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Waging War

Apr18

warriorWe have a hot tub as a part of our swimming pool, and when we sit in it as a family, my kids enjoy playing a game where someone thinks of a word, and the others compete to see who can come up with a song that includes that word. It’s amusing what I can pull out of the archives of my mind. Especially when they try to come up with obscure words. Recently, one of them challenged us with the word “warrior.” I know a song with that word in it, but for the life of me I couldn’t conjure the words or the tune in my head. It had been a long time since I’d heard it. I remembered the name of the artist, though, So when we finally went inside, I went to my computer and googled “Twila Paris, warrior.” The song, of course, popped right up: “The Warrior is a Child.”

“They don’t know that I go running home when I fall down. They don’t know who picks me up when no one is around. I drop my sword and cry for just awhile. ‘Cause deep inside this armor, the warrior is a child.”

The battle gets wearying, doesn’t it? We’re fighting for our marriages; we’re fighting for the minds of our children; we’re fighting for Truth. I’m just tired. I don’t want to monitor my boys’ internet activity. I don’t want to work with my daughter on how she responds to authority. I don’t want to write my congressman about making sure our rights as Americans are protected. It’s too hard. I’m too tired. But what happens if I don’t do these things? The results would be catastrophic.

Galatians 6:9 says “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Warriors don’t give up. “I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ, so firm on His promise I’ll stand” to quote another battle song.

Twila Paris said it so well back in the day, so stand strong as you listen to her song. Hang in there, Warrior!

photo courtesy of pinimg.com

While You Were Sleeping

Apr16

 Sleeping Morgan2I remember my kids’ baby days, when we were sleep deprived and wondering if this marvelous creature would ever sleep through the night. The first time they finally did, I remember waking up in a panic thinking “Are they all right?” I would listen carefully to the baby monitor beside my bed, trying to catch the sound of their breath. If nothing could be detected, I would creep silently to their room, ease open the door, sneak to the end of their crib and look carefully for the small movement of their chest.

Now, I fall asleep sometimes before my eldest gets home from work. Generally a light sleeper, I’m always surprised that I don’t hear him come in the house. When I wake up in the middle of the night and realize that he should have been home hours ago, that moment of panic again sets in. Sometimes, I get up, go to the garage door—which is closer than his bedroom door—just to make sure the car is there. Then I can go back to sleep.

There’s no reason the car should not be there, I tell myself. I just slept through his arrival.

There’s no reason that newborn baby shouldn’t be alive, she’s finally just big enough to not need a meal until full morning.

You know, God never panics. Psalm 121:3,4 says “He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.” He is always watchful, He is ever wakeful, He never tires of holding us in the palm of His hand.

This Little Light Of Mine

Mar16

sunshine in darknessWe lose a lot of stuff around our house. My husband currently can’t find his ear buds. And for an audiophile who bought and returned approximately 13 pairs of earbuds before he found ones he likes, that’s a big deal. But they’ve gone missing for about 2 weeks now.

I can’t find my black sweater. I wear it all the time. But it disappeared about the same time the ear buds did. I probably left it somewhere, but I have no recollection of wearing it out and taking it off.

My eldest son recently lost a special coin that was given to him by the Chief Master Sergeant of his AFJROTC unit. Ended up it was in his book bag all along. That stomach dropping, heart squeezing panic while he couldn’t find it, though, were very real.

I’ve been saying for years that I want to find a bumper sticker that says, “Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most.” That’s classic.

The other night, my daughter’s school had an evening celebration for all the families. Each class presented something that they’d been learning about in their all-school unit on missions. My daughter dressed in a traditional Kazakh outfit loaned to her by a friend of mine who had been to the country. To accessorize, she wore a little blue-beaded stretchy bracelet. As I was chatting with friends out on the patio afterward, enjoying food from different nations, Morgan came up to me in a panic, wanting to borrow my phone. Not to make a call, mind you, but to use the flashlight feature.

In a little while it was time to leave, my phone battery had died, and Morgan was still upset. Playing by the playground, somehow she had lost that bracelet when someone had attempted to grab her and gotten ahold of the bracelet instead. She was heart broken that it was lost. This little bracelet wasn’t worth anything to anyone but Morgan. That night, finding that bracelet was her sole focus. But it was very dark and a little iPhone flashlight wasn’t doing the trick. She went home without it.

The next day, on another errand at the church building where our school meets, I remembered about the bracelet. Knowing it would be a lot easier to look in the bright light of a sunny morning, I went around back and started my search. Within a few minutes, I found the lost treasure. And Morgan was grateful. In order to find Morgan’s little bracelet in the expanse of the church playground, I needed a greater light; the light of the sun.

As we learned throughout the last couple of weeks in school, spiritual darkness veils much of the world, including, increasingly, North America. Unless the Light of the World shines into that darkness, that which is lost will not be found. He’s a much brighter light than anything we can bring on our own. Will you help push back that darkness by bringing His light into the dark places?

The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.

photo from dadsprimalscream.wordpress.com

Speaking My Language

Feb27

Jesús-te-amaLet’s say you’re taking a class in conversational Spanish. You’ve been in class for a few months and have learned many fine phrases like “Me llamo Stephanie,” and “Dondé esta el baño?” Very useful. But you know you’re not exactly at the point where you can have a conversation. You look around your classroom and see that not everyone in the room is at the same level. Some have absorbed more than others and will be further along in their ability to actually speak the language to a native Spanish speaker. But all of them can converse a bit, anyway. But you don’t go out and try to talk like a native speaker.

Now, let’s say, you’ve got several years of conversational Spanish under your belt, you feel confident in your fluency, so you go to a local coffee shop and try to order from the waitress in Spanish using your hard-earned prowess. Unless she, too, knows Spanish, the waitress is going to give you a blank stare. And then you hear everyone else in the room, and none of them are speaking Spanish. Do you then wonder what’s wrong with everyone? Why aren’t they speaking Spanish? You’re speaking Spanish, and pretty darn well, thank you very much! Why isn’t everyone speaking Spanish?

This is how I feel I react sometimes when I expect people who don’t know Jesus to act like people who do. I expect that they will get along well with each other. I expect that they will handle conflict in a godly way. I expect that they will react to adversity with grace and peace. I expect that movies and music and TV shows will be tasteful and clean.

But expecting those kinds of things from people who don’t know Jesus is like expecting those who have never taken Spanish to speak it fluently. You can’t know what you haven’t learned. You can’t act like Jesus if you don’t know who He is. This should not shock me. Even I who know Him fail to act like Him many times.

Do I like it that my son’s friends use vulgar language? No. But should I expect anything different from them if they don’t know the One who makes them clean?

Do I like it that there’s so much drama in places where humans have to work together? No. But should I be shocked that those who don’t know the Prince of Peace act in a confrontational manner?

If the people to whom I want to speak Spanish don’t know the language, maybe I should be teaching them or bringing them with me to class. Then we can have conversations together and even teach each other new words as maybe they learn faster than I do.

If the people I find myself in contact with don’t know Jesus, maybe I should be telling them about Him. If I’m not willing to do that, I certainly should stop being shocked that they act the way they do.

You can’t know what you haven’t learned. You can’t act like Someone you’ve never even met.

Always Keep Looking At Jesus

Nov27

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This morning, the day before we celebrate Thanksgiving in America, I was reading a devotional by Pastor Ed Young. His last words to me today were these: Always keep looking at Jesus, and tell others what you see.

With so much controversy, meanness and downright hate we hear from everyone from the press to the people on the street these days, these words are brilliant. Always keep looking at Jesus, and tell others what you see.

Oh, if only everyone, even those who don’t follow Him, would do that, how much different would things be? When I look at Jesus, I see obedience. He always and only did what His Father told Him to do. He obeyed his earthly parents. The result of that was a perfect life, lived always at the center of the Father’s will. How did He do that? Well, being fully God Himself helped, but He listened. He often went off to a quiet place to pray. His food was to do the will of the One who sent Him.

When I look at Jesus, I see compassion. He healed those who came around Him—and even some who had to have someone come in their stead. He spoke kindly. He had life in His words for those who were dying. The only time he spoke roughly, it wasn’t to sinners, it was to those who thought they were godly, but were “whitewashed sepulchers.” They might look good on the outside, but inside, they held only death. Hypocrites. He had no tolerance for them. The lost He lead to life. I don’t know who said it, but I love this quote: Jesus did not come to make bad people good; He came to make dead people live. Jesus’ words brought life to those who heard Him.

When I look at Jesus, I see unconditional love. He knew people all around Him were bound for hell, and He loved them. He spent time with them—yes, sinners! He taught them. And then, in the act of ultimate love, He died for them. The Scriptures say that without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sins. Without forgiveness, people perish. Ultimate love, ultimate compassion, ultimate obedience.

When people see me, hear me, read what I write, can they tell I’ve been looking at Jesus?

When you look at Jesus, what do you see?

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