Waiting for a Sign

I'm a "rule girl". I try to pretend I'm not, but it's true. No one knows this better than my kids, poor things.

Many of my mom rules I've borrowed from a medley of well-intentioned messages I've read, heard or experienced while watching other moms. As I've wised up a bit (or maybe my kids have just worn me down), one rule in particular strikes a chord even after it's been tested by a teenager, middle-schooler and still remains for my three-year-old: Obey first. Ask questions later.

I think I picked this one up from a parenting class, but if I remember correctly, the reason behind it was that many times our children tend to ask "why" out of defiance instead of truly wanting to know the reason behind the instruction.

But guess what I just discovered? There's much more to it than that!

And guess what else I just learned? "My" rule is stepping on my spiritual toes.

How's that for justice?

I was reading about God inviting Moses to join Him in the deliverance of the children of Israel out of Egypt; God promised Moses a sign.

A sign. We love those, don't we?

When we're waiting on a sign from God, the burden's on Him. We can just bask in the peacefulness of spirituality while we patiently wait. As if speaking to us isn't enough?

Hey, Moses was promised a sign, why not me, right?

Oh read the rest of the story....God said, "This will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain." (Ex. 3:12)

Wait a minute. The sign came after Moses obeyed.

After? That can't be right.

In a commentary about this by Henry Blackaby, he so wisely stated, "God's affirmation that He had sent Moses would come after Moses obeyed, not before. This is most frequently the case in Scripture. Affirmation comes after obedience."

That sounds a bit like "my" rule! It seems so simple when I hand that rule over to my kids. The interesting thing is that once I instituted that rule in my household, I began to see it not only as a way to deter defiance by delaying the question "why". My new "go-to" rule had lots of benefits.

That rule is a safety net. I remind my children that sometimes when I give them instruction, it's for their well being. If they are about to plunge into physical harm, there's no time to ask why. They have to trust that I know what's best for them, and obey immediately. No questions asked.

And in return, I promise them we can discuss it after the fact. The after-the-fact discussions can be valuable learning experiences.

At other times, the instruction may not keep them from immediate danger, but they may not be emotionally or intellectually mature enough to be capable of understanding my rationale.

This is starting to sound familiar...

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. (Is. 55:8)

Oh yes, that's where I've heard it before.

Maybe "my" rule isn't mine after all.

Obedience first isn't easy, but I have a feeling my Abba Father knows what He's doing.

  

Spooky or Shade-Worthy?

"The future is a phantom, seeking to spook you." That phrase was part of this morning's devotional, which focused on having peace amidst an unknown future.

As kids, everyone tells us how bright and wonderful the future is. Remember, "My future's so bright, I gotta wear shades!" Somewhere along the path to adulthood, the future can become....spooky.

Part of the reality of becoming an adult (bills, marriage, family) is good; it shows responsibility, growth and maturity.

But what if, instead of naively being excited about the future (as we did when we were children), we could learn to be freely excited and unburdened about what lies ahead because we know the God of the universe holds us firmly in His grip and longs to do exciting things through us (Jeremiah 29:11)?

Now THAT'S a future I can be excited about!



"Future's So Bright...."

Getting Even

 

 

I wish I was writing about the wonderful, amazing, relaxing vacation pictured here, or even expounding on our world's natural beauty that God has just given us, as a gift, at no charge.

But I'm stinkin' angry. Jesus got angry, right? So it must be okay that I do. I'm the kind of "I-want-to-do-something-to-get-even-angry"!

I'm thinking that's not okay.

So, after venting to my husband, I made myself sit down and dig into The Word. But let me say inside I was kicking and screaming. I mean, I was WRONGED.

And on top of that, I was having such a good day too. (Can you see me pouting?)

My devotional this morning said there should be a "lightness" in my step that others can see; that Jesus' peace should be outwardly obvious to everyone I encounter.

So now I'm also angry that this incident, caused by this person, made the lightness disappear. Peaceful? Right. I blew it already, and it's only noon!

So back to The Word....The first verse I read that seemed applicable was Psalm 37:8, "Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret - it only leads to evil."

Yeah, okay. Just stop being mad, right? That's a tall order. And it really didn't seem fair.

So I decided to break it all down, word for word, and this is what I found.

The first thing the verse said was "Refrain". When I looked it up, it turns out it means a lot more than I thought it meant. "Abstain from an impulse to say or do something." But that's exactly what I want to do! I deserve to at least SAY something to express my displeasure, right? Or at the least, send a well-written e-mail that doesn't actually SAY anything, but the message is loud and clear.

I kept reading...

So we have, "Refrain from anger..." Anger. Yep, I know what that is (and I'm a bit surprised I didn't see my picture next to the definition when I Googled the word). I found anger defined as, "a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong." There it was, "aroused by a wrong". So apparently the fact that I was wronged has no bearing on how I should react. My toes are starting to hurt.

"Refrain from anger and turn from wrath..." Wrath is, "strong, stern or fierce anger; deeply resentful indignation." Wow. That's a perfect way to describe how "the incident" made me feel...fierce and deeply resentful.

Almost done..."Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret..."

So I was left with "fret". I've always considered "fret" as a synonym to "worry". Those words are twins in my book. But apparently there's a lot more to that word than I thought.

I found "fret" defined as, "to torment or annoy; to wear away/consume by gnawing, friction, corrosives; to agitate". Well, that's really what my flesh wanted - to torment and annoy the person who caused "the incident". Nothing would make me happier than to "agitate" the crud out of this person. Or would it?

"...it only leads to evil."

Well, one thing I know, is that I don't want ANY part of that, and I do NOT want to knowingly bring that upon myself.  So, in the interest of self-preservation, I suppose I will stop scheming and planning my super-secret, highly-annoying retaliation plan. And somewhere along the way, I hope my Heavenly Father will look down and be pleased.

Maybe one day, my initial reaction will be to choose peace. Wouldn't it be great if that came automatically?

And get this...my co-worker (who was a witness to "the incident") just stopped by my office door and noticed that I'm smiling again. Maybe people do notice.

Oh, and about the picture of the beautiful view...I simply needed a visual image to remind me of just how peace feels....I suddenly feel the urge to plan our next vacation! 


 

In Due Time

I'm trying really hard to get back on track with my quiet times and Bible studies, and thanks to my daughter's suggestion, I decided to give night time a try. I'm a night owl by nature, so why not?

I picked up my copy of "Jesus Calling" and turned to today's date to read the entry. I didn't really learn what the author intended, I don't think. She talked about how when things don't go as we would like, that we should accept the situation, knowing that God is in control of our circumstances, and we shouldn't let the impact of the world to distract us from our Heavenly Father. Good stuff!

Don't get me wrong, the topic was inspirational and encouraging, as always, but something else caught my attention tonight.

After reading the entry, I looked up one of the verses listed....I Peter 5:6 ~ "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time."

"In due time?" Seriously? Sigh. That's the hardest part for me! I want to be lifted up by Him NOW!!! ...Yes, I'm reverting to my two-year-old self. Why should I have to wait to be lifted up "in due time"?

Here's where it got interesting for me. What if, in this instance, perhaps the timing is up to me instead of God?

I sort of feel self-centered and sac religious for thinking that, much less typing it out on a keyboard.

But as I allowed myself the indulgence of following that train of thought, I learned something...

When I am down and feeling the need for Him to lift me up and I just sit and wait for it, honestly I'm sometimes disappointed. Where is He anyway? Why is He being so quiet?

But when I look beyond my self-pity, and actually make the effort to open His word, He never lets me down. I don't have to search and dig and spend a ton of time looking for just the right verse because He has woven it throughout His word just for times like these.

All I have to do is take that first step, and He's always so very faithful to take my chin in his hand, lift my eyes up and remind me of whose I am.

"...in due time." That doesn't sound so bad anymore.

One Perfect Night

Last night was a perfect night. I wasn’t in Paris or on a beach somewhere gazing at the sunset while holding hands with my husband. I was at home. Just home.

I struggle to explain it; it’s nearly impossible to put into words. It was like a beautiful, simple song…an evening of what were ordinary “notes”, but when strung together made an unforgettable melody. A song so perfect that it still resonates in my heart today, like one of those tunes that you just can’t get out of your head – only this time I don’t want it to leave. Perhaps that’s why I’m working so hard to capture it with words….

My afternoon started when I got off work and picked up my daughter from school. Her smiling face and bouncing steps as she approached the car said it all. She had a great day! My suspicions were confirmed when she hopped into the car and smiled at me. It’s been said she and I share the same smile. I can only hope that my smile brings a fraction of the happiness to others that hers brings to my heart when it makes its appearance (which is quite often). As we exited the carpool line, she informs me that she had a great day, one that was better than usual, and she wasn’t sure exactly why. I told her it was just a gift and let’s not question it, but be thankful for it. She agreed, as she proceeded to tell me all about her loose tooth that seems to be very happy right where it is.

I then continued my usual Monday routine – prep dinner (while drinking a very necessary cup of coffee), pick up the toddler, drive cheer carpool, pick up teenager from a friend’s house and then back home again.  

Teenager and toddler joined me for my workout walk around the lake, and for a 15-year-old boy, my oldest was very chatty. At the start of our talk, nearly everything he said I took the opportunity to interject my motherly “wisdom”, then I felt like God was telling me to be quiet! So I did.

I walked. He talked. And talked. And talked.  He stopped at the playground with the toddler so they could do boy things while I finished my final lap. When I returned, there they were playing and chatting with new friends they made on the playground. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing earth-shattering, but beautiful.

So we were off toward home, and when we got there, my hard-working husband had recently arrived and my neighbor was dropping off my daughter from cheer. As we all converged into the house and made final preparations for dinner, all were busy doing “stuff” but the chatter continued.

Then there was a rare moment where my teenager and I were again alone, but this time in the kitchen. He starts the conversation by telling me how he can’t believe that some parents just don’t care about their kids. I asked him what he meant and that’s all he needed. He proceeded to tell stories about kids who have gotten caught making wrong choices and there were no consequences at home, followed by, “If I ever did anything like that, I wouldn’t have one thing left….these kids are still on their phones, on facebook and hanging out with their friends.” Then he told me about other kids whose parents not only look the other way, but condone, behaviors we have deemed unacceptable. “What are they (parents) thinking?” he asked me.

This time I was silent and simply shook my head, not because I was at a loss for words on the topic, but because I was left speechless that in his own way he was telling me something stuck. He really has been listening – and watching – all these years. And I was filled with thankfulness and awe.

Dinner came and went, and it was time for the “B” team (my hubby and daughter) to clean the kitchen. They chatted and cleaned and then we all left for a quick family walk where some hand-holding and a kiss or two took place. We walked, we talked, we fed ducks (who were more interested in sleeping than eating) and returned home to bathe a very dirty toddler and start our bedtime routine, which includes snuggles with the youngest two. As my daughter and I went through our usual “best” and “worst” happenings of the day, neither of us could come up with any “worsts”….only “bests”. What a perfect ending to a wonderfully ordinary night.

You see, it wasn’t a star-studded night to perhaps anyone but me. It was a rare evening where I felt so very connected to each member of my little “clan” all in the same night. As I lay awake in bed while everyone slept it was so hard to close my eyes. I didn’t want the day to end. There will be more beautiful evenings, but last night’s melody touched this mama’s heart so tenderly that I never want to forget.

Shades of Gray

Gray. Even the name sounds bad...gloomy, dreary, muddled. I've never liked it.

It's in between black and white. Does it really count as a color anyway?

Gray is complicated. Black and white are simple. Clean. You know what you're getting with those colors. But gray is another matter altogether...

When I was younger, I saw everything in black and white, and things were simple. It was either right or wrong. Good or bad. Hero or villain.

But somewhere along the way, I grew up. I began to see specks in what used to be a white canvas. What happened? Who let those specks in, or were they there all along?

I was happy in my world of simplicity. It's safe there.

But about the time I started seeing the specks, I also began to see the flaws in my clear-cut world. Here, I discovered, was legalism and judgement that I never before recognized.

I came to find out that life isn't simple. It isn't black and white. It's not nice and neat. But I also discovered there's beauty there.

Don't get me wrong - I still am not a fan of the color gray, nor am I a lover of the basic colors in the box of crayons. The bright red, yellow, green and blue crayons don't catch my eye. It's the shades in between that are so strikingly beautiful. It's those transition colors when we look up at a beautiful rainbow that are so amazing. They flow from one color to the next, allowing them to connect so that we see a stunning sight.

It's the shades of gray that make life beautiful. It's there where we find mercy, grace, love and acceptance. If we are so brave to step into what seems like muddy waters to reach out to someone in need, we might just find an amazing rainbow at the end of the journey.