Potential

I can't think of a better example of potential than a new baby. Most parents when they find out they're expecting, whether for the first or 8th time, go through a gamut of emotions and imagine all the possibilities of what their new addition will mean for their lives.

We found out April we're expecting (our 3rd son,) due the first week of December, and as we pondered the potential the impact this new life will have on us, I started thinking of all the reasons our lives couldn't work with our new reality of another baby: We have a small 2 bedroom apartment, where will we put another child? How am I supposed to take care of 3 children and keep working? We just bought our car in February, and I don't think I can fit another car seat in the back... I gave God every reason why I couldn't handle this and explained the potential here was for disaster.

Zooming out of the whirlwind pregnancy comes with, I realized my default response to potential in general is treat it like a bomb, scanning it for hazards, imagining and hedging against the worst case scenario. I am then caught by debilitating anxiety  as I replay over and over how I may be affected .This makes me a great friend to have around in case of the zombie apocalypse, but not so much in any real life situation where a little hope and a smidge of faith are required to maintain a sense of peace while adjusting to what potential will actually release.

For the last 3 months, I've been held captive to this paralyzing effect. Beyond the new baby, my family had the potential for homelessness, joblessness, and losing our community looming over us, bearing down with it's full weight so often, I was reduced to tears and trembling, All practical actions were quickly accomplished, leaving me wringing sweat from my hands as we just waited for a phone call, for a miracle.

Astonishingly, they came. The phone calls, the provision, the miracle of the tangible manifestation of grace all came, like giant hands throwing the boulders I was certain would crush us clear out of view.

 

31 weeks pregnant with baby boy #3!!

I now sit in perfect peace, with all fear subsided for the first time since I last sat at the laptop to share with all of you, looking at my swollen stomach, daring to dream about my new family dynamic because of something a friend who recently visited me at work said: "What if all of this happening, and Satan trying to screw you over, was being used by God to give you everything you needed?" She was paraphrasing Romans 8:28, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose," a verse I've heard hundreds of times since I've become a believer, but this time, I heard it differently:

"And we know that God uses potential, for good or evil, as an opportunity to show off His lavish love for His children, those who've been called to the work of His glorious kingdom."

God is not afraid of potential wreaking havoc in my life. He's not afraid of the "what if's" because He is secure in His position: I am His, and He acts on behalf of those who wait for Him. (Isa 64:4) Do I suddenly have no concerns and everything I want? No, but I have all that I need and more than I even dared to ask for, because my potential for disaster was His opportunity to reveal His love and show His power and faithfulness.

I understand why this would be a hard word to accept, because so many of us are dealing with very real loss, and what seemed like God not even showing up, let alone maximizing the opportunity to do good. I think of a couple friends who lost their lives to disease this year, I think of that question, "is no where safe," we all have after witnessing what happened in Las Vegas, I feel your frustration and pain and still, I would encourage you to look for the giant hands holding you together, moving you always toward comfort, toward peace, toward love and joy regardless of what the potential of your circumstances are, and receive what He has for you, whether it be an extravagant display of power or the tender, participatory mercy Christ has on those suffering. Praying we all get to that place. Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Share

Now that my toddler is old enough to acquire for himself, we've been working on teaching the boys the value of sharing. Sometimes, they're great at it, and other times, we take a trip to meltdown city, where I play sheriff and tell my 3 year old he may not hoard toys. "All the toys belong to me," I remind him, "and I gave them to you and can also give them to him. You have to share." He doesn't like that, but he gets it.

He's actually an excellent sharer with his little brother. Here he is biting off pieces of peach for him <3

A few parenting articles have come out explaining to other parents why they don't ask their kids to share with strangers. They say in the real world, I don't just share my car with someone who wants to use it, I'm not going to force my kid to share their toy just because someone else wants it. I think this points out something about sharing society as a whole has missed: it can't be coerced or forced, but is an extension of something recognized as valuable to someone else to create an enhanced experience for all involved.

We as a culture just don't value sharing, until we need something and even then, there's a shame in having to ask for something that belongs to someone else. Maybe this is the reason the idea of a "personal relationship with Christ" is so prevalent in the church, not in the sense that your parent's faith isn't enough to establish a relationship with God for you, but that your relationship with God is YOURS and nobody gets to ask about it, let alone say anything about it.

This personalization of our faith makes us feel uncomfortable to pray out loud in a group, or share our testimony with people. When asked what our relationship with God is like, we keep it short, so as to avoid all judgement of someone who might think we're "not doing it right." Or, if we're not afraid of having our faith analyzed, we deny that sharing our stories can enhance our own or anyone else's faith, so we stay quiet.

Revelation 12 says that the accuser of the brethren, which we hold as an illustration of Satan, was hurled down, and that believers triumphed over him by the blood of Christ and the word of their testimony. (vs 10-11) Stories of faith, beginning in Exodus when Moses commanded the people to observe the Passover and tell future generations of what the Lord had done, going all the way to Paul, who by sharing his revelation of Christ even in suffering from jail stirred the new, growing church into life and what we know today, embolden our communities, give confidence where there is apprehension, and beats back the darkness that so many of us encounter on a daily basis, both for ourselves and each other.

Your stories have power. So much power that Satan works overtime to keep you thinking that they're not important or worth sharing so that our silence would create and foster disorientation, doubt and a spirit that is overwhelmed instead of one that overcomes.

I encourage you, whether your story is dramatic like mine or consistent and sweet like so many that I know, tell someone what the Father has done in your life. All of our stories are His, and He wants us to share with each other what He's done in our lives so that collectively, we would understand His heart to greater degrees, so that we would be roused by each other's victories and so with Him, we would overcome that which would seek to enslave us.

Are you listening?

Having 2 boys means I'm a mom who yells, often. My little one learned the word "no" 3 months sooner than his older brother did, and my 3 year old has known for awhile that he has a will, but only recently learned that he ALSO has power to exert that will. That means a LOT of putting my foot down, and when I ask for something, either to be done or to be ended, the world stops until it is. Usually, the boys try to distract me, engage in a power struggle or bring up something completely off topic, and I have to point out that we can't talk about or do anything else until what I asked for is done. I don't do this because I want to force or impose my will over theirs, but because I never ask without reason, without their best in mind, or without trying to teach them something.

I was actually talking about this with a friend of mine, comparing the epic meltdowns our children had that day, and she asked "why don't they just listen to us?" I couldn't help but laugh out loud, to her confusion, and remind of her a scenario that had happened a few weeks prior:

She called me with an urgent prayer request, asking that I get on my "red phone" and ask God what He wanted from her. This was actually something we had prayed about before, regularly even. When I prayed, I felt Him say, "My answer hasn't changed from last time." He had given his response, and wasn't about to change because she didn't like that answer. Before I shared what I'd heard, I asked what she felt He was saying. "I hear nothing," she said despondently.

Missionary and theologian A.W. Tozer is quoted saying, "Most Christians don't hear God's voice because we have already decided we aren't going to do what He says." Like the parent who says, "I'm not gonna yell, I told you what to do and that's it," God establishes His will and waits for us to listen. 

Now, you might be listing all the reasons why you "don't listen" to what God says to do, whether you're afraid of the result, or think you know better for your life and now just isn't the time to do ___, but at the end of the day, it boils down to the exact same reason that my kids don't listen to me: we don't obey because we don't want to.

I mentioned earlier that I don't ever ask my kids to do something without either a good reason, or the possibility that I have more information than they have. More than that, though, I desire their obedience at this age because it will create their value of my voice and their trust of me and my heart for them later, when issues far more critical than "please stop jumping on the couch" arise. In order for us hear our Father during pivotal, monumental moments, we have to begin with saying "yes," to the things He asks us for now.

If you haven't heard from God lately, I would encourage you to look at the last thing He asked you to do/not do, that you said "no" to. I would ask you to examine why you said no: Is it that you don't trust Him to have the result of said action under control? Is it that you're afraid you can't live up to what you're being called to? Does it just feel like a bad time and you can't fit this one more thing into your life? I will remind you, it wasn't raining yet when Noah built the ark, and people thought he was insane, but his obedience is what saved his family. (Heb 11:7) Whatever it is, lay down the power struggle and listen to what the Father has told you. He has more information than you do, a greater perspective than you have, and your best interest at heart.

Redirection

Having a 3 year old means I live and breathe the parenting technique called "redirection." It's where I ask my son to do something, he does something completely different and I have to physically or verbally point him back to the task at hand. "Yes buddy, I see that toy, and we can play with him later. Sit down and eat please," is said at LEAST twice, every meal. Sometimes, I feel like a broken record, repeating the same thing over and over, but he has so many concerns: What are we doing later? Are we seeing anyone? Look at this cool thing! Can we watch tv? I sigh exasperated sometimes, "Yeah hon, I see you. I hear you. We'll talk about it later, we're eating right now." 

Do you ever experience redirection in your life? It might not be the voice of your parent asking you to please sit at the table, or not to stand on the furniture, but do you feel that pull in your heart to focus on something particular, even if you're going in a completely different direction? There's a secular concept that "life will present the same situation/test over and over again until we learn the lesson." Rather than attribute the impersonal concept of "life," I see it as the loving hands of our Father, pointing us back in the direction of our calling.

Whether or not you believe in a big P "Purpose" for your life or are more like me, who thinks life is a succession of little purposes, the Bible is absolutely clear that you have an assignment (Ephesians 2:10, John 15:16, Ephesians 4, and many examples of ordinary people like Moses, David, and Paul being called.)

Even so, at this stage in my life, I don't give a lot of thought to my calling. I just want to pee in peace or make sure I brush my hair today. For you, your focus could be the amount of work you have to get done at the office or maybe you're a student, trying to finish your studies strong. Distractions abound, and when I do feel that tug on my heart, I'm quick to point them out: "God, do you see that deadline? Do you see those bills? Do you see my schedule? I don't have time to ___." 

We deaden our heart, and silence that whisper that we were made for more. We turn away from the force trying to redirect us and even attempt to disqualify ourselves. For Moses, it was, "I'm a stutterer, I can't talk to Pharaoh. Please send someone else. (Exodus 4:10-14) For me, it's I'm not cut out to be a mom, a writer, a minister. Please don't ask this of me.

For all of my maneuvering and attempting to get away, showing God all the reasons why I can't do what He's imprinted into my very soul to accomplish, I have found one thing to be true: You cannot convince God that you are unworthy of or incapable of carrying out your calling. 

"It is not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit," says the Lord of hosts. He who has called you is faithful, He will do it. (Zech 4:6/1 Thess 5:24)

Unlike human me, who eventually either succumbs to anger and threatens to throw my kid's food away if he gets up from the table again, or gives up redirecting and just declares dinner over, God is faithful to complete the good work He began in us, and that includes not letting us wander aimlessly through life with our hands up asking, "Why am I here? What purpose do I serve beyond being a cog in the economy of this world?"

You have a choice though: You can say no, and continue to push away and do what you want, further avoiding the call from within, the same call that asked Elijah, "What are you doing here?" You can continue to grind out the existence you imagine for yourself and never really be fulfilled. It is not His desire for you to look back with regret at wasted opportunities, but He cannot, and will not, make you engage. However, don't expect Him to give up gently reminding you who you are, and what you've been appointed.

The epic story that our Father has written for us, from cover to cover, screams you were made for more. You were made to take part in bringing Heaven to Earth. Your role matters. Take heart today and say "YES" to that which you have been called. 

See and Do

Having 2 little boys, I'm constantly reminded by friends, "Remember, kids are sponges, be careful what you say/do around them," a kind warning that my kids are going to pick up and then imitate my behavior. I'm sure they're referring to my language, as I've worked in the hospitality industry for close to a decade now, and it can imitate that of a sailor if I've done long days at work. Usually I see this principle in action when my toddler points and says, "Nooo" in his cute little voice, mimicking the same motion and facial expression I use when I'm telling him he can't do something, but last week, I saw it unexpectedly and it was really cute. My kids and I were snuggling on my bed, and my 3 year old said, "Mama, blow on my tummy!" I gladly obliged and as I was starting to sit up, my 15 month old promptly lifted up my shirt and blew on mine. I could not stop laughing, and neither could they.

Those smiles are dead give-aways He's definitely my son.

Like my little ones take joy mimicking me, Jesus also mimicked His Father's behavior, as illustrated in John 5, when an explanation given for His miraculous works was, "My Father is always working, and I too am working... I only do what I see the Father doing." (John 5:17,19-20) Who knew the principle of "monkey see, monkey do" was a universal one? Later, Jesus ups the ante of this principle when He says anyone who believes in Him will do the same, and even greater works than these. (John 14:12) Most of us would respond, "Wait, what?" Where does this expectation come from?

Children take the actions of the adults in their lives as license. Explicit permission, if not a map, to how one should act, speak, and live. When Jesus confidently states that we will do the same work He's doing, He equates us as sons and daughters of God, just like Him, and supposing that as we have imitated our Earthly mothers and fathers, we will also imitate our Heavenly Father.

So why does replicating the works of Jesus seem so outlandish?

First, we don't understand what Jesus meant when he told us to address God as "our Father." We don't understand what Paul was talking about when he discusses the spirit of adoption through which we were brought close to God and calls us co-heirs with Christ. (Romans 8) Because we miss these, we don't see that the same permission that was given to Jesus has now been given to us. If you struggle with this, check out You're The Best where I talk about how to root ourselves in the identity the Word says we have.

Secondly, we have heard from our parents and many other adults, "Do as I say, not as I do." We are met with active disapproval in regards to imitating them and given excuses that their behaviors are "adult." By copying them, we find ourselves in trouble. In that sense, it's no wonder why we see even things we think ourselves gifted in put on the shelf for later, when we're more "mature," or "wise." We wouldn't want to do something considered "out of our league."

Both of these are meant to strip us of our identity and our effectiveness, rendering us powerless and stealing the glory of God before it even gets a chance to be displayed. 

It's in our nature to copy our caregivers, and if we're to take what Jesus said seriously, anything you have seen the Father do, you are free to imitate. That means if grace has been poured out in your life, you have been given license to practice and teach grace in other's lives. If you have experienced healing, you have been given license to anoint and pray for the sick. If you have had provision fall out of the sky on your behalf, you have license to intercede for and bless others with the same favor you have received. If you have been set free from sin or addiction, you have been given license to proclaim freedom to captives. And the list goes on...

If you have been waiting for an invitation, a word, a sign, to become more involved in the work of the Kingdom, consider this it. You don't need to be an accredited minister to be a catalyst for the good work of our Father. God does not show you things just so that you would be amazed, but in hopes that the principle of seeing and doing would create a curiosity in your heart to mimic your Father, and see what comes of it. John, in chapter 21, said that the works of Jesus were so numerous that if written down, all the libraries of the world would be filled just by their accounts. He only imitated the Father, who now encourages you to do the same.

The Heart of Worship

My 3 year old and I don't have a lot of moments just us anymore, so when he woke up the other morning and my 15 month old was still asleep, we were both excited to spend some time one on one. He started by crawling into my bed and snuggling with me, and after a few minutes, we sat up and he sat on my lap. For the longest time, just stared at my face, the way I have stared at his so many times while counting his eyelashes or memorizing the curl in his lips. He put his still little hands on my cheeks and gazed long into my eyes, perfectly silent and before I knew it, he started kissing my cheeks, then nuzzling his face into mine. I was first tempted to check on my emails or work schedule on my phone behind his back, but I was so overwhelmed by his love, all I could do is put the phone face down and embrace him with all that I had. We remained intertwined in our cycle of affection for what felt like an hour. It was a holy, worshipful moment.

When we consider what worship is, we tend to think of icons, whether it be a cross or statues or even the picture of Jesus we have in our own mind, and the act of bowing down in reverence or raising our hands in exaltation. Even so, considering what David said in Psalm 27, there is no doubt in my mind worship is exactly what my son was practicing.

An older picture, but I will never tire of the way he looks at me <3

"One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple." (vs 4)

There are many aspects of God we might consider beautiful: His power and might, His creative ability, His character and nature, but it's the beauty of His love that provokes adoration leading to worship and causes us to gaze longingly into His eyes the way my son did mine.

This love is outlined in Psalm 139, where David recounts being knit together purposefully in his mother's womb, God's eyes seeing his unformed body, and ordaining all the days of his life before one had come to pass, and being marveled at all the thoughts the Father has toward him. (vs 13-18)

As a Mama, I have lived this very picture, of developing my little ones, holding them, counting the very hairs on their heads, and dreaming of what their futures will look like. In those moments, I yearn for them to grow up feeling as considered and cherished as David describes in the passage. There's an elation present in my spirit, as I know my feelings for my child are but a reflection of the affection the Father has for me.

Then almost immediately, I feel the pangs of those damaged parts of my heart, where I've felt forgotten by or cast aside by the Father.  The dull places that are either indifferent to or diametrically opposed to God's beauty and the concept of worship. The ache of such varied emotions reveals this world's alignment with the lie that we're on our own in terms of navigating life; the brokenness that says, "If God loves me, then why _____?"

When my 15 month old was just a wee babe

I have a number of friends who struggle with worship, and it stems from that place of questioning the love the Father has for them.  My mentor says that this is because you cannot love a God you think wants to punish you, but instead took His aggression out on Jesus. A God who is worshiped out of fear of repercussion does not produce a desire to gaze upon their beauty but to hide, to be as small and quiet and good as possible so as not to provoke their wrath. 

Thankfully, we do not worship Zeus or any other god who sits up high, waiting for us to screw up so that he can "teach us a lesson." We worship a servant King, a good Shepherd, who did not come into this world to condemn the world, but to save it, and understands in order for the end to be love, the means must be love.

Growing up, I remember singing a song called, "Heart of Worship," and honestly, I didn't think it was a great song, but the sentiment of going back to the basics of faith is a valuable one. The heart of worship is to gaze long into the eyes of a Father who has loved you to lengths you'll never know and pour out your affection, devotion and adoration as a response. He will return even more love, and you will sit entwined in glory, that magnificent beauty you were made to reflect, reveal and revel in.

Taste and See (What's in your mouth, part III)

I had a friend in college who every day, her husband ate 3 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast. His rational: "The act of eating is inefficient, so I get it out of the way all at once. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, 3 sandwiches, 20 minutes. Leaves me to not have to worry about it the rest of the day." As someone who's always loved the pageantry of a dinner party, the experience of a multi-coursed meal, I didn't get it. As a mom with kids who love food as much as I do, I understand it even less. Often, my 3 year old spends so much time enjoying something like ice cream, it turns to soup, and even then, he drinks it like a milkshake. "It's soooo good!" he'll often exclaim. The comparison struck me suddenly this week as my friend Crystal was giving me feedback on my last 2 posts.

"I am always in such a hurry to realize God's plan instead of enjoying the journey and it's timing," she confessed. It really bothered her, as we mused over the placement of our faith and the power of our words, that she has the right language, and total faith in His plan, but she wants the end result now!

Don't we all? We want to get to the healed part of the healing, the forgiven part of repentance, the other side of the valley of the shadow of death and begin our ascent up the mountain of blessing. Our microwave culture has us accustomed to instant results, and if God's perspective is reality, there's an even greater expectation that as we implement His principles, and follow His leading, our lives will immediately produce the desired results.

It can be so discouraging, then, to put into practice speaking life, put in the effort of eliminating speaking death and curses over our lives and have weeks, maybe months or a year or two go by, and not see all the fruit we'd hoped for, if we see any at all.

In those moments, it's easy to feel like our faith isn't good enough and the enemy starts pointing out all the places we're still "waiting on God." Soon, we stop enjoying the Word, and start efficiently fitting it into 5 minute devotionals, recognizing it's necessity in our lives, but not really expecting more than a feel good pep talk to get us through the day.

I wonder if this is why David admonished, "Taste and see that the LORD is good." (Psalm 34:18) Taste here means so much more than just consuming out of compulsion. It is savoring, taking time to extract every bit of goodness the Bread of Life offers. 

What does that look like?

It starts with recognizing glory. John Piper says, "The deepest longing of the human heart is to know and enjoy the glory of God. To see it, to savor it, and to show it- that is why we exist." (Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ, pg 14) He quotes Isaiah 43:6-7 which says, "I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’ and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth— everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”

You were created to encounter, revel in and reflect glory through relationship with the Father. It is difficult to find that resplendent beauty in a tight window which is easily encroached on by a late alarm, a blowout diaper or needing to get gas on the way to work. Make time to connect, really attach, to that longing as it will drive you to seek out opportunities to acknowledge and admire the Father's hand in everyday life.


Then, instead of rotely going through the motions, when engaged in spiritual disciplines, apply all your senses. I know a woman who starts every morning with scripture and taking communion. It's her way of awakening not just her eyes, but every sense to the presence of God.  Maybe for you, it's a specific candle you burn while journaling, or really taking in the smell of the air on your prayer walk. For me, it's dancing with flags during worship, where I focus not only on moving my arms, but my breath, my steps, and sometimes, the tears falling down my cheeks.

By creating a full body experience of worship, which the liturgical church has long practiced, we are forced to slow down, and that act alone, in many aspects of life, creates space to not only soak up more from our environment, but enjoy the time we spend there.

Finally, find or create a community centered on sharing God moments and faith lessons. Think of it as a divine potluck, everyone bringing what they've been feasting on. By sharing these revelations, we give ourselves and others the opportunity to consider that which we may have never been exposed to.

I am not Catholic, but last year, I started compiling prayers that saints wrote while alive. A favorite is that of St. Claude de la Columbierie, where he says, "If I have grievously offended You, My Redeemer, let me not offend you even more by thinking You are not kind enough to pardon me." For someone who deals with a lot of shame and guilt, it struck me in such a way that it knocked off the idea that I cannot forgive myself for my greatest sins and I was able to share that liberation with others.

In order to reap the harvest of our faith and experience the life that grows through the power of our words, we are to journey, ponder, experience life with God, and in that savoring, He will show Himself good, fulfilling in every way.