Dirty Water

Last night, Christina shouted from upstairs “Mom, come quick, there is something wrong with the tub!”  I ran upstairs and she was standing there, still dripping from her shower, and sure enough the tub was full of brown soapy water.  “What is that?”  Well, it was after 11pm on an evening in April in Bloomfield, time for the town’s annual flushing of the water hydrants, causing our water to turn an ugly rusty brown.  They do it late at night, when the town is mostly asleep.  Unfortunately for Christina, she took a shower during the middle of it. 

 “What do I do?” she asked, “I just washed my hair in that water!” 

“Nothing you can do right now, just go to bed.  The water will be all right tomorrow”

And I thought about the fact that for many moms in the world, the solution is not that easy.  For many moms, there is no other choice but dirty water.  Not only for bathing and washing our hair, but for drinking too. 

Where we live, clean water is a given. If we’re thirsty, turn on the tap and clean water comes right out. All kinds of drinks are at our fingertips. Truth is -- we're the minority. Right now, 1.1 billion people on the planet don't have access to clean, safe, drinking water. That's one in nine of us. Dirty water causes 80% of all sickness and disease and kills more people every year than all forms of violence, including war.

But what can we do?

In May 2013, Liquid Church had a fund raising campaign for clean water, culminating in a 5K Run/Walk, called the Superhero 5K.  They have sent teams to places like Africa, Haiti, El Salvador where they build clean water wells so that other communities can have clean water like we do.  They plan to build more wells too. 

Although I participated in the 5K, I walked, and certainly I am no super hero!  But you can be a hero to these children by making a donation of $10, $20 or more.  Even though the 5K is over, the need is not gone, so please visit the website to find out more and donate here: LiquidWater.com.  A contribution of the amount of money we would spend on Dunkin Donuts coffee for a week can help bring life-giving water to a child and their family. 

Thank you!

Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’

“Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’

“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’  ~ Matthew 25:34-40

The Good Mom

Encouragement for when children disappoint us

Presented at Mothers of Preshoolers Meeting, April 2013

Today, I am going to share not so much on raising children but on being a mom.  I have raised two daughters, who are now 23 and 25, and have a 6-year-old grandson.  As I prepared for this talk, I considered a goal of MOPS from a prior website post: "MOPS is for mothers with children, newborns through age six, seeking to meet the needs of every mom, who all share a similar desire to be the very best moms they can be! MOPS recognizes that the years from infancy through 1st grade are foundational in a mother-child relationship."  

This was my biggest problem.  I wanted to be “The Good Mom” – the BEST mom I could be because this thing I was doing was so important – foundational – in the lives of the two most precious people in the whole world to me, my sweet darling daughters!  I did not want to mess it up!  I did not want to mess them up!  And the worst part was, I felt unprepared and overwhelmed with everything I needed to know, everything I needed to do, and all the time I needed to do it.

I wanted the list.  I wanted the magic formula.  I wanted the five easy steps with the money-back guarantee on how to be “The Good Mom,” how to raise good, no perfect, children, or my money back.  

I would like to tell you today that I found the list, but truthfully I did not.  Actually I found many, many lists, so many that even my search for parenting knowledge became overwhelming. My goal today is to make this simple because actually having children is a natural thing to do.  Women have been doing it since the beginning of time and with all the failures mothers have made, as well as successes, life continues to go on. My hope today is not merely to give you more advice but the courage and peace for your unique mothering journey.

But people do give us advice, don’t they?   My dad’s advice was particularly memorable because it was simple and he didn’t give a lot of it.  He told me “Barbara, hugs and spankings make good children.”  Ok, that was a different era, so today we would say love and discipline make good children. It sounds instinctive, almost trite. What does that mean really? How do we do that exactly?

Loving our children means caring for their needs, spending time with them, wanting the best for them, and maybe, most importantly, unconditional acceptance.  Our children need to know that no matter what they do, our care and devotion to them is constant and rock solid. No matter how they mess up, they can always come home and we will be welcoming to them.

Disciplining our children means we love them too much to leave them alone to do whatever they want, but instead to train them and teach them our values which we hope will help them succeed in life.  Much has been said about the lack of values in our culture today, but especially as mothers, we do have things we value and want our children to be people of good character.  We want them to be honest and kind.  We want them to work hard and to share.  We want them to be respectful of others and their property and we want them to expect others to be respectful of them.  Just to name a few.  I am sure right now, you are thinking of your own list.

Somehow we need to dance between these two: love and discipline.  We need to love them for who they are, but not with a permissive love that allows bad behavior to go without consequence.  We need to discipline them in a way that helps them to know when and why their behavior is wrong and encourage them to change, but also to be absolutely certain of our unconditional acceptance of them. 

But you know all this already, right?  This is something most of us do instinctively. It’s common sense.  The problem is the actual experience is frustrating, annoying and exhausting!

For example, Johnny has been reminded 20 times to say thank you.  Freddy has been disciplined at the dinner table 50 times to use his fork and not his hands.  Sarah has been told at least 100 times to take her shoes upstairs to her room and not leave them in the middle of the living room.  Amy must have sat on the steps for 500 hours already because she has not yet learned she cannot hit (or bite!) her little sister. You have said it so many times you now want to hurt them when they forget the rule or impulsively act out.  You think they are not listening to you; they are never going to “get it!”

While you are waiting for the love and discipline to work out, it is important to have hope.  We must avoid the trap where in our frustration to correct their behavior, we can jump from discipline to anger and being critical of them personally.  We must hope for what we have not seen yet because the seeds of mothering take so long to flower and bear fruit.

Because one day, Johnny will say thank you to a friend in the school yard and you will hardly be able to stop from fainting.  Freddy will use his fork but maybe you will not notice.  And you won’t trip over Sarah’s shoes because she has put them in her room already and you will have forgotten all about it.  And eventually Amy will stop biting her sister!

So let me encourage you: Don’t lose heart!  Keep disciplining them!  They really do hear you; they really will make that shift in their behavior! 

Keep also loving them and be sure to discipline with love.  Make sure your child knows that while they have made a mistake or done something wrong, that your love for them is absolutely constant.  Draw a sharp distinction between the behavior and who they are themselves. 

Personally, my biggest concern regarding being “The Good Mom” was my own troubled adolescence.  I wanted to save my daughters from the turmoil I felt and the trouble I got into during my high school years.  I was such a good obedient child during my elementary school days but when I reached my final high school years, I went crazy. I made some bad choices and I did some dangerous things. 

One particularly memorable event occurred when I was a senior in high school. One Friday night I went out with a girlfriend.  I wanted to party, so I decided to steal liquor from my dad’s well stocked pantry.  I mixed several kinds into a plastic bottle and off we went to the stadium where all the kids were hanging out (Belleville High circa 1973).  I drank that bottle until I passed out drunk.  Fortunately for me, my friends called an ambulance and I wound up at Clara Maas Hospital having my stomach pumped.  Needless to say, my mom was beside herself.

I’d like to tell you that there were issues at home, or that I had a mental health problem, but it was not like that at all.  It was merely a girls-just-want-to-have-fun episode that got carried away.  I’d also like to tell you that I too was horrified at my behavior and never drank again, but it was not like that at all.  I continued to drink far too often and far too much for years, not really stopping until I was pregnant for the first time at age 31.  It was only when I had teens myself, at age 50, that I truly understood the grief I had caused my poor mom.  It was only then when I told her I was truly sorry. 

This was just one of my several teenage disasters.  As I reflected on my own bad behavior, I desperately wanted my own children to avoid the mistakes I made.  I decided to make some major changes in our family life to be “The Good Mom”:

1.     When my first daughter was born, I took a year leave from my lucrative, exciting and important management position at an international corporation which turned into a resignation within a year.  I stayed home, and then when they began preschool, I worked at a part time job that allowed me to be home when they came home from school.  I built my schedule around theirs to spend the most time with them as possible so that I could pour my love and values into them.

2.     I prayed a lot!  This was a tough job and I needed God’s help. I prayed for my children.  I prayed with my children.  I taught my children to pray as I taught them to talk, starting from “thank you Jesus for my food, amen,” to the nightly bedtime prayer thanking God for the day and acknowledging His protection during the night. That rote “goodnite” prayer that I made up gave them such comfort that eventually they would yawn as I would say it with them.

3.     I took pains to model obedience in my own life by being submissive to my husband and to what my faith taught through the Bible.  My goal was to show my children that even I could not do whatever I wanted.  I too had a higher authority who held me accountable.

4.     When my daughters were in preschool, I chose a church with a close, active community and families with children the same age as mine.  My hope was to build a village around my daughters that had the same values as I did.  And as you see, to this day, my church is active and warm and that is a good thing to have around your children.

5.     I was the one who opened my house to their playmates, hosting play dates, volunteering in their schools, taking on that key job of chauffeur, so that it was my voice and my values that they heard.  In that way, I poured into not only my daughters, but also their friends: loving them and promoting my values to them as well. 

6.     I taught my daughters my values as we did life together.  I always looked for teachable moments, when value lessons naturally coincided with life.  I tried to avoid saying “because I said so” and tried to always explain why something was a good or a bad choice.

All this worked great for a while.  I had sweet, obedient, compliant children.  People would ask me how I disciplined them, but actually, I didn’t have to very much as they got older.  They wanted to do the right thing, and after I warned them once or twice, and explained the what and the why, they generally made good choices.

 Like my dad, the Bible also gave me parenting advice: Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. (Proverbs 22:6 NKJ)  This sounded like a promise!  And it was from the Bible too, so it had to be true, right? So between all that I was doing myself and the church village I built around my family, I thought I had discovered the “secret formula” to being “The Good Mom.” 

Maybe you can see already how idealistic this sounded now, but at the time, it was all working for me.  Then the inevitable happened, my daughters reached high school and that funny thing happened to their brains.

It was like a switch that turned off and suddenly I was done with that portion of my mothering journey.  During the toddler, preschool and elementary school phases of their lives, not only did they love me, but I was always right.  I was the unquestioned authority.  My daughters had total confidence in whatever I told them. During the next segment of my mothering journey, I could not discipline them in the same way, because suddenly they had become self-aware and self-directional. It happens differently and at unique times with each child and most importantly it is unexpected.  But it happened and the window of opportunity for me had closed.  After that time in their development, everything I said and believed became just another person’s opinion. 

I don’t tell you this to scare you as much as to encourage you to make the most of the current opportunity you have with them now, because it does not last forever.    

I still can recall when this developmental shift happened for me when I was a teen.  I remember the whole scene, I was sitting on my brother’s bed and the sun was shining bright through the window and suddenly I realized I did not have to do what my mom said, I could do what I wanted.  And I didn’t need to tell her about it either.  It was a euphoric feeling.

Not so much when it happened the other way around.  When I realized my daughters had come to that conclusion and their futures were out of my hands, I was devastated.   I had told them everything they were going to hear with their childhood ears, and now, everything I said was just another opinion of an older, out-of-touch adult. I would never have the influence on their lives I once enjoyed.

When they began to do things I did not approve of and that flew in the face of the values that I had so painstakingly taught them, not only was I worried for them, but I questioned myself.  I thought I was the Good Mom?  What happened?

What happened to the promise -- Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it?? But wait, the Bible also says: The heart is deceitful above all things, and it is exceedingly perverse and corrupt and severely, mortally sick! (Jeremiah 17:9 AMP) and also “There is none righteous, no, not one; There is none who understands.” (Romans 3:10-11 quoting several Old Testament verses).  

What happened for me was that my measurement of whether or not I was “The Good Mom” was tied into how my children were performing.   But that is a trap because they are human and flawed. They will never be perfectly good.  And to make it even more complicated, we are flawed too.

We all have dreams and desires for our children, goals we want them to attain, and we sacrifice and prepare for those goals.  We think our child will graduate high school, go to college, get a good job, get married, and have children.  We never think OUR child will be the one in undergraduate college for 6 years, or out of work for 4 years, or in rehab, in jail, in the army overseas, or in the hospital.  But it happens.  It happens even when your desire is to be the very best mom you can be. 

But you don’t have to have a teen to feel this disappointment.  Children, no matter what the age, can disappoint us.  We don’t like to talk about this, or even think about it, but it happens.  We can be disappointed because our child is not as pretty, smart, athletic, creative, slim, compliant, as we hoped they would be.  Maybe they don’t disappoint us because they are wrong, but just different from what we wanted or hoped.   Maybe we are expecting them to be too mature too soon.   Sometimes our issues with our children are more about us than about them.

As mothers, we sacrifice and try so hard because of love.  But individual results may vary.  Mothering is not like baking a Betty Crocker cake.  Blend mix with 3 eggs, 1 cup of water and a 1/3 cup of oil, bake at 350 for 30 minutes and out pops the perfect cake.  Mothering is more complicated than that, so let’s be gentle on ourselves.  It is not merely nurture.  It is also nature, and the culture, and health factors, and economic factors, all of which are out of our control.     

So along with the advice of my dad: love and disciple make good children, I have added another one:  hope and forgiveness makes happy moms.  Because the scripture is still true: So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up. (Galatians 6:9 NLT)

We need to have hope that all that we pour into them and the sacrifices we make, are worth it.  That they are better off because of what we do. And even though I could not help my daughters avoid all the pitfalls of adolescence, in the end we managed to survive.  

We must forgive our children when they make mistakes, when they hurt us and when they disappoint the dreams we have for them.  Maybe that sounds unusual, forgiving your child.  Usually we think in terms of forgiving people like our husbands, our friends, our sisters or brothers.  But our children also wound us, and if we don’t actively forgive them, let them off the hook, and affirm our love for them, it not only wounds them, but it ultimately wounds us too.  Unforgiveness is like a mixing a poison but drinking it ourselves.

Because our children will disappoint us.  They will make wrong choices.  Not that I want to tell you that’s ok.  It is certainly not ok. To circle back to my teenage drinking story, what I did was not ok.  It was wrong: illegal actually because I was underage and drinking in a public place.  It was dangerous: I could have died of alcohol poisoning.  It is not ok, but wrong choices are inevitable! We all made mistakes and wrong choices in our lives.  But after it is over, our children need to know that we still love them. 

When my daughter was a teen, there was one particularly memorable occasion when she was going to deliver news about the consequences of one of her own bad choices.  I’ll never forget that day either.  It was evening and I was sitting on my bed watching her brush her hair in the mirror.  She opened with “Mom, do you love me?” before she gave me the difficult news.

Looking back in retrospect I see that was the real question.  Did I still love her although I was going to find out she was not the perfect child I had hoped she would be?

I greatly regret to tell you my reaction was not to reassure her of my love, support and forgiveness.  Instead I freaked out and self-centeredly, I made it more about me than about her.  I beg you: do not to make that same mistake with your children.     

Do not confuse forgiveness with trust.  Trust that is broken must be earned again by right actions over a period of time. Wrong behavior demands consequences.  Privileges must be deserved. But forgiveness must be unconditional, especially with our children.   

When our children make bad choices or even merely disappoint us, our reaction is crucial.  We have a choice: we can move towards accepting them and loving them anyway and continue to have hope for their future.  Or we can believe the worst and become angry and bitter.  I have wallowed in anger and bitterness at my children for their mistakes and I can tell you from personal experience, it was like poison.  It poisoned my relationship with my daughters and sabotaged my own peace.  I learned the hard way that forgiveness is the better choice.

I have also discovered that after some segments of my mothering journey were complete, I looked back and wished I had done things differently.  Forgiveness is also for me.  It is important to forgive myself as well.

Selfishly, I have decided that hope and forgiveness makes me a happy mom.  And a happy mom is a better mom than an angry bitter mom.

In the end, one gift of parenting is grandchildren and I have had the joy of watching my older daughter mother my grandson Giovanni.  You see, we learn to mother during the process when we were mothered ourselves.  And when we mother, all of that comes back out of our heart when we give back to our children.  So in effect, I am watching my daughter pour out to my grandson all the love and discipline I gave to her.  A mother’s love and discipline is like passing a baton from one generation to the next.  As we were loved, so we love our children, and our children love their children.  Not perfectly.  But good enough.

Which is why I want to leave you with this final thought:  Because we mother out of who we are inside, it is urgent to do all we can to heal our own old hurts.  Hurt people hurt people, and so we must attend to the matters of our own hearts.  How do we know this is an issue? 

If there are times when you get disproportionately angry, sad, anxious, or hurt by the run-of-the-mill bumps and bruises of life, then that is a good sign there are bigger issues in your heart and maybe in your past you need to address in order to be healthy when you mother.  If you find it is difficult to forgive your children and have hope for their future, this is another sign that you may need help.

When we take the time to heal ourselves, via counseling or other measures, then we will be healthier and our children will be healthier.  When we do not take the time to heal ourselves, we run the risk of allowing our hurts to wound our children. Instead of passing a baton of love, we pass a baton of wounded-ness.  But you can be the one who says, it stops in this generation by getting the help you need today.

So to summarize:

• love and disciple makes good children
• hope and forgiveness makes happy moms
• and finally make the most of the opportunity you have with your children now, because it does not last forever.     

a woman and her food

The woman was convinced. She saw that the tree was beautiful and its fruit looked delicious, and she wanted the wisdom it would give her. So she took some of the fruit and ate it. Then she gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it, too.

This sounds like a story of a woman who was shopping at Whole Foods, doesn't it? But no, it's from Genesis 3:6. Isn't it fascinating that the first sin of man is a woman seduced by the serpent in the area of what she is eating and feeding her family?

As a woman who feels one of my primary functions is feeding my family, I am appalled when I consider this was the first sin.  It was a woman and her food.  And here we are so many years later, and this is the thing I am struggling with.  Food.

Many women these days are chronic dieters.  I am not. But last spring I did a study group called Made to Crave and lost 10 pounds. This winter, all ten of them found me again.  Sigh.  But the study did teach me something very important.

It is not about the diet.  It is about repentance.

Because there will always be temptation.  Specifically with food.  See the photo of the goodies that tend to magically appear in our break-room at work?  I can't always avoid the temptation.  It seems to follow me around!!

I need to see it for what it is, not something beautiful, good and to be desired, but something that is dangerous and can hurt me if I am not careful.  Not that I can never eat anything sweet again, but the fact is, my mom is now struggling with type-2 diabetes.  It will happen to me too, if I do not take steps to be more careful today.


 Later on, Genesis 4:7 tells of God saying: "Watch out! Sin is crouching at the door, eager to control you. But you must subdue it and be its master."  That's it, I can feel it too, sin crouching at my door, ready to pounce, if I open it a crack and let it in.

It is all about where my faith lies.  Do I believe that I know what is best in my life?  Do I believe I can tell what I can handle and what I cannot?  That's what Eve thought.  She was dead wrong.

Father, there are so many desires, so many voices.  Help me to to listen to Yours above all.  Help me to flee temptation, and when I cannot, when it sits and stares me in the face in the office break-room, help me to stand strong and be its master!

Easter Hunt

Having an Easter egg hunt this year?  Over 2000 years ago, Salome was a having a different kind of hunt…

Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so they could embalm him. Very early on Sunday morning, as the sun rose, they went to the tomb…

There they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed all in white. They were completely taken aback, astonished. He said,…“I know you’re looking for Jesus the Nazarene, the One they nailed on the cross. He’s been raised up; He’s here no longer. You can see for yourselves that the place is empty.” ~ Mark 16

Are you looking for God? That’s what Mary, Mary and Salome were doing.  They were expecting to find a dead body and instead they found an angel announcing the best news ever: their dear teacher and friend, Jesus, the one whom they witnessed His gruesome death, was alive! 

The empty tomb meant that Jesus was who He said He was: the Messiah, God as well man, the Lord who forgave sins and saves the lost.

And that is the point.  We search for God, but He is already here among us, already alive and waiting for us to turn to Him, return to Him.  He is looking for us and wants to bring us home!

Then Jesus told them a picture-story, saying, “What if one of you had one hundred sheep and you lost one of them? Would you not leave the ninety-nine in the country and go back and look for the one which was lost until you find it?  When you find it, you are happy as you carry it back on your shoulders.  Then you would go to your house and call your friends and neighbors. You would say to them, ‘Be happy with me because I have found my sheep that was lost.’  I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven because of one sinner who is sorry for his sins and turns from them, than for ninety-nine people right with God who do not have sins to be sorry for.” ~ Luke 15

 

God is not waiting for us to find Him. He is actively searching for us!  God is not searching for perfect people, “churchy” religious types. He is looking for people who know they fall short, of even their own values and feel lost.  God is looking for people who maybe look great on the outside, you know: Facebook-perfect people, but inside they are embarrassed by their own shortcomings. 

God is looking for you this Easter.  Give Him and the angels something to celebrate and come home.  He is waiting and listening to you.  He is only a prayer away. 


Read the complete story written by Jesus' dear friend John here.

Dare I Dream a God-Sized Dream?

What would I ask God for in my life if I dared to ask a for a God-sized dream?

I am old enough to hate those questions.  I have pursued my dreams down long dark alleys and decided that sometimes, God has something better than your dream.  Sometimes that is a turn down Humility Lane.  Maybe you know that place?  Where you never get the phone call about the brochures you painstakingly designed and mailed out. Where the boss calls you in the office for bad news. Where your daughter asks "mom, do you love me?" and delivers a bombshell.  Where your husband never decides to change his job with the world's worst schedule. Where you receive that email that says your dream job is on hold.  Where you receive the letter informing you that you are not the successful candidate.  Where the new neighbor say she was hurt because you have ignored her time and time again when she has said hello to you.

Ouch.

Humility Lane is a hurting hateful place.  You never want to end up there.  You never plan to visit.  You keep glancing at your watch to see if it is time to move on yet.  And yet, as I have learned to embrace that grueling stroll down Humility Lane because it turned out to be the Lord's best beauty treatment.  Certainly not on the outside of me!  It adds wrinkles and gray hairs.  But on the inside, where it counts.

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.  For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.  So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing. ~ James 1:3-4

I am so grateful for Humility Lane!  I am appalled at how ugly I was before I took these paths.  God has worked in mighty ways to perfect me through these times! (Not that I am perfect--oh no!  But certainly so much better!)  I would not trade them for anything, ANYTHING!  During these times, it seemed at first to me, I asked for a loaf of bread and He gave me a stone.  In the end I realize He gave me a feast!

And yet, I still have these dreams, I do!  I want to return to church work.  There, I've said it!  I want more opportunities to talk about Jesus.  And that's why it has been a great week for me.  I've had that opportunity with several people in several ways.  I love to share it in this way most of all, writing about how Jesus is changing my life, day by day.I love doing Bible study in my home with the special women of Liquid Church.  I loved the impromptu conversations I had with others during the week. I loved writing the MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) talk that I will share in April.   I want more.

Part of the problem is, I lack the massive faith needed to pray this prayer again. I have been disappointed.  And then disappointed again.  But Jesus you honored the father who prayed, "I believe, help my unbelief!" and healed his son.  Beloved, I want to serve You in greater ways.  Open the door for effective ministry.  I believe You want to do that for me.  And yet, there is this distrust, this unbelief lurking in my heart.  Truly through, it is not just You I distrust but my own heart, my ambitious, self-righteous heart.  I lack faith and mistrust my own motives.

So take my prayer and continue to filter it through Your perfect wisdom and love for me.  And help my unbelief.

I love You no matter what, and will follow You where-ever You lead me.  But I want this: an open door for effective ministry.  Please, Beloved, open the door for me.

So they brought the boy. But when the evil spirit saw Jesus, it threw the child into a violent convulsion, and he fell to the ground, writhing and foaming at the mouth.

“How long has this been happening?” Jesus asked the boy’s father.

He replied, “Since he was a little boy. The spirit often throws him into the fire or into water, trying to kill him. Have mercy on us and help us, if you can.”

“What do you mean, ‘If I can’?” Jesus asked. “Anything is possible if a person believes.”

The father instantly cried out, “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”

When Jesus saw that the crowd of onlookers was growing, he rebuked the evil spirit. “Listen, you spirit that makes this boy unable to hear and speak,” he said. “I command you to come out of this child and never enter him again!”

Then the spirit screamed and threw the boy into another violent convulsion and left him. The boy appeared to be dead. A murmur ran through the crowd as people said, “He’s dead.” But Jesus took him by the hand and helped him to his feet, and he stood up. ~ Mark 9 20-27

And yet, I know that at this outpost where I am, I am reaching people who would never visit the church.  I know You have placed me here because You love them.  Help me not to selfishly seek what would please me but embrace the road You have bid me to travel.  Not my will, but Yours.  Make me not what I long to be, but make me into the woman who You want me to be.

an alabaster jar

A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.  ~ Luke 7:37-38



I was sitting in my room brushing my hair when I heard her open the door gently.

"Hey, where were you last night?" she asked.  "I could not find you in all of the usual places.”

“I was around,” I offered, I was still brushing, not looking up at her.

“And when I looked in your room, it was dark and you were sleeping already.  It was early.”

“Yes, I felt asleep early.  Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

“So then, you didn’t work last night.”  I finally looked at her.  Her hands on her hips, a worried look passed over her face, and then it was gone into a sneer.  “What on earth has gotten into you lately?”

“Maybe nothing on earth,” I said, mostly to myself.

“No really,” she sat next to me to look me in the eye.  I tried to keep my face blank, the traditional blank stare of women with my profession.  “What is going on?  Ever since you ran into that rabbi,” she said it as if to curse, “what is his name? Jesus? You have been moping around.  Get over it.”

“Yes, it has changed me,” I confessed, looking out of the window, remembering the day. “He was teaching in the crowds, I didn’t mean to stop because it was mid-day. But His voice was so compelling, and what He said was so amazing.”

“Ha! What worthwhile thing could ever come out of the mouth of a rabbi?”

“But it was more than that!  He saw me in the crowd and started moving towards me, looking right at me.”

“See, I told you men are all the same! Even rabbis!” she spit out.

“No, no, He was not like that!  He did not look at me with disgust or lust, as men usually do.  He wanted nothing from me, I could tell that immediately.  It was like He had a gift He was longing to give to me, and wanted nothing from me in return! He came closer and closer and then you would never believe what He did!” I could tell my eyes were growing larger and I could feel the blush creep across my face.

“What did He do?” Unwillingly, she had become caught up in the story.

“He came right up to me and put His hand on my arm, and looked straight into my eyes when He was concluding a part of His teaching.  He said, ‘Love your enemies, do good to them… Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.’”  I turned and looked right at her.  “Do you understand what He meant?”

She looked dumbfounded and shook her head.  “You mean the rabbi touched you? How can that be?  He must have known what you are.”

“Yes, of course He knew exactly what I am, and yet, He touched me!” I looked back out the window again, shaking my head at the wonder of it all.  “He touched me like He didn’t care that He would be defiled by touching me.  He touched me like He could make me clean.  Imagine that.  Me clean.”

She laughed.

“No, but what He said, He said God is kind to the wicked.  Wicked.  That would be me.”

She laughed again.  “Yes, that would be you.  But what does that have to do with last night?”

I sighed.  This was the hard part to explain.  “I want to be that.  Clean.  I want to be clean.”  I pinned my hair on top of my head, wrapping my scarf around me.

She pointed her finger at me.  “You will never be clean.  I know.  I’ve seen.  I’ve lived it too.  We will never be clean.  We will never be anything else than what we are.  There is no turning back from what we are.”

I shook my head.  “I can’t believe that. I won’t believe that.” Looking round, I found it.  I pulled out the alabaster jar of perfume, tool of my trade, and placed it in my bag and stood up.

“Where are you going? It’s too early to start.”

“I am not starting.  I am finished.  I have a dinner party to go to.” I walked to the door and looked back at her.  “If you had been there, if you had seen Him, if He had touched you, then you would understand.”  She sat there and shook her head as I walked out the door into the early evening twilight.

Hours later, I returned.  My eyes were still red from my tears.  My alabaster jar was empty, poured out.  My hair was pinned up again, but not nearly as neatly as when I left.  But I was smiling. I could not stop smiling. I saw her as I was coming in. She was applying the last touches of make up on her face, getting ready for the night.

She looked up at me.  “I heard,” she said.  “You have really lost your mind. Simon the Pharisee’s house?  I can’t believe they did not beat you.” She put down her make up and followed me into my room.  “Why?  Why did you do it?”

“I had to thank Him.”  I found a bag and picked through my clothes.  “You know what He said to me?”  I looked at her.  “He said, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’” I put some of the more modest items in the bag and made a pile of the others.

“He said what?”

“He said, ‘Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.’” I pulled out my jewelry and make up and put it on top of the pile.  “He said that.  To me.”

She shook her head.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  Men don’t forgive us.  They use us, they pay us, and sometimes they beat us. In the streets, they ignore us. They never forgive us.”

“This was no ordinary man.  They say, and I believe, He is Messiah.”

“Messiah would never forgive you!  He would condemn you!”

“That was what I thought.  But I was wrong.  Look, I am leaving.  His party has other women in it. I am going to join it, if they will have me. Here, take my things.”  I gestured to the pile of fancy clothing, jewels and make up that I was leaving behind.

She saw I was serious.  “No, these are all your best!”

“No, take them, I have no need for them now.” I turned and took both her arms and held them tight. “Better, leave them and come with me!  He forgave me, He will forgive you too!  Come, and we can both be clean!”

For a moment she looked at me and there was a glimmer in her eyes, hope beyond hope, but then it clouded over and she shook me off.  “You are crazy. Crazy!” Her voice rose. I took my bag and walked towards the door as it reached a shrill pitch.  “He will not keep you! The others will not allow you to come with them!  You are dirty, defiled, you will never be clean! You will be penniless! You will starve! No one will give you anything! You are crazy!”

I looked at her from the doorway.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.  But no matter what happens, I am clean now, and I cannot, I will not go back.  I trust Him.  In life or in death.  I trust Him.” 

I heard her screaming as I walked away.  But I kept repeating His words. My faith had saved me.  And I went.  In peace.

Making the Requests Known

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. ~ Phil 4:6-7

Requests.  I really have not been thinking of prayer in that way.  In the Amplified Bible, the word is translated wants, in the New Living Translation it is needs.  

When I talk with friends, and I talk about my wants, dreams, desires, needs, I understand they cannot help me get them.  I am just expressing my heart, we are being knitted closer together by sharing in words what is happening in my head.  Expressing these concerns to my friend is all about intimacy. It is not about getting what I want, because most of the time, they are not able to help me, even if they want to.

But to go to my boss and talk about getting a raise, that would be a totally different thing.  Then it is not about revealing who I am, but expectant anticipation: will he or won't he give me what I want?   Will how I ask, when I ask, what I ask, interfere with what he will do for me and treat me going forward?  I may not ask at all for fear that asking, or asking in the wrong way, at the wrong time, may get the exact opposite result that I want.   My thought is: how can I manipulate the situation to get what I want?

God is neither of these two things.  And yet He is both these things.  God wants us to share our hearts with Him.  He wants us to present our cares to Him because He cares for us. He wants the intimacy of knowing what we want, what we need, what we desire.  He loves us, knows our hearts, wants the best for us so these things are safe to ask, to present to Him.  I know this about God and I want to trust Him.

But God also has the power to give us these things we ask.  And this is where I get stuck.  This is where I want to treat God like my boss.  It is not enough to just ask.  I want to ask in the right way so that I get what I want. And if I don't think I am going to get what I want, I do not ask at all.  Or I ask for something less than I want, so I can at least get the lessor thing.  I can't bear to hear His no, so I ask for what I think He will actually give me.  Or I pretend I don't want it.  I manipulate the relationship, I try to manipulate God.  I am not being totally honest with Him, or with myself.

I do not want to reveal my heart to God, because to do so, to state it, to put it out there, would risk the relationship.  To hear God's "no" would ruin me, would create dreaded conflict in the relationship.  And I could not bear that.  So I try to figure out what God will say before I ask Him instead of actually asking Him.  If I think He will say no, I ask for something else, pretend I don't want it, and so on.

I am afraid to be totally honest with God or with myself.  I am not trusting Him.  I am hiding from Him.

I am just beginning to see this, and why this is not good.

Father, I want to trust You.  I know You are trustworthy in my head, but my heart is desperately afraid to reveal myself, to be honest with myself and to be honest with You.

Prayer is not merely about getting what I want.  That would be like I am the boss, ordering You around!  That is like treating You like Genie Jesus, just rub my Bible and You come out to grant me three wishes.

Prayer is about presenting my wants, concerns, desires and even my fears to You, trusting You love me, know what is best, and that ultimately will do the best for me.  It is about humbling myself and saying I need You.  It is about trusting You with the truth that it is in my heart.  Help me to see that and do that with You.

Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. ~ 1 Peter 5:6-7

Unspeakable Joy!

As a backdrop to the birth of Christ, there was a woman, His cousin, named Elizabeth. Finally her prayer has been answered.

After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion. "The Lord has done this for me," she said. "In these days He has shown His favor and taken away my disgrace among the people."  -- Luke 1:24-25

Unspeakable joy!  The Lord blessed Elizabeth with a child in her old age. For many years she was unable to conceive, a heart-ache today, but an utter failure and disgrace in Elizabeth's time.

But Elizabeth hid herself for five months.  Why?  Was it the custom of the day?  Was she afraid her joy would show before she could bear to speak of it?  Before it was safe?  What if she miscarried?  Today, being pregnant, our assumption is there will be a healthy child born.  No so in Elizabeth's day.

But he was, her baby, healthy, strong and many would rejoice in his birth, especially Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah.  Baby John was an answer to prayer and to the prophesy, as soon she would discover when she met her cousin Mary.  It was too wonderful to be true!  But there it was.

Likewise is Christmas.  God Himself leaving heaven to come and rescue us.  Not because we are good and deserving.  No, we are all on the "naughty list!"  Jesus did not come because we were good little girls or boys, but because He is good and loved us.

But yes, unspeakable joy, it is true.  He came for us, Jesus as a baby, born to a poor woman, hiding Himself in plain sight for 30 years.  In the end, as John was, the truth became manifest.  Jesus is the answer to prayer and to prophesy.

Jesus is our unspeakable joy!

"Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John. He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord." -- Luke 1:13-15

First Thought Wrong

This is how Jesus the Messiah was born. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. But before the marriage took place, while she was still a virgin, she became pregnant through the power of the Holy Spirit. Joseph, her fiancé, was a good man and did not want to disgrace her publicly, so he decided to break the engagement quietly.

As he considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream. “Joseph, son of David,” the angel said, “do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. For the child within her was conceived by the Holy Spirit. And she will have a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”  ~ Matthew 1:18-21

I first heard this term, first thought wrong, in Philip Yancey's book, What Good Is God?  In his chapter entitled Why I Wish I Was an Alcoholic, Philip talks about an alcoholic in recovery who figures out that most first thoughts and impulses he has were wrong..."I need a drink---No you don't you know where that leads." Recovery for him was finding friends who taught him to have better second thoughts, and for him to stop to choose these better second thoughts.

That struck a chord with me.  How often my first thoughts are wrong!  Here I found in reading the Christmas story, that even for Joseph, his first thought, although it was one filled with mercy and integrity, was wrong.  It wasn't what God wanted.  God had a bigger thought.  A far better thought. Joseph "considered this" and the Lord was faithful to speak to him in a dream.

How often I want to think I have "arrived."  I have learned better and can go with my impulses, my first thoughts.  But no, over and over again I find my first thoughts are still wrong.  Even if they are not wrong, how much better to stop and consider and pray to God to ask if He has a better, bigger thought.  Yancey points out that alcoholics have a step up on us because they understand they are only one drink away from falling.  So they know they must be diligent, stay close to God and to their community, where they find continued mercy for failures and strength to carry on.  And tough love when they need it.

I need this too.  I need to take every thought captive, every time. I need stop and ask God for a second thought, a better thought.  His thoughts, that are always greater than my thoughts.

Father help me never think of myself "too recovered" to consider my first thought is wrong!

We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. ~ 2 Corinthians 10:5    

A Shelter in the Storm

Hurricane Sandy blew through our state and our town, leaving in its wake downed trees and power lines, coastal flooding.  Everyone has a story.  Let me tell you mine.

Monday night, we are sitting at the kitchen table, having dessert, when Debbie looks out the window and says, "What is that light outside?"

We rush to the front windows, and see there at the end of our driveway, at the bottom of a big old tree, a downed power line has fallen and burst into flames by the leaves in the gutter.  Christina, phone in hand, calls 911, Giovanni starts to cry, and basically we all start screaming like middle school girls.  All except for Al who is totally calm.  "Mom, what do we do?" We scamper around putting on shoes and jackets, looking down the street for the fire department as minutes tick by and the fire continues.  Our good Samaritan neighbor comes out with a fire extinguisher twice to douse the fire, which helps for a moment, but the electric wire connecting with the wet leaves starts the fire again.  Twenty minutes, 30 minutes, it is still burning!  We consider hopping out a first floor window. We were terrified the fire would spread to our house!

Finally, the fire goes out from the wire blowing in the breeze and that's when the firemen come down the street on foot with flash lights,  rope off the area with yellow tape, and go back up the street where they came.

About an hour later, the wire blows from the wind and the fire starts again, this time blowing sparks towards our house and cars.  We call 911 again, but this time, no one comes. Instead, after about ten minutes of white-hot light, flames, and wind swept embers, the wind blows the wire into a safer position, and the fire stops. A while later, the electric goes out and we all find a place to sleep, with one eye open, waiting for the fire to start again.

In the morning light, we find that several trees and large branches had fallen across our street preventing the fire trucks from getting to us.  During the day, the crews came in to cut up the trees and then fix our power.  So, here in Bloomfield, life is good. Our electric and cable is on, we only had leaves and branches in our yard, and our house did not catch on fire. At the beach, maybe not so much. 

Here is a photo about two miles from our beach house. See the large white building sitting on the beach front? We still call it "the Thunderbird" and we often walk to it on the beach. See how half of the community is underwater? See some of the houses seem to have gone up in smoke? 

I am not looking forward to my next trip to the beach. 

As I thought about our beach house this morning, I am remembering the new furniture we bought this year, special photos in our book case, all my bathing suits, shells and trinkets we collected over the years, beach chairs and umbrellas. They may be all washed away.

And yet, it was never the house I treasured. The house was a place to sleep and cook and shower and sweep.  It was loved because it allowed us to be close to a place of unspeakable beauty, a place to feel closer to God, a place to enjoy with family and friends.  God, in His abundant generosity, gave it to us.  In a single storm, it may have been taken away.

God does that.  He gives and He takes away.  And while I was always mindful that our house in the sand was in a dangerous spot, all of our houses are really.  The downed wire in front of our house in Bloomfield could have lit that big old tree and our house up like a candle.  Only by the mercy of God were we spared. 

There is no safe place on this planet.  It may look safe and feel comfortable, but with a strong wind and rising water, any house can be swept away.  We can build to code, we can buy insurance, we can minimize risk factors, but in the end, it is only You, Lord.  Only You can be our shelter and keep us safe. The prophet Joel shares this:

The sun and moon will grow dark,
And the stars will diminish their brightness...
The heavens and earth will shake;
But the Lord will be a shelter for His people,
And the strength of the children of Israel.
“So you shall know that I am the Lord your God..."  ~ Joel 3:15-17

In the end, the storm is a reminder of God's awesome power and His great mercy. In the end, it is a call for us to come home to Him, to His shelter.  It is the only safe place.