Life Together

"As I was praying for you..."

That was the first sentence in a letter I received this week, sweetly tucked in with a beautiful gift of flowers and watercolor print.  The rest of it chronicled her prayers over my life and what she could see God doing in this season I'm in.  It was from one of the ladies in my monthly dinner group, and was quietly dropped off to my office while I was out running errands.  

This group of women has been meeting together since the first of the year.  We have a date, the second Thursday of the month, that's now blocked off for gathering around the table.  We eat, we talk, we laugh, we pray, and we eat some more.

And even though I always know it's going to be fun, sometimes I don't feel like gathering.  Since it's at my house, gathering means cleaning (I've tried not to worry about this, but I can't not worry about it), cooking, and finding some place for my family to eat dinner without making a mess of what I just cleaned.  It never fails that I end up being tired that day and wish I could warm up a frozen pizza for my family and eat dinner in my bathrobe.

But, I am always, without fail, so glad that we gathered.  Every time the last woman leaves the front porch after that one last goodbye chat, I am thrilled that I get to share my life with them and partake of theirs.  They are all so beautiful and so valuable, and when we share a meal together and then take the deep breath and jump into the pool of vulnerability month after month, their beauty and value spills over the wall of their own life and flows into mine.

This is the way women were meant to be together.  Friends.  Confidants.  Champions of each other.  It's what every little girl is looking for when she heads into the lunch room and wonders where to sit.  It's what grown women still long for when they find themselves in transition and wonder where their safe place is. 

And it doesn't happen by accident.  Because life is crazy, and families are demanding, and vulnerability is terrifying.  There is only one way it happens.  It happens when you decide you have to have it and that it's a vital part of shepherding your heart and having something to give to the people you love.  It happens when you take a risk and throw open the door to your home and your heart at the same time.  It happens when you welcome the beauty of the woman next to you into your life and tell your own insecurities they can not dictate your parameters to you anymore. 

And the reward of letting go and diving in is the note and the flowers and the watercolor that speak life to your soul because someone loves you and is praying for you and listening to what God has to say about her friend..  It's the text you can send in the middle of the night when your kid is sick and you're scared.  It's the lunch you know you can grab in the middle of the week that will connect your heart in a matter of four minutes, before the bread even comes. It's the long phone call when you're a mess and don't want anyone to know, but also know you can't afford for anyone not to know.  A reward beyond price.

Last week, we met at a restaurant instead of my house, because life.  

And I noticed the ladies around the table all had a hard time getting there, because life.  

There was a lot of weariness in the eyes as we sat down, because life.  

But, after thick bowls of pasta and laughing until we snorted, I also noticed that the walk to our cars looked different.  We were full of energy, and our smiles were in our eyes.  

Because life together.

Simple Prayers

"On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, 'They have no more wine.'"  (John 2:1-3)


As a mother of three sons, Mary's relationship with Jesus intrigues me.  There are not a lot of details of his growing up years.  There's his birth, his dedication, his foray into the temple.  And then there's this simple, yet worldchanging story of attending a village wedding with his mom.


I love to imagine him there.  Eating the wedding feast.  Singing the songs of blessing over the couple.  Dancing to the music of celebration.  Toasting the new family's prosperity.


And then, this interruption.  The moment his mother comes to him and quietly whispers her prayer.


Because that's what it was.  A request for him to move, to act, to intervene in the natural unfolding of events with the force of the supernatural.  And I love that what moved Mary's heart to seek out Jesus wasn't to save the life of someone choking on a lamb bone, but rather to save a neighbor family from embarrassment.  She knew that running out of wine would mark the family with shame in front of the entire village, and being sensitive to those who live in shame, she simply caught Jesus' attention and said five words.

That's it.  One simple phrase.  "They have no more wine." 

There wasn't a long drawn out explanation or a detailed description of what she wanted him to do.  Just a sentence that defined the need and communicated the complete trust she had in him to make any decision that needed to be made.

And I 've come to believe that is the exact way my own prayers work best.  My prayers seem to be the most effective when I refrain from telling Jesus exactly how He should meet my needs or giving Him all the reasons why I have the need in the first place.  They seem to produce the most fruit when I simply catch his attention and whisper the equivalent to, "I have no more wine."  My simplest statements  are the ones that speak of complete dependence on who He is and my complete trust that His decisions are enough.  It's when I feel the need to explain, to beg, to tally up the words like points on a scoreboard that I find my faith in both His goodness and sovereignty is wavering. 

So, again Mary becomes a role model.  An example of presenting the need and trusting that He hears.  But, she also does one more thing.

"'Woman, why do you involve me?' Jesus replied. 'My hour has not yet come.' His mother said to the servants, 'Do whatever he tells you.'" (John 2:4-5)

She not only brought the need to His attention.  She readied the environment around Him for obedience.  She prepared the way for Him to move by aligning herself and those she had influence over in agreement with whatever command He might give after her one sentence prayer.

She prayed and she obeyed.  And it made all the difference.

"Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons.  Jesus said to the servants, 'Fill the jars with water'; so they filled them to the brim.  Then he told them, 'Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.'  They did so, and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside and said, 'Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.'"  (John 2:6-10)

Storehouse

I recently read a couple of lines that were written as a side note, but impacted me as if they were the primary message.  Tucked away treasures, hidden, yet full of potential to change hearts that take the time to ponder.


They were two small sentences from an author named Mark Batterson in his book, All In.  "[The life I live] is an answer to the prayers my father-in-law prayed for me.  His prayers did not die when he did."


And there it is.  Such a profoundly startling truth.  And such a deeply moving one.


When I close my eyes and think of the people in my life who I know have prayed for me over my lifetime, and not just said a sentence or two, but repeatedly approached the throne of Heaven on my behalf, I immediately see my grandparents.  As a child from a blended family, I have had the honor of having three sets of grandparents to speak into my raising.  And all of them prayed. 


Two grandmothers are still with me, all the rest of that generation are gone.  But, their prayers remain.   


Still effective.  Still reaping.


I once stood innocently in the produce aisle at the grocery store, putting my entire concentration into the choosing of carrots when a man walked behind me.  I never saw him, but I smelled him.  And his cologne was the one my grandfather wore.  I don't even know the name of it, but I know the smell, and I instantly found my face wet with tears.  I have them in my eyes  right now just writing that sentence, just remembering the smell of a tall man who loved to laugh, used big words, fed my infant son his first taste of ice cream without thinking to ask the mother, and walked several miles every morning.  And prayed. 


A man who prayed for his wife, his children, his grandchildren, his great-grandchildren.  Every single day.


And I'm so grateful that his prayers for me and for my family are still bringing the fragrance of remembrance into the presence of God himself.  


I often wonder if my husband and I serve in the same area that my grandfather pastored in because God thinks generationally.  But, now, I also wonder if we are not here as God's way of answering my grandfather's prayers that are still rising, the ones that must have so often been prayed for this land and for its people.


Scripture says no word from God lacks power (Luke 1:37), and I'm coming to realize that when His word is in our mouths, our words are never without power either. 


Nothing can stop the power of God.  Certainly not death.  This means that the prayers I pray today, the words and truths of God that I declare with faith, will continue on after I am gone.  They will become their own fragrances, ones that rise again and again.  They will find their way into the halls and rooms of Heaven and into the presence of the One who loves to say Amen to His words spoken by His children.  It also means that I can give a gift to my children, my grandchildren, my great-grandchildren.  I can leave a treasure for my church, my city, my nation.  I can build a storehouse of blessing. 


My prayers.  They will not die when I die.  They will live, and bring life.

Ready or Not

I now have an eighteen year old.

I have an eighteen year old.

My son is eighteen years old.

It doesn't matter how I say it or how many times I repeat it, nothing about that sentence makes any sense to my brain.  But, it's happening.  Happened already.  He's eighteen years old.

One of hardest parts is facing the fact that I'm actually old enough to have an eighteen year old.  I vividly remember turning eighteen, being eighteen, loving eighteen.  Eighteen is when I spent two months in Peru, moved to college, met my husband, and started doing grown-up things like voting, buying my license plate tags, and eating salad.  It's the year my parents moved across the nation, and I had to find my own place to live when school let out.  The year I got a real job.  The year I looked into the face of a man who wasn't too much older than me and said yes when he held out a ring with hope in his eyes.

And all of those things are here, waiting for my own child who isn't a child any more.  All of those experiences, those decisions, those learning curves, they are all lined up like mile markers in front of him because he is eighteen years old.  My son is eighteen years old.  

And I know it's not like his life is just beginning.  It's not that he's at mile one.  He's had eighteen years worth of mile markers to prepare him for this.

The first step.  The first word.  The first french fry, which I distinctly remember celebrating.  The first day of school.  The day he decided to follow Jesus.  The first week-long youth camp.  The first time he knew more math than I did, which happened closer to the french fry than the youth camp.  The first crush.  The first time he pulled out of the driveway on his own. 

They all got us here, to eighteen.  And they all made him ready to move forward.  To vote, move to college, meet someone special, eat salad.

I'm just not sure they've done anything to make me ready.

And yet, it doesn't matter.  The eighteen year old mile markers are here if I'm ready or not.  And all I know to do is the one thing I know I've learned being a mom.  I pray.  

I pray that the God who walked me through my own mile markers will hold the hand of my son and lead him through every one of life's experiences that will start coming faster and faster in this new season.  

I pray he will have courage to make the tough choices in a way that honors the God he loves.

And I pray that the God who gave me this child to begin with will hold my heart when the man he has become walks away from me.  

I pray I will have the courage to cheer him on from a distance as he faces the mile markers that don't require me to be beside him anymore.

My son is eighteen years old.

Advent Devotional, Week Three

Author's Note:  This is part three of a four part Advent devotional series for families here at Treasure the Ordinary.  May you be blessed as each of you find ways to prepare your hearts for the celebration of our King's birth.  Merry Christmas!


Week 3 Advent Devotional - "Provision"

Opening Question (Option 1): If you had a thousand dollars to spend on a present for someone, who would you buy for and what would you buy them? 

Opening Story (Option 2):  Parents, take a few minutes to tell each child about the day they were born.  Where was it?  What was happening that day?  How did you feel when you got to see them for the first time?

During our time together today, we are going to look at the place where Jesus was born.  If one of us was going to plan where Jesus would be born, we would have probably picked Jerusalem because it was the capital city  and the most important city in Israel.  But, that's not the city God chose.  Let's read a Scripture from the Old Testament that talks about what city God chose instead.

 

READ: “But you, Bethlehem, David’s country, the runt of the litter—From you will come the leader who will shepherd-rule Israel."  - Micah 5:2 (The Message Bible)

ASK:  [younger children] What does it mean to be the "runt of the litter"?  So what kind of city was Bethlehem?

ASK:  [older children] What message do you think God was sending when he chose a small, insignificant city like Bethlehem for Jesus to be born in? 

ASK:  When have YOU felt small and not important?

The enemy loves for us to feel too small for anyone to notice us.  He especially loves to tell us that we are too small for God to care about us.  But, that is not true.  Even the city that Jesus was born in is sending a message, that He came for all of us because He loves all of us, right down to the tiniest of us. 


He also knows every one of our needs, the big ones, and the tiny ones.  He saw Joseph and Mary every moment that they were traveling to Bethlehem, and He was already preparing a place for Jesus to be born.  It may have been just a dirty stable to some people, but to God, it was a safe place, away from the people who wanted to hurt baby Jesus (we're going to talk about that next week!), and it was exactly what Joseph and Mary needed.


ASK:  What is something you need right now in your life that we need to pray about?  It can be a physical need, or something your heart needs.

Close with prayer over your children.  Parents, this is a great opportunity to emphasize to your children that God sees each of them individually and knows every bit of their hear needs.  But, He still likes to hear our voices when we talk to Him.  And He also likes to speak to us in return.  Make sure you lead your kids in a time of listening as well as praying.  You may want to play a worship song at this time and encourage your children to write down what they hear God saying to them (younger children can draw a picture of what God is saying) so they learn to treasure His voice.  

Prayers for the First Day of School

Author's Note:  Four years into blogging "Treasure the Ordinary," and these posts are still the ones that are accessed the most by readers.  So, here they are together in one place, making it easy to print out and post them in a place you'll see often and be reminded of the power of blessing...


First Day of School Blessings for Children
All the backpacks are lined up by the front door.  The first day of school clothes are waiting on their hangers.  The crayons are pointed and unbroken.


My birds are asleep in the nest, ready to fly away tomorrow.  And it's this hour that a Mama kneels and prays.  She prays that the small wings will be strong as they carry her precious ones into a world not always hospitable to young things.  She prays that His breath will blow, lifting them higher, above the reach of that which would entangle. 


And she prays that they will fly safely home again.


Mama bird blessings:

• I Bless You with courage. (Joshua 1:3-9)
• I Bless You with the Father's protection. (Ps. 91)
• I Bless You with a Godly child’s heart that respects and honors his parents and authority.
• I Bless You with the Holy Spirit’s marking your life so that you stand out in a crowd.
• I Bless You with the favor of God on your life so that others want to go out of their way to do you good.
• I Bless You that people speak to you with kindness and honor.
• I Bless You with confidence in your looks and abilities: you will like who God made you to be.
• I Bless You with strategies of the Lord for your future.
• I Bless You with purity in thought, speech, and action.
• I Bless You with confidence and a complete lack of fear of man.
• I Bless You with the ability to be a good friend.
• I Bless You with the ability to be grieved by sin and the desire to make all things right with the Father.
• I Bless You with truthful lips.
• I Bless You with the ability to honor those around you, even when it costs you.
• I Bless You with the knowledge that you are a joy to your parents and that they are proud of you.
• I Bless You with the knowledge of the Father’s unconditional love for you and your parents’ unconditional love for you.
• I Bless You with the desire to pray at all times, with all kinds of prayers.
• I Bless You with the spirit of a warrior, a Godly warrior.
• I Bless You to be a blessing to everyone you meet.

First Day of School Blessings for Teachers
This morning, my husband and I stood on the front porch and watched our sixteen year old drive himself to school.  You would think as many years as we've been sending kids off on their first day of school, we wouldn't have "first day jitters" anymore.  But, they're still there. 

New year.  New grade levels.  New friends.  New habits.  New teachers.

We are sending our most valuable treasures out into the world to be taught and shaped and mentored by teachers who didn't bring them into the world, wash their clothes this weekend, or put the breakfast on the table this morning.  Teachers who care about them, but aren't their parents.  Teachers who want to see them succeed, but don't have a lifetime of equity built with them.  Teachers who can't focus on four children like we do at our house, but have an entire classroom to take care of.

And that's why I take a few minutes today to bless my children on the first day of school, but also the teachers who are entering my children's lives today:

I bless you to see the value in each of your students, the God-given gifts in each one.

I bless you with patience in your heart today, and that it will be expressed in your face and in your voice.

I bless you with joy today, the kind of joy that can laugh at the moments that didn't go your way and exalt in the moments of success.

I bless you with peace in your classroom today, the kind that can be felt when students walk in the door.

I bless you with the ability to make learning a contagious source of wonder.

I bless you with the skills to communicate well with your students, their parents,  and your peers.

I bless you with renewed vigor and energy, enough to go home and still have an enjoyable evening with your family.

I bless you with wisdom and creativity to solve the problems that come your way.

I bless you with conversations around school that encourage you and lift up your spirit.

And I bless you with a new-found passion for your job, the job that is shaping the next generation.

Amen.

Pause

"Be still and know that I am God.  I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."  - Psalm 46:10

I don’t have much to show for my two years of German in High School.  I know how to count to ten and how to sing, “I’m a foreigner and I don’t speak German very well” to the tune of “She’ll Be Coming Around the Mountain,” neither of which are all that helpful. 

However, I do have a random German phrase stuck in my head.  I can say, “Sprechen in die pausen nachs,” which means, “Speak in the pauses.”  I can do this because our teacher used to play a cassette tape (yes, I'm that old) with a woman speaking German sentences.  After each sentence, the woman on the tape would instruct us to “sprechen in die pausen nachs,” and we were then supposed to repeat her sentence.  I apparently didn’t learn any of the other sentences, but I can tell someone really well to “speak in the pauses.”

And maybe that’s a good sentence to know. 

 

In the middle of the sheer chaos of life, to choose to use my one sentence.

 

"God, I am stopping.  I am stopping everything.

 

Come speak in the pause."

Blessings for Teachers on the First Day of School

This morning, my husband and I stood on the front porch and watched our sixteen year old drive himself to school.  You would think as many years as we've been sending kids off on their first day of school, we wouldn't have "first day jitters" anymore.  But, they're still there. 

New year.  New grade levels.  New friends.  New habits.  New teachers.

We are sending our most valuable treasures out into the world to be taught and shaped and mentored by teachers who didn't bring them into the world, wash their clothes this weekend, or put the breakfast on the table this morning.  Teachers who care about them, but aren't their parents.  Teachers who want to see them succeed, but don't have a lifetime of equity built with them.  Teachers who can't focus on four children like we do at our house, but have an entire classroom to take care of.

And that's why I take a few minutes today to bless my children on the first day of school, but also the teachers who are entering my children's lives today:

I bless you to see the value in each of your students, the God-given gifts in each one.

I bless you with patience in your heart today, and that it will be expressed in your face and in your voice.

I bless you with joy today, the kind of joy that can laugh at the moments that didn't go your way and exalt in the moments of success.

I bless you with peace in your classroom today, the kind that can be felt when students walk in the door.

I bless you with the ability to make learning a contagious source of wonder.

I bless you with the skills to communicate well with your students, their parents,  and your peers.

I bless you with renewed vigor and energy, enough to go home and still have an enjoyable evening with your family.

I bless you with wisdom and creativity to solve the problems that come your way.

I bless you with conversations around school that encourage you and lift up your spirit.

And I bless you with a new-found passion for your job, the job that is shaping the next generation.

Amen.

Porch Ponderings

I have a bad feeling the following confession makes me a lazy dog owner:  My favorite way to play fetch with our doggie is in the dark.  Not because it's more fun for her, but because she can't find her fetch toy in the dark.

And oh the joy of sitting on the porch in peace while she searches high and low.

Terrible, I know.  But, she really could avoid the trauma of the fifteen minute search if she would just get smart.  As it is, every time she sees me stand to throw the toy, she takes off running in any direction that strikes her fancy at the moment.  Not once has she ever waited to watch me throw the toy to see which direction it took flight.  Not once has she ever paused to listen for where the soft thud comes from as it lands.

Nope, she's already gone, usually sniffing in the complete opposite direction from where she needed to run.

And there I've sat many a night, drinking my coffee, often giggling to myself at her persistence in the search.  She usually finds it after a long time, but sometimes I eventually have to help her, walking over to where it sits. 

It's always been funny to me.  Until last night.

Because last night, it occurred to me to wonder if God sometimes finds himself sitting on His porch, wondering when I will take the time to ask Him what His plans are before I rush out to accomplish my own.

How many times has He wished I would pause and see which direction He is heading? 

How many times has He needed me to stop and listen to His voice instead of plunging ahead into darkness?

How many times has He had to come redirect my path to avoid the dangers I couldn't see or lead me to the blessings He had waiting for me?

I don't think I'll stop playing fetch in the dark with my sweet dog.  But, I'm thinking from now on I'll use those quiet moments on the porch to ask God what He's up to. 

And then I'll spend the rest of the time just listening.

The Gift That Brings Change

I came across this picture today. 

It's the capturing of morning prayers from the first day of school, just four short months ago.  And I was struck by the timing.
 
Just this last week, I received a letter from one of our church staff.  It reminded us that the prayer team at our church had been praying since February for our family, lifting up to Heaven requests that we ourselves had made at the beginning of the new year.  The letter contained a copy of the prayer request form we had filled out.
 
As I read over the needs, I was moved by how many of them had been answered.  Some big, some small, all important to our family's hearts.
 
And I was grateful for those who have poured hours into prayer for my family.
 
When I look at this picture of my husband's hands enfolding our children and lifting up requests before the Father who loves them more than he does, I'm grateful again.

Grateful that intercession was God's idea, and such a good idea it was.

Grateful that He hears.

Grateful that prayer changes things.

Grateful that the needs we face now, in this moment, can be added to the list.

Grateful that we never have to be without it.

Imparting A Life Lesson

I took my son to vote with me today.  It was his turn, as I've taken them each one by one the last several elections.  There are several reasons I have chosen to do this.

I want him to feel confident the first time he votes, having no reason to be intimated into staying away from the polls.

I want him to understand the process of democracy and feel the weight of its privilege.

I want him to take ownership of his role in his own nation, picking up the responsibility we each carry to invest in our country.

I want him to see that people can use their voices for something other than complaining.  They can use them for action.

But there's something else we'll do as a family tonight.  We'll be praying for our government this evening before we go to bed.

Because I want him to know who to petition for real change.