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.

What's in your mouth, part II

When my 3 year old was a baby, he ate almost everything and it was awesome knowing I could throw a big bunch of kale into some applesauce and it would be met with just as much joy as a wedge of watermelon. Nowadays, it feels like whole food groups he once loved have been eliminated, with near battles going down to get him to eat one fork of rice, or try ANY vegetable besides avocado.

So when  I set his plate down in front of him for dinner on Wednesday, it didn't take long for him to pick up his jacketed sweet potato and ask, "Mama, what's this?" I helped him scoop out the potato, leaving the skin in another compartment. "This is really good for you buddy, but you don't have to eat it if you don't want to." Imagine my surprise when he did eat it, and then asked for more! I gave him a high five, and told him that I thought it was really cool that he tried this new thing. His bravery in taking the first bite made him realize how good it was, and how much he wanted more.

Breakfast is a good time in my house

Last week, I talked about examining what's typically in our mouths, and getting out the gross stuff that we speak over our lives. Often, this first step is a brave one because it opens us up for disappointment, embarrassment, and requires us to let go of our default responses to the trials that come up in life and try something new and likely different than we've had before.

So now that our mouths are empty, what do we fill them with?

God's truth.  Specifically, as Patricia King puts in her book Decree, "Powerful decrees from scripture which put the Word of God to work in your life."  

Now again, I want to reiterate that this isn't the same thing as a "name it and claim it" theology or power of positive thinking, but we are beginning with the assertion that what God says about Himself, about you and I, and about our reality is truth, and we speak those things over and into ourselves, understanding that our words have power to create life or death.


As opposed to the previous example of guarding my faithless, destructive language and creating/fostering darkness in my life, when I boldly declare God as unchangeable, myself as deeply rooted and firmly established, unshakable and that my reality is that I am blessed and highly favored in the midst of uncertain and unstable circumstances, not only is my hope unleashed, allowing me to wait with expectancy for the hand of my Father to move, but I also foster peace, joy, self control within my soul and it becomes a potent system where my properly fed soul contributes to the renewing of my mind, and my new perspective reinforces what I've put into my soul. 

Then, there's the very real Kingdom principle of mustard seed faith and the effect it has on the mountains in our lives, not to mention all the ways scripture says God honors the faith of the righteous.

I'll be leaving links below so you can easily access who the Father says He is in scripture so that you can declare His identity over your personal circumstances, life giving promises from scripture that you can confidently proclaim in the face of adversity, and encouraging scripture affirming who you are in Christ.

It may not feel natural at first, especially if you are, as I've been, accustomed to defeatist language, but speaking life becomes as addicting as speaking death was comfortable. While the results may not be immediate, they are rewarding, satisfying to the depths of our being and to the very fringes of our lives.

THIS life, the one you're living right now, was meant to be lived victoriously, and we can begin to cultivate that through the power of our words and the placement of our faith.

Resources:
Who is God and who am I: https://www.blueletterbible.org/study/misc/ogiwa.cfm 

Promises from the word for everyday life:
http://www.biblestudytools.com/topical-verses/gods-promises-verses-in-the-bible/

What's in your mouth?

My 14 month old is usually really good at keeping things out of his mouth these days. Even really tempting little bits, like coins and small parts of toys find their way to my hand as soon as he picks them up. "Good job, buddy! You're right, these are not food," He beams at the praise and scampers away. Every now and then, though, I'll see him next to the couch, or under the highchair and I know he's eating something. "What's in your mouth?" I ask, and he'll hide his face, or run from me. Normally, it's a week old goldfish cracker or something from last night's dinner that got pushed off his tray that I didn't see when we cleaned up; something he knows is entirely edible, and he will fight me to eat it. Usually risking being bitten or kicked, I have to hold him facing the floor, squeeze his cheeks and scoop out his mouth. "Blech! We don't eat off the floor. This is yucky," I'll tell him, and even though he'll cry, I know it's better than letting him eat the old and likely gross stuff he finds.

A little over a year ago, I wrote about my big guy doing this as he'd just turned 2, and how instead of asking us for what he wanted, he'd settle for Crumbs, and if you wanted to explore how that relates to Jesus and his offer of abundant life, you can read that here. The difference in the kids is when I offered my big guy good food, he'd lose interest in the crumbs, but my little guy will fight to keep what he has. I don't know if he sees equal value in what he finds and what I offer or if he just has a sense of "This is mine," but he doesn't give it up willingly or easily and once I get something in my mouth, neither do I.

Some of what's in my mouth, the words that linger on my lips, is absolute garbage. Leftover phrases from darker days in my life that even said in exasperation, are awful. I think we all have those habitual sayings and autopilot phrases that we respond to the world around us with. Whether it be a resigned, "That's life," an angry, "I don't need anybody," or a controlling, "I have to figure this out," our words dictate not only the lens for how we see our reality, but also how we will engage with our circumstances and the extent we let the Father interact as well.

Joyce Meyer says, "The words that come out of our mouth go into our own ears as well as other people’s, and then they drop down into our soul where they give us either joy or sadness, peace or upset, depending on the types of words we have spoken." (Words and Your Life) This conclusion is directly drawn from Proverbs 18:21, "Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat it's fruits."

Now I want to make clear, this is not the same as the power of positive thinking, or a name it and claim it theology. This is a recognition that "our words are containers for power, and can carry our faith to the Kingdom of God where angels are released to help us or carry our fear to the Kingdom of darkness and release more trouble in our lives." (Joyce Meyer, The Power of Words.)

In the context of being a parent, I get the power of words, and how a child can be empowered or absolutely decimated with them; the principal of creating life or death in their heart and the effect that will have on their world and yet I don't apply the same to myself. Things I purposely don't say to my sons I will tear myself down with all day, and instances I would tell them to be courageous in, I guard my fear like it's some beloved pet. I would hope to teach them that it's ok to not be in control of every aspect of life all the time, but I am someone who will (ridiculously) position myself in every facet of a situation for the sake of my own sense of security.  Often, by guarding and excusing my faithless, destructive language, I find my circumstances riddled with heartache and trouble I spoke into existence, while my hope sits somewhere buried in the recesses of my heart, and the Father's hand is no where to be found

I want my son's mouth to be full of good things because then I know his body will be properly nourished. When doubt, anger, anxiety, etc spill from our lips, it's a sample of what our soul is fed, as Jesus said from the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks (Luke 6:45.) The Father desires to give good gifts to His children, and act on our behalf, showing His glory and mercy in our lives, but  we can't receive that which will sustain our souls if our mouths are already full. 

What is the Father asking you to spit out today? What is the hard, medicinal, thing He's trying to put in your mouth, which might not initially feel right, but you know is good? What healing do you need that will remove the barbs of a once outer voice that became an inner voice? Let me know in the comments or shoot me a message on how I can pray for you. Our Father is good, and wants our language to create and reflect a full, flourishing, abundant life for you.

Mud Slinging

I don't go to the park with my kids. Don't worry, my husband takes them because he gets it. Honestly, I just can't negotiate other people's children. I'll never forget the time a 5 year old went up to my 3 year old who had been playing at a voice amplifier and started screaming, "Shut up!!" That same day, a little girl did the super unsafe act of going down the slide face first. Both instances turned into me going up to my son, who attempted to emulate the bad behavior, and while staring down the other child said loudly, "No buddy, we don't say/do that. I don't care what ANYBODY else's kid does, we do not act like that." I looked around the park to see what checked out parents these kids belonged to, and was met with eye rolls and a caption bubble above their heads that said, "Come on, lady, we're on a break."

In that moment, I saw this behavior as muddying up my kids, and I couldn't believe other parents didn't care. If my boys were slinging mud at other people, I would address it right away! As I followed after my toddler, playing with him so he didn't need other kids, I heard the Holy Spirit speak into my analogy, "If your son really had mud thrown at him, would you address him, or the kid who threw it first?" OF COURSE I would tend to my child first! What kind of question is that? "What if he screamed 'Don't worry about me! Get them!" My heart would break for him, but I would still clean him up first. I realized where this was going, and it's not a place I let God go often.

For someone who is a Christ follower, I'm really bad at forgiveness. If we're being real, I know moral humanists who are more forgiving than I am. Most of the people I had to forgive as a child were repeat offenders, not safe and to continue attempting interaction with them lead to further damage to my heart. Absolving them from judgement seemed like the most nonsensical thing I could have imagined. Now if you're like me, you've heard people say, "Unforgiveness is like a poison you drink hoping it kills someone else," usually with the caveat added that the people who have done wrong against you don't care. I never understood that; unforgiveness for me felt like that magic bubble I wrapped myself in so as not to be subjected to the bad behavior of others. In the park, though, the Holy Spirit showed me I was that child, caked in mud, pointing at her offenders, screaming to be vindicated.

How my Mama heart broke for the picture of that little girl! I examined the mud smeared into her hair, across her mouth, caked into her shirt, splattered on every part and just wanted to wash her in the biggest tub with the most luxurious bubbles and comfort her while restoring her beauty and glory. I thought about the Holy Spirit's question with my 3 year old as the example, and if he spit the vitriol that I had heard come from my own mouth, I would be devastated, because he would be telling me to do something that as a parent I could not do: Make his healing second to revenge. Throwing another child into a pit wouldn't wash the mud off of mine, and while I understand that in context being a mother, I hadn't understood it in context of being a daughter of my Father.

About a month before Easter, I shared this little vision with some friends, who offered to pray with me, and lead me through washing off the mud. It took me 2 hours to forgive 8 people. The last few, I literally wanted to crawl inside of myself, hide under a table, do anything except continue because I had seen unforgiveness like a protective barrier for so long that as I let it go, I felt so unsafe, more so than any time I can remember. I struggled to breathe as the last matted pieces were brushed out but when I finally felt like my head had come above the water, I was clean. I looked at myself for the first time in years and didn't feel defined by this calcified hate. In no way did I forget what had been done to me, and the process didn't remove any physical boundaries that were absolutely healthy to maintain with those who've proven themselves untrustworthy, or make what had happened to me suddenly okay, as I thought forgiveness would do. Instead, I had let my Father bathe me in love and confidence, restoring beauty and dignity. I let myself weep for the wounded little girl I was, and received the comfort vengeance wouldn't have given, my tears washing away all signs of compressed anger.

Isaiah 61 says that God bestows a crown of beauty in exchange for our ashes, the anointing of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. He calls those who receive such oaks of righteousness, planted by the Lord, for the display of His splendor. I felt strong in my bubble which slowly grew into a fortress, blocking out even the possibility of being hurt, but I was made to display the healing glory of God. I don't feel as strong anymore, but I feel clean. I feel free. I feel radiant and I feel more equipped to handle how to love my sons when someone actually does pick up a dirt clod and throw it at them. I hope to see you in that same display of brilliant restoration and would love to pray with you if you need help washing off.

Unmerited

My son is on the verge of being a threenager, so often, he'll tell me exactly what his plans for the day are, and when they conflict with mine, he'll tell me "I said yes/no," "I do it myself!" or he'll completely ignore me. What I say I want from him is the furthest thing from his mind when he has his heart set on something. Occasionally, that leads to lots of yelling, some tears, maybe something broken and always ends the same way, "I'm sorry Mama." To which I reply, "I don't want you to be sorry, buddy, I want you to listen."

There's actually a joke right now going around on Facebook, that says, Other Moms: "Oh my God, honey are you ok? Let's clean that up. I'll take care of you." Me: "Maybe if you listened to me when I told you not to do that, you would be perfectly fine right now." Let's me know I'm in good company. More often than not, we'd rather our kids listen and obey us than be sorry and have to work out the consequences for their actions. For some reason though, we shy away from this idea when we think about God and whether or not He has expectations for our behavior. We think of the Father  and picture Him being a really nice guy who as long as we apologize when we goof, or miscalculate or whatever word we use to diminish our offense, everything's cool.

But the truth is, everything isn't cool. Jeremiah 25 talks of the cup of God's wrath, which He told Jeremiah to give to the nations he was sent to. The product of our selfishness and idolatry and the evil it created on the earth required a response from the Father, which the prophet writes, "This is what the Lord Almighty says: You must drink it! See, I am beginning to bring disaster on the city that bears my Name, and will you indeed go unpunished? You will not go unpunished, for I am calling down a sword on all who live on the earth, declares the Lord Almighty." (Jer 25:28-29) Even His chosen city of Jerusalem, filled with His beloved children, were not exempt from the judgement of their wickedness.

This week, Holy Week, there seems to be a focus on cups in the scriptures we're reading. Jesus, taking the Passover, saying the cup of Redemption was the new covenant in His blood, saying He was redeeming the world with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, (Exodus 6:6-8) and the cup of Restoration, which Jesus said that He would not drink with his disciples until it is anew in His kingdom. We also read about a cup tonight, Good Friday, where a sponge was put inside a vinegar mixture and then put to Jesus lips when he said, "I thirst." After drinking He said, "tetelestai" which means, "It is finished." (John 19:28-30)  What a friend explained was finished was that cup of wrath, which even though He asked for an alternative plan, Jesus drank to the dregs, so that we wouldn't have to.

All year long, we speak of grace as the free, unmerited gift of God, manifested in salvation and the bestowal of blessings. Only those I've known who've suffered understand grace's costly nature. The Father, who dearly loved the world, sent His Son to his ungrateful children, who don't want His protection, His provision, who want to live life on their own terms, deciding they were worth cracking His heart open for the world to see, lifted on a cross, to consume our punishment Himself for the sake of creating and maintaining a relationship with us.

We live in the light of the resurrection, only pausing to consider the cross on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, where we still make it a point to mention the story changes in just a few days. It's uncomfortable to think about how we've needed the cross, how we stand guilty without it, how our righteousness is like filthy rags before His holiness. It feels like legalism to let the weight of our poor choices and hypocritical nature sit before us, but only then do we understand the true nature of grace. The Father is not like me, who looks at His creation and says, "Well, if you would have listened to me, you wouldn't be in this mess." He knows we can't fix this, and the only way for us to be free of the bondage we're in is to extend Himself in ways unimaginable. I would encourage you today and tomorrow, to sit in knowing how undeserving and costly His grace really is, and let the fact we get all of it anyway transform your heart. It is His kindness that leads us to repentance, and love that leads us to obedience. (Rom 2:4; John 14:15) A blessed weekend to you all.

You're the best!

My big guy responds to positive reinforcement and praise like nothing I've ever seen. Every time I say, "Gosh, you're such a good big brother," or "You are so smart!" he just fills to the brim of his being with pride. Often I'll just tell him, "Buddy, you're the best" to which he responds, "No problem" or "Thank you Mama." (I know, adorable.) Compare that now to a friend of mine, older woman, who told her daughter, in her 30's, that she was the best. Her daughter rolled her eyes, and said, "Mom, stop." I gagged on my sadness, and with my hand over my heart explained to them how hurt I would be if that was my 2 year old's response. I would ask what I had done to make him feel like anything less than what I call him. I would wonder when he stopped believing what I said about him was true.

You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

Did you just cringe?

You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation.

I've known many through the years that root their identity in, "I'm a child of God," and then reject everything else the Father calls them, embracing instead that twinge in our heart that shrinks back and away from such big titles; such implicated responsibility. Maybe because children are products of circumstance, whether creation or adoption, and aren't liable for much. They are protected, provided for, educated and except for requests of small contributions to the family dynamic aren't expected of. To quote my friend, "I am completely inferior to Him. He is my father, who I go to for help. I am nothing without him, so I can't answer to higher things like..." Friend, Purposed, Gifted... But why? When did we stop believing what our Father says about us to be true?

One reason would be we live in a world where if I am to be the best, you can't be. The message we get is we all can't be chosen, some people just aren't gifted or at least don't have as valuable gifts as others and we're not special. I've been told by many I have a way with words, but my junior year in college, had a professor write on my paper, "You are not only a trapped writer but a trapped person." He never explained what that meant, but the event drained all confidence in a passion the Father had put in my heart from childhood. I didn't write so much as a haiku for almost 10 years because I believed one man's authority was greater than my Abba.

Then we have the Voice in our head, who will take what we experience in the world and turn it into shame. The Voice focuses on our sin and asks if we are a Friend of Jesus, why do we return to it like a dog to it's vomit? It asks if we are gifted, why does everything we touch turn to salt? It asks if we are purposed why hasn't God given us what we need in order to fulfill that purpose and points out all the times we have felt left to flounder. It's seeds of doubt root fear in our heart, and blocks off access to the Father's love. We don't want to outright accuse Him, but what the Voice says feels so true we turn in on ourselves and shut down. If what the Father says about us is most important, we have to think about what the Father calls that Voice: Accuser, Adversary and Thief. He was a liar from the beginning and contrary to how it sounds does not have your protection in mind but would rather leave you paralyzed and ineffective.

That leaves that twinge and shrinking away we feel to address. My husband illustrated it this way, "When I say, 'Yes, I'm holy or chosen, or purposefully gifted,' it puts a spotlight on me, and that makes me really uncomfortable." Things like, "saint," and "righteous," are concepts that we have an idea of what that maybe looks like, but when we look in the mirror, we confidently say that's definitely not me. To resonate with them feels false, and so we shy away from them saying, "No, please don't hold me up in that regard. I can't live up to that standard." We think ourselves as being humble, but if we're honest, we're afraid of not measuring up; we're afraid of our own ego being bruised. This is the definition of false humility, and while I know it's uncomfortable and daunting to push through and reject our own sense of self preservation, this posture neither glorifies God or advances His kingdom.

So how do we get back to that childlike faith that believes what our Father says about us is most true? I like starting off with a little test, going over what God says about me and asking on a scale of 1-10 how much I agree with it, 10 being completely. Start by agreeing with what you confidently see. That yes, you really are a child of God, wholly and dearly loved. Then move onto the parts that seem too good to be true, push past the false humility, the Voice and your experiences and open yourself to saying yes to those too. Yes, you are a holy, righteous saint. Yes, you are God's special possession, of great value and importance to His plan for this world. Yes, whether you hear from Him directly, touch people and see them healed, are filled overflowing with mercy or experience any of the many other gifts mentioned through the word, you are gifted, and purposed to use that gift for His glory.  Author and friend, John Lynch, shared this truth with my church this weekend: All that He is has been fused into you. You are Christ in you even on your worst day. (Colossians 1:27) and Jesus said to the degree the Father loves Him, you are loved. Accepting these opens you to the new Kingdom reality you have been made to exist in and allows you to flourish into the person the Father says you are.

Look at me

I am the kind of mom who has a real problem with paying attention to my kids when they don't necessarily need it. I can spend 30 minutes easy on Facebook or YouTube, browsing memes or cute puppy videos, or checking my newsfeed to see if anyone has said anything poignant while the kids sit and play with their toys or are watching a show. I'm even tempted to insist they don't really need me when they ask for my attention if I'm in the middle of a Candy Crush level or an intense back and forth over chat. Eventually, they will literally grab my face and say, "Look at me!" Usually, their big eyes bring me low, and I'm ashamed that I've ignored them for as long as I had. When I finally do meet their gaze, their whole face just brightens, especially my little guy, as if to say, "Yes! Now I have you. Hi. I love you." One morning, while meeting that gaze and basking in that smile, it just sort of clicked: It's not just my presence they need; it's my attention.

My mom's group is in the middle of reading about being a Mary in a Martha world (if you're not familiar with the story of Lazarus's sisters and their initial meeting of Jesus, you can find it here) and it's really tough for me to just sit at Jesus feet when I feel like there's always something to do! In the faith traditions I was taught in, the focus was on whatever you DO, do it all for the glory of God (Col 3:17.) Great verse, good focus, but not for us Marthas. For us, even when there's nothing to do, we'll find something, or we will entertain ourselves with unproductive, menial time wasters we've deemed are rewards for all the stressful activities that normally fill our life. Before we know it, hours have passed and we've gotten little productive work done. Then, like Martha who was up preparing her home for her guests while Jesus sat in her living room only attended to by her sister Mary, realize that even though He's been there, we haven't actually said two words to Jesus all day.

Martha's "Look at me!" moment was when she asked Jesus to make Mary help her, and he responded with, "Martha, you are worried about many things, but only one is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:41) I think Jesus was calling back to her mind when David in Psalm 27 said, "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.) Jesus was telling her, "You're here, but you're not here. All you need to do is sit down and talk to me."

Unlike my kids, Jesus will wait for me to acknowledge Him. It's almost like when you're out to coffee with someone and they're on their phone the whole time. (Don't you hate that? I hate that too.) They're looking down, and you're staring a hole into their forehead, trying to mind bullet them to look up and pay attention to you. When they finally glance upward and catch you staring, the embarrassment is obvious, and all you can do is smile and say something engaging. Or what's worse, they don't realize they've been distracted and rude, and the reason they look up is to complain about what they've been preoccupied with (I am SO guilty of my prayer life looking like this.) Thankfully, Jesus is far more gracious with me than I would be with someone, and when I meet His eyes, it's the same message I get from my kids: "Yes! Now that I have your attention: Hi, I love you," and suddenly, whatever I was doing doesn't seem so important or necessary anymore. It's just like the hymn describes, "the things of this earth grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace."

Father God, it's easy for me to be distracted with this or that, and exaggerate the urgency of tasks at hand. I ask that You would give me balance today, to steward well the time You give me to complete what You've asked of me and the reassurance that the best thing I can do sometimes is just BE in Your presence. Thank you for Your grace and constant message that I am loved, and the way little children always lead me back to You. In Jesus' name, amen.

A tale of two sons: a lesson in suffering

Hi friends! If you're still here, thank you. Life got a little crazy for awhile, and between working, children that don't sleep, holidays and general life, I haven't had time to just sit and be quiet and listen for where God was speaking. A few weeks ago, though, we had a virus rip through our whole family, and it forced me sit and wait and do nothing.

My older boy, who is just two and a half, spent the 3 days he was sick in my lap. All he wanted was a cup of juice, a blanket, and his Mama. When he would throw up, he would cry and ask for my comfort, and while I was cleaning him up, I would hug him or run my fingers through my hair, telling him, "I'm sorry you feel bad, baby. You'll feel better soon," while I offered him another Pedialyte popsicle.

My little guy, who is 10 months now, had never been sick before. Every bout of vomiting brought panic and fear, and he would stare at me, eyes screaming, "make this stop." His panic shook his tiny body and while he wanted me, he also rejected my comfort. He didn't really want ME, he wanted my intervention. He wanted me to make the thing that was hurting him suddenly stop as suddenly as it had come on. But as it is with viruses, there was nothing I could do but offer him a little bit of breastmilk, lots of hugs and a wait for it to pass.

What is it that my toddler understood that my infant didn't? 

I've written about trusting God before, many times, but the contrast of the kid's reactions to their plight struck me. They were both experiencing the same thing, and it was AWFUL (trust me, my husband and I caught it too,) but one leaned in while the other one pushed away. 

My firstborn was comforted because he allowed comfort. He rested because he took his tylenol willingly, and sips of water when he could and sat in my lap with his head on my chest and allowed me to provide what I could give him. He understood that sickness passes and that he just needed to get through it and that he wouldn't be left alone in that yucky place, as I would always be there.

My baby, never being sick before, could have thought his insides were coming out. He didn't want medicine, so he spat it back out. He didn't want milk or comfort, he wanted the suffering to end. He only rested when his little body finally gave out and even then, I made sure he was asleep on my chest because I need to teach him that even when I can't take away his sickness, I would never leave him alone in it.

Our lives, since September, have been one disappointing blow after another. We've been bypassed on job opportunities that looked like we were shoo ins for, we had a minor car problem turn into a letter saying it was being totaled and we had a dream come true opportunity to move turn into a complete and total nightmare. Each time we were left with our hands empty and our hearts broken, but instead of asking to be saved or with our fists raised in anger, we cried out to our Father for comfort and boy... did it come. It came in the form of friends sitting and crying with us, it came in managers offering mentorship and extra training to get us to where we eventually want to go, it came in not one, but two cars being presented to us in the exact price range we can afford that will leave us without a car payment and with girlfriends who greatly desired us to have a non-stressful, joyous Christmas season, gifting us a month's rent. And as a bonus, in the midst of all of these setbacks, my marriage has never been stronger.

Paul in Romans says, "Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." (Romans 8:17-18)

Glory. That's what was in the Father's mind when Christ was being led to a cross, knowing He could not offer Jesus the relief He asked for. He knew that the present suffering was not even worth comparing with the glory that would be revealed in the resurrection, and even though I believe the Father suffered with His Son, He knew the sickness, the trial, the disappointment was only going to last a fraction of the comfort, the trust, the triumph that was about to be displayed.

I don't know what suffering you're experiencing today, and I can't promise that it will end in this life. What I can promise you, though, is if you're like my big guy, and you lean in, comfort will come in ways you never expected. If you're more like my little guy, though, and you're still in a place where you just want things to be better, and you don't so much care about future glory, don't despair. I delight in both my boys, and it will be beautiful moving him from a place of panic in suffering to trusting who I am and what I can provide him, the same way the Father has so patiently taken me from being someone who demanded intervention to being someone who throws myself on the mercy and compassion of my loving Father. I pray the journey for you takes less time than it took me.

This wasn't while they were sick, but doesn't this just sum it up perfectly?