Brief Prayers...Quick Answers

Sometimes I wonder if God honors the brief moments of time that I try to steal away and be with Him.  While I can certainly stand to be more disciplined in taking time for God, it's not always easy to find/make the time.  Today confirmed that God is readily available to answer me even in the briefest of moments (as in less than 2 1/2 minutes).

I was crying out for peace and asking God to hear my prayer.  I was in my closet.  Yes, I've watched War Room.  Yes, I know the main character has a prayer closet.  No, I don't really have a prayer closet.  It's just the place that I was able to hide from the kids because I didn't feel like hiding in the bathroom this time.  The baby was safely napping in his crib and the older two were busy "doing teamwork" (aka: my daughter telling my son what to do and him following all of her commands).

So, there I sat crying.  I know I've been doing a lot of that these days and, believe it or not, life is actually really good.  I have a reason for my crying spells that one day I may share...or maybe not.  I probably will because it seems God is taking me through things just so that I can have something to blog about.  (Ha...I kid...kind-of)  Just to satisfy the curious, I am NOT pregnant.

As I cried out for God to help, my eyes were drawn to a devotional book that I've had for several months and have never really opened.  I looked at today's devotions and was floored.  God did it again.  Took my moment of weakness, my cries for His help and answered.  The short devotional ended with this...

"Be still in My Presence, inviting Me to control your thoughts.  Let My Light soak into your mind and heart until you are aglow with My very Being.  This is the most effective way to receive My Peace."  - Jesus Calling by Sarah Young

My interpretation:

"Be still (calm down, sit down, and stop freaking out) in My Presence (God's presence...not Facebook, Messenger or phone), invite Me to control (take charge of) your thoughts (so that His thoughts can become my thoughts).  Let My Light (all the ways that He is so good) soak into your mind and heart (saturate; fill every crevice of my brain and heart) until you are aglow (shining) with My very Being (His likeness).  This is the most effective way to receive My Peace."

So, I was still.  Until I heard arguing because there had been a breakdown with the kids' "teamwork."  (Little brother dared to tell big sister that he didn't like her suggestion).  And, though my time of prayer was brief, I was able to walk out with a little more joy and a lot more peace.

Romans 12:12  - Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.

A Snake In the House?!?!

I had a dilemma and I had to choose:  Do I scream and wake up everyone or get closer and see if it moves?  The house was dark, lit only by a closet light from a bedroom.  The baby was crying and, at that moment, I kind-of wanted to do the same.  How could there be a snake in our house???

Faced with the harsh reality that our tiny tot would not stop crying any more than my husband would stop snoring, I decided to press on.  I said a quick prayer that the snake wouldn't move too fast and against all the warnings not to run when face to face with a wild creature, I sprinted past that slithery, slimy thing.

It didn't move.  It DIDN'T move.  IT DIDN'T MOVE!

For a brief moment, I became fearless and crept closer.  Um, wait.  Why was the creature not moving?  Asleep? Dead?!? Fake???  Oh, none of the above...it's a STETHOSCOPE.  Yep, the thing that nurses and doctors use to make sure our hearts are healthy, just about gave me a heart attack at 3:00 this morning.

The weird thing is, I don't remember the stethoscope being there at 1:00 in the morning when I woke up to - shocker! - a crying baby.  Which probably means a child woke up at some point and carried it into the living room and dropped it just waiting for the moment that Mommy would shreak and wake up the entire house.  Or, because that said child sleeps with the most random items and probably dropped it on the way to our bedroom where she would crawl into our bed and play another riveting game of "Let's see which parent I can push off the bed first" for the remainder of the night.  Why does she insist on doing that?? And, why is our 13 month old STILL waking up so much at night?  Ah, the answer to those questions is a post all in itself.

OK...there is a point to all of this.  So, back to the snake...er, stethoscope.  After making my valiant discovery, I kind-of laughed at myself as I walked into the nursery and picked up my son.  And as he stopped crying, I started thinking.  Because, who can actually think when a baby is screaming at the top of his lungs just because he wants to be held??

Anyway, I thought about fear, and darkness, and how things can appear so much worse when we can't see clearly.  In my mind, that stethoscope was going to attack me...bite me...kill me.  Or go and eat my children while they slept defenselessly in their beds.  (Yes, I do know from who my daughter gets her flare for the dramatic side...thank you very much).

That fear that I face, you know it's not from God, right?  You know what else?  That fear you face right now, it's not from God either.  It's easy to laugh about something like a stethoscope being perceived as a snake, but it's not so easy to laugh about our other fears.  When the fear is about a doctor's report, if you will be able to make ends meet this month, a wayward child, an ailing loved one, a lost job, fertility issues...the list is endless...it's not funny.  I get it.  It's painful.  It's horrible.  It's not at all joke worthy. But...BUT...we can face that "thing" that scares us the most and proudly proclaim that what we "see" is not at all what it really is.

After I laid a sleeping little boy back in his crib, I kicked that stethoscope out of the way and thought to myself, "Take that you crazy snake!"  Yes, I needed more sleep but I actually did that for a reason. It was a deliberate act of reminding myself that things are not always how they appear.  That diagnosis, negative checking account, impossible relationship issue, or dashed dream is not larger than life because we serve a God who already knew we'd be dealing with this, and HE is larger than it all.

Easy to say, not so easy to always put in practice.

That's why there are dozens of verses about fear and worrying in the Bible.  God knew we would all need reassurance along the way.  I can say from experience that when I cling to Him, when I repeat His words over and over again, when I communicate with Him, He becomes my focus and my troubles become clearer.  Suddenly, that mountain turns into a mole hill again as I trust in Him.  When I try to do things in my own strength...that is when everything gets muddled and ugly and despair sets in.

So, can I encourage you to join me today in turning our scary issues over to Him?  

Jesus, with a humble and thankful heart, I come to you this morning on behalf of those who will read this post.  Lord, you know the struggles we face.  You know the pain that my friend faces as she wonders how her mom will handle aggressive breast cancer.  You know the woman who worries about her relationship with her spouse.  The family who is praying that their child's cancer will stop growing.  The couple praying for a son who has lost his way.  The willing servants who are trying to figure out how they are going to make ends meet as they follow your will for their lives.  The friends who are just tired...weary...worn out from life's daily struggles.   You know the people who are facing issues that they just can't even talk about.  Father, you see it ALL.   I pray that you help all of us to look up to You today.  I pray that as we look to You, our fear will be replaced with peace.  Agony will be replaced with joy.  Hearts will be mended and relationships restored. We thank you that your perfect love can cast out all fear.  Thank you that you are a good, loving Father who holds us close in life's toughest moments...who gently reminds us that we are Yours.  We praise you for how you are working in all of our situations.  And, I personally thank you for using that silly little stethoscope to help me remember your promises.  In your name we pray, Amen.

Matthew 6:

25“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life^e ?

28“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

How Can You Be FIVE????

I thought about this blog post earlier this week while you were singing a Brooklyn Tabernacle praise song on your karaoke machine.  Your sister had joined in on the fun and your baby brother was clapping and dancing.  And, me?  I was crying...actually, sobbing.  Usually moments like that are filled only with joyful tears, but this time they were bittersweet.  Tears that fell at the thought of how much you love to sing praises, and tears that fell at the thought of how you are growing much too fast.

As I type, the tears fall once more.

This year...wow.  It was the year I had you to "myself" (albeit with a little baby in tow).  You've been my sidekick while your sister has been in school.  My thoughtful boy who loves to surprise me with "morning feasts" on a blanket in the living room.  My brave guy who valiantly stood fear in the face and made your dream of being a basketball player come true.  My determined little man who just this week mastered how to tie a shoe because it was your plan all along...to tie before you reached the age of five.

You are fiercely loyal to your daddy who is your best friend and the man you dream of being like.  You are just the way a little brother should be to your big sister...silly, funny, and mean all mixed together.  You two - our little "Riff and Raff" - are the best of friends.  Your daddy and I can already see how your little brother wants to be just like you.  You are patient and kind to him and have taught him the important things in life right now:  how to play with cars, how to wrestle, and how to throw a ball.  You beam every time you teach him something new and so does he...and, so do I.

We have watched you grow so much this year. Until this year, you cried almost every time we dropped you off at your class in church.  Sometime after you turned four, you decided that you just weren't going to cry about that anymore.  Just like that, you stopped.  You've learned that you can speak to other adults and not be afraid.  The joy I saw on your Sunday School teacher's face when she told me that you talked to her much resembles the joy on mine when you just randomly talk to people in public.  It thrills my heart to know you're more secure in that area.

This year, we'll watch you grow more.  We'll walk you into a classroom filled with kids you've never met and we'll pray that you not only find your wings, but that you'll soar.  You see, right now, you are still terrified to talk to other kids your age (unless you know them really well).  It scares this mama and tugs at all kinds of emotions to think that I will have to leave you to fend for yourself.  Yet, I know, that by doing so, you'll grow.  You will reach within your being, determine to make things happen, and then, you will.  That's the way you are.   You did it when you promised us for months that at the age of three you'd be completely potty trained.  You did it with basketball.  You did it with shoe tying. You did it with church.  You'll do it again with so many things.

My sweet Bro-Bro...the boy who loves to stay up late with me when Daddy's at the gym, the boy who loves to sing both praise songs and Brad Paisley songs (that is Daddy's fault!), the boy who dreams of being a race car driver, an astronaut, a police officer, and a basketball player...welcome to age FIVE!  You have waited for this age since before you were four.  I cannot see what happens with you this year.  There is no doubt in my mind that you will fly higher than you ever have before.

I love you with all the love a mama can hold for her very own superhero!

Love,
Mommy

Shards of Brokenness

I cried as a bit of my heart broke itself.  For a small reason, really.  I had a choice at that moment to get upset.  To lash out at the person (who, by the way was not my husband) responsible for the brokenness.  I was still contemplating what to do.  Pondering what my next move should be.  Should I respond with rudeness?  Let this person know that I was angry?  The pieces of my heart fell into puddles of hurt and confusion.  "I have a right to give this person a piece of my mind."  "The nerve of this one!  Someone needs to set this person straight."  With the thoughts, the puddles grew deeper.

Then, came a new commotion.  With three little ones in this house, there's always a bit of commotion. This time it was a crash, followed by a "Mommy, we need to tell you something," and the admission of a surprise gone awry.  The shards of a glass bowl from my favorite set of dishes laid on the kitchen floor...mixed among puddles of milk and cheerios.  Four sparkling eyes looked up at me.  They sparkled not from tears - no, there were no tears - but from the exuberance of life.  As I rushed the owners of those beautiful happy eyes out of the kitchen, I kissed the tops of their little heads.  They smiled.  I smiled. I looked at my joyful children - who just wanted to surprise Mommy and Daddy with breakfast for our anniversary - and tears of gratitude began to fall.  Tears that know that a bowl that can be replaced is far less important than the little hearts that my husband and I work hard to turn towards Him.  Tears that were thankful that my babes know that they don't have to cry, they don't have to be ashamed, they don't have to feel guilt over breaking a silly little thing, because things are just that...things.  Tears that fell because even though I get so much of parenting wrong, my children's hearts trust me...know me...don't fear me...at least not over "stuff." Tears that knew that the only reason I got it right this time is because of Christ working in my life.  I can show the love of Jesus to them because He so willingly shows it to me.

As I swept up the broken pieces of a once beautiful bowl, I examined my heart over the "other" situation.  Will having my say make anything better?  Will it help me?  Will it point this person to Jesus?  Will I show the love of Jesus? Should I run to the person who will only make me feel more shame in my reaction, or should I run to the One who I know will help?

I pondered as I went and hugged little necks.  "Thank you,"  I said.  "Thank you for wanting to surprise us, and thank you for getting me and not trying to clean up that mess.  It could have really hurt you if you tried." Those two, they hugged me right back and a bunch of "I love you's" were said.

And, boom...there it was.  If I try to clean up this issue, I will only make things worse.  So, I took my brokenness to the Giver of life...the One who can pick up the pieces and clean up the mess with skill.  A skill I will always lack.  I resolved to let Him work on my heart and mind.  To let Him handle this situation.  It's not easy.  I've had to re-resolve several times just in the course of a few hours, but that's OK.  Each time I hold those thoughts captive and hand them over to Him, I know He looks at His child and smiles.  I imagine He might even be saying to me, "Thank you.  Thank you for not trying to clean up that mess."

As children bring their broken toys
With tears for us to mend.
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because He was my Friend.

But then instead of leaving Him
In peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.

At last I snatched the back and cried,
"How could You be so slow"-
"My child," He said,
"What could I do? You never did let go."

 Author: Unknown

A Pity Party And A Baby's Hand

This morning, I was in a bad mood...a really bad mood.  Not the kind where I was fussing and creating chaos for all those in my path, but the kind where I was feeling sorry for myself and feeling like a failure.  This self-pity came raging in last night when I was awakened to the fact that I have characteristics that need to change. Change is necessary for growth, but change is not always fun.

So, I was sulking, "licking my wounds," and throwing a great pity party for the star of the show and the only participant...myself. Because, isn't a pity party better than tackling the necessary?  Isn't it more fun than putting in actual work? Isn't it easier than facing the task at hand?

Then what?  What comes after the "party" is over?  What is accomplished?  Much like a real party where a mess remains after, there is a great big pile of trash to deal with after the party ends.  The only difference...there is NOTHING to show for it.  No sweet memories.  No happy faces.  It's just a heaping mound of despair, loathing, and anger that is quick to fester and grow if left alone.

Even knowing that, there I sat, celebrating by myself.  I was about to open a big present of "woe is me" when I heard the scream.  My littlest guy stood there, looking at me for help and crying while his chubby, little fingers remained stuck in a drawer.  A quick opening of the drawer and mommy kisses on his sweet hand were enough to turn his face of pain into a face of joy again as he toddled to find something else to get into.

It was then that I asked myself, why am I stuck here?  Why am I acting worse than my child does when he is in actual pain?  Why can't I just do like him and look to the One who can help release my pain.  Why can't I see that a simple touch from Him is all I need to move on?

So I snuck into the bathroom - where every mama will admit is a good place to escape...er, pray - and I asked God to forgive me for my silly ways and to help me have the self-discipline to change in the areas I need to.  Then, I thanked Him.  As I thanked Him for all the things I could think of, my pity party turned into a praise party.  And, tears of joy fell from my eyes as I saw the same little hands he used to get my attention, slip under the door.  God's precious reminder to me of these verses:

 Psalm 37:23-24 The LORD directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the LORD holds them by the hand.

For the Weary On Mothers Day Weekend

Her eyes beam and her expression says it all...sweet girl cannot wait to give me the Mother's Day gift that she made for me at school.  "Open it, Mommy!" she exclaims in a half-whisper as if she's waiting to exhale until I see the present.  I open it and smile.  In that picture frame is a beautiful silhouette of my Kindergartner.  My first born.  My only daughter.

The tears begin to fall.  She grins, breathes out, and hugs me.  She knows that with "happy tears" comes much joy, much appreciation.  She knows that I love the gift.

That gift...that silhouette...represents the very thing that we named our sweet girl's middle name after...Hope.

Hope when I took dozens of pregnancy tests, practically willing an inanimate object to have two lines, but it always only having one.

Hope when the doctor looked at me and said, "The chances of you conceiving are very slim and even if you do conceive you will miscarry."

Hope when all chances of being someone's mommy seemed so far out of reach.

Hope when I waited with anticipation for an image to come onto the ultra sound and then, just like my sweet girl, I half-whispered to my husband, "Jared!" because there in what we thought would be forever barren was life.  I cried, and then, I exhaled.

But before that moment came so much grief.  So much agony.  So much pain.  

And the place I am in now, Christian author Ann Voskamp refers to it as the Ugly-Beautiful.  When something beautiful comes out of something that seemed so ugly, so dark, so overwhelming.

The ugly-beautiful...it's why I love Mother's Day, and, it's why I hate it. Hate is a strong word, suited only for those things we detest the most.  Hate is fitting for this.

Because while I'm celebrating the beautiful, someone else is wrestling with the ugly.  Someone is coming to terms with the loss of a child.  A miscarriage...a stillbirth...a death of a child who breathed on this earth...it's all just LOSS.  Someone is throwing a pregnancy test across the bathroom and when it hits the wall and falls to the ground, it's as if another piece of her heart falls right along with it.  Someone is trying to navigate this journey of life without the "unconditional" love of a mother because for some reason her mother's love is conditional.  Someone is grieving the loss of her own mother, longing for just one more day to celebrate her.

I still cringe when I walk into church on Mother's Day.  I don't think I ever will forget, but I also pray that I never will forget the brokenness I felt when I longed for the one "thing" that I couldn't have.  When I prayed that there wouldn't be a baby dedication.  When I held my breath just waiting to see if the sermon was going to be directed towards mamas.  When I longed to run out of the church in despair because though I already had two babies, I had learned only nine days earlier that our third would never take a breath this side of heaven and I was grieving.  In all of it I was grieving.

When you've walked the journey of infertility...and of loss...you can recognize those who are hiding behind fake smiles.  Those whose eyes hold glimpses of pain.  Those who can't even look you in the eye.  Those who sit through the dedications and dab their eyes, trying to will themselves not to cry.  Those whose stoic expressions show that they are just over it...just over the weekend...just over the day...just ready for Monday.

I want to run up to them and tell them that I know.  That I've been there.  That I can pray.  I don't dare do that though.  I can't.  I will not call out their struggle when they have not shared it with me.  Oh, but if  I could, I would wrap my arms around those who are suffering - some of whom may be reading this blog.

So for those of you who are in that place right now, let me tell you what I would say if I could speak to you in person.  I would first tell you that I am praying fervently for you - especially on this weekend.  I would tell you that I know it's ugly...I know it hurts...I know that it just plain sucks.  I would show you what I noticed tonight when I turned off the lamp that shone on my girl's silhouette.  I saw darkness.  "Um, OK?" you say. Here's what I realized...even though it was dark, the gift remained.  The present that represents hope was still there...I just couldn't see it.  And, precious one, there is a gift of hope for you...just waiting in the dark.  The gift of hope that comes from the Giver of hope is not lost, and when the dawn comes and the light begins to shine, you will notice that it was there all along.  The Hope in the dark.  The beauty in the ugly.  The joy in the suffering.

May you find rest in Him.

Romans 5

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; 4 and perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

God's Got This

Two years ago today I laid on that cold, sterile bed looking at an ultrasound that showed a beautiful baby whose heart had stopped beating right at 12 weeks old and I remember thinking, "God, You HAVE to help me in this."

The night before, my husband - my rock - posted a quote from our Pastor that he heard while listening to a sermon preached a few years before.  We had NO clue this quote would ring so true in our lives just hours later.  No clue that it would bring comfort to our shattered hearts.  That's God...working when we didn't even know what was coming.  

"God has never disappointed anybody who has trusted Him. You won't be the first. He sees the tears that are falling now, He knows the concern and the heaviness and He's just smiling because He already knows the date, He already knows how He's going to bring it to pass that will cause you to say, 'Thank you, Jesus,' one more time. And when He does it -- this is experience talking -- He never does it exactly the way you pray it. That's why you have to pray according to His will. 'Lord, you bring it to pass in a way that You see fit.' So don't get shocked or disappointed. Just know that when He does answer, it will be far better than the way you asked for it to be answered, because God's ways are better than our ways." -- Pastor Loran Livingston

This statement...so true.  This day reminds us of painful memories of a horrible time of loss. This day reminds us of how God kept us, loved us, and sustained us during our darkest moments.  God orchestrated many details during that time to show Himself to us mightily. We stood in awe.  We stand in awe.

Then, restoration came.  He answered our grief stricken prayers.  350 days later we welcomed our absolutely joyful Gideon into the world   Pain...joy...loss...new life.  It's all mixed together.  We do say, "Thank you, Jesus" for it all.  For it ALL. 

If you are in a dark place today, know that God is working in ALL things and is good at ALL times. Some situations in this life will never make sense.  Some we will never fully recover from.  Still, He will draw near to you.  He will comfort you.  He will help you.  He will sustain you.

"If you're in panic, Jesus won't allow you to be defeated or destroyed through this.  It's going to make you more like Him."  - Our pastor...yesterday.  Years later, still preaching about His goodness. God's grace really is amazing.