March | 2012 |

A Full Heart

30. March 2012 · 2 comments · Categories: Homeschooling

Getting little sleep, I miss my alarm. I jump up and race through my morning routine because I know that mornings before the kids get up are my best chance to get things done. Both of my boys also seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I find that my computer is slow to wake up as well. And the chores seem to have doubled overnight. I send my oldest to his room to change for the day, only to come in five minutes later and find him daydreaming, still in pj’s. We finally sit down to start school and I get little cooperation. There’s complaining about too much writing, “I don’t want to’s,” and “how long do we have to do this?” Not only that, my coffee’s gone cold.

To read the rest of this post, visit Hip Homeschool Moms where I am guest posting today.

The Cost of Sacrifice

27. March 2012 · 31 comments · Categories: Spiritual Growth

During this season of Lent, of pausing to dwell and really meditate on Christ and his sacrifice, I’ve realized how much I try to avoid the challenges and trials of life. So often, I try to veer from the dark rocky paths on my journey to holiness. I resist pain and sorrow, seeking comfort and pleasure instead. While Christ walked straight into the fire to rescue me, in the face of fire, I run screaming the other way.

Jesus’ path to the cross began long before the Gospel accounts. It was a plan written into the pages of time by the Father and the Son, written even before the very first sunrise. It was promised first to our parents in Genesis and affirmed throughout the Old Testament. Christ’s blood is the thread that weaves the pages of the Old and New Testament together to form the story of our redemption.

When I think about how Jesus knowingly and willingly walked up the road to the cross, I am humbled. He could have spoken one word and everything would have stopped. Just as he called the storm with one command, he could have stopped the soldiers with merely a whisper. The book of Hebrews tells us that, “for the joy set before him he endured the cross. ” Jesus knew that there was a greater joy beyond the pain. He anticipated the gratification of our complete fellowship with God and was willing to sacrifice himself to make that possible.

God’s plan to make us holy was a costly sacrifice for him.

Scripture tells us that to follow after him, there is also a cost for us as well. When Jesus calls us to follow, he calls us to a life of trial and sacrifice. We have to take up our own crosses. The road to holiness is a uncomforable one; the refining, cleansing process is painful. As Larry Crabb describes it, “holiness comes before happiness.”

The Israelites lived out this lesson in the book of Numbers. They were taught that life is very difficult; the road to holiness is full of trial and adversity. Their life was certainly not easy. They lived in a tent community, moving from place to place. They were completely dependent on God for their food, safety, shelter, and direction. They found that the road to the promise land was costly and full of obstacles. They resisted this, wanting a smooth path instead. They wanted a path they could walk on unassisted, where they wouldn’t need to rely on God for anything. When they grew tired of the food, they complained against God. “All the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and the whole assembly said to them, “If only we had died in Egypt! Or in this desert!” (Numbers 14:2)

Like the Israelites, I often expect life to be easy and when it isn’t, I grumble and complain. It’s as though I want to accept the gospel and the suffering Jesus endured for me, but not have to sacrifice anything myself. Yet to be a true disciple of Christ, I have to walk that same road of sacrifice that my Savior walked. And like my Savior, I have to walk with joy, knowing the end result.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

I want to be mature. I don’t want to get to the end of the race and realize I am lacking. But what if the path to true joy in God is the narrow and most likely dangerous one? What am I missing when I avoid that which makes me uncomfortable, that which is painful, that which is frightening? And what would happen if I did face those dark waters of fear and doubt and risk the drowning?

What if in the drowning, I actually become truly alive?

It’s in the process of being refined through fire that gold comes through pure and unblemished. To trust completely in God, that he knows what he is doing, that his plan is good, that he will help me overcome whatever I face-this is the deep faith that shapes me to be more like him. Deep, lasting joy comes only through a life forged by the fires of sacrifice. It’s what Christ did for me. How can I do any less?

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And Word Filled Wednesday

Storm Preparations

26. March 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: Depression, Spiritual Growth · Tags: Must Love God

I know a few things about storms.

It was late summer of 2004. My husband had gone to join the mob at the gas station. I was home packing boxes with photo albums, important papers and a few childhood mementos. I stood in front of the china cabinet, staring and considering. If we lost everything, what would I wish I had saved? There was the vintage snack plates that were my great-grandmother’s, my white milk glass collection, a Depression era cut glass candy dish that was my grandmother’s, a full china set-but there wasn’t room for it all. I chose a teacup and saucer, inherited from Grandmother’s collection, carefully wrapped it and placed in the box.

To read the rest of this post, visit Must Love God, my writing home today.

Overjoyed

26. March 2012 · 9 comments · Categories: Gratitude Community

Can you have too much joy?

When I completed my bachelor’s degree, many long years ago, I knew there was still much more for me to learn. My hope was to go on and get my Master’s in counseling. Yet we were newly married and couldn’t afford the expense of graduate school right away. My first job out of college was as a counselor at a domestic violence shelter. The pay was so little that I figured it would take years before we’d have enough saved up for me to go back to school. I remember stumbling my way through that job, wanting so desparately to help my hurting clients, yet being so unprepared.

God always provides, and two years later I began the application process for my Master’s in Counseling Psychology. As part of the application process, the psychology program required that students take the MMPI. They gave this test to make sure prospective students were psychologically ready to pursue a profession in counseling.

All these years later, I remember sitting at the computer in the university’s psychology department, taking the test. The questions focused on current psychiatric symptoms, behaviors, and feelings. I was quite nervous when the professor who scored the test called me to come in and discuss it. I sat in front of his desk, stomach tight, heart beating loud in my ears; I was certain he was going to tell me something was drastically wrong.

“The test scores came back as a false positive. This could be related to how you answered the questions. I’d like to go through it with you.” Air rushed out of my mouth in a nearly audible “whoosh.” There was hope that I still might be accepted.

He went through a few of the questions and we talked about why I had answered as I did.

I told him that when I was taking the test, I recalled my adolescent years when I had experienced dark, sad feelings and other symptoms that the test asked about. I explained that I looked at my life in the present and saw how far God had brought me. “Gratitude welled up in me as I was taking this test. My life now is far different from what it was.” I never thought I’d be able to go to college, much less graduate school. The way God rescued me from the dark days of my youth brought about a dramatic change in my life.

As it turns out, my joy in the Lord created a false positive in the psychological exam. But I was accepted into graduate school despite having too much gratitude in my heart and continued to grow in even more amazing ways while studying there. Even today, as I type these words, a rush of gratitude pours into my heart. Is that not what gratitude is-remembering and giving thanks for all He has done?

Continuing to count and remember His graces (#1327-1348):

Looking back on His redemptive work in my life

His continual provision

The paths He takes us down that change us for the better

That brokenness is a good thing

That it’s okay to be overjoyed

The way my oldest describes things in great detail and excitement

Youngest’s questions about heaven

Honest and transparent conversation with a friend

Free books!

A cup of coffee and my journal at Panera

Toes painted the color of roses

Joining up with a writer’s critique group

Paying off a large debt

Thinking I lost my camera and then finding it:)

Giving hard thanks for a rough week with the kids

Their acting up more when my husband is gone shows just how much they love him

Seeing my own heart’s tantrums in my four-year-old’s tantrums

That God loves me despite my struggles

James 4

Signs of summer: beach towels and swim suits hanging out to dry, afternoon thunderstorm, eighty plus degrees

Stepping out despite fear

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Teach Me Jesus Thursdays: Book Review of “The Donkey Who Carried a King”

22. March 2012 · 2 comments · Categories: book reviews

Just in time for Easter, R.C. Sproul has written a new book titled, “The Donkey Who Carried a King.” This children’s picture book focuses on lessons of contentment and humble service, like that of our Savior.

Following the pattern of many of Dr. Sproul’s other children’s stories, the main character has a problem and a close family member tells a story, often an allegory, to help them solve the problem. This story begins with a little boy who was continually being picked last to play games with his friends. He was quite upset so his grandfather told him a story about a donkey named Davey who was never picked for any jobs. Then one day, he was given the important job of carrying a King into Jerusalem. After this experience, he grew prideful and grumbled about other jobs he received, thinking he was too good for them.

Until the day this donkey saw the King being taken up a hill with a cross on his back. He was very upset about the way the King was being treated. Davey ended up having a talk with an older, wiser donkey and learned lessons on humility, service, and contentment. The grandfather concludes with the real story about Jesus, the Humble Servant King.

At the end of the book is a series of discussion questions for parents to use in helping children understand the meaning behind the story.

We have a few of Dr. Sproul’s other children’s books and love each and every one of them. I appreciate how he uses allegory to teach a spiritual truth. My children find the stories engaging and meaningful. The Donkey Who Carried a King was a fun read with my children, sparking enlightening conversations. The illustrations are engaging and interesting to young eyes. This is an excellent book that teaches children not only about following Jesus’ example of humble service, but more importantly, about Jesus, the Servant King who carried the burden of our sins on the cross.

To learn more about this book, visit Reformation Trust Publishers.

I received this book for free from Reformation Trust in exchange for this review. The words and opinions are my own.

The Stories People Tell

21. March 2012 · 20 comments · Categories: God's still working on me

I come to this doctor’s office every week and I have for six years now. We are all here to get our allergy shots-two for me, please. There’s a required waiting time after the shot-thirty minutes (in the case of an anaphylactic reaction). While it’s an annoyance to sit and wait, I think all of us gathered here would rather not have a reaction to our shots. So we wait.

The group in the waiting room is always an interesting mixture of people. There’s usually a teacher, a wealthy man or woman from the Island, occasionally a man I recognize from a tv show, mothers, grandparents, and a few kids. Like unfortunate souls stuck in a broken elevator, those who wait here end up sharing their life stories each week.

Today I walk in and the shot nurse is seated in the waiting room with a few other patients, sharing stories from her life. A kind, grandmotherly type, she always greets me each week, asking about my children. She’s been curious about our homeschooling and checks in with me about how school is going. She takes a break from her story to get my needles ready. I sit in her little closet size shot room in the corner of the doctor’s office and await my shots. She pulls a stack of vials from the refrigerator, whose door is covered with photos of grandchildren and drawings from patients, and finds the two with my name. In one vial contains the dust mites and in the other animals, trees, plants and various molds. Once finished, she returns to the waiting room to resume her story.

I’ve missed much of it but quickly gather that she is sharing one of those “fork in the road” stories that we all have. One by one, people starting contributing their own stories. Soon the room turns nostalgic and a gentleman suggests she writes down her stories for her children and grandchildren.

I am reminded of the time my husband and I sat around the table, the dinner dishes cleared, and “interviewed” my grandfather about his stories from the war. I wrote it all down in a journal. It was these stories that inspired us to visit Normandy and the D-Day beaches last year while we were in France. When I stood on Omaha Beach, I looked out into the waters and imagined my grandfather, a young gunner on ship, shooting away at the enemy.

Our lives are a series of stories, written by the Author of life Himself. Some chapters are a difficult read and others we like to read over and over again. As these stories are shared, they become the glue that links generations together. They give each family their unique identity and keep us from being lost in the wilderness of confusion regarding our place in this world.

When my other grandfather passed away a few years ago, I realized how few of his stories I had heard. As we went through the items at his house, I wondered about each one. “What was happening before this picture was taken?” “Why did he keep this all these years?” “Did he use this fan as a young man to keep cool during hot Virginia summer nights?” “What important news did he hear through the speakers of this radio?” Without stories, those questions cannot be answered.

One year I gave my parents a jar with 52 strips of paper in it. On each slip of paper was a question about their childhood and young adult years. I included questions such as “What did you dream about being when you grew up?” “What was your first car?”What characteristics did you most admire in your parents?” “What do you remember about your grandparents?” and “Which teacher inspired you the most?” I also gave them a journal and in it they were to answer one question a week and return the completed questions to me the following Christmas. This journal, with stories written in their own hand, will be passed down for generations to come.

The group in the waiting room continues to reminisce. One tells a story of how she went out on a prom date with a man and never went out with him again. It was years later that she learned he had become a world-famous artist. Another tells a story of a relative who used to exchange conversations with Thomas Edison. They begin to wonder aloud how stories will be passed on now that few people actually write things down. A few share stories of cherished handwritten notes from loved ones long passed. Everyone agrees that their children will want the stories written down. The thirty minutes have passed and each patient leaves to go their own way.

I look at my children, seated next to me in the waiting room. They have been oblivious to the conversation around them, evidenced by their concentration on the game they are playing, sliding their fingers this way and that across the screen. I think about the stories I have told them and those I still want to pass on to them. We frequently tell them about the circumstances surrounding their birth. My oldest knows he is a hurricane baby (and will one day be relieved we didn’t name him after hurricane Jeanne!). They’ve heard about all the pranks their dad pulled on his friends in college. They know about their late grandfather’s career in the fire department. But there are so many stories left yet to be told…

The question that lingers after we have left the office, how well do they understand how all the stories we tell them fit into God’s Greater Story? Do they see their own connectedness in the story of God’s redemption? Later that night, I remind them that God is writing a story in their own lives. I tell them that even now He is preparing them for a special job in His Kingdom, one that’s been selected just for them. He has made them with particular talents and abilities to use for His glory. And one day, they will have their own stories to tell and pass on.

What about you? How do you pass on stories in your family?

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And Word Filled Wednesday

A Father’s Boots

19. March 2012 · 13 comments · Categories: Gratitude Community

How does a boy fill his father’s shoes? Or in this case, boots?

In generations past, most boys learned their father’s trade as they grew up, and upon adulthood, were ready to work in the family business. These days, it’s more the exception than the rule that a child will pursue the same career as their parent. In the case of my husband, firefighting runs in his blood; his great-grandfather and late father were both firefighters. His father was well-respected and still renowned for all he did for the city and department in which he worked-his are big boots to fill.

The brotherhood of the fire department deeply impacted my husband’s young heart after his father had died when he was thirteen. The way they honored his father’s passing, as well as the help and support they provided his family, gave him all the more reason to follow in his father’s footsteps. There is a special connection and bond that firefighters have for one another that is rarely seen elsewhere. They are known to drop whatever they are doing at a moment’s notice to help one another. I saw this first hand when a group of firefighters drove an hour and a half on their day off to our house to help us with hurricane damage. We had just had our first child and couldn’t get to it ourselves. My husband never asked for the help, they just came.

This past week marked a milestone in my husbands walk in his late father’s footsteps. He was promoted to Captain at the fire department, the same rank his father held when he passed away. There was a formal ceremony marking this occasion where he received his Captain’s badge.

Attending this ceremony created a mixture of sadness and joy for the family. Joy and celebration of this achievement-after all, my husband had studied for a year before taking the Captain’s exam-and sadness that his father was not there to celebrate with us. Because of this, I decided to pass on the assumed role of placing his new badge on his uniform and instead gave the job to my mother-in-law. It seemed only fitting that she should do it rather than me.

Many earthly father’s just aren’t worthy to follow in their steps. I sat in the ceremony thankful for my Heavenly Father whose steps are worthy to follow. The bloodied footprints made by Jesus on the road to the cross enabled me to become a child of God. I am part of the brother and sisterhood of the family of God and an heir of the rich inheritance to come. He not only calls me to follow in his steps but he also makes me able to follow him. And one day, there will be a great banquet where I will receive, not a badge, but a crown of life.

1295-1326

Thankful for a promotion earned after much hard work

For the deeper significance it means to my husband and the family

For my boys to see and appreciate the ceremony

That they have a wonderful father worthy to follow

Boys trying on their dads hat

For family and friends to celebrate it with

Tirimisu and Sangria

That God is the perfect Father who sacrificed for me so that I could follow Him

For the Body of Christ and fellowship I have with believers

Cute baby Sandhill Cranes on the side of the road

my children’s distractibility reminding me of my own distracted heart

pizza with friends

clean laundry

sunshine, bright green grass, clear blue skies

educator discount card at the book store

the boy’s excitement upon returning from their first laser tag experience

Reading heart-felt honesty from other bloggers and receiving encouragement

Walking a similar road of sacrifice with a friend in which we spur one another on

Leftovers

A big brother spending an hour building a robot out of legos who then gives it to his brother when his brother asked if he could have it

Anticipation of a new water park

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Book Review: When the Hurt Runs Deep

17. March 2012 · 4 comments · Categories: book reviews

For many, life’s hurts do run deep. The trials, pains and sorrows of our lives can cut deep canyons into our hearts. The impact of loss, abuse, rejection, and debilitating illness can wreak havoc in our lives for many years. We may cry out and question God asking, “Why?”

Why does God allow such pain in our lives and how do we get through it?

This is the question that Kay Arthur addresses in her book titled “When the Hurt Runs Deep.” As a gifted Bible study teacher, she takes us deep into Scripture for the answers we need. She teaches through much of the book of Job, in verse by verse fashion, showing the source and reasons for suffering. She emphasizes God’s sovereignty in all things, including our pain, hurt, and suffering. Kay Arthur points out errors in common thinking that Christians should and will be free of suffering and goes into detail describing the reasons why God allows deep pain in our lives. Her tone is compassionate, yet continually affirms the truth in God’s word.

She takes us to Scripture as well for the answers on how to handle suffering. There are a few passages in Scripture that she recommends memorizing to give hope when the hurt runs deep. She also uses example of friends she has known who went through great trials, sharing how their faith strengthened them. She also shares with great transparency about her own hurts, all the while lovingly directing us to the Source of all healing.

When I chose this book to review, I selected it because I knew Kay Arthur would address the problem of pain biblically and I wasn’t wrong. I appreciated the compassion and understanding tone in her writing. The practical helps and verses to study brought me directly to the lap of my Father, the God of all comfort. I believe strongly in the importance of developing a theology of suffering before tragedy or trial strikes. This book will be an essential aid to anyone desiring to do just that.

This book also includes a study guide at the back of the book. It can be used individually or in groups. For more information on this book, visit her website Precept Ministries. Want to read chapter one? Click here. For more information about Kay Arthur, click here.

Interested in a free copy of this book? Leave a comment in the comment box below and you’ll be entered in the drawing to be done on 3/24.

Update 3/24: Random.org randomly selected KanalyKoaster as the winner of this book. Congratulation!

I received this book for free from Waterbrook Multnomah Publishers in exchange for this review.

Deep into Community

16. March 2012 · 4 comments · Categories: Spiritual Growth · Tags: Christian Stay at Home Moms

I was sitting around the semicircle of chairs. It was Tuesday morning, the day when our ladies bible study meets at my church. We were going around the room, taking turns sharing prayer requests. I wrote down each person’s request: health concerns, legal issues, rest, healthy pregnancy, etc.

Then it was my turn. Feeling the Spirit’s prompting, I stepped out and requested prayer for my struggle with depression. I opened up about my battle and the challenges I’ve faced.

I wasn’t sure if I had made the right decision, going deeper as I did.

To read the rest of this post, visit CSAHM, another writing home.

Teach Me Jesus Thursdays: on expectations and grace

15. March 2012 · 5 comments · Categories: Parenting, Teach Me Jesus

Recently, the four of us were attending a banquet at a country club. Crisp white table linens covered the round tables. There were multiple forks and spoons at each seat and glass goblets from which to drink. Unfamiliar territory for my sons, to be sure.

I will come right out and tell you that I was embarrassed by my children’s behavior at that dinner. My oldest grabbed the fork of the woman seated next to him and along with his own utensils, proceeded to make a catapult. Neither of my boys would stay in their seat and when they did sit, it was with their knees bent and feet up on their chairs. They were loud and violated the space of others at the table.

I wanted to hide my head.

Source: Lisa Tarplee Photography

Since then, we’ve been working on manners. Time will tell if we are successful or not. But it reminded me that there were lessons yet to be learned.

“Mom! I can’t obey all day!” My four-year old tells me this with all sincerity. My husband told the boys that if they were good listeners during homeschool, he would take them somewhere fun later in the day. That somewhere fun, meaning laser tag. I started to say, “All I want you to do is listen the first time” but then realized it was statements like that he was responding to.

Last week he had responded to me in similar fashion by saying “We are not perfect, Mom.” We had just left a store where the boys saw a specific toy they had desired for quite some time. I don’t think they are emotionally mature enough to handle the responsibility of such a toy and pointed out that a chronic behavior problem of theirs would most likely worsen if they owned the toy. I told them that when their behavior improves, I would consider it.

Source: Lisa Tarplee Photography

When I hear repeated statements like that, I need to pay attention. They are like road signs pointing me to make a turn. The GPS we use often uses the phrase, “at the T junction, turn right.” I am at a “T” junction with my boys.

Too often I expect behavior and place demands on them that they are incapable, like manners at a formal dinner. And just like the Pharisees in Jesus’ day, I add rules and place extra restrictions for which they are just not ready. My children were ignorant of the expected manners required at the country club. They are still too immature yet to have the level of self-control I have been expecting.

I remember a professor once saying that sometimes people are suffering from psychological symptoms because they need to learn a skill. For example, it might be that they need to learn social skills. Or perhaps they need to learn coping or anger management skills. In these situations, their problem stems from ignorance and learning the needed skill will improve their situation.

In reading the book of Mark lately, I’ve noticed how gracious Jesus was with his disciples. They had what Christ referred to as “little faith.” They frequently doubted and didn’t believe their Lord. They questioned and challenged His actions. Yet, He responded in grace and simply taught them the same lessons again. And again. And again.

I will have to teach my kids the same lessons over and over, just as God does for me. Each time we sit at the dinner table, I will have to remind them of proper table manners. Will I buy them the much desired toy? I still don’t know, but I do know that they need grace to be taught what they do not know and grace to not expect more than they are able.

What lessons are you learning through your kids today?