Psalm 30:5b says, Weeping may last for the night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning."
Megan died yesterday. I spent a lot of time thinking about writing this blog today. I had held off until this day because I just haven't been enthusiastic about anything lately. I have been thinking about Megan, wondering what she was thinking as she was getting weaker. I wondered if she was curious about heaven, if she was excited to see her mother again who died 3 years ago from breast cancer. I wondered mostly if she was scared.
I spent time thinking about Gary. I wondered if it was true, that missing a child that you've had years of memories with wasn't as bad as missing one you never had a chance to build memories with. I think it would be worse. I realized after 1am last night that Megan died just before her 13th birthday and Rebekah will celebrate her 13th birthday in heaven next week. Well, not really, I don't think there are birthday celebrations in heaven, but that's for a different post. I wonder if Megan and Rebekah will be friends in heaven.
I was thinking about Ian, Megan's big brother. His birthday is today, June 3rd. I think he's 20 today. He just finished his second year at the Univ. of Alabama. How, more than ever, must he want to be a little boy again and just cry like a child. I bet he doesn't think he can. He can, there would be an awful lot of shoulders more than willing to bear his tears.
I was thinking about Bradley, Megan's other big brother. His 16th birthday was Monday - the day before she died. Bradley, as many of you know, has a special place in my heart. It's a special God-made spot that I don't understand but am so thankful that God can do that and is happy to make that place for him. I worry some about Bradley. He's not really emotional and very few of us will see his tears. And there will be people that won't approve of that. I told him that he can't pretend to be someone he's not. But he does need to be honest with someone about his feelings - all of them. I have been trying to be that adult that he talks to. I really have no agenda and since I'm not related I'm not defensive about anything he says. Mostly, I want him to understand the perspective of the adults in his life so he's not rebellious against them and I want him to have a correct perspective about God in the midst of all of this so that he doesn't hate God or think God has something against him.
I have been thinking a lot about Sam. We took Sam out to stay with Bradley almost 2 weeks ago. He had a lot of jobs for an almost 16 year old boy. He was determined to be Bradley's accountability. Bradley would have had a lot of alone time; with Sam, not so much. But in the end, Sam, the huge hearted young man with compassion the size of Texas, was to be there to love his best buddy. Sam has been there through a lot of this with the Brittain's. As young friends, when we lived in Alabama, Sam and Bradley used to go into Sharon's room and lay on her bed when she was too week to be in the living room with her kids. When Sharon died, we had already moved to WV. I can remember like it was yesterday the phone call from Bradley telling Sam his mom had died. Michael rushed Sam to Bradley's side - telling the school that Sam was leaving for a couple of days and to get over it. Driving all day long for Sam to put his arms around his dear friend and stand beside him as they watched his mother's body lowered beneath the ground.
And now, 3 years later, Sam will once again stand beside his best friend as they watch Bradley's sister's body lowered beneath the ground. I think about my precious Sam and wonder if I will ever know all that God is doing in his life even as I write this. I wonder if Sam really has any idea. I pray that as he pours his love out into the life of his friend that God will pour more of Himself into Sam and that this will be a turning point in Sam's life.
This is my commandment that you love one another, just as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." John 15:12,13
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The Dancing Sparrow....
Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God. Indeed, the very hairs on your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows. Luke 12:6-7
I am amazed by God often. So often that any form of "Amazing Grace" brings me to tears. But today put me over the edge. It was Kate's first dance recital with Ballet Magnificat! There's very little in the performance of 7 seven year olds that should bring a grown woman to tears but there were several times when my composure was pushed beyond it's limits and it was all I could do to not look visibly emotional.
About 20 years ago, married only 5 years and with children far from my mind, I sat in a small Christian school auditorium in Fayetteville, NC watching a performance of a dance troupe I'd never heard of before. Ballet Magnificat! hailed from Jackson, MS and gained fame among the Christian community as a dance arts group that performed for two reasons only - to glorify God and bring people to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. It was a small group of young women performing and I adored the music that they chose. Some contemporary Christian (at that time) and some classical but always pulling me in to their message through beautiful movement. I sat there thinking, "If I have a daughter, I would love her to dance with this company."
What a silly thought though. I had no idea when we'd have children or if God would even bless us with a daughter and to be honest, I had no intention of ever living in Jackson, MS.
Children came... first a son, then another son, then a daughter... a very sick daughter who God took home to be with Him. We did move to Jackson, MS and while there we had another son and we decided to be happy with our sweet little, healthy family. Still, when we saw little girls dancing in church it was very hard to not weep. In our minds, our little girl would dance - it always reminded us that God was raising our daughter, not us.
Then, to our surprise, we were blessed with another daughter. By the time she was three she was dancing with Doxa Dance Company in West Virginia. Terri Stutler, her teacher went every other year to Ballet Magnificat! for classes. WOW, I remembered all those years ago watching that performance. Isn't God weird? In a good way, I mean. She danced for two years before we found out we were moving... back to Jackson, MS.
She sat out a year from dancing. She wasn't sure she wanted to dance under anyone else but after seeing DVD's of "The Christmas Dream" performances of Ballet Magnificat! she decided it was time to get back in the game.
Less than one year later, I sat in an audience of hundreds watching my daughter fulfill MY dream. But really, it wasn't she that fulfilled it - it was God. Oh how true that He cares about the smallest of hopes and dreams. So now, we watch little girls dance to music that worships our Lord but we don't cry because our second daughter is dancing with them. Well, that's not true, I cry but it's because I am amazed at His grace, His love, His pleasure at gifting me with the realization of a little hope I had over 20 years ago.
I am amazed by God often. So often that any form of "Amazing Grace" brings me to tears. But today put me over the edge. It was Kate's first dance recital with Ballet Magnificat! There's very little in the performance of 7 seven year olds that should bring a grown woman to tears but there were several times when my composure was pushed beyond it's limits and it was all I could do to not look visibly emotional.
About 20 years ago, married only 5 years and with children far from my mind, I sat in a small Christian school auditorium in Fayetteville, NC watching a performance of a dance troupe I'd never heard of before. Ballet Magnificat! hailed from Jackson, MS and gained fame among the Christian community as a dance arts group that performed for two reasons only - to glorify God and bring people to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. It was a small group of young women performing and I adored the music that they chose. Some contemporary Christian (at that time) and some classical but always pulling me in to their message through beautiful movement. I sat there thinking, "If I have a daughter, I would love her to dance with this company."
What a silly thought though. I had no idea when we'd have children or if God would even bless us with a daughter and to be honest, I had no intention of ever living in Jackson, MS.
Children came... first a son, then another son, then a daughter... a very sick daughter who God took home to be with Him. We did move to Jackson, MS and while there we had another son and we decided to be happy with our sweet little, healthy family. Still, when we saw little girls dancing in church it was very hard to not weep. In our minds, our little girl would dance - it always reminded us that God was raising our daughter, not us.
Then, to our surprise, we were blessed with another daughter. By the time she was three she was dancing with Doxa Dance Company in West Virginia. Terri Stutler, her teacher went every other year to Ballet Magnificat! for classes. WOW, I remembered all those years ago watching that performance. Isn't God weird? In a good way, I mean. She danced for two years before we found out we were moving... back to Jackson, MS.
She sat out a year from dancing. She wasn't sure she wanted to dance under anyone else but after seeing DVD's of "The Christmas Dream" performances of Ballet Magnificat! she decided it was time to get back in the game.
Less than one year later, I sat in an audience of hundreds watching my daughter fulfill MY dream. But really, it wasn't she that fulfilled it - it was God. Oh how true that He cares about the smallest of hopes and dreams. So now, we watch little girls dance to music that worships our Lord but we don't cry because our second daughter is dancing with them. Well, that's not true, I cry but it's because I am amazed at His grace, His love, His pleasure at gifting me with the realization of a little hope I had over 20 years ago.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Would I?
So, I'm reading Trial and Triumph (stories from church history) by Richard M Hannula during my quiet time. It's not all I read, obviously, but it's a great end to my time of scripture reading and prayer and by reading one chapter at a time I am able to get the whole book read in a couple of months. Seventeen years ago, that last sentence would have made me cry. Taking several months to read a book sounds awful. How could I have let my life get so busy? Kids. 'Nuf said.
It's been this book that I think may have exacerbated my little "funk" for the past 6 weeks that I have talked about in a couple previous blog postings. This book begins with the story of Polycarp (69-155 AD) winds through the Middle Ages, the Reformation, and into Modern Times with the closing story of Richard Wurmbrand, the founder of Voice of the Martyrs. From the first to the last these men and women of Christ found themselves tortured day and night for one thing and one thing only, loving Christ with all their heart, mind, and soul.
Day in and day out these men and women were beaten within minutes of their deaths but kept alive and in severe pain and encouraged to renounce their commitment to Christ. I use that word carefully - commitment - we have no idea of the true meaning of the word. Not all of these martyrs were older adults with years of experience seeing God's hand move in their lives and thus building the faith of a mountain. No, many were young, some no older than my own son Drew who although I think has a stronger spiritual foundation than most his age, I wonder if he's seen enough of God to enable him to stand against any "power or principality".
The question really is, could I? I have spent a lot of time thinking about it. Of course, here I am in what is currently a country that allows the freedom of worship. Certainly, there is a chance of getting teased or heckled or maybe on a really bad day, getting spit at but unlike in most countries in this world, my life isn't on the line because of Who I trust in. So it's relatively easy to say "Absolutely, they could burn me at the stake like they did Polycarp or they could imprison me and beat me for years like they did Richard Wurmbrand but I'd not recant, no way!" But really? Would I be as brave as I'd like to believe I would be? I don't know. And those three words bring me to tears and almost to nausea. What I think is true for all of us is this - the Holy Spirit is powerful in those of us who call on the name of Christ. It's the Holy Spirit that will lead me to say, like Polycarp said to his captors:
It's been this book that I think may have exacerbated my little "funk" for the past 6 weeks that I have talked about in a couple previous blog postings. This book begins with the story of Polycarp (69-155 AD) winds through the Middle Ages, the Reformation, and into Modern Times with the closing story of Richard Wurmbrand, the founder of Voice of the Martyrs. From the first to the last these men and women of Christ found themselves tortured day and night for one thing and one thing only, loving Christ with all their heart, mind, and soul.
Day in and day out these men and women were beaten within minutes of their deaths but kept alive and in severe pain and encouraged to renounce their commitment to Christ. I use that word carefully - commitment - we have no idea of the true meaning of the word. Not all of these martyrs were older adults with years of experience seeing God's hand move in their lives and thus building the faith of a mountain. No, many were young, some no older than my own son Drew who although I think has a stronger spiritual foundation than most his age, I wonder if he's seen enough of God to enable him to stand against any "power or principality".
The question really is, could I? I have spent a lot of time thinking about it. Of course, here I am in what is currently a country that allows the freedom of worship. Certainly, there is a chance of getting teased or heckled or maybe on a really bad day, getting spit at but unlike in most countries in this world, my life isn't on the line because of Who I trust in. So it's relatively easy to say "Absolutely, they could burn me at the stake like they did Polycarp or they could imprison me and beat me for years like they did Richard Wurmbrand but I'd not recant, no way!" But really? Would I be as brave as I'd like to believe I would be? I don't know. And those three words bring me to tears and almost to nausea. What I think is true for all of us is this - the Holy Spirit is powerful in those of us who call on the name of Christ. It's the Holy Spirit that will lead me to say, like Polycarp said to his captors:
You threaten me with fire that burns for a little while
then goes out. But you are ignorant of the fire of
eternal punishment which is prepared for the
ungodly. Why do you wait? Come and do what
you want with me?
And then, once the wood and straw was doused with oil and the torch was being carried toward him, he lifted his head toward heaven and said:
Oh Lord God Almighty, the Father of your beloved Son,
Jesus Christ, through Whom we have received the
knowledge of You: I bless You for granting me
the honor of this day and hour that I might be
numbered among the martyrs. You are the
faithful and true God. To You be glory both now
and for the ages to come. Amen.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Convicting Innocence...
I began this post close to the Easter holiday. I wish I would have posted it. This was the beginning of what grew into a 6 week funk for me and had I posted this, it would have been in my face to remind me of what I needed to remember for the last several weeks. I rarely like to come to terms with my disappointments, mostly because I don't like to admit I have them. After all, look at my life... I live in America to begin with and the rest is just icing on the cake. Of course the most delicious of all is that I've been adopted by the King so who could look at any part of a life like that and see any disappointments? And yet, I'm guilty of it and find myself using that term to describe circumstances in my life lately far too often. Maybe that word, disappointment, should be stricken from my vocabulary as another word is that you will read about here:
I've gained a new understanding about what Jesus said to the rich man when he wanted to go back to earth to warn his siblings about hell. .... I say that because I tried to clear my name the other day and it was a big mistake. I generally don't believe in defending myself because I've felt for many years that my history, my behavior, my words should be all the defense that I need. I even think this way about my kids. Last year Sam was accused of defacing property. I about fell out of my chair laughing. The truth is that had he been accused of kissing a girl I'd have totally believed that - but defacing property, come on! There is no way. I know what my kids are capable of. I am honest about the faults of my children and have rarely if ever shouted "Not my kid!" but I know what their issues are and defacing property is not one of Sam's.
I should have followed my own rules. When I break my own rules I shouldn't be surprised by how things fall apart. I had just had enough of being some one's scapegoat and felt that there was a chance that this particular issue could have damaged my reputation and possibly affected what some people thought of MJF as well. But I learned some valuable lessons from this experience and had other truths validated:
The biggest thing I learned is that ultimately I have to trust God to reveal truth to other people. He will orchestrate situations that cause the guilty to get punished. He promised that in His word and I don't need to doubt it now. I only get in His way and it's my job to just step back and watch.
I realized that in the end, those who I care about the most will either not believe what they hear or they will come to me with questions. Even I am smart enough to realize when people are being falsely accused. I've often said to others "That doesn't sound like something "?" would say or do. I wonder if your facts are wrong?" If I think that why wouldn't others think that as well regarding me? Once again I have to trust God to work in the hearts and minds of my friends.
As I wrote this I realized that this is a story of Christianity in a small way. I can in no way believe that I have been persecuted and treated in the same wretched way that Christ was but we are, at this time, celebrating the crucifixion of an innocent man... an innocent God/man. He always did the right thing - always. He rarely defended Himself but just spoke truth about who He was and who God was. In the end, He trusted His Father through the Holy Spirit and His friends to tell others about Him so the TRUTH could vindicate Him and so other's would believe in Him. It's times like these that bring me comfort and make me realize that Christ is not unaware of my negative experiences and that He can turn those into positive ones even if it's just by teaching me a lesson. It also reminds me why I hate the word FAIR and why I don't allow my kids to use that word and why I need to stop allowing that word even in my head. The punishment of the innocent is never fair but His definition is probably a bit different than ours.
I've gained a new understanding about what Jesus said to the rich man when he wanted to go back to earth to warn his siblings about hell. .... I say that because I tried to clear my name the other day and it was a big mistake. I generally don't believe in defending myself because I've felt for many years that my history, my behavior, my words should be all the defense that I need. I even think this way about my kids. Last year Sam was accused of defacing property. I about fell out of my chair laughing. The truth is that had he been accused of kissing a girl I'd have totally believed that - but defacing property, come on! There is no way. I know what my kids are capable of. I am honest about the faults of my children and have rarely if ever shouted "Not my kid!" but I know what their issues are and defacing property is not one of Sam's.
I should have followed my own rules. When I break my own rules I shouldn't be surprised by how things fall apart. I had just had enough of being some one's scapegoat and felt that there was a chance that this particular issue could have damaged my reputation and possibly affected what some people thought of MJF as well. But I learned some valuable lessons from this experience and had other truths validated:
The biggest thing I learned is that ultimately I have to trust God to reveal truth to other people. He will orchestrate situations that cause the guilty to get punished. He promised that in His word and I don't need to doubt it now. I only get in His way and it's my job to just step back and watch.
I realized that in the end, those who I care about the most will either not believe what they hear or they will come to me with questions. Even I am smart enough to realize when people are being falsely accused. I've often said to others "That doesn't sound like something "?" would say or do. I wonder if your facts are wrong?" If I think that why wouldn't others think that as well regarding me? Once again I have to trust God to work in the hearts and minds of my friends.
As I wrote this I realized that this is a story of Christianity in a small way. I can in no way believe that I have been persecuted and treated in the same wretched way that Christ was but we are, at this time, celebrating the crucifixion of an innocent man... an innocent God/man. He always did the right thing - always. He rarely defended Himself but just spoke truth about who He was and who God was. In the end, He trusted His Father through the Holy Spirit and His friends to tell others about Him so the TRUTH could vindicate Him and so other's would believe in Him. It's times like these that bring me comfort and make me realize that Christ is not unaware of my negative experiences and that He can turn those into positive ones even if it's just by teaching me a lesson. It also reminds me why I hate the word FAIR and why I don't allow my kids to use that word and why I need to stop allowing that word even in my head. The punishment of the innocent is never fair but His definition is probably a bit different than ours.
I've Become My Mother...
Yes, it's true what the title says. I can't decide if I'm glad about that or not. After all, I adore my mom. And she spent most of her adult life sacrificing in many ways for my brother Jimmy and I. I love to spend time with her when we visit and I love when she comes to my home. I get to ask her suggestions on decorating and she gets to see me in my element. We both love hanging out together even though the definition of that changes each visit. She's aging, just like I am, and our time together has to adjust to allow for that.
I remember how literally devastated I was when a few years after MJF and I were married she came to visit. I was so happy to see her I wrapped my arms around her neck and as I leaned away from her and saw her shoes and then her purse I declared "Mom, I love your shoes and purse!" and no sooner did I utter those words when I was crushed... HER tastes hadn't changed, MINE had... I felt that was the beginning of the end for me.
Once I got over that shock I vowed to be my own person. I thought about all the things I loved about how she mothered me and what I wanted to pass down to my kids. I wasn't raised in a Christian home but none-the-less there were basic truths that were part of my upbringing that my parents knew I'd appreciate when I was a parent. They were right because truth is truth regardless of your age. I have held on to some of those things especially the work ethic that both my parents instilled in Jimmy and I and I am thankful for that daily as I see how rare that is today. But there were things that I didn't want to bring into my mothering. Thinking back on my senior prom made the vast differences jump out at me.
I went to a small private school for my senior year. We had just moved to the area and my parents thought that might make my transition smoother if I was able to go there instead of the public school. They thought I'd make friends faster there which would be nice because I was a senior. And they were right, by the end of my senior year I had enough friends that I felt like having the "after-prom" party at my house was a good idea. It was at a time when many were worried about the safety of the kids from midnight until 6 am and I thought that at my house there could be some control. We had a big, beautiful home and with the furniture pushed aside on both floors it'd be a nice place to celebrate.
And celebrate we did. Without any thought my mom went to the local liquor store and got 2 kegs of beer. Of course, like a responsible parent she took everyone's car keys as they walked into the door. And then, in order to leave, they had to return to her up in her bedroom reading, to get them back - not all got them back. Honestly, I cannot believe we really did this. Not just because as a Christian it wouldn't dawn on me for one second to allow alcohol at one of my kid's parties but the fact that it was flat out illegal. I am not sure that that truth was realized by us for one minute. If it did cross her mind, she never let me in on her thoughts but I think we were totally oblivious to it.
It ended up being a good party. My mom, to this day, expresses her amazement that there wasn't a stain on the carpet anywhere when the kids left. Except I wouldn't agree. I think that a lot of kids left with stains. It was true that more kids ended up in my mom's room talking the night away with her than were anywhere else in our home, but in spite of how cool they thought my mom was - they should have realized there was something terribly wrong that night. Why didn't either of us realize that it was wrong to have that beer there?
I often ask myself that question. Almost 30 years later, that behavior haunts me. Isn't that bizarre? I wonder why I even remember that or think about it, but it's pretty true to my character to be concerned with what impression I leave on people. I have friends who think I obsess too much over that but my thinking is that the only way to get credibility is to have integrity.
So, I'm sitting in MY bedroom tonight at almost 1:30 in the morning but the difference is that I only have 4 prom-goers in my living room watching Slum-dog Millionaire and drinking Dr. Pepper and bottled water. They won't stay to watch the sun rise and as they drive home they will pray and thank God for a fun and safe night. And hopefully they will thank Him for Sam's "not so cool" mom who loved them enough to provide her home for them to hang out in and loaded them up on junk food and soda... and that is all.
I remember how literally devastated I was when a few years after MJF and I were married she came to visit. I was so happy to see her I wrapped my arms around her neck and as I leaned away from her and saw her shoes and then her purse I declared "Mom, I love your shoes and purse!" and no sooner did I utter those words when I was crushed... HER tastes hadn't changed, MINE had... I felt that was the beginning of the end for me.
Once I got over that shock I vowed to be my own person. I thought about all the things I loved about how she mothered me and what I wanted to pass down to my kids. I wasn't raised in a Christian home but none-the-less there were basic truths that were part of my upbringing that my parents knew I'd appreciate when I was a parent. They were right because truth is truth regardless of your age. I have held on to some of those things especially the work ethic that both my parents instilled in Jimmy and I and I am thankful for that daily as I see how rare that is today. But there were things that I didn't want to bring into my mothering. Thinking back on my senior prom made the vast differences jump out at me.
I went to a small private school for my senior year. We had just moved to the area and my parents thought that might make my transition smoother if I was able to go there instead of the public school. They thought I'd make friends faster there which would be nice because I was a senior. And they were right, by the end of my senior year I had enough friends that I felt like having the "after-prom" party at my house was a good idea. It was at a time when many were worried about the safety of the kids from midnight until 6 am and I thought that at my house there could be some control. We had a big, beautiful home and with the furniture pushed aside on both floors it'd be a nice place to celebrate.
And celebrate we did. Without any thought my mom went to the local liquor store and got 2 kegs of beer. Of course, like a responsible parent she took everyone's car keys as they walked into the door. And then, in order to leave, they had to return to her up in her bedroom reading, to get them back - not all got them back. Honestly, I cannot believe we really did this. Not just because as a Christian it wouldn't dawn on me for one second to allow alcohol at one of my kid's parties but the fact that it was flat out illegal. I am not sure that that truth was realized by us for one minute. If it did cross her mind, she never let me in on her thoughts but I think we were totally oblivious to it.
It ended up being a good party. My mom, to this day, expresses her amazement that there wasn't a stain on the carpet anywhere when the kids left. Except I wouldn't agree. I think that a lot of kids left with stains. It was true that more kids ended up in my mom's room talking the night away with her than were anywhere else in our home, but in spite of how cool they thought my mom was - they should have realized there was something terribly wrong that night. Why didn't either of us realize that it was wrong to have that beer there?
I often ask myself that question. Almost 30 years later, that behavior haunts me. Isn't that bizarre? I wonder why I even remember that or think about it, but it's pretty true to my character to be concerned with what impression I leave on people. I have friends who think I obsess too much over that but my thinking is that the only way to get credibility is to have integrity.
So, I'm sitting in MY bedroom tonight at almost 1:30 in the morning but the difference is that I only have 4 prom-goers in my living room watching Slum-dog Millionaire and drinking Dr. Pepper and bottled water. They won't stay to watch the sun rise and as they drive home they will pray and thank God for a fun and safe night. And hopefully they will thank Him for Sam's "not so cool" mom who loved them enough to provide her home for them to hang out in and loaded them up on junk food and soda... and that is all.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Have I got a deal for you!
God amazes me... I know, MJF hates it when I say stuff like that - it's all so simplistic. Of course He amazes me, He's God. But there are times in any given day that He does something that doesn't matter to anyone else but me and if He didn't do it, well, it really wouldn't change my life in any measurable way. It's the fact that He does do those little things, for me. My goodness why, after all, I am nothing. But then again, to Him I am everything because, after all, His Son did die for ME.
Let me elaborate. I had a very hectic day. Wednesdays are full every week but this week even more so because it's Kate's birthday. So I had to leave early from the house to get the cupcakes to take to her class at lunch. Then I had to leave my Precept study early to get to her lunch period to eat with her and pass out the cupcakes. Then I had to go early to my library duties so that I could leave early from my library duties so I could go to the store and get some balloons to put out front before she got home. When I got home from my library duties, before I went for the balloons, lo and behold my 19 year old had just gotten up - yes, I know, it was after noon and that's another story. The begging in his eyes told me everything so off we went to MacAlisters because, frankly, where else would we go for lunch?
I had time. I figured if I left for Kroger at 1:55 then I could get her balloons and be home before they (Kate and Josh) got home from school. It was a beautiful day and they rode their bikes. So, right on time I went to the floral dept and discussed with the girl there what I wanted. While she was filling my balloons we got to talking and realized that we were both Christians and we both had a large family and had kids about the same age. We were encouraging each other and sharing fun stories and I was desperately tracking the time and realizing all my planning was going down the drain as I continued to talk. The truth was that I had to go to make MY plans work out. And with proms coming up she alone had 120 arrangements to make TODAY! She didn't need to be talking to me because SHE had her own plans.
But, obviously, God's plans for us were different. It was clear that she needed to be refreshed and I was glad to do it. And I needed to be reminded, as I shared about my kids with her, how wonderful my kids are. So as I glanced at my watch while I was fighting a sprint to my car I just asked God to allow me to make it home before the kids did because I SO wanted to have those balloons there for Kate to be surprised by.
The truth is - if I got home after they did it wouldn't matter a bit. BUT, I pulled into the subdivision and there were no children anywhere. I drove into my driveway, pulled into the garage, pulled out the balloons and tied them around the mailbox. I looked around and still, no kids. As I leaned against the mailbox I marveled that He even cared. I guess I knew He did or I wouldn't have even asked but what I do know is that He doesn't have to care. I also know that sometimes He doesn't work things out the way I'd like.
In the end I love knowing that I don't have to live this life all by myself. He loves me enough to let me get the balloons up before Kate got home. He loves me enough to let me go through a big hassle because I told someone something I shouldn't have even though it was meant with the best of intentions. He loves me enough to allow my daughter to die in order to show me how powerful He is in my life if I will let Him be. He loves me enough to adopt all of my children so I can rejoice in knowing that no matter what else He allows to happen in my life, we will all be together in eternity. For a woman who loves being wrapped up in security, I couldn't ask for a better deal.
Let me elaborate. I had a very hectic day. Wednesdays are full every week but this week even more so because it's Kate's birthday. So I had to leave early from the house to get the cupcakes to take to her class at lunch. Then I had to leave my Precept study early to get to her lunch period to eat with her and pass out the cupcakes. Then I had to go early to my library duties so that I could leave early from my library duties so I could go to the store and get some balloons to put out front before she got home. When I got home from my library duties, before I went for the balloons, lo and behold my 19 year old had just gotten up - yes, I know, it was after noon and that's another story. The begging in his eyes told me everything so off we went to MacAlisters because, frankly, where else would we go for lunch?
I had time. I figured if I left for Kroger at 1:55 then I could get her balloons and be home before they (Kate and Josh) got home from school. It was a beautiful day and they rode their bikes. So, right on time I went to the floral dept and discussed with the girl there what I wanted. While she was filling my balloons we got to talking and realized that we were both Christians and we both had a large family and had kids about the same age. We were encouraging each other and sharing fun stories and I was desperately tracking the time and realizing all my planning was going down the drain as I continued to talk. The truth was that I had to go to make MY plans work out. And with proms coming up she alone had 120 arrangements to make TODAY! She didn't need to be talking to me because SHE had her own plans.
But, obviously, God's plans for us were different. It was clear that she needed to be refreshed and I was glad to do it. And I needed to be reminded, as I shared about my kids with her, how wonderful my kids are. So as I glanced at my watch while I was fighting a sprint to my car I just asked God to allow me to make it home before the kids did because I SO wanted to have those balloons there for Kate to be surprised by.
The truth is - if I got home after they did it wouldn't matter a bit. BUT, I pulled into the subdivision and there were no children anywhere. I drove into my driveway, pulled into the garage, pulled out the balloons and tied them around the mailbox. I looked around and still, no kids. As I leaned against the mailbox I marveled that He even cared. I guess I knew He did or I wouldn't have even asked but what I do know is that He doesn't have to care. I also know that sometimes He doesn't work things out the way I'd like.
In the end I love knowing that I don't have to live this life all by myself. He loves me enough to let me get the balloons up before Kate got home. He loves me enough to let me go through a big hassle because I told someone something I shouldn't have even though it was meant with the best of intentions. He loves me enough to allow my daughter to die in order to show me how powerful He is in my life if I will let Him be. He loves me enough to adopt all of my children so I can rejoice in knowing that no matter what else He allows to happen in my life, we will all be together in eternity. For a woman who loves being wrapped up in security, I couldn't ask for a better deal.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
46 Candles
I turned 46 on March 1st. I really can't believe it. To be honest I am not sure how this happened. If I close my eyes I can remember how horrible I felt turning 20. I was no longer a teenager and couldn't fall back on that anymore to explain my immature behavior (although at that time I would never have admitted that I had any) but I wasn't 21 and therefore was still not old enough to be considered an adult.
Only 6 months after I turned 20 I got married. Seven years later I began having kids. Just last August MJF and I celebrated our 25th anniversary. And now, I'm 46. WOW. Thankfully I can say I've learned a lot. I've become a better wife, a better mom, a better woman, most importantly a better disciple of Christ. I've been thinking this week on some of those exact roles I just mentioned and how my behavior in those roles have changed over the years.
I've been, since adulthood, a very black and white person. I wouldn't describe myself as legalistic but I find security and comfort in rules and guidelines. I have no desire to be a leader but if forced to, I will acquiesce and become one (although that still seems like following to me). I dread disappointing anyone but I won't compromise the truth in any form to please anyone. And that last bit about me is what I've been reflecting on most this week. I've actually become more determined to hold firm to The Truth than ever before. I am not sure that can be said about most people as they age. Honestly, I can say, I understand that.
The more experiences that I have, the harder it is to remain so black and white about everything. I know many people that as they age, as their experiences take them from valleys to hilltops and back again, say that there is more gray but I don't agree. I believe that although gray exists I have to be careful that I don't mistake compassion and understanding and love for those that matter the most to me for lies (for lack of a better term). It's not that I would ever set out to lie to anyone about anything but there's a big difference between telling a friend that she doesn't look fat in a dress that she absolutely does look fat in and telling someone that her child is just a little "challenge" when he's got serious discipline problems and she needs to get to work on clearing those up.
Of course we all have to have earned a place in any relationship to offer truth up to anyone but then, maybe not. The older I get the more frantic I get when I realize that pastors and lay people alike are "taking their time" sharing the truth of what expectations there are of us as believers. We, for some reason, don't want to step on toes or turn someone against us or make someone upset or worse, we don't want them to go to another church. It's like throwing a life preserver to a drowning man but leaving the attached rope untouched so that although he floats and avoids drowning he's left to wander in the sea (as the sharks begin to circle) without help to reach solid ground. Whatever the reason this is dangerous territory that church leaders are treading on. The truth is that everyone wants to see people "saved" but for some reason few want to pull the line that's attached to the life preserver.
Few would argue with me that while building their child's first bike, it's best to read the instructions carefully. If something isn't put together in the way the manufacturer intended there is a good chance the child would be injured, in some cases, severely. In the same way, if we get all excited about a visitor "walking an isle" or someone we meet praying to receive Christ but fail to disciple that person honestly about changing their behavior to become more Christlike, we run the risk of allowing that person to believe they can come to Christ without repenting of sins that they might not even realize are sins at all. What's worse, as a church body, we run the risk of seeing our church become exactly what Paul was disgusted about in the church at Corinth. It seemed that he was the only one brave enough to be honest with the church body there. By the time he wrote his second letter and referring to his 3rd visit, he acknowledged that some who were living immoral lives had repented but that there were still some who were reluctant to do so. Why, I couldn't tell you but none of them could claim they were ignorant of God's expectations of them as believers. Paul told them that they could choose to do what was right and pleasing to God and he'd come in grace and peace. If they chose to rebel, he's going to arrive with a nightstick (Ok, so he didn't say nightstick - but you know what I mean). I find it hard to believe that Paul's threats weren't all Paul's idea. I am pretty sure that whether Paul shows up or not we are in trouble because God has his own nightstick. He won't let his church get mired in sin. One way or another He will cleanse the body.
That is why, for the most part, I am not bothered by people leaving our church. Some leave for pure logistics. They move to a new community and there is an excellent church that is far closer and participating in a community church is one reason why "there is a Baptist church on every corner". Others, for one reason or another, find something they don't like about what is currently going on. I have my own problems with that because your church should be your family and most of us wouldn't leave our blood family just because we didn't like what our sister wore to school or what poster our brother put up on the wall. Most wouldn't leave even if mom or dad created a rule or a requirement they didn't like. Most would stay because as long as Christ was honored they could adjust - after all - there were probably some things about them that their sister, brother, mom, or dad didn't like but put up with because they loved them. All that said, in the end it doesn't matter what I think. I have learned though that the grass is NEVER greener. But lastly, and mostly why I don't usually shed a tear over a church defection, is because there is a great chance that the defection is going to leave our church more pure. There's an element of spiritual immaturity that comes from defecting for reasons that are purely emotional and have no basis in scripture. It's not that I don't understand defection - we've done it - but we left a church, only once, for purely Biblical reasons - mostly because much of what was being preached was becoming more and more UNBiblical as each week progressed. We did confront the pastor in a mature and loving way but could make no headway, so we left. It was horrible, it was gut-wrenching and we fielded a lot of phone calls and let a lot of people down. But to not do that would have been sin on our part. I do understand being bummed about something here or something there but if we are praying for our church leaders and on our knees for our staff and pastor, shouldn't we be assuming with great confidence that the vision that is progressing is a Godly one? After all, God is the same yesterday, today, and forever but He certainly didn't perform in exactly the same way from one generation to the next. He used different people, different tasks, different approaches, all to reach the same goal... people recognizing who His Son was and to give their lives to glorify and honor Him. I find it amazing that people expect everything to stay the same in their church from year to year to year even they everyone around them is growing and changing and NOTHING else around them is staying the same. After all - stagnate anything breeds disease. We should all -regardless of age or history - be delighted to see our pastors and staff develop new ways to reach our communities for Christ. His truth doesn't change, it NEVER changes, but we do... constantly.
Which leads me back to being 46. I've never been more excited than I am now to see the man God is bringing to our church. We have been just under a year without a Senior Pastor and it's been harder than I had ever dreamed. I have been more disappointed in my fellow believers than I thought possible and disenchanted with the lack of trust, faith, and confidence that so many around me have displayed openly without hesitation. I have prayed for our Pastor Search Cmmt. I have prayed for the man that God wants for our church, therefore, I am assuming that should our cmmt follow God in His leading, the man that He blesses us with is exactly who we need to bring us through this time in our spiritual journey. Is he going to "move our cheese"? Absolutely, and I hope he does. It's his job to look at where we are and to encourage those who are doing a great job and to speak honestly to those who aren't. For anyone to expect less is only encouraging our church toward the Corinthian model. I want God to send us a Paul, nothing less will do.
So, although my life experience pulls me toward emotional responses, I must resist. Nothing good comes from that. I don't discount what I've experienced in anyway. Understanding people at their most vulnerable is important, but leading them down a path of destruction is unforgivable. Those of you who know me... know me... Those of you who don't, or have yet to spend quality time with me will be able to count on at least one thing. I will let you cry on my shoulder until the tears dry up and then I will tell you how to get yourself up off the couch and on toward living a life that is Christ honoring in spite of what brought the tears in the first place. Well, maybe I won't wait for the tears to dry up...
Only 6 months after I turned 20 I got married. Seven years later I began having kids. Just last August MJF and I celebrated our 25th anniversary. And now, I'm 46. WOW. Thankfully I can say I've learned a lot. I've become a better wife, a better mom, a better woman, most importantly a better disciple of Christ. I've been thinking this week on some of those exact roles I just mentioned and how my behavior in those roles have changed over the years.
I've been, since adulthood, a very black and white person. I wouldn't describe myself as legalistic but I find security and comfort in rules and guidelines. I have no desire to be a leader but if forced to, I will acquiesce and become one (although that still seems like following to me). I dread disappointing anyone but I won't compromise the truth in any form to please anyone. And that last bit about me is what I've been reflecting on most this week. I've actually become more determined to hold firm to The Truth than ever before. I am not sure that can be said about most people as they age. Honestly, I can say, I understand that.
The more experiences that I have, the harder it is to remain so black and white about everything. I know many people that as they age, as their experiences take them from valleys to hilltops and back again, say that there is more gray but I don't agree. I believe that although gray exists I have to be careful that I don't mistake compassion and understanding and love for those that matter the most to me for lies (for lack of a better term). It's not that I would ever set out to lie to anyone about anything but there's a big difference between telling a friend that she doesn't look fat in a dress that she absolutely does look fat in and telling someone that her child is just a little "challenge" when he's got serious discipline problems and she needs to get to work on clearing those up.
Of course we all have to have earned a place in any relationship to offer truth up to anyone but then, maybe not. The older I get the more frantic I get when I realize that pastors and lay people alike are "taking their time" sharing the truth of what expectations there are of us as believers. We, for some reason, don't want to step on toes or turn someone against us or make someone upset or worse, we don't want them to go to another church. It's like throwing a life preserver to a drowning man but leaving the attached rope untouched so that although he floats and avoids drowning he's left to wander in the sea (as the sharks begin to circle) without help to reach solid ground. Whatever the reason this is dangerous territory that church leaders are treading on. The truth is that everyone wants to see people "saved" but for some reason few want to pull the line that's attached to the life preserver.
Few would argue with me that while building their child's first bike, it's best to read the instructions carefully. If something isn't put together in the way the manufacturer intended there is a good chance the child would be injured, in some cases, severely. In the same way, if we get all excited about a visitor "walking an isle" or someone we meet praying to receive Christ but fail to disciple that person honestly about changing their behavior to become more Christlike, we run the risk of allowing that person to believe they can come to Christ without repenting of sins that they might not even realize are sins at all. What's worse, as a church body, we run the risk of seeing our church become exactly what Paul was disgusted about in the church at Corinth. It seemed that he was the only one brave enough to be honest with the church body there. By the time he wrote his second letter and referring to his 3rd visit, he acknowledged that some who were living immoral lives had repented but that there were still some who were reluctant to do so. Why, I couldn't tell you but none of them could claim they were ignorant of God's expectations of them as believers. Paul told them that they could choose to do what was right and pleasing to God and he'd come in grace and peace. If they chose to rebel, he's going to arrive with a nightstick (Ok, so he didn't say nightstick - but you know what I mean). I find it hard to believe that Paul's threats weren't all Paul's idea. I am pretty sure that whether Paul shows up or not we are in trouble because God has his own nightstick. He won't let his church get mired in sin. One way or another He will cleanse the body.
That is why, for the most part, I am not bothered by people leaving our church. Some leave for pure logistics. They move to a new community and there is an excellent church that is far closer and participating in a community church is one reason why "there is a Baptist church on every corner". Others, for one reason or another, find something they don't like about what is currently going on. I have my own problems with that because your church should be your family and most of us wouldn't leave our blood family just because we didn't like what our sister wore to school or what poster our brother put up on the wall. Most wouldn't leave even if mom or dad created a rule or a requirement they didn't like. Most would stay because as long as Christ was honored they could adjust - after all - there were probably some things about them that their sister, brother, mom, or dad didn't like but put up with because they loved them. All that said, in the end it doesn't matter what I think. I have learned though that the grass is NEVER greener. But lastly, and mostly why I don't usually shed a tear over a church defection, is because there is a great chance that the defection is going to leave our church more pure. There's an element of spiritual immaturity that comes from defecting for reasons that are purely emotional and have no basis in scripture. It's not that I don't understand defection - we've done it - but we left a church, only once, for purely Biblical reasons - mostly because much of what was being preached was becoming more and more UNBiblical as each week progressed. We did confront the pastor in a mature and loving way but could make no headway, so we left. It was horrible, it was gut-wrenching and we fielded a lot of phone calls and let a lot of people down. But to not do that would have been sin on our part. I do understand being bummed about something here or something there but if we are praying for our church leaders and on our knees for our staff and pastor, shouldn't we be assuming with great confidence that the vision that is progressing is a Godly one? After all, God is the same yesterday, today, and forever but He certainly didn't perform in exactly the same way from one generation to the next. He used different people, different tasks, different approaches, all to reach the same goal... people recognizing who His Son was and to give their lives to glorify and honor Him. I find it amazing that people expect everything to stay the same in their church from year to year to year even they everyone around them is growing and changing and NOTHING else around them is staying the same. After all - stagnate anything breeds disease. We should all -regardless of age or history - be delighted to see our pastors and staff develop new ways to reach our communities for Christ. His truth doesn't change, it NEVER changes, but we do... constantly.
Which leads me back to being 46. I've never been more excited than I am now to see the man God is bringing to our church. We have been just under a year without a Senior Pastor and it's been harder than I had ever dreamed. I have been more disappointed in my fellow believers than I thought possible and disenchanted with the lack of trust, faith, and confidence that so many around me have displayed openly without hesitation. I have prayed for our Pastor Search Cmmt. I have prayed for the man that God wants for our church, therefore, I am assuming that should our cmmt follow God in His leading, the man that He blesses us with is exactly who we need to bring us through this time in our spiritual journey. Is he going to "move our cheese"? Absolutely, and I hope he does. It's his job to look at where we are and to encourage those who are doing a great job and to speak honestly to those who aren't. For anyone to expect less is only encouraging our church toward the Corinthian model. I want God to send us a Paul, nothing less will do.
So, although my life experience pulls me toward emotional responses, I must resist. Nothing good comes from that. I don't discount what I've experienced in anyway. Understanding people at their most vulnerable is important, but leading them down a path of destruction is unforgivable. Those of you who know me... know me... Those of you who don't, or have yet to spend quality time with me will be able to count on at least one thing. I will let you cry on my shoulder until the tears dry up and then I will tell you how to get yourself up off the couch and on toward living a life that is Christ honoring in spite of what brought the tears in the first place. Well, maybe I won't wait for the tears to dry up...
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