Seventeen: Setting Things Straight About Sex

"Your naked body deserves the honor of being shared only with someone who is covenanted to never stop loving your naked soul."—Ann Voskamp

I read these words, which ring so beautiful and true, and for some reason I was reminded of a conversation I had with a young woman this summer.  She told me, "the problem with all of the purity events I went to is they push the message on us that the most important thing about a girl is her virginity."  There was a twinge of anger in her tone that broke my heart.

I was at some of those events, and I know that was not the intended message.   Still, the fact that even one girl came away feeling like that is jarring to me.  Regardless of intent, if that message is the one a young woman internalized, we failed her.  Even worse, we failed the gospel and the message of grace.

So, for every young person who has felt like that, let me set the record straight.

You are so much more than the status of your virginity.  In fact, the whole idea of "purity" is misleading.  Apart from Jesus, none of us is pure--not even the most virginal--but in Him anyone can be--even the most promiscuous.  Your value has absolutely nothing to do with your sexual status, but rather your status as the creation of a loving God who thought you were worth dying for.   One of the things that always tore me apart when this discussion came up in Sunday School or at youth events was the way issue of virginity was used as a measuring stick in hurtful, competitive ways--at least among the girls.  Those who were still waiting felt proud, and those who hadn't waited assumed the others were virgins only because they were undesirable.  

Hear this: no matter whether you have never looked at the opposite sex or have been around the block and back, you are precious and worth fighting for. You were created for a big, powerful, sacrificial love and you. are. worth. it.  

The only reason your virginity matters to God is that He wants the best for you.

I'll be honest. I hope my kids marry virgins (and marry AS virgins), but not because that would make them better people or more deserving of love.  I want it because I think it is the safest, easiest way to enjoy the gift of sex--as designed and free of baggage. However, do you know what I want more?  I want them to marry someone who treasures them the way Jesus does, because he or she understands His love.  I want them to marry someone who loves their soul and not just their shell.  

Also, I hope you get that sex isn't dirty, and it's not shameful.  God actually created sex, and He wants you to enjoy it.  The reason we old folks want you to wait is that we've learned--some of us the hard way--that when you try to enjoy God's gifts outside of the context for which He created them, you lose out on the full joy He wanted you to have.  That's why I love the quote above--it's such a great picture of what He intended and why it's so wonderful HIS way.  The human body is so much more complex than just hormones, urges and interlocking parts.  

Even secular science is finding that the best scenario for physical intimacy is within the context of a committed, monogamous relationship. Good sex releases chemicals that bond you emotionally to another person.  The only way to have sex without creating that bond is to have bad sex, and who wants that?   It's also no surprise to find out  that psychological research is finding that those who follow the hook-up culture's message of sex without relationship or commitment often suffer psychologically.  Whether your mind accepts it or not, your body and your subconscious know that sex is more than just physical.  

I guess that's the message I hope you get. You are loved whether you wait or not.  You are valuable whether you wait or not.  But when I urge you to wait, it's because I know something.  Someone needs to counter the message that the culture is sending.  

We were made for something different and so much better.

Sixteen: For My Girls

The other day as she was making a rare appearance at home, my almost 20-year-old was cleaning her room and chatting about her friends.  (THANK YOU, Jesus, for these friends!)  Being college-age, they are beginning to pair up, and my girl finds the whole process fascinating.  I think I've got a Dolly Levi in the making here.  She loves to mentally put people together into well-matched couples.

When she paused, I asked, "Do you know anyone musical?  I've always pictured you with someone musical, I'm not sure why."  She agreed that she saw her self with a musical man, too, but that more important than musicality was a love of Jesus and the outdoors--and a sense of humor.

As she elaborated, I realized that she was very accurately describing a young man I've had picked out for her since she was twelve.  I had the pleasure of teaching him for a few years, and temperament-wise he just struck me as a perfect fit for my super-smart, somewhat scattered, very artsy middle child.  I have sung his praises for years now and she always rolls her eyes. 

Naturally,  when she described her ideal man, I couldn't resist pointing out that she had just given me an exact description of young Mr. Right.  

She's not there yet--she's got this ridiculous notion that she wants someone she's actually had a conversation with in the past two years.  (Can we please bring back arranged marriages?)

Today I was messaging with Katie and our Grace and told them about our exchange regarding Mr. Right.  He is at the same university they're at, and apparently I'm not the only one who thinks he's a catch.  Grace said, "Well, she'd better move fast..."

I'm guessing he's quite the hot commodity up at UF.  Smart girls.

As great as this kid is, I have to say, no, she doesn't need to move fast.  

I do want my kids to have an idea about the deep qualities that they think are critical in a mate, because cute only lasts so long.

However, even more importantly I want them to realize that THEY are the catch, and they don't need to compete for love.

The REAL Mr. Right for each of my girls, will see the treasure that is uniquely her, and he will want to move fast to win her.  

The whole exchange has left me feeling grateful for the gift I have in my husband. I never felt like I had to win him, had to compete with anyone else.  And it's not because others weren't trying.  He's quite a looker.  At the time we started dating there were several ladies who were not happy with me for taking him off the market. (They'd obviously never seen the dog hat.)  They were trying to compete, but I never felt like I had to.  I never felt threatened--not because I was so confident in myself, but because he was so happy with just me. He certainly had plenty of options...many who were more beautiful, talented, and successful than me. But for whatever reason, in me he saw his match and he quit looking.  I may not be the perfect female, but I was perfect for him, and he let me know it.   I remember when my mom asked me what was so special about this guy and I answered, "He's the first person I've dated who likes me for the same reasons I like myself."

So, my girls, all of my girls--whether you are in your twenties or in your fifties--I wish for you this kind of love.  Wait for it.  You don't have to be the perfect woman, you just have to wait for the gem of a man who thinks you are perfect for him.  I pray that you can feel the safety and rest that comes from the trustworthy, unconditional acceptance of a man who is smart enough to see the treasure that is you.  

In the meantime, I know Someone who thinks you to die for, and if you don't know Him, I'd love to introduce you.

Day Two: A Prayer for My Church

"If we allow people to be human and God to be God, the church has a fighting chance.  If you show up brave and true, and leaders show up brave and true, if you own your place and I own  mine, the kingdom will break through in every possible way. God is big and good enough to lead us all, and together we just might see the kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven."  -- Jen Hatmaker, in For the Love

This Sunday marks a change in the life of my church. We're changing our name.  It's a big deal for some-- and not such a big deal for others (me).  A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, after all.  This has been my church family since moving to Florida in 1998, so I know it intimately.  It's a biggish church, Southern Baptist in denomination, and, like any other church of any size or denomination, we're often times a hot mess.  But this hot mess is my family, and even if I sometimes feel aggravated to the point of distraction, I love them.

For me, there is much fuel for aggravation, but I think the irritation has a fair amount to do with the fact that I'm a Montana girl, and this is the South.  Being so close to Miami, this band of believers is an eclectic blend of Deep Dixie South mixed with a fiery dose of Spicy Latin Zing    Both come with their fair share of attitude and issues, bless them.  (We from the Northwest, of course, we have zero issues or attitudes.  Not.)  Suffice it to say that I am jeans and T-shirt in a land where the choices are panty-hose and sensible dresses or flamboyant frills and spike heels. I'm the proverbial square peg, and the holes in Florida are either round or triangular.  Consequently, it's not always what you would call comfortable for me here.  As you can see, these are not really doctrinal aggravations. Just personal challenges.

My church is also proudly a Southern Baptist church, and I am a product of a "non-denominational" faith influence, so I don't necessarily find the term Baptist something to be proud of (or ashamed of, for that matter).  We're all Christians, so Jesus should be the only thing we're proud of.  Anyhow, because of the difference in my background, my church has dearly held traditions and practices that I have to confess drive me just the teeniest bit nuts.  In these seventeen years, there have been many times when I have disagreed deeply with the way things were run or attitudes that were held. (In fairness, when we first joined the church, we knew exactly what we were getting.  Not to mention the fact that I joined them; they didn't join me.)  Still, there have been several occasions when the differences led me to consider finding another church family...one where I fit better.

Except, here's the thing:

As itchy as it can sometimes feel to be a black sheep, this is my family, and you don't just quit your family because they occasionally make you crazy.  Ultimately, it's not about my preferences or my opinions.  Nearly every thing that makes me nuts is a non-essential in terms of eternity.  Even though I might do things differently if I ran the church (which is NEVER gonna happen, by the way, so you can breathe easy as far as that goes), there has never been a doubt in my mind that our leaders love Jesus and love people.  I may have disagreed with some actions or decisions, but any time that I have looked beyond the action to the heart of the person, what I see there is love.

Sure, we have a tendency to bicker and wound and judge and sometimes behave selfishly, but this family also loves big and cares for the hurting and offers grace in abundance.  And here's a newsflash:  EVERY closely knit gathering of flawed humans--religious or otherwise--is going inflict some wounds.

That's why community is risky.  People are just messy.

While the official church priorities may not always be the same ones I have, this church body--through the lives of individual members--is reaching into the world and our neighborhoods without fanfare or grand production.  As individual members of a bigger body, we are making a difference in many ways, some that I am aware of (foster care, community service camps, pregnancy centers, teaching ESL, restoration homes for victims of trafficking, care and service for sick or invalid friends) as well as  others I probably can't even begin to imagine. Knowing that, it's really not necessary for the church policy to cover every type of ministry I find vital--because the people of the church are living their lives in such a way that loving the world doesn't require church staff or an official program.  I kind of appreciate that the church leadership doesn't have to be in charge of every single act of ministry.  I like the fact that as a church community we can come to church to increase our learning, worship together, share our passions and ideas, support one another and then GO OUT and love the world.

So here's my cry: They are not perfect, but this is my family.

May we grow in humility, wisdom, transparency, intimacy and courage because we strive to love like Jesus.

Jesus, give us humble hearts to hear and respond to truth.  May each person engage in a way that is brave and true, and may each leader humbly show up and lead in a way that is brave and true.  Let us each own our place and give others the freedom and grace to own theirs.  May we as a body be intricately and openly part of Your Church in the world and not a separate entity with our own agenda.  May we allow one another to be flawed and may our love for one another come from Your Spirit in such a way that we can see the kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.

Happy Launch Day, Crosslife Church.  I really do love you.

My Independent Thinkers

Hmmphfff.

Someone has been teaching my children to think for themselves, to search for truth and not just blindly accept ideas just because some authority says so.

...Oh, wait, that was me....

When I began homeschooling about six thousand years ago, one of my heart-felt convictions was that I wanted my children to know how to THINK independently.

I taught them to show honor and submit to authority, but also I wanted them to wrestle through the tough questions and challenge weak logic so that after the wrestling, the convictions that remained would be unshakable.

Beware of what you wish for.

Here's the thing...(cringe)...

I always kind of assumed that their convictions would end up matching mine--because I'm right.

My idea was that they would wrestle and search and get all grown-up and independent in their thinking and then come to the very deeply-held conviction that Mommy Knows Best.  (I do, you know.)

Imagine my frustration, then, the first time my beloved child--a child I carried in my womb for months, nursed, potty-trained, nurtured and poured truth into---had the audacity to disagree with me.

Scandalous.

It started when my oldest was about 14 years old, but back then I was the mom and I could still "say so."  She didn't have to agree with me, but she had to obey me.

We're entering new territory now.

My oldest is now 19--an adult in the eyes of the law--with two siblings close behind her.  If she wants, she can get a tattoo and there's nothing (legal) I can do about it.

She has legal grounds for saying, "You're not the boss of me!" (To her credit, she is wise enough NOT to say it...)

I can't even talk to the health insurance company to clear up a claim without her consent because "she's an adult." (Yeah, whatever... who pays the premiums?)

It's a bit unnerving, this loss of authority.

I raised my kids right--or as right as I knew how.

I encouraged them to think biblically and then taught them to do it.

I challenged their thinking when I thought it was faulty, and I instructed them to challenge mine when it contradicted the truth of the Bible.

I urged them to form their own values and convictions and hold them tightly.

And now...

now

I have to release them to live by their convictions.

When their convictions match mine,  it's a beautiful and exciting thing to behold.

When they don't, it's annoying.

In some cases it's even terrifying--because I realize that part of releasing them to live their convictions means allowing them to experience the full effect of the consequences of those beliefs.

What I really need to release is this notion that I have control, that their destiny is my responsibility.

It never was.

God gave me a job to do, but their lives are in His hands.  I need to release them not to themselves, but to Him.

They may mess up...just like I did.

Even in moments when they can't be trusted, He can.

Didn't He use even my gravest sins to bring me closer to Him?

Maybe I need to remember that the Father Knows Best. 

Safe from What?

Yes, and the Lord will deliver me from every evil attack and will bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom.  -- 2 Timothy 4:18

It would be very easy to read this promise through the lens of American prosperity and think that it was a promise that God would protect me from physical harm and mistreatment by others until the day I die.

Except that Paul is promising nothing of the sort.

Just read Acts: the man was beaten, rejected, imprisoned and finally beheaded! Most definitely NOT protection from physical harm.

Still, he considered himself "delivered" by God.

What?

Closer reading reveals that Paul was not delusional.

God did live up to Paul's confidence in Him.

You see, Paul didn't say he was confident God would deliver him from all physical harm, but from every evil attack.  He wasn't talking about a physical, earthly battle but an eternal, spiritual one.

Beaten, betrayed, persecuted, tortured, imprisoned and beheaded, God was faithful to Paul because regardless of the evil attacks, Paul entered God's heavenly kingdom with his faith and passion for Christ intact.  The Gospel was still his greatest treasure.  God had enabled him to finish the work He created for him to do.

The physical stuff was not the issue at all!

This past month my church family has lost two young members.

One was a good friend of the Cowboy, a mountain of a man named Greg, devoted to his wife and family.  He died suddenly, leaving them without the security of life insurance.

Just a week or two later, we prayed fervently and fasted for Molly, a 46-year-old wife, mother and teacher, asking God to protect her physically and restore health---only to bury her days later.

If I think that God's protection is only physical, my faith would be rocked right now.

Many of us did reel and ask: "How can He allow this?"

But today, I was reminded by Paul's letter to Timothy that God is faithful even when circumstances seem otherwise.

Greg's family had no life insurance, but he lived his life in a way that left them certain that God is still good. He left them the security of LIFE ASSURANCE.

 Molly's husband announced her physical death "with great sorrow and joy" because he knew her real life was just beginning.

From the apostle Paul's eternal perspective I can look at the lives of my two friends and say confidently that God did deliver them from every evil attack and brought them safely into His heavenly kingdom.

I wonder:

How often am I diligent in praying for the physical, but neglect to offer vital spiritual intercession?

I send my kids on mission trips and pray that they will have traveling mercies and good weather. I pray they will be safe from physical harm, disease and hardship. 

More importantly, I should be praying that God would enable them to complete the task that He has for them, that He would protect them from spiritual attacks that would distract them from the work at hand and that NO ungodly influence would interfere.

During a season of financial squeeze, I pray that God will meet our physical needs and provide my Cowboy with a good job.  

Really, I should pray that God would protect him from discouragement, and that the financial pressure would not tempt him to compromise his values or allow any seed of bitterness to take root or--worst of all--cause him to blame or distrust God.

Now, as he begins a new career wrangling jets instead of cows, I have been praying every time he gets in a plane, that it lands safely.  This is a good prayer, because I love him.  

But even more I need to pray that God will protect him from the distractions and temptations that will surround him, that he will be a witness to the goodness of God and the faithfulness of His Spirit to those around him, that God will deliver him from every evil attack. 

O, Father, forgive my temporal mindset.  Create in me a heart that would rather see my loved-ones tortured for their passion for Christ than to have them safe and happy but indifferent to Your Son.  Broaden my perspective to see that as long as my heart is YOURS then you have delivered me.  Help me live in a way that demonstrates that my physical and financial circumstances are only peripheral matters, important only if they magnify Your Name.

The Sin of Sodom

"Sodom's sins were pride, gluttony and laziness while the poor and needy suffered outside her door."  Ezekiel 16:49

Well now, that was a surprise!

When I hear the name of Sodom, I think of a place of great sin, but like most people, I tend to think of the sexual sin that was so rampant in that city.  I would even venture to say that the name of Sodom elicits an association with not just sexual sin, but specifically homosexuality.

Consequently, I have always assumed that Sodom was destroyed primarily because of rampant sexual sin and depravity.  I don't think I'm alone in this misconception.  I have heard many believers teach that God poured out His wrath on Sodom because of her sexual perversion.

Ezekiel tells me otherwise.  The sexual sins of Sodom were despicable in God's eyes; I don't excuse them at all. However, what God seems to be saying here is that those sins, which we in the church consider so horrific, weren't the worst ones.

God wiped out the city of Sodom NOT because of homosexuality, but because of PRIDE, GLUTTONY, and LAZINESS WHILE THE POOR AND NEEDY SUFFERED.  


How then, does He feel when we shout our indignation over a pro-homosexual agenda in our society, but then joke and make light of our lack of control at the buffet?

When we boycott stores because of pro-gay policies, and then laugh about our minimal effort at work, school or the gym?

When we refuse to watch Ellen because of her sexual preference, and then feel smug about our moral superiority?

When we spend huge amounts of energy and effort raging about the sexual perversion of our culture, but turn a blind eye to the staggering needs of the orphaned and abandoned children in the foster care system who are just outside our doors?

We are focusing on "thou shalt nots," when He wants us to glorify Him by letting our light shine before men through our selflessness and charity.


I suspect that we would have a lot more success in cleaning up culture if we humbled ourselves and washed some feet. 


Ezekiel would suggest that in condemning the one and making light of the other, we are committing, or at least excusing, the very sins for which Sodom was obliterated by God's wrath.

Kind of makes me want to duck to avoid lightning bolts from above.

Father, protect me from the pride that would cause me to minimize sins that you find maximum.  The truth is, without Your Spirit I am very prone to every sin for which Sodom was destroyed.  Let this knowledge lead me daily to the cross, overwhelmed by the mercy You have shown me and the power Your Spirit gives me to have victory over them.  I know I cannot have victory over sins I don't recognize, so thank You, Lord, for Your Word, which shows me Your heart.  Shift my desires from fleshly appetites to a hunger for Your presence.  Let me never be comfortable being full while others are hungry, either for food or for the Bread of Life.  Amen

Sharing Firsts

I remember the day I dropped her off for her first day of kindergarten.  The school recommended that parents refrain from walking their scholars to class that first day. Probably to avoid meltdowns and tears--  from the parents.  

It had taken me all summer to get over the fact that kindergarten in Florida was A FULL DAY.

Now, as I dropped her off from the car line into the arms of a stranger, I wondered how she would survive without me all day.  All day alone in the big world.  I drove slowly out of the school lot, watching to make sure she found her room.  What kind of cold-hearted officials would expect a FIVE YEAR OLD to find her own classroom on her very first day of school ever?

Never mind that it was a country school--one with signs prohibiting the riding of skateboards and horses on the sidewalks.

Never mind that just three days earlier we had toured the school and met her teacher.

Still, I felt as if I were abandoning my baby by just dropping her there.

It wasn't our first "first" and it wasn't our last.

However, because she is my first, every first of hers is a first of mine.

No matter how tiny she was, once I had my second baby, she has always been "the big kid."

She became a big kid before she even turned two years old.

As the big kid, she was first at everything--and we shared every one, because it was my "first" as a mom, too.

The first one to lose a tooth and the first one to figure out that the tooth fairy pays MUCH better when you are lucky enough to lose your tooth at Granny's house.

The first to ride a bike.

The first one to spend a week away from us on a mission trip. (When she was only TEN!!!!)

The first one with pierced ears.

The first go to a high school dance.

The first one to drive.  The first one to drive alone (shudder).

I shared each one.  I shared the first (but not the last) heartbreak and my heart broke, too.

I shared the first (and I hope last) car accident.

I watched her sign a legally binding "release of liability" for the first time and watched....okay, I couldn't watch but I was right there... as she became the first in the family with a nose piercing.

And now, she is the first graduate.


As strong and bossy as she is, I have lately been surprised when she resists change or new experiences.  I have been a bit stunned that she, the most opinionated of my kids, hesitates at stepping into her future.

This is the girl who baits her own hook, skins alligators, worms cows, and changes her own oil. She should be fearless!

Perhaps her hesitation is because no one has gone before her.  She is the first.

Father, will You give some extra grace to our first born, our experiment?

We absolutely did not know what we were doing; I can think of a million things I wish I had done differently.

Her brother and sister will benefit from what we learn from all of the firsts her father and I have shared with her, but I get no "do over" with my first born.

By the grace of God alone, we don't need one. She was an experiment to us, but not to Him. He knew her before we did.

She is strong, she is brilliant, and she is fully capable of finding her classroom at college by herself.  Lord, help her every day to also find You.

#1177 - #1195

1177. Max, waiting to open his gift until the girls arrived--what a friend!

1178. A handful of beans!

1179. My mamma, such a sweet, mischievous grandma.

1180.  Used curriculum sales.

1181. A godly young man who is "musical father" to my Songbird and his beautiful example of grace and forgiveness amidst painful circumstances.

1182.  Happy lab, chasing bubbles.

1183. A friendly stampede as the girls bring hay to the herd.

1184. Cousin Ashley playing with the cows.  No fear.

1185. The biggest melon yet.

1186. Toddlers through the dog door.

1187. Curly Kaleb sprawled in the grass.

1188. Letters of blessing from Daddies to daughters.

1189. The comfort of the Holy Spirit on a very disappointing morning when we discover something is killing the melons.  It's all grace.

1190. Teenage servants washing the feet of their peers.

1191.  Helpful people eager to assist me in my quest for answers.

1192. Brave, humble dads publicly speaking their love to their daughters through very manly tears.

1193. Enthusiastic young women--even if they are the minority--stepping up to really live for Christ.

1194. Unexpected birthday wishes.

1195. Ice cream for lunch--birthday treat!

Am I asking?

 In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.  Romans 8:26

I have to rely on the Spirit himself quite a bit.

I desire to be a prayer warrior, but I'm not yet.  

I know what it looks like, because I know those who are true champions of prayer.  

Some have been given a gift for prayer. 

My friend Gidget unknowingly preaches a sermon straight from God's Word as she intercedes for others...

Yvette's prayers could be praise songs or poetry and she doesn't even realize it.

Others have diligently practiced the discipline of prayer

Sweet Jeri diligently prays each day for the people in her prayer journal until there is a check mark or carefully described answer written next to the request. If ever I have a request that I want to be SURE will be lifted up to God, I ask Jeri.

They are my prayer heros.  

I have been convinced more and more that a major reason we in the Western church see so little movement of God is because we have asked so little of Him.  

In James God tells us we don't have because we don't ask...and when we do ask it tends to be with wrong motives.

The result is that although He is ALL POWERFUL, we are powerless.

So, I am striving--praying--to make my first response to be prayer.

God is so faithful when we ask in His will.

This past week I had my first panic attack in a long time.  Typically my response to the rapid pulse, the short breath, the trapped feeling is total self focus and an irresistible "flight" reaction.  

I call it my "Forrest Gump" feeling.  

I want to go out the front door and start running and not stop until I feel calm.  Because my responsibilities and prematurely aging knees prevent that form of relief, my mind and physiology begin a frenzied dance together until all problems are completely out of proportion and I feel like a wild animal trapped in a cage.

Beware of approach. (There's a reason they call it "flight or fight.")

The symptoms started the same old way

too many expectations

trying to please people who had decidedly different needs--that had to be met at the exact same time

no one is happy 

I'm not enough

the panic starts; I want to run.

Then the reminder: This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: “Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength."

I don't run.  


I don't spiral into a crazed animal.


I pray.


And He answers.  Not the instant calm I wanted, but the steady reminder to pray every time the adrenaline surged. 


He sent me calm people to surround me who mercifully did not notice that I was not calm.  


He gave me the affirming words of friends who didn't even realize I needed encouragement.


I had, because I asked.  

This morning the Spirit laid a friend very heavily on my heart.  I have prayed for her regularly, but not daily.

It had been a few days.  Today, I felt the need to pray for her, but didn't know why.  

Because I don't talk to her often, I sent her a text to let her know God was thinking of her and that I had prayed for her.  Immediately she responded to say thank you: As it turned out, her husband had an appointment today that was causing him to PANIC.  

Well.


I certainly know how to pray for that!

I am floored by the realization--again--that I depend on the Holy Spirit for EVERYTHING.  I can't even pray without Him.

At the same time I am THRILLED with the knowledge that when I depend on Him, I can do ANYTHING.

#741-#757

741. Two of my kids working together to sketch out a cow on poster board for a 4H project.

742. Twenty sandhills who greet me as I walk the fields.

743. Seeing flashes of insight in students just learning to think deeply.

744. Early morning stroll.

745. Cows and calves at the fence.

746. Room full of teenage girls, all doubled up in one tiny bedroom.

747. A lone egg in the back yard, left by a hen who missed curfew.

748. Early bedtime and deep sleep to fight a cold.

749. Delicious Iranian food made with love.

750. Horseback ride with the cowboy.   (BUMPY!)

751. Stymie and his mother bellowing their protest over separation.

752.  The new friends that teaching brings me.

753. Pink morning sun.  (Afternoon rain?)

754. Funny little notes from students: "Dear Mrs. O, I still don't like To Kill a Mockingbird."

755. Little brown rooster sprinting awkwardly across the year.

756.  "When two or more are gathered..."  The beautiful privilege of pleading for soul protection of a young person.

757. Prayer warrior friends who can pray a powerful sermon right from the Word of God.

The Lord has chosen YOU

1 Chronicles 28:10, 20

"So take this seriously.  The Lord has chosen you to build a Temple as His Sanctuary.  Be strong and do the work....."v. 20 Then David continued, "Be strong and courageous and do the work.  Don't be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord God, my God, is with you.  He will not fail you or forsake you."

Father to son.  

King David spoke these words as he declared Solomon his successor and informed him that God had chosen Solomon--and not David--to build His Temple.  David had gathered material; he had drawn plans; he had arranged for skilled workers; he had given of his own treasure--but he could not build the Temple of God.  That was Solomon's job.

Fast forward several thousand years.  

I am by no means a king (or queen), just a mother of these three young people with too little time left in my home.   

Under the New Covenant instituted by Christ, the Temple of God is no longer a physical building in Jerusalem.  The Temple now lies within each believer.  

Still, there is a lesson for this modern mother from the kingly father of Solomon.

As much as I want to be able to build a Temple for God in the heart of each of my children, God says I am not the one to build His Temple there.  

Each child is ultimately responsible by the grace of God to build his own internal sanctuary for the Lord.  

Like David, I should provide materials, draw plans, help find workers, give of my own treasure.  I can encourage them to be strong and do the work. I can share my story with them as proof that God will never fail or forsake them.

However, I cannot build the Temple. I can't nag them into it.  I can't discipline them if they don't get it done.  I can't manipulate or bribe them to do the work.

For that, I must trust.

I read this week from a wise mother that only God can change a heart; only God can draw hearts to Himself.  I have to trust that He wants intimacy with my children even more than I want it for them!  I have to trust that He will not fail or forsake them even if they have times of failure.

God has graciously left in His Word the eloquent prayer of David for Solomon that I can pray for my children:

1 Chronicles 29:19

"Give my son Solomon the whole-hearted desire to obey all your commands, laws and decrees, and to do everything necessary to build this Temple for which I have made these preparations."

#475-#490

475. Having something to share.

476. Fresh bags of chicken feed.

477. Each student behind every paper I grade.

478. Chuckles over the creativity and silliness of an essay on "Spoons" (which can apparently be used to stick up one's nose...)

479. Funny comments by the kids and their friend as they make breakfast.

480. A husband with integrity and humility enough to take less for himself so others can have more.

481.  A wise and thoughtful father who is generous with his advice when it is asked for, but never forceful with it.

482.  Pitching in on a present that we KNOW is a good one.

483. Dirt under my fingernails from pulling weeds.

484. Cowboy's reading of Genesis 3.  "Who told you that you were nekkid?"

485.  Games with friends, old and new.

486.  Mandoo!  Good conversation and food.

487. Lunch, farm (and feather) sharing, and lots of laughter with the Morrisons.

488. Trying to keep a straight face as Gabe negotiates, "The thing is Aaron....I'm was chasing chickens to lose weight....they give me a good workout." What a sweet soul!

489. Coffee and conversation under the stars.

490. The gift of laughter.  It costs nothing to give, but enriches so much!

Holy Fire

One of the highlights of a winter trip to Montana a few years ago was a snow coach tour through Yellowstone Park. On the trip we passed through a vast area that had been consumed by fire in the late 1980's. Tall, charred skeletons of trees still remained to echo the devastation of the fire. However, in the twenty years since the fire, a new forest had grown, full of gorgeous pines that were vibrant, green and alive even in the frigid winter.

When I remarked on the contrast, our guide explained that nearly 20 million acres had been burned in the fire because it was allowed to burn unhindered. Apparently, the policy of the Forest Service is that they do not intervene with fires that are due to natural causes unless they threaten humans.

In the case of Yellowstone Park, the seeds of majestic evergreens are locked inside very dense, tightly closed pine cones. The cones fall to the ground, but the only way for the seeds to be released is for the cone to be subjected to extremely high heat.


 Like a forest fire. 




 It turns out, the forest actually needs fire if it is to reproduce and grow.

Hmmm.

As I listened to his explanation, it occurred to me that this natural phenomenon reflects a spiritual one. So often, we see “fires” in our lives as solely destructive forces—things to be avoided at all costs. If a fire starts, we feel it MUST be extinguished, and we invest tremendous effort in stopping it.

A child with special needs, cancer, the loss of income, the loss of a loved one....all are fires that can engulf us. In our limited view we cannot see what could be good about the trial; we cannot see why a loving God would allow an uncontrolled fire to ravage us.

But just maybe God allows the fire so we can grow.

Perhaps, like the pine trees, the seeds of our growth are locked tightly away, unable to be released unless intense heat forces our hearts to open and release that which we cling to.


 In my mind, I picture those seeds as the things in my heart that I cherish more than my God. I clutch them, protect them, think I can't live without them. 


Others are dreams that God has placed in me, but out of fear or insecurity I hold them in. However, they are not doing me or anyone else any good locked away in that pinecone. 


 Yet when the heat of trials cause (or force) me to release them, lo and behold, the result is something marvelous and alive.

My Savior is infinitely creative and wild. Yet even in what seems wild and chaotic to my feeble understanding, there is order, divine purpose, and rebirth.


He can even even bring growth out of the devastation that results from the “man made” fires caused by my sin or someone else's. 


I pray that God will grant me the courage and wisdom to recognize holy fire in my life. I pray that I will trust His goodness enough to resist the urge to put out fires that will ultimately result in beautiful new growth for me or others. Oh, I pray that He when He allows fires, He would accomplish His purpose in them and make me and those around me “oaks of righteousness.”   

And It's Not Even Father's Day!

"For years I 'got' God's love in my head, checked the right answer on the 'what is God like' test, but didn't fully understand it with my heart.....The reasons we don't receive, trust, or see His love vary from one person to the next, but we all miss out because of it.  For me it had much to do with my relationship with my own father.....Don't get me wrong, not everything about my dad was bad....But I can't sugarcoat how my relationship with him negatively affected my view of God for many years."  Francis Chan in Crazy Love  




Like it or not, our most lasting and ingrained ideas about what God's love is like come from our earthly fathers.

In contrast to Francis Chan's experience, I think I "got" God's love in my heart before I ever made sense of it in my head.

Like Francis, it had much to do with my relationship with my dad.

I can't even begin to tell you how I love this man.  Suffice it to say that my dream as a parent is for my own children to love me as much as I have loved my parents.

The only men who share my heart with my dad are my husband and my son.

But he had it first.

He's had it the longest.

Even though he is not perfect, I would be hard pressed to find a better earthly example of what God's love is like.

Unlike many parents today, my father was first and foremost an authority in my life. He interacted with me, enjoyed me, played with me and shared my life, and he was FUN--but he never pretended to be my buddy.  Not only did I not talk back to him, it would not even have crossed my mind to talk back to him.

I most certainly feared my father's anger.

That fear, however, was not because my father's anger was harsh or unloving.  I can count on one hand (maybe even half a hand) the number of spankings I received in my childhood.  And when I consider what I did to deserve those spankings---I think he should have spanked me harder!

No, the reason I feared my father's anger was because I adored him and I couldn't bear his displeasure.

He was authoritative enough that I felt safe under his leadership, but a large part of his authority was earned not through position but through relationship. I knew he knew me.  I knew I was special to him and I trusted his boundaries because I knew his reasons behind them.  (Usually they were to protect me.)

Even after I was grown and left home as a single young woman, I felt safe no matter how far away I was, because I knew he was there the help me if I had difficulty.

I think I also feared his disappointment because I so desperately desired his approval.  He demonstrated (still does) unusual honor and integrity.  Because his own moral stature was so high, his approval meant something.  His integrity was important because I knew he could be trusted to take care of me.


With that kind of experience growing up, it's remarkable to me that I can have so many times of not trusting my Heavenly Father.  My dad is good, but he's not God.  If he is faithful, trustworthy and constant, how much more is God Almighty?

If I am brutally honest, I have to admit that the root of my hesitancy to trust, the core of my tendency to disobey, is just plain selfishness.

You must not get the idea that I was a model child.  Partly because I feared my father's anger and desired his approval, I had a tendency to lie and sneak behind his back.  Somehow my immature mind thought that if I didn't get caught, then it wasn't bad.  I desired his approval and relationship--but sometimes not more than I desired my own way.  I knew the  reasons for his rules, and I knew they were "good for me." They just got in my way at times.

How little I've grown!  I know that God is perfect, that His plans are good.  It's not that I don't trust His power or His purpose.  If I'm honest, I have to admit that my resistance to trust lies in the fact that I don't trust Him to give me what I want--that His way will make me happy.

Oh, God have mercy on me.

He has shown me repeatedly that His way is not only best, it is deeply fulfilling and rewarding--enjoyable even!  He as given me tastes of how satisfying He is even in times of brokenness and devastation.

I forget that, just like my father, all God really wants from me is an honest, loving relationship.  I can't have that if I don't trust Him.

Lord, help me to trust.

A Real Love Story

Actually, I don't know how this story will end, but I can see His hand all over it.  He IS writing it.

Today I was asked to pray for a girl who is scheduled tomorrow for an abortion.  Ironically, her childhood friend--the friend who walked her through an unplanned pregnancy once before--is on this earth because her mother cancelled an appointment to abort her.

She knows this.  She's probably on some level grateful to that mom for the life of her friend.

But this is about her.  She cannot raise a child.  And she won't "give her baby away."

In her mind, this is the best thing for everyone.

She doesn't know that just across town, there is another young woman.

Married five years, people are now asking light-heartedly, "So, when are you two going to finally start your family?"

If only it were that easy.

An endurance athlete and tenacious spirit, she confesses that it is difficult to answer these well-meaning questioners without breaking down.

Knowing there may be no answer this side of heaven, she still wonders why God would allow some women to bear children, but not her.  Not her.

As God breaks the hearts of this couple, He opens them to the possibility of adoption.

I read her pain as she shared it on her blog--and began praying.

Her mother sent me an e-mail, asking to share with her if I happened to learn of a young woman who may be wanting forever parents for her baby. I hadn't, but promised to keep praying.

My prayer journal is freckled with requests to bring together this hurting young couple and a young woman who would trust them with her child...

Then today.

Oh, Father, I see Your hand in this.  Will you hear the prayers for this baby and dear young mother, and answer them with this young couple?  Would you reach her heart and help her see that it is not a "giving away" of a child, but a "taking home"?


Will You take the prayers for this beautiful, godly couple, and answer them with this child?

Will You use this situation to show a fatherless young woman that she has a Father who will never leave or forsake her?

You would weave a beautiful tapestry here, Lord, but you never force.  Taking a great risk for the sake of a love relationship, You gave us the power to choose.

Oh, God, I pray that she would choose what is best over what is easy.

In the choosing, I pray that she would find the love that You created her for.

Sleepless in Geneva

Anxious. Awake.

You cannot convince me now that there isn't an enemy of my soul.  Three hundred gifts into my list of 1000 and I have a day in which I can't imagine finding ten more, let alone seven hundred.

All that the eyes of my heart seem to see are the discontents:

An angry, hurting child
a farm that is falling apart
a schedule I am failing to master
a list swimming around in my head that I can't seem to get done because of not enough.

Not enough time
Not enough energy
Not enough money

And the waves rage and my eyes come off His face and all I see are the waves around me.....I am sinking....all alone.

Oh, me of little faith!

Meanwhile, the enemy prowls around looking for someone to devour....

Ah, but He reminds me that I am cowering before a DEFEATED enemy, a lion with no teeth.

He reminds me that the eyes of the Lord roam the earth looking to strengthen him (or her!) whose heart is fully His.  He is the conqueror, and He is looking for me.

Find my heart, Lord, and make it fully Yours.  Strengthen it.  Bring my eyes back to the One who has defeated the enemy.  You ask for my whole heart, because that is the only way for it be safe.

How do I give Him my whole heart?

When I give my attention to Him, give attention to noticing His gifts, I open my heart to Him.

When I thank Him for the beautiful and the ugly, thank Him for the plenty and for the not enough, I offer my trust.  And I can't love Him if I don't trust Him.

Is it any wonder there are days like this?  As I have begun intentionally looking to see my 1000 gifts and beyond, God has wooed me, found my heart.

As my heart learns to find safety in surrender and  trust, my toothless enemy rages, stirs up the waves around me, points out the ugly, the insufficient, and screams lies.

Ahhhh...but if I listen, if I look carefully, the silence of the One who can be trusted roars that He has already won this fight.

Prayer for the Weekend

In about an hour, I will leave to spend the weekend at a purity event for young women.

Lord, I know to them I am an old lady.

They think I don't understand...that it's easy for me to say, "Stay Pure," because I am married.

Help them see past my wrinkles, bifocals and comfy clothes

and know that in this "ancient" casing beats the heart of a girl with regrets

--regrets that I long for them to miss out on!

I pray they will see as well that this same heart rejoices that You can make anyone pure and blameless.  You can weave a beautiful tapestry from the threads of a tattered life.

For each young woman there, I pray that she will find acceptance and freedom in Christ.

I pray that those who have chosen a straight path would be humble and encouraging to all who are there.

At the same time, I pray that they would not feel looked down upon because of their self-inflicted innocence.

Let it all be about Jesus.

 Give us a judgment-free zone, Father.

Father, if there are any there who may be wavering in their walk--I pray that you would use this weekend, Your Word, and the community of loving believers to strengthen them.

Oh, Abba, let us BE loving believers!

If there are any coming with hard hearts, I pray that You will soften them to truth, and our hearts to them.

If any are coming with shame or regrets, I pray that they would release the shame in repentance and be washed truly clean by the blood of Christ.



Father, I release the need to control the responses of others.  I trust You to woo each heart.

Amen.