Doesn’t Apply

Our church recently held its annual fall campout, and this year, for the first time, our family was able to go. Our kids were all finally old enough that we thought camping with the whole family sounded like a good idea, so we packed up and headed out to a state park a couple hours away.

We all had a great time. Too soon (yes, seriously) it was time to come home. We lugged everything into the house, and I began the task of unpacking and getting the kids to help me. I put a load of stuff that belonged to the girls into their room and told them to start putting it away while I took care of something else. A few minutes later, I saw Lindsey bounding by on one of those large rubber balls with a handle, where you sit on it and bounce along. “Lindsey,” I said, “you need to clean up. I told you girls that already.”

“Oh,” Lindsey said innocently. “I thought you just meant Ellie and Jessica.”

Oh, no, she didn’t. She knew what the spirit of the law was. But because I hadn’t specifically named each girl, she saw a way to claim that she believed the letter of the law didn’t apply to her.

Sounds kind of like what we adults do, doesn’t it? Oh, we might not go as far as Lindsey did, and claim God’s law doesn’t apply to us, but we often give ourselves far more grace than we give others in determining what level of compliance is necessary in order to meet His standards. We may not say, “God’s law doesn’t apply to me; I don’t have to be loving.” But we might very well say, “Yes, God’s law applies to me, and I’m doing a fine job of fulfilling it.”

We act as if God’s law says “be more loving”, and then we figure that applies to other people who really need it, not to us who are already doing a good job. Or we proceed as if it says “be more patient”, and assume that also applies only to others who aren’t doing as well as we are.

But in reality, God’s law doesn’t say, “be more loving.” It says, “be perfectly loving (or patient, or kind, etc.),” and we fall far short of perfection. We are not “good enough”. There was only one “good enough” Person Who ever walked this earth, and that was Jesus Christ. He was the only One Who perfectly fulfilled God’s law. The rest of us fall woefully short.

I’ve often heard the phrase “we’re not under law; we’re under grace”. That’s true. But it doesn’t mean that God’s standards are any less. Yes, if we’ve acknowledged Christ as the Lord of our lives and asked Him to forgive us of our sins, His perfect sacrifice stands in our stead. He took our punishment so we wouldn’t have to. But His standards are still the same. He doesn’t say, “Now that you’re a Christian, it’s okay for you to be less than loving, because you’re under grace.” Quite the contrary. In fact, the Bible declares that people will know we are Christians by the love we have for one another.

God’s moral law still applies. And it still applies to us.

We would do far better to spend our time asking God to reveal the sin in our lives and repenting of it than to spend it deciding where other people have messed up and what they should do about it. I don’t mean that we should never confront others’ sin. There is a time, a place, and a way for that. But I do mean that confronting sin should start with that which we find in our own lives.

Search me, O God, and know my heart. Help me to know it, too, and to spend more time searching it than searching the hearts of others. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Matthew 7:3-5—Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.

Anything Else?

Our church recently held its annual fall campout, and this year, for the first time, our family was able to go. Our kids were all finally old enough that we thought camping with the whole family sounded like a good idea, so we packed up and headed out to a state park a couple hours away.

We all had a great time. Too soon (yes, seriously) it was time to come home. We lugged everything into the house, and I began the task of unpacking and getting the kids to help me. I put a load of stuff that belonged to the girls into their room and told them to start putting it away while I took care of something else. A few minutes later, I saw Lindsey bounding by on one of those large rubber balls with a handle, where you sit on it and bounce along. “Lindsey,” I said, “you need to clean up. I told you girls that already.”

“Oh,” Lindsey said innocently. “I thought you just meant Ellie and Jessica.”

Oh, no, she didn’t. She knew what the spirit of the law was. But because I hadn’t specifically named each girl, she saw a way to claim that she believed the letter of the law didn’t apply to her.

Sounds kind of like what we adults do, doesn’t it? Oh, we might not go as far as Lindsey did, and claim God’s law doesn’t apply to us, but we often give ourselves far more grace than we give others in determining what level of compliance is necessary in order to meet His standards. We may not say, “God’s law doesn’t apply to me; I don’t have to be loving.” But we might very well say, “Yes, God’s law applies to me, and I’m doing a fine job of fulfilling it.”

We act as if God’s law says “be more loving”, and then we figure that applies to other people who really need it, not to us who are already doing a good job. Or we proceed as if it says “be more patient”, and assume that also applies only to others who aren’t doing as well as we are.

But in reality, God’s law doesn’t say, “be more loving.” It says, “be perfectly loving (or patient, or kind, etc.),” and we fall far short of perfection. We are not “good enough”. There was only one “good enough” Person Who ever walked this earth, and that was Jesus Christ. He was the only One Who perfectly fulfilled God’s law. The rest of us fall woefully short.

I’ve often heard the phrase “we’re not under law; we’re under grace”. That’s true. But it doesn’t mean that God’s standards are any less. Yes, if we’ve acknowledged Christ as the Lord of our lives and asked Him to forgive us of our sins, His perfect sacrifice stands in our stead. He took our punishment so we wouldn’t have to. But His standards are still the same. He doesn’t say, “Now that you’re a Christian, it’s okay for you to be less than loving, because you’re under grace.” Quite the contrary. In fact, the Bible declares that people will know we are Christians by the love we have for one another.

God’s moral law still applies. And it still applies to us.

We would do far better to spend our time asking God to reveal the sin in our lives and repenting of it than to spend it deciding where other people have messed up and what they should do about it. I don’t mean that we should never confront others’ sin. There is a time, a place, and a way for that. But I do mean that confronting sin should start with that which we find in our own lives.

Search me, O God, and know my heart. Help me to know it, too, and to spend more time searching it than searching the hearts of others. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Matthew 7:3-5—Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.

Cute Birdies

Grackle
A grackle

Yesterday, the three older kids and I were running around town doing errands. Which parking lot we were in at the time this story took place, I don’t remember. But I’ll always remember the lesson I learned there.

As we all exited the van and I counted heads to make sure everybody had gotten out, I heard Kenny say, “Mom, look!” I followed his pointing finger and saw three birds hopping on the ground. All three had dull, blackish/brownish feathers and small, beady black eyes. “Cute birdies!” Kenny exclaimed.

Cute birdies? I thought. They’re ugly.

Then came the unforgettable lesson, a sentence that burned in my heart. We do the same thing to people sometimes.

We usually don’t do it consciously. But we’ve all judged a person after just a brief glimpse. We’ve made character and attitude assumptions and judged the person’s actions based on information from a snapshot taken at one fleeting moment in time. We’ve dismissed people with a roll of our eyes, or simply overlooked people, for any of far too many reasons.

It doesn’t matter all that much when we look at birds and think they’re ugly. But it matters a lot when we look at people and dismiss them as nothing special.

Our Lord Jesus never treated people as anything less than a marvelous creation of God. Sure, sometimes He became righteously angry at them, but He never acted as if they were beneath His notice, or not worth His time. We ought to treat people the same way He did because we want to be like Him.

But there’s another important reason we should follow His lead in our actions and attitudes toward our fellow human beings: Jesus said that whatever we do to “one of the least of these”, we do to Him. In other words, dismissing someone else as “nothing much” means dismissing Him as “nothing much”. We would never say that to His face, but we say it to His creations all the time. Maybe those words never come out of our mouths, but our actions show them to be true. And Jesus, Who sees inside our heart, knows what we are thinking.

Kenny looked at the birds and saw marvelous, cute, energetic creations of God. I wonder why I didn’t see them that way, too. After all, I’m the adult. I’m the one who’s supposed to know better. I’m pretty sure I know which one of us delighted God’s heart.

May we never look at our fellow human beings in the same way I looked at those birds—as undesirable and nothing special. May we learn to judge the worth of each person based on his or her Creator, instead of on any inadequacies we might perceive. After all, “they” shall know us by our love. Based on the level of our love for others, what would “they” know us to be?

Luke 6:45—The good [woman] brings good things out of the good stored up in [her] heart, and the evil [woman] brings evil things out of the evil stored up in [her] heart. For out of the overflow of [her] heart [her] mouth speaks.

Let Me See

A couple days ago, the kids and I piled into the van and headed out for a morning of consignment sale shopping in a neighboring city. As we drove from the first sale to the second, we passed an ice cream shop we don’t have near our house, and I remembered that I had four coupons for free kid’s sundaes from that shop still in my purse since I had received them a year or two ago.

We stopped at the shop, and I drove through the drive-thru and ordered the four free sundaes. The lady who eventually handed them to me at the window seemed less than thrilled to give away four free items at the same time, but I thanked her politely and drove on.

Because I was feeling particularly generous that day, I let the kids eat their sundaes in the van as we drove to the second sale. A few minutes after she began eating, Jessica paused and said, “I’m thirsty.”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t bring any drinks,” I said.

“But I’m thirsty,” she repeated for emphasis.

“Sweetie, I don’t have anything to give you,” I said.

“Let me see,” she insisted.

“I can’t show you what I don’t have,” I said.

On one hand, the incident was amusing. After all, Jessica just wanted to verify for herself that there were, indeed, no drinks present. On the other hand, it was offensive. She didn’t trust my assessment of the situation.

God gets offended, too, when we refuse to trust what He says. Sometimes when He proclaims truth, we decide we’re not going to believe Him unless we can verify the facts for ourselves. When we do that, we’re telling Him that His judgment isn’t worthy of being relied upon—that we’ll trust our own judgment before we’ll trust His. Other times, we simply contradict God. He proclaims truth, and we tell Him He’s wrong because we see things differently. When we do that, we’re telling Him that He’s either a liar or sadly mistaken.

I wonder how much our lives would change if we began acting like the things God says really are true and accurate. For example, when God says we should consider trials pure joy because they produce so many excellent character qualities in us, what difference would it make if we actually started acting like we are joyful that our character is being refined instead of resentful about the trials? Or when God tells us that we should forgive, how much healing might we find if we actually forgave instead of refusing to do so because the person doesn’t deserve it? Or when we read God’s admonition to honor our husbands, what if we actually started to do so, instead of making excuses?

I know there are times when it’s hard to live as if God’s truth is really true. But to do anything less dishonors God. Refusing to let His truth permeate every area of our lives and bring all those areas into conformity with His will is the same thing as telling Him that He’s not worthy of being believed, respected, or trusted in those areas.

Moms, we need to repent of the shamefully arrogant attitude that says that we’re more qualified than God to assess anything. Compared to Him, we know nothing, and it’s well past time for us to stop setting ourselves up as the experts. Let’s determine that we’ll honor God no matter what, and accept His every assessment as our own. After all, He’s always right. So how in the world could it profit us to act as if He isn’t?

Psalm 19:7—The law of the LORD is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple.

No Whiny Voice

You know how sometimes, you do something for your kids you think they’ll appreciate, only to find out later that it was a waste of money?

Such was the case last week when I let the kids talk me into buying applesauce already flavored with cinnamon. It wasn’t any more expensive than the regular stuff, and the kids always put cinnamon in their applesauce anyway, so I was more than willing to earn brownie points with them by fulfilling their request.

Two-year-old Jessica, however, was not impressed. When I served applesauce one evening as a complement to our meal, she said she wanted cinnamon in hers. “There’s already cinnamon in it,” I said. “That’s why it’s brown.”

Jessica peered suspiciously at the bowl. “But I want to put cinnamon in it,” she whined.

“You mean you want some regular applesauce so you can add cinnamon to it yourself?” I clarified.

“Yeahhhh,” she pouted.

“Maybe if you asked me nicely, I would help you,” I said.

“Please?” she said politely.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be glad to help you now. But when you use your whiny voice, that makes me not want to help you.”

“Yeah,” Jessica said loudly. “And God don’t like a whiny voice!”

Isn’t that the truth? God don’t like a whiny voice. In fact, He tells us pretty clearly in Scripture through the Apostle Paul’s writings that we are to do everything without complaining or arguing. I’m pretty sure whining would fit into that category of prohibited ways to do things.

But most of us whine. A lot. Maybe not every day (though maybe so!), but far too often. We ignore the flat-out prohibition in that verse and figure that if we don’t complain too often, that ought to be good enough.

But God says it isn’t. His standard is no complaining. Period.

Believe me, I know it’s hard not to complain sometimes. Bad things, or even just plain irritating things, happen, and it’s tempting to complain. After all, what are we supposed to do, keep our feelings inside? Don’t we have a right to talk about how we feel?

The answers might surprise you. No, we’re not supposed to just bottle up our feelings. And yes, we have a right to talk about how we feel. But there are right ways and wrong ways to do those things, and complaining is a wrong way. When expressing ourselves won’t build anybody up and won’t help the situation, we should keep silent. But we can—and should—take those feelings to God. He will help us deal with them and know what to do next. Even when our emotions are unrighteous—bitterness and malice, for example—God invites us to bring them before Him. The Bible tells us that He desires truth in our inward parts, and that there, He will teach us wisdom.

Is complaining to God okay, then? Well…no. Complaining isn’t okay, period. Complaining is like saying what God’s allowed into our life isn’t acceptable to us. I know some circumstances are annoying, difficult, or even tragic. We’re not commanded to love those circumstances, but we are commanded not to complain. That’s because when we complain, we’re rebelling against what His will for our life is (whether it’s something He’s caused, or something He’s allowed), and when we’re doing that, we’re not in right relationship with Him. We need to learn to see our circumstances as God sees them—tools for shaping us into the person He wants us to be.

How does that work? I don’t entirely know. I only know that when I’m honest before God about my desire to complain, He changes my heart. He may not make my circumstances go away, but He always changes my ability to deal with them.

The next time we’re tempted to complain, let’s take our emotions to God and ask Him to renew our heart and our perspective. Let’s beseech Him for His grace in dealing with our circumstances. And let’s resist the temptation to complain. Complaining seems to offer a satisfying way to deal with our stress, but it doesn’t. True relief comes from God alone. Following His ways in dealing with life will bring far superior and far longer-lasting relief than complaining ever will.

Philippians 2:14—“Do everything without complaining or arguing.”

Isaiah 1:18—”Come now, let us reason together,” says the LORD. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”

Quitting

Our family loves to play games. Some of our favorite times have come as we played together, laughing and loving and being silly. One particular night not long ago, we decided to play animal charades. It was Ellie’s first turn, and she was crawling on all fours across the living room floor. Or maybe “crawling” isn’t the right way to put it. This particular animal’s gait seemed to be a cross between a polar bear’s and a turtle’s. I was puzzled. But Lindsey was certain she knew the answer. “Cheetah!” she shouted.

“Nope,” Ellie said.

“I quit,” Lindsey said matter-of-factly.

“Already?” I said, at the same time as my husband said, “But you only guessed once!”

“But I didn’t get it right, so I quit,” Lindsey repeated.

“Well, okay, I guess you can,” I said.

Right then, Ellie began making squeaking noises, and somebody figured out that she was a mouse. “Good job,” my husband said. “Kenny, you can go next, and Lindsey, you can just sit there and watch.”

“I told you I quit,” Lindsey said politely.

“You don’t even want to watch?” we asked.

“Nope,” Lindsey said. “I’m getting them all wrong. So I don’t want to play.”

I couldn’t help but be amused. Maybe it was Lindsey’s amiable tone of voice, the abruptness of her decision, or some combination of factors. Whatever the reason, I found the situation funny.

But sometimes, quitting isn’t funny at all. When someone quits something that really matters, it can be tragic. At the very least, the person involved will miss out on the blessing God had for her in that endeavor, and maybe cause others to miss out, too. At the worst, quitting can cause a lifetime of suffering.

Yes, there are times when God clearly tells us to stop pursuing something. At those times, we must be obedient. But I’m talking about the times we should keep going, and don’t. Discouragement, fatigue, and grief can all be powerful factors that make us want to quit. But if we listen to them when they are contrary to God’s voice, we’re making a big mistake—sometimes a huge mistake.

A mom can’t get her child to behave, so she throws in the towel and stops trying. I just can’t do anything with him, she reasons.

A wife doesn’t have the kind of communication with her husband that she desires, so she gives up trying to talk to him at all, except to say things like, “Will you pick up some milk on your way home?”

A woman’s life feels empty, so she turns her back on God. If God really loved me, He’d be helping me out more than He is, she believes.

At times, it seems impossible to keep going even one more step. There’s just nothing more left in us. We’re physically exhausted and emotionally weary, and hope is gone. But even then, when we’re far past the limits of what we thought we could endure, we don’t have to quit. There is a way to keep going. And it doesn’t involve dredging up energy from somewhere to try just one more time.

It involves doing the same thing our children do when they’re tired of walking: letting Someone else carry us.

We’ve all heard our child say, “Mommy, I’m tired. Will you carry me?” Sometimes, we grant the request, and sometimes, we don’t. But our heavenly Father is always ready and willing to carry us. He’ll never turn us down. Yes, He sometimes requires us to pass through the fire, but He doesn’t require us to do it in our own strength. He offers us His strength, which is constantly present and infinitely great.

We don’t have to make it through life in our own power. God is always ready to help us. He won’t always remove the circumstances that make things difficult for us (though He might!), but He will always lend us His strength to get us through what He has ordained for us to go through.

When we can’t take another step, He can. When we can’t face another day, He can. When we don’t know up from down, or how to move on, He does.

We don’t have to quit. He can keep us going, even when our strength is gone.

Deuteronomy 32:36—For the LORD will vindicate his people and have compassion on his servants, when he sees that their power is gone.

Sharing

My daughter, Jessica, loves to share. After all, she’s two-and-a-half.

Okay, well…sometimes she loves to share.

On one such occasion, while I was sitting on the couch working on my husband’s laptop, Jessica came into the room carrying her Happy Meal box. My husband had taken the kids with him while he ran errands so that I could get some things done around the house, and he’d taken them to McDonald’s for supper. Jessica climbed up beside me on the couch and handed me a ketchup packet. “Do you want to share these with me?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, wanting to encourage her spirit of sharing. Jessica patted the red box with the golden arch handles and said, “Actually, you can share all of this with me.” She began taking the parts of her meal out of the box and placing them between us on the couch.

Her sweet spirit of sharing reminded me of a certain little boy sitting in the crowd listening to Jesus preach. Lunchtime came, and everybody was hungry. Nobody had brought anything to eat except this one little boy. And he shared the whole thing—his entire lunch.

Usually, when we think about this story, the focus is on Jesus and the great miracle He performed with the itty-bitty lunch. It’s always right to focus on Jesus; in fact, there’s no more worthy object of our attention. But I think we often miss the fact that this little boy shared. He offered what he had. There was no way he could have known what Jesus was about to do. But he shared anyway.

It’s a simple point, I know. It’s not terribly theologically profound. But it matters.

If we would all be as willing to share as the little boy was, or as Jessica was that time she sat beside me, this world would be very different. So would our churches. So would our families. But it’s hard to let go of our free time, our sleep, or our extra money. It’s especially hard to let go of our “right” to have things our way and concede that right to others, letting them have things their way.

What’s hardest for you to share? I know that for me, the answer depends on when you ask. Sometimes, I’m selfish about giving up sleep. Sometimes, I want to hang onto my rights. Please don’t misunderstand me; we aren’t supposed to say “yes” to every opportunity to give of ourselves. There are times when it’s our time to act, and other times when it isn’t. But when it is our time, we need to be willing to share what we have for the benefit of others.

Even if what we have is only an itty-bitty lunch. Or a Happy Meal.

Mark 6:38—“How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.” When they found out, they said, “Five—and two fish.”

Matthew 10:8—Freely you have received, freely give.

Being a Doctor

I love the way kids think. Don’t you? (Well, okay, maybe not all the time, but often.) They see things so much more simply than we adults do.

Case in point: one day, when Lindsey was about three and a half, she and I were playing together. She loved pretend play, where she could be an adult for a little while. That particular day, we were playing with the doctor’s bag filled with a doctor’s tools of the trade—a stethoscope, a thermometer, a blood pressure cuff, and so on. Lindsey was giving me a checkup.

Apparently, I was always pretty sick. Lindsey would stick the thermometer in my mouth, take it out, and turn it to the frowny face that said I had a temperature. “You’re vewy sick,” she would say seriously. She was also very good about performing all kinds of medical procedures and curing all kinds of maladies. She has a caring soul, and she wants to make sure everyone is okay.

“Do you want to be a doctor someday when you grow up?” I asked her.

Lindsey replied happily, “I already am a doctor, cuz I have doctor stuff.”

Of course, if it were that simple, we’d all be playing in golf tournaments and driving really nice cars. But there’s a lot more to becoming a doctor than having doctor “stuff”. We know that, and we therefore wouldn’t claim to be a doctor if we hadn’t gone through medical school.

But the not-so-funny thing is, we often claim to love Christ just because we have Christian “stuff” or do Christian things. We look to our church attendance, our six different Bible versions sitting on the shelf, or our Christian music CD’s, and we take them as evidence of our love for the Lord. But those things are not necessarily indicators of how much we love Him. They may result from our desire to draw close to Him. But it’s possible to have all those things and not really love Him very much, if at all.

In fact, Jesus condemned the Pharisees for having all the right religious “stuff” and at the same time having hearts that were far from God. You and I would do well to examine our hearts, too. We may do all the right things, but do we love Jesus? We may even abstain from all the wrong things, but do we love Him? We might look really good on the surface, and we might even think we’ve got this “Christian walk” thing all together, but are we “doing” Christianity, or loving Christ?

I know there have been times in my life when I was amazed to find I had been on the wrong track, or been missing something, when all along I sincerely thought I was getting it right. Perhaps you’ve had those times, too. That’s why we should regularly present ourselves before God and ask the Holy Spirit to examine our hearts and reveal to us anything that does not please Him.

Let’s be willing to do that this week. Let’s lay ourselves open before Him and ask the Great Physician to purify our hearts of anything that doesn’t belong there. Let’s make sure we truly love Christ with all our heart, and not just with the things we do or possess.

Ephesians 6:24—Grace to all who love our LORD Jesus Christ with an undying love.

The Way Out

Last weekend, our family went camping for the first time. My husband and I had each been camping before, but we’d never been to the wilds since having kids. So, armed with all the camping gear some online list said we should have, and accompanied by some friends who knew more about camping than we did, we set out.

When we got to the state park, we were able to get two campsites that were close together. A short, winding trail of about twenty yards or so connected our sites. While my husband and I set up camp at our site, and our friends set up their tent at their site, our kids enjoyed running back and forth on the path. (We could see them the whole way.)

At one point, however, Lindsey missed a turn and continued straight on what did, indeed, look like a trail. The only problem was that it petered out and left her in the midst of some brambles, less than a yard from our campsite.

“Mommy?” she called, and I looked to see her peering out from in between the brambles and branches, not quite sure how she got there, and not sure how to get out.

“Sweetie, you went the wrong way,” I said. “Just back up. That’s right, turn around, and go—no, not that way—yes, that way. No, wait—never mind. I’ll come show you.”

I got up out of my brand new foldable camping chair and headed toward the trail to show her the way out by doing it myself. And as I did, I thought of how, on a far greater scale, Jesus did the same thing for us.

We had gotten ourselves into a mess, and we couldn’t get out. God had given us the law to show us the way, but we couldn’t follow it adequately. So Jesus came to personally show us.

He didn’t have to. He would have been completely justified in letting us remain stuck forever. After all, our sin is our own fault. But He didn’t. He came to lead us out, to make the impossible possible.

I felt fairly generous in getting out of my comfortable chair to help my daughter out of a mess of her own making. But how vastly more generous Jesus was in coming down from heaven to lead us to the Father!

Will you join me in praising Him?

Jesus, we praise you for Your infinite goodness, love, and mercy in coming to show us the way back. We acknowledge that it’s only through You that we can come back at all. Thank You, Lord, for showing us the way home. Amen.

Philippians 2:5-11—Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is LORD, to the glory of God the Father.

Simple Gifts

If f I had to name the thing I miss most from my pre-mommy days, I would choose “good sleep”. I miss those days when I could count on a good, solid eight hours. I also fondly recall those long-ago times when I could stay up late, knowing that I’d be able to sleep in the next day.

Sleeping in doesn’t happen very often anymore. When I go to bed late, that just means I lose sleep that night. That’s because my body isn’t that one that determines when I wake up. Often, someone else’s little body decides when mine should be awake.

The other day, I was awakened by a little hand patting my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw Jessica’s sleepy face mere inches from my own. “I want to get in Mommy’s bed,” she said.

I knew that if I let Jessica into my bed, any chance of getting further sleep was gone, because she likes to lie right up next to me with her head against my face. She tries to lie quietly, but when she lies that close, I feel every little squiggle (and the big squiggles, too). On the other hand, if I told her to go back to bed, she’d start wailing, and I wouldn’t get any more sleep that way, either.

So I pulled her up into bed with me. She snuggled against me, and I covered us both up. As I lay there, relishing the sweetness of having her little body curled up next to mine, I confess that I also felt a little bit crabby. I love Jessica, and I love cuddling with her, but couldn’t we have cuddled later? I was tired. I wanted to sleep.

If I had been able to sleep in that morning, I would have missed a gift from God. I would have lost precious time with my daughter, and I wouldn’t have heard God saying to my spirit, “Look how secure and relaxed she is with you. Don’t you love it that you can do that for her?”

As I thought more about the gifts God gives me through my children, I realized that I’ve probably been missing a lot of them. I’ve been hearing the requests for attention and missing the greater gift that comes with them.

When my son asks me to play trains with him, God is offering me the gift of knowing that someone wants to be with me just because he loves me.

When my daughter asks me to read to her, I receive the gift of getting to pause and take a moment out of my day to do a favorite activity.

When one of my children says, “Mommy, you look really nice today,” I get to know that someone thinks I’m beautiful.

On a regular basis, God offers all of us mommies the gifts that matter most to us, and He allows our precious children to be His means of delivering those gifts. The requests our children make of us are not just duties to be performed or annoyances to be gotten over. They are God’s way of meeting the deepest needs every mom has. The next time one of our children asks us for something, let’s see beyond the request. Let’s hear not only what our child is asking, but what God wants us to know.

You’re needed. You’re loved. You’re special. You’re a hero.

Philippians 4:19—And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.