Chance, or Something Else?

My husband recently wrote a piece entitled "Ten Quotes That Changed My Life."  I was intrigued by the thought as I read it, and my mind has been composing my own list ever since, making me realize my life has indeed been impacted and forever altered because of both written and spoken words.

Coupled with that realization was a recent walk through a bookstore and the face of a book I spotted with a title along the lines of Chance Encounters That Changed My Life.  I didn't pick up the book, but the title started another list of top tens in my mind.  When I pause and consider my life as a timeline, I can see the random encounters with a few people pop up in big, block letters.  It was those "chance" conversations that altered a course, changed my direction. 

The friend who casually invited me to a youth group where I met a youth pastor who invited me to a missions organization's rally where I heard about a group I would eventually travel with to a far-away nation where I would have my life forever marked with a passion for sharing the gospel on foreign soil.

The aquaintance who happened to tell me about a drama team that was auditioning for new members, which I attended and where I met my future husband.

The pastor I met at a friend's wedding rehearsal who would eventually become our pastor and take us under his wing, sending us out to the city in which we lived for fourteen years as leaders of a church plant.

The church meeting we attended at someone else's church and by someone else's suggestion where we happened to buy a book that changed the course of our ministry and gave it sustaining purpose.

Seemingly small conversations that led to big revelations.  Seemingly small events that led to huge changes.

Chance encounters that weren't by chance, after all, but rather part of the big picture we can not see as we live out the minute moments of our lives.

Those life-altering words could happen in the very next phone conversation.  The course of your future could change through one encounter on the very next trip to the grocery store. 

And I find myself wondering if there were others.  Other words, other encounters that I sailed right through, never picking up on their significance, never seeing the stamp of God on the ordinary that was meant to change my life.

So I kneel and pray that I don't miss them. 

I pray my ears will always hear His voice, speaking when I least expect it, "Pay attention to this, baby.  I'm sending these words, this encounter to you, and they come with a gift attached.  Don't miss out on the opening."

And I look forward to the next package, wrapped in the chance encounter.

Like A Little Child

When Keegan, my oldest, was little, he was the king of adorable baby talk.  There was "strawbabies" for strawberries.  "Crash can" for trash can.  And my favorite, the basketball "hoot" for that hoop he couldn't quite seem to successfully locate with his tiny, foam ball.

And then there was this.  "Hold your Keegy, Daddy."

Ahhhhhh.  It melted my heart every time to see the tiny person version of his father standing on the tops of his dad's feet, arms stretched up over his head.  And then that sweet command.

"Hold your Keegy, Daddy."

I loved it.  I loved his confidence, the certainty with which he knew what would happen next.  His dad was about to look down, smile, bend over, engulf him in a huge embrace, and pick him up to nestle him into his shoulder.  He was confident because it happened every single time.  Something in his little boy heart knew a good father can not resist those words, that entreaty.  His father couldn't ignore the profound request behind those four small words. 

I need you.

I trust you.

I want to be close to your heart.

They make sense coming from a child.  But, somewhere in the growing up and the getting tough, it's easy to believe we are to put the baby talk behind us and to grow beyond the need of being held.

And so it happened today, when I found my mind stuck in a painful loop, that I was stunned for the Lord to whisper to my heart that I can say those same words.  The reminder came sweetly, through the words of a song I knew twenty years ago.

Hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf,
You have been my King of Glory,
Won't you be my Prince of Peace.
(by Rich Mullins)

 And I stretch my arms to the heavens and tip my head to the sky.

"Hold your Mindy, Daddy."

 

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)

What To Do When Someone Hurts Your Child

Ever since I was a little girl, I've read the Christmas story from Mary's perspective.  What would it have been like to birth the Savior of the world?  After a pregnancy where everyone thought the worst of you?  And what was it like to experience that birth far from home, away from your own mother, with only your young, terrified husband to hold your hand?  The birth of Jesus was a miracle in many ways, and one of them was that a young teenage girl said yes to the whole thing, trusting God to sort out the details of her very real life.

But, I'm certain the birth wasn't the hardest part for Mary.  For, just days later, she would hear the words no mother ever wants to hear at her baby's dedication service, spoken by a prophet who whispered them while looking deep into her eyes, "And a sword will pierce your own heart, also."  (Luke 2: 35)


What could she have thought upon hearing those words?  She had no frame of reference for what was coming.  She hadn't yet read the back of the book. 


She found out in real time that not everyone would believe He was who she always knew He was.  That people close to her would turn on him, betraying Him into hands that sought to kill the life she brought in to the world.  That He would die on a cross being mocked and spat upon by the very ones she knew He loved more than Himself.  And it's that part of Mary's story that both breaks my heart and captures my respect.

Because just recently, I watched a child born of my body experience hurt at the hands of someone else.  It was small in the great scheme of life, the kind of thing that most everyone experiences in junior high.  But, it brought tears and pain and confusion to one I love more than my next breath.  And in that moment, I didn't want to sit on the sidelines and pray.  I didn't want to counsel forgiveness.  I wanted to crawl out of my mama bear cave, stand on my hind legs, and roar until I could force retribution.  I wanted to fix it.  And fix it with vengeance.


But, I didn't get to.  Because that's not the way of the God I serve.  Instead, I held my child close to my heart, waited for the tears to stop, and we prayed.  We released the one who had done the wounding and we asked the Lord to bless them.  I admit that a little later, I also had to quietly ask the Lord to forgive the angry thoughts I had entertained that may have involved super glue and a flagpole, but the point is, in that mama bear moment, my child needed me to model a life value.  Because my babies won't always have me around to run to.  But, they will always have the God we can go to together.  And He is there for both of us, just like He was there for Mary.


He was there when she birthed her vagabond son in a stable.  He was still there in her panic when she realized she had left her pre-teen in Jerusalem and was a three day journey away from him.  And He was there again when she watched the man she knew to be completely innocent of sin murdered on a cross for her own sin.


He was there.  He was there for her and He was there for her son.  He was there because that boy was also His son.


And that's what brings peace in the moments when we watch our children walk through pain.  The truth that, even more than being bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh, these children belong to Him.  He loves them more than we can fathom.  He has a plan for their lives, one for hope and a future.  And He will never leave them.  They are His.

Advent Devotional, Week Four

Author's Note:  This is last 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 4 Advent Devotional - "Protection"

Opening Question: What trip have we taken as a family that you enjoyed that most? 

During our time together today, we are going to look a trip Jesus took with his parents when He was just a baby.  Mary and Joseph didn't have a car seat, or even a car, but they packed up their tiny baby and traveled over 300 miles for a very important reason.

 

READ:  Matthew 2:1-12
 
“After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written: “‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.’ Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared.  He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.” 


After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.


And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route. When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up,” he said, “take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.” So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt, where he stayed until the death of Herod. And so was fulfilled what the Lord had said through the prophet: “Out of Egypt I called my son.”


When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled: “A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.” 


After Herod died, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who were trying to take the child’s life are dead.” So he got up, took the child and his mother and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning in Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. Having been warned in a dream, he withdrew to the district of Galilee, and he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene."


[NOTE:  for very young children who may not be ready for a discussion about Herod's killing of children, parents may wish to not read the bold print aloud.]


Herod wanted to kill Jesus because he was afraid of another king taking his place.  He didn't realize that Jesus was not coming to sit on the throne in Jerusalem, but to save us from sin.  So, he wanted attack Jesus because he did not understand who Jesus was and what he was doing.  Herod did not feel secure and safe as a king, so he was jealous of anyone else who might be a better king than he was.


A lot of times when people hurt us our hurt our feelings, it's because they don't feel good about themselves. 


ASK:  [younger children]  When someone hurts our feelings, how can we pray for them?  (that they would understand they are important to God.)


ASK:  [older children] Have you ever hurt someone or hurt their feelings because you didn't feel good about YOU?  How can you make sure this does not become a pattern in your life?


God protected Jesus from Herod by sending Him to Egypt.  This was the very place God's people had been slaves hundreds of years before, until God called Moses to lead them out! 


ASK:  Why do you think God would send Jesus THERE?  (Younger children should be helped to arrive at the conclusion that no one would think to look for Him there, but older children can be helped to find the deeper truth that God was making a statement that Jesus had come to lead us all out of the slavery of sin.)


If God had not protected His son as a baby, Jesus would not have been able to die for us on the cross.  God could see the whole, big picture, and He knew just what to do.  When God protected Jesus, He protected US, too!


Closing Question:  What things does God want YOU to do in the future?  How is He protecting you even now so that you can do those things?

Advent Devotional, Week Two

Author's Note:  This is part two 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 2 Advent Devotional - "Security"

Opening Question: What is something you don't like to do alone?  (Parents, with younger children, you can go first to set the tone.  Example:  folding sheets, going to the dentist, etc.)

ASK [younger children]:  What are some of the names we studied last week that Jesus is called?  (Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace)

ASK [older children]:  Has the Lord done anything else in your heart regarding names/labels after we talked about it last week?

During our time together today, we are going to look at one more name Jesus is called.  It was prophesied in the Old Testament in the book of Isaiah, chapter 7.  It's mentioned again in the book of Matthew after Jesus was born.

 

READ: “All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel”—which means, “God with us.” – Matthew 1:22-23

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, it meant that He had left His Father's home in Heaven and come to live with us here on earth.  He chose to put on a body like ours and come live here with people so that He could show us how to become God's children.  

After He died, He went back to Heaven to stay with God there.  But, He really didn't leave us, because He sent someone to stay with us here until He comes back to get us.

 

ASK:  Who did He send to stay here with us?  (the Holy Spirit) 

[Older children can read John 15 with you at this point in the discussion.  Help them make the connection that the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Christ, who lives within us 24/7.]

ASK:  If God is Emmanuel, and His spirit is with us at all times, are we ever truly alone?   Why do we FEEL alone sometimes?  (we forget He's there, we don't stop to listen to His voice, we have trouble seeing/understanding what He's doing, etc.)

No matter what we feel, the promise of God is that Jesus is "God with us."  This means He was with us years ago when we were born, He's with us right now, and He will be waiting for us in our tomorrow.


ASK:  [younger children]  How can we remember God's promise that He's always with us?  [Consider having each child make a poster to hang close to their bed that shows God is with them, even when they feel like they are alone.]


ASK:  [older children]  Which one of these means the most to you right now?  That God was in your past, that He's in your present, or that He will be in your future?

 

Close with prayer over your children.  Parents, this is a great opportunity to talk to your children about the fact that God will always be with them, and that you are also available to them when they need to talk or when they feel alone.  Let them know that is why God puts people in families, so that they are not lonely.  (Ps. 68:6)

What Does the Bible Say About Fear?

Fear is the most crippling enemy a soul can ever face.  If it is trying to overtake you today, let your heart meditate on the words of Scripture, the best tool for combatting any enemy. 


Even as a follower of Jesus, there may be many things in this life that cause rocks of fear to be hurled at you.  Some are pebbles.  Others are boulders.  The key is to never pick up the rocks. 


Instead, build your house with the cornerstone of who God is, your hope and your defense.


Here are ten verses that will shore up your house today, all from the Message Bible (because sometimes it's good to shake up familiar words with a fresh understanding).  Let your heart take delight in the Mightiness of your God...

• “Be strong. Take courage. Don’t be intimidated. Don’t give them a second thought because God, your God, is striding ahead of you. He’s right there with you. He won’t let you down; he won’t leave you.”  - Deuteronomy 31:6

• "Hezekiah rallied the people, saying, 'Be strong! Take courage! Don’t be intimidated by the king of Assyria and his troops—there are more on our side than on their side. He only has a bunch of mere men; we have our God to help us and fight for us!'  Morale surged. Hezekiah’s words put steel in their spines."  - 2 Chronicles 32:6-8

• "Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I’m not afraid when you walk at my side.  Your trusty shepherd’s crook makes me feel secure."  - Psalm 23:4

• "Light, space, zest—that’s God!  So, with him on my side I’m fearless, afraid of no one and nothing."  - Psalm 27:1

• When I get really afraid I come to you in trust.  I’m proud to praise God; fearless now, I trust in God.  What can mere mortals do?"  - Psalm 56:3-4

• “But you, Israel, are my servant.  You’re Jacob, my first choice, descendants of my good friend Abraham.  I pulled you in from all over the world, called you in from every dark corner of the earth, telling you, ‘You’re my servant, serving on my side.  I’ve picked you. I haven’t dropped you.’  Don’t panic. I’m with you.  There’s no need to fear for I’m your God.  I’ll give you strength. I’ll help you.  I’ll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you."  - Isaiah 41:8-12

• “Don’t be intimidated. Eventually everything is going to be out in the open, and everyone will know how things really are. So don’t hesitate to go public now.  Don’t be bluffed into silence by the threats of bullies. There’s nothing they can do to your soul, your core being. Save your fear for God, who holds your entire life—body and soul—in his hands.  What’s the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail—even numbering the hairs on your head! So don’t be intimidated by all this bully talk. You’re worth more than a million canaries."  - Matthew 10:26-31

• "This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike 'What’s next, Papa?'  God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what’s coming to us—an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through the hard times with him, then we’re certainly going to go through the good times with him!"  - Romans 8:15-17

• "Don’t be obsessed with getting more material things. Be relaxed with what you have. Since God assured us, “I’ll never let you down, never walk off and leave you,” we can boldly quote, 'God is there, ready to help; I’m fearless no matter what. Who or what can get to me?'"  - Hebrews 13:5-6

• "God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we’re free of worry on Judgment Day—our standing in the world is identical with Christ’s. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.  We, though, are going to love—love and be loved. First we were loved, now we love. He loved us first."  - I John 4:17-19

A Surprising Chapter

Two summers ago, our ten year old broke his arm after only a few short hours of arriving at summer camp.  It was a quick trip to the emergency room and then home for him.  While his friends continued on with a weekend of excitement and adventure, he spent the next couple of days with his arm in a sling, waiting for the swelling to go down enough for the bone doctor to put it in a cast.

He was a trooper.  Didn't complain much.  But, you could see the disappointment in his eyes for days. 

And now, two summers later, out of the blue, came a gift.

His dad was asked to be the camp pastor this year, which meant mom and dad would both be attending kids' camp.  But, the older brothers would be away on a hiking expedition. 

Which left one lone boy who needed a place to be.  He would get to come to kids' camp again, even though he is now in middle school and shouldn't have been able to attend.  When he heard he could stay in the cabin with his parents and still take part in all the exciting activities, his eyes shone.

"Mom," he said while we were packing.  "I think this is God's way of making that summer up to me.  An extra year at camp."

And of course it is.

For God is a God of second chances.  Of gifts and surprises.  Of redemption.

Watching my boy roam the campground last weekend was pure delight.  He sure knows how to enjoy a present. 

And now he also knows an important truth.  His story might have some disappointing chapters, but it's never over when the book is in his God's hands.  There is always a new page to turn.

A Mother's Prayer

My son was in an accident a couple of weeks ago.  It was in a school vehicle with several other students, and it could have been very, very bad.  But, it wasn't.  Everyone is safe.
 
It took my heart several days to sort through the emotions that rose up during that first phone call.  It's taken many more not to allow fear to dominate when I see him pull out of the driveway in his own truck.
 
We are fragile creatures, us mothers, our hearts battered daily by this call to raise human beings.  A call that demands we let those same human beings, once tiny in our arms, loose to fly on their own.  It's that process of wrenching the heart in a million different ways, a different one every day, that envoke the apron string jokes and the pillows in boutiques with large letters emblazoned, "Call Your Mother."  Because it's a life-long wrenching.  It never stops.
 
And that kind of constant wrenching hurts.
 
And is exquisitely beautiful at the same time.
 
Because without the wrenching, the babies don't fly. 
 
Without the wrenching, no nests are ever built, one generation turning into the next.
 
Without the wrenching, a mother's job is not fulfilled.
 
So, it was not lost on me the gift my God gave me this week.
 
A nest.  Built in the lantern on my front porch.  A nest built by a mama who sits and waits patiently every day for her babies.  A mama who flies away every time the front door opens, protecting her young by drawing attention away from her brood.
 
But now, in a few short weeks, I'll be reminded all over again, that a mama's tucking of the feathers around her babies lasts only for a season.  And then it's time for them to fly.
 
God's voice spoke gently, but it was clear.  "You get them for a while.  To tuck and to nurture.  But, you can't hold them back.  They weren't born for the nest."
 
The wrenching hurts.  But, it's good. 
 
Today, I held up the camera to snap a photo, wanting to see how many eggs the mama ended up with in her nest.
 
When the camera came back down and I saw the number, my tears flowed.
 
"Thank you, God, for the gift of my babies.  I treasure them.  And I will let them fly."
 

 

 
Author's Note:  Happy Mother's Day to all the mamas who read Treasure the Ordinary.  Blessings to you as you celebrate the beautiful call that has been yours because a child was born to your nest.

My Gardener

"When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Your consolations delight my soul."  - Psalms 94:19

I commented to my husband this morning that with my poor gardening skills, weeds are the only thing that seem to grow for me without a great deal of effort.  He responded, "That's true for everyone.  I've never heard anybody say, 'Man, I just can't keep those roses out of my yard!'"

Our conversation made me laugh, but the truth of it is ringing in my soul today.  The seeds that need to grow in my heart are often the ones I neglect, while the crops that spring up without any care on my end are the ones I really don't want to be harvesting.

Especially the seeds of worry.

I don't have to work hard to get a worry harvest.  It seems to come faithfully, all by itself.  And what an abundant crop it can be, multiplying again and again from one small, errant thought.

It's why Psalm 94:19  is such a balm to my heart. 

When my anxious thoughts are threatening to stomp out all of the life within my soul, He comes like the gentle gardener that He is. 

And prunes. 

And burns. 

And breathes. 

And nurtures.

And grows.

What a relief to give Him the harvest I do not want today, and receive instead the beautiful fruit in His outstretched hand.

Dear Seven Year Old Me

Twenty-nine years ago today, the seven year old version of me decided to become a follower of Jesus.  Compared to other childhood memories, I remember it quite clearly. 

I can picture myself in the Sunday School room of the church where my parents served on staff.  I can remember the teacher talking about the time she asked Jesus to be her Savior.  She went on to something else, but my mind didn't.  I could only hear those words "asked Jesus," over and over.

It was Wednesday of that same week, when the words were still resonating in my little girl heart, that I went to my mother and asked her to help me ask Jesus to be my Savior.  She was nervous, wanting to get it right.  She asked me if I could wait until Daddy got home.  But, I didn't want to wait, so we sat together and, in the space of one moment to the next, I passed the threshold into a new life.

Who could wait?  When your bridegroom is waiting for you with baited breath at the door, who wants to tell Him to wait?  When your new home is waiting for you in a glorious Kingdom, who wants to pass the mundane hours until Dad gets home?

And when I think about that girl, with a heart full of love for her Jesus, I feel so tender towards her.  She was young and innocent and full of trust.  She heard the Word, treasured it, believed it, and acted on it.

And she was changed.

No, she wasn't leaving behind a life of crime or drugs at the ripe old age of seven.  But, her change was still real.

She left darkness, and she took up residence in the light.

I can see her crawling into bed that night under her pink bedspread, whispering her prayers to her new Savior.  I can see her smile.  I can see her confidence that came from believing with her childlike faith that God is good and He loves her.

And if I, the twenty-nine years later version of me, could hold that girl in my arms on that day, I would rock her to sleep and tell her a few things. 

She doesn't need to know all the specifics.  They are better left to be discovered.  She doesn't need to know the names of the victories ahead, or the faces of the heartache that's coming. 

She just needs to know this:

Sweet girl, it won't always be easy, this road you have chosen.  There will be times when you will be asked to sacrifice and times you will need to go through the narrow gate, when the wider one seems so much more fun and convenient.  There will be times when people around you won't understand the decision you made or the decisions you will have to make to stay true to your first love.  There will be times when you feel like you can't see God and don't understand what He's doing.

But, little one, your faith is real.  It has changed you.  He has changed you.  And the best news of all, you will never, ever be alone again.  The one thing you've always feared---it can never happen, now.  No matter what, you will never be alone. 

The lover of your soul has joined His heart to yours now.  You have become one flesh with the One who died for you.  And He will never leave you or abandon you.

Instead, He will massage the wounds in your little heart until you no longer believe the lies that you are rejectable.  He will heal you with His love and unconditional acceptance.  He will transform you into what you have always desired to be.

So, sleep tight, little girl.  There are mountains ahead to be climbed, and views so glorious to behold, your dreams tonight can't compare.  There is a life to be lived that started today.  And it's a beautiful life.  A beautiful life joined to a beautiful God. 

The God who saves. 

The God who rescues. 

The God who delivers. 

The God who heals. 

The God who restores.

You can trust Him.


Author's Note:  If you are reading this today and are looking for what that seven year old girl found, you can meet Him---His healing is for you, too.  Click here to read more.  You don't even have to wait for your dad to get home.

Yes and Amen

This last Monday, as I was preparing to leave for a few days away, I hurriedly packed a lunch for my son.  He still likes a note in a lunchbox (a fact that pleases me to no end), but prefers them to be funny or have some kind of riddle to solve.  In other words, no mushy love notes that might cause him to get the wrong kind of lunch-time attention!  Our compromise: we have an understanding that if any mushy notes find their way into his lunchbox, they will be buried on the bottom, under the sandwich, and marked "TOP SECRET."  That way, he can read it on the sly and no one's the wiser.  (I hesitated to write of our secret, but I figure there probably aren't any fifth grade boys reading "Treasure the Ordinary," so I think I'm pretty safe!)

Monday morning called for a mushy note, as I wouldn't see him for three days.  And just as I buried the napkin declaring my love for a certain blonde ten year old, his sister saw what I was doing.

"A top secret note?  I want a top secret note!" she pleaded, her huge gray eyes lighting up.

"But, you're not taking your lunch today.  You're eating in the cafeteria." 

"Well, maybe I should take my lunch, then."

That did it.  I didn't have the time to start on another lunch at such late notice.  I quickly headed off the morning rush catastrophe by telling her I would put a Top Secret note inside her backpack for her to read while she was at school.  This solved everything--a secret note AND the school's chicken burger, which she happens to really like.  It's a both/and world she's living in.

Only it wasn't. I forgot. 

I have no idea how it happened.  Too many things on my mind, I guess.  But, it wasn't until I was two and a half hours down the highway that I remembered.  And I was miserable, picturing a little girl excitedly opening her backpack to find her top secret note and discovering that she must have been disavowed as a spy, or, even worse, that her mom didn't keep her word.

And that's what was really bothering me.  For the last fifteen years, as we've been on this wild adventure of parenthood, my husband and I have had one very important commitment to our children.  We keep our word.  Which is not always easy.  It's taught us to be very careful as to what we commit to.  We learned pretty quickly not to announce our plans way in advance, as plans can change, and we we wanted our kids to know that if we said we were going to do something, we were going to do it.  It's probably why we're still in the habit of not announcing the "special treat plans" until we are in the car, backing out of the driveway!

So, my forgetfulness left me in a dilemna.  I finally decided I needed to make amends via the phone, which meant recording a "top secret" voice message and sending it to her daddy with the strict instructions that only a very specific eight year old girl could listen.

Success. 

I was forgiven of my absent-mindedness in the thrill of receiving a spy-worthy voice recording.  Oh, sweet absolution.

And while I'm grateful for the second chance in the promise-keeping department with my little girl, I'm still very aware of how many times I fail to keep my word in my other relationships. 

The offer to pray for a friend that I don't think about again.

The commitment to myself not to do "that" again.

The promise to the Lord I gave in a moment of earnestness that too soon fades into apathy.

And my shortcomings make me grateful.  Grateful that I serve a God who does not forget His promises, and has never failed to fulfill even one of them.

"For no matter how many promises God has made, they are 'Yes' in Christ. And so through him the 'Amen' is spoken by us to the glory of God." (2 Corinthians 1:20)

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!" (Isaiah 49:15)

His promises are written all throughout His word, and each and every one has been bought and paid for. 

Each and every one are still redeemable, with no expiration date. 

And each and every one are for me.

Just another reason why I love the Promise Giver.  And just another reason I want to be like Him.

A Dream Fulfilled

All my life, I've dreamed of owning a cottage nestled into a grove of beautiful trees--aspen trees, with a weeping willow thrown in for artistic measure.  And a stream running behind it, and an arbor leading into my flower garden.  The cottage would be a creamy yellow, with stone and ivy and a picket fence and flower baskets and...

And I live in West Texas.

It's where we're supposed to be, and I don't begrudge it for a moment.  But, I do occasionally peruse pictures on Pinterest of the perfect cottage and sigh.  A sigh for a dream that seems impossibly out of reach among mesquite trees and cotton fields.

And there are so many other dreams.  Bigger dreams.  Dreams that my heart still races after, even after the years have come and gone.  Even after the dreams have grown past the newborn stage, marched right through the teenage angst, and are now still seemingly unfulfilled as they approach middle-age.

New dreams are thrilling, because anything seems possible when a dream is born.  But, old dreams can hurt when "hope deferred makes the heart sick."  (Proverbs 13:12)

And that's why there are tears in my eyes as I pore over paint samples this week.

In honor of our tenth year of pastoral ministry in our city, our church has paid to have our house painted.  It's something we couldn't have done on our own.  A gift so large, it awakened a dream.

For I hold in my hand a paint sample titled simply, "Cream Yellow."

And as I sit in my front yard and picture what my home will look like when it's painted, I have to laugh outloud at how good my Father is.  To answer dreams.

For my stucco house will be a creamy yellow-- nestled in a grove of pecan trees, with a pine thrown in for artistic measure.  And a dry creek running behind it, with an arbor set into my picket fence leading to my salsa garden and a zipline...

A dream realized.  Maybe a little different.  Maybe even better.

The Gift of Presence

He'd been at camp less than twelve hours when we got the phone call.  Our ten year old had a mishap with a tree and a rock.  His arm looked broken.  They were taking him to the emergency room.

My husband and I were a two and a half hour drive away---a long, long road when your baby is at the hospital without you.  I talked to him on the phone, helped him take big breaths, prayed over him, and assured him everything was going to be fine.  Then I hung up and did the same thing for myself. 

A few minutes later, another phone call.  His little sister was still at camp and was sobbing into the phone.  She hadn't seen him leave, just knew he was hurt.  She was scared for him, her best friend.  I talked to her, helped her take some big breaths, prayed over her, and assured her everything was going to be fine.  Then I hung up and did the same thing for myself once again.

We heard back a few minutes later that our daughter was peaceful and heading to bed.  Someone asked her what her mama had said to her.   She told her I said, "Jesus is with him."

I'm not sure I actually said those words, but they were the ones she needed to hear.  They were also the ones I needed to hear.

When I can't be there to hold my baby, Jesus is. 

When I don't know what to say, He does.

When I can't carry it on my shoulders, He can.

When I can't sleep for the storm, I can pull my mat up next to His and listen to His heartbeat instead of the waves.  (Luke 8)

And I'm eternally grateful for the gift of His presence.  The presence that goes before me and behind me.  The presence that covers me and lifts me.  The presence that is also with the ones I love the most.

When I held my exhausted son in my arms a couple of hours later, I knew for sure he had not been alone.  My heart was at peace as he reached out the arm that wasn't in a splint and wrapped it around my neck.  And I whispered my thanks for the arms that encircled us both.

The Answer to Needs

The oldest turns fifteen this summer.  Time to teach him to drive.  The thought of watching him pull out of the driveway and head down the highway next to our house makes my heart feel the weight of the responsibility of making sure he's good at it. 

And then there's the one who will be fitted for contacts next week.  They're expensive, but will help him in his chosen sport.  The sport we encouraged him to get involved in because we believed it would help build self-confidence.  It's working, and it's worth the two hours a week and a hundred dollars a month.

And the one who just got glasses himself.  He's still getting used to putting them on in the morning and not leaving them laying around, so we've needed to give a lot of reminders and teach, and reteach, and reteach again.

And the girl whose first ballet recital is coming up.  She's nervous and excited and ready to shine, buoyed on by the smiles of her parents and the applause she receives when she practices in the living room.

And the one who needs a dentist appointment.

And all three that need a haircut.

And the relationship between two of them that is requiring extra nurturing.

And the son who has forgotten how to spend time with the Lord in the morning and could use time with a parent reading him the Word when he wakes up so he can remember how to go slowly and glean.

And the daughter who is memorizing a special verse at the moment because her mommy thinks it will help her dwell on the things that should be dwelled on.

And the four pairs of eyes that are being taught what's best to look at, and what should not be viewed.

And the four pairs of lips that are being trained how to build one another up and how to remain true and faithful to one another.

And one who needs to know she can hear God.  And the one who needs to know he is bigger than what he sees in the mirror.  And the one who needs to know he has powerful gifts, even if they don't look like the ones he admires in other people.  And the one who needs to know he's a son of the Most High God, not a slave.

And the table manners that have somehow slidden backwards and have sent a mom scrambling for a plan to make genteel eaters out of ruffians.

So many needs.  Some big.  Some small.  All important to me.

If I ever get overwhelmed as a mother, it's when I sit and ponder the needs, wondering how I can ever meet them all. 

And if I ever get delivered from fear that I'm not enough, it's when I remember I have a Father, too.

I have a Father who knows my needs.  My kids' needs.  Your needs.  My neighbor's needs.

How overwhelming that would be.  To know the needs of each of your children, all over the world.  The big ones.  The small ones.  The nation-sized ones.

Yet, He is never not enough.  He always knows.  He always has an answer, a plan.

And I offer him my precious treasures, the children He gave me.  And we talk about their needs together.  And He speaks.  And He gives me strategies for the ones I can help with.  And He tells me He'll work on the ones I can't. 

I leave that place lighter, the weight of the needs having shifted in the yoke to the One who can carry them better than me.

And I give thanks that even in the moment of recognizing the next need, I can crawl into His lap and whisper it in His ear.  "Come, Daddy, to this one.  We need You."