with child: God saves

My friend Lindsey is hosting a motherhood series on her blog called "with child."  This week I wrote the guest post about motherhood, failure, and the gospel.  You can read my post at Lindsey's blog Redeeming Naptime.  Please check out Lindsey's great posts on faith and parenting while you are there.  The series will continue through next month with a different mom posting each Tuesday.  Thanks for reading!

Here is an excerpt of my post:

"...Our identity needs to be rooted in something unchanging, something that cannot be taken away. Ultimately motherhood is no more guaranteed than anything else in this world. We may not get to be mothers, we may lose our children through tragedy, and ultimately, our children will grow up and move away from us. What will we be when there are no more mouths to feed and tiny tears to dry?..."

further up and further in: novels and our spiritual journey

This week I started Middlemarch by George Eliot for the third time.  This time I'm determined to finish it.  I tried reading it in high school, and never got into it either from it not being more like Jane Austen or it being a little too advanced.  In college it was assigned for my British Novel class my junior year, but I had a stack of 11 novels to read that spring semester along with the rest of my homework and too many extra curricular activities, so a poor skimming of the first 100 pages or so was as far as I got.

It's funny to find myself enjoying a book that I had not enjoyed two times before, but this is certainly not the first time this has happened to me.

I always tried reading books that were a little too advanced for me when I was younger, for two reasons: I loved reading and was always looking for something new to read, and because I would certainly take pride in reading a book that was considered too difficult for someone my age.

Against my mother's advice I tried reading A Tale of Two Cities in 5th grade.  I had seen the Wishbone episode with the terrier starring as Charles Darnay and didn't think it could be too hard.  That book was soon set aside after reading a confusing chapter about a knitting woman and references to a revolution I hadn't studied yet.

In junior high I slaved over the pages of Emma after loving the movie with Gwyneth Paltrow.  I finished it, but the story was much richer and easier to understand when I read it over again in high school.

In high school I spent over a year reading War and Peace off and on.  As an adult I read Anna Karenina with much less effort and better comprehension.

As I considered these misadventures and failures in reading, I thought about my spiritual life.  In high school I got emotional in an apologetics class when the teacher suggested that children didn't really understand the gospel when they accepted Christ at a young age.  I spoke up and shared that my conversion experience as a four year old was very real, and I knew that I had accepted the gospel to the level I was capable of at that age.  At that time in my life, I was seriously doubting areas of my faith, but deep down I knew that the day I accepted Jesus as my Savior in our apartment in South Carolina, something had changed and altered the course of my life.

I think saying someone could not have a genuine spiritual experience when they are a small child would be like saying I could not read when I failed to finish A Tale of Two Cities in 5th grade.  I was certainly capable of reading at that time, and had been reading for a number of years already, but conceptually there were ideas I could not yet grasp fully.  As I advanced in my understanding and experience of the world, more and more books have opened up to me, but I was not less of a reader as a 6-year-old than I am now.  The day words began to have meaning instead of being mysterious symbols I could not comprehend, I became a reader and have been one ever since.

Similarly, I think our spiritual journeys often parallel the experience I had with reading.  When I accepted Jesus at four, there were many concepts and truths I didn't understand fully or even knew existed.  Grace and sanctification, joy and trust, propitiation and redemption.  Words that I could never have defined for you on that couch in South Carolina, but Jesus was starting a work in my heart even then.

As we grow in our faith there are often watershed moments.  When I first began to really understand grace, I had already been a Christian for a very long time.  It was a face-palming moment.  How could I have been so blind to a grace that has been here all along?  This concept is so integral to my faith. Why had I fought against it for so many years?

The longer we are Christians, the more time we have to understand a God so big and so great that even after we have spent thousands of years with Him in heaven we will only have dipped our toes into the unfathomable depths of His being.

There is no shame in recognizing how much you didn't understand about your faith when you first started, whether as a child or much later.  There is no shame in realizing how wrong you may have been about God even as you grew to love Him.

Sometimes I think in church we recommit ourselves to God over and over again, not just as an adjustment in the trajectory towards Him, but in face-reddening shame, feeling like we were never Christians in the first place.  Sometimes this may be true, but I think we are missing the fact that we are works in a process of sanctification.  No acceptance of the gospel equals spiritual perfection.  If that were true, we'd all need a do-over because none of us are perfect.  That's why we need Jesus.

If I had been told I didn't understand reading as a child because I couldn't yet read Tolstoy or Dickens, I probably would have quit right then.  If teachers thought they had to have their students reading Paradise Lost in kindergarten, they wouldn't try teaching children to read at all.

I think we do this with children or the childlike when teaching spiritual truths and concepts.  Children's ministries suffer when people think that children can't fully understand the gospel.  People with disabilities can be neglected altogether because they do not have the attention span to sit through a normal Sunday school presentation and tend to be disruptive.  Jesus was willing to share the good news to people of all levels.  He asked for the little children to be brought to him.  He stuck with the disciples even though they repeatedly misunderstood His teachings and calling.  In fact Jesus even said we have something to learn from the way children accept the gospel, "I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."  Luke 18:17

God doesn't expect us to get everything right at the moment of salvation, so we can rest knowing that our spiritual experiences are genuine even if we don't have all the pieces yet.  We can go forth and share the gospel with confidence knowing that we are all works in progress, and newer, deeper spiritual experience doesn't negate the effect the gospel has already had on our lives.

It's not failure when we admit we don't understand everything.  Knowing that we don't know everything is the posture of a learner.  The only failure is in refusing to learn and grow beyond where you are currently.

If I never moved on from Dr. Seuss and Curious George to read deeper and more complicated works of literature, my life would be less rich and my understanding of the world far narrower.  I would not have ceased to be a reader, but I would have missed out on so much.

So let's run further up and further in, chasing God through our lives, seeking to understand Him better and better each day.  Some days we may feel like giving up, as I did reading novels that were out of my depth, but I promise, those moments where God reveals to you something you never understood before but struggled with your whole life, those moments are worth the journey and the struggle to get there.

when we don't want to read: moving from apathy to prayer

21 Christian men were beheaded this weekend by the Islamic State.  It’s trending on Facebook as Christian friends across America share their horror and a call to pray for our brothers and sisters that are being persecuted and killed.  21.  And that’s just the deaths that were made public.  Who knows how many Christians have died anonymously today, their churches burned down, dying in the darkness of a brothel, or beaten to death for not denying Christ.  

But I brush past it.  I look to other posts about SNL’s 40th anniversary or a baby’s birthday or anything, anything else to help me forget the distant horror and my inability to prevent these things from happening to my brothers and sisters.

I shudder at my apathy, my attempts to move on before sitting with this tragedy and praying for the ones who lose everything for the gospel.  The gospel that I have the audacity to say means everything to me as well.

So I stop, I try to think, make myself reflect.

I think about my family.  My family.  The one thing that helps me connect the dots of empathy when others suffer.  What if my husband was on that video?  What if today my daughter was stolen from me and sold into slavery?  The stabs of pain that rise instinctively in my heart make the souls of sisters who lost their husbands, brothers, fathers today appear in my mind and rest in my heart. Screams buried in pillows and unconsolable weeping on the floor.  Crying out to God for vengeance, to God for mercy.  Or no words, just Spirit groaning that we cannot, dare not utter.

When I stop and think, and reflect on the God these men died for so bravely... I understand the God in my Bible better than I did before I woke up this morning.  I understand why God will judge and avenge.  What father will not seek justice when his children are brutally murdered before him?

I understand better why the Jews cried out for God to repay their enemies after they were oppressed and killed by their adversaries.  I understand why Jesus is coming back and will separate the wheat from the chaff.  Because my soul wants vengeance, I want justice for every innocent person that dies worldwide.  For every child that dies without a choice, for every child that loses their parents, for every wife that loses her husband, for every parent that loses their children.  I want to scream, “No more!  Jesus, precious Jesus, please come back!  No more bloodshed!”

And then I think about Jesus Himself, dying brutally on the cross, no stranger to suffering.  Dying for us, dying that mercy could be extended even to the ones who killed Him.  

Mercy.  My God, the God of the 21, is not only a God of judgment.  But a God of mercy.  And He waits, in His waiting for judgment there is mercy.  I remember that there is mercy because all the murderers and the murdered are all children of God, sons of Adam and daughters of Eve. He gives one more minute, one more hour, one more day, one more year.  One more chance for the murderers, the ones who murder innocent people and the ones who murder in their heart, for the adulterers, for the liars, for the coveters, for the abusers, for the thieves, for the gossipers, for the apathetic, for the careless, for the victims.  One more chance for every one to come to Him, because He made us, He loves us, and wills that none should perish for eternity even though we die temporarily... He has mercy because our eternity is hanging in the balance, and He wants us to spend it with Him.

Most days judgment and mercy are hard to reconcile.  But today, if I stop and reflect, they are clearer than ever before.  Today I’m praying for justice, and praying for mercy.  Today I’m praying for comfort and peace for the sufferers, and that the oppressors would meet the Prince of Peace.  I’m praying that the blood that was spilled would not be forgotten, and trust that God who sees even the sparrow fall, will not let it be in vain.

Today I will not pass by, and will petition the God who sees all to have mercy and judgment in His time.

this child in His hands

Less than a year ago I was crying out to the Lord asking Him to give us a Samuel that we could give back to Him.

A few months later I was crying in the bathroom, holding a positive pregnancy test.

Today, we are a month and half from our due date, and I'm still having a hard time grasping the fact that our daughter is moving around inside me and we will soon, Lord willing, be holding her in our arms.

I've learned so much about how God really is the One holding all things together over this past year, and how little I'm in control.

When we got pregnant, it was so easy to worry.  At the beginning you have little assurance that everything is going okay with your little lentil-sized baby.  You can't hear the heartbeat, you can't feel her kicking, and the doctor has very little to say to you other than "I hope your nausea and vomiting subsides soon."

There is so much fear that you will do something, eat something, or that something else you can't control will happen to you that will cause you to lose this baby you have waited for, this baby that you prayed for.

And I found myself right where I was in November, on my knees, asking God to do what I could not.  This time it was begging Him to sustain the life that He created inside me.

As I gave Him control over our baby's life, I realized that this wasn't something I was just going to do while I was pregnant, but something I'm going to need to do for the rest of our daughter's life, no matter how long or how short it is, for each day that God gives her. He must be the one sustaining her and giving her life.

There are so many things in this world that can cause her harm, and I won't have the power to protect her from them.  Even if I kept her cooped up in the apartment with me for the rest of my life like a Miss Haversham she could still get hurt, still get burned by a broken world.

And the more effort I expend trying to control her life, that will only give her reason to hate me and the unreasonable constraints I try to impose on her for her safety.

God does use parents as a means of provision and protection for the little ones of creation.  But He never intended that we try to become the gods of their lives by controlling them and protecting them from all harm.  We couldn't do it even if we tried.  We are helpless to give them all that they need, but God can and will be the everything for them that we could never be.

It's comforting to me to remember that the deep and overwhelming love I feel for this little one inside me is not even a fraction of the love that God has for her.  He loves her more than I ever can, and that is someone I can trust with taking care of her when I am powerless and weak.

"Now they were bringing even infants to Him that He might touch them.  And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them.  But Jesus called them to Him, saying, 'Let the children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.  Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.'"  Luke 18:15-17

I pray that God would protect me from ever hindering His little one from coming to Him, and I hope that everyday will be a chance for me to bring our baby girl to Him that He might touch her and make her whole.

on passing, love, and regret.

Great Grandma Smit passed away a few months ago.

It was hard not to feel pangs of guilt, the aftermath after she took her last breath.  Grandma was always quiet.  She said very little and usually just sat watching you play and chatter away with your cousins.

As I heard the stories and the memories about Grandma, I felt not just, "I miss Grandma," but "I missed Grandma."  I missed her while she was here, I missed out on getting to know her.

Even though I didn't see Grandma that much growing up, over the course of my life there were many parties that I could have sat next to her, asked her about her childhood, what it was like having eight children, what she missed most about Grandpa, why she loved Jesus, and so on.

But I didn't.  I was young enough to care more about presents, care more about me.  And the older I got, I didn't always know where to start.  So being with Grandma meant giving her a hug and telling her it was good to see her, but that was all.

Despite the regret, there are memories.  Touches of Grandma that thread through my childhood and my sibling's childhood too.  The receiving blankets that she crocheted borders to, wrapped around all of my brothers and sisters as infants.  The washcloths she made that wiped off sticky hands and counter tops   The handmade caramels that were the most important part of the Smit Family Christmas to my brother Isaac and I.  We would stuff our dress clothes pockets with them and savor them for days.

And one day, when I was small, she knelt down on the floor with me and helped me make a puzzle that was too difficult for me to do on my own.  Grandma was a master when it came to puzzles.  I never would have finished that Little Mermaid puzzle without her help.

As I reflected over the passing of Grandma, I wondered if regret was unavoidable.  Whether we don't spend enough time with our loved ones, don't listen enough, don't say I love you enough, or the last thing we said isn't what we wanted it to be... our lives are tinged with regret.  We just aren't as perfect as we want to be, and that unavoidably affects our relationships, especially with those who are closest to us.

A fallen world means fallen relationships, and we feel the sting most bitterly at the passing of loved ones.  What hope is there, when hurt is unavoidable?

As we sat in Grandma's funeral service, I was struck with the depth of her spirit and her love as I heard stories from the pastor and family members.  When Grandma died she left a legacy of love for Jesus and her family, and that legacy lives on today.  I experience it in my family and my extended family... and it is getting passed onto to the next generation already, to our cousins' children and my brother's newborn son Ezra.

This legacy is bigger than the regret in my own heart.  Through the very act of fellowship with family, through loving them and being present with them, we pass on their legacy of love to the ones they loved so dearly.  And one day, we too shall pass away and be reunited with Christ, our loved ones, and there will be no more tears.  The regret is soothed by being with family and making right what was wrong in the past through neglect or selfishness.

Not all families though have a legacy of Christ, or some parts of your family may be more broken than others.  The amazing thing is that the love, the legacy can start with you.  Anyone of us can choose to be the ones to break cycles of dysfunction and familial pain and be that Grandma or Grandpa.... the one that generations from now your children's children will remember and say, we are where we are because Great Grandma loved Jesus.

Abraham was a man like that.  He responded to the call of God and left a history of paganism to become a spiritual father to thousands of generations who love God.

Let the love of Christ take root in your own heart and share it with those you love.  You can change your family's story by letting the legacy begin with you. 

I am learning through all of this, to work on being present with those I love.  To focus, cut down distractions and cherish the moments because young or old, none of us are guaranteed to live tomorrow, next week, or next year.  I want to share the love of Christ everyday through word and deed.

 I  am thankful for Grandma.  I will remember her love for Jesus and her family.  And I look forward to giving her a hug again one day in heaven.

every day beautiful, every day sacred

I've been listening to the soundtrack to the movie Amelie repeatedly on Spotify the last couple days. Sometimes I like to think of different songs as the soundtrack to my life, and the Amelie songs by Yann Tiersen are so wonderful. They are light, they are moving, they are happy, they are sad. They run the gamut of daily emotions and color them beautifully. They make the everyday seem extraordinary.

If you have seen the movie Amelie, the heroine makes everyone's lives around her better in beautiful, caring ways. Amelie doesn't live in extraordinary circumstances. She has a mostly normal life, works at a diner. Doesn't really get to travel or do incredible things, but that doesn't stop her from living creatively and finding adventures.

I love how Amelie's care for the people around her makes her world beautiful. The everyday goes from being normal and commonplace to lovely and meaningful.

While the movie has some questionable content, the overall theme makes me want to make life beautiful where I am too. I want to live each day purposefully for Jesus and others. I want every day to be sacred.

Last night I was feeling down about work. Tim and I listened to a sermon by Tim Keller. Keller preached on Ephesians 6:5-9. In the passage Paul is addressing the relationships of slaves to masters and masters to slaves. Keller illuminated the context and showed that in many ways the slavery of Paul's day was more like our present day work situations than the slavery we are familiar with. We are supposed to honor our masters, our mangers as unto the Lord. Unto the Lord. He said that the way to make work bearable, make life meaningful, is to work for Jesus. Whether you are mopping floors or running a Fortune 500 company, you will only experience true joy and purpose when Jesus is your Manager, your Captain.

Keller did a good job explaining why every job is important in God's economy, from the lowest to the most praiseworthy of occupations. Our world simply cannot function if it isn't maintained, cleaned, managed, and cared for. Every task is important. Every work is beautiful when accomplished for Jesus.

Honestly, I felt frustrated when we were finished listening to the sermon. I thought, “Thanks Keller, that's easy for you to say. You are a pastor, your direct manager is God. Don't tell me how to do my job better, you don't know what it is like to be me.”

Not a cool reaction, but that is what I felt, even though I knew it was wrong. I felt convicted, I know there are unhealthy ways that I work and I don't usually work as unto the Lord. I don't work like I'm working for Jesus.

Tim and I debriefed the sermon together and when I woke up this morning I prayed, “Jesus, please help me work today for You.”

I felt more at peace today at work, enjoyed the people I serve, and felt all around better. Really better.

If it is so much easier for me to just work for Jesus, why the pain, why the anger?

Part of the struggle for me, and its a struggle I've been dealing with for years... I don't want to admit that I may be called to something that is hard for me, something that I don't love. I have felt that admitting that I'm called to something that I didn't dream of doing makes me a failure, and that ultimately I'll just be unhappy. I don't want to give up my perceived right to my own calling (which, if I'm the one doing the calling, it isn't much of calling anyway, is it?). I don't want to give away my right to a future I'm satisfied with. I don't want to give up my dreams to anyone, even God.

This morning, I again gave to God these things that I hold on to. My dreams and hopes for the future. I know that I just suffocate them when I hold them in my grubby hands.  They are always safer in His.

I had a bit of a personal watershed moment after listening to the sermon when I realized that I struggle with calling, purpose, and so on because I see every path as leading to a different me. There is the childless Abby that works a job she doesn't really like but gets to do some cool things because she has less responsibilities, maybe writes a book, learns a little French, has a dog, goes to Europe with Tim, and teaches a little poetry on the side.

There is the mother Abby, five babies in tow, enjoying the wonder of childhood and helping out at church with Tim. She doesn't get to do things she dreamed of doing but its ok because she has five cute little Tim's to care for and love.

There is the Abby that gets any number of the above things and isn't happy with any of them. And wonders what it is she really wanted in the first place.

Those are just a few examples of my bat-brained thinking, but it really effects how I live my everyday. Last night I realized that I need to stop thinking of the two possible Abbys, or three, or four and just focus on being the one Abby God has called me to be. The Abby that follows Jesus above all things. To not compartmentalize my future into possibilities based on what life events occur. Follow Jesus, do the things I love for Him. You have no idea how freeing that simple idea is to my heart.

Tim reminded me to just look at what my calling is for today. Love Jesus, love the people around me. Today that meant going to work, tomorrow it may too, but it doesn't mean that today's day is the way it will be forever.

This is a new perspective on life for me, one that I have known to be truth but not truly lived. This is a work in progress of course, even as I write this I feel the old doubts creeping back in, struggling to master my heart.  But I desire to make the everyday beautiful, sacred through loving Jesus and loving others. It doesn't matter if every dream doesn't pan out perfectly or if any do. It doesn't matter if I die tomorrow, am paralyzed in a year, never have children, or never set foot on the streets of Paris. It doesn't matter if I work in the same place for twenty more years, if I never write a book. Jesus is greater and the only thing that matters to me is that I grow closer to Him and see His face. My life can be simple and beautiful because Jesus is my Captain. The rest is gravy.

Son of God

The child who came to heal the brokenhearted
A baby born to reconcile the world
He came to die that we might know the Father
The arm of the Lord has been revealed

His sheep He came to rescue from the slaughter
And humbled Himself a Man that knew no sin
Mary's heart was pierced with deepest sorrow
As her baby Son was stretched upon the tree

Son of God
Has come to earth
Glory to the Father
The baby lies
Asleep in the manger
Born to die
Prince of Peace and Savior

We knew Him not, despised and forsaken
What good could come from Nazareth
From Galilee a King has risen
Born as a Man, Lord of all

At His name every knee will bow
Glory to God in the Highest
Every tongue confess the name of Jesus
Christ is the Lord, Christ is the Lord

Son of God
Has come to earth
Glory to the Father
The baby lies
Asleep in the manger
Born to die
Prince of Peace and Savior


You can hear the music that goes along with this poem and other Christmas songs at our Bandcamp page, http://timandabby.bandcamp.com.

I hope you have a blessed Christmas celebrating our Savior's birth with your loved ones.  Merry Christmas!

Christmas: Our darkness meets the Light

I was listening to Christmas music on the way home from work today, and found myself selecting melancholy songs about winter and songs about the birth of Christ in minor keys.   And I wondered, why do I feel bad every Christmas?  Why does Christmas fill me with joy, and yet such sadness at the same time?

I feel like I end the Advent season every year feeling like, "Great, I missed it again."   I feel like Christmas is such a great opportunity to celebrate Jesus' birth and instead I'm confronted by many failures.

All it takes is a couple Christmas parties where I feel like my words could have been kinder, better chosen.  Recognition of my deep bitterness about cold weather and a complaining spirit.  And, don't get me started on my own personal materialism.  Walking through the malls I find gifts for others and a thousand desires for things I didn't even know I wanted.  My heart gets smaller with each shopping trip and my will to make donations gets weaker.

These things crowd out Baby Jesus so easily.  Christmas Day arrives and I wonder, is there room for Him in my heart?

As I continued driving down the expressway, slowly albeit with millions of red lights guiding me home, I wondered.  Maybe it's good.  Maybe this season reveals the darkest parts of my character because they contrast so starkly to the light that was born to redeem them.  Maybe it's important for me to realize all the Herod, Grinch and Scrooge-like qualities that fight in my heart and remind myself just how much I need Jesus.

Maybe a reminder of my weakness will help me remember just how important Christmas is.  Remember that Jesus came to earth to save a wretch like me.  A time to reflect on the purity of that sinless, newborn baby born into a world of sin and suffering.  A God who did not leave us helpless, but came to save.  That gives me hope and fills my soul with joy.

"For unto us a Child is born, to us a Son is given; and the government shall be upon His shoulder, and His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."  Isaiah 9:6

The Child was born to ransom our sinful hearts.  In our weakness we can rejoice that One came to rescue us, Jesus our Emmanuel, God with us.

"The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them a light has shined."  Isaiah 9:2

May the light of Jesus fill your heart and soul with joy and comfort this Christmas and every day this year.

the impossible

Is anything impossible with God?

I don't think so, but I don't live that way.

I realized that there are many things I write off as impossibilities.

This week I talked about Jesus with someone, someone who was one of the last people I would have expected to have a conversation about faith with.

Last night I felt like God was present in the conversation we had at youth group, on a night when I expected that no one would show up.

Tim told me about a quote in the book "The Forgotten God" recently that really spoke to me.  Here it is:

"It's easy to use the phrase "God's will for my life" as an excuse for inaction or even disobedience.  It's much less demanding to think about God's will for your future than it is to ask Him what He wants you to do in the next ten minutes.  It's safer to commit to following Him someday rather than this day."- Francis Chan

I think God works mightily in the 10 minutes we are given at a time when we are willing to listen to the Holy Spirit.  The conversations and actions that make up each day are of use to our Lord when we are willing to give them up to Him.

I think the Spirit prompts us to speak to the lost around us.  I get caught up thinking about what I'm going to do for God in the future and neglect those around me, especially the difficult ones... the ones that seem so far away.

No one is too far from our God this side of death.

I am ashamed that I have judged some hearts as being "too hard" when I choose who I am going to share Christ with.  Somehow I have gotten into the habit of picking out what appear to be "spiritual softballs" and avoid sharing with the ones who are more abrasive, or seem more hard-hearted.

Since when was I allowed to judge an "impossible soul"?

Jesus didn't operate this way when He was on earth.  In fact, He seemed to get along quite well with the tough ones and struggled with the "righteous."  The upstanding people around him wondered what Jesus could see in His motley crew of redeemed sinners, and didn't realize that they were the ones whose hearts were hardened.

Jesus tells a parable about the sower, who threw his seed without partiality on the path, the rocky ground, amongst the thorns, and on good soil.  The sower did not judge the soil but gave the seed to each in good measure.  In the end, only the seeds in the good soil grow and they are a picture of the ones who "hear the word, accept it, and bear fruit."

Rather than being generous with the word like Jesus, I pre-judge the soil and make my own decisions.  Unfortunately, I'm missing the point.  I can only see the outward appearance and not judge the condition of the heart.

The hardest of outward appearance, even the hardest attitude toward God may be hiding a heart that is crying out for Jesus.

Far be it from me to judge who is ready and who is not.

"The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance."  1 Peter 3:9

God wishes that all His people were saved,and I think I'm ready to share with them now.  I pray that God will lead all of us, the likely and and the unlikely closer to Him.

"For nothing is impossible with God."  Luke 1:37

has death won?

Yesterday I got a phone call from my mom two minutes into my morning commute. A couple had been shot close to our home in a car the same color as ours, and she called to make sure we were alive. We are, and I assured her Tim and I were safe and sound.

As I made a left onto the entrance ramp, listening to "Concerning a UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois," I saw a pigeon laying on its belly on the side of the road, slowly turning itself around. The last time I saw a bird like that was a robin I rescued when I was nine. I named him Robbie, and he died the next morning. I started to tear up, and forced them back so I could keep my eyes on the road.

Last night, we heard about the bombing and shootings in Oslo. My heart goes out to the people of Norway, to the country of our great-great-grandparents. May God comfort your souls and give you peace.

It is hard to think about death. A serious reflection on it usually brings tears and distress. What if I lose someone I love? What if I die violently? What if I never get to say goodbye?

Death is distressing because we were not created for it. We were made to live forever. But we sinned, and now death is the doorway to eternity, whether that leads us to separation from God or unity with Him forever.

Death cuts us off from everything we have ever known, from the people and community we love, the places we cherish, the joys we cannot seem to live without. But it also reunites us to the ones who have gone on before, to the One we walked with in the garden at the beginning of time.

I would be lying to say death doesn't scare me silly at times. I'm not very bereaved, and it is difficult to know that I will lose people I love. In some ways I think that is ok. Knowing that death will come sooner or later, I want to live life to the fullest now. More importantly, I want to share with everyone around me the secret to eternal peace, love, joy, and life. Jesus Christ.

That being said, I don't want to fear death. Death comes to all and I know Jesus, the Savior. He conquered death by rising again. And He will not allow me to slumber in the ground forever. I will be reunited with Him for eternity. The One who loved me and you so much He died a violent death to save us. I don't need to be afraid of death.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7

Jesus will also make all things right one day. He will wipe away our tears, and there will be no more death- no more bombings, no more shootings, no more cancer, no more starvation, no more suffering. There will be justice, there will be peace.

His heart breaks to see us on earth, suffering under our sin and the sins of others. Suffering for things that we don't deserve, for things that occur because the world is broken not because we are being punished.

A boy in Brooklyn was murdered recently walking home from summer camp. It wracked me up inside as I thought about his little body in pain as he died, to think about his parents. His parents will never be the same. Everyday they are going mourn, everyday they will wonder why they didn't do something differently. I couldn't stop thinking about him, and worrying about the little people I love. And I want justice, I want justice for that little boy and his family. I want justice for the people of Norway.

I don't know where you are today. Maybe someone you love has just passed away, maybe someone you love is battling cancer, maybe someone you love was just diagnosed with autism, maybe someone you love is far from God.

Maybe you don't know how to reconcile yourself to God when you are surrounded by suffering.

Jesus understands. He walked on this earth. He loved those who were suffering, and suffered Himself. And He has conquered death because of His deep, unquenchable love for you. Give Him the burdens you are too weak to carry anymore. Give Him your fears about death. Give Him your suffering.

These are things I am working through. I need to give Him my fear, my worries, my terror, my suffering.

He can carry us. Death will never win, Jesus has already defeated it through the cross.

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." Revelation 21:4

jewel and dostoevsky

Last night Tim and I took a trip to Jewel for a few things. We quickly found our orange juice, couldn't find goat milk ( I think we are in the middle of a goat lock-out), and settled for almond milk.

We waited in line at the express self check-out, and walked out the automatic door. In the cart corral we were cut off by a little old lady with a do rag handkerchief on her head, a skirt, and white socks with dark shoes. She looked up at us in surprise, and Tim said "Hi!" She looked frazzled and hurried out with her cart and shopping bag.

As we walked to our car she booked across the parking lot at a suprisingly high speed, which prompted Tim to say, "She's making a break for it!"

We watched this old lady on the run with her cart, wondering if she would be caught, eyes darting from side to side, nervously checking the automatic lock wheel to see if it would stop her run from the law. We passed her on our way out of the parking lot, still trucking her away across it like an wild animal was chasing her.

I kind of wish in hindsight that I had gotten out of the car and asked her if she needed help, or a ride to get home. But I didn't. And I wonder how she and the cart are getting along today.

The old lady reminded me a bit of Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment. He plotted out his crime so well, he would never be caught. But the guilt of it weighed him down and drove him insane. I read that book my first year at Trinity for Modern European Literature with Dr. Baxter. After class, before soccer practice I would read a couple chapters on my bunk bed, and then fall asleep. I don't think it was eye fatigue or laziness (that happened with other books), that book was laced with so much suffering and guilt it made you feel hopeless, like you were Raskolnikov's accomplice in the pawnbroker's murder. I fell asleep from the mental burden of it all. I like to re-read books, but I don't know that I will re-read that one again any time soon.

Over 4th of July Tim and I saw "Tree of Life" at the movie theater. I don't really want to give away anything about it in case you haven't seen it, but I will say that I loved Malick's portrayal of guilt. In the movie the boy does something he is ashamed of, and as he walks home his mother is standing outside waiting for him. She says nothing, only looks at him. He looks at her and walks to the house. He says he wants to be like his brothers again, to feel innocent. That whole part gave me chills. I know that feeling. I know what it is like to be guilty, and to feel like everyone knows it. To feel alone, and exposed. To feel afraid. To long for innocence.

My favorite song in high school was Switchfoot's "Innocence Again." I wanted to be pure. I wanted to be free from my guilt riddled mind. I was always good at confession and beating myself up over sin, but not so good at accepting grace.

I think there is some grace in guilt itself. If we never felt guilty for stealing grocery carts, harming others, impure thoughts, or disobeying our parents, we would never feel the need for a Savior. We would feel as though we had it together. Feel like we could make it on our own. As people we would hurt each other more than we do now. Guilt keeps us from committing sins that we won't get caught for, because the burden is still there. The punishment is a tormented soul.

But we can't stop there. We aren't meant to live in guilt and self-hatred. God will forgive us and extend His grace to us. He is merciful, and He wants us to be re-born in Him. We cannot earn that forgiveness through self-inflicted brow beating. It's free because of Jesus, because He loves us.

Jesus loves you. And He doesn't want you to carry around your guilt anymore. Drop it at His feet, confess and walk in His love. He wants you to be free from sin, and live in Him.

"And I said: "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: "Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for." Isaiah 6:5-7

is image everything?

Today I was reflecting on the old Sprite commercials, "Image is nothing. Thirst is everything. Obey your thirst." I mistakenly remembered them saying this, "Image is everything. Obey your thirst." So much for my long term memory.

Even though Sprite was technically telling us that image was nothing, drink Sprite, they still created an image. An "I don't care what I drink, I just drink what pro basketball stars drink" image. They wanted you to think drinking Sprite would make you cool. Image.

Our culture is obsessed with image. Everywhere you look people are branding themselves, dressing to look the part of something they find cool. You want people to think something of you or about you when they see you. I'm no exception to this.

I like to dress artsy, I want you to think, "That girl must be something cool, like a writer, artist, musician or something. Does she shop at Anthropologie?" I want you to think I don't try too hard, when I secretly spend too much mental energy picking out what I'm going to wear... to the point it haunts my early morning dreams.

I hate the idea of wearing something that could accidently distort the image I try to carefully craft. What if this outfit looks frumpy? What if I look too sporty? What if I look lame?

You can find this sort of mentality everywhere you look. Magazine covers, television shows, movies, books, blogs, individuals on the street. Either they are invading your subconscious with a more stylish image than you could ever hope to be, or they are straight up telling you "5 Hot Looks for Your Summer."

I'm in a Bible study right now with women from my church. We are reading Beth Moore's book "So Long Insecurity." The book convicts me more than I would like to admit. Our obsession with the image we portray, whether it is based on our looks or talents is a best friend of our insecurities.

We think that an image that accurately portrays who we want to be or who we think we are will make us happy, and it never will.

Last Sunday we watched a video about the persecuted church. We saw images of Christians who had been brutally beaten, Christians who had terrible scars from lashings and acid. All because they followed Jesus and wouldn't deny His name.

That video hit me so hard. I worry about my appearance, and these brothers and sisters are infinitely more beautiful because of the scars they bear for Christ. They are suffering now, but when this life, this life that is but a breath passes away, they will reign with Christ in glory. How much more satisfying is it to work for eternity, than for the things of this world that pass away from season to season?

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh." 2 Corinthians 4:7-11

"So that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our bodies." There is an image that we should bear above all others, the image of Christ. Let's lay aside the images of this world that so easily ensnare us, and become lights for Jesus. May Christ always and forever be our identity.

patience

I fake patience well. It's easy to say I'm waiting patiently, easy to nod serenely when others ask how long... even though I'm asking the same question.

It is hard to wait. I was born impatient. Babies cry for milk, cry to be changed, cry to be held, etc. When mom doesn't come to the rescue, we cry louder.

Sometimes I wonder if God ever considered giving me a pacifier to stop my hissy fits.

We live in a fast culture, instant gratification. People have said this many times before, and it's still true. We easy bake, take out, credit card, cash now, instant play our way through life. And we wonder why our days slip through our fingers like sand.

As a kid Christmas and birthdays could never come quickly enough. I spent many hours laying on the floor paging through toy catalogues circling, initialing and starring toys that I wanted to subtly hint to Grandma, Nana, and Mom that I had something I wanted other than clothes for Christmas.

I do that with God too, I ask over and over for things. And I think that is ok. He is our Fatherand He wants to give us good things. Things like marriage, babies, homes, healed relationships, purpose, inspiration, direction are not bad.

I run into trouble though when the thing becomes the most important thing each day, the asking, the pining. When I become dissatisfied with the way things are because I want it now.

I'm impatient. Impatience leads to impulsive action. It can also lead to immobility- it can be difficult to move forward when we are impatient with God. Maybe He wants to teach us something before He brings us to our soul mate, to our first child, to our next job, to the next chapter.

Maybe our way isn't right. Maybe patience would be easy if He really was in charge. Maybe patience could allow us to live in the moment, use every second where we are for Him. Maybe we could stop looking around the corner and see the flowers, the birds, the sky, the grass where we are now.

"Taste and see that the Lord is good."

Even though many things in this life require waiting, most good things really do... the best thing is always available. Jesus.

"Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with Me." Revelation 3:20

Jesus has waited patiently for you. Come to Him, sit at His feet and wait patiently before Him. He is worth everything.

a quiet heart

Sometimes the darkness feels too great. Everything feels wrong and nothing feels light. Things you once clung to with confidence crumbled, and the sweet is now bitter to your taste.

And now your heart aches, not from one wound, but from a hundred little disappointments that surround your tired soul.

Busyness of life and stress have threatened to consume me. I've sat and cried repeatedly for the smallest of things that I wasn't strong enough for. My soul was troubled.

"You believe in God, believe also in Me."

I started reading Elisabeth Elliot's devotional "Keep a Quiet Heart" today.

In the opening chapter she talks about how Jesus slept through the storm, a storm that absolutely terrified his fisherman disciples. Elliot writes about how Jesus went through all of His life with a quiet heart because He had what Kierkegaard called purity of heart- to will one thing. Elliot says that one thing was the will of His Father.

I want to will one thing too. My Father's will.

If I am willing His will, the hundred little troubles will lose their heaviness when they are seen with My Father's eyes.

A difficult person- a chance to show God's love.

Trials at work- a chance to put others first and serve the least of these.

Busy with others- a chance to put others before myself.

Negative self image- a chance to find confidence in the One who made me.

Too often I allow the busyness I so despise to keep me from being with the One who can get me through each day, my Lord. I must find time to quiet myself before Him each day and all day that I may rest quietly with Him through the storm.

strength in weakness

I hate failure. And failure is where I am. I perceive failure in every movement of my being.

Friendships. Fail.

Work. Fail.

Art & Writing. Fail.

Housekeeping. Epic fail.

I was beating myself up today over all of the things I just can't seem to get right. Why do I still struggle? Why am I still so weak? Why am I a failure?

I sat and cried and pondered the things I haven't accomplished. The things I have messed up. The people I have offended. The unused potential. The distance between me and my God.

"But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

These verses breathe new life into me. Christ's power is made perfect in my weakness. It shouldn't come as any surprise to me that I fail, that I'm weak, that I can't do it on my own. In fact, there is grace in the recognition of weakness, for then in Christ I am strong.

When I am weak at work, at home, at church, in relationships... it is in those moments that Christ can be magnified as He proves Himself strong though I am weak, though I fail.

I don't need to pity myself for my weakness, and cry over my failings. I must turn my eyes upon Jesus, and rely on Him for His strength and grace in my darkness.

And in the darkness, when I have no words, the Spirit intercedes.

"Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings to deep for words." Romans 8:26

How wonderful is it that we have a Savior who is greater than all our sin? A Savior who is strong in our weakness? A Spirit that intercedes for us? A Father who loves us?

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Hebrews 4:15-16

Jesus walked on this earth and experienced life as a human being. He knows our weakness through experience, but He overcame them. He will give us grace and mercy in our time of need. How wonderful, how divine is the love of Christ for us?

This day was not easy for me, but it has brought me closer to the One who knows me by name and is strong in my weakness. May you find mercy, grace, hope, love, and strength in your Savior.

it's been awhile

So I've been away from this blog for a very long while, about a month I think.

Many things have happened since then:

1. New Year's.

2. Goals made for 2011.

3. Lessons learned.

4. Still learning.

5. Back to work.

6. A youth group retreat.

7. A trip to the dentist (insert huzzahs!)

8. Birthday parties.

9. Bears.

10. Craft projects.

11. One very cold, one degree day.

12. Giving it all back to Jesus, again.

I've been learning a lot lately... a lot about myself, and I don't like most of it. Have you ever looked at yourself in a spiritual mirror and not liked the reflection? Been there lately. The beautiful thing is, God has met me there... in my miserable selfish state I have seen my insufficiencies, and I cry out all the more, "I need You Jesus! Lord, heal me!"

I have been finding such comfort in the Scriptures, in prayer, and in the words of Oswald Chambers.

"In sanctification, the one who has been born again deliberately gives up his right to himself to Jesus Christ and identifies himself entirely with God's ministry to others." My Utmost for His Highest

That quote sums up the process I have been going through the last month, giving up my right to myself... giving up my right to my way, my dreams, my plans. Giving up to Jesus my weakness, and finding my identity in Him and service to others. It kind of hurts. But it is a beautiful pain nonetheless.

I have fooled myself too many times into thinking I am "following Christ" as I pursue my own agenda. I have spent too much time fearing what will happen if my dreams don't pan out like I hoped. I have wondered too often why am I here right now? I'm done with that garbage. Its Yours Jesus, please bring me back when I stray to my own way, its all Yours.

I feel joy welling up in my heart as I right this... how relieving to let go. Hopefully this post will remind me of that joy when I start to grasp at the things I cannot hold. I love You Lord Jesus.

It's going to be a good year.

For His glory. Forever. Amen.

God with us...

I wept during our Christmas Eve service on Friday.

I had been worrying all month about missing Jesus. At the beginning of this week my husband wisely told me I should just focus on growing closer to Him, whether I truly understood Christmas or not this year. So I spent time in prayer and study, and just focused on being with Jesus.

Then God gave me a gift on Christmas Eve. We took communion, and as I sat with the bread and grape juice... I pondered the body and the blood. The body and blood of Jesus, the baby, the man, the Messiah. Joy and sorrow together washed over my soul. I know that I can't express this completely, but Jesus was there.

And Jesus is always here. He is Emmanuel, God with us. And I get to be with Him everyday, all year, all my life, for eternity.

Christmas.

christmas is coming!

Tree is up. First snowfall. Lights are glowing. Christmas music. Chocolate. Hats, scarves, boots, and mittens. Friends. Family.

Jesus. Still trying to rethink, realize, understand, feel what it means that He came to earth as a baby 2000 years ago. Grace and Love in a manger, no crib for a bed. I love Thee, Lord Jesus. Be near me this day.

lion of judah

"And one of the elders said to me, "Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that He can open the scroll and its seven seals." Revelation 5:5

I love thinking of Jesus as the Lion of Judah. I think the contrast between Him being the Lamb of God and the Lion of Judah is beautiful. His strength and majesty, contrasted with the humility and sacrifice of His earthly ministry is so different than anything else on earth.

I love how magnificent the Lion is as a symbol. It's strong and powerful, and strikes fear into our hearts. And yet we wish we could be close to it, pet it, caress it. But it is untameable....

No one illustrated this better than C.S. Lewis in the Chronicles of Narnia. He created Aslan, who is all at once feared and loved, strong and gentle. A wonderful picture of Christ.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

I like how this describes how I want Jesus to be. I want Him to be "safe." I want to be able to tell Him what I want to do. I want to make Him promise me that I won't get hurt if I do what He asks me to. I want Him to not ask too much of me, just enough so that I will feel good about myself... not so much that I would actually have to give up anything I care about. Safe, tame.

But He isn't.... but He is good. He is the King, from the royal line of David. He can ask me to do anything, no sacrifice would be too much for Him to ask of me. He has already done everything for me.

I don't completely understand what it means that Jesus is the Lion of Judah, but I do love thinking about it.

Lion of Judah. Powerful, strong, and good.

pre-christmas thoughts

This post suddenly seems a bit ridiculous on a beautiful sixty degree day in November. Still, it is one thing that has been on my mind lately. Christmas.

I'm indulging this year in early Christmas planning. I'm hoping this will make me a bit more organized in December and allow me to make more things by hand (gifts, cookies, cards, etc). December budgets are tight and I need to be careful and wise.

More importantly though I want to prepare myself for Christmas this year so that I don't miss Jesus.

I don't know what it is about December, part of it could be having my birthday and Christmas in the same month makes me self-centered. Maybe its all the parties that create organized wrapping paper/cookie chaos. Maybe it's Santa.

Whatever it is, I struggle to focus on Jesus. I experience sadness on December 25th too often. I realize that day that I have once again wasted an advent season and missed the Christ Child.

I worry that this is a symptom of my everyday, all year. Missing Jesus.

In church the other day I was thinking about all the awesome names that Jesus has. King of Kings, the Good Shepherd, Water of Life, Emmanuel, Lamb of God, Lion of Judah. I want to know this Jesus.

Jesus. His name is filled with power, grace, and love... and I pass over it daily, tacking onto my prayers "In Jesus' name, Amen" hardly giving a thought to what it means. We pray, "In Jesus' name" because Jesus became our High Priest, our Mediator between us and the Father through His sacrifice on the cross. And it all started in the stable. The Kings of Kings in a manger. And I forget that all too often.

I want to focus the next couple months on Jesus... learning more about Him. Learning about His attributes, His names. Falling in the love with Him. Getting ready to celebrate His birthday with joy and love.

This next Christmas I may experience some sadness. Sadness because Christmas changes each year as our families get older, traditions vary and change. Even though I may feel down, I don't want to be sad because I missed Jesus this year.

Jesus, please meet me, not just at Christmas, but every day of the year. Teach me Your ways, You are Truth, You are Life, You are the Way. You are amazing, and I love You.