Gems from Jeremiah: Heart for the Lost

Jeremiah...a Rembrandt

Jeremiah the Prophet ministered under Judah's last five kings, approximately 627-586 B.C. Unsuccessful in bringing his people to repentance, he was heartbroken for them, even while angered at their defiance of God.

Notice the ache in these, his words:

Jeremiah 8:18-22

You who are my Comforter in sorrow,
my heart is faint within me.
Listen to the cry of my people
from a land far away:
“Is the Lord not in Zion?
Is her King no longer there?”

“Why have they aroused my anger with their images,
with their worthless foreign idols?”

“The harvest is past,
the summer has ended,
and we are not saved.”

Since my people are crushed, I am crushed;
I mourn, and horror grips me.
Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no physician there?
Why then is there no healing
for the wound of my people?

Jeremiah...a Michelangelo

I read these words and knew what God wanted from me, his servant. The Holy Spirit whispered it:

Your heart needs to break for the unsaved, as Jeremiah's did, as Jesus' does. Care not for the things that pass away--for they will be buried with you in death and mean nothing. Care not for your fears, for God gives you everything you need. Care not for the future, for God has planned it already.for his glory. 

But care for these, the unsaved. They are in your neighborhood. He has them come knocking on your door. Open it, and let your heart break for their plight. Speak life into their unsaved hearts. Speak truth. Show them the love of your gracious Father. Imagine them bowing down and declaring Jesus as Lord. That is worth your time...proclaiming Christ to the unsaved. No, I don't expect you to get results, for that is up to me. But let your heart break for them, and be not distracted by this or that nothingness. Abide in me and experience my love for you, and let it overflow.

Yes, all this the Holy Spirit said to me throughout the reading of Jeremiah. And Miss L., my twelve-year-old neighbor girl, now in middle school, doesn't come around so much anymore because she has discovered friends from the bus on other streets, and they talk about boys and make-up and clothes. I don't talk about those things, so I'm not popular with her anymore, and my little girls are too little, she's decided. Oh, the many opportunities I had over the last three years to speak life into her soul! And I didn't have her over enough. I cared about this or that nothingness and said no, you can't come in today.

Now, it's only once a week she visits, mostly when her new friends aren't home, one of whom doesn't like Christians. These girls go by on their bikes and I see her distancing herself from us while around her friends, even as her brother plays here daily.

And she is not saved I don't think. Yesterday she came and stayed an hour, and I could see she was very depressed. Her ADHD medicine, she said, is doing it to her, and her grandmother's passing. (And hormones, no doubt, and stress with her mom.) My heart ached for her, but how late did that aching come? How obvious her placement in my life, and yet I made idols of other things, whether it was housecleaning or having peace and quiet.

Will I get another chance to speak up for Christ and tell of his glorious desire to bless her, keep her, and give her a hope and a future? 

Tears roll as I type it. I messed up, just as the people of Judah did, and how much I grieve now. Jeremiah wasn't successful with Judah, but I hear his words, I see his heart for the unsaved. I will heed his words.

Her 8-year-old brother, he comes every day and loves it here and he came to AWANA. We have a chance with him. I will remember Jeremiah and I will let all the fluff of life go, like housecleaning and trying to be the perfect homeschool mother. 

The perfect mother is she whose heart breaks for the unsaved--for her children first, and then for her neighbors. There is nothing more worth my time--nothing that should compete with the Eternal things.

Oh, Lord, I pray every child's knee here will bow, claiming you as Lord! From my own children down to every child around here who dares come to my door. And dare them, Lord. Dare them to come--the broken, the hyperactive, the angry, the desperate. I will not say it's too hard. I will not turn them away. I will not fear.

Jeremiah 9:23-24

This is what the Lord says:

Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom

or the strong man boast of his strength

or the rich man boast of his riches,

but let him who boasts boast about this:

that he understands and knows me,

that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness,

justice and righteousness on earth,

for in these I delight." 

Do you know Him, my friends? Do you understand Him? Do you know what breaks His heart? Lay aside all the other things about which you're concerned, and abide in Him. Know him. Understand Him. Live in accordance with His will--Him who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth. 

For in these he delights.

Apples, Pumpkins and Bees, Oh my

Fall leafs me happy! 

Parenting Out of Hope, Not Fear

Are you sometimes astounded by how hard parenting is? Frequently I feel that way, but at the same time, I love being a mom. Even on my worst days as a mom, I never feel like quitting or changing jobs, perhaps because there's much grace showered on the Christian mother.

Sometimes we forget, so preoccupied are we by the hard work.

The Holy Spirit is always there.

So many times He grabs me and says, gently: "Do it this way instead." No, it's not audible like God communicated with Abraham, Moses, Samuel or Jonah, but I know who it's from, just the same

Recently, during an online conversation with another Christian mom, I read her words: "Most of our fears are just that--fear. They never materialize." This spoken from a mom suffering from PTSD due to her own mother's drinking and the effects it had on her life and safety.

She wrestled with fear for years and won those words, and by absentmindedly typing them to me, she shared one of her graces and it became one of mine. I honestly wasn't aware of how much fear I harbored regarding my children's futures--until God's grace showed me that I'm not called to parent out of fear, but out of hope.

Hope. What a beautiful, God-inspired word.

Now when a slight worry or fear enters my mind about a child's future or about the condition of a child's heart, the new idea enters my head and the fear/fret cycle freezes, like a still picture of my former self.

It's just a whisper of a reminder now: "Most of our fears are just that...fear. They never materialize." 

"You're fearing, not hoping. Turn around again."

Grace, showered on me and my children in the form of a sentence...an idea. The Holy Spirit himself made it more than a sentence--he made it a lifestyle. A lifestyle of hope.

Hope is the absence of fear--serving as a filter through which the Christian can live each day obedient, strong, courageous, other-serving.

I am transformed; I am transforming, and there are many issues yet to have their turn, in which the Holy Spirit will have His way with me, leaving me wiser, lighter, fuller in joy.

And it's wonderful to remember that this same grace is available for my children. The same Holy Spirit lives in them, I am fairly certain, and he will lead them as he leads me, to quiet waters, to paths of righteousness, for his name sake.

Amen.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures: he leads me beside the quiet waters.

He restores my soul; he leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Simple Woman's Daybook 10/7

Outside my window...

A vibrant array of color, the leaves delight me as always in this, my favorite season.

Not too fast, I want to shout to the heavens...not too fast.

Some leaves pile on the ground already, thrown asunder by the wind, reminding me that time passes quickly and there's nothing I can do about it. We must hug our little ones and big ones alike, for in no time our children will be off to their first apartment, thrown asunder by a swiftly moving clock life, leaving us to wonder why we ever minded the noise or the mud or all that laundry.

Oh, but to have them all back again, we'll say, tears running down our cheeks.

Snuggle up and savor. Fill them up with all your heart has to offer, and with all the Lord has to offer, through you.

I am thinking...

Why does it have to be so hard? That has crossed my mind numerous times these last couple weeks. We're going to these psychology appointments, but change, progress, is slow. Fear is a force; it must be understood and reckoned with, and we are learning that this is both simple and not so simple, especially when fear behaves like a tsunami, taking reason with it.

I guess I expected that once we were pursuing the solution, all would be well, but it may be many months of abiding in Christ. Why was I thinking I had the golden egg of solutions?

Because when is a psychologist really a solution? A solution to what? Life is as messy as it is beautiful and the Lord is my shepherd and my psychologist...I shall not want and everything I need is right there in the down payment on my inheritance...the Holy Spirit...talking to me through my prayers and through my Bible reading and through my hardest moments.

This guy behind the desk in the medical building? He can only do what the Lord wills. He's one of God's graces for us in the grand scheme of anxiety disorders, but he's not the answer to having enough endurance...to finishing the race before me. God has already equipped me with everything I need. My work, my job, is to be thankful, obedient, and available as a servant.

I am thankful for...

~ a reading program for dyslexics available to homeschoolers (reading is a grueling process for the dyslexic and one I was not privy to understand before). I don't know what I would have done without the All About Reading curriculum. I decided to use it for both Mary and Beth, though at two different levels. I wanted to prevent any problems with Beth as she becomes a reader, since dyslexia is highly heritable.

~ cooler days--especially mornings and nights, hot cocoa, baking smells in the kitchen again, pumpkin foods, apple foods, lots of homemade soups

~ a marriage that perseveres. The anxiety disorders in the children are taking their toll on our marriage, as is common when children have stressful conditions, but this marriage is solidly based on commitment, not on happiness, so grueling times like this do not shake its foundation. Praise God for that. A marriage that has seen hard times can be a testimony, and right now I am holding on tight for the glory of God. Marriage and raising children is not so much about us, but about the glory of God. Singleness can be the same, though through different avenues of bringing glory.

~ a reorganized, centralized homeschooling area for quick access to the books and assignment sheets we need throughout the day

~ a reorganized laundry-folding and storing system that leaves Mommy only folding the parental laundry. These changes have proven very helpful. The children each have their own standard-sized laundry basket containing their clean pajamas, sweats, and socks/underwear to fold and put away, plus a few towels and washcloths each. I hang everything else straight from the dryer.

~ a four-year-old Down Syndrome boy joined my church Sunday school class this last week and I really wanted to take him home with me...Peter did too. I love special needs children.

~ Sunday school children to love, though I do miss holding the babies in the nursery. I am only with the 4-year-olds now.

~ Our new church is the best church I've ever attended. We've been there about 7 weeks now I'm guessing. It isn't the AWANA church I wrote about, but a different church I found online about twenty minutes from us. I can't put my finger on what is different, but I want to say...they're just very humble, average guys (2 pastors and a youth minister) trying to minister to us, but very talented at it too. They don't view ministry through a staff vs. church member lens. Everyone is equal--there are no cliques. We're all messed-up sinners in need of grace and love and wisdom, pursuing it together, and trying to be it together, for the glory of God. That's what it feels like there and I love it and it's unanimous...the whole family loves it!

For a long time I've wanted to find such a church home, but I came to the conclusion you bloom where you're planted and make the best of it, finding all the good you could. This feels like such a joy finally...my spirit is happy there. There are tons of babies and toddlers and families--it's teaming with life the second you walk in the doors. A young church with a sprinkling of us old folks, who are all happy to look around and laugh at the joy of it all.

I am wearing...

flannel pajamas and slippers because it's late night. I had to wait until all my school prep was done before I could write tonight (as well as the dishes done and the socks and underwear put in the dryer).

I am reading...

My Bible, Little Pear from the girls' Core B curriculum (an amazingly cute and quaint classic I missed as a child and adult), Overcoming Dyslexia, Talking Back to OCD

Scripture to share... Hebrews 12:1

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us

The Unsuspecting Psychologist

How many times have I typed it here over the years?  That what matters most to the Lord is drawing people to Himself--saving souls and more souls?

2 Peter 3:8-9 But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.

My anxiety-ridden children--whose anxieties are exhausting and fill me with anxiety, and vice versa--see a psychologist every Monday. We all like him, and in fact Mary had her first full session this last Monday and said afterwards, "Mommy, I really love that man." Before she left, she told him, "I'll miss you." 

He'd given her a science lesson about thunder and lightning and showed her many pictures of beautiful displays of God's glory in the skies, also explaining that lightning hits the highest objects around, if anything at all--rarely your house.

He grew up in tornado alley, he told her, and never saw a single tornado. In fact, when his home area in Ohio has a tornado warning, his family goes into the basement and he sits in the garage with the garage door open and tries to find a tornado in the sky--he so wants to see one--but still, he never has!

He asked her what her worst fear was. "A tornado running down the house and killing everybody", she answered.

"If this happened, which is very, very unlikely, where would you go?", he inquired.

"I would go to Heaven and be with Jesus forever." she answered.

"Yes. And your dolls and toys would be strewn all over the street, and children would come and be very happy to play with them, so is a tornado really all that bad?" he countered.

He's an orthodox Jewish psychologist (who also has OCD and suffered with it as a child) who loves God and intersperses things about God into his counseling sessions.

But he doesn't know Jesus. He upholds what my children say about Jesus--and they all have something to say about Him--but he doesn't personally know Jesus the Messiah.

It isn't only one of my children going to this man who loves God but not the Messiah. It's three of them. How rare is that? Three siblings needing therapy for anxiety? So this man has two hours of exposure to Christian children speaking from their heart about Jesus as the Spirit leads, every Monday.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

There was a purpose to the worst summer of my life? A purpose to me feeling like we were a failure as a family because who has this many children suffering from anxiety? I didn't tell you about all the embarrassment, shame, self-doubt, panic and failing faith that characterized my summer--or did I, sort of?

I'm sure I have a lot to learn--that we as a family have a lot to learn. Like how to abide.

But there is another purpose too, I strongly feel, having to do with an unsuspecting psychologist who doesn't know yet that God loves him so much, he's going to plant the truth of the gospel into the case file of the 7-year-old who's afraid of thunder, lightning, tornadoes and loud booms that just might be bombs. With a little help from her brothers.

When she said, "I really love that man," it could just as easily have been the Lord talking.

Jesus loves us! He really does, and when things are hard and down right messy, and we're ashamed and scared and we don't understand how it could get this bad, we can't lose hope. We don't know the outcome, but we do know the purpose. We do know what the Lord cares about.

We just have to care about souls too, and we'll be okay. We have to remember what he has planned for those who love Him.

Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

1 Corinthians 2:9

However, as it is written:

“What no eye has seen,
    what no ear has heard,
and what no human mind has conceived”—
    the things God has prepared for those who love him—

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