when parenting feels a lot like football (and I need Jesus)

Hello again.

Hello from a season where I simply felt like I didn't have words to share.  Sometimes things are best kept to myself.  Pondered and wondered upon, before just opening my mouth.

I've been pondering how to share life, my heart, and spur and encourage and speak truth without making a big deal of me.  How do I write a blog with my words that makes very little of me and of who I am?  And makes much of Jesus in my life?  I started to believe that it was better to just not say anything at all.

But then I realized, that was more likely insecurity speaking than confidence in the Spirit.  Would Jesus want me to shut up about his goodness in my life?  No!  But Satan would.

So, I'm here.  I'm writing.  I'm continuing to seek Him in my words and what I bring to this space and have asked many for the accountability to let me know if this starts to make too much of me and not enough of Christ.

And also - if you haven't soaked in the Word of God yet today, shut your computer or your phone and read Jesus' words before mine.

So, that's been behind a lot of my writing break.  There's also the fact that I never ever want to write in a way that makes it seem like I'm complaining or I'm ungrateful.  But, let me just say it.  Two years old and 10 months old has shaken my parenting confidence.  And I've decided to write about it because I need camaraderie and encouragement.  And if I feel that way, chances are that you also need to know that you are not alone.

In all honesty, up until the past month or two, I thought I was handling this Mom-of-two deal fairly well.  I knew how to keep Isaac safe from a rampaging toddler.  Methods of choices and distraction worked about 90 percent of the time.  And I kept my cool.

I don't know what changed.  But two years old brings with it a whole new attitude.

Parenting feels a lot like a football field.

At least I imagine so. (don't hold me to it, I failed my football test in gym in 8th grade).  But surely, there are guys whose primary job is to protect the quarterback, right?  And the other team's goal, play by play, over and over, is to take the ball (his toy) and knock him to the ground.  In this game, Isaac is the quarterback.  Jude is the other team.  And I'm the defense - protecting Isaac, keeping him from getting knocked to the ground and his toys constantly stolen.

Only I don't knock Jude to the ground in the process.  Only via time-outs.

If it's not clear by now, I'm not a fan of this game much.

Grace came yesterday in the form of friends stating that they feel the exact. same. way. with their 2.5 year old and 8 month old.  Oh, so it's not just my toddler boy who thinks that tackling, kicking, hair-pulling, and head-butting is the best form of affection (or something).

In all honesty, I've never been one quick to anger until now.  I've been patient, responding in the way I've chosen most of the time.  But when one child is endangering the other?  It's made me snap my tongue more often than I care to admit.

I've never felt more inadequate as a parent than parenting a two-year-old.

And I don't blame him.  He's a boy and he's two.  He's still developing and learning boundaries and the whole bit.  But it is still my job to guide him and love him and teach him about love and grace.  The fact that this is normal and expected doesn't mean that this behavior should be overlooked.  And that job is exhausting.  I fail daily.

And when it comes down to it?  What better way to show him his need for a Savior than a mom who admits that she's so incredibly imperfect too?  If my imperfections mean that he sees his need for Jesus, I'll shout it from the rooftops.

Growing today feels a lot like my the dirty rags that my attempts at goodness are in comparison to God's glory.  Knowing God more means I become less.  It means I see more and more of my own sinfulness and how far I am from holy on my own.

It's tempting to dwell there.  It's tempting to dwell in inadequacy and insecurity and insignificance.  Instead, I know that I am made holy.  I am made clean and perfect.  And I am given God's word and his spirit to guide me.  To convict me and affirm me.  To speak of my value as a daughter of a King.  To bring forth grace when I am so clearly fallen.

Simply put, every day, I'm more stricken by my need for Jesus.  For forever life and for the day to day life.

May I stop trying to find confidence and identity in myself.  Me as a good mom.  Me with well-behaved kids.  Me with a perfect marriage.  Me with a clean house.  Me with early morning quiet times.  This identity will always fail.  My identity in grace, the daughter of the Most High King, will reign always.  So, once again, today I keep walking and seeking my creator for my daily bread.

isn't life still life?

The story is starting to come out of the woodwork.  The nauseating story of the abortionist "doctor" in West Philadelphia who performed hundreds of late-term abortions, resulting in the death of countless babies and at least two of their mothers.

It's completely sickening.  Gut-wrenching to read of what this heartless man did to ensure those breathing babies were "ensured fetal demise".  In talking about it to my husband, he said he had to turn off the radio when they started talking about it.  It's heard to wrap your mind around such evil.

Trust me, the stories are graphic.  Unless you are prepared to handle it, don't go reading about this story.

But I'm seeing it all over facebook.  How horrible this is.  How heartless.  And it's true.  When you hear of breathing babies whose lives are taken in a horrendous act, there is no other word for it.  Murder.

I can't keep quiet.  I still have this nagging feeling.

Why is this different than any of the other thousands of abortions that are performed every day?

Truly.  What is the difference of a few weeks?  6 weeks.  8 weeks.  10 weeks.  Why is this so horrendous to cause so much attention, when babies only a mere couple of weeks or months younger don't receive the same aghast reaction?

Please, let's think about it.

The least of these has been on my heart.  The Lord is near to them.  He identifies with the least.  And in all honesty, I can't imagine anyone more disadvantaged than a child who never has a chance to breathe.  Never given the opportunity.  I just can't be silent.

I don't know what to do.  I'm going to seek it out, all the while knowing that we serve a sovereign God with a Spirit that desires to guide and protect us.  Let's pray for heart change.  For the young girl who wasn't expecting to be a mother so soon.  Let's pray that she would choose to give the gift of a child to another family if she isn't fit.  Let's pray that the doctors who are performing these acts would begin to see the life that they are killing.  Let's pray that those who have a fire in their hearts for life would not fear being bold.

Our country seems to be all about rights.  As if we all have a right to something (which is a whole different issue altogether).  I'm sorry, but I can't understand the band wagon of a woman's right to an abortion.  Life is full of unexpecteds.  Sometimes horrible, life-altering unexpected things.  There is always a choice how to handle it.  In every other unexpected event, you can't go back and erase it as if it had never happened.  You must cope, work through it.  Somehow, we've come to the conclusion that life inside the womb is erasable.  It is simply not true.  Most people who have had an abortion will tell you that it wasn't something they were able to walk away from completely unscathed.  But that is the message we put out there.  That there don't have to be consequences.

Even under the darkest of circumstances, women have the ability to chose life for a child.  It may not be easy, but neither is life.  We live in a world of chaos, but God is the author of life and choosing life for a child over death can allow God's miracle in an otherwise dark time.

Please hear this friends.  I think it is out there that people who have opposing opinions must also hate the opposer.  I can promise that if you have a differing opinion from me, I still love you.  There is much that I hate.  I do hate abortion.  I hate evil.  I hate that there are 50 million lives unaccounted for at the hand of unknowing women and doctors.  I hate that this world has such a twisted view of sexuality.  But, I love you.  You who advocate for women's rights.  You who had an abortion.  You who just can't see from my perspective.  That's fine.  I still love you.  But I'm continuing to pray for hearts changed and lives saved.  There is hope and redemption.  I have not many, but a handful of friends who have such a history and their testimony is powerful as they have experienced God's grace.  I just love their bravery.

Now, let's get on our knees for all the lives lost.  Those that breathed a breath or two, and those that never did.

if he says stay :: 5 minute Friday

This week I've been working through faith and works.  Really trying to figure out, what are these "works" that are the fruit of our faith?  Starting to feel the beginnings of a heart broken for what grieves God.  And feeling helpless.

We've prayed, Lord, do what you will with us.  And we pray it again and again.  Giving it up and saying it is all fair game.  And we wait.

I've learned that God tends to move slowly, not hurried, like the world that I live in or my human tendencies.  But he guides us through the process, waiting on him.  Giving us time to grow in trust.  

But in the waiting I'm overwhelmed by what I see.  Orphans and human trafficking and abortion and injustice of all kinds.  With broken heart I'm wanting to do something.  Although I do do something.  I give my money and my prayers, but I start feeling like what if that's not good enough.

And I'm convicted.  Like the rich young ruler who wants to get into heaven by his works, I'm tempted with the same.  I'm tempted by the mentality that my works change my standing with Jesus.  I'm tempted by the mentality that how publicly I seek justice and do works changes my worth to Him.  This is simply not true.  

I remember Jesus' words... when the rich young ruler was overwhelmed at the task before him, and feeling defeated, walked away.  Jesus says, “With people it is impossible, but not with God; for all things are possible with God.”  Jesus knew that what he would tell the rich young ruler would be the last straw of an overwhelming load to bear.  A load far too heavy for a human back.  He knew that we would need Jesus to bring true and final justice.

So I lean into Jesus.  Choosing to believe that he sees just as much beauty in laying down my life for my kids on a daily basis as those in huts in Africa.  He sees beauty in the discipleship of small hearts.  In serving lunches and giving baths and wiping tears.  In reading stories that show of God's goodness throughout the ages.  Stories that tell that we are all in the same boat and far from what is required to live with God.  But the story of a God who loved us too much to let it stay that way.  

I learn in the story of the talents that God cares not about how many talents I am given, but the fact that I am faithful with what is before me.  

I am here.  Now.  Tempted to look to the future and take a peek into God's plan.  But that is only my sinful need to control and have knowledge that is not mine to have.  

But I am here.  A mom on her knees, seeking to please God with what is before me.  Two sweet boys that exhaust me and show me how self-centered I truly am on a minutely basis.  A wife to a husband who has the same dreams and the same open hands, offering up all that we have and are.  Knowing that if we are called to go, and do something wildly different than we imagined, we will go.  But also knowing that if this simple life in Grand Rapids, working, sharing life, raising babies, serving our neighbors, and taking every opportunity to glorify God in the mundane, we will also stay.  And we will glorify God all the same.

who is the least?

I have been so caught up in Matthew 25:31-46.  Needing to wrap my mind around what Jesus was saying here. And I was unable to understand in a way that fit in with the rest of what I knew to be true. Now finally... a bit of enlightenment.  I can breathe.

In this passage, Jesus identifies himself with the least.  Those that needed clothing and drink and food.  Jesus says that whoever gives clothing and food and drink to the least of these does so unto Him.  Okay, but what does this really mean?  What does he expect of me?  Does this mean that I have to spend every possible moment serving the poor?  Those "worse off" than me?  Because, let's face it, simply being a middle-class American puts me in the top 1% most wealthy in the world.  Regardless of how I feel, I am in a position to give a life-changing $5 to someone in need.

I started to feel weighed down, as if I weren't living well if I weren't pouring myself out for the disadvantaged.  And this thought exhausted me.  We have ministry that we are involved in both through our church and personally that keep us busy.  We also give money to a couple of different people or organizations that work with the third world countries, but our active involvement stops there.  There is no doubt in my mind that Jesus values this work, but I kept feeling like I was missing a HUGE piece here.

I was so focused on those who were seen as less than me.  Having less than me.  In doing so, I was making myself greater.  I'm putting myself on this pedestal as if I am something great.  When in reality, I don't feel that I have anything to offer.  I feel so inadequate to be an example to anyone, because I know that Jesus is the only true reason I have value.

So here I am, elevating myself and seeing how I can be "good" and serve the least.  Because it is commanded, right?

And again I read, he who is first shall be last, and the last shall be first.  And it hits me.  I am the least.

I am reading Jen Hatmaker's bible study, Interrupted.  And I must admit, I've been reading much of it through a critical eye.  Her writing style is difficult for me to follow (at least in this bible study format) and there are times I haven't agreed with what she has said, but this is mainly because I know it is about her journey and my place in my journey is simply different.  All that to say, it has sparked questions in me that I haven't addressed for quite some time.  It's challenged me to really understand what God is saying here and not assume that it is what I've been taught my whole life.  It's made me want to fully understand this text, even if it is just so I can figure out if I agree with Jen's opinion or not.  (I'm planning to do a review of her study when I'm finished.)

But through examining Matthew 25 and reading this Bible study and spending the past two weeks in mental turmoil and prayer over this passage, I fianlly realize that Jesus is identifying with me.  Compared to Him, I am the lowest of lows.  The chief of sinners, to quote Paul.  And suddenly I feel valued, knowing that when he cares deeply about the least, he is talking about me.  And his identification with me is what allows me to spend all eternity with Him.

I think as I was working through this I started to get this perspective that God cared more about the physically impoverished and poor than he did me.  This was completely wrong, which I know, which is why I felt such unrest about it.  But I feel like I now see that we are all the least.  And our command is to love the Lord first, and to love each other well second.  Because we are all valuable in God's eyes.  We all bear his image.  Nothing changes that.  Not race or nationality or wealth or education.

So when I am commanded to serve the least, yes, justice on this earth is important.  It is part of loving and being imitators of Christ.  I do think there is a level of responsibility to make right the things that grieve God.  It comes out of the overflow of my understanding that I, too, fall short but have received grace.  Just as important is the fact that I love and serve my neighbor well, regardless of their financial or social standing.  Because we all bear the image of God.  

Love the Lord your God with all of your heart, soul, and mind.  And love your neighbor as you love yourself.

Let's love well, friends.