Children come with different personalities. Having three of them, Rob and I have had the opportunity to see many varied facets of humanity. One thread seemed to run common in all of our children though. While some children seem to be easily corrected, falling into quick submission with the least word or glance, ours seemed to have a very different view of reality. Not one of ours responded quickly or easily to correction. The slight glances of disapproval that would send other children into tears did not faze our brood. They were an independent, strong willed bunch. By the time they had reached the age of two, frequent cries rang through the house of “I do it myself!” Independence was the watchword for our children.
While this theme was especially apparent in the preschool years, it continued to persist in their personalities as they grew older with some very interesting results. One particular incident has become one of those family stories we recite repeatedly. David was a young elementary school aged boy when I went to put him to bed one night. He had a lamp right over the head of his bed that he enjoyed using for reading at night. As I turned on the light that particular evening, smoke began pouring out of the socket. Frightened, I grabbed David out of harm’s way and yelled for Rob. Rob was able to stop the smoking before it became a full- fledged fire, but was puzzled as to what the cause was of our obviously damaged lamp. I must admit, I was spooked. This lamp was right over my baby’s head! What if he had turned it on when he was alone? What if it had sparked to a fire burning David and our home to the ground?
I began to notice that David seemed curious, yet not at all frightened by this chain of events. When we began to talk with him, he answered in very calm tones. David explained to us that his light bulb had gone out. In an effort to “recharge” the bulb, he had placed aluminum foil and lemon juice down in the light socket. In typical Dowell child fashion, David had seen the problem and addressed it on his own. No need to ask for help. He had it covered.
Our children were not born with these personalities in a vacuum. It seems as if the blending of Rob’s personality and my personality presents a universal trait of stubborn independence. No need to ask for help. I have got it covered. “I do it myself.”
It was easy to see the danger that had been invited into our home when this child decided, “I do it myself.” But what happens when I make that choice, as an adult, in my own life? For me, this frequently looks like me telling the Father, “No problem. I got this one covered. You are busy running the whole world. Let me take some of the burden off of your shoulders. I can deal with this.” This sounds like the adult solution right? As an American, should I not be all about independence and self-reliance? Isn’t this the mature, adult response to my situation? The reality is, I might as well be two years old, stamping my feet and screaming, “I do it myself.”
What danger does my seeming “independence” bring into my life? The list is limitless. However, the most frequent consequence in my life seems to be a burnout/emotional meltdown because I have taken tasks onto my own shoulders which my Father never meant for me to carry. He is well aware of my limits. He completely understands my lack of knowledge regarding a solution to my difficulties. Ever the gentleman though, he will not steal the burden from my shoulders. He waits for me to decide to lay it down.
Today, I would rather not be a screaming two year old. I want to approach my Father and ask Him to show me what burdens I am struggling with that He never meant for me to carry. I would love to replace the cries in my heart of “I do it myself!” with “Father, carry this for me.”
“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Matthew 11:28 (NIV)
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Scared to Sacred
One of our three children had a consistent struggle as a child. This child was scared of almost anything new and different. Though this child has walked away from this particular struggle and is now leading the pack in a life of new and different, during their childhood, this struggle presented quite a problem. Almost every time there was a new school, a new class, a different worker in the nursery or anything out of their everyday routine, fear would quickly set in. Rob and I began to realize what was going on and look for solutions. One of the techniques that was most effective for us was to be able to touch this child when they were faced with a new situation. If we could just keep a hand on them, the fear seemed to calm and it became easier for the child to walk forward into the unknown.
As an adult, one of the ways I have learned to process my emotions is by writing things down on paper. I do not understand how it works, but when I place my thoughts on paper, things will often become easier for me to understand. Things sometimes appear on the page that I did not even know were in my mind or heart. Writing has also become an easy way for me to talk to the Father about what is going on in my life. As He listens and I process, He often shows me truth I have been unable to see.
As I was recently writing to process several circumstances that had arisen in our lives, my emotions began to flow, as they often do. True confession – I am a major sappy crier. As I wrote, the truth came up in my heart, “I am scared.” When I went to write the word “scared” however, I suddenly blanked on how to spell it. Am I the only one who does this? One minute I am a cognizant, literate adult, the next minute, I cannot spell scared. As I wrestled in my brain, “Is it scared or sacred?,” I realized it only required the switching of two letters for “scared” to become “sacred.” That is when my precious Father held my hand and began to share truth with me.
1. My emotions are safe with my Father. It is my basic nature, when challenges arrive, to suck it up and push through. I can be very gifted at stuffing my emotions into a place where I feel they will no longer bother me or be a distraction to me or those around me. After all, there are mountains to climb, battles to fight – right? However, for me, eventually, my walls will crumble and the emotions will roll in like an ocean wave in advance of a Florida hurricane. All the while, my Father patiently waits until I am able to bring my emotions to Him. When I choose to do so, He is a completely safe place, no matter how violent the anger, how intense the fear, how deep or desperate the grief.
The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears are attentive to their cry; Psalm 34:15 (NIV)
2. When I come to a place of sharing my emotions with Him, I can choose to let go of them and hold His hand. At the point I choose to pour out my heart to the Father, there is rarely an immediate solution to whatever brought me to His feet. However, I can often feel an exchange of anger, fear or grief for peace. Something about choosing to share my emotions with the Father, allows me to also begin to let go of them. Just as we learned that a hand on our child’s shoulder could help them navigate through their fear, something about spilling out my emotions allows me to leave some of them with Him, in exchange for feeling His hand on my shoulder. Please do not mistake this for a Pollyanna response indicating I walk away from my time with the Father completely free of anger, fear and grief. When we placed our hand on our child’s shoulder, there was not an instant resolution for them. They simply had more strength to address their situation. As do I.
I will give thanks, for you answered me; you have become my salvation. Psalm 118:21 (NIV)
3. Life will give me plenty of opportunities to practice these lessons. A danger spot for me will be when I stand amazed at how these things could happen to me or those I care about. Though the Father is perfectly capable of handling all my whys, I have to move through those questions to a place of trust in Him. Life is very hard some days. Being in relationship with God makes me His child; it does not exempt me from trials. If I begin to take the attitude that since I love God, these circumstances should not be floating my direction, I will end up in a bitter and confused place.
He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Matthew 5:45 (NIV)
Today, I want to be a woman who is switching letters. I want to meet with my Father, entrust my emotions to Him and walk away from the scared to the sacred. With His hand on me, I am truly able to face every situation.
As an adult, one of the ways I have learned to process my emotions is by writing things down on paper. I do not understand how it works, but when I place my thoughts on paper, things will often become easier for me to understand. Things sometimes appear on the page that I did not even know were in my mind or heart. Writing has also become an easy way for me to talk to the Father about what is going on in my life. As He listens and I process, He often shows me truth I have been unable to see.
As I was recently writing to process several circumstances that had arisen in our lives, my emotions began to flow, as they often do. True confession – I am a major sappy crier. As I wrote, the truth came up in my heart, “I am scared.” When I went to write the word “scared” however, I suddenly blanked on how to spell it. Am I the only one who does this? One minute I am a cognizant, literate adult, the next minute, I cannot spell scared. As I wrestled in my brain, “Is it scared or sacred?,” I realized it only required the switching of two letters for “scared” to become “sacred.” That is when my precious Father held my hand and began to share truth with me.
1. My emotions are safe with my Father. It is my basic nature, when challenges arrive, to suck it up and push through. I can be very gifted at stuffing my emotions into a place where I feel they will no longer bother me or be a distraction to me or those around me. After all, there are mountains to climb, battles to fight – right? However, for me, eventually, my walls will crumble and the emotions will roll in like an ocean wave in advance of a Florida hurricane. All the while, my Father patiently waits until I am able to bring my emotions to Him. When I choose to do so, He is a completely safe place, no matter how violent the anger, how intense the fear, how deep or desperate the grief.
The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears are attentive to their cry; Psalm 34:15 (NIV)
2. When I come to a place of sharing my emotions with Him, I can choose to let go of them and hold His hand. At the point I choose to pour out my heart to the Father, there is rarely an immediate solution to whatever brought me to His feet. However, I can often feel an exchange of anger, fear or grief for peace. Something about choosing to share my emotions with the Father, allows me to also begin to let go of them. Just as we learned that a hand on our child’s shoulder could help them navigate through their fear, something about spilling out my emotions allows me to leave some of them with Him, in exchange for feeling His hand on my shoulder. Please do not mistake this for a Pollyanna response indicating I walk away from my time with the Father completely free of anger, fear and grief. When we placed our hand on our child’s shoulder, there was not an instant resolution for them. They simply had more strength to address their situation. As do I.
I will give thanks, for you answered me; you have become my salvation. Psalm 118:21 (NIV)
3. Life will give me plenty of opportunities to practice these lessons. A danger spot for me will be when I stand amazed at how these things could happen to me or those I care about. Though the Father is perfectly capable of handling all my whys, I have to move through those questions to a place of trust in Him. Life is very hard some days. Being in relationship with God makes me His child; it does not exempt me from trials. If I begin to take the attitude that since I love God, these circumstances should not be floating my direction, I will end up in a bitter and confused place.
He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Matthew 5:45 (NIV)
Today, I want to be a woman who is switching letters. I want to meet with my Father, entrust my emotions to Him and walk away from the scared to the sacred. With His hand on me, I am truly able to face every situation.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Can the Floor Open Up and Swallow Me Now?
With boys who were seven and ten years older, we quickly began to observe a frequently repeated comment when we took our new baby girl and her brothers out into public. People would lean down to see the baby, dressed from head to toe in pink, and coo over her. They would then look at our two elementary age sons and a comment began resonating from their lips much more often than I liked. “Oh, how wonderful for you. You FINALLY got your girl.” Much to my frustration, few seemed to think about the impact this statement might have on our two young sons. One night, I decided to address the issue at the dinner table. With the boys in our presence, I shared with Rob how once again, someone had given us the “finally” statement when we had been out that day. “Do these people really believe we spent the past ten years having no life, just waiting for Libby to be born?” My question was meant as much for the boys to hear as for Rob to answer. I went on to express my concern with a brilliant statement. “The next time someone says that to me, I think I am just going to smack them.”
Within the week, I took the boys to an appointment with a new dentist. The hygienist came out to graciously greet our family. Sure enough, she bent over the stroller, cooed over Libby, looked me straight in the face and said, “Well, you finally got your girl.” Immediately, Mark began pulling on my arm. Before I could address him, he spoke in a clear voice, “Mom, didn’t you say you were going to smack the next person that said that?” As you can imagine, there was nothing for me to do but smile and wish the floor would open up to swallow me.
So this is the story of the one time in my life my child/children completely embarrassed me – NOT. As you can imagine, as you have probably personally experienced, something about being a mom just lends itself to having “will the floor please swallow me up now?” incidents. So, what is really going on when these things happen?
Sometimes, I was not careful with the words that came out of my mouth, especially in my home. At times, my children had just not yet developed the maturity to understand that not everything said in the home demands a repeat presentation in the marketplace of life. Yet some of the time, there was a larger issue going on, one that has had to be continually addressed in my life.
You see, I had chosen to dress myself in a non-visual, yet very real to me, coat. This coat was extremely heavy, unattractive and often just plain stinky. This coat not only impacted my life, but has been at times, a terrible drain on my children, much like an over-burdened, over-heated mom can be to a family. The coat I am describing was one of letting my children’s successes and failures become my resume/report card. When my children were successful (whatever that means), I was a good mom. Not just a good mom, a good person, feeling like I was on top of the world. When my children struggled and had failures, I was a bad mom, beating myself up, overanalyzing every decision I had made/was making with them, depressed and miserable to be around.
It is an easy trap to fall into as a mom. We love our children. We want the best for them. We know we have a huge impact on their lives, especially when they are little. The following logical application seemed to be for me, if they do well, I have done well. If they struggle and fail, I have screwed up.
God has graciously pointed out to me, over the years, the utter failure in such “logic.” He describes himself, over and over again in the Bible, as a parent to us.
Within the week, I took the boys to an appointment with a new dentist. The hygienist came out to graciously greet our family. Sure enough, she bent over the stroller, cooed over Libby, looked me straight in the face and said, “Well, you finally got your girl.” Immediately, Mark began pulling on my arm. Before I could address him, he spoke in a clear voice, “Mom, didn’t you say you were going to smack the next person that said that?” As you can imagine, there was nothing for me to do but smile and wish the floor would open up to swallow me.
So this is the story of the one time in my life my child/children completely embarrassed me – NOT. As you can imagine, as you have probably personally experienced, something about being a mom just lends itself to having “will the floor please swallow me up now?” incidents. So, what is really going on when these things happen?
Sometimes, I was not careful with the words that came out of my mouth, especially in my home. At times, my children had just not yet developed the maturity to understand that not everything said in the home demands a repeat presentation in the marketplace of life. Yet some of the time, there was a larger issue going on, one that has had to be continually addressed in my life.
You see, I had chosen to dress myself in a non-visual, yet very real to me, coat. This coat was extremely heavy, unattractive and often just plain stinky. This coat not only impacted my life, but has been at times, a terrible drain on my children, much like an over-burdened, over-heated mom can be to a family. The coat I am describing was one of letting my children’s successes and failures become my resume/report card. When my children were successful (whatever that means), I was a good mom. Not just a good mom, a good person, feeling like I was on top of the world. When my children struggled and had failures, I was a bad mom, beating myself up, overanalyzing every decision I had made/was making with them, depressed and miserable to be around.
It is an easy trap to fall into as a mom. We love our children. We want the best for them. We know we have a huge impact on their lives, especially when they are little. The following logical application seemed to be for me, if they do well, I have done well. If they struggle and fail, I have screwed up.
God has graciously pointed out to me, over the years, the utter failure in such “logic.” He describes himself, over and over again in the Bible, as a parent to us.
“I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” 2 Corinthians 6:18 (NIV)
He tells us how His ways are perfect.
As for God, His way is perfect. Psalm 18:30a (NIV)
Yet, you also see God hurting over the mistakes of His children.
“My heart churns within me; my sympathy is stirred.” Hosea 11:8c (NKJV)
You see, in spite of God’s being a perfect parent, His outcome is not perfect children. I only need to look in the mirror to understand that particular truth. Why then, was I expecting superior results from my own flawed parenting?
This week, I had the privilege to share this truth with some mothers of preschoolers. I wish I could say God allows me that opportunity because I have carefully learned this truth and consistently now apply it in my daily life. Unfortunately, I seem to be in the position of repeatedly being able to share this truth because it is something I struggle with so mightily. The reality is I am not a perfect parent. And the coat of my children’s outcomes being my resume is too extraordinarily heavy for either me or my children to bear. We all need the freedom to learn and grow without anyone’s resume depending on the outcome.
The moments I want the floor to open up and swallow me because of my children are now very rare. Probably, the shoe has passed to their feet, especially for a teenage daughter with a so not cool mom. Hopefully, God is starting to write His truth on my heart. I am not a perfect parent. He is. I have not turned out perfectly. They have not turned out perfectly. Yet just as I love them, He loves me. Even if He does still want the floor to open up some days.
This week, I had the privilege to share this truth with some mothers of preschoolers. I wish I could say God allows me that opportunity because I have carefully learned this truth and consistently now apply it in my daily life. Unfortunately, I seem to be in the position of repeatedly being able to share this truth because it is something I struggle with so mightily. The reality is I am not a perfect parent. And the coat of my children’s outcomes being my resume is too extraordinarily heavy for either me or my children to bear. We all need the freedom to learn and grow without anyone’s resume depending on the outcome.
The moments I want the floor to open up and swallow me because of my children are now very rare. Probably, the shoe has passed to their feet, especially for a teenage daughter with a so not cool mom. Hopefully, God is starting to write His truth on my heart. I am not a perfect parent. He is. I have not turned out perfectly. They have not turned out perfectly. Yet just as I love them, He loves me. Even if He does still want the floor to open up some days.
Friday, July 11, 2008
In Fashion
When Mark was a baby, he loved to crawl. In fact, Mark loved crawling so much that he was not at all interested in learning to walk. He was a big guy, fast on his knees, and chose not to walk until he was seventeen months old. With a three year old big brother he wanted to follow everywhere, this presented some interesting dilemmas. We soon realized Mark was so eager to keep up with the older children that he would follow them down the concrete driveway oblivious to the fact that his knees were bleeding. With the warm weather of Florida, David and the neighborhood children were outside much of the day. Mark was anxious to tag along.
Our solution to this dilemma was functional, but not very pretty. It was too hot for the boy to wear long pants, so we took some of Rob’s knee high athletic socks and used suspenders to hold them in place. Mark crawled on, happy to be able to keep up and mom and dad content to see his knees no longer bleeding, but he was quite a sight. He was a fashion blunder waiting to be rescued by the latest cable show.
So now you know our son was a functional fashion disaster as a toddler, due to his parents. However, lately I have been thinking of different fashions. What am I clothing myself in each day?
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Colossians 3:12 (NIV)
Wow, what a list! Humility? Gentleness? Are these even in my closet? Often, I would believe falsely that these are not options for me. Random erroneous thoughts come to me like “just not my personality.” However, that is not the whole truth.
My Father has well outfitted my closet. He has made me holy – still a mind boggling concept for me, but a true one, none the less. He has filled my closet with everything I need to wear each day – including compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. My choice each day is whether or not I want to clothe myself in these things.
Mark’s fashion disaster was a functional one which still brings laughs and fond memories for our family. My life, however, can become a fashion disaster when I choose not to clothe myself in the beautiful things my Father has given me to wear. There will be nothing funny or fond about it, when I choose to ignore the clothes/qualities my Father desires that I wear. Today, I want to go out looking good by choosing the clothes the Father has laid out for me. His fashion sense is always in style.
Our solution to this dilemma was functional, but not very pretty. It was too hot for the boy to wear long pants, so we took some of Rob’s knee high athletic socks and used suspenders to hold them in place. Mark crawled on, happy to be able to keep up and mom and dad content to see his knees no longer bleeding, but he was quite a sight. He was a fashion blunder waiting to be rescued by the latest cable show.
So now you know our son was a functional fashion disaster as a toddler, due to his parents. However, lately I have been thinking of different fashions. What am I clothing myself in each day?
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Colossians 3:12 (NIV)
Wow, what a list! Humility? Gentleness? Are these even in my closet? Often, I would believe falsely that these are not options for me. Random erroneous thoughts come to me like “just not my personality.” However, that is not the whole truth.
My Father has well outfitted my closet. He has made me holy – still a mind boggling concept for me, but a true one, none the less. He has filled my closet with everything I need to wear each day – including compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. My choice each day is whether or not I want to clothe myself in these things.
Mark’s fashion disaster was a functional one which still brings laughs and fond memories for our family. My life, however, can become a fashion disaster when I choose not to clothe myself in the beautiful things my Father has given me to wear. There will be nothing funny or fond about it, when I choose to ignore the clothes/qualities my Father desires that I wear. Today, I want to go out looking good by choosing the clothes the Father has laid out for me. His fashion sense is always in style.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
An Anchor
As a teenage girl, I experientially learned a painful, but profound truth. Life can change in a moment.
Rapidly
Irreparably
Forever
When my only sibling, my fifteen year old younger brother, died suddenly and unexpectedly three days before Christmas, I was thrown into a world with a depth of pain I had not imagined possible.
Except for the loss of a dearly loved uncle, my childhood had been relatively pain free. When this tragedy came blaring into our lives, seemingly out of nowhere, it felt to me like one must feel when suddenly overtaken on a quiet dark road by a speeding semi-truck. You are suddenly flattened, left without air in your lungs, terrified, stunned and generally lost.
Obviously, I was not the only one affected by these events. My parents were attending a Sunday School class party when the news came that turned their world upside down. Our extended family changed their plans from Christmas dinners to receiving food from grieving friends wanting to give us comfort. For my aunt and her family, Christmas dinner became hot dogs in the Atlanta airport as they traveled home from the funeral. Both my brother’s junior high and my high school had to cancel some semester exams the next day when students became too distraught to test after hearing the news and looking at their classmate’s empty seat. My pastor, a strong and godly man, spoke words of comfort at my brother’s funeral, but only after privately confessing his feelings of total inadequacy in light of such stark tragedy.
All in a moment.
Where is the hope in this story? Where do we turn in the hour of our greatest need, our darkest pain? If we can not know from one moment to the next whether or not everything in our lives will be turned upside down, how do we get out of bed each morning? The only answer I have found is in the Bible.
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
Hebrews 6:19 (NIV)
Anchors were only pictures in a book to me until Rob was assigned to a ship as the assistant supply officer. Watching the large ships of the United States naval fleet as a young bride, I was amazed at the size and scope of the anchors. These mammoth shapes of metal were accompanied by large, long chains which allowed them to drop to the bottom of the ocean floor. When the chains began to creak as they dropped, you knew the ship they were tied to was going nowhere. The ship would remain steady no matter how the sea rolled against it.
The book of Hebrews gives me words which I can use as a secure anchor for my soul as the seas roll in my life. These words give me a place to find hope. Chapter 2 tells me that Jesus tasted death for me and is not ashamed to call me brother. It says that He shared in my humanity so He could destroy the one “who holds the power of death – that is the devil.” (Hebrews 2:14b – NIV) In chapter 6, we who are in relationship with Jesus through His death on the cross are called heirs. We are called those “who have fled to take hold of the hope offered.” (Hebrews 6:18 – NIV) What is that hope? That we are part of God’s family. Forgiven. Heirs. Brothers and Sisters.
The reality I learned as a teenager is that I truly have no clue what the next twenty four hours hold for me or for those I love. I can dream, plan, anticipate, but I will never be able to anchor my life to anything in the future. Life can change in a moment.
The only anchor for my soul, the only secure resting place is with the hope I have in Jesus Christ. He has secured my spot in the family. My long term destiny is clear, though what happens in this life may be foggy. Thankfully, very few days in my life have been like that life changing December day in my teens. So many days have been happy and calm. My hope is not in future days of calm though, my hope is in God. He is my firm anchor of delivery for whatever happens . . . . . . in a moment.
As a teenage girl, I experientially learned a painful, but profound truth. Life can change in a moment.
Rapidly
Irreparably
Forever
When my only sibling, my fifteen year old younger brother, died suddenly and unexpectedly three days before Christmas, I was thrown into a world with a depth of pain I had not imagined possible.
Except for the loss of a dearly loved uncle, my childhood had been relatively pain free. When this tragedy came blaring into our lives, seemingly out of nowhere, it felt to me like one must feel when suddenly overtaken on a quiet dark road by a speeding semi-truck. You are suddenly flattened, left without air in your lungs, terrified, stunned and generally lost.
Obviously, I was not the only one affected by these events. My parents were attending a Sunday School class party when the news came that turned their world upside down. Our extended family changed their plans from Christmas dinners to receiving food from grieving friends wanting to give us comfort. For my aunt and her family, Christmas dinner became hot dogs in the Atlanta airport as they traveled home from the funeral. Both my brother’s junior high and my high school had to cancel some semester exams the next day when students became too distraught to test after hearing the news and looking at their classmate’s empty seat. My pastor, a strong and godly man, spoke words of comfort at my brother’s funeral, but only after privately confessing his feelings of total inadequacy in light of such stark tragedy.
All in a moment.
Where is the hope in this story? Where do we turn in the hour of our greatest need, our darkest pain? If we can not know from one moment to the next whether or not everything in our lives will be turned upside down, how do we get out of bed each morning? The only answer I have found is in the Bible.
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.
Hebrews 6:19 (NIV)
Anchors were only pictures in a book to me until Rob was assigned to a ship as the assistant supply officer. Watching the large ships of the United States naval fleet as a young bride, I was amazed at the size and scope of the anchors. These mammoth shapes of metal were accompanied by large, long chains which allowed them to drop to the bottom of the ocean floor. When the chains began to creak as they dropped, you knew the ship they were tied to was going nowhere. The ship would remain steady no matter how the sea rolled against it.
The book of Hebrews gives me words which I can use as a secure anchor for my soul as the seas roll in my life. These words give me a place to find hope. Chapter 2 tells me that Jesus tasted death for me and is not ashamed to call me brother. It says that He shared in my humanity so He could destroy the one “who holds the power of death – that is the devil.” (Hebrews 2:14b – NIV) In chapter 6, we who are in relationship with Jesus through His death on the cross are called heirs. We are called those “who have fled to take hold of the hope offered.” (Hebrews 6:18 – NIV) What is that hope? That we are part of God’s family. Forgiven. Heirs. Brothers and Sisters.
The reality I learned as a teenager is that I truly have no clue what the next twenty four hours hold for me or for those I love. I can dream, plan, anticipate, but I will never be able to anchor my life to anything in the future. Life can change in a moment.
The only anchor for my soul, the only secure resting place is with the hope I have in Jesus Christ. He has secured my spot in the family. My long term destiny is clear, though what happens in this life may be foggy. Thankfully, very few days in my life have been like that life changing December day in my teens. So many days have been happy and calm. My hope is not in future days of calm though, my hope is in God. He is my firm anchor of delivery for whatever happens . . . . . . in a moment.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Missing Beth
Recently we had some precious friends from Orlando come to visit us and see Washington, D.C. It was a treat for me as playing tourist in our nation's capitol is one of my favorite things to do. We took off for the week visiting the museums, the monuments, the Capitol and the White House. We were having a grand old time playing in the city as she showed off for us all decked out in her annual pink necklace of cherry blossoms.
On Saturday afternoon, one of our friends had to head back to Orlando, so after we put her on the train, we went to see the Washington monument. The view was spectacular walking in a short circle to see the Lincoln Memorial, the reflecting pool, the White House and the Capitol. We sat and marveled at how good God had been to give us such a wonderful week.
The next Tuesday morning, I sat in bible study listening to everyone sharing their prayer requests. One lady mentioned that she had a special praise. On Saturday, she had taken visiting family down to the district to see the sites. When they stopped in front of the Capitol, who did they see but Beth Moore filming on the steps of the Capitol. My friend continued telling of how they got to meet Beth, how she was just as precious in person as she is on her DVDs and what a special day it was for their family.
While this story was being shared, I sat with my mouth hanging open. It has been my privilege to study several of Beth Moore's DVD series. Each time, Beth has a way of presenting the material so that you feel you are sharing God's word over a cup of coffee with her. Consequently, I kind of consider Beth on my list of BFF's, even though we have never met. So, what was up with me standing and gazing from the Washington Monument at the Capitol while Beth is standing on the steps of the Capitol and never knowing she was there? After all the warm mugs we have shared together over God's word, shouldn't I have realized she was in town? Unbelievable.
Hopefully, you are grinning about how silly I am to get worked up over missing someone who has never even met me. I know I will get to hug Beth's neck in heaven and thank her for giving of herself to write and teach Bible studies that have drawn me closer to the Father. Meeting Beth on this side of eternity would be a treat, but it is not in any way essential. There is, however, a meeting I can not miss - my meeting with Jesus.
Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits-
who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases,
who ransoms your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.
Psalm 103: 2-5
I must have my sins forgiven. I need my diseases (selfishness, a critical spirit, being judgemental and on and on) healed. I want a life that is ransomed from the pit. And oh how sweet when He satisfies my desires with good things and renews my youth (a benefit which looks better every year!) like the eagle's.
Recently, a precious friend shared with us how God has changed her focus in the intense struggle she has been walking through. Some days, she shared with us, all she can say is "At least I am not going to hell." Though initially this may seem like a very morbid statement, its truth is exactly how Jesus instructed His disciples. When they had returned from missions He had sent them out on, they were rejoicing over all they had accomplished through His power. Look at Jesus' words to them:
"I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven."
Luke 10:19-20
This is where my heart wants to rest today. "Rejoice that your names are written in heaven." I may have missed Beth, but praise God . . . . . . I did not miss Jesus.
On Saturday afternoon, one of our friends had to head back to Orlando, so after we put her on the train, we went to see the Washington monument. The view was spectacular walking in a short circle to see the Lincoln Memorial, the reflecting pool, the White House and the Capitol. We sat and marveled at how good God had been to give us such a wonderful week.
The next Tuesday morning, I sat in bible study listening to everyone sharing their prayer requests. One lady mentioned that she had a special praise. On Saturday, she had taken visiting family down to the district to see the sites. When they stopped in front of the Capitol, who did they see but Beth Moore filming on the steps of the Capitol. My friend continued telling of how they got to meet Beth, how she was just as precious in person as she is on her DVDs and what a special day it was for their family.
While this story was being shared, I sat with my mouth hanging open. It has been my privilege to study several of Beth Moore's DVD series. Each time, Beth has a way of presenting the material so that you feel you are sharing God's word over a cup of coffee with her. Consequently, I kind of consider Beth on my list of BFF's, even though we have never met. So, what was up with me standing and gazing from the Washington Monument at the Capitol while Beth is standing on the steps of the Capitol and never knowing she was there? After all the warm mugs we have shared together over God's word, shouldn't I have realized she was in town? Unbelievable.
Hopefully, you are grinning about how silly I am to get worked up over missing someone who has never even met me. I know I will get to hug Beth's neck in heaven and thank her for giving of herself to write and teach Bible studies that have drawn me closer to the Father. Meeting Beth on this side of eternity would be a treat, but it is not in any way essential. There is, however, a meeting I can not miss - my meeting with Jesus.
Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits-
who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases,
who ransoms your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.
Psalm 103: 2-5
I must have my sins forgiven. I need my diseases (selfishness, a critical spirit, being judgemental and on and on) healed. I want a life that is ransomed from the pit. And oh how sweet when He satisfies my desires with good things and renews my youth (a benefit which looks better every year!) like the eagle's.
Recently, a precious friend shared with us how God has changed her focus in the intense struggle she has been walking through. Some days, she shared with us, all she can say is "At least I am not going to hell." Though initially this may seem like a very morbid statement, its truth is exactly how Jesus instructed His disciples. When they had returned from missions He had sent them out on, they were rejoicing over all they had accomplished through His power. Look at Jesus' words to them:
"I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven."
Luke 10:19-20
This is where my heart wants to rest today. "Rejoice that your names are written in heaven." I may have missed Beth, but praise God . . . . . . I did not miss Jesus.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Puffed Up
Have you ever seen the defense mechanisms of a puffer fish at work? When perceiving danger, the puffer fish has the ability to fill its very elastic stomach up with large volumes of water (or air) and bloat itself to several times larger than its normal size. Many species of puffer fish also have quills or spines which become more pronounced upon inflation. Their sudden bloating and resulting exposed spines frequently drive away potential predators in fear.
Lately, I have been noticing behavior in myself akin to a puffer fish. Maybe I am noticing because my gracious Father has been turning my eyes that way. When something does not go my way or I feel mistreated, especially with family members, I begin sucking air in and blowing up my body. Out come quills all over me ready to strike at any perceived danger or offense. As the air continues to bloat my little puffer fish-like body, so my attitude grows larger and larger, more and more distasteful.
Please understand the perceived danger in my life does not involve physical violence or vulgar, abusive words. My perceived dangers look a little more like this:
“Well, if he expects me to ___________ (fill in the blank with any number of ideas), he’s got another think coming!”
“So help me, if I have to tell that child one more time to _________”
“Does he ever think about how this might impact me ?!?!?”
Slowly but surely, I mentally become the “offended” rehearsing over in my mind the “offense.” Needless to say, my countenance, my thoughts and my attitude quickly sour as this thinking inflates inside of me. Depending upon my mood at the time, I can choose to use my drama queen tendencies to either cover the bloating inside of me or exaggerate it to be sure my offender is aware of their crime. Pretty picture, huh?
Two competing ideas seem to arise while I am bloated. My own self, along with the whispers of voices of evil which desire only my self destruction, instruct me to balance the scales of injustice by dealing with the offense. Self and evil advise me to dwell on the offense by turning it over and over in my mind. They encourage me to devise a plan of action for educating the offender of his or her mistake. All of these mental gyrations allow the nasty air to swirl around inside and keep me bloated.
The Father has been showing me I have some other options in these situations. He gently reminds me, despite my protests, that I do have choices in these matters. His ideas are starkly different from those of self and evil.
Let it go.
Consider that your “offender” may have meant no offense.
Let it go.
Is this really worth your mental energy?
Let it go.
Will you even remember this one week from now?
Let it go.
The “Let it go” mindset is glaringly unpopular in our world today. “Stand up for your self,” “You have to make them understand,” “You can not just let them walk on you.” These are much more popular concepts. For me, these ideas are not particularly helpful. They allow me to justify the very thoughts and attitudes which keep me bloated. I hate being bloated.
Making the choice to let go gives me much more power and control. These are two of my strongest cravings which this time can work for my good. When I let go, I can feel the air beginning to leave. As the sour air seeps out, I slowly deflate. This deflation relieves my bloating. My mind comes back under control. Peace floods in.
I know many of you are probably climbing on your soapboxes of concern to remind me that I need to have a voice, my family needs to understand how their actions impact me and discipline and boundaries are essential in the home. Truly, I hear you. But here are my personal truths. I have wasted too much energy in my own life being puffed up about things that did not really matter anyway. Too much of my time and thoughts have gone towards anger at the very people I actually love more than any others on this earth, often when they had do clue what they had done. These are personal truths that propel me to change.
I can feel my Father smile and whisper His approval at my decision to choose to let it go. He has watched as I built my own chains of bondage through the years around my bloated self. This is not His desire for me. He is a lover of freedom.
Today I want to remember the little puffer fish. I want to understand how easily my mind blows up with sour air. I want to stay deflated. I want to choose to let it go.
"Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up."
1 Corinthians 8:1b (NIV)
Lately, I have been noticing behavior in myself akin to a puffer fish. Maybe I am noticing because my gracious Father has been turning my eyes that way. When something does not go my way or I feel mistreated, especially with family members, I begin sucking air in and blowing up my body. Out come quills all over me ready to strike at any perceived danger or offense. As the air continues to bloat my little puffer fish-like body, so my attitude grows larger and larger, more and more distasteful.
Please understand the perceived danger in my life does not involve physical violence or vulgar, abusive words. My perceived dangers look a little more like this:
“Well, if he expects me to ___________ (fill in the blank with any number of ideas), he’s got another think coming!”
“So help me, if I have to tell that child one more time to _________”
“Does he ever think about how this might impact me ?!?!?”
Slowly but surely, I mentally become the “offended” rehearsing over in my mind the “offense.” Needless to say, my countenance, my thoughts and my attitude quickly sour as this thinking inflates inside of me. Depending upon my mood at the time, I can choose to use my drama queen tendencies to either cover the bloating inside of me or exaggerate it to be sure my offender is aware of their crime. Pretty picture, huh?
Two competing ideas seem to arise while I am bloated. My own self, along with the whispers of voices of evil which desire only my self destruction, instruct me to balance the scales of injustice by dealing with the offense. Self and evil advise me to dwell on the offense by turning it over and over in my mind. They encourage me to devise a plan of action for educating the offender of his or her mistake. All of these mental gyrations allow the nasty air to swirl around inside and keep me bloated.
The Father has been showing me I have some other options in these situations. He gently reminds me, despite my protests, that I do have choices in these matters. His ideas are starkly different from those of self and evil.
Let it go.
Consider that your “offender” may have meant no offense.
Let it go.
Is this really worth your mental energy?
Let it go.
Will you even remember this one week from now?
Let it go.
The “Let it go” mindset is glaringly unpopular in our world today. “Stand up for your self,” “You have to make them understand,” “You can not just let them walk on you.” These are much more popular concepts. For me, these ideas are not particularly helpful. They allow me to justify the very thoughts and attitudes which keep me bloated. I hate being bloated.
Making the choice to let go gives me much more power and control. These are two of my strongest cravings which this time can work for my good. When I let go, I can feel the air beginning to leave. As the sour air seeps out, I slowly deflate. This deflation relieves my bloating. My mind comes back under control. Peace floods in.
I know many of you are probably climbing on your soapboxes of concern to remind me that I need to have a voice, my family needs to understand how their actions impact me and discipline and boundaries are essential in the home. Truly, I hear you. But here are my personal truths. I have wasted too much energy in my own life being puffed up about things that did not really matter anyway. Too much of my time and thoughts have gone towards anger at the very people I actually love more than any others on this earth, often when they had do clue what they had done. These are personal truths that propel me to change.
I can feel my Father smile and whisper His approval at my decision to choose to let it go. He has watched as I built my own chains of bondage through the years around my bloated self. This is not His desire for me. He is a lover of freedom.
Today I want to remember the little puffer fish. I want to understand how easily my mind blows up with sour air. I want to stay deflated. I want to choose to let it go.
"Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up."
1 Corinthians 8:1b (NIV)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)