How to Have Faith in God

Soundtrack

Megan Breedlove October 19, 2009 0Comment

Sometimes, I wonder which memories will stand out when I look back on this time in my life. When my children are grown and gone, what will I remember from the days when they were young?

I was wondering about that not too long ago. It was a day when everything was going right. My heart overflowed with gratitude to God for the four precious gifts He’s given me, and with love for my children. As I watched them play, the thought hit me, as it has before, that one day, these days are going to be gone. One day, my children will be older, and these wonderful, magical years will have flown by.

Oh, I’ll admit there are days that seem far less magical than others. But right now, there is exquisite joy in watching them play, in seeing them run around the house, in hearing their childish requests, in being needed. My heart hurt at the realization that one day, I will no longer be able to cuddle them the same way I do now. I won’t see them running through my home, smiling and carefree, making their own endless entertainment. Everything will be different, and though I know that in some ways things will be even better, I also know that I will miss these times we have together now.

What will I miss most when I think back? I wondered, and the answer came: their laughter. I’ve heard their laughter so many times, and it has come to mean so much to me, that I can’t imagine being without it.

When the kids were smaller, I used to make it my goal to make them giggle wildly at least once a day, because kids deserve to be able to laugh like that. We still laugh together every day. We play games together, and we tickle each other. We tell jokes, and we share funny stories and discoveries. All of these are occasions for laughter. Sometimes, we laugh for no reason at all except delight in something, or in just being together.

Yes, there are times when the sounds in our home are not so pleasant. If you could listen to us, you would sometimes hear harsh words, anger, or frustration. But most often, you would hear laughter.

For our home, and hopefully for yours, laughter is like the soundtrack of a movie. When you’re watching a movie, you don’t usually notice the music because you’re paying more attention to the action. Laughter is like that. It plays unobtrusively in the background. It’s not as noticeable as the jarring notes of anger and disobedience, despite the fact that the latter make up only a few measures of the entire score.

At least, it should be that way. If it isn’t—if the dissonant, inharmonious notes comprise the main soundtrack, with the laughter making up only brief interludes—do something about that now, before intermission, or worse, before the end of the piece. You can change the composition in the middle. Turn it into a beautiful symphony that blesses you and all those around you.

But stop and listen a minute. Is that laughter you hear, playing in the background of your family’s life? Is your soundtrack already beautiful, even if you haven’t noticed? If so, praise God for its beauty. Thank Him for the laughter and the sounds of love and joy that you regularly hear around your home. Learn to listen for the sweet notes more than you do to the strident ones.

What do you hear in the soundtrack of your home?

Part of what you hear depends on the melodies the Composer has woven into His masterpiece. But part of it also depends on what you’ve learned to hear.

I pray you hear laughter.

Psalm 126:2—Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, “The LORD has done great things for them.”

Yahoo!

Megan Breedlove July 27, 2009 0Comment

It was a beautiful day, the kind where you just have to go to the park. In fact, it was so beautiful that my (then) three children and I walked. Ellie, at just over three years, was pushing a doll in her own stroller. I pushed twenty-one-month-old Kenny and three-month-old Lindsey in our gigantic, all-terrain, mountaineering-isn’t-a-problem double stroller.

Twenty minutes after setting out, we got to the park. (It was only three blocks, but you know how it is walking with small children.) The first thing the kids wanted to do was swing. I helped Ellie and Kenny get into the child swings, and I placed Lindsey nearby in her car seat, which was secured in the stroller.

Both Ellie and Kenny loved to swing. I’d push them as high as I could without scaring myself too much. They thought they were flying. They would grin and soar through the air, again and again, reveling in the delight of it.

This particular day was as exciting as all the others. As Ellie swung back and forth, a huge smile on her face, she suddenly exclaimed, “Yahoo! I’m a caterpillar!”

My first reaction to her announcement was that it was delightfully funny. As I thought more about it, I realized that it was also beautiful and profound.

You see, in Ellie’s mind, it was really true. She was a caterpillar! In that moment, she believed that anything was possible. And she was excited! Under those circumstances, wouldn’t you be excited, too?

Why do we as adults stop believing in wonderful possibilities? Granted, we know some things can’t happen. We can’t actually become caterpillars just because we want to. But why do we let our realism that certain wonderful things can’t happen spill over into cynicism, into the mindset that nothing wonderful will happen? It makes our earthly life a lot less joyful. A lot less vibrant color, and a lot more drab gray.

It makes our spiritual life less joyful, too. We often develop the same mindset spiritually. When we become Christians, we start out believing that God can do anything. So we pray for anything and everything, believing that surely, God will take care of it all. But as God answers “no” to some of our prayers, as Satan tries to do his work in us, and as we come to realize that tragedies do happen, marriages fail, and children die far too early, we become disillusioned. We stop asking for quite so much, because not receiving what we hope for hurts less if we didn’t actually ask for it, or because we figure we’re not going to get it anyway. The joyous expectation with which we began our Christian lives gradually erodes, and we’re left in a place where we don’t expect much, because we think we’ve learned not to.

But precious mommy friend, let me tell you something. The God you began to worship as a baby Christian is still the same God you worship now. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and forever. He is still capable of doing the marvelous, mind-blowing things you asked of Him before you started to forget Who He was and began to settle for much less.

In fact, Paul tells us in Ephesians that God is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine. He wasn’t suggesting, and nor do I suggest, that God will necessarily shower us with material blessings just because we ask. But God will grant us every spiritual blessing we need. In fact, His Word tells us that He already has.

And Malachi the prophet records God’s promise that if the Israelites were to bring their tithes into the storehouse, God would pour out so much blessings upon them that they would not have room enough to receive it. And He will do the same thing today. But note well two things: first, God was not promising material blessings; and second, there is a prerequisite to receiving the flood of blessings: dedicating oneself wholeheartedly to the Lord.

Have you done that? Have you dedicated yourself wholeheartedly to Him? You may be a Christian, but that’s not necessarily the same thing as letting God have your whole heart.

Get on your knees before Him, or in whatever posture best suits your body when you make the cries of your soul known to your King. Offer your whole heart to Him, not just for a moment, but forever. And then prepare yourself to receive more than you can ask or imagine.

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.

Hebrews 13:8—Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Malachi 3:10—“Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the LORD Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.

Ephesians 1:3—Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ

I Got a Blue!

Megan Breedlove February 16, 2009 0Comment

That day, I stood at the stove cooking. (This in itself is memorable enough, but that’s not the point of this story.) My kids were in the living/dining area, playing. For a moment, I had some time to myself.

Then, I heard my son calling out excitedly and his footsteps running toward me.

“I got a blue! I got a blue! I got a blue!”

Kenny arrived in the kitchen, holding a Resurrection egg. (These are eggs that you use at Easter to help kids learn the Easter story. It was July, but I hadn’t put ours away yet since the kids enjoyed playing with them so much.) He held the egg up for me to see.

I don’t remember now whether I was just lost in my own thoughts, or whether I was tending to something on the stove. I do remember that I didn’t start to turn to him until after he was already standing there.

By the time I did start to give him my attention, he was running off.

I hadn’t been deliberately ignoring him, but I felt bad anyway. Even when I’m busy, I try to pay attention to my children whenever they have something special to show me. I want them to feel special and to know that I care about what interests them. This time, I had almost missed what Kenny was trying to show me. Another couple of seconds, and I would have missed it.

Two things come to mind as I think about this incident. The first is a bittersweet thought: our children won’t be this little forever. Someday, they won’t care anymore about showing us a blue egg…or a special rock…or a dirty feather. Those things will no longer interest them. Hopefully, by that time, we will have built relationships with them so that they still show us things—but those things will be different.

Today, it’s marbles and bugs and flowers.

Tomorrow, it’ll be makeup and driver’s licenses and SAT scores.

Oh, friend, don’t miss the precious treasures of today. If you do, you’ll miss out on more than blue eggs—you’ll miss out on joy.

And if you’re not interested today in seeing what they have to show you, they might not be as interested in showing you tomorrow.

The second thing that comes to mind with this memory is gratitude—gratitude to God the Father for never, ever being too busy or inattentive to pay attention to what I want to show Him. Sometimes, I’m “too busy” to tell Him things, but He’s never too busy to listen.

God never says, “Not right now. I’m busy.”

He doesn’t mumble, “Mm-hmm,” while not really listening.

And He doesn’t sigh and say, “Daddy needs to rest right now.”

Aren’t you grateful that our Father doesn’t suffer from the same human weaknesses we suffer from?

He’s never too tired to listen to one more prayer.

He’s never too preoccupied with His own needs to help us with ours.

He’s never disinterested in listening because he’s had a bad day.

Rather, He eagerly awaits hearing from us. He does everything possible to get us to share ourselves with Him. He even searches for us when we’re distant.

Friend, think of it, and praise God! The glorious, almighty God of the entire universe eagerly anticipates hearing from you. He invites you to come, He waits for you to come, and He rejoices when you do.

To Him, what you bring is never “only” a blue plastic egg—it’s a precious piece of yourself, and He loves it when you share yourself with Him.

We as earthly parents rejoice when our children share themselves with us, and God as our heavenly Parent does no less. In fact, He does more. As much as we want relationships with our children, God wants a relationship with us even more.

How incredible. How vastly incredible.

I don’t know how long it’s been since you spent time with Him, but spend some time with Him today. It may not be an hour of uninterrupted prayer and study, but God doesn’t necessarily require that. After all, He knows you’re a mom. He knows that the minute you try to sit down for some uninterrupted time with Him, your kids will find you. Maybe all you have today is a few seconds here and a minute there. Don’t waste them. Spend time with the Person Who loves you most, the One Who is most interested in you. Tell Him anything. Maybe you don’t have a blue Resurrection egg to bring, but you can bring Him what you have. Bring it to Him today. He’s waiting and eager to hear from you.

Ephesians 6:18—Pray…on all occasions with all kinds of prayers.

Summer Fun for $1.82

Megan Breedlove August 4, 2008 0Comment

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.

Happy to Be Last

Megan Breedlove July 21, 2008 0Comment

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)