Jesus Came to Dinner

The invitations, handmade. The event? Saturday night pizza and watermelon at our house, followed by a tea party. With a honey pot, of course. Okay...that part I made up...just an excuse to put our good friend Pooh up there.

The guest of honor? Our new neighborhood friend, that Lexi girl--also known as Pipi Longstocking. (Because she makes up her own rules, just like Pipi.)

What better way to tell someone about the reason for your hope than to invite them for a meal? Jesus dwells here and we love Him. Won't you meet him here, too? Won't you, too, experience His hope?

But alas, the guest didn't show. When she told me on Friday that her mom said yes, I sensed lying eyes, but we prepared everything anyway. She appeared to be gone the whole day, so there must have been prior plans.

But anyway..the handmade invitation melted her heart. She felt loved. "You guys are the best," she said upon reading it.

Guess who did show up? Jesus! He never misses a chance to dine with us.

You've heard this? The family that prays together stays together.

I say: The family that prays and dines together, stays together.  

Whatever you plan as the manager of your home, and possibly of your schedule, don't forget these two things: family prayer time; family dining time  Each is a like a gift to unwrap. Gifts that keep on giving.

We had a blast, each doing a silly toast with our play tea cups.

~ Peter toasted the birds.

~ Paul toasted football on the first round, and basketball on the second round.

~ Beth toasted chocolate chips on the first round--clearly a child after my own semi-sweet heart--and going to the park on the second.

~ Mary toasted the bunnies.

There are many ways to make dining more meaningful. We like to ask a question and go around the table, giving each person a chance to reflect and answer. "What are you most thankful for today?" "What was your favorite part of the day?" "Tell me one thing you learned today."

You'll laugh together...you'll marvel at your kids...you'll look adoringly into your husband's eyes, so glad you married him and created a family together.

This time spent leisurely together, rather than rushing from here to there in the evenings? It cements you as a family unit. Your children will remember the lessons taught at the table...the discipling that went on there. You'll build their trust as you take time to really listen to them.

A lot of things will compete for this time, the enemy will assure that. Some of them, like sports and other extracurricular activities, will seem so beneficial and fun. Everyone's doing them and you don't want to be the odd family out.

But what is your family's mission? What does HE want from you? Maybe right now it is sports.

But have you asked Him?

If you've never sat down and crafted a family mission statement, look first to the greatest two commandments, and then at your spiritual gifts. They will point to a mission for you.

Matthew 22:36-40
 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Pooh found here

On Why I Must Write

Playing in the ophthalmologist's waiting room.
Instead of germ infested toys, this waiting room features a bright red carpeted thingy my children love.  It's amazing how it sparks their imaginations. This week it was a castle with a mote.

Writing several times a week is a significant time commitment. Sometimes it means less sleep. Sometimes it means the dinner dishes get soaked only, and loaded in the dishwasher in the morning. Or sometimes it means I go to bed at 9:30 PM and get up at 4:30 AM, to read, reflect, write.

Many a day, it's clearly wiser to tell myself no. Don't write today. But so often I can't not write. My heart and soul need to reflect on this journey, to record the beauty and ashes of life. To record His redemption. His faithfulness. When a reflection comes, it begs to be processed sooner, rather than later.

In the reflecting and writing God clarifies for me what my heart must look like, to be a heart after His. As such, writing is a form of worship for me.

People who love writing will tell you that to completely process this life, they have to pen it. As the words flow, as the sentences take shape, clarity of mind comes too. And peace comes with clarity. A lot can be going wrong in my life, but if I understand it all from His perspective, I can cope with it, give thanks for it, experience peace through it.

Some people need to talk to process. They talk on and on until they've arrived at clarity. Some need a quiet place to process, alone. They can't stand noise or crowds too often.

Tonight it's mothering and children I reflect on. I must soak up these children with all my heart. Everything about them. The way they smelled after the bath, the way they giggled at each other's antics, the way they marveled at the baby sparrows peaking out of an attic-vent nest on the side of the house. The sparrows have nested there for two years now. We all count ourselves blessed to have a property graced with sparrow and robin nests.

And this year, bunnies are plentiful too. We saw a baby one just yesterday. Not edging your yard and flowerbeds and fences means you create a haven for wildlife. Last year we found a turtle in our yard, hiding in the tall grass at the fence line.

The children delight in every sighting. This morning they ran from one window to the next, following a bunny's wanderings.

I want to remember the sound of their squeals. Their wonder and excitement at what God created for their good pleasure. The world is a wonder. I want them to reflect on who made it that way, and give Him thanks with their whole hearts.

Nature is an intentional gift from God. Beauty is an ever-present grace. Our hearts can break over something, but when we look out the window, there's that cardinal standing in the snow, or that goldfinch gracing a branch near the window.

Look for His graces. This is what I want my children to know. That robin struggling with a worm right before your eyes? That cardinal sitting on a snowlined tree branch? That goldfinch or oriole sighting? That baby bunny scurrying by the window?


Not an accident. It's Him, saying I am here with you. I know your sorrow, your troubles. I have a plan and I'll never leave you or forsake you.

These children? I can't get enough of them during the day. I can't soak up enough of their cuteness, their wonder, their love, because caring for them keeps me so busy. Sitting here at the computer, alone with my thoughts made into words made into sentences, I can soak up the blessing entirely, reflect on it, marvel at it, and give thanks for it. And the next time they pass by me, I'll scoop them up and love on them, remembering that I don't want one day to pass without them knowing they color my days happy. That I love them fiercely.

That no matter how many times they wet the bed and wake me up, spill their milk or walk outside in their socks, or leave bits of Playdoh all over the floor, I am not really undone, though I may look it. I am really blessed. Blessed so much I can't record the feelings fast enough. 


For the moments turn into days, turn into weeks, turn into months, turn into years, faster than my heart can process.


Words on a page? Can they slow time down? Can the recording of a day make it live on?

I want to think so. And so I write.

After bath books together

Jesus in the Neighborhood

(Note: I accidentally linked this to Emily's blog twice. Sorry!)

"Dear Lord, we pray for nice neighborhood kids to play with. Please help someone move in soon."

Many a time over the last seven years, that prayer we uttered.

She has brown, shoulder-length straight hair that bounces, a sweet little heart-shaped face. Ten years old, she said. "We are living with my grandparents right now, because my mom's boyfriend went to jail."

She sees pretzel rods in a plastic container on top of the fridge. "Can I have a pretzel?"

I get the plastic container down and open it. She grabs three large rods.

They ride bikes, this Lexi girl and my own ten-year-old. A little later, she wants more pretzel rods and can she see the hamster Peter told her about?

"Can I have some water?"

The Holy Spirit, he says offer hospitality without grumbling.

I think it's Him talking?

I give her a water bottle. "Is it just me Lord, or is this girl demanding?"

The hamster, he looks traumatized and I think of the wood floor and how it could kill him.

"Put the hamster back now, will you Peter?"

They go outside again, the two ten-year-olds, my five- and three-year-old, and my eight-year-old.

The water bottle, it spills on the concrete. "Go ask your mom for another water bottle."

Peter comes to the door, embarrassed to ask me.

I roll my eyes, in spite of the hospitality warning. "Tell her no more today."

My aunt, mother of six, told me not long ago it's better when siblings just play with each other. They get along better that way. Her kids are middle-age now, but she remembers well the trouble with neighborhood kids.

"Do you want to see my pond?", Peters asks her the next day. The group of five goes to our backyard, where the container pond is. Lexi gathers the tadpoles up with the net, repeatedly.

Peter comes to the door. "Mom, she keeps scooping up the tadpoles. I told her they might die, but she won't listen."

I roll my eyes. Don't I have enough trouble, Lord? Opening a back window, I shout. "You kids go back to the front now."

She doesn't come for two days. Peter doesn't know if he likes her or not.

"She's so pushy."

When she comes around on Saturday, he's happy. Even though she keeps asking for food, which embarrasses him.

"Do you want to see a robin nest?", he ask her. But seeing it from the ground? That isn't enough for this Lexi. She starts to climb the pear tree.

Peter comes to the door, stressed.

"Mom, she's climbing the tree to see the nest."

"But she'll knock it down," I say.

Peter nods. "I told her that, but she said: 'I'm going to see that nest and no one is going to stop me.' "

It's like this every visit, and at dinner each night we discuss Lexi. "I know she isn't the playmate we were hoping for. But she's the one God brought. And for a reason. We are to pray for her."

Sheepishly, Peter admits, "She cusses. Dang it, crap, and shoot. She says them all the time."

One day I tell her, "We have to go to the pharmacy now, Lexi. We'll see you tomorrow."

She wanted Peter to go to the drainage ditch with her to catch tadpoles. I told Peter to wait until Daddy got home.

In the van on the way to the pharmacy, Peter tells me "Mom, she kept telling me to ask you again and again about the ditch. She's so pushy I don't know what to do."

"I told her we had to get my medicine because I have ADHD and OCD. And Mom, she said she has a discipline problem."

At this confession, I'm not surprised. I sensed Oppositional Defiant Disorder in her, a condition one of my former students had.

Husband, the only evangelist among us, says at dinner. "Let's invite her to church."

To me, a former public school teacher, this seems outrageous. "But we don't even know her mom! What if she's crazy and accuses us of something?"

He thinks about this, and then we realize there's no room in our van for her anyway.

"Let's tell her about Jesus, the reason for our hope," I offer.

"I could never do that", Peter says.

"I can't either", Paul adds. "I'm not brave."

That night, lying in bed, Lexi takes over my thoughts. God amazes me. How he strategically places people to grow us. What if Jesus came as a difficult child? I must see Jesus in her. I must love her as He does.

And my kids, they must learn to stand for their faith. Not be ashamed of the Gospel. This is easy for my husband, hard for me, and even harder for them.

Her family lets her run all around the neighborhood, barging in this door and that door, surprising the once-quiet, rather boring neighborhood. I never hear anyone calling for her.

How would I feel, as her mother? I know the way a child can bring you to your knees. And this mother, she has other problems too, if she was living with a boyfriend--one who went to jail, even.

Suddenly I know what to do. Invite all three of them to church--the mother, the five-year-old brother, and Lexi.

I think of our prayer, all these years, for a neighborhood child to play with.

He thinks we need Lexi? We need this girl? The one who climbs our pear tree, claiming she'll see that nest and no one will stop her?

I smile to myself, knowing God gives us what we need, not what we want. Yes, she's the one.

Linking with Emily at imperfect prose

Linking with Jennifer at Getting Down With Jesus today, too.

Wednesday Devotions, Psalm 37

On Strike, 1891
Sir Hubert von Herkomer

Today's Text: Psalm 37, selected verses

1 Do not fret because of those who are evil
or be envious of those who do wrong;
2 for like the grass they will soon wither,
like green plants they will soon die away.

I got troubles, yes I do. I got troubles, how 'bout you? 

Yeah, we all have troubles. At times it may seem like yours are the worst on the block, but this is rarely true.

Two of my children have very serious problems and two more have minor problems. 

In the aftermath of a 2009 job loss, I've been sued by a creditor and there's a judgement against me. I can no longer have a bank account; if so, it will be attached. My husband will soon be sued by his creditor. Within months--because we don't choose to file bankruptcy at this juncture--his wages will be attached. Our house payment just went up $30 because of higher taxes and a higher insurance rate. 

We have little family or friend support; we live a very unusual life that people don't quite understand. We're the only family in our church that homeschools, for one thing. And when you're impoverished, people stay away from you. They wonder if it will rub off on them, perhaps? People are afraid of what they don't understand.

The toilets are still not fixed, the lawn mower just broke, two drawers in the kitchen are broken, the car and van are extremely old and things go wrong with them fairly frequently, and the list goes on.

Yeah, I got troubles. But not because God doesn't love me. Not because he's forgotten me. He has a plan to prosper me spiritually. 

Keys to Surviving Troubles: 

1. Focus on the spiritual. If you don't have spiritual troubles, you're doing well. 

2. When your mind wants to grumble, give thanks instead. It starts as a mental exercise but quickly becomes a heart exercise. It changes you on the inside, for good.

3. Don't feel unloved because of troubles. God doesn't hate you. If you're a believer you're set for eternity. This life is like a vapor; hold it loosely. That includes your troubles--loosen your mental grip on them.

3 Trust in the Lord and do good;
dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.
4 Take delight in the Lord,
and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Even when things go from bad to worse, trust God. He'll use it for your good. A worsening of trouble is rarely a sign that God isn't listening. Troubles, in fact, help you loosen your grip on this world. And that's always a good thing. 

Dwell with him (stay very close), do good for others, and enjoy your spiritual safety. Delight in the Lord through song, Scripture, prayer. He will put his desires in your heart, and then grant them.

5 Commit your way to the Lord;
trust in him and he will do this:
6 He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn,
your vindication like the noonday sun.

Give every aspect of your life over to the Lord--parenting, money, friends, marriage, jobs, family, possessions--give it all to him. Dwell not on your understanding, for it's terribly short-sighted and flawed. Make a list of what the world loves. Make sure you don't love any of it.  Live not as the world lives, and he will make you shine.

7 Be still before the Lord
and wait patiently for him;
do not fret when people succeed in their ways,
when they carry out their wicked schemes.

Fretting is a sin...the opposite of being still. Don't dwell on all the people who have it "better" than you. Make a blessing list instead, so you can be still. 

Remember these key verbs from the verses above: trust, dwell, delight, commit, wait

8 Refrain from anger and turn from wrath;
do not fret —it leads only to evil.
9 For those who are evil will be destroyed,
but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land.

Right now, I probably have reason to be angry and fretful.

Beth's arthritis-related eye inflammation did come back, though not as serious this time. She has to start on steroid drops again. The inflammation can come and go for years and years, especially when it starts this young. The doctor feels he can save her vision ( he's a famous ophthalmologist and all, but he's not God. Nevertheless, I choose to believe him.) He said the worst that might happen is that she'll get cataracts from repeated use of steroid drops. And cataracts are treatable.

She also has wandering eyes (strabismus) and will need glasses for astigmatism. (Unrelated to her arthritis) Glasses might take care of the strabismus, and if not, he'll try a patch. If necessary later, he will do surgery--something he's world-famous for.

Peter's OCD improved when we increased his Strattera dose to 18 mg. However, it's obvious now that the increase from 10 mg to 18 mg (both doses are lower than recommended for his weight) have caused mood swings. So, we need to go back to 10 mg. Hello OCD again. The OCD really bothered his spirit, but he wants to be free from this anger. We're stuck between a rock and a hard place. The anger is obviously unhealthy for the whole family.

My husband gets more and more angry with each new problem. His spirit is tormented. But he knows this life is a vapor. He'll return to relative peace once again. It's hard to see him so angry, but I can only pray in response, and listen quietly while he vents. Everybody processes life differently.

Whatever happens, don't hold on to anger. It may show up as a grief symptom, but process it quickly. Pray to be free of it.

Our hope is in eternity...in the Lord. Not here. Things will improve here, perhaps, but they'll just get tough again. Don't wait for things to "calm down". Live fully right now. Live like you've just inherited the land.

The rest of these verses are not in order, for brevity sake, and I've left many out.

18 The blameless spend their days under the Lord’s care,
and their inheritance will endure forever.
19 In times of disaster they will not wither;
in days of famine they will enjoy plenty.

No matter how bad things get, you are indeed under the Lord's care. Through him, you will not wither. You will enjoy plenty.

23 The Lord makes firm the steps
of the one who delights in him;
24 though he may stumble, he will not fall,
for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

He is upholding you. You've not fallen, and you won't fall.

25 I was young and now I am old,
yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken
or their children begging bread.
26 They are always generous and lend freely;
their children will be a blessing.[b]

He will provide. But maybe not in the usual ways...and that has to be okay with you. Trust him for your daily bread and be generous. Even the poor can be generous, if they know from Whom all things come.

34 Hope in the Lord
and keep his way.
He will exalt you to inherit the land;
when the wicked are destroyed, you will see it.

39 The salvation of the righteous comes from the Lord;
he is their stronghold in time of trouble.
40 The Lord helps them and delivers them;
he delivers them from the wicked and saves them,
because they take refuge in him.

Prayer Time: 

Dear Heavenly Father, I thank you for this Psalm. I thank you for upholding, delivering, saving. I thank you for the inheritance of the land. For the safe pasture. For the refuge. For the plenty.

Some readers are having horrible troubles as well. Help us all to trust, dwell, delight, commit, wait, and hope. Help us to refrain from anger and fretting. May we live in joyful hope, abiding in you. Help us to do good and be generous.

In your name I pray, Amen.

A Curious Thing About Prayer and Humility

 

I live with five other people, intimately. Much can be learned about human flaws through home observation. Each separate family is uniquely capable of shaping its members through divine appointment. 




What God has brought together, let man not separate. If we want to reach our highest potential in Christ, we'd do well to spend time with our families. It's therapy for free.


As we've prayed together more and more, I've noticed something important. To be humble is not natural. No one wants to acknowledge personal sin before God and man. We can pray very important things easily, but when it comes to a uniquely personal sin we're struggling with, we remain mum. Or we only mention it in private, before God. 


I'm discovering there's a reason the Bible says to confess our sins to each other. I never thought about it much before now, but this is huge. 


James 5:16
Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.



At any given time each person has a long-standing sin the Holy Spirit is working to eradicate--be it anger, ingratitude, idleness, harshness, etc. In our haughtiness, when we ignore the Holy Spirit, the sin persists for a long time. It's the thing we struggle with the most. It's the thing we're least likely to admit to anyone. But as sins go, it isn't necessarily something jaw-dropping, like adultery. 


It's our own Achilles Heal, if you will. It doesn't fit with the image we want to present. At times we fail to see ourselves as we really are, because we're so caught up in our image of ourselves. We know this Achilles Heal makes us an impostor. 


And who wants to be seen as an impostor?


We deceive ourselves into thinking we can take care of it. We try different things with wavering motivation, but always, we fail to eradicate it.


The Humility of God


Noticing this aspect of human nature, I had a discussion with my children about the humility of God. He came to us a helpless baby, though he was God. He let them nail him to a tree, though he was God. He died a slow, agonizing death, though he was God.


His example for us screams this word: Humility


After speaking with them about Jesus humbling himself, I explained how hard it is for us to humble ourselves and admit sin. Heads nodded in response. They get this. 


But if we love God, if we want to be his disciple, we must do this. We must choose humility as Jesus did...go low before our loved ones. Reveal who we really are, so God can make us new.


Peter's been struggling mightily and mumbling prayers begrudgingly lately. He really listened to my words. And then...he said it. Quickly, before he lost his nerve. 


Dear God, Help me with my anger.


Behold, He makes all things new. Hallelujah!