I'm watching things grow

In honor of the great green day, I’m making corned beef, just like my grandmother used to cook for our family. The nostalgic smells have me thinking about legacy and what a blessing my grandparents, especially my grandmothers are in my life. Not just childhood memories, the things they’ve passed on to me, practical and spiritual, that I see everyday. Regular Bible study. Scripture memory. Love for and loyalty to their families, especially their husbands. The universally appropriate advice, “take a minute away to read a book - you’ll feel better.” I am blessed, my children are blessed by their lives.

I see this blessing in Gwennan right now. Her four-year-old brain is processing the complexity of God in ways that astound and encourage me.

Just last night while we were praying, she says, “Dad, I mean God,” then her head pops up. “Oh, I have two dads! You, Daddy, and God is my dad.” Bows her head again, “God-dad...”

My heart is still smiling at that recognition. Especially on the heels of this conversation...

The house is quiet while the two little ones sleep. Gwennan is up from her nap early helping me in the kitchen. “Mother, when does God stop looking at people?” 

I’m caught off guard for a moment, “Are you talking about our prayer, ‘the Lord turn his face toward you?’” 

“Yes. When does God stop looking at people?” 

We embark on a long discussion about common grace (in 4 yo terms) and heaven and hell and who goes where, when they go, how we know we are children of God. She receives it all with her deeply thoughtful expression and sums it up, “Because I have a new heart, God never stops looking at me.”

She understands better than I do somedays.

I think to quiz her and ask, “What is the place God’s children go when their bodies die?” 

“Heaven.”

“Good. And what is the place people go when they don’t love God?”

“Hilton.”

“Nope. That’s the neighborhood we’re moving to.”

“Oh... hell.”

As I’m sure it was for my grandmothers and mother before me, the greatest blessing in my life is watching my little ones turn their faces to the God who always looks at them. Seeing the truth we daily repeat take root and grow. Witnessing the people you love best in the world learn to love the One you love best. Grace upon grace.

Our family identity

I caught her again Saturday, still clutching the hastily eaten tube of toothpaste. This is the third tube this weekend. My discipline arsenal is exhausted. She’s bought more toothpaste with her own carefully saved aquarium money. She sat in time out until she fell asleep. Frustration sags my frame.

“Why are you doing this?” Two concerned parents sit down with the wayward three year old.

“Because I sneaky. I your midnight ninja.”

That silly nickname I made up one morning after she crawled into our bed in the middle of the night without waking us. How could I guess that she would own my joke as her identity.

“You are not sneaky,” her daddy replies. “You are our Sweet Afton. You are a good girl.”

Talking and more talking ensues. Talk with her about who she is. Our girl. Our sweet, big hugging, hard loving, good girl.

More talk with each other about how we present identity to our kids. We are in an uphill battle to build their frame of reference, how they see themselves and the world around them. Our task is to give them a Biblical frame in the face of a society with a fundamentally different understanding.

In society, what you do determines who you are. You bank, therefore you are a banker. You blog, therefore you are a blogger. We wear these activities like so many name badges, creating an identity. 

In God’s kingdom, who you are determines what you do. You are an adopted child of God, a new creation, an heir to Christ’s eternal glory. Therefore you worship the Lord; you love the church; you serve other people; you spread good news. All your activities, even quilting, cooking, mowing flow from a predetermined identity: Christian.

In society, my girl is an untrustworthy sneak. I want to treat her as such, taking away the privilege of privacy from her day, insisting that my all-watching eye be on her every move until she proves that she is other than what I think her to be. Which is why God gave her two parents. Daddy, who is not operating out of desperation to correct behavior, sees God’s way.

“You are our good girl, so we will treat you like a good girl.”

“What?!” My heart screams. “And let her disobey again? If this backfires, what will she get into next?!”

The conundrum of the Christian’s relationship to God. God doesn’t treat his children as screwed up messes unworthy of trust. He doesn’t hold back His hand of blessing. We are new people as He has promised, as He has identified. Thus He treats us as His good children, knowing that in doing so, He is further subjecting Himself to injury through our disobedience.

More than that, we will label God as weak and passive because He stays His discipline. He stores His wrath for another day to show His goodness now, and we mock that He is impotent. Still “the Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Exodus 34:6

Gracious. Merciful. Slow to anger. Abounding in steadfast love. He shows these things because He is these things. They are His identity.

But you have the mind of Christ. 1 Corinthians 2:16

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus. Philippians 2:5

We are not who we were. We do not think according to the established pattern. Because we have the mind of Christ. Now. in the flesh. not just a promise for another day.

As parents, we make every opportunity to speak identity over our children. You are good. You are helpful. You are important. You are ours. Disobedience works against who you are. It does not define you.

Christian, you are God’s much loved child. You are sealed with his Holy Spirit. You have a new mind with Godly desires. You have a heart that longs to worship the one true God. Your sin acts in direct opposition to who you are. Your weaknesses do not define you. They cannot. Your identity is set in the cross of Christ.

Therefore, act like who you are! Throw off sin as counter to your nature. In the words of the immortal Mufasa, “Remember who you are!” Or as Paul would say, “You were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.” 1 Corinthians 6:20

As always the proof is in the pudding... 

The tube of toothpaste remains untouched since our good girl heard her true identity...

And we guard the silly monikers we create to mask our frustration with our children...

And we are defining our family according to truth...

Because we are our beloved Savior’s, and He is ours.

P.S. If you are struggling with your definition of self in Christ, I humbly suggest reading 1 Corinthians. You are not the first person to need your identity laid out. The entire Corinthian church and every church thereafter needed this encouraging, convicting letter.

The painful looking glass

I watch a Godly woman anointed and prayed over. Her body attacking itself and causing endless pain. Forced to quit her full-time ministry job for surgeries and therapy. Where is God in her pain?

Or my dad. Almost daily migraines for decades. Stare at a computer until he physically can't sit up any more, lay down in a cold, dark closet until the pain subsides enough to earn the next pay check for his family. Where is God in my dad's pain?

Or my friend whose pastor husband unexpectedly died, leaving her a widow in her 30's with two young sons. Where is God in my friend's pain?

And please don't tell me it's sin. That we live in a broken world, and pain is part of it. If pain is brought on by sin, I feel like the child molester should have the debilitating auto immune disease, not my college pastor. Can't God alleviate that suffering for the faithful? Why are we declared righteous in Christ and still suffer? Why heal some and not all? For every blind or lame or bleeding person Jesus healed, hundreds of others must have believed that Jesus could heal and simply never ran into him. For every Godly person who lives a peaceable day in the West, there are ten who are martyred in the East. Is God's relief random chance? Does he leave some to suffer the consequences of a fallen world and deliver others?

Surely God is bigger than that.

Above all, how does suffering because of a sinful world explain Jesus? If pain is only the product of human sin, how could sinless Jesus face pain? How could sinless Jesus die?

Unless pain is bigger than we know. Unless God is bigger than we know.

I can't speak to every example, but I can speak to two:

1 My own pain - Without chronic migraines, I would remain firmly convinced of my own ability to parent my children, love my husband, serve the church, and build our home. I spend hours, sometimes consecutive days in bed, ice on my head, watching all my hard work give way to time. It only takes a couple hours for the dishes to pile up, for the girls to turn feral, and for Tim to wear down. Not because I'm so good at spinning plates. Because my work on Earth is meant to unravel, so I recognize that my toil under the sun is a breath.

God does the real work in our house. I change sheets. He changes hearts. I point out stains. He convicts of sin. I present basically clean, half-mussed children one day a week. He presents his Son with a spotless bride.

I wouldn't see this without the pain. I know I wouldn't because I didn't for years. Could not see the futility of my work for my efficiency. Years of migraines showed God's work.

And I wouldn't take pain free years in exchange for a glimpse of the glory of God.

2 Without the cross, we would remain firmly convinced of our ability to make up for our shortcomings, to earn good.

Christ's pain was the plan before God said, 'light.' Through his pain, we see God's perfect justice, no sin in his holy presence. And we see his never ending mercy, complete forgiveness, unfailing love. Who else can be both just and justifier? How else can we see his character except through our pain and his? In the ultimate miracle, sin and pain and death serve to reveal God's nature. As the girls' Bible storybook says, "everything would be better for once having been so bad."

We wouldn't see our fallenness without Christ's pain. We wouldn't see His grace without Christ's pain. I know we wouldn't because we don't. Because every other religion is based on our earning. Every other religion says that our condition is one we can atone for. Only Christ says, You didn't earn, you can't earn, I gave. He gladly shouldered the pain of the cross for God's glory that would be revealed.


God's glory gives my pain purpose. Redeems the effects of a fallen and broken world. I'm not just a victim of meaningless suffering. He doesn't withhold his power to heal and abandon me to pain. Suffering can be a looking glass into the glory of heaven. As Christ's suffering was.

And as a mother endures labor to hold her newborn, I wouldn't trade the suffering for the glory.

Misunderstood downpour {or how rain saved a party}

A dead car battery. I can postpone a trip to the grocery store or library. But this trip is special... a little girl valentine's day party. And we're buckled into car seats, boots and coats on, ready to go.

Big one bursts into tears when I tell them the car is dead. 'C-c-can't you find some battery juice, Mommy?'

Now I'm desperate. Scanning my contacts - Monday morning, everyone's at work.

Scanning the street, up and down for anyone with a car in the driveway. I knock on a neighbor's door, not a complete stranger, thank goodness, but a retired missionary couple. He looks puzzled to see a panicky, soaked momma on his doorstep. Please, can we have some battery juice?

A jump later, and we're back on track for the party. The girls shout their thanks to our neighbor. He smiles and says, 'That's what neighbors are for.' Then adds, 'Ya know, we were supposed to move into our new house last week, but with all this rain, they couldn't pour the driveway yet.' He wisely winds up his jumper cables and climbs back into his van. Smiles again and waves.

And I thank the Lord for the rain that has turned our yard into a swamp and held up a build site. For a neighbor who wouldn't mind saving the day for two very disappointed little girls {and one disappointed momma}. For a large grace on a small day. He sees the little stuff.

As I thank Him for the rain, I remember my own bitter heart toward that rain which fell as I was planning our spring garden. The rising puddles still present five days later irk me, especially the ones over last years' garden plot. I recall how beautiful my plants looked covered with tiny white flowers, only to drown the next day in a summer rain storm. Raised beds for tomatoes and eggplants, pots for root veggies, and I'm griping. Griping the drainage and the cost of good dirt and the general inconvenience in a Spring full of projects.

Now I sit, engine running, watching more large unrequested rain drops plink against the windshield. What if these drops fell, each one divinely directed, so we could go to this party? What if Mr. Don's house was held up, so he would be here to save the day? What if I've been grumbling all week against the blessing God was about to give?

Our family reading is in the wandering years of Israel. Each time they gripe about water, complain about manna, threaten to return to Egypt, slavery was better than God, DH and I shake our heads. How could they believe that? How could they grumble against a God making food fall from the sky every morning? This morning, I understand.

God didn't give me what I expected, what I understood, and I didn't trust.

And His grace abounds all the more - grace to forgive my untrusting heart and peace to believe him next time more misunderstood blessing falls from the clouds.

More joy in my heart

We laughed last night as a Baltimore Raven made a purple and gold confetti angel on the field. Grown man giddy and childish. Joyful over a goal complete.

A sweet friend birthed her second this morning. Everyone is happy and healthy. Delighted. Joyful over new life and love and family.

I'm happy enough for the Baltimore Ravens. The Lombardi trophy is nothing eternal, but their excitement was infectious.

I'm much happier, thrilled, in fact, for my friend. Can't wait to give her a hug this evening and present little man with his quilt. Your own pregnancy or a friend's, doesn't matter, those nine months stretch like an eternity. The anticipation of meeting a brand new person, well, I have goose bumps.

With all the surrounding excitement, my heart was a bit downtrodden and raw when I opened my Bible this morning. Accumulation of small stuff weighing on me. But my should be joyful heart wanted very much to curl up on the couch. When I read:

You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. Psalm 4:7

And I saw that football player rejoicing in confetti, the team crying and hugging. Big contracts about to be written. Big rings about to be forged. Top of the world. All their grain and wine before them.

You have put more joy in my heart.

I thought of a hospital, my own babies laid in my arms for the first time. Tears of joy and wonder at their tiny noses and pillowy cheeks. Dreams for a family fulfilled. All our grain and wine before us.

You have put more joy in my heart.

Do I really believe that he is my joy, more joy? Yes. And no. But mostly yes.

I do believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living Psalm 27:13 and will recognize the fullness of his joy that he has put in my heart. And I do believe that in him this day is my fullest joy.

Practicing Hard Joy

This week is hard joy. Truth tested. I won't recite my tale of woe. It's much like any other series of simultaneous frustrations that culminate in a tired family finding grace a hard practice.

Joy must be tested. Hope must be unseen. Otherwise, how do I know where joy and hope come from? Do I have joy in the Lord or in His easy gifts? Is my hope in God's goodness or in my comfort?

In small group, we tossed around the tired, yet always appropriate question: Why do bad things happen to good people (to my cynical brain: why do good things happen to bad people)? That's an entire blog in itself. Not for today. What was said that stuck: God gives hard to chip away the sinful, self-loving parts so Christ shines through.

That's my week. God showered me with truth in January, opened up His word and poured blessings. February He asks: Did it stick? Was sin removed that Christ might reign?

Heavenly seeds fell, but on what soil?

Rocky soil? One joyous week of God's word, happy sprouts quickly shriveled and gone. A lesson that should have blessed my whole life withering from lack of care.

Weedy ground? Cares of life, overspent, over tired, crying baby, illness. God's true and beautiful word choked out by everything else screaming for my attention.

Rich soil? Accept truth and encourage growth through meditation. Recite memory verses through the migraine. Practice grace at end of failed nap time. Force roots deep and grounded.

Where does my joy come from?

Gwennan's Potty Chart - Stickers mark accidents verse successes. A chart for my parental goals. If I fail, does my joy fail? Am I worshipping Jesus or "successful Christian parenting"?

The Value of My Life

The me not tempered by hard taught self-control is angry and selfish. I serve with expectation; I give to receive. Why is no one else working? Why do I always get left with this mess?

But I account my life as of no value nor as precious to myself, if only I might finish the course and the ministry that I received from our Lord Jesus to testify to the gospel of the grace of God. Acts 20:24

Facing imprisonment and death and leaving friends, those Paul poured his very life into for years. My life means nothing; only God, only grace.

I repeat this verse as I scrub plates, late night grocery shopping, hardened dinner mess. My anger over the mess: me valuing my life, my time worth more than "their" dishes. The Spirit whispers, Let go the perceived value of your time. Honor me in this task. Seek me here.


My bitter heart melts. Mind stops counting the hours of work done without a thank you. I recall Gwennan in the car: Jesus come back in sky. Jesus come back any time. I want Jesus! and my soul sings.

Local Ministry

I don't know how to introduce this thought. Every intro is followed by the delete key. So I'll just say that I was tremendously encouraged by what I read in 1 Thessalonians. Paul laid out his ministry step by step, a checklist for parents with a toddling mission field. I found myself praying through this passage and wanted to share it with you.

We Win!

My feet cannot stay still; my eyes snatch glances skyward; my heart leaps. I am Narnia seeing a crocus poke through snow. He's coming... The King is coming... Not as a helpless baby this time. No. As the One to whom every knee will bow. He already won. Can you feel it?

For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. 1 Thessalonians 4:16-18

Nothing gives me more hope than the thought of Jesus seated at the right hand of God. The ultimate good, Christ's exaltation, came from the ultimate bad, his crucifixion. I find no words. How beautiful is the will of the Lord.

The Beattitude of Surrender

This is so good that I'm pausing in the middle of my quiet time to share...

Matthew 11:2-6 (ESV)
"Now when John heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?" And Jesus answered them,"Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me."


First of all, my heart goes out to John. He's spent his entire, albeit brief, life preaching the coming Messiah. He baptizes Jesus and announces Him to the crown. "This is your Messiah. Stop looking and follow Him." I think that's probably the pinnacle of any life.

On that high, he has the guts to tell the king that he can't steal his brother's wife, and he's put in jail for it. Still, his hope rests on Jesus, the Messiah, the one who will free Israel and be the ruling king! Except Jesus is spending all of his time with nobodies: lepers, the poor, children, Samaritans, cripples. You don't get crowned king hanging out with people who have no voice.

So John sends his friends to ask, "Did I waste my life? I'm going to die in a prison cell or at the sword of Herod. Is it all for nothing? Was my message wrong the whole time? Are you really the Messiah?"

Jesus is so gentle with this broken prophet. He starts with encouragement, not that the cause is moving forward, gaining popularity and soon will be on the ballot. But that real life changing ministry is occurring for real people, people with big problems. Jesus is on the move toward redeeming not just Israel but all of mankind.

He finishes his message to John with a quiet rebuke disguised as one of Jesus' clever beattitudes. "Blessed is the one who is not offended by me." I've missed this verse in the past, skimmed over it as a head scratcher, just one more example of Jesus speak. This morning it made sense.

Jesus' methods were not what John expected. And let's be honest, when our expectations are not met, we don't react well. I really don't. I think that's what Jesus is talking about: becoming discouraged, angry, offended when God acts in His own way to His own purposes rather than meeting our expectations.

I'm very slow to come around to God's plan when it doesn't make sense to me. In Jesus' words, I'm easily offended by God's methods, and once offended, I don't quickly get over it. Not only does this show a deep distrust in the Author of history, but it means I miss out on God's work. That's sad.

So this is my beattitude for the week:

"Blessed is the one who is not offended by me."

Beautiful Collision

I just came home from church where DH (a youth pastor) tied a 50 pound weight and a cantaloupe to the ceiling and smashed them together. The middle schoolers were delighted by the flying fruit bits as the melon splintered.

It might sound like Tim just wanted to destroy produce creatively (maybe he did), but he applied it really well... When fruit collides with a weight, the fruit changes. When we collide with the unchanging almighty God, we change too.

If I'm honest, I haven't been allowing myself to collide with God recently. I've done everything possible to avoid it, actually. TV, yard work, facebook stalking, laundry, on and on. In the process, my heart's becoming hard, hard toward God and toward my family. Rather than find some Freudian/hormonal excuses for my actions, let me just publicly admit and repent of my sin. I need to be on a crash course with God!

Stuff I'm excited about...

I'm excited today.

I'm excited about the dessert that's under the broiler right now - pear halves with goat cheese, sprinkled  with butter, cinnamon and sugar. Oh my!

I'm excited about my new glasses. I've never had glasses before so I just experienced the "oh my gosh, I can see" feeling that comes with trying on glasses for the first time. I'm headache free today for the first time in two weeks. Yea for curved glass.

I'm excited about playing at my sister's wedding. While "Clair De Lune" is no joke and I have a lot of practice ahead of me, it makes me happy that Sarah wants to hear it on the big day.

I'm excited after having a productive day. Between potty training and headaches, I forgot how much work I can get done in a day. With spring upon us and the landlords coming for dinner this week, I'm on a cleaning streak. So nice to feel like I'm getting the house under control again.

Most of all (saved the best for last), I'm excited about God. I'm not always most excited about God, unfortunately, but today, I'm really excited. So what has me so excited? God uses really screwed up people to do really awesome kingdom work. Consider the cast of characters:

Moses - murderer and fugitive with a speech impediment who led the Israelites for 40 years

Gideon - the cowardly farmer who took 300 men into battle against 10,000... and won!

David - the baby of the family, the shepherd and artist who became the greatest king Israel ever had

Daniel - the slave boy in a foreign country who became chief advisor to the most powerful man in the world

Paul - He hunted and killed Christians before becoming the greatest Christian missionary of all time

As for the girls,

Esther - also a captive in a strange land who became queen of a huge empire and saved the Jews from extinction by serving three dinners

Elizabeth - the old, barren woman who gave birth to the greatest profit of all time, John the Baptist - who had a beard bigger than DH's, ate bugs, lived in the desert and was called the greatest man in history by Jesus Christ

How can we not love the Bible with characters like this in stories so huge?! How can we not be encouraged by the mighty way God uses not just ordinary but unlikely people to accomplish huge feats?

That's why I'm excited!