“No one is happy with their life. I don’t care what anyone says.”

My quiet contemplation was interrupted when I heard a woman’s voice speak these words. I was seated in a salon, enjoying a rare moment to myself and a much-needed haircut.

I had overheard a conversation between another customer and their stylist. I quietly spoke to my own stylist, “Who knew a salon could be a place where deep philosophy is discussed?” She laughed and said, “I know. Until now, I didn’t know that I wasn’t happy with my life.”

I continued listening to the conversation, and heard the woman conclude that everyone should just enjoy all the illegal substances they want. “That’s what I’m going to do. I turn 60 this year. I might not make it to 61. I might as well enjoy myself.”

They say that hair stylists and bartenders are the real person’s therapists and it seems true. This woman had revealed the truth within her heart. Most people live out what she said but rarely admit out loud that they are not happy with their life.

Without Christ, there is no hope of heaven. Without Christ, this life is all there is. Without Christ, there is a deep emptiness. Without Christ, people fill their emptiness with false gods and false hope.

When a person has no joy in their heart they often fill their empty places with counterfeit solutions-drugs, money, food, fame, power, etc. When there’s no faith in a personal and loving God, you have no one else to live for but yourself.

As I thought about the conversation later, I prayed for the woman and her soul. I was reminded that without Christ, I would see life in the same way. It’s only in Christ and because of Christ that I have joy-in the present and in the life to come.

Because He fills all the empty places in my heart, I don’t need to fill my heart with counterfeits. Because I have the hope of heaven, I don’t need to live my life for myself. Because He fills my every need, I have deep joy, no matter the difficult circumstances that come my way.

I was saddened by the apathy and fatalistic view of life I overheard in the salon that day. But in reality, anyone without Christ is in the same place as the woman I overheard. It is a good reminder for me to pray for the lost, that they too would have the same hope as I. And it is also a good reminder that “but for the grace of God, there go I.”

 

Counting His grace, #1443-1464:

The grace of God that has brought me from death to life

That my happiness is not found in things, circumstances, or blessings but in God alone

That I was made for another world

Unexpected cold day before summer hits

cub scouts fire department tour

costarican coffee ice cream

signs of maturity in my boys

Hebrews 4:15

The simple joy of sitting still for a while and getting a much-needed haircut

Finishing up our curriculum for the year

Getting started on our summer curriculum-simple machines!

A couple of hours of quiet at home by myself

Matthew Henry’s commentary on the Bible

Clean house, clean laundry, and beds all made:)

Pears dipped in Nutella

Ian engaged and interested in his child’s edition of the Pilgrim’s Progress and the wonderful conversations it triggered

1 and 2 Peter

Playing Sequence with my oldest son-when did he become an equal match?

Learning the wonderful news that my dear friend has been declared cancer free!

My seven-year-old playing chess against my friend on the phone. Even better, watching them play it against each other, seated next to each other on the couch, phone in hands:)

Ian pointing out to me a spiritual error in a book I had checked out from the library. “Mommy, I don’t like that book. It makes her sounds like she is God.”

What can you thank Him for today?

 

Linking up with:

I’m over at Christian Stay at Home Moms today. This month we’ve been talking about brokenness and today’s post is the last in the series.

Have you ever met someone who has struggled with the same battle as you? Have you ever helped someone through a difficult journey that you yourself once walked?

I have a friend in the faith who has experienced deep brokenness in her life. Her faith during these painful times has been a testimony to me. Seeing the way God has worked in the life of my friend gives me hope in what He can do in and through my own brokenness.

God not only uses our brokenness to draw us closer to Him, but also uses it to draw others to Himself.

To read the rest of this post, visit CSAHM.

My boys fight with each other every day. In fact, the role I play the most in my home is as a referee. Recently, one of my sons was aggravating the other and he responded back by hitting. “Mom!” I heard from the kitchen. I came in to see what happened. My oldest was crying because he was hurt. The youngest was hiding under his covers.

I talked to them separately. “Do you love your brother?” “Of course!” my youngest exclaims, offended that I asked. “When you hit him, you are not showing him that you love him.”

I talked to the oldest. I point out to him that he was provoking his brother. I tell him his behavior was not showing love toward his brother. “But he shouldn’t have hit me!” he responded.

To read the rest of this post, visit When You Rise where I am guest posting today.

 

How often do people live out their name’s meaning? Do our names always define who we are? If not, where do we find our true selves?

Interesting questions, I know. Too deep? Maybe.

There are many books of the Bible I go through over and over and think I know them inside and out. Then there are times I go through them slowly, with no expectations and no preconceptions. I taste and savor each verse. I meditate and consider the meaning. I let it sink down into my heart, planting seeds of truth.

It’s then that I’m struck down and lose my breath.

I’ve read the book of Philemon countless times in my life and this past week as I read it again, I realized I am Onesimus. I am a thief, a runaway slave, the prodigal child. Deserving punishment for my sins, I fear returning home to my Master. I’m ashamed, feel worthless, and unloved.

And then, in steps a substitute, one willing to take all the punishment in my stead. The Son of God in the flesh takes the death penalty for me, wiping the slate clean, allowing me to return home without fear.

This is what Paul did for Onesimus. “So if you consider me a partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. If he has done you any wrong or owes you anything, charge it to me. I Paul am writing this with my own hand. I will pay it back.” (Philemon 17-19) Onesimus had stolen from his master and ran away. He came to know the Lord through Paul’s ministry. Paul wrote this letter to tell Philemon of the change in his slaves heart and ask that he return without fear of punishment.

Onesimus was welcomed back, as are we. Onesimus means “useful.” Paul used a play on his name when he wrote “Formerly he was useless to you, but now he has become useful both to you and to me.” (11) Once a useless, rebellious slave, now useful because he had become a child of God.

“As Christ doth for us with God the Father, so doth St. Paul with Philemon for Onesimus. We are all God’s Onesimi, to my thinking.” Martin Luther

The grace of God saved us through the death of His Son, changing us from useless to useful. No longer runaways, now we are children of the living God. We can take joy that we are Onesimi of God. Taking on this name means we’ve found our true selves in Christ. We’ve found our home in the Kingdom and our future as heirs. He has made us useful. As He changed Simon into the Rock, He changes us into who we’re meant to be.

We can run from Him. We can hide in shame. We can think we are useless and worthless. But the Father cannot be outrun. There’s nothing we can do to make Him love us less; His love is even greater than our very worst sin.

Not only am I Onesimus, but I have other Onesimi in my life. Paul shows me in Philemon what gospel love looks like. He reminds me that when I have been wronged or wounded, I need to extend the same forgiveness that I’ve received. As he reminded Philemon, I’ve been forgiven for much more than the sins committed against me (v.19).

The story of Onesimus and Philemon is our story. It’s a story of mercy, grace and forgiveness. It’s the story of the prodigal returning home to the arms of a father, opened wide. And it’s in the arms of our Father where we find our true selves.

Have you found your true self in Christ?

“I learned the truth of the gospel…That I am not measured by the good I do but by the grace I accept. That being lost is a prerequisite to being found. That living a life of faith is not lived in the light, it is discovered in the dark. That not being a saint here on earth will not necessarily keep you from being in that number when the march begins.” Robert Benson in All is Grace: A Ragamuffin Memoir by Brennan Manning

Linking up with:

Beholding Glory

On In Around button
And
Word Filled Wednesday

Eating breakfast one morning, my oldest passes me our devotional book. “Mom, will you read to us?” He looks at me with expectation. My youngest, yogurt encircling his mouth, smiles wide. They love when I read to them in the morning, filling their souls as well as bellies.

The story for that morning was Moses asking to see God’s glory. “The Lord replied, “I will make all my goodness pass before you, and I will call out my name, Yahweh, before you. For I will show mercy to anyone I choose, and I will show compassion to anyone I choose. But you may not look directly at my face, for no one may see me and live.” Exodus 33:19,20

The boys and I talked about how it was Moses’ frustration with the Israelites that prompted his desire to see to see God’s glory. They were “stiff-necked” and disobedient and he wanted to show them God’s goodness.

When life gets frustrating, hard, and painful, we can ask to see His glory. Seeing His glory gives us strength to love others and to live more like Christ. Like Moses, the closer we get to God, the more we reflect His love and grace.

I ask, “Where do we see the glory of God?” (thinking of the Bible). My oldest replies, “Well, it’s all around us.”

His glory is all around us. It’s in the raging sea and in the snow-capped mountains. It’s in the strength He gives me to endure trials. It’s in the love of friends and family. And it’s in the faces of two smiling boys.

It’s in all the graces I list here each week.

And like Moses, will my experiences of His glory shine through me? Will it radiate for others to see?

“Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” Matthew 5:16

Counting my experiences of His goodness this week (1421-1442):

Safe and uneventful flight home

A sinus infection where my head feels like it’s floating in the air-a reminder that Christ grounds me

Strength when I didn’t have any

Strawberry breakfast bread pudding

Philemon

Babysitter getting a snake off our porch so I wouldn’t have to:)

Cup of tea and books to read by myself

Listening to Ian practicing whistling around the house

Less than sixty days until vacation with friends to TN

Tazo Passion Tea

Thunder and lightning, listening to rain on our metal roof

Soccer getting rained out so we can spend the day at home

New friends over for dinner

Sunlight shining through raindrops

Seeing God at work in friend’s life

That nothing takes God by surprise

Finishing science display board

Unconditional love

Reading a new book by Brennan Manning

Broken water softener reminding me that Jesus is the living water

Lunch with our church family

Linking up with:

“Didn’t we go through this all yesterday? Don’t you remember the consequence?”

My youngest had started off his day on the grumpy side. He had the same problems with his temper the day before as well. I thought to myself, “Oh no, not again. I really don’t have the energy for this.”

What if God said the same to me when I commit the same sin, yet again?

I so easily forget that parenting is a marathon and not a sprint. I focus my energies on my children’s outward behaviors, of trying to get them to stop a certain problematic behavior, and then breathe a sigh of relief when it seems they have learned their lesson. I mark it off on the list: 1)not running in the parking lot-check, 2) listening the first time-check, 3) sharing their toys-check, 4) no angry outbursts-check. But a few weeks go by, and they are back to the same problem again. I get frustrated and think, “what went wrong?”

Children are sinful, fallen humans just like the rest of us. And like the rest of us, they will continue to sin until the Lord returns.

I focus on specific behavior, especially whatever frustrates me most, and often forget the more important issue-their heart. All sin stems from a core heart problem. My efforts and energies in parenting my children need to focus on pointing them to the cross and the grace of the gospel.

The most important thing any of us need, including our children, is to see how sinful we are and how much we need a Savior. Secondly, we need to come to know and love our Savior who died for our sins. We need to know we’ve been forgiven because Jesus was the perfect sacrifice. We need to know that God looks at us and sees the perfect life Jesus lived.

My children need to know all of that too.

It takes a lifetime to walk this path of holiness. Even the apostle Paul, after many years of serving Jesus faithfully, described himself as the worst of sinners. Getting frustrated because my boys haven’t learned a rule I’ve told them a hundred times, means that I’ve forgotten the goal of parenting.

My job is to reflect the grace of God and disciple my children in the gospel of grace. The more they come to grasp what Jesus did for them, the more they will respond in love and obedience to the One who saved them.

I have my own struggles with sin. I have my own challenges with learning the lessons God is teaching me. There is no doubt that God has to repeatedly remind me of the truth, time and time again.

As I run this race alongside my children, I need to encourage them to keep running. I need to remind them of what lies ahead, why we are on this path, and who laid this path for us to follow. No matter how many times they fall or run off the course, I need to help them continue forward. They won’t win the race today; it’s a slow and steady run to the finish.

“Mommy, I need a hug.” My little guy had calmed down and asked to sit on my lap for a while. We snuggled, talked, and prayed.

Isn’t that what our Father wants to do with us? When we stumble in sin, God wants us to repent and remember what Jesus accomplished for us-gaining us free and easy access to the lap of our Father.

Have you had a “teach me Jesus” moment this week?

 

 

I’ve come to this mountain before. Each time I stand in its shadow, I feel the same way-afraid. It’s high, treacherous, and impossible to climb. Yet, climbing it is the only way to the other side. I freeze in fear, my feet heavy blocks of ice. I want to turn around and go back the way I came. But I can’t stay here, stuck in the in-between-between where I’ve been and where I’m called to be.

Some days, my faith doesn’t seem strong enough, large enough, or brave enough. I walk the narrow path God has laid out for me but when I get to rocky parts, where the travel is hard, I resist and try to find another way.

I read stories about giants in the faith who lived fearlessly for God. I think about the disciples Jesus chose and how they dropped their nets and followed him, even to the point of death. And I think about Jesus being willing to give up his life for me.

How do I stay on a path that will most likely lead to pain and suffering? How do I follow when I am fearful of what might happen?

Nearly every Sunday afternoon, all throughout my childhood, we visited my grandparents who lived the next town over. Summers were my favorite time, when grandpa’s watermelons were ripe and ready to eat. He’d take one out of the garden, slice it, and that first bite was sweet heaven. Pink, sugary juice dripped down my chin and onto my shirt. No melon from the grocery store has ever compared.

Most of those afternoons I spent reading a book on the couch. Across from me, my dad and grandfather sat and discussed news, politics, the economy, and especially the war. It seemed that no matter the topic, grandpa always ended up turning the conversation to discussing his days in the army during WWII.

My husband and I went to Normandy last year and stood on those very same beaches to see for ourselves this place that changed the course of the war and where so many had lost their lives. Both my grandfathers were there during the beach invasions of Northern France, one in the army and the other in the navy.

What kind of faith and courage does it take to walk into the unknown and even give up your very life?

I stood at the now peaceful shores on the English Channel and pictured my maternal grandfather out in the sea firing at the planes overhead aboard a naval vessel. I imagined my other grandfather leading his troops to join in the fight on this very shore. Standing there with our tour guide, I listened as he told story after story of the events of that day and those that followed. Sadly, I now wish I had listened more to my grandfather’s stories. I wish I could ask him all the questions that ran through my mind as we walked the same places he had walked. I long to ask how he faced his own fears and how he walked resolutely into battle. But he’s been gone a few years now, and the stories along with him.

The bravery of all those young soldiers that swam ashore amazes me. The guns hidden in the hills mowed them down, row by row. I stood by one of those guns and thought about the courage it takes to walk straight into the line of fire.

For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. Matthew 16:25

We toured the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc. Our tour guide described how the rangers had climbed up those steep cliffs by hand. All the while, German soldiers were throwing down grenades at them from above.

I think about my own hills I need to climb and the battles that are before me. I have so many fears that hold me back-fear of failure, of the unknown, and of the certain pain that comes during battle. What if I fall? What if I’m not strong enough? What if I don’t have what it takes to make it?

Having recently celebrated our Lord’s death and resurrection, I think about how Jesus resolutely rode into Jerusalem to shouts of praise, even while knowing what awaited Him at the end of the week. I think of Him praying in the garden, emotionally overcome by the events that were mere hours away. Despite his fear, when the soldiers arrived to arrest him, he calmly said, ”"Friend, do what you came for.” Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him”. (Matthew 26:50)

I read in Philippians where Paul says, “for to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (1:21) He considered all his suffering a privilege and gladly faced death knowing what was laid up for him in heaven. ”Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day-and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” 2 Timothy 4:8

When I stood there on the beach, humbled by the bravery of so many young men, I thought about my faith. It seems so small when I stand trembling before the giants in my life. Like most of the Israelite spies, I run the other way, saying there’s no way I can cross into the new land. I’d rather return to Egypt, where at least I know what to expect. But I know God is calling me forward to something new. He wants me to face the battle, walk directly into what frightens me, and endure any trials that come. I’m afraid to walk into the fire, but isn’t that what Jesus did for me? Didn’t he face the enemy head on? And didn’t he endure what feared him the most-rejection from his father?

“Look! I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods.” Daniel 3:25

It was Jesus’ love for God’s children that moved him forward to the cross. He knew the joy that lay ahead, the peace and restoration that his death would bring. He knew that after death follows resurrection-of life, of hope, and of joy. The apostle Paul knew that eternity in heaven with his Savior was worth imprisonment, poverty, starvation, torture and even death. And soldiers, like my both of my grandfathers, knew that stopping the spread of an evil empire was worth the risk of death.

Even though my faith is often imperfect and seemingly small, Jesus said it only takes faith as small as a mustard seed to move mountains. God accepts imperfect faith, for even the most hesitant touch can bring instant healing. He can take my weak faith and use it to strengthen me for the battles I face. Through his grace, I can live a life of sacrifice and suffering because I know he is there in the fire with me. I can climb the seemingly insurmountable mountain I face because Jesus climbed Calvary’s hill for my sake. I can run straight into the unknown because I know the joy and crown that awaits me.

Do you have any mountains you fear to climb? Are there any battles you are facing today?

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” 1 Peter 1:3-9

Linking up with:

Beholding Glory

And Word Filled Wednesday

I was sixteen when my father lost his job. Worry found me that year, stomach tight, thoughts all jumbled, and eyes dropping tears. Tension was high in our house. I hid away in my room where the “what if’s” of worry kept me prisoner, “What if we can’t buy food?” “What if I have to leave my school?” “What if he can’t find a new job?”

God often sends us grace silently, like an unexpected gift.

It could be a smile from a stranger, a needed hug from a friend, or words of thanks from a child. Sometimes it’s found in the heady scent of a flower or in seeing the sun break through the clouds. God gives us gifts in thousands of ways, including little pleasures and the things we enjoy.

Yet, sometimes grace comes as hope when it seems there was none. For me, hope came in the shape of teenage friends.

The first gift arrived in a bag of lunch. I was sitting with a friend during lunch at school and she handed me a sandwich. “What’s this for?” I asked. “My mom made an extra one” she said.

Had she noticed I hadn’t been bringing lunches to school for a while?

Every day, until my father was employed, my friend brought me a lunch her mother had packed just for me.

Just before Thanksgiving that year, another gift of hope arrived. It was Sunday evening and I heard a knock at the door. I opened it to find three kids from my youth group at church. They were carrying bags from the grocery store. They had brought us everything we would need for Thanksgiving dinner. That was a Thanksgiving meal I never forgot and probably never will.

Even when hope seems lost, He leaves a trail of gifts. Sometimes they are small, sweet treats, and other times they are much-needed provisions. Following the trail, counting the graces as they are found, leads to new-found hope.

And sometimes, it’s the unexpected graces that linger in the heart the longest.

Counting His gifts and all the unexpected ways He loves (1399-1420):

The way God provides for all our needs

Traveling with my husband while he works

Kids who are used to flying and traveling-they know the routine

Homeschooling away from home

Meeting up with a blogging friend!

Touring the Atlanta Botanical Gardens-I could have stayed for days!

My boys and my friends kids had a blast together

The beauty of God’s creation in bloom

Salad of mixed greens, figs, and blackberries

Listening to birds sing while sitting on the porch

Shrimp and grits

Visiting Legoland Discovery Center in Atl.

New legos to build

The kids discovering honeysuckles at the park and experiencing its taste for the first time

Beautiful weather

Meeting up with old college friends

Exploring the Chattahoochee Nature Center

Kids pretending to do the weather

Almond encrusted french toast

Rope burns-evidence of fun on the ropes course at Stone Mountain

Psalm 34 and 1 Timothy

 


Linking up with:

 

 

Spring is here. Flowers are blooming everywhere I look. The trees that last month were dead and bare, now sprout brightly verdant leaves. The air is warm and windows are open wide to let in the fresh spring air.

All this new life is a reflection of the resurrection we just celebrated. Spring reminds us that death comes before new life, brokenness before healing. Emptiness precedes fullness and winter always comes before spring.

Want to read the rest of this post? I’m over here today

(This post had actually been posted for a few hours a couple of weeks ago. I was in the middle of changing blog hosts and the post was lost. I recovered it and am posting it today.)

We had been sitting in the school room for an hour. I’m certain that nothing was completed during those sixty minutes. Though seated on opposite sides of the room, they managed to distract one another. They giggled and made jokes. My oldest half stood at his seat and my youngest climbed on the furniture.

I was quite frustrated, to say the least. Their distractibility had made it impossible for any learning to take place.

It made me think about how often I am distracted from what God is teaching me. I get involved in projects and responsibilities that keep me from Him. I get pulled away by the lures of the world. In fact, I may be just as distracted as my children, if not more.

My heart finds many things to put in first place, instead of God. When I have a goal or project in mind, it consumes me to the point of neglecting God. My free time is used up in frivolous pursuits rather than in quiet communion with Him. I day-dream in front of the computer, searching for things that will not last.

Again and again He reminds me and calls me back to the path He’s laid for me. He continues to give me grace no matter how many times I wander.

I remind myself of this as I ask my oldest, yet again, to be seated. I sit right next to him and direct his attention to the work in front of him. I breathe in deep of the grace given to me and breathe out patience to these little ones who so often mirror my own heart and soul.

How does parenting reveal sin in your own heart?