Money Jar Repentance

My youngest son, a free-spirited life-loving little imp, can be quite defiant.  It just goes with the package.  And today his rebellion quotient was high.  Everything his mommy asked him to do was merely a suggestion to him.  His final act of disobedience about did me in, b/c on a different day he could have easily been run over by a car as a result of not listening to me.

So he and I had a little talk about it, which resulted in very dramatic, bring the house down tears (this is not unusual for Blake...he does everything full-throttle).  After I calmed him down he left the room and I went on about my business of getting the boys' bath ready.  He reappears several minutes later with his money jar tucked in the crook of his arm, and a crisp one dollar bill in his hand.  His big green eyes are pooling with tears and he says in a very shaky voice, "Mom, this if for you."

Taken aback, I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat and I tell Blake I could never take his money and he should keep it.  He shoves the bill at me again and insists I take it.  My husband who is observing the exchange, thankfully jumps in and tells Blake we should give that dollar to God tomorrow at church.  Long story short, we all agree this is the best and perfect idea.  I hug my little guy tightly and tell him he is one of the sweetest people I know and that I already forgave him earlier, dollar bill or not.

It was a precious moment and what I got to see in it, I will ever treasure.  What I saw in my little boy was a repentant heart.  He was truly grieved for having been disobedient and wanted to give me his only dollar as an outward sign of that.  I was touched by his remorse and touched by his sacrifice (a dollar is a BIG deal to a five year old after all), and I realized he could probably teach me a thing or two about having a truly contrite heart.

My little man has not received Christ yet.  His older brother made that decision at five and I am hopeful Blake will come along soon.  Until then I am prayerful that I will nurture him and guide him toward his Savior.  And in that little glimpse I got of Blake's heart today, I felt like God was whispering in my ear..."the soil of his little heart is fertile and I am preparing it to receive me everyday."

As much as my boys' whining and defiance nerves me, I have to be thankful for the teachable moments that always follow.  Especially when I am the one learning something...   

God's Pleasure

"God made me fast.  And when I run I feel His pleasure."

Eric Liddell, who was portrayed in Chariots of Fire, was a  Scottish athlete/runner in the early 1900's.  He was a strong believer and spent most of his life as a missionary in China.

I love his quote and I've always kind of wondered what is it that I do where I feel God's pleasure.  It's sort of an abstract concept, b/c what is it to really feel His pleasure?  

I'm not completely certain, but I think in the past few months (purely by default) I uncovered my "thing"...my equivalent to Eric Liddell's running....  And I think I know what he was talking about.

I've have some health issues that I am so sick of talking about I won't even go into them right now.  But they forced me to slow down and actually literally sit down more than I was accustomed to.  In the process of those physical limitations I rediscovered my love of writing---honestly because it was one of the only things I could do.  Writing was something I always did as a kid; and as a young woman, I used to constantly journal.  But in the busyness of life...raising kids, keeping a home, working...I let that hobby slowly but surely drift out of my life.   

In writing again, I found that immediately a light went on within me and I, for lack of a better description, felt plugged into God.  It was a time I could have easily drifted into depression b/c of my health issues, but instead I felt alive in a new very real way.  Even if I was doing creative writing that wasn't necessarily spiritual in content, I felt that connection to Him.  It dawned on me that what I experiencing was likely what Eric Liddell meant about feeling God's pleasure.

I have found that anytime I use my creativity in any way...writing, creating, singing, listening to music, even decopaging; that connection is there.  I've decided that for me, channeling my creativity is vital to me experiencing God.  I believe that is how He wired me when He knit me together in my mother's womb (Pslam 139:13).  And I think we've all been wired in different and special ways...and perhaps if we can tap into to that, we can feel God's pleasure.

My husband has been wired to teach.  My friend Lindsay's "thing" is singing.  And my friend Clay, who just spent hours helping me with my computer in ways I will never understand, likely feels God's pleasure when using his mind in a technical, high IQ kind of way...  Certainly, the list could go on and on.

I love that the God of the Universe finds pleasure and takes delight in His creation (Psalm 149:9).  I love that we are all unique and have minds that think, process and see life in certain ways...  I am thankful for how He made me (Psalm 139:14) and that in His love for me He makes it possible for me to sense His satisfaction.

God filled my mind with words.   And when I write, I feel His pleasure... 

If only I Had Eyes to See

I'm reading a book by Ken Gire (by far my favorite author on the planet...speaks to my heart and mind like no one else) and something he said got me thinking...  He was talking about the events of Christ's birth and among many aspects of it that the Magi came to Christ because, "a magnificent star shone in the sky to mark his birthplace---but only three foreigners bothered to look up and follow it."

Certainly, the Magi were astronomers and knew that the star they saw in the Eastern sky was different and special.  Certainly too the Holy Spirit likely prepared them to notice it and to be compelled to follow it.  But I find myself wondering...could anyone have looked up and seen the special star and followed it to where Christ was?  Only God knows the answer really.  But what I take away from this question is another question:

What "stars" that point to Jesus have been there for me to simply look up and see, that I simply didn't bother to look up and see???

How many people, situations, circumstances have come my way from God Himself, that He wanted to use to show me Christ Himself, that I just didn't notice?  It's a staggering question and an inspiring one too.  

I know God is in the everyday and ordinary.  In fact, the God of the Universe chooses to be intimately acquainted with my (self proclaimed) mundane existence.  Not only this, Scripture tells me He absolutely delights in it. 

 Hmmm....what would life be like for me if I embraced this truth with arms and heart wide open???  

I pray for eyes that really see, ears that really hear, and a heart that truly seeks.  I pray to understand that no matter where I am I stand on Holy ground because he's in me and with me.  

And most importantly, I pray to never forget that my all access pass came at a price so great, my mind will never be able to wrap itself around it.

Nothing

nothing is quite as relaxing as a dimly lit room and me alone with my thoughts, a pen and some paper

nothing has ever looked quite as graceful as the very first steps of a determined tiny toddler

nothing feels so right as knowing someone you love is truly happy, and actually seeing it in their eyes

nothing brings quite the clarity to life as coming to understand that happiness is not where you are, or what you're doing, but rather who you are with and Who you serve

nothing comes close to the beauty of a man's calloused left hand adorned with a simple gold band

nothing is more affirming than knowing that someone hears the true cry of your heart even through the jumbled mess of words you used trying to express it

nothing brings home the concept of grace like making the same old mistake yet again, and yet again finding you haven't tapped out His supply of love

nothing comes so near total contentment than the very instant when your laughter begins to hurt and then becomes inaudible

nothing endears the very heart of you like having someone remember an unimportant detail about you that you don't even recall disclosing

nothing creates quite the sense of excitement as waiting and watching someone open a gift you bought them, not because you had to, but because you finally really know that joy is in the giving

and nothing can humble you the way God does when He patiently stands by as you wander many a fruitless journey, only to realize that what you're looking for is not to be found, but rather to simply be noticed right before you...
mnp 2009

Hands

This morning at church I found myself staring at my husband's hands. I LOVE his hands. No, they aren't perfect or those of a some kind of hand model. But I love them for no special reason and a thousand different reasons all at the same time.

They are the hands that tirelessly knead out the knots in my back and neck, asking for no return back rub.

They are the hands that deliver me the perfect cup of coffee every morning as we begin our day.

They are the hands that wrestle with our sons, or build Lego's with them or hold them tenderly when they need "daddy time."

They are the hands that mow and keep our beast of a yard, which requires so much more time than we ever imagined.

They are the hands that pitch in to fold clothes, unload the dishwasher or push a vacuum.

They are the hands that reach high things for me and open those lids that are freakishly tight.

They are the hands that text me during the day just to say "Hi" or "I love You."

They are the hands that are often folded in prayer for his family, his church, his buddies (who he is "Band of Brothers-esque" loyal to).

They are the hands that I truly believe God made to hold mine as we journey through this thing called life.

And this week, these very hands have loved me and served me for 10 wonderful years. Happy Anniversary to the love of my life, who is hands down the best man I know!