking hippos all over it. At the time, Lindsey couldn’t say “hippo”, so she came up with “hempo”.

She still loves that thing and often takes it with her when she thinks she might be cold somewhere. The other day, she gathered it up as she prepared to get out of our minivan. The only thing was, she was also holding everything else she’d brought along with her, which made quite a load. “Kenny, help your sister with her stuff,” I directed.

Right behind her, Kenny reached for the blanket, which was trailing on the floor. As soon as Lindsey felt him pull on it, she glanced back at him to see what he was doing. Right about the time I was saying, “He’s just trying to help you,” Lindsey realized the same thing on her own and released the blanket, turning her attention away from him and back to getting out.

It made all the difference in the world that she knew he was trying to help her. Otherwise, you can imagine how the scenario would have gone—about as well as when God tries to take something from us and we don’t like it.

There are times in every believer’s life when God must take something away from us as part of His plan. We feel His tug on our treasure, and we immediately try to figure out what God is doing. Sometimes, it’s obvious, but oftentimes, we can’t tell. And it’s during those times that it matters so much whether we think He is trying to steal something that is rightfully ours or to remove it for our benefit.

Some things in life, we’re just not willing to give up. We feel as if we’re entitled to them. We want to maintain control over them, and if God tries to take them away—or if He allows them to be taken away—we react as if He has stolen from us. The only problem with that reasoning is that ultimately, nothing belongs to us. It’s all His. We don’t have the right to hang onto anything He takes or allows to be taken from us because it’s all His in the first place.

The job we lost? It was never ours to hang on to. Our health? Nope, not that either. Our kids? Even they don’t truly belong to us. They are and always have been His.

Most of the time, however, the things God requires us to give up are not the truly precious things—family, for instance. Usually it’s something much smaller, such as a portion of our free time or a peaceful, uninterrupted night’s sleep. Frequently, God takes these things from us because He wants to replace them with an opportunity to serve other people such as our children. But too often, instead of willingly accepting the change in plans, we resent the fact that mothering is often inconvenient.

What do you resent? Many times, resentment is an indicator that something we believe we have a right to has been taken from us. We resent the fact that our husband wants to watch the ballgame instead of help us with the children because we believe we have a right to his help, and that “right” has been stolen from us. Or we begrudge the fact that we have to get up in the middle of the night to tend to our coughing child because we thought we had a right to a good night’s sleep.

What difference might it make in your life and in mine if we were to lay down our rights and realize that we don’t have a right to anything? Instead of focusing on our “rights” that haven’t been fulfilled, what if we started meditating on all the things we do have that we don’t have a right to because they are the result of God’s grace?

Why not make a list of those things? Write down all the things you do have that you don’t have a right to—in other words, all the blessings you now enjoy that were gifts from God based on His love for you and not on what you had a “right” to.

It’s humbling, isn’t it? Realizing that God owes us nothing yet still chooses to bless us anyway—it’s incredible. That He would give us anything at all should amaze us. Yet He pours out His love on us, and as part of His love, He blesses us with gifts.

Let’s not spend more time resenting what we don’t have than rejoicing in what we do have. After all, if God gave us what we deserved on our own merits, we’d all be in hell. Literally. So instead of virtually accusing Him of stealing from us—or at least of doing the wrong thing—let’s thank Him for what He has done that’s truly unfair: lavishing us with blessings we don’t deserve.

1 Corinthians 4:7—What do you have that you did not receive?

James 1:17—Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

Dirty Slippers

Muddy Elmo Slippers

Sometimes when your kids wear their slippers outside and get them all muddy and dirty, it’s a matter for discipline. Other times…well, it just isn’t.

The other day, I was working on going through the house and getting rid of stuff. We just had too…much…stuff, and my husband and I decided we needed to pare it all down before the baby gets here, in order to simplify things as much as possible. Lindsey, who has a sweet, helpful spirit, and has been very in tune with how tired Mommy is, decided she would help me.

She sat down and made a list of all the chores she would help me do (in pictures, because she doesn’t know how to spell very many words yet). Then, she began with the first picture and started completing the tasks and checking them off one by one. She worked as hard as I did for as long as I did (which was several hours), all with a cheerful attitude and the desire to help. Several times, while I was working on something, she came to me and asked what specifically she could do next. I would give her a small task, and she would complete it, return, and ask, “Now what can I do?” It was truly amazing.

So it was no surprise to me when Lindsey looked at her list, checked something off, and announced, “Next, I’m going to water your plants.” Then she disappeared.

I have three porch plants, so I allowed her to go outside by herself. She’d been gone a little while, and I asked one of the other kids where Lindsey was. “She’s outside watering your plants,” came the answer.

Shortly after that, my husband appeared, holding two muddy Elmo slippers I recognized as Lindsey’s. “Look at Lindsey’s slippers,” he said.

Normally I don’t allow the kids to wear their slippers outside for precisely that reason—they’ll get dirty. Briefly, the idea flashed through my mind of disciplining Lindsey for wearing her slippers outside when I’ve told them several times not to do that. But I knew immediately there was a better response.

“I guess I can’t really say anything when they’re only dirty because she was outside watering my plants,” I said. I chose instead to be grateful those slippers were dirty—not because of the dirt itself, but because of what the dirt represented.

You see, Lindsey truly blessed me that day, beyond measure. Her attitude and work ethic went far beyond what a five-year-old should be capable of. She poured out her heart for me all day long, as well as the effort of her little body. Had I majored on the minors, and punished her for getting her slippers dirty…oh, I’m so glad I got this one right. This time at least, I saw her heart instead of her behavior. And I felt like I got a glimpse into how Jesus sees people.

Many times in the Bible, we read how Jesus saw and responded to someone’s heart, while the others around him reacted to the person’s behavior. Take, for example, the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet with costly ointment and wiped them with her hair. The other dinner guests were whispering to themselves about what a sinful woman she was—which was probably common knowledge. Look, she’s dirty. That woman with the dirty slippers is touching the Lord!

Okay, so that’s not exactly how it went, but you get the idea. They were focused on actions that were of far lesser importance than the attitude of the woman’s heart.

I wonder how often we truly look into our children’s face and see their heart. Often, we merely see the jelly smudges on their mouths or the fact that they’ve been on our nerves all day long. Oh, would that when we looked at their precious face, we saw their heart.

Friend, when Jesus looks at you and me, He doesn’t see merely the things we have done. He sees our heart. Sometimes, true, our heart needs correction. But other times, our heart is right even if our actions don’t reflect it. How many times have you fallen into bed at night exhausted from taking care of your children, with the house still a wreck? Jesus knows the house is dirty, but what’s more important to Him is the heart you displayed in serving your children.

What does that mean for you, precious mom? It means that if Jesus were talking to someone who was accusing you, He would say, “Yes, I see the dirty house. But better than that, I see her heart, and that’s what I value.” Or, “Yes, I know she failed in that area. But she’s trying, and that’s all I ask. I’m proud of her.”

Yes, Jesus sees your sins, too, and His Holy Spirit will convict you of them when necessary. But take a minute right now and just close your eyes and sit in Jesus’ presence. If you need to confess anything, confess it. Then rest in His approval. Know that He loves you and that He knows how hard you’re trying. Know that He’s proud of you. And realize that as much as I valued Lindsey’s heart toward me, He values yours far more.

Matthew 26:10, 13—Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me…I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

Cleaning House

I can tell my kids are growing older.

It’s not just because before next Sunday, I have to buy Lindsey a bigger pair of “church shoes”. Nor is it because Kenny just turned seven, or because I’ve seen a new maturity in Ellie that the Holy Spirit is working in her.

No, it’s because the kids have finally figured out something I tried to keep secret for as long as I could: exactly what happens to their stuff when I clean their rooms. Previously, I don’t know whether they ever really thought about it. All they knew was that sometimes, Daddy took them places while Mommy stayed home to clean, and when they got back, their rooms were nice and straight. Apparently it never occurred to them to wonder where their stuff went—at least until this most recent round of cleaning.

Now, all too soon, they realize what you moms know: when Mommy has to clean their stuff, lots of it disappears. Sometimes permanently.

Two days ago, my husband took the kids on a day-long excursion to do various errands and visit fun places (the park, the library) while I stayed home to take care of the playroom and the girls’ room. For the first time ever, the kids were a little worried when they left. They had spent the morning lobbying for various of their favorite toys not to get given away, but I made few promises. Some of the stuff, I intended to put up in the attic. (“Just leave it up there for a few days until we forget about it and don’t want it anymore,” Ellie advised.) Other items, I planned on putting into the car for donation to one of our favorite charities.

I spent six hours working on the playroom/schoolroom and the girls’ room. Apparently I did so good a job that when Ellie returned and saw the playroom, she said, “Wow! It’s like living in a new house!” When Lindsey walked into her room and saw the now-almost-bare shelves, her mouth dropped open, and she stood there in amazement. Or maybe it was shock. My husband was pretty pleased, too, and considering the fact that he is far neater than I am, that was a significant compliment.

Turns out it’s kind of like when I clean house spiritually speaking. I realize that my spirit needs cleaning out, and I decide to do something about it. I pull out all the stuff that really doesn’t belong and dispose of it—at least temporarily. True, some of the things, I get rid of immediately. They’re gone, as they should be. But some of the things I shove into the “attic”, where they’ll still be accessible later. Maybe I even do such a good job that people compliment me. But remember that stuff in the attic? It’s still there. And that’s where the problem comes in.

My purpose in putting the kids’ stuff in the attic is to buy us some time in case I decide I want to bring it back out later. Unfortunately, sometimes I do the same thing with the spiritual stuff I should be getting rid of. Instead of really, truly getting it out of my house, I put it in reserve in case I decide to go back to it. It’s a temporary cleansing that can be undone if I decide I really wanted that stuff after all.

Maybe you can identify with me. Maybe there have been things in your life that you should have gotten out of the house, but instead, you stored in the attic because you couldn’t quite bear to part fully with them yet. And then later, you brought them back downstairs and they became part of your life again. I’ve done that too. And I’ve regretted it every time.

It would be pretty tough for me to take some of that material stuff that’s in my actual attic and give it away permanently. Why? Because my emotions and memories are involved. Likewise, it would be difficult to give away some of my spiritual stuff. Why? For the same reasons.

The solution to the problem is obvious—give it away in the first place, so I’m not tempted to take it out again. But it’s hard. Sometimes the pull of emotion is too strong.

So what can I do? What can you do, when you’re faced with needing to clean out a part of your life but aren’t emotionally ready to let it go?

We could do the same thing I could do with my kids’ material possessions: get someone to pick up a box as soon as I’ve filled it and cart it right out the door, heading for charity.

I’m not necessarily suggesting we have to do this with physical objects. But I’m definitely suggesting that we do the same thing spiritually. Let’s take what we need to get rid of, hand it over to the Person helping us clean, and let Him dispose of it before the emotional pull becomes too strong and we take it back.

The only way to be sure we won’t bring possessions back down from the attic is to make sure those possessions aren’t within our grasp anymore. The charities we frequent are always more than glad to take what we donate. Likewise, the Holy Spirit is always ready and willing to take our castoffs and put them far away from us.

Is there something in your life that you need to get rid of this week? Perhaps even right now? Let the Holy Spirit have it. Ask Him to take it away before you can grab it back. I guarantee that the temporary pain of its being gone is less than the pain of knowing it is still there, up in the attic. Or worse yet, the pain of knowing you’ve brought it back down.

Job 11:13-15—Yet if you devote your heart to him and stretch out your hands to him, if you put away the sin that is in your hand and allow no evil to dwell in your tent, then you will lift up your face without shame; you will stand firm and without fear.

The Whole Picture

I love it when we’re on a long trip in our minivan and the kids are watching a movie on the DVD player, using headphones so that Phil and I don’t have to hear it. We’ll be driving along in relative silence for awhile when one of the kids will say, in response to the video, something so seemingly random (because we haven’t heard the part of the movie to which they are responding) that it’s hilarious.

Take, for example, our recent trip to San Antonio (about 4.5 hours away). We were on the way home, and Lindsey and Jessica were watching Word World. Suddenly, Jessica called out, “It’s because he’s allergic to peaches!”

That struck me and Phil as funny because to us, it was completely out of the blue. Of course, if we had heard the part of the episode leading up to it, I’m sure it would have made complete sense and probably not been funny at all.

As I thought about this—about how the reason it was so funny was not because of the words themselves, but because they were out of context—I realized something. Lots of things seem “out of context” to us in life. They appear random, completely unexpected. But that’s because we don’t have the big picture of which they are a part. Some of these things are funny; some are confusing; and some are sad or even tragic. But all of them would make sense if we could only see the whole picture the way God sees it.

The problem is that we can’t see things that way. We see only a fraction of what is going on, only a thread of how a particular happening or event is being woven into the entire tapestry of our lives and the much larger tapestry of God’s plan for the world. When something happens that we can’t imagine what kind of picture it might fit into, we get confused. This can’t be a part of any picture I would approve of, we think to ourselves. Maybe we even say something like it out loud. I can’t imagine why God would do this or allow this, or, more to the point, A loving God wouldn’t do that.

In other words, we question God because we can’t see what He sees. My friend, I assure you that God doesn’t randomly hand out pain with no purpose behind it. He has a purpose. We’re just so far from being able to see the entirety of what’s going on that we don’t “get it”. In our limited, finite humanness, we’re bewildered. How could this happen?

I don’t know why bad things have happened in your life, or in mine. I don’t claim to know God’s purpose behind it all. But I do know that God is God when I’m in pain just as much as He is when things are going well for me. He’s not a loving God when I feel blessed and an unkind, capricious one when I hurt. He’s the same God always, and if I could only see the way He sees, I would understand and accept why a particular event had to happen.

But I can’t see everything like God does, and I never will. So what do I do—what do you do—when something seems out of place to us? When it’s painful?

During those times, we pray for the grace to truly believe that God sees the whole picture and that He knows what He’s doing. You and I will never entirely share God’s perspective. He is so infinitely far above us that we will spend all eternity learning new things about Him. But we can choose to believe what we know to be true and not let painful circumstances cause us to doubt. They may temporarily steal our peace from us, our possessions, or even our loved ones. We don’t have to let them steal our faith too.

Ecclesiastes 8:17—I saw everything God has done. No one can understand what happens on earth. Man might try very hard to figure it out. But he still can’t discover what it all means. A wise man might claim he knows. But he can’t really understand it either.

Running with Baby

At three-and-a-half years old, Jessica (whom we call “Baby”) is delighted with her body’s increasing abilities. She loves performing tricks for me, which usually involve some feat of balance or stretching. She’s also becoming a fast runner, losing that cute, toddler run that really young kids have (where they half bounce, half run).

The other day, the kids and I were leaving for somewhere, and I told Jessica to go get in the van. She ran toward it, obviously enjoying her newfound speed. The only problem was that Lindsey saw Jessica begin to run, which of course turned the whole thing into a race. Lindsey started running too, and because she’s two years older than Jessica, she passed Jessica up and made it to the van first.

What caught my attention was what happened when Lindsey passed Jessica. Jessica glanced up, saw Lindsey, and stopped running. Her little head drooped, and she walked the rest of the way to the van with her head down.

Two applications came to mind, and I want to share them both with you. First, I’ll share the more obvious one. I had planned to write this devotional about how we as Christians often leave weaker or less-experienced brothers and sisters behind, turning the Christian walk into a Christian race. We run on ahead of them, oblivious to the pain we cause them.

We should be conscious of our brothers and sisters along the way. The whole point of the Christian walk is the journey, not who can “win”. Sometimes, we’ll be the weaker sister, and sometimes we’ll be the stronger. But it doesn’t really matter, because we’re all on the same team and should all be working together.

It’s a good application, and it’s something we need to think about. But it’s the second, less-obvious application that I’m supposed to dwell on this week. That application is this: Jesus never leaves us behind in our journey toward the goal. He is infinitely more holy, powerful, and knowledgeable than we are, yet He travels with us instead of leaving us in His dust. He doesn’t drag us behind Him because we are too slow. Instead, He shows patience with us as we walk, so that one day, we will reach the journey’s end together.

What Lindsey did was perfectly natural. She wasn’t trying to make Jessica feel bad. She simply saw Jessica enjoying herself and decided to have the same kind of fun by pushing her own body to go faster. But how much different would it have been if she had extended a hand to Jessica and said, “Let’s run together!” Jessica’s joy would have been greater, and so would Lindsey’s.

Likewise, our joy increases when Jesus takes our hand and runs with us. What’s even more amazing is that His does too. He loves being together with us. We love being with Him (unless there’s something wrong). And when two people who delight in each other’s presence spend time together, the joy of both increases.

So next time you’re going somewhere, remember that Jesus is going with you. You can’t outrun Him, and He won’t outrun you. You’re in this together.

Psalm 89:15—Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, O LORD.

Contented

As I sit here writing, my children are all with my husband in the front part of the house. He has promised to keep them up there so I can have time to write. Not only that, but he’s making dinner. I can hear everyone talking, and for the moment, at least, their voices are peaceful. I’m at home, with the people I love most in all the world, and everyone’s getting along. I am content.

At the same time that this is true, it’s also true that my desk is a mess. There are piles of papers and other objects all over it (including, interestingly enough, one yellow rubber glove, a packet of cat treats, a set of cards for Lindsey’s Hooked on Phonics curriculum, and a cotton-ball-and-paper-plate sheep that she made last year in preschool. Behind me, the playroom is a mess. Yet I am content.

You see, we can choose which set of circumstances to focus on. We can dwell on all the things that are wrong, or we can look at the many things that are going right. At any given moment in our lives, some things will be going other than the way we would wish, and others will be going just as we want them to. Our contentment depends on which set of circumstances we base our feelings on.

True, there are some circumstances that could pretty easily destroy contentment for almost anyone. Tragic things happen in the world, and there’s no guarantee that none of them will ever happen to us. But for the most part—the great majority of the time—we can choose to be contented or not, depending on what we concentrate on.

Does that mean we just sweep everything negative under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen or doesn’t bother us? No. It means that sometimes, we simply choose not to think about something if thinking about it won’t help. When there’s an issue that needs to be dealt with, fine. Let’s think about it so that we can determine the right response. But when thinking about something results only in bitterness or discontentment, and there’s nothing to do about it anyway, let it go. Just let it go. Why allow it to take up anymore of your mental and emotional energy and rob you of contentment?

I could sit here and complain about the house being a mess. I could gripe about how I’m tired of having to tell the children over and over to clean up. But would that help? No. And not only would it be distinctly unhelpful, but it might cause me to miss the delightful sounds of their happy voices as they play together and interact with their daddy.

This is part of training our minds to think the way God wants us to think. We need to make it a habit to concentrate on the good things instead of the bad. We need to spend more time contemplating the blessings He’s given us than grumbling about the tiny little bumps in our smooth road.

I know that I don’t like to hear my kids complain. I’d rather hear about all the good things that happened during their day, or all the things they liked. I bet God feels the same way. I bet He’d much rather hear me thank Him for His blessings and then enjoy them than sit here with a sour attitude simply because everything’s not what I consider perfect.

How are you doing in this area? Which—the good or the bad—do you spend more time focusing on? Find something right now that’s going right, then stop and thank God for it. And watch what happens to your contentment when you do.

Philippians 4:8—Finally, [sisters], whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Play with Me

Jessica SwingingAt three-and-a-half years old, Jessica is such a little person. I mean, she is absolutely full of personality (which, fortunately, is usually delightful). She loves to smile, and when she laughs, her laughter makes others want to join in with her. Yesterday, as she escaped giggling from my tickling clutches and darted a short distance away, I watched her go. And I thought, Wow, her legs look really long in those shorts. She looks…tall!

For a moment, instead of a toddler, I saw a little girl, and I realized she’s growing up.

I’m glad for her. I want her to develop as she should. But I hope that she doesn’t grow out of wanting to be with me for a long time.

Jessica has always been a mama’s girl. She loves being with me. Several times during the day, she will seek out my attention or ask me to play with her (“Will you pway wif me?”). Just this morning at church, she snuggled into my lap and closed her eyes.

I don’t want her to grow out of that anytime soon.

True, her clinginess gets burdensome sometimes. There are some days I’d rather she not need to be so close to me for most of the day. At times, I just wish she would leave me alone and play independently.

When it’s one of those times, and she’s needed more attention than I had energy or desire to give, I try to remind myself of this: God never gets tired of giving me attention.

Actually, I think God’s prepared to give me far more attention than I seek. He constantly loves me and continually thinks loving thoughts toward me. He’s never too busy or too tired for me to crawl up into His lap and close my eyes. He never gets annoyed when I want His attention because I’m bored or crabby, or simply because I want to be with Him. I’m the one who keeps our relationship at a distance.

Maybe you do, too. Maybe you know what it’s like to go through an entire day without thinking about God much, except when it’s time to thank Him for your food before eating lunch. But if that’s the only time you or I think about Him, we’re missing out.

You see, God is always available to listen to us, give us wisdom, or share happy moments with us. He’ll share the sad moments, too. He’ll even “play” and have fun with us. But we have to want to spend time with Him. Otherwise, we’re missing out on the best Friend in the whole universe. He’s right next to us—His Spirit is in us—and we ignore Him.

If you’re like me, you struggle to spend regular and consistent time with Him. But maybe it would help to remember that spending time with Him means not just checking off something on a chart, but staying in touch with our Best Friend. Imagine the best earthly friend you can think of, multiply it by about a billion, and that’s Him waiting for you to notice Him.

So why don’t we spend more time with Him? Sometimes, it’s because circumstances arise to prevent it. Other times, it’s because we don’t try very hard. But I believe that it’s usually because we don’t really appreciate what a great time we could have by spending time together.

Why not let God show you? Spend time with Him this week. Today, even. Ask Him to open your eyes to what a great Friend He is. Ask Him to help you get to know Him. Even if you’ve known Him most of your life, you can always know Him better. Ask Him to show you His beauty and desirability. And when He does, be prepared for your heart to respond in adoration. It’ll happen naturally. When you truly get a glimpse of God as He is, the only possible response is worship.

Psalm 27:4—One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.

No Thoughts

I have a confession to make. I love writing devotionals; I really do. But sometimes, when it comes time to write one, I sit down at the computer, and I think to myself, I have absolutely no thoughts today. I can’t think of a single thing to write. At those times, I ask God what He wants His people to hear. Then I write that.

Today was a little bit different. This time, even before I had a chance to say “Dear God”, God spoke to me. Even when you don’t have thoughts, He said (not in an audible voice, but in my spirit), I always have thoughts. I am always thinking about you.

Then, He brought Psalm 139:17 to mind. This verse appears only 3 verses after the verse that tells us we are fearfully and wonderfully made. It says, “How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!” Read the passage in context, and you will see that in this case, His thoughts are about us.

First, let’s look at the “how vast is the sum of them” part. Most of us don’t realize how much God thinks about us. We tend to assume that because we don’t always think about Him very often, He doesn’t think about us frequently, either. That assumption is wrong. The verse says that God’s thoughts toward us are vast in number. Vast. That’s more than 5. More than 100. More even than a million. Vast. An incomprehensible number.

Sure, we think, He thinks about me a lot when I’ve messed up. But those aren’t the kind of thoughts this passage is talking about. The Psalmist wrote this entire section because He was so overwhelmed at how much God loves us. He didn’t say, “God really loves us. He thinks irritated thoughts about us most of the time, but He really, really loves us.” No, God thinks so many loving thoughts toward us that we can’t even count them all. It’s such a big number the writer of the psalm didn’t even want to limit it by putting a number on it.

Now, let’s look at the first part of the verse. “How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!” Are they really? I think most of the time, they’re not. That’s because we don’t really get it. We don’t truly understand how God lovingly thinks of us all day long, every day. How He’s in love with us. If we really grasped that, His thoughts would, indeed, be very precious to us. After all, what could be better than to know that God thinks loving thoughts about us all day long, so many that we can’t even count them?

I have a specific reason for telling you the process I went through in writing this devotional. My reason is this: I want you to know that God was thinking of you in telling me what to write today. You. I didn’t have any thoughts of my own until He filled my mind with today’s theme. I believe this is His extra way of emphasizing to you how much He is, indeed, thinking about you. He thought about you and planned something specific for you to read today because He loves you.

So how do you respond when faced with a love like that? I suggest you spend some time with Him today, thinking about Him. He’s always thinking about you; it would be an awesome, loving response on your part for you to reciprocate out of love. How long should your time be? I don’t know, but I do know this: God is the Lover of your soul. Spend some time with the One who, as the song says, “knows you best and loves you most.”

Psalm 139:17—How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!

Don’t Hit the Camel

Recently, we took the kids to Chuck E. Cheese. This was a different visit from the one when Kenny got his tokens stolen. This visit wasn’t for dinner; we just took them so they could play all the games.

Lindsey is a fun kid to trail after as she chooses game after ride after game. Once when I was following her, she chose a game designed for little kids where the player has to steer an actual car along a wide, gentle track. The idea is to try to stay in the middle and not run over anything on the sides. Lindsey did pretty well for the most part, even though that game doesn’t have very responsive steering. But at one point on the track, where she was supposed to steer left, she kept failing to turn and running over the picture of the camel standing just to the right of the track in the grass.

It was kind of funny, actually. Every time she approached, I would say, in a funny voice, “Here comes the camel! Don’t run him over!” or something similar. Lindsey would giggle, do her best to steer to the left, and run over the camel anyway.

And the thought hit me, about the third time the camel met its demise: Someday, I’m going to hand this girl the keys to my car and turn her loose on streets full of unsuspecting citizens. Yes, this girl who can’t even stop running over the camel.

It was a kind of scary thought (though I hope—I pray!—Lindsey’s driving skills will have improved quite a bit by then). But then, I realized something even more mind-blowing: Jesus did the same thing, but in an even more important context.

When He ascended into heaven, Jesus entrusted the furtherance of His kingdom to His apostles and other followers. True, they would have the Holy Spirit, but even so, Jesus was depending on these guys who didn’t even understand what “rising from the dead” meant to spread His kingdom all over the world. He was entrusting the most precious thing on earth—the gospel message—to guys who only weeks before had run away so as not to be associated with Him and even denied Him.

He still does the same thing today. He still trusts imperfect people with the responsibility to spread the good news. And we, in our own power, are far less competent to make an impact for Him than Lindsey is to stop running over the camel. She, in her natural human abilities that God has granted her, will probably learn to drive a car quite well one day. We, in our merely human abilities, can do nothing of eternal value on our own. That’s right, nothing. Jesus Himself even said it: “Apart from Me, you can do nothing.” Yet He has chosen us to be His fellow-workers, and He has granted us the privilege of serving Him in spreading His glory throughout the world, starting right here in our own homes.

So what does all this mean? It means that apart from Him, we’re guaranteed to blow it. Maybe we’d still be decent moms by the world’s standards, but we’re going to blow the chance to be the kind of moms we could be. We need to live in serious dependence upon the Holy Spirit for His wisdom, help, and enabling, every second of every day.

Just as Lindsey will eventually need Driver’s Ed and lots of practice at somewhere other than Chuck E. Cheese, so we as moms need practice. We need training guided by the Holy Spirit. We need to ask Him each day to help us do the job He’s given us to and to make us the kind of moms we want to be.

Consulting Him doesn’t have to take long. It can be as brief as a minute. Each of us has at least a minute per day we can go before God and ask Him to correct us where we need it and build us up when we need that. Let’s do it. Otherwise, we’ll do “nothing”.

John 15:5—”I am the vine; you are the branches. If a [mom] remains in me and I in [her], [she] will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”