40 years of grace

It is impossible to quantify exactly how much grace has been crammed into the last 40 years of life.

2 amazing parents, 3 fabulous sisters

2 sweet parents-in-law, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, 4 brothers-in-law, 1 dear sister-in-law

2 "home churches," where I have been loved, prayed for, encouraged, taught, pointed to Jesus, and found true family from the day I was born to now. 

Friends down the street. Friends I grew up with. Friends from college days until now. Friends whom I lived with. Friends I have studied God's word and prayed with. Friends who have brought refreshment, wisdom, encouragement, correcting perspective, and joy in incalculable ways.

4 m 2 d with Jemima 

4 y 1 mo pregnant (5 precious babies who came into our home, 2 who went to Jesus)

9 y 8 m 5 d of parenting my sweet kids (uncertain number of sticky kisses, snuggles, and smiles that have brightened every day)

12 y 10 m  24 d of marriage to my kind, sacrificial, funny, Christ-seeking Ben

17 y 3 mo working at a church I love, serving with people I enjoy, admire, have learned from and been blessed by, at all 3 campuses

20 birthdays before 9/11, always showered with love, thoughtfulness, and special gifts

20 birthdays since 9/11, even more aware of how much each year is an undeserved gift

35 years since cancer diagnosis, surgery, chemo, and many, many hospital stays and doctor visits. 1 belly scar. 1 fully functioning kidney. Full head of hair. Clean bill of health.

40 full years of heart beating, lungs filling, eyes seeing, ears hearing, scents to savor, fingers that obey the command to move, legs that can stretch and bend and run, a voice, a mind. 

40 years of sunrises, breakfasts, stories, laughter, bruises that heal, water to drink, a whole astounding world to explore.

And all of this doesn't scratch the surface. Because I haven't just lived 40 years. I have been given life. These days didn't just unfold. They were written in a book before one of them came to pass. 

If all those gifts were taken away, I would still be wealthy beyond comprehension, because I was chosen before the creation of the world. Granted forgiveness and salvation at the cost of God's one and only Son. I have been brought into the family of the eternal King of glory. I have read the Book given by the Word that spoke all things into being and holds them together moment by moment. I have a future and inheritance that will not perish, spoil, or fade.

Oh, what grace! 

Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of His glory with great joy, to the only God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen. (Jude 24-25)

The Name: Jemima Faye

Dear Jemima,

Though you are our "grand finale" baby (we think), your name was perhaps the first one settled on by Daddy and me. Way back when we were thinking of what to call our first baby (who was, I felt quite certain, a girl), the name Jemima was our first choice.

Like each of our kids, your first name is special to us because of what it reminds us about God. 

 

In the Bible, the story of Jemima (ESV "Jemimah") begins with the story of Job. Job was a man who believed in God, served God, taught his children about God, treated his family, employees, and the vulnerable in light of God's love, and feared and revered God (Job 1:1, 5, 23:11, etc). And yet, for reasons that he could not fathom, God sent him suffering of the deepest and most painful kinds.

He lost his livelihood, his possessions, his children, and his health. Even his friends thought that such profound and sustained suffering must be a sign that God was judging him. To walk through deep waters amid such accusations and questions was a trial of the soul like few taste. 

But Job had hope like an anchor in his soul.

Though He slay me, yet I will hope in Him (Job 13:15).

For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God (Job 19:25-26).

The real question is, was God trust-worthy?

We get an actual answer to that question in James 5:11:

We count those blessed who endured. You have heard of the endurance of Job and have seen the outcome of the Lord's dealings, that the Lord is full of compassion and is merciful.

Indeed, God was and is always worthy of our trust. After Job's anguish, questioning, and outcries, God vindicates his faith and restores his health and prosperity, "and the LORD gave Job twice as much as he had before" (Job 42:10). 

Not only that, but, in true resurrection-type joy,

the LORD blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning. And he had 14,000 sheep, 6,000 camels, 1,000 yoke of oxen, and 1,000 female donkeys. He had also seven sons and three daughters. And he called the name of the first daughter Jemimah, and the name of the second Keziah, and the name of the third Keren-happuch. And in all land there were no women so beautiful as Job's daughters. And their father gave them an inheritance among their brothers. (Job 42:12-15)

To us, the name Jemima is a reminder of "joy that comes in the morning," of the indestructible hope that belongs to those who trust in God, even when nothing makes sense, and of the way Jesus' victory over sin, death, and the curse is so absolute that even our deepest sorrows and losses may be transformed to joy in Him.

Dear Jemima, when we look at you, we see a little picture of Jesus' resurrection joy. And we pray that you will know that joy in the fullest measure, as you come to trust in Jesus yourself!

Your middle name, like each of our kids, has a special connection to our family.

My mom's name is Patty Rae. Daddy's mom's name is Meredith Kay. And your middle name, Faye, is in honor of both these amazing grandmas. 

Faye means "faith," and faith is the greatest legacy that Grammy and Grandma Kay have given to our family. Like Paul wrote to Timothy, "I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well" (2 Timothy 1:5).

To have two grandmothers who faithfully pray for you, model trust in Jesus, and desire to strengthen you in your own faith and life in Christ is a priceless gift that we thank God for.

And, how fitting that you arrived on Mother's Day, when we remember the sacrifice and investment of these women in the lives of their families.

Grammy shows such gentleness and patience to our family, as a wonderful picture of God's lavish grace and love. She is thoughtful about the specific needs and preferences of each one, and she is an unmatched "giver" of time, care, service, and encouragement. 

 

Grandma Kay is a joyful, whole-hearted lover of God. She prays earnestly, seeks God in His word faithfully, and responds to the leading of the Holy Spirit in specific and faith-filled ways, and she is full of joy to be a "trophy of God's grace." 

 

Jemima, we are blessed beyond measure to have these grandmas in our family, and I know you will be the recipient of unmeasured grace because of their investment in your life.

These are the special thoughts behind your name, and we pray that ultimately, your name will be etched in the Lamb's book of life, as a sign of your belonging wholly to Jesus Christ forever! 

Love you, sweet girl,

Momma

Love by Listening and Learning

If you are like me, you are facing this Monday with a very perspective than last Monday.

COVID-19 has prompted calls for action that I have not previously experienced. We are walking a path we haven't walked before.

That said, here are two ideas that have been growing in my mind for what it looks like to "let all you do be done in love" in the midst of COVID-19.

First, listen to others.

My ideas of what this virus means have been changing. My personal risk (and my family's) is not high. But when I have heard the hearts of those who are in an extremely vulnerable position ... or are caring for those who are, my perspective on what it means to act in love have changed.

It has helped me ask this kind of question: "If I were the one caring for a child on immuno-suppression medication, how much would I want others to act with conservative, protective, proactive care within the community?"

Listening is also a way of caring for others in a season where some people are facing loneliness like never before. Asking for neighbors to reach out if they needed help or prayers has already created connections and shared stories that I didn't have before.

Second, be a learner.

Since much of what we are experiencing is new (new virus, new pandemic experience, new implications being realized each day), have the posture of a learner.

I'm not commending that you race to read all the panic-inducing updates on the spread of the virus.

Rather, listen to counsel. If your medical provider or government officials make a request or recommendation, take it to heart. If you see how your actions could be changed to be more protective of the vulnerable, make a change. Find trusted resources for wise action, and do not look out only for your own interests, but also for the interests of others.

There are some heart-breaking stories of the dramatic and widespread consequences of just a single person failing to heed advice. This is a time for humble hearts. Let's be good learners.

1 Corinthians 16:14 calls us to "let all you do be done in love." May the Lord grant us that grace.

Thoughts on Psalm 121:7-8

Since I inadvertently wrote about the wrong passage for a Fighter Verse blog post, here are some unsolicited thoughts on Psalm 121:7-8. 😏

The Kept and the Keeper

The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.—Psalm 121:7-8

If the psalms are songs, then perhaps we may consider this to be the great crescendo and finale of Psalm 121. And the note that is struck over and over in this finale is the precious note of “keep.”

Remember the first words of this psalm? “I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?” This song of ascents begins with the question of finding our help, but it closes with a rhythmic, repeated refrain of the One whose eyes are ever on us.

Shamar, “keep,” has the idea of guarding, protecting, attending to, watching over. And life in this fallen world holds many perils. What kind of keeping does God grant his own?

The LORD will keep you from all evil. No greater blanket of security could cover us in this world of fallenness, brokenness, and sin than this. “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). There is great evil in the world. But unfortunately, our trouble is not simply external to us. As Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” So this “keeping” promise hints at a most precious deliverance. In perfect faithfulness, God has purposed to deliver us not only from evil schemes of others but to provide a Redeemer who would make a way for eternal joy and deliverance from our own sin.

He will keep your life. We see another hint here at the depth of “keeping” God provides. “Life” is also translated “soul.” Our Keeper is so strong that he guards and attends to the deepest needs of our heart. Are you facing grave adversity? Are you staring down the reality of death and the grave? These verses give an unshakable anchor. The LORD is not too weak to keep our life. Even in deepest darkness, he will keep our soul. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Psalm 23:4). When all around my soul gives way, he then is all my hope and stay (Edward Mote, “The Solid Rock”).

The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore. God’s care is both cosmic and close. Recall from verse 3, he guards each step of your foot. “Even the hairs of your head are all numbered” (Matthew 10:30). You will never go beyond the scope of his keeping gaze. “If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me” (Psalm 139:9-10). His keeping is constant, and his keeping is eternal, “from this time forth and forevermore.”

The security of our keeping depends on the nature of our Keeper. So let’s revel and rest in the truth that the LORD is our keeper (Psalm 121:5), and by his own saving hand, we are kept this moment and forevermore.

Discussion Questions:

·       What do you find the greatest threat to your life or hope? How has God provided a “keeping” grace for you at that very point of need?

·       What is the most precious aspect of “keeping” to you today? How can you praise God for his perfect protection and attentiveness to every need of your heart?

Letter to My Boys

Dear boys,

There are many things in my heart for you that don't make it into everyday conversation. You little cowboys make every day an adventure, and I love it.

The days are also full of needs... The need for patience. The need for a kiss for a skinned knee. For mediation of squabbles over a ball. For reminders that we do not make rude jokes. For 3 meals, 2 snacks, and the supply of countless missing or empty water bottles. Need for naps, feedings, changed diapers, sweet kisses, wiped noses. Need for Bible stories, blessings before bedtime, snuggles under special blankets.

Some needs I can meet (not as many as I might think, though). But woven through all the needs are reminders of how much I am not capable of supplying for you. In fact, all of your deepest and truest needs are outside of the scope of my care. And each day's needs bring a reminder of my own needs. And in turn, they pile up and bear down until I am pressed to a decision: what will I do with all this need?

The inclination is to bear them. To carry and heft all the needs around, getting snippy with those who add an extra need to the pile and layering anxiety, frustration, and anger into the mix of them.

It's an inborn trait, but it is not the right way. God doesn't give us needs so that we will buckle down and work harder. That we will be the martyr, always giving and never filled. That we will cast about for someone to blame for the overwhelming need that seeps into every crack of day and night. All that mound of needs comes with a call to bring them to bigger shoulders, roll them onto the vast, caring hand of One who can do what I never can.

You'll face this place of need too, my sons. Your days will bring their own burdens. Your shoulders will feel their own load. And it is my great prayer for you that as the need grows, you will daily, habitually, constantly, faithfully roll that load into the hands of your tender Savior. I pray that you will move toward need, not in a self-important hero mentality, but with the confidence of one who knows the supreme Need Meeter and is not afraid of sinking His boat with your own desperate needs or those of others.

I pray that God might draw you to moment-by-moment conversation with Him, to know the right word to say in a heated moment, to release what worries you, to find an inner supply of joy that doesn't run dry even when circumstances take a sour turn.

We pray for lost books and missing toys. We pray for the fire trucks and ambulances that pass with sirens. We pray for sweet sleep at night and for help to show kindness to one another. We pray for help to put away grumbling and with God's help to have a cheerful heart.

How I pray that God will take these little prayers and weave them into your heart as fibers of habit and hope that will deepen and multiply as you grow.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:16).

Always in a time of need,
Your momma

Strong and Safe

What jumped out to me this morning:

The LORD is my strength and my shield; in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to Him (Psalm 28:7).

There are a lot of things in life. Many interruptions. Many needs. Many cares. Many nagging concerns. Many dreams and aspirations. Many moments of doubt and confusion. Many demands. Many messes. Many duties. Many responsibilities and calls.

The day is full of reasons to feel weak and attacked.

In the thick of all that, what do I really need?

Not another cup of coffee.
Not a nap (well, not exclusively a nap).
Not a nanny.
Not a housecleaner.
Not a better to do list.
Not a better behavior management system.
Not a raise.
Not a cleaner house.
Not a cookie.
Not a vacation.

When the demands outtap my supply and the enemy presses in, crafty, heartless, and pervasive?

I need a strength beyond my own. I need a resource that will not run dry, a fountain of wisdom where I am foolish, a fountain of love where I am depleted. I need strength of faith and strength of character, strength of arms and strength of hope.

The LORD is my strength.

He spoke the universe into existence. He upholds it with the word of His power. His understanding is inscrutable; His great love overcame the greatness of my sin. He does not faint or grow weary. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might He increases strength. I am weak. I qualify. The LORD is my strength.

I need protection from an enemy I cannot see, cannot thwart, cannot escape alone. I need shelter, a hiding place, safety. I can't even see all the darts, can't distinguish every lie, can't escape the blows. I need a helper who will hide me under His wings.

The LORD is my shield.

If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things? What can separate us from the love of God? Tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, peril, nakedness, sword? No. If He has settled us safe in His arms and declared we will be more than conquerors in the hollow of His hand, then safe we are. The LORD is my shield.

The LORD is my strength and my shield; in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to Him.

'Tis So Sweet

You know the saying, "When it rains, it pours." Yeah, and it's truth too.

Last week, for example.

My back began hurting.
The washer broke.
Our neighbor delivered some horribly sad and troubling news about our friends across the street.
Our kitchen light stopped working.
The dryer vent came unplugged from the wall.
My tongue hurt.
Rebellion and hardness of heart seemed the prevailing attitude of one of our children.
Our youngest son screamed for two and a half hours after being put to bed one night.
My husband and son saw a mouse run across the kitchen floor.
I experienced nights of lying awake for hours, unable to sleep.

This particular list of experiences may not match your own, but I don't doubt you have walked through a similar season of "why is everything going wrong?"

And what does that do to our heart?

If you are like me, the instinctive response is an ugly combination of fear, frustration, anger, questioning, and self-pity. Sometimes bitterness, jealousy of others (who may have had a good day), and unkindness join the mix. To be honest, I can even feel justified in shaking my fist at God or lashing out at the people in closest proximity to me because, well, this is really yucky.

It is not natural to me to stop for a moment and reflect on the purposes of God in it all. But in his remarkable mercy, God has chosen to speak to his people. And in his word, he even gives us some sweet glimpses of his behind-the-scenes purposes when we encounter this colorful kaleidoscope of trouble.

At the bottom of our struggle comes a beautiful promise, a promise told and reiterated throughout the Bible.

For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.--Philippians 1:6

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren.--Romans 8:28-29

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.--James 1:2-4

In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.--1 Peter 1:6-7

For this slight, momentary affliction is preparing for you an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things which are seen, but to the things that are unseen, for the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.---2 Corinthians 4:17-18

It seems that, despite our instinct to trust our senses--our ability to see and make sense of all we encounter--God prizes and purposes to craft within us faith ... an ability to rest in him, hope in him, and trust him when the lights go out.

And while these "pop quizzes" of faith may not be the gift of grace that we would choose given alternate options, with the lens of truth God can help us receive them as a sweet opportunity to grow in trusting Christ.

While Daddy's Gone

We are at Day 13 of 15 for Daddy's trip to Kenya and Ethiopia.

How have we been?

Well, it's been a somewhat eventful time.

There have been some difficult parts.

My first 911 call, during which I almost passed out (non-life-threatening, not for me or any of the kids). Two police cars, one fire truck, one ambulance, one trip to the ER, and a whole slew of medicine. Skin rash for Elliot. Josiah got a cold. My parents both got colds. Two 5-hour drives. Josiah got a fever and threw up. Elliot and Josiah got another cold, and Josiah got a horrible cough. Middle-of-the-night neb treatment. Bad dreams and nighttime fears. Fractured sleep. Temper tantrums and grumblings.

There have also been some very wonderful parts.

Elliot began sleeping through the night. An afternoon away at a coffee shop. Grammy and Grandad's patient, constant help. Cheerful playtimes in the backyard. Time playing with the Iowa cousins. An early birthday celebration for Josiah. Gifts purchased and mostly wrapped for the 5 upcoming family birthdays. Some sweet pictures and stories from Ben's time in Africa, and an occasional Facetime. A deeper, more continual awareness of my need for God's help and mercies, and life-giving times (albeit interrupted) in the Word.

Several times I have felt pressed to the breaking point, and each time I have seen God's kind hand strengthen, sustain, refresh, and help.

How are we doing?

We're doing quite well. We're really, really, really looking forward to having Daddy home again.

And so deeply thankful for the Father who never leaves, never changes, and has given His Son to make us His own, here at home and to the farthest ends of the earth.

Home Sweet Home

Yesterday we bought a house. Our first.

It feels like one of those pillars to remember, of God's kindness and generosity, so much beyond expectation. A tale of God's surprising provision, and the evidence of so much grace in our lives!

We are rounding the bend in Ben's seminary, last semester underway (just one class). What a significant season! I can hardly believe we are nearing the end of this long road of preparation and getting ready to invest all that training in a fuller focus on ministry.

We are loving this little home. But the thing that really makes it sweet is being here with all the promises of God to bank on and the anticipation of His hand behind and before us and resting upon us in all the days to come.

And if you happen to be near Lexington, MN, you should drop on by to see us!

On Turning 35

Today, 10 years ago, was the first Sunday of the new South Site of Bethlehem. What a day, full of joyful, exhausting, exhilarating hard work!

It was the beginning of a long, hard, sweet era of South Sundays (incidentally also the beginning of manning the South Info Booth, whence along came a man named Ben, causing Karin Livingston to probe a few months later, "Amy, does Ben Katterson like you?" ... but that's another story).

Then, it was the day before I turned 25.

Today, it is the day before I turn 35.

And what do I have to say about that? (Asked no one, but I'll share anyway!)

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.--Ephesians 3:20-21

That's a pretty good summary of how I feel. The road that brought me here has been full of so many gifts, so much kindness. Long days, sleepless nights (didn't know much about those before kids!), loneliness, sweet friendship, painful conflict, encouraging conversations, deep loss, precious gifts ... God's provision has been constantly beyond expectation.

 The LORD God is a sun and shield. The LORD bestows favor and honor. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.--Psalm 46:10

I really don't have much to say about why I'm at this blessed place in life. I didn't earn it. I didn't build it. Haven't figured it all out. As for being somebody who "walks uprightly," that's all a crazy gift too. God has covered over my sinful, selfish heart with the blood of His perfect Son, and He has given me a new love for His way. And then on top of it, He's given a boatload of other sweet gifts.

Creative, goofy, hard-working, sacrificial, Jesus-loving husband.
Three bubbly, bright, joyful, energetic, wiggly little boys, and a baby with Jesus.
Seminary life, ministry opportunities, the body of Christ.
Kind, long-lasting friendships and new connections.
Extended family that I love being with.
Mind-stretching work (some of which I am paid for) and lots of satisfying responsibilities.

Praise to the Lord, who o’er all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires e’er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth? 

So today is full of reflections of gratitude. And tomorrow?

Well, tomorrow is held in the hands of the same great Keeper and King, so whatever it holds is yet another gift.

Thank You, Lord.

 Even to your old age I will be the same, and even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; and I will bear you and I will deliver you.--Isaiah 46:4

A P.S. to the Last Post

A few more things really need to be said, regarding that last post.

What this doesn't mean.

It doesn't mean that you should never take a break, because if you're not down to "two pennies' worth of strength" you're not really loving Jesus. There have been more than a few times that I have known, in my conscience, that I would be disobeying a "still, small voice" if I tried to get a few more things done instead of taking a nap.

There are times when doing one more thing is an act of pride, and not an act of love. We are not limitless. We are not the Indispensable One. We are not God.

As His very limited creatures, we reach a place (at least every day, usually!) where we honor God's design by resting, taking a break, letting go of our desire to do all and be all.

There are times when it is not love to do something yourself, when you could share the burden with another. Maybe the sense of being overwhelmed and exhausted is actually an opportunity to teach your children the importance of "pitching in" for the needs of the family or explaining to your spouse an area where you feel over your head so that you can dream up a life-giving way to deal with it together. Maybe it is a season when you need the grace of the Body of Christ to come near, to be vulnerable enough to ask for help from outside of your own home. It is not easy to be at a place of weakness, but very real grace comes when we allow others to be hands and feet of God's love to us.

There are times when it is not good, not wise, not real love to spend yourself to the point of exhaustion over things that are not essential, when it's better to let the mountain of laundry sit for one more day and take those minutes to be still, refresh your heart, and find joy in remembering all that your limitless Savior is for you.

That widow worshiped Jesus by giving her last two pennies. Mary worshiped Jesus by sitting at His feet to listen (and it was Martha who was corrected for missing "the good part.").

Sometimes life gets reaches those swells of need that threaten to swamp the boat. During the storm, I hope that you will be buoyed in your hope by the knowledge that God receives your worship in giving your "last two cents' worth" of strength.

But for most of us, most of the time, we also worship Jesus through stepping back, sharing our load, quieting our heart, taking a break, and resting in the goodness of our great giving God.

Your Last 2 Pennies

And He looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury. And He saw a poor widow putting in two small copper coins. And He said, "Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all of them; for they all out of their surplus put into the offering, but she out of her poverty put in all that she had to live on." Luke 21:1-4

We admire this widow, don't we? To be "caught" (by Jesus) in the act of such sweet, unself-conscious worship of the Almighty God, to so trust in the Faithful Creator that we wouldn't cling to our last two coins but tuck them secretly in the offering plate and leave all our future to His care ... that would be a gracious thing indeed.

When it comes down to our own lives, we may find it a little hard to relate. Sure, money might be tight, but most of us have more than two coins to rub together. But maybe we can glean a lesson from this widow nonetheless.

There are days when you do feel, quite literally, like you are down to your last two pennies' worth of energy. Or patience. Or stamina. Or strength.

Days when the baby cries, the toddler has an accident on the carpet, supper burns, your jeans rip, siblings squabble, and your beloved husband totally misses the cue that you need help. You feel like you're drowning in a sea of need with no lifeboats in sight.

Months--maybe years--when you never sleep through a night uninterrupted.
Not just a pile, but mountain ranges of laundry, unfolded and unsorted.
Dishes from breakfast crowding out the crusts left from lunch where you are trying to make supper.

Mommy, I need to be wiped.
Mommy, I want a cup of juice.
Mommy, I lost my boot at the park.
Mommy, my science project is due tomorrow.
Mommy, please braid my hair.
Mommy, can you give me a ride to the party?
Mommy, the dog just puked.
Mommy, he broke my toy.
Mommy, where is my backpack?
Mommy, I don't like this food.

Days of fog and fatigue that threaten to crush out your last ounce of cheer with the sheer mountain of work that lies around you.

What do you do, when you're down to your last two cents' worth of energy, and one more crisis comes? You want to scream, "Have mercy! Doesn't anyone here care that I haven't showered in a week, haven't eaten breakfast or lunch, can't find matching socks for any member of this family, and have a splitting headache?" You have only one set of hands to meet all the avalanche of need that keeps rolling over you. You've been pressed down, wrung out, and hung to dry, and you feel like you have simply nothing left to give.

Nothing but two tiny pennies' worth of care.

This is the time, sweet friend, when you may offer a gift of immeasurable worth. When you trust that God will somehow see, somehow supply, somehow sustain you after you pour out your last two cents' worth of strength--that is an offering that Jesus sees and receives.

When you give "all that you have to live on," it is there that you find He is watching. He cares, and He counts those two pennies' poured out as very great indeed.

P.S. But read this too... 

Incidentally, I didn't write this because I'm feeling down to my last two pennies. When I showed it to Ben before posting, he said, "Oh, are you feeling overwhelmed?" And I'm not, right now. I've been there. But this has been a sweet season of largely refreshment and peace. 

Parenting Thoughts

A friend asked me today for some thoughts on parenting, what kind of biblical guidelines or principles do we follow. Since I wrote it down, I thought I would share it here. (This is just the tip of the iceberg, what came to mind when I had a few minutes to write...)

One of our biggest parenting "paradigms" is that we are trying to be an early image or reflection to our children of how God is. He is the Father "from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name" (Eph 3:15). And the most important thing that we want to give our children (although it is impossible for us to give it to our children unless God gives it to our children) is a knowledge of, love for, and trust in our beautiful Savior Jesus. 

He is faithful, so we strive to keep our word.

He is kind, so we want to be gracious and gentle.

He is generous, so we love to lavish our kids with good things.

He is awesome and holy and sovereign over all creation, so we must not allow our children to disregard or belittle the authority that God has put over them, namely, us parents.

When God gives commands to His creatures, it is never for insignificant or capricious reasons. It is for our good, for our protection, for our abundant life. In our parenting, we want to reflect the same purposing for good when we give instructions or restrictions. 

And for the same reason--because obeying God is essential for knowing full joy and eternal abundance of life--when our children disobey or disregard our instructions, we find it important to address the failure and, when needed, follow up with discipline. 

God's words are utterly trustworthy. And so it is important that (as much as is humanly possible), our Yes means yes, and our No means no (James 5:12), without games of counting to ten or bluffing with impossible threats of what will happen if a child does not comply.

Parenting is a tremendous responsibility and calling. We do it "as seems best to us" (Heb 12:10), and so frequently we feel (and are) woefully inadequate to perceive and respond rightly to the needs of the young hearts we are striving to shepherd. But what a kind Father we have, who supplies wisdom when we lack it (James 1:5), who set His love on us (1 John 3:1), and who has given the Savior and Mediator that our children need (1 Timothy 2:4-6).

My Best Birthday Gift

Flashback to September. Birthday wishes and kindnesses were very sweet.

But my best birthday gift came two days before my birthday, when (honestly, to my surprise) an efficient technician zoomed in the ultrasound view and detected a precious little heartbeat still fluttering away inside.

* * *

After our miscarriage in June, we were thrilled, elated, delighted, overjoyed, grateful, amazed, and humbled to find ourselves pregnant in August. Again, I suspected right away that something was stirring, but it was a gut-wrenching day-by-day wait, peppered with frequent alarm that the movement had stopped, that I would lose this little one again before we even began to know him.

Finally, a positive pregnancy test. I started feeling gross a week later. And almost three weeks later, an ultrasound, which (somewhat to my dismay) showed that I was not yet even 6 weeks pregnant. But, there was a tiny slow heartbeat, barely detectable.

Both my little boys' pregnancies were survived on Zofran, right up to heading to the hospital. So I waited nervously for the "gross" to turn to "incapacitating" ... but it stayed at just a low-grade gross, according to my earnest prayers for the past many months that God might allow me to come through this pregnancy without such intense sickness.

Day by day slowly passed. (It felt like I spent this whole summer waiting for 6-weeks-pregnant to arrive.) The daily grossness was a reassuring reminder of the reality inside.

And then Tuesday night, in the middle of dinner with company.
Blood.

A flood of memories. Reliving the painful days of June in an instant.

After we said our good-byes to our guest, I just sank into our big blue chair, too drained to move. A call to the ob office.  

Rest tonight, and come in for an ultrasound tomorrow, she said. It may not be another miscarriage.

It was a night-long wrestling match between prayers, fears, threads of hope, and the crushing reality that always, always before, blood means no baby.



I called the office twice at 8:00am, and finally at 8:01am they turned off their answering service and I could at least wait on hold. The nurse couldn't find an opening for an ultrasound and needed to call back after she talked to the techs.

I texted family and the friends who already knew about the baby and waited. An 11:00am ultrasound appointment.

I arrived 10 min early and sat in a full waiting room. Minutes passed, and the room emptied little by little. It was perhaps the longest, hardest, loneliest wait I've had in a doctor's office.

And I dreaded hearing my name called. Dreaded the finality of seeing on the screen a still small body, absent of life.

Psalm 121.
Psalm 34.
Psalm 96.
Isaiah 41:10
Jeremiah 29:11
Fragments of verses and prayers and songs.

I was starting to feel woozy, my half bagel for breakfast too long past. Do you have any crackers? I asked the receptionist. I'm feeling light-headed. 

A few saltines later I felt better and ready to face the next step. Even if today is a sad day, I believe there will be happy days ahead. This is not the end of the story.

11:30am.
11:40am.

"Amy," at last the white-clad technician came for me. She did not smile or make small talk. "So, when did the bleeding start?"

"Last night."

I took a deep breath, looking at the large blank screen facing the reclining table, the screen which would soon reveal ... life or death. 

She didn't speak as she began the scan. I watched the screen, trying to pick out a little dark mass which would be our baby.


There it is. 
So still. 
There should be movement, should be a little flutter there.

My heart sank. So still.
No movement.
No movement.

Then she adjusted her instruments, zoomed in on the little mass. And like a miracle, I thought I saw something move.

She adjusted again. And there, as beautiful a sight as I have ever seen, was a quick, rhythmic flutter.

She measured the little peaks and valleys.
167 beats per minute.

My eyes full of tears, my heart full of gratitude.
167 beats per minute.

 * * *

And that, as I knew with greatest certainty, was all the birthday gift I could ask for.



 

Keeping Quiet

The battle to keep a quiet and content heart is not easy. Circumstances are so powerful an influence, and they constantly remind us that we are in a broken world. Plans are disrupted. Hopes are not fulfilled. Even our sweetest and best days are very short, and letting them go brings its own kind of pain.

Recently read:

"Unbelief puts circumstances between itself and Christ, so as not to see Him...Faith puts Christ between itself and circumstances, so that it cannot see them" (F. B. Meyer, quoted in Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert, p. 70).

"A quiet heart is content with what God gives. It is enough. All is grace. ...

"He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best,
Lovingly its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest" (Elisabeth Elliot, Keep a Quiet Heart, p. 19-20).