Manna For Moms

Devotions for Moms Like You!

Two Crackers

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

This summer, we attended our second annual family reunion at a campground in East Texas. The country was beautiful, with tall pine trees and lush green foliage. (“We’re in a jungle!” Kenny shouted, awed, as we passed between rows of huge, leafy trees whose branches almost met overhead.) Walking through the campground, one of the first things I noticed was the sunny, quiet calm, where the only sounds I heard were nature’s sounds. My spirit eagerly drank in the peace.

It was wonderful to be with family. We all live far enough apart that we don’t see each other as often as we’d like. So we met at the campground for a Friday-Saturday reunion, to spend time enjoying each other and catching up on news.

Being as this was a southern family, we also enjoyed a lot of good, home cooking. You just can’t have a southern family reunion without massive amounts of homemade, special-recipe, delicious food. Since there were several children present, there were also copious snacks.

At one point, my two-year-old daughter, Lindsey, wanted a snack. “Cookies!” she requested, pointing to the Ritz crackers.

“Those are crackers, sweetheart,” I said. I picked up the box of crackers and a Styrofoam bowl from the counter, preparing to pour several of the crackers into it.

“Two crackers!” Lindsey said, holding up her hands and making gripping motions.

“I’ll get you some crackers,” I assured her.

“I want two crackers!” She extended her arms straight up, her hands ready.

“I’ll get you some,” I repeated, pouring several crackers into the bowl. As I did, I thought to myself, It’s a good thing I didn’t give her only what she asked for, or she wouldn’t have gotten nearly as much.

I bet God feels the same way when He thinks about our requests.

In His Word, He not only invites us, but commands us to come boldly to His throne of grace with our requests. (Hebrews 4:16) Elsewhere, He tells us to test Him and see if He will not pour out His storehouses of blessings upon us. (Malachi 3:10) We are also told to come to God on all occasions with all kinds of requests. (Ephesians 6:18) Perhaps most bluntly of all, we are admonished that we “have not, because [we] ask not.” (James 4:2)

Let me be clear: these verses are not necessarily talking about material blessings. Yes, it is right to ask God for material things we need. After all, He has promised to provide for us. But these verses refer primarily to spiritual blessings.

There is no way to obligate God to provide us with a new car or new clothes—indeed, with anything—merely by asking “correctly”. He has, however, provided us with “every spiritual blessing.” (Ephesians 1:3)

Dear mommy friend, are you asking God for two crackers? Or are you asking for a bowlful?

Are your prayers limited to requests such as, “Please be with me,” or “Please bless so-and-so,” or “Please make my kids behave”? Or do they include larger petitions like, “Jesus, You came so that I could have abundant life. (John 10:10) Right now, in the midst of diapers and housework, tantrums and carpools, life doesn’t feel too abundant. I ask You to show me what the truth of Your Word looks like in my circumstances, so that I can experience abundant life and others will be drawn to you”?

Fortunately for Lindsey, I desired to give her far more than she asked for.

Fortunately for us, God desires to give us far more than we ask for. In fact, He desires to give us “abundantly more than all we ask or imagine.” (Ephesians 3:20)

So ask Him for your deepest needs (which usually aren’t material things at all). Ask Him boldly.

And if you are asking for His glory—which is key—you can expect to receive.

Not just two crackers, but a bowlful.

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

Spinning Into Control

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

My daughter Lindsey is so much fun to play with. She’s cuddly and adorable; she has a great laugh and grin; and she enjoys life to the fullest. When she was around a year old or so, one of the games she loved to play was “spinning”. I would stand up, holding her facing me. She would wrap her legs around my waist, and I would cradle her in my arms as she leaned back, supporting her head and back. Then, we would spin.

Oh, I can still hear her giggles and see her delighted grin. She thought spinning was the greatest game in the world. I’d spin her once in a circle and stop so that I wouldn’t get dizzy. Lindsey, on the other hand, could go in circles for hours, or maybe days, without getting dizzy. When I stopped, she would beg me to start again.

I’d usually oblige her, spinning her in another circle, stopping, and letting her talk me into doing it again. We’d do it again and again, until I got tired and had to quit.

Have you ever played this game? If you have, you know that as your child leans back in your arms, you must carefully support him or her. You also know that as you spin, the force that is generated pushes your child back against your arms and hands. The faster you spin, the harder your child is pushed back against your outstretched arms.

Lindsey and I were spinning one day when I realized something. Our game of spinning is a lot like how life is with God. Let me explain.

Sometimes, God holds us close against his chest and cuddles us, as I do for Lindsey. Other times, however, as life spins crazily, we find ourselves held not against his chest, but against his outstretched arms. The faster life spins, the stronger the force pushing us against his arms beneath us.

Just as it looks to Lindsey like she is farther away from me when she is lying back on my arms, so life looks to us sometimes. We look at God, and he seems farther away. What we want is to be held and cuddled against his chest, and when we don’t have that, we get frightened and upset.

Was Lindsey frightened when I spun her? Not at all. Neither should we be frightened when life is spinning us, because just as Lindsey knew, we know that there are arms underneath us, and that the faster the spin, the stronger the force holding us in those arms.

We may not giggle and laugh as Lindsey does when we are spinning. For us, sometimes the spinning isn’t fun at all. Sometimes, it’s tragic. Sometimes, it’s just our own fault. Sometimes, it’s terrifying.

But think about this a minute. Could Lindsey feel the force pushing her back against my arms? Of course, she could. The faster we spun, the more solidly she could feel my arms beneath her. That’s what allowed her to laugh, squeal, and enjoy the ride. Without the feeling of my support, she would have been terrified. With my support, she was exhilarated.

Could we experience life the same way?

Maybe. Maybe not. When circumstances are agonizing, we’re not going to laugh. It’s not going to be fun or exhilarating at all.

But we don’t have to be afraid. We never have to be afraid. The same arms that cuddle us close are the same arms that hold us secure, even when life seems to be spinning out of control. In fact, it’s during the times when the spinning is craziest that those arms hold us most strongly.

We often use that phrase—spinning “out of control”. Dear friends, let me suggest a better phrase.

How about spinning “into” control?

It’s true, isn’t it? And it reflects the principle that when the spinning is strongest, so is the support. We never spin out of God’s control. God never loses control of us for any reason. In fact, during the times of life that feel most out of control, he gives us the incredible gift of letting us sense his arms beneath us the most strongly. As we spin, we are pressed into his arms. We spin into control.

The next time you’re spinning—and the time will come—remember this. Take a moment, and feel those arms beneath you. He’s got you. He’ll never let you fall.

Isaiah 26:3—You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you.

Do-Over

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

“H, I, J, K, L, O…H, I, K…H, I, J, K, L, M, O…L, M, O, P….”

I sat next to my daughter on her bed as she did her best to sing me the Alphabet Song. I had sung her two songs from her book in place of a bedtime story, and now, she wanted to sing me one. Only…it wasn’t going smoothly.

“Q, R, X….”

She knew the song by heart, but she was struggling, index finger extended, to point to each letter in the book as she sang it. For some reason, she kept making mistakes, and each time she did, she would start over.

As I sat watching and listening to her struggle to do something she knew she should have been able to do, I was struck by the parallels to my life as a mom.

Sometimes, I make mistakes—repeated mistakes, even—on things I know I should be able to get right. I snap at the children. I hurry them along when I should stop and take time to look at that interesting rock. I punish them for things that aren’t wrong, exactly, just a result of being their age. Or, worse, I fail to hear the cry of their hearts and only hear their voices grating on my nerves, and I react.

Those times are when I wish I could have a do-over. You remember “do-overs” from childhood—those blessed opportunities where you got to pretend your mistake never happened and do the whole thing again, getting it right this time. Best of all, everyone else would pretend like your mistake never happened, too. After the do-over, you could proceed with an unblemished record and no negative effects to anyone.

Don’t you wish that as mommies, we could have do-overs? That when we do something we know we shouldn’t, we could be certain that the effects were permanently wiped away from our child’s precious spirit?

Friend, let me tell you something. You and I both know that what is said can’t be unsaid, and what is done can’t be undone. But praise God, we also know that in Christ, there are do-overs.

If you have acknowledged your sin to Christ and have repented of it, acknowledging Him as your Lord and Savior, then you have been given the biggest do-over of all. But it doesn’t stop there. Christ didn’t come to wipe away only the guilt for the sins we committed before being saved. He wiped away the guilt for later sins, too. If we repent of our sins—in other words, confess them and turn from them—God will forgive us. It’s another do-over. We can wipe the slate clean and start again.

As Ellie tried and tried again to get it right, she awarded herself as many do-overs as necessary. Finally, she did succeed. She got the whole alphabet right, all the way through. And then, you know what? She moved on. She didn’t condemn herself for not having gotten it right the first several times, or for needing—and using—do-overs. Instead, she simply kept “keeping on” until she accomplished what she knew she could do.

Why don’t we as moms do that? Why do we decide to condemn ourselves for not getting it right the first few times? True, sin is sin and should never be taken lightly. It should be repented of and confessed. But after that’s done, why stay there wallowing in guilt that no longer exists? Why not just move on—to the next day, the next opportunity, the next activity?

You know, the way we move on after sin in our lives will teach our children a lot about the God they will hopefully one day serve. If our children see us repenting of and confessing our sin, then moving on as if forgiveness is a reality, they will learn to do the same. If they see us living as if we are unforgiven, they will learn that forgiveness is nothing more than a “church word” that doesn’t apply to real life.

So the next time you get the letters out of order, before you try again, stop and confess your failure to God. Ask for his forgiveness. And then move on, towards the letter Z. With his help, you’ll make it through.

1 John 1:9—If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to purify us from all unrighteousness.

Romans 8:1—Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Missing Rainbows

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

One time, I was driving my three kids home from a playdate. We had had a good time, but it was well past their bedtimes already (which meant well into my “Mommy Time”), and, being pregnant on top of that, I was tired. As we got closer to home, I was focused on the road and on doing the job of getting us home safely. Ellie, however, was focused on something else. “Look, Mommy, a rainbow!” she said excitedly.

I turned my head not all that far to the left, and there it was—a perfect, vibrantly beautiful rainbow, clearly defined throughout the entire arc, all the way down to where it disappeared behind the buildings at either end. “It’s beautiful!” I said, and we admired it for awhile.

“Do you remember what rainbows mean?” I asked.

“They mean that God’s never going to flood the earth again,” Ellie said.

“That’s right,” I said, “and we know that’s true because God always keeps His promises.”

I mentally approved my “seizing the teachable moment” and figured that I had helped Ellie extract the appropriate theological meaning from it. I didn’t realize until later that there was much more to learn from this incident, and that I was the one who was to learn it.

I had almost missed the beauty of the rainbow and its reflection of one of God’s promises because I was so focused on pursuing my own path. Had I turned my head just a slight bit, I would have seen it for myself, but I was too intent on my own priorities.

I wonder…how many of God’s other promises do I miss contemplating the beauty of because I’m just not looking?

Sure, I know God’s promises are there, just like I know there are rainbows in the world. But how often do I take time to meditate on His precious promises, gazing upon their beauty and soaking it in? How often do I pursue my own goals without even considering which of God’s applicable promises He might be displaying in radiant beauty right next to me, trying to get my attention?

In February, when my newest daughter was born, I became the mother of four small children, ages four and under. Having four such young children involves a lot of work. But do I spend all my time thinking about how to handle the logistics of it all, or do I make it a point to consider which of God’s promises he might be offering me as a special gift to encourage my spirit? It’s true that there are a lot of details to consider, and it is good and right that I should do so. But it is not good and right to focus on those concerns to the extent that I neglect meditating on God’s word, which includes His promises.

What about you? Do you spend time focusing on your health, or your finances, or your relationships, yet fail to focus on God’s promises for you in those areas? I don’t know what challenges you face, but I do know that they may be very difficult. I also know that God wants to speak to you in the midst of your challenges and strengthen you, physically, spiritually, or emotionally.

You see, that is why He caused the biblical writers to include more than twelve hundred precious promises in their text. He wants us to know for sure that no matter what else is going on in life, we can count on Him for these things.

Twelve hundred promises. In fact, twelve hundred sixty. Twelve hundred sixty things God wants us to know but that we spend little time contemplating. I wonder how much it would change our lives if we spent more time considering these words of our Lord. How much would we be strengthened? How much would we be encouraged? How much would we be enlightened and reassured? How much more wise would we become? How much more secure? And even more importantly than that, how much more in love would we be with our precious God who gave us twelve hundred sixty promises about what He will do for us because He loves us?

Tonight, get out your Bible—or if you have a promise book (where God’s promises are gathered, usually by categories), use that. Spend some time meditating on them. Be in awe at how much your holy, omnipotent, God of all creation is promising you because He loves you. Ask Him if there is one particular promise (or more) that He wants to make especially relevant to you right now. Don’t forget to thank Him for His great and precious promises. And don’t forget to look for these rainbows all the time.

Genesis 9:15—I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.

2 Samuel 22:31—As for God, his way is perfect. All the LORD’s promises prove true. He is a shield for all who look to him for protection.

Summer Fun for $1.82

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

One beautiful evening about a month or so ago, I took my kids out to the back yard to play on the swing set. Fortunately, my kids love being outdoors, so I try to take them out as often as weather permits. Two of the neighbor kids joined us—Bubba, who’s sixteen, and his sister Heather, nine. Bubba had a tennis ball with him—I think he had brought it out to play with his dogs.

I don’t remember exactly how the game started. All I remember is that Bubba threw the ball, and my kids went running after it. Kenny was the most loudly enthusiastic, laughing his great cackle as he chased the ball and tried to find it. (It was green, so it blended in with the grass, especially since the grass needed to be mowed). Lindsey was running as fast as her little toddler legs could carry her. She wasn’t fast enough to have much chance of getting to the ball before Kenny, but that didn’t stop her. So there they both went. Kenny picked up the ball and brought it back to Bubba. Bubba threw it again, and they were off.

For about half an hour, Bubba or Heather would throw the ball, and Kenny and Lindsey (and sometimes Ellie) would chase it and bring it back. It was like a game of “fetch”, but with kids instead of dogs. In fact, they enjoyed the game so much, that I decided the next time I was at Wal-Mart, I would buy a canister of tennis balls so we could play ourselves.

So the next time I found myself at Wal-Mart, I made my way to the sporting goods section and found the tennis balls. There it was: a canister of summer fun for $1.82. There were three balls in the canister, and I could only imagine how much fun they would have with three balls at once. Who needs Disney World? We have tennis balls!

I bought the tennis balls and brought them home. Turns out playing “fetch” in the house is almost as much fun as playing outside, especially with three balls. Then a thought occurred to me, and I did the math: $1.82 divided by 3 equals a little more than $.60 per ball. Yep, these tennis balls fitted in with my idea that all the kids’ best toys cost a dollar or less.

Have you noticed that? Have you noticed how kids can enjoy a toy’s packaging more than the toy itself? How they can enjoy playing “fetch” outside as much as playing in a bounce house? Kids can make their own fun out of toys that cost less than a dollar, or that are free. They can have as much fun playing outside for free as they can going to Disney World.

I’m not saying that expensive toys or fancy vacations are bad. In fact, if I could actually ride any of the rides without getting sick, I would consider going to Disney World myself. What I am saying is that we should take a lesson from our kids.

You and I need to be able to have fun without having to spend our life’s savings on it. We should be able to be content with what God gives us without always having to have the biggest, fanciest, or most expensive item. Let’s take this a step further. Do we always have to have a flashy, exciting life, or can we be content with a simple life? Again, owning expensive things or taking nice vacations isn’t necessarily wrong. But if we experience a lack of contentment with what we can afford, or if we fail to enjoy the simple things because we’re always looking for something flashier, better, or more exciting, we have a problem.

When was the last time you stopped to look at a sunset? I don’t just mean for the three seconds it takes to say, “Look, kids, a pretty sunset.” I mean, stood there and really enjoyed it.

When was the last time you took some time to yourself to just do nothing—to be instead of do?

When was the last time that you had a blast with your kids doing something as simple as finger painting, or splashing in the bath, or running around outside?

I’d like to challenge you to do something. Spend some time in prayer today, or at least this week, and ask God if there are areas in which you need to simplify your life. He may direct you in any of a number of ways. Why will He do this? He wants to remove from our lives anything that gets in the way of enjoying Him and hearing His voice. Fancy, expensive, or complicated things are not necessarily bad. But preoccupation with them is. Ask God if there is anything that is stealing your focus from Him and His still, small voice. Then, be willing to release it to Him. You won’t be letting yourself in for a boring, empty life. You’ll be paving the way for life abundant.

1 Timothy 6:8—But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that.

Longing

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

I sat in the shallows of the lake, the sun-warmed water ebbing and flowing around me, the gentle sun itself smiling down on me. There weren’t very many people at the lake yet that morning besides my husband, my three children, and me. Ellie, my oldest at four years old, played on a green, ring-shaped float while Daddy supervised. Kenny and Lindsey, two-and-a-half and one, alternately sat in my lap and played in the crystal-clear water, scooping up the small pebbles on the bottom or trying to catch the fish they could easily see.

I had tried to take Lindsey out further into the water, holding her securely in my arms, so that I could enjoy the deeper water myself. She didn’t like it and started fussing. Kenny didn’t want to go deeper, either. So the three of us stayed in the shallows, enjoying the beautiful lake—something there aren’t many of near where we live.

I was content…mostly. As I gazed across the lake to the opposite shore, where the hills rose a hundred feet above the shoreline, I felt at peace. It was quiet. It was peaceful, with few other people around. It was beautiful. I had my dearest loved ones with me, including the baby in my womb. Yet I wished that I could strike out into deeper water on my own. I wanted to float in the water that couldn’t have been a more perfect temperature, maybe swim a little, or just walk a little, feeling the water move past me as I displaced it. I wanted to be out there by myself, no one around me, no demands upon me, and utterly at peace. I was blessedly happy where I was, in those perfect moments that don’t happen every day…yet I longed for something more.

I believe that this is how God wants us to long for heaven. He’s given us a beautiful world to enjoy. He’s given us relationships. He’s given us moments that are so perfect they almost hurt, because we know they’re fleeting, and no matter how hard we try to hold on, they will suddenly slip through our grasp and be gone. He’s given us so many blessings and so many foretastes of perfection and of the divine that we can—and should—be content here. But He knows He has something more in store for us, and He wants us to long for it, knowing that its wonder and beauty will surpass even the most perfect moment on earth.

In heaven, we will worship God face to face. Stop and think about that for a minute. Can you even imagine it? What will it be like to see the face of the One Who made everything that exists, including you? What will it be like to be fully in his presence, undeterred by sin?

In heaven, there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain. Wow. How many times today did one of these things intersect your life? How many times did a child cry? How many times was someone sad? How many times was someone hurt, physically or emotionally? Perhaps someone you love even died today. But in heaven, no more. In heaven, none of these things ever takes place.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, that this life is not all there is. Yes, we should enjoy it. Yes, we should be grateful for the gifts God has given us in part to make our time here more bearable. But no matter how wonderful your life is, I guarantee that heaven surpasses it by a wider margin than you can possibly imagine.

We who are Christians have this hope (expectation) of heaven to help us through our time here on earth. When things are difficult here, we can remember that this is not all there is. When we struggle to pray or connect with God, spirit to spirit, we can remember that one day, we will see him face to face and know him fully, even as we are fully known. But in order to enjoy the anticipation of heaven, we must make sure we aren’t too focused on the temporary pleasures of earth.

If you’re like me, it’s easy to get caught up in the myriad details of earth that demand your attention. And it’s true that we have to pay attention to many of these things in order to fulfill the earthly responsibilities God has given us. But it’s vital to make time for spiritual things, too.

I believe that we should make it a point to regularly consider heaven. Wouldn’t it make a difference in the midst of trials if you stopped and remembered that these trials are not all there is and that heaven awaits you? Wouldn’t it give you perspective in life? And most of all, wouldn’t it result in your giving praise and glory to God for His amazing, overflowing generosity in allowing us to join Him in heaven at all and for preparing such a wonderful place for us?

You see, that longing we all have for things to be better—spiritually, physically, emotionally—will be completely fulfilled one day. So the next time you find yourself wishing things were different, remind yourself that one day, they will be—and they’ll be better than you can possibly imagine.

Revelation 21:3-4—God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eye. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.

Happy to Be Last

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

Sometimes, it really matters who’s first.

Sure, you say, like in the Olympics, or the Miss America pageant, or maybe, to include the educational realm, at the National Spelling Bee.

But no, none of those is what I’m talking about.

I’m talking about far more important events, like the race across the parking lot to our van as we’re leaving the YMCA.

I have four children, three of whom are old enough to run, at ages five, three-and-a-half, and two. Watching them, I have learned that apparently, it really, really matters who gets to the van first. I’m not sure why; I just know that it does. I know that for some reason, it’s fairly close to the end of the world to be last—unless you’re my two-year-old daughter.

Let me explain.

The other night, after playing a game of racquetball at the Y, I picked up my children from childcare. In one hand, I had the baby carrier. The other three kids were walking—until the race began, which happened almost as soon as we hit the sidewalk outside the building.

My oldest two, Ellie and Kenny, started running toward the van, while Lindsey, the two-year-old, ran along behind in her adorable version of running that’s equal parts bounce, trot, and run. “Don’t run in the parking lot!” I shouted, or some variation of that, not wanting them to get hit by a car.

They didn’t listen, so I tried to hurry, lugging the baby carrier, and staying close enough between Ellie and Kenny in front and Lindsey behind me so that if danger threatened any of them, I could do something about it.

Unsurprisingly, Ellie and Kenny wound up at the van first. I reached them and prepared to deliver my “I-don’t-want-you-to-run-in-the-parking-lot-because-you’ll-get-smooshed-by-a-car” speech for the hundredth time, but Ellie spoke first.

“She’s last,” she said, looking back toward Lindsey.

I looked, too, and saw one of the most precious sights I will ever see—my adorable daughter, loping along, a huge grin on her face, watching her feet as she bounced/ran/trotted through the parking lot so that she wouldn’t trip. The sunlight was shining on her hair, turning it golden. Her grin was melting my heart.

Lindsey had no idea that anyone had reached the van before her because she wasn’t paying attention. Or if she did know, she didn’t care, because her attention was on her own journey.

Maybe that’s a lesson we need to learn.

Dear friend, have you ever felt discouraged because you were last?

Maybe you were the first one eliminated in the spelling bee. Maybe you would never think of entering a pageant. Maybe the closest you will get to the Olympics is watching them on TV.

Maybe these aren’t the kind of arenas in which you compare yourself. Maybe being beautiful or athletic really isn’t that important to you. Maybe your “race” is to be known as the most spiritual, or know your Bible the best, or be the most sought-after person for leading things at church.

Most of these goals aren’t necessarily bad. It’s admirable to want to train for the Olympics and win first place. It’s great to want to know your Bible well. The problem comes when you turn everything in life into a race where who’s first matters, and when you can’t even enjoy the journey unless you’re first.

Out of the three kids who ran to the van, who had the most fun? Lindsey.

She’s last.

Oh, yes, but she had the most fun.

She didn’t feel bad about herself at all.

Friends, how do you think God wants us to look at life? As if it’s a race where being first matters? Does he want us to race so fast that we forget to enjoy the blessings he has given us along the way?

In the race at the Y, Ellie was first, and Kenny came in a close second.

Lindsey was the one who enjoyed the race most. Lindsey was the one who enjoyed God’s blessings along the way—the fun way her body moved, the sun on her head, the freedom to run through a parking lot (under Mom’s watchful eye). She was also the one who enjoyed these things longest, because for her, the race wasn’t about getting to the end, but simply about being in the race at all.

Now don’t get me wrong—I’m not suggesting that you shouldn’t strive for excellence in life. When you’re in a race where the outcome matters, you should run to win the prize. What I am saying is that maybe sometimes, the results aren’t the most important part of the race. Maybe sometimes, you need to turn a race into a simple journey. Definitely, you shouldn’t hinge your feelings about yourself, or about the race, on whether or not you come in first.

Think about it. Are there areas of your life that you can’t enjoy because you’re not first, not perfect, not the best or the most?

Why don’t you try running the race like Lindsey?

Lope through the parking lot grinning and doing the best you can, and be happy with that.

2 Timothy 4:7—I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. (italics mine)

Dirty Apples

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

My daughter Lindsey loves apples. She loves playing with them, eating them, hoarding them, stealing them, making a mess with them…you name it. (Of course, this is pretty much how she treats everything, but that’s another story.) One time, when she was 18 months old, she asked for an apple for a snack. I got out my handy-dandy apple slicer, where you press the thing down on top of the apple and it cores it and chops it into slices, all at the same time, and sliced the apple for her.

She was not content, however, to take one measly slice, or even to wait for me to put the slices into a bowl. Instead, she had to grab all the apple slices and walk away—probably to leave them on the floor somewhere, or maybe to actually eat them.

But fresh-cut apple slices are slippery, and when you’re only 18 months old and you’re trying to hold eight slices in your two little hands, well, it’s tough to do. So as she headed across the kitchen, most of the slices slipped out of her hands and landed on the floor.

I headed toward her to pick up the slices, intending to throw them away and slice her another apple. But Lindsey saw me coming, bent down, scooped up the slices in both hands, and started toddling away as fast as she could go.

I caught up with her, and when she felt my hand touch her, she sat down on the floor and began to cry, clutching those apples in her two little fists like they were the Hope Diamond and I was trying to steal it. “No! No!” she screamed tearfully as I pried them from her grip. Then, when she finally gave in to the realization that she had lost, she stopped saying “No!” and just wailed.

“I’ll get you some more apples,” I had tried to say as I took the apples away from her. “These are dirty. I’ll get you some more.”

But she didn’t want more apples. She wanted the ones she already had. The ones that fell on the floor and were dirty now. The ones fit only for the trash can. Those were her precious apples, and I was taking them from her.

Friends, have you ever tried to hang onto dirty apples?

Oh, I don’t mean actual food that has fallen on the floor. I mean things that God is trying to take away from you, telling you that they’re no good. When he wants to remove something from you, do you let him, or do you scream and cry and clutch your dirty apples with all of your might? When he finally, mercifully, removes them from you by force, do you wail, heartbroken?

I think we have all been there. But oh, dear friends, we don’t have to be there ever again.

Lindsey was too young to understand that I was taking the apples away for her own good, intending to replace them with something far better. Or if she did understand, the pain of losing the apples she already had was too great for her, and she clung to what she already had hold of, even though they were dirty. Even though they were trash.

There is a Rich Mullins song with a line that goes, “I’d rather fight you for something I don’t really want than to take what you give that I need.”

That’s exactly what I’m talking about.

God never asks us to give things up, or removes things from us, just to cause us grief with no other good purpose in mind. We know for certain, because we know his character and because he has revealed this in the Bible, that everything he does to and for us is for our good and his ultimate glory (which are one and the same).

So why, when he asks us to turn loose of something, do we fight him? Maybe it’s because we forget his character. Lindsey thought I was being mean to her. Sometimes, we question God’s goodness. Other times, our emotions are so intensely involved that we simply can’t bear to part with the thing in question, and any attempt to make us part with it sets off such intense grief that we just can’t consider anything else.

There’s another way we could respond when we’re asked or required to give up something we hold dear. It’s easy to say “Okay, God” when we understand and agree with the reason for giving it up. Right now, I’m talking about when we don’t understand, or we understand but don’t agree. During those times, we can make a decision of our will to voluntarily give up to God that which he is requiring of us. This doesn’t mean saying we desire to give it up. Quite the contrary, sometimes. What it does mean is that we can tell God, “God, I know that you wouldn’t ask me to give this up if there weren’t a sufficient reason. Although everything within me wants to fight you on this, I choose to follow not my flesh, not my limited understanding, but that which I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is true—that you are good, all the time, and that if you require something from me, that is good enough reason, even if I don’t understand why. So I choose to give this up to you so that you don’t have to pry it from my hand. I do this even though it grieves me…even though it tears my heart in two…even though if you gave me the choice, I would scream, ‘No! Don’t take it!’”

Hard? Oh, yes. Friend, I’ve been there. I know it can be agonizingly hard. But I also know it’s worth it to surrender willingly.

You see, God will take what he needs to take, whatever our response may be. So will we fight him? Or will we let go?

Will we hold onto the dirty apples? Or will we trade them in for something better, that even if we can’t see and don’t understand right now, we know it’s coming? Because you can be assured that God will bring good out of even the greatest tragedy. That’s the kind of wonderful God we have.

Isaiah 55:9—For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Romans 8:28—And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

Desiring Milk

Megan Breedlove 0 Comments

I have a precious five-month-old daughter named Jessica. She’s perfect, from the silken top of her little head to the smooth bottoms of her little feet. She has a grin that makes me grin, too, no matter what else is going on in my day. I love to watch her wave her arms and kick her legs when she’s excited, or even when she’s just interested in something. It’s wonderful to cuddle her warm body against my chest and feel her own little chest rising and falling with the soft rhythms of her breathing.

Already, she has learned to smile and laugh. She’s beginning to learn to sit up. She’s working on grasping things and bringing them to her mouth, and she sure knows how to gnaw on my finger once she’s caught it.

There is one thing, however, that she never had to learn because she already knew it, from the moment she was born: what to do when she’s hungry.

When babies begin to be hungry, they start rooting and moving their head around, trying to find a source of nourishment. If they don’t find one soon enough—or if the need, once felt, is too acute—they cry. Sometimes, they scream.

These are not happy little screams of delight that make us smile. These are desperate screams. They are “I’m hungry, and I need food right now!” screams.

When a baby is hungry, everything in her little body cries out for food. The baby is desperate. Young babies don’t understand the concept of “wait”. All they know is that they’re hungry, and they need food right away in order to satisfy the gnawing hunger within.

Friends, are you equally desperate for God’s Word?

The other day, I was feeding my daughter and thinking about how her sole, consuming desire when she’s hungry is for food. Then, I thought about the verse which tells us that we are to desire the milk of God’s Word “as newborn babes”.

I had always understood that verse as meaning that just as newborns need simple milk (or formula), so we need the simple things from God’s word when we are new believers. But that day, I saw the verse in a new light.

It all hinges on the word “as”.

If, in this verse, “as newborn babes” means merely “since you are newborns”, that would indicate that just as human newborns need simple milk, so spiritual newborns need simple truth.

But if “as newborn babes” modifies the word “desire”, it means “in the same way that newborn babies desire their milk”.

Let’s look at how that verse could read. “In the same way that newborn babies desire their milk, you should desire God’s Word so that you can grow.”

So what is the way that newborn babies desire their milk?

Desperately. Immediately. With singular focus.

What would it mean for our spiritual lives if we desired God’s Word desperately, immediately, and with singular focus, just like my daughter desires to be fed when she is hungry?

I confess that I don’t entirely know what this would look like. My desire for the things of God often falls short of where I would like it to be.

I do know this, however: I want to desire God’s Word in that way. I want my soul to hunger for it every bit as much as my daughter’s stomach hungers for milk.

When my daughter’s stomach is full on a regular basis with the right kind of milk, what happens? She grows. When our spirits are full of God’s Word on a regular basis, what happens? We grow, as the rest of the verse says. Could Jessica grow without milk? No.

Can we grow spiritually without God’s Word? No.

What would happen if I neglected to fill my daughter’s stomach? Her physical body would waste away. What happens when we fail to fill our spirits with God’s Word? Our spirits waste away.

We desperately need to make God’s Word a priority in our spiritual lives, for just as the consumption of milk ultimately affects every aspect of a baby’s life, so our ingestion of God’s Word ultimately affects every aspect of our spiritual lives, and many aspects of our earthly lives, too.

What can you or I do if we don’t really desire God’s Word all that much? The place to start is by confessing your lack of desire and asking God to give you a hunger for His Word. Then—and it sounds simple because it is—get into the Word. Start reading. After all, we’re commanded to study God’s Word, and that should be reason enough to do it.

You will find that your desire increases as you do.

1 Peter 2:2—As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby.

Angry Mom

Megan Breedlove 4 Comments

I saw Angry Mom the other day in the refrigerated foods section at Wal-Mart.

I was heading for the juice, and she and her two children were already standing there. As she stood there weighing the merits of different brands, her daughter stood near the cart. Her son, about ten years old, rolled around nearby on those roller-sneakers—you know, those tennis shoes that have wheels in the bottom. He wasn’t really getting in anybody’s way or causing a nuisance, until…

“Ouch!” Angry Mom shouted. “Watch out! Those things hurt!”

I don’t remember whether the boy mumbled some sort of apology. I think he did. What I do remember next is how after that, the boy couldn’t do anything right. In the less than sixty seconds that I was standing there choosing two kinds of juice to buy, she snapped at him two or three more times. It looked to me like it wasn’t a matter of him really doing anything wrong, but rather of her still being mad that he ran into her with his sneaker-skates. Now, everything he did made her mad.

The tone of her voice was harsh and disgusted. Demeaning. Standing there staring at the juice, trying to pretend that I wasn’t listening (I couldn’t help but hear her), I cringed inside. I knew her words, her tone, and her attitude that now-nothing-you-do-is-right had to be wounding his spirit. And inside, I cringed for the tender boy that surely still lived inside a ten-year-old body.

Then it hit me, like a punch to my stomach. Her voice was mine. Her child was mine. Her words, tone, and attitude were mine.

You see, I’ve been there.

I’ve been her.

I’ve wounded my child with my responses to childish mistakes or accidents. I’ve indicated with my tone of voice that I was disgusted with my child. I’ve shown by my words that my child had screwed up so badly, nothing they could do would be right for awhile.

I felt sick.

Soon, the mom and her children wheeled their cart away, and I was alone by the juice with my thoughts and my guilt. I realized that for a few moments, I had condemned the mother’s actions (rightly so) without realizing that they were my own.

As I pushed my cart down the side aisle, I encountered the family again. I first noticed them because the mother was raising her voice. “Isabel!”

Isabel was coming in my direction, while the mother and son were further away from me.

“Isabel!”

You know, I thought, I bet she chose the name ‘Isabel’ because she thought it was the most beautiful name she could think of. Yet listen to how she calls it now. “Isabel!” No beauty. She’s shouting that name like it’s an ugly name. Yet once she spoke it because it was beautiful.

Oh, friends, have you been there, too? Not in the side aisle at Wal-Mart, but in the same situation that mother was in, where maybe you were having a bad day anyway, and one of your children pushed one of your buttons, and you snapped? And after that, you couldn’t get yourself back under control? And you heard the ugliness and unfairness in your voice, but it felt like you couldn’t stop yourself?

If you have, take a minute right now and confess your sins to God. Confess the way you’ve treated your children. You may even need to confess the way you’ve judged other mothers for things that you have done yourself.

Ask your children to forgive you, too. Humbly asking forgiveness can go a long way toward healing a child’s wounded spirit.

Then, spend some time meditating on how God treats you. When you run into him with your sneaker-skates, does he yell at you and then pick disgustedly on everything you do? Does he call your name as if it’s devoid of all the beauty he used to think it had?

Of course not. Our God is amazingly, perfectly loving. He loves us even when we’ve messed up. Even when we have done something wrong, he always treats us with love and dignity.

Determine that you will do the same. That you won’t become Angry Mom just because your child has annoyed you. Remember their delicate little spirits. Thank God for his love, and show the same love to your children.

Matthew 7:3-5—Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

1 John 3:1—How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!

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