Is Wealth a Actually a Curse?

In Sunday School we are studying Solomon, who really is a tragic hero (or maybe cautionary tale?) of the Bible. He had a lot to live up to in his father, King David, “a man after God’s own heart” (1 Samuel 13:14, Acts 13:22). In the beginning, there is such hope: Solomon is given the chance to ask God for anything and he asks God for wisdom - already a wise choice! No doubt a king needs wisdom almost more than anything! So God, as he does when someone asks for wisdom (James 1:5) gives it to him. Solomon, perhaps the wisest man in the Bible, or even all of history, writes several of the “wisdom books” of the Bible: Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes, and Proverbs. But then God does more, he gives Solomon wealth beyond imagining! So much so that the Queen of Sheba - a wealthy woman in her own right - is overwhelmed by his “wisdom and wealth”! (1 Kings 10:4-5)

A picture from our curriculum (The Gospel Project) of Solomon writing his Wisdom books

Sadly, though, the story takes a turn. Solomon strays from the Lord and starts worshiping other gods and His reign marks the end of the united nation of Israel. 

This is one of the hardest stories in the Bible for me. I look at Solomon and see so much hope and wisdom (and that was even before asking God for wisdom!). I wonder what went wrong. But I already know what went wrong and want to pretend that I don’t. Wealth. Wealth is where it all went wrong. 

There is no doubt that money corrupts and the love of money is the root of all evil (1 Timothy 6:10). You can see it running rampant in our society today, even among Christian leaders. We look at these pastors or speakers, who are gaining popularity and wealth, with so much hope. But then we are so disappointed when they fail or the truth they’ve been hiding comes out. But who is strong enough to carry the burden of wealth?

Ironically, Solomon himself seems to know that the pursuit of money and love of wealth can never satisfy. He even says in Ecclesiastes 5:10, “Whoever loves money never has enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income. This too is meaningless.” And this is just one of many verses from his wisdom books pertaining to wealth and greed. 

Some may say that Solomon’s downfall was his love of foreign women (or just women in general) and followed his lustful desires wherever they took him. But I would argue that wealth is what brought him there in the first place. Wealth leads to power, and power and wealth together lead to ruin and destruction. Again from 1 Timothy 6 (vs. 9, which immediately precedes the “love of money” verse quoted above), “Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction.”

So I ask myself, why did God do this to Solomon? Why give him so much wealth? I am sure most people who read this think “God was rewarding Solomon for asking for wisdom!” Indeed, even when I was a child, I remembering thinking, if God ever asks me what I want, I’ll say wisdom and hope he’ll give me wealth, too! Wealth looks like a blessing, but is it actually a curse?

This is a simplistic thought. Solomon’s sinful nature and lack of repentance led to his downfall. But wealth made it easier. It is something worth thinking about today and even asking ourselves. You see, when I said earlier that I didn’t want to acknowledge what I already knew, it’s because I see it in me as well. I likehaving money. I like buying, and shopping, and filling my home and heart with the clutter that money can buy. We treat this as a silly foible. But it should terrify us. Jesus said, “You cannot love both God and money.” (Matthew 6:24) And because of that, I am terrified. 

So I ask myself, and I’ll ask you, in our pursuit of wealth, are we pursuing something that will be a blessing or a curse? No one is strong enough to carry the “blessing” of wealth. So if you gain it, or have it, hold your hands open and ask him to take it and use it. And if you are pursuing it, stop. Pursue God instead. Don’t end up like Solomon and end up in ruin and destruction. Trust me, you are not strong enough to hold on to it yourself. I am not strong enough. Just look at Solomon, the wisest man in the world. 

“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.” 1 Timothy 6:17

Adding a note here at the bottom to address a few criticisms by my dear husband.

I perhaps did not emphasize that it is not wealth that is the root of all evil, but the love of wealth. The reason I didn’t distinguish these two is because I’m not sure they can be separated. I think it’s impossible to have wealth and not love it a just a little bit. This is what I see in myself (and maybe you’re a better person than I am, that’s fine) and this is what scares me. 

Next, he says, is that I’m asking people to do something that is logically inconsistent: if you love money, how can you hold your hands open and ask God to take it and use it? Well, he’s right, I should have said it this way: you can’t. You need Jesus to even get you to this place. And then you have to do it again every day until either you have victory in this area (which honestly you probably won’t, which is kinda the point of this post), or until you lose all your money, or until you die. But never give in to this struggle (or “logical inconsistency”) because then comes the ruin and destruction. 

And finally, it’s true, we don’t know exactly what led to Solomon’s destruction. The whole post is based on a supposition (hopefully one that doesn’t diminish the truth, though). But I think I’m right and it’s my blog. ☺️ 

Why doesn’t God just kill Satan?

“Why doesn’t God just kill Satan?”

It was another conversation in a car ride. It’s just inevitable. I put on music, I want to lose myself in my own thoughts, but the kids constantly drag me back to the now. And then drop questions on me like this.

“God, give me wisdom,” I think to myself. And I know he does. (James 1:5)

My five-year-old son is obsessed with superhero’s and the bad guys associated with them. In fact, I think there’s a small part of him that’s rooting for the snake in the Garden story! So when he asked this question, it wasn’t in a wistful “I-wish-God-would-just-finish-off-Satan-for-good” kinda way. It was a little more taunting, like “If God is so powerful, why doesn’t he just kill the bad guy?”

I understood this question. It’s one we all ask, isn’t it? Just maybe in a little more mature way: If God is so powerful and good, why is there pain? Why is there sin? Why do bad things happen to good people?

And believe me, I am not here to answer those questions! (Those are questions worth pondering, but I don’t think anyone has all the those answers. And that’s OK.)

By now, my daughter, the rule-follower, picked up the questions out of genuine curiosity and maybe concern. So I needed some sort of reply...

“Well, God will defeat Satan in the end,” I said, dropping some truth on them, while trying to stall for a good answer. “But in the meantime, if there was no sin in the world, there would be no way for us to choose God. Like in the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve knew and loved God, but they still had to choose every day not to eat the forbidden fruit. If they didn’t have that option, it wouldn’t have been a choice to obey God.”

Silence. 

“Do you know what I mean that we have to have a choice?”

Blank looks.

“OK, let’s say Audrey really likes a boy so she decides to make him a love potion. She gives him the love potion and he immediately falls in love with her. But it’s not real love, he didn’t really have a choice. It’s all because of the potion. Now Audrey, would you rather that person love you with the love potion or without?”

For a while there were just giggles and horrified looks at the thought of a boy liking her (or her liking a boy!), but finally she answered: “Without.”

“Why?” I asked. (Honestly this was the hardest part. I want to keep talking, to explain. But I was really trying to get them there on their own.)

“Because it’s not real if he’s had a potion. He doesn’t really have a choice to love me.”

“Exactly! So if God killed Satan and we lived with no sin, there would be no choice but to love and serve God! We would be more like robots than people with minds of our own.”

I think the conversation ended there, but my mind stayed on the topic for a while. I know that sin has consequences, and that is why there is so much pain in the world. But it is also amazing to me how God can even redeem sin and use it for his glory and our good. 

And it’s amazing to me that He shows up in these car rides, when I’m tired and even a little annoyed at all the questions. He still shows up, and the results are priceless.

Dear parents: Jesus is enough.

I wrote this letter for our church’s newsletter about a year ago because we were in need of teachers for our Sunday School classes. I reread it recently and realized these words need to be repeated over and over, so I thought I would post this here as well. It is a good reminder for myself as a Christian parent, too! And if you are part of a church body, consider volunteering in children’s ministry. I promise, you will be both blessed and a blessing.

I have had the privilege, in recent months, to teach our oldest class (grades 4-6) a few times, and what a unique and wonderful thing it is! I am always intimidated, because these kids know a lot. And they are smart! And honestly, I’m not that fun a teacher (it’s ok, I know what my strengths are!). So I’m always nervous. But when I leave, I am exhilarated! Because they already know a lot about the Bible and they are so smart, the discussions are deep and interesting! And that is why I call it a privilege. 

I found this article recently and it encouraged me so much, especially in regards to our older kids: 

“What every teen knows, however, is that the church is not cool. The good news is that the church does not have to be cool to be relevant. What the church has is Jesus, and he is enough. (Emphasis added) He is what differentiates the church from every other organization. He’s why the church matters. If the church matters because Jesus matters, then what youth ministries need more of are not entertaining activities but conversations about Jesus.” (Jen Bradbury, “Sticky faith: What keeps kids connected to church?”)

When I read that, I think my heart skipped a beat! That is the benefit of a small class for our preteens: we can have deep discussions. And we need teachers and a curriculum to direct those discussions to Jesus. And He is enough. 

One of the things I love about our current curriculum (The Gospel Project) is the weekly “Christ Connection”. Not only are we taking over three years to study the entire Bible, every week we bring it back to Christ. We have the curriculum part of the equation. 

Honestly, when I started writing this letter to you, I meant it only as an encouragement that we are doing what needs to be done. That you, as parents, are doing what needs to be done. You are teaching Jesus, and He is enough. But now I’m realizing we are still missing the second part of the equation: this class needs more teachers. Please pray about this and consider this unique and wonderful opportunity. 

Are you hungry right now?

“Are you hungry right now?” I asked.

“Yes, starving!” They both answered. 

We were driving home from delivering a meal to friends who were sick. They were used to the drill: rushing to get in the car, clad in PJs and slippers - or in summer, no shoes at all, bellies rumbling because we won’t eat our dinner until we get home. This is just something we do every month or so.

The fact that we do this so often makes me chuckle. I always end up in a bad mood, we are always rushed, the kids whine. I do not consider myself a good cook, so serving people with meals seems out of my wheelhouse. Yet we keep doing it, and that night it became an opportunity for good conversation.

“Mom, sometimes it feels like we are the only ones in the world who love Jesus,” my daughter said, in her usual hyperbolic and dramatic way. “I mean, us, the people at my school, and the people at our church are the only ones.”

I laughed. “That’s actually a lot of people!” But I could tell she needed more.

“The fact is, there are many people all around the world who love Jesus. But there are also many people who don’t.”

“Does it matter that they don’t? I mean, won’t Jesus still love them?”

Oh goodness, this is a lot to discuss when I’m in a bad mood and my own stomach is grumbling (the word is hangry).

“It matters in the end whether people believe in Jesus or not. He loves everyone, and it’s our responsibility to tell them that and show them with our lives how Jesus loves them. When you follow Jesus, you are supposed to think of how you can love and care for others, not just yourself. Sometimes that even means putting the needs of others before your own needs.”

“How do you do that?”

That’s when the brain wave came. We were literally doing just that. (These are the times I know God is giving me the words to say, and I can take no credit.) I asked them if they were hungry, knowing full well how hungry we all were. It was a dinner they both actually liked - a rare occasion indeed! And we were looking forward to getting home to dig in. But first, we had jumped in the car to deliver a meal to someone else. 

“That’s just one example of putting the needs of others in front of our own. We are hungry, but we brought a meal to someone else first. They felt loved, cared for, and seen. And that’s showing them the love of Jesus.”

And then we got home and ate. 

So I will continue to bring meals, rushing the kids to the car, so that they can see God’s love in action through me, through them, even through their rumbling bellies. And then we’ll come home and eat, knowing that God loves and provides for us, too. 

The Free Gift

Some of the little kids I get to teach at church on Sundays. I love them!

In my job, I get to teach many different age groups about Jesus. It’s pretty wonderful, actually. But it does come with a fair share of frustration. It’s one of the few places I feel completely free to share about Jesus! I guess I like to hope that when I’m sharing something I am passionate about and has been so life-changing, that I would have an appreciative and receptive audience, right?

Well, my audience are kids. So usually they are being silly, and not sitting down, and asking when snack is, and poking their friends, and taking off their shoes, and picking their nose. 

So I like to set up this scenario for them:

What if you did something really bad and your mom and dad found out about it? Even if you said you were sorry and genuinely felt bad, they might still give you a punishment, right? Like make you sit in time out, or go to your room, or take away TV or video games. But what if I knew what you did and knew that you’d be punished, but I loved you so much that I didn’t want you to have to take your punishment, so I decided to come over and take your punishment for you? I’d say, “Let me sit here in time out and you go back to playing.” Or “I’ll sit here in your room for you, so you can ride your bike.” What would you say to that? Would you be so happy? Would you say “thank you!”? Would you love me so much for what I did?

Usually at this point in the story, the kids are looking at me in wonder, fully engrossed, fingers out of noses, and then get so excited and yell and maybe even jump up and tell me how good that sounds and that’d be great and even about their last punishments that they wish that had happened for!

That’s when I can drop the lesson on them. “Well, that’s what Jesus did for us! The Bible says that the punishment for sinning is death [Romans 6:23] but even while we were still sinning, Jesus died for us! [Romans 5:8] He came to earth as a little baby and when he grew up, he died in our place. Everybody sins, but if you know Jesus, he takes our punishment for us. All you have to do is accept this amazing gift!”

In my experience, this story never fails.

That is until about 4th grade.

The last time I taught in 4th grade, I decided to try this hypothetical again. I really do think it’s helpful at any age (hey, it still helps me to understand and appreciate just a little bit of what happened on that cross). But the response I got was markedly different.

When I got to the end and asked my questions: What would you say to that? Would you be so happy? Would you say “thank you!”? Would you love me so much for what I did? The responses were surprisingly solemn. We went around the room and each child said something along the lines of “Well, that wouldn’t be fair. Even if you offered to do that, I’d still take the punishment because I’m the one who did something bad so I should take the punishment.”

Honestly, I was stunned. I asked myself what happens in a child’s brain between preschool and 4th grade. Even before I did a quick Google search, I had guessed the answer: the development of empathy and personal responsibility. The irony is that these are good things! We want our children to be empathetic and take personal responsibility! But these are also the things that get in the way of accepting the free gift that Jesus offers.

Those 4th graders that day were thinking about me, and realizing that they needed to take responsibility. It shouldn’t be me taking the punishment, it should be them!

This is one of the reasons (and there are others, I think) why I think we are called to be like little children. God wants us to accept His good gifts to us, and little children are ready and willing to do so. They completely understand why someone would love them so much, they would take their punishment for them. They cheer when someone even talks about taking their punishment for them. 

This is why being called to be like a little child as an adult is so important. We’ve already learned (hopefully!) empathy and personal responsibility, but we are marrying it with the whole-hearted acceptance of the free gift of grace. Honestly, it’s hard to do.

I have decided to amend the story next time I teach the older kids. I can start to work in the ideas of confession and repentance, as well, and talk about the new creations we are when we accept what Jesus offers. I’m thankful for their more mature minds and complex thinking process that can grasp more and more of what following Christ actually means (something we, as Christians, are called to do until the end) and that as children get older, we can engage them more fully on what we ourselves are learning.

But after teaching that 4th grade class that day, I have thought often about their reluctance to just accept. Most days, I think I can do it on my own. But what if I took a moment every morning and just accepted, holding my arms open in acceptance of this love pouring down on me? I don’t deserve it, but I also can’t live fully, abundantly, and in complete freedom without it. Lord Jesus, help me to be like a little child.

Lifter of my Head

This is a name for God that feels life-saving to me.

It is for those whose body and soul are bent over, who are trudging through the mire, with tear stained faces, who carry heavy burdens, who are world weary. Those who are dragging one foot in front of the other, not knowing to where, never looking up. 

And suddenly He appears. His very presence washes away the mud that surrounds feet. He gently puts his hand under my chin. He lifts my weary head. He looks into my tear-stained eyes. And finally, finally, hope fills my heart.

He looked at me with love. He drew me out of many waters. He delighted in me. Indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

And it all started when he lifted my head so I could keep my gaze on him. 

Psalm 3:3. Psalm 18:16, 19. Psalm 16:6.

Scars

Today we decided we love Audrey’s right eyebrow even more than the other one.

But it didn’t start that way. She was playing with make-up when all of a sudden she said, “I don’t like my eyebrow because of the bald spot from the scar.” This simple statement hit me in the gut. It was the first time I had heard her look in the mirror and state something she didn’t like about herself. I’m not saying it’s never happened, although I pray it hasn’t before, but it was the first time I had heard it. And then I said something that I truly believe was straight from God. “What? That eyebrow is my favorite because it tells a story! A story of heroism and bravery.” She looked at me like I was crazy so I explained: it’s the story of a little girl who got hurt and had to be sewn up, with needle and thread, who was so scared, but bravely let the doctors work to sew her eyebrow back together.

And then I showed her how she could fill it in with eyebrow pencil.

But you know what? She rubbed it off and said she liked it better without.

We talked about it several more times today and then she asked me what part of me told a story. And I said “what about my belly? It tells the best story!” And of course she knew I meant having my two precious babies.

She’s been long asleep now but I can’t stop thinking about it. What if we always looked at our scars like that? What if instead of despairing of how they mar our bodies and despising them, what if we saw them for the stories and the healing they represent? Because with each scar, there was healing. The bigger the scar, the bigger the healing. And that is something to be grateful for!

The Value of One

The photo above is an excerpt from the notes from my Bible study this past week, the words of which meant so much to me. We were studying the Parable of the Lost Sheep in Matthew 18:10-14 (which, coincidentally, is what I am basing my new children’s book on!) and discussing the great value that God puts on each one of His children.

I have spent most of my life wishing I could do something big and bold for God, feeling like I could do more, and feeling restless in my current situation, which felt too small and insignificant. But the older I get, the more I realize the great value that God puts on the life lived faithfully that may feel “small”; that this calling of mine, though it sometimes feels small and insignificant, is beautiful and valuable to Him.

We know that God’s economy is different than ours (the first shall be last, the least shall be greatest, etc.), and what He values looks very different than what the world values (and even sometimes what we Christians value). But the life lived “small” is incredibly valuable to God. In fact, in this parable, the Shepherd leaves the many - the big flock, the service to many, or what could stand for a big project or large ministry - and goes in search of the ONE.

I love the value God puts on the ONE. That means he values me, and you, and every baby, child, and adult. And even in addition to that, it means he values “the ministry of one” as my Bible study teacher said. It may feel small, but it isn’t to God. He’s calling us to be faithful, in the small and the big. And really, it usually is the small. It is clear that God can use the big - think Billy Graham - but most of us are called to live small lives, impacting the small circle of those around us. And that is beautiful, valuable, wonderful to God.

So I thank you, God, that you see this small life of mine, that you value the ONE, that you see and value me when I can only serve ONE. Thank you that you come as a whisper (1 Kings 19:12). In this world of “the bigger, the better”, that is not what you value. When you were asked who is the greatest, you called forth a child (Matt. 18:1-2). You are bigger; you are better; and that is enough for us. And I thank you for being that for me, for valuing this small, but not insignificant, life of mine, and for giving me contentment in it.

I pray that for you, too.

Yet Another Ode to October

Warm, cozy, cool and brisk

Fireplace, candles, snuggly blankets.

Foggy mornings, freezing nights

Sunshine bright on colorful trees.

Orange, yellow, brown, dry

Crackle, crisp, colorful pile.

 Boots, sweaters, vest and gloves

Hats and mittens crocheted with love.

Scarecrows, hay bales, tall corn maze

Smoky scent lingering in air

Pumpkins, gourds, apples, spices

Pie and cider, Thanksgiving feast

Ravens, cats, spooky ghosts

Costumes, Candy, candy corn

Anticipation, the One True Story

Merry, peace, joy, and love.

The Weirdness of Motherhood

Last night I had a not-too-unusual experience that perfectly encapsulates what a friend has recently called “the weirdness of motherhood”. I had never thought about how weird motherhood was until I heard that phrase and since then I’ve been recognizing it in everything! 

At around 4am my son came to me crying about a spider in his bed. Agreeing with him that yes, that is indeed terrifying, but reassuring him that it was a dream, I encouraged him to go back to bed. (Actually it was more like “huh? Dream! Bed!”) But instead, he climbed into bed with us, and I was too tired to argue. 

What happened next is a perfect example of the weirdness of motherhood. Let me paint you a picture. 

Not shown in this little cartoon is that at one point, I was actually missing my daughter and wishing she would join us in the bed! And literally the next second - almost simultaneously even! - I was wishing my son was back in his bed and I could go to sleep. It’s like wanting to be thin and wanting to eat an entire tray of brownies at the same time! (Another oxymoron in my life.)

Whatever stage of motherhood we are in, we want them gone and we want them back. We want snuggles and we want our own space. We want to hold them forever, but we are training them to leave. So I suppose in the end, we have to concentrate on the good stuff and roll with the bad. I’m thankful that my son kept me up last night and I could capture a beautiful sleeping boy picture. But I’m also thankful he doesn’t do that most nights. I guess that’s the key: being thankful whatever the circumstances. 

1 Thessalonians 5:18

Being Brave

“Boys are braver than girls,” my daughter announced one afternoon.

I don’t remember what I was doing, but I know my head snapped up, ready for a fight! Now, I am not a hard-core feminist but I will fight for my gender when necessary, especially when it comes to my daughter.

“Why do you say that?” I asked, coolly, as if I was only slightly interested. (Sometimes I have to reign in my reactions, so I don’t scare her away.)

“They just like to climb high and jump off things and touch bugs and stuff like that,” she said.

“And that makes them braver?” I asked. Again, I was super-cool about it.

“Well, I’m too afraid to do those things and they aren’t!”

I could see her logic, because it seems to me it’s the logic that most people use when describing brave: If I’m too afraid of something, and you do it, then you must be braver than me.

But I’m here to say FALSE.

Being brave is highly subjective. What is brave for one person might not be brave for another! The hard part about being brave is facing our fears. There is no brave without some kind of fear.

Brave is speaking up when you are terrified to speak in public.

Brave is telling your story even when you feel embarrassed by it.

Brave is continuing to love someone who has hurt you in the past and you are worried it will happen again.

Brave is breaking up with someone who is wrong for you, even though you’re afraid of being alone.

Brave is opening your home to strangers, even though you fear the unknown.

I don’t want to take away from people who speak in public and are not terrified, who tell their story and are not embarrassed, who love someone else but have never been hurt by them, who break up with the wrong person for them but don’t fear loneliness, who are hospitable to strangers but are not worried about what they will bring. Those are all good things. They just are not brave.

Brave does not come easy, so let’s not water down its meaning by crediting it to those people who do not have the accompanying fear.

So as I looked at my daughter that afternoon, I wanted to explain all this to her and somehow show her that sometimes her mom can even be brave! But there’s a problem: in order to reveal the brave, I also have to reveal the fear and insecurity behind the brave. And that’s the hard part. How do I show my daughter that I am afraid but I am doing it anyway, without also passing on that fear to her?

As I think about the brave people that I know and want to emulate, I am struck by the fact that the people who are bravest are also the people who have been the most fearful and have had to overcome it.

But I want to be careful about passing on my fears to my daughter. So as I endeavor to exhibit bravery to her, I want to only show her those fears that I have already faced. (And then someday I can admit that many of my fears, I never could face, so maybe I’m really not that brave at all.)

So we just take each moment as it comes, each little act of bravery. And take advantage of these times when we can just talk - and I can just listen without going on a diatribe.

“Those boys aren’t braver,” I explained. “They just aren’t afraid of the same things you are! You can’t be brave if you’re not a little afraid first.”

And we left it at that. For now.

Reading, Watching, Doing, Learning - January Edition

This post begins a series of monthly posts to both fulfill my resolution of posting monthly, as well as serving as a writing exercise. 

What I’m Reading: 

• Crossroads of Twilight, Wheel of Time, book 10 (Robert Jordan)
  This is an epic fantasy series of 14 books, each about 1000 pages. But this book has been a low point and I’ve been “in the middle of it” for almost a year. I love this series and am totally invested in finishing it at this point, though!

• Come Rain or Come Shine, Mitford series, book 13 (Jan Karon)
  I’ll be honest, at this point in the series, I am listening on Audible and let myself fall asleep to it every night. I don’t miss much in this slow-moving book, but it’s sweet enough to make me think happy thoughts as I drift off to dreamland!

• The Songs of Jesus (Tim Keller)
  The devotional I’m currently using. Very brief devotions based on a few verses in the Psalms. I wish each one were more in depth, but conversely, I picked it because they are short enough for me to actually get done every day!

What I’m Watching: 

• Monk, Amazon Prime
  I’m embarrassed to admit this is not my first time re-watching the series. But it’s like comfort food to me, and I can work/crochet/fold laundry while it’s on in the background.

• The Crown, season 2, Netflix
  This is a show that I can watch with Ryan. He likes the history. I like the clothes. Win-win.

• Superstore, season 2, Hulu
  Another show to watch with Ryan. Usually he doesn’t like sitcoms (and they are my bread and butter) but at this one, we both literally LOL.

What I’m Doing: 

• Crochet hearts
  It’s that time of year when I’m winding down with the hats and looking for other crochet projects. Tiny crochet hearts take so little time to make and I just love to put them everywhere!

• Kids’ birthday gifts
  I usually try to include a handmade item for my children’s birthdays, and since their birthdays are only two weeks apart, this keeps me pretty busy in January. I am finishing a train flannel blanket for my 3yo son, and a My Little Pony pillow for my 6yo daughter.

What I’m Learning: 

• We are all broken, even if we think we have it all together. Sometimes I am horrified and embarrassed by my brokenness. Sometimes I’m proud of myself because I think I have it all together. But really I should be embarrassed when I think I have it all together, because it’s much better when I remember I’m broken. Being broken is beautiful: it’s when God can really shine through.

• I wish I could put what I’m learning into a simple bullet point that completely defines exactly what I’m thinking, but really it’s more of an amorphous blur of thoughts that keep changing. I guess that’s why I’m doing this exercise.

Goals for the month:

• Finish 3 more books.

• Finish editing my next children’s story.

 Poetry Practice:

So begins, in cold
winter, a year of goals to
blossom and bear fruit.

My Prayers for Las Vegas

This is my view as I sit cross-legged and arms outstretched in prayer for a city that has been host to such a terrible atrocity. And I am struck that two days ago, in a hotel less than a mile away, another looked down on this city, and, so filled with evil was he, that he took the lives of so many, including his own. And here I am, little old me, looking down on this city and trying to combat the darkness in my own way.

We planned this trip months ago when we learned that my husband’s promotion required him to attend a series of conferences in Las Vegas, and spouses were encouraged to attend as well. When we heard about the shooting, I thought possibly the conference would be cancelled (and secretly hoped), but no, it was still on, with increased security. So here we came to Las Vegas.

At the airport was the juxtaposition of the blaring signs and colorful advertisements, promoting anything you could possibly desire, with large black screens saying “We’ve been there for you in the good times. Thank you for standing with us in the bad. #VegasStrong” And that is the hashtag I almost used in my photo above, but something in me balked at the idea. Vegas Strong? No, the only help for Vegas, for any city, for our country, and for our world, can be found through prayer.

I do not believe it was a coincidence that brought me here, with a burning desire in my heart to pray. And not just pray, but to sit at the window and stretch out my arms, not out of the hate and evil of the man two days ago, but out of sadness and love.

Tears pour down my face as I pray for the people of this city, both visitors and residents, who have been broken by this act of evil. I pray that they will seek Jesus, the Savior and Ultimate Comforter, for healing and renewal. I pray for the people who are here that have not been broken, because they have built up such walls of hate and fear or even indifference, that God will break down those walls so that His love and transforming power can seep into their souls. I pray for the families of those who died, that they will seek and find comfort in Jesus; I pray for the wounded that they will be healed and give God the glory! I pray that the churches would rise up in love and be welcoming of every single sinner (and by that, I mean EVERYONE, including and especially myself) and say, “Come and gather with us, because we love you. Here you will find redemption and renewal through our Savior, Jesus Christ.” And finally, I have been praying for this city, that it will be transformed by this heinous act, and not by responding evil with evil, but by becoming a city that LOVES, as Christ loves his people. That people would feel the love of God like a broken dam, that floods through every seedy ally and small corners of every heart, and the city would be renewed and transformed by this love, by His power, and by His Grace.

Because I am dealing with my own insecurities while I am here, I feel an inadequate vessel to be pouring out such enormous prayers for this city. But for some reason I am here and feel this burden that I can’t seem to ignore, so I continue to pray things that I may never see answered, or may never see the impact of until I get to heaven. But for some reason, God chooses inadequate vessels, so maybe he did indeed choose me to be here for such a time as this.

An Invitation to His Plan

Last week I wrote about my sometimes bad attitude. I've been thinking a lot about it and I wish I could say I've conquered it forever and absolutely! But instead, it will probably continue in those hard days. So for now, I will work to contemplate God's grace. 

If I think of my obligations as just that - obligations - then that's what they always will be. But instead, I am trying to remember that God has a plan that will be accomplished, whether I am a part of it or not! But because of His love and grace to me, he gently invites me to be a part of accomplishing His perfect plan. He uses my flawed attitude, my faithless hands, to carry out his Perfect Plan. 

And what a beautiful gift!

I don't have to do anything to earn His love.
I get to do His work because of His love. 

Yesterday I spent some time looking at my hands and I offer them to Him. They are His hands, to use on this earth, to accomplish His Will. "Not my will but yours," Jesus says in the garden before His death, and I try to echo that in my fallen, imperfect way.

I hesitate to even write these thoughts, because it sound so pious, so put-together. But in fact, it is the exact opposite. These are the thoughts in my head as I feel worn down and just trying to keep my head above water. 

And my bad attitude will come and go as the days roll in and out. But His love for me will continue, and His plan will continue, and I get to be a part of it.

The Bad Attitude and the Blessing

I have a confession to make.

Many, many times throughout the day, I have a bad attitude. I'm working on it, I really am. But seriously, I'm a mom. I'm tired. I have more to do than I can get done, and none of it is what I want to be doing. Hence the bad attitude.

But recently I've noticed an amazing phenomenon: 

God uses me despite my bad attitude. 

It has happened time and time again in the past months (and probably years, if I really look back far enough). Here is the common situation:

An obligation is approaching, usually one that I myself signed up for many weeks earlier. But as the day approaches that I need to fulfill the obligation, I start to whine. Then the day arrives, and I get on my phone and complain to my friends about the obligation. I wonder why I signed up for the obligation in the first place! 

Then comes the amazing part. Once the obligation is done, I realize that God used me and my bad attitude and made something beautiful come out of it. I look back on the obligation and realize it was an act of beauty, it was received with love, and my life was blessed by it. And in looking back on what was once thought of as an obligation, but now I realize was a blessing, I am humbled. 

What kind of God uses me to bless others when I am a whiner, complainer, and a bad-attitude haver? And not only uses me, but blesses me through it? It is a God of love, kindness, mercy, and forgiveness. The kind of God who wants to pour out his blessings, if we would only open our eyes and see them. 

And it makes me think.

What kind of blessing would I be (and therefore receive) if I could just knock-off that bad attitude? Would the blessings to others be multiplied if I truly did these things out of love instead of obligation?

Am I as bad as Joseph's brothers? "You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good." (Genesis 50:20)

(To be fair, I never intend harm! A bad attitude can't be as bad as that, right?) 

Only an all-powerful and gracious God can make all these things come out for the good.

So I continue to work on it. Those busy days come and go and so do the bad attitudes (a lot of times it depends on the amount of sleep I get, to which I think most mothers can attest!).

And even in those times, in all times, God is faithful and I am blessed.

Take my life

A friend recently asked me why I had the music and lyrics to the song "Take My Life and Let It Be" (Frances R. Havergal) up on my fridge. I hadn't ever really thought about it before, but I immediately said, "I feel like it's my prayer as a housewife, homemaker, and mother." (Actually, I wasn't quite that eloquent, but that's what I meant.) And the more I've thought about it, the more I realize how true that is! In fact, tonight as I was washing and cutting up strawberries (my new favorite dessert, thanks to my new, sugarless lifestyle - yes, I'm now one of those people who eats FRUIT like DESSERT!), I was singing it to myself and imagining how the words pertained to the stay-at-home mom. So here is what I came up with: Take my life and let it be Consecrated, Lord, to Thee. My life may look mundane, in all the routine little things that I do (will the dishes ever end??) but it is the life the Lord has laid out for me, and it is sacred. I have dedicated it to Him, so even in doing the never-ending dishes, I am worshipping Him.

Take my moments and my days, Let them flow in endless praise. I want my children to see me worshipping the Lord in everything I do. If I can live out a life of praise in front of them, how much easier will it be for them to do it, too!

Take my hands and let them move At the impulse of Thy love. Take my feet and let them be Swift and beautiful for Thee. So many times I want to just lose my temper. "How many times do I need to tell you to put your toys away???" But instead of condemning and acting out in anger, I pray that I will act out in love. I love these children so much. May my hands and my actions show them so.

Take my voice and let me sing, Always, only for my King. Do you know how often I've sung the song "Let it go" from Frozen??? Well, if you're a mother of a young girl, you probably know... it's a LOT! But how often am I singing praise choruses, or even this hymn? I want to be worshipful, even/especially in my singing. (Nothing wrong with singing a little "Let it go", though! How much longer will my daughter want to be singing those songs with me? But even those precious moments with our children can be worshipful.)

Take my lips and let them be Filled with messages from Thee. I pray that I would be more bold in my faith. It's not something I'm ashamed of, but something I cherish. Why do I withhold that precious gift from my non-believer friends? And I want to take every opportunity with my children to tell them about Jesus.

Take my silver and my gold, Not a mite would I withhold. I pray that I would be more generous and think less of myself when it comes to physical belongings. Don't I want my children to understand generosity? Do I want them to be spoiled? Or see me be spoiled?

Take my intellect and use Every pow’r as Thou shalt choose. So many people think that becoming a stay-at-home mom means that our minds/education has gone to waste. I pray that would not be so. I pray that I can use my intellect, my education, my knowledge to help my children understand more of life.

Take my will and make it Thine, It shall be no longer mine. Yes, I am a control-freak. (Actually, sometimes singing "Let it go" to myself helps me remember to do just that!) I pray that I would honor God's calling in my life. Even if it means I have to give up control.

Take my heart, it is Thine own, It shall be Thy royal throne. Take my love, my Lord, I pour At Thy feet its treasure store. More than anything, I want to love Jesus. I want Him to reign in my life. I want my children to see that in me, and I want love Him, too.

Take myself and I will be Ever, only, all for Thee. And that speaks for itself. That is my prayer. In every aspect of my life, may I live it for the Lord.

Introducing Audrey to October

Audrey

Having been born in February, Audrey has never met October before, so today I took the opportunity to introduce her to my favorite month. We stood outside and I explained that whooshing sound was the drying leaves scattering in the cooler breeze. I explained the clouds in the sky gave the month a feeling of mystery and suspense. The cooler weather makes you want to bundle up in warm blankets in a cozy house. I also told her about the coming holidays that October always alludes to and heightens my sense of anticipation. She's never experienced Thanksgiving or Christmas, the two best holidays of the year. When you are with the people you love most in the world, when daddy gets over a week off work, when you decorate the house with beautiful lights and ornaments, when you open presents and feel that rush of excitement upon receiving one, and giving one, when we celebrate the most Wonderful Present of all time. She doesn't understand it all right now, but it makes me even more excited about things to come. My favorite month always brings that anticipation, and that's why I love it so much. And having a child to share it with this year makes it exponentially better.

I do what I can.

It’s October, do you feel it?  Even if I weren’t looking at my calendar at this very moment and seeing “October”, I would feel it.  Even apart from the weather, and the earlier fading skies, I think I would know.  Apart from the colorful leaves falling from the tress and the sound they make as the wind rushes them along the pavement, apart from the cool air and the smells of wood-burning fireplaces, apart from sitting in my warm home, clad in snuggly pajamas, sipping hot cocoa and reading, while the light dwindles outside, I would still know.  Though all these wonderful things make up the month that is October, there is more to it than that.  Can’t you feel it?  When I walk outside and realize what month it is, I recognize a warmth and a humility growing in me.  It isn’t joy or happiness, but neither is it depression or sorrow.  There is only one possible explanation.  It’s magic.

Now I know some of you recoiled at the word.  “Oh no,” you thought.  “Is this more of her Harry Potter nonsense?”  Most certainly it is not.  It is my love for the Season and I am telling you, that through my many years of experiencing this powerful emotion that only occurs at this time of year, “magic” is the only word I have come across that adequately describes it. 

From the colorful leaves falling from the tress and the sound they make as the wind rushes them along the pavement, from the cool air and the smells of wood-burning fireplaces, from sitting in my warm home, clad in snuggly pajamas, sipping hot cocoa and reading, while the light dwindles outside, there’s magic in the air this time of year. 

It’s a time that causes people to dive into their homes, close their doors and turn on the heat.  Yet by no means can we stay inside.  There are holidays to prepare for, families to see, and presents to be bought.  But isn’t that the best part?  We come out of our hibernation, all of us bundled up so tightly it no longer matters how we look.  We’re all buying presents, shopping for turkeys, enjoying decorations, singing holiday songs; the holidays bring people together.  In doing so, however, there is sadness, remembering those who have passed, remembering loved ones who cannot be there with us.  It is a time when emotions are raw and exposed.  There is great joy, but there also is grief magnified. 

All these emotions pass through me, causing a deep introspection as I pass into the cool air.  For many years, I have felt this glee and anticipation rising in me when the months turned cold and I have long wondered why.  Is it because I will no longer have to deal with the sweat filled months of summer?  Is it because I am a night person and have more energy when it turns dark?  I eventually discovered the only thing that makes sense.  It is in anticipation of the Holiday.  Something in me stirs that I only feel once a year.  Something that tells me this Season means something.  This is real and I should pay attention.  The chill in the air, the holiday decorations, the shoppers filling parking lots and malls – it all reminds me that we are somehow in this together, we are all doing the same things and put here for the same purpose.  This realization brings a sense of urgency and humility in my life.  “There’s not much I can do,” I think.  He’s not calling you to change the world, is the answer. 

It’s almost November and I feel it even more.  There’s magic in the air.  And I do what I can.