I'm Worse Than That

Some people are thieves, stealing others' money and possessions. Some people are adulterers, breaking the sacred trust of their spouse and giving away something that is not theirs to give. Some people are murderers, spilling blood and taking lives.

I'm worse than that. I judge. I look down my nose on people that don't measure up to my standards.

I do this to make myself feel better. If I place my focus on the wrong things people around me are doing, I forget about my own sin. If I point out the physical appearance flaws and the lacking skills of other people, I feel pretty, smart, and talented.

But underneath all my vanity, there's an ever so quiet and nagging voice, reminding me that I am an arrogant snob. It reminds me that "as I think in my heart, so am I". I would never tell that lady in the McDonald's booth that she was fat and ugly, so why do I think it? I would never tell that mother that she was a bad mom and has no business keeping her child, so why do I think it?

The first chapter of Romans speaks of God's judgement on sinners. I'm not one of those. Nope. I'm worse. I'm what he talks about in Romans 2... the judger. I am without excuse, for I sin just the same. The thief steals out of greed. I am greedy. The adulterer cheats out of selfishness. I am selfish. The murderer kills out of anger and spite. My heart thinks angry and spiteful thoughts.

Who am I to judge? God judges because He has the capability to show grace and to pardon the sins of others. Do I have that capability? Can I show unlimited grace? No. Can I pardon the sins of others? No. I cannot snatch them from the consequences of their sins.

I am no better than them, and yet when I judge, I place myself way above them. I play the role of God. What blasphemy! What disgrace!

Does God want "relationship" or glorification?

Throughout my life, various people, ministries, and books have thrown ingredients into my spiritual soup pot. And there it sat on the cold stove… a pot of soup ingredients. Occasionally, a bit of flame would ignite underneath and warm the soup, causing the flavors to blend together, but it would soon go out with the rushing breezes of life. A couple years ago, God took my pot right off the stove and thrust it straight into the fire. The soup began to bubble, and steam began to rise, infusing the soup with the flavors of God and His Word and removing a lot of the extra water of warm and fuzzy feelings.

I’m beginning to realize that my life is not about me. That there is nothing in this world that is for me. Everything good in my life is not for my pleasure, but for God’s. Everything bad in my life is not simply punishment or senseless happenstance that God might use. It is in my life because it brings Him glory. In every minute detail of my life, He is not about blessing me. He is about blessing Himself.

I think it’s easy to think perhaps we are the sun in God’s solar system. That somehow we are the sole reason for His existence. That He and His great plan revolve around us, His human creation. In reality, He is the center of the system, and we revolve around Him, along with all other creation.

“For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him” (Col. 1:16)

We exist for His glory, not He for ours. Our job is to make Him look good. To give Him praise and adoration. To direct the attention of ALL creation to His grand gloriness.

This means then that we were not created to “have a relationship” with God. It was not that God existed in a huge vastness and, in His loneliness, decided to create little human friends. It’s not that those little human friends went and messed it all up by eating the fruit and condemning themselves and every future generation to a sin nature and the inablity to be friends with God. No, it’s not like that at all.

First of all, because God is not human, He does not need us in an emotional way like we need Him and need each other.

Secondly, because if it were possible for His little friends to mess up His plan for friendship, then that would put His creation at a higher power than God Himself.

"And all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, but he does according to his will in the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of earth; and no one can ward off his hand or say to him, 'What hast Thou done?'" (Dan. 4:35).

So how does salvation fit into all this? If it’s not a story of a broken friendship needing our decision to mend it, then what is it?

It is a story of an all powerful, holy God displaying His glory.

“For my own sake, for my own sake I do it, for how should my name be profaned? My glory I will not give to another” (Is. 48:11).

In Ephesians chapter one, Paul tells us God’s goal in saving us from sin and for Himself.

Verse 5&6:
“He predestined us in love to be his sons through Jesus Christ according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of the glory of his grace.”

Verse 12:
“We who first hoped in Christ have been predestined and appointed to live for the praise of his glory.”

Verse 14:
“The Holy Spirit is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it to the praise of his glory.”

Then how does John 3:16 fit in? It says He loved the world so much, He saved us. The fact that salvation is part of His plan for His own glory does not eliminate the fact that He loves us. He created us to find and experience the most satisfaction and joy when we glorify Him.

Therefore, in providing us with a way to glorify Him through salvation, He is providing us with the greatest satisfaction and joy humanly possible to experience. And THAT is love!

Salvation is not about God’s creating a method for a relationship with God. It is about God providing a way for us to bring glory to Him. And in our glorifying, we find joy and fulfillment.

Salvation at an Early Age?

I have been wanting to blog on the topic of childhood salvation for many, many months. After reading this post from Amanda, author of Impress Your Kids blog, the other day, I've been mulling it over once again.

I accepted Jesus as my savior when I was four years old. My mom had recently become a Christian and one night, as she was tucking in my older brother in the top bunk (I was on the bottom), she told him how everyone does bad things (we are all sinners) and that the punishment for doing bad things is death and going to hell. But that Jesus died for us, so we would not have to go to hell. Instead, we could live with God in heaven. All we had to do was pray and tell God that we believe Jesus died for our sins. I don't remember what my brother's response was, but right then and there I prayed in my little heart and truly 100% believed that Jesus died for me and that one day I would live in heaven with Him.

I'm pretty sure that I did not at all understand everything about salvation. In fact, my mother tells me that many times as a child I would come to her and excitedly exclaim that I had just asked Jesus into my heart. The thing is, I don't remember any of those times. I only remember that fall night when I was 4 years old. I believe with every ounce in my body and soul that that was the night I truly became a child of God. That was the night I was saved from my sin and from the punishment of hell. That was the night I was justified and the night God began my sanctification (if you like big theological words).

Fast forward to last year when my then 4 year old daughter began to ask lots of questions about Jesus, his death on the cross, and his resurrection. I was excited to see her desire to know and understand God's great plan of salvation. But when the day came that she actually said she wanted to pray and tell God that she believed Jesus died in her place, I doubted.

"Surely, a child this young cannot know what they are really praying. I mean really... they cannot understand all the aspects of salvation." Thoughts like this were running wildly through my head as I heard her little voice plainly and simply admit her sin and declare her belief. And the thing that kept tripping me up was thinking that the only reason she is praying is because she doesn't want to go to hell when she dies. There's so much more to salvation than that.

But is there really? I mean the simple, boiled down truth is.... We all sin. Sin = death/hell. Jesus = life/heaven.

Jesus said (Mark 10:15),

Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.

A child does not over complicate things. They see the boiled down truth and accept it with all their hearts. It is at that point that their love and understanding begin to grow, but it is their initial, simple faith that brings them to salvation.

We are justified through faith (Eph. 2:8). The sanctification process of growth and deeper understanding and transformation comes only after we embrace the boiled down truth of the Gospel with childlike faith.*

How could I have ever doubted her? I am ashamed that I proudly thought little of the very thing Jesus proclaimed was the "greatest in the kingdom of God" (Mat. 18:4).

I should have known. After all, it was with the same childlike faith that I came to my precious Savior.


*For more information on the difference between justification and sanctification, you may find this article helpful.

There's Been a Metamorphosis

I recently revisited one of my old online treading grounds. I found that it has not changed a single iota. Which is fine, really. It doesn't bother me at all. The problem is, I have.

I first joined this lovely forum group when I was a tall, light summer tea, with the rays of the sun dancing on the surface and gleaming off the glass. I was carefree, bubbly, and spilling with an immature giddiness. Time passed and brought with it a measure of maturity. While I was still a happy summer tea, I took on a slightly darker tone.


The month I resignedly turned my back and walked away, the glass was knocked over and shattered. The all too thirsty earth swallowed the tea before I even realized what had happened. In its place, a large, heavy mug of thick, black coffee was thunked onto the table. Anyone tasting it would have vehemently spat it out. But there I sat in all my black drudge, too thick to see beyond my large, heavy mug.

That's when God began His culinary miracle. A good amount of the cream of comfort and healing... A heaping spoonful of sweet friendships found in unexpected places and people... The dash of spice of a new home church... All stirred together by the sovereign hand of God Himself.

I will never again be a light summer tea. I will never again be carefree and giddy. I am a coffee, deep and perhaps a bit more melancholy, but deliciously flavored by the sovereignty of God. And inside reigns a peaceful, unexplainable joy, which in my opinion is far better than carefree happiness.

Realness in the Raw

I'm going to totally go out on a limb here and assume I'm not the only one of those. You know... the mom who smiles calmly to those around her, but on the inside she's stretched tighter than a drum head. The very next slight tap will bust her nerves and send sparks flying in all directions.

It's not that she's angry about any one thing. It's not that she's a typically nasty person. She's just so dog gone overwhelmed by life and its petty demands.

She looks around her at church to see happy moms, dressed in smart, stylish clothes, hugging their precious little preschoolers, praising them for their little accomplishments. Every blog she visits online seems to the pour forth words from a mother who manages to boast on her kids, do her housework, run a home business, and blog at least three times a week, complete with photos.

She remembers back to the days before kids, when she could shower every day, paint her nails every week, clean the house, spend time online, and get in plenty of hobby time. But when she lets reality focus in around her, she trembles.

The laundry is piled five miles high in her living room. Three loads of dishes grace her kitchen counters. Her refrigerator smells as if it has 3 month old dinners within its never ending abyss... because it does. She can't remember when she last mopped the floors and knows it's been even longer since she dusted.

Her oldest child is banging her pencil on the table, waiting for help with her kindergarten work, again.... this being the 5th time it's been interrupted in the last 15 minutes. Her can’t-stay-focused-in-the-bathroom child is smearing toothpaste all over the mirror. Her nearly 2 year old is climbing, once again, to the top of the stove to reach the prized empty juice bottle. And of course, the baby is crying in her exersaucer.

She has a couple small side jobs waiting for attention... photo Christmas gifts she's wanting to work on... school to plan... blog to update... online friends who joke (rather sarcasticly) that she acts "like she's a mom of 4 or something", as they lament their neglect... parents who need to be contacted by their daughter... siblings who need a sister.

And while she's trying desperately to keep up with diapers and dishes, she has dreams, talents, and interests. What about the writing passion? What about the graphic design interests? What about the business ideas? What about the occasional hobby bug that bites her?

And so when her children simply act as children... and when chaos begins to reign in the house... when the noise level rises too high... or the mess is too big... the drum head breaks. Things come out of her mouth, sometimes yelled, that she would rather not have echo through her house.

It pains her to think of the wounds she gives to her children through her impatience. She asks their forgiveness, but worries that they don't understand just how incredibly much it pains her to know that she loses her patience with her very own children, whom she loves more than she could even comprehend.

She lies in bed at night and cries because she is the mother she never wanted to be. Those glorious, slow motion, sunny dreams of a mommy cooing to her baby as she swings him over her head are shattered by her own weakness. And all she can do is fall to her knees before her Father and beg for mercy, forgiveness, and grace.

Here and Now

It seems every year in my life has its own theme. Last year's theme was "It Is Well With My Soul", a calm assurance that even as I faced some things I never thought I'd have to deal with, it truly is well with my soul. Even in the midst of storm, my soul remained anchored in the sovereignty of God.

This year's theme seems to be "Here and Now". There are some changes I have needed to make on just about all fronts of my life, but I have always said to myself, "It's a stage. I'll change when it's over."

I have been in dire need of a mom attitude makeover. I get so easily stressed and frustrated with the kids and the hundred and one other things life seems to think I need to attend to, and when that happens, my tone takes on a complete absence of love. My mom attitude is the farthest thing from what I want it to be and definitely far from pleasing to God. But I kept saying, "It's a stage. When the youngest is past the toddler stage, things will be much easier." But really who's to say it will? Who's to say the stress will lower? And while I'm waiting for the youngest to get past the whiny age, my oldest is half grown. She will have lived half her childhood with a mom sportin' a bad attitude. I DON'T WANT THAT!

I've also been needing to render proper respect and love to my husband (whom I love with all my being; don't get me wrong), but once again I would rationalize. "It's a tough stage right now. He's gone a lot with work and school. I'm working through some things that make it hard for me. Once these struggles becomes easier, then I can get better at this whole respect thing." But you know, who's to say the struggles will ever go away? And who's to say that, if it does, it will be any easier? While I'm waiting for the stage to pass, I'm being the drippy faucet, and my poor husband is wounded over and over. I DON'T WANT THAT!

There's also a relationship in my life that I sometimes would really rather pretend wasn't even there. It's a difficult one to maintain. I have let myself put this relationship to the very back burner and only face it when I absolutely had to. I kept saying, "They're not ready to change, and you can't help someone who doesn't want help. When they come to their senses, I'll pick it back up and I'll be right there for them." But who's to say they will ever "come to their senses"? Who's to say they will ever get to the point of seeing the kind of person they are letting themselves be? While I wait, this person could very well pass away. I could lose any opportunity of showing them genuine love and honor in the blink of an eye. I would live with the knowledge that I just didn't care enough to sacrifice my convenience and comfort. I DON'T WANT THAT!

It's been a tough several months as I've worked at these fronts. I am glad to say that I do see progress, but I am also aware that I have a long way to go. I'm just reminded everyday that this is the last time I will be able to live this day. I can never go back, but I can love in the present and sow seeds for the future.


Blink

by Revive

Teach me to number my days
And count every moment before it slips away
Taking all the colors before they fade to gray
I don't want to miss even just a second more of this

It happens in a blink
It happens in a flash
It happens in the time it took to look back
I try to hold on tight, but there's no stopping time
What is it I've done with my life
It happens in a blink

When it's all said and done
No one remembers how far we have run
The only thing that matters is how we have loved
I don't want to miss even just a second more of this

It happens in a blink
it happens in a flash
it happens in the time it took to look back
I try to hold on tight but there's no stopping time
What is it I've done with my life
It happens in a blink

Slow down, slow down
Before today becomes our yesterday
Slow down, slow down
Before you turn around and it's too late

It happens in a blink
it happens in a flash
it happens in the time it took to look back
I try to hold on tight but there's no stopping time
What is it I've done with my life
It happens in a blink

Syndromes of Motherhood

Have you ever noticed that all mothers seem to share the same strange ailments? You know those characteristics that everyone else seems to shake their head at? I've been thinking about them recently. What are they? And just because they're normal, should they be part of my life? If not, how do I conquer them? Perhaps each syndrome has its own answer. Perhaps it's not right to generalize them.



Squirrel Syndrome

Please tell me I'm not the only one. I get up in the morning with the intention to start the laundry. I grab the hamper from my closet. I figure I can drag it to the laundry room and get a load going real quick. On the way down the hall, I realize I should probably get the crying baby out of bed before she wakes up the other kids. When I go to get her out of bed, I notice her crib sheet needs changed. I strip her bed while balancing her on my hip. Of course, that's when she relieves herself and since her diaper is swollen from the long night, it all leaks out on me. I stop changing the sheet to clean her and I up. By this time, everyone else is awake, and thus starts all the dressing and breakfast routines... then the rest of the morning... then the afternoon... then the evening... then finally bedtime has arrived. I sleepily trudge down the hall to bed and trip over the hamper I drug out to the hall that morning.

If you've ever seen Disney Pixar's new movie Up, you'll know what I'm referring to by "squirrel". The dogs are distracted in mid sentence or mid action anytime they think they see a squirrel. The dogs randomly shout out "squirrel" and they completely get side tracked.

Pretty sure this syndrome is very normal for mothers, since there are many little "bosses" constantly putting in their orders on top of all the other responsibilities we have on our to-do lists. I don't think it is wrong, but it could possibly become more controlled with some organization, delegation, and prioritization.


Rewind While You Unwind Syndrome

When I slide in under my covers at night, my first thought is, "AH!!! Finally! I'm so tired. Glad this day is over." But as soon as I let myself relax, the rewinder kicks in, replaying the day. I review every action, every word, every tone of voice, every decision, everything I got done, everything I didn't get done... and the guilt builds and builds and builds. I second guess every decision, kick myself for every impatient word, and scowl with frustration at every unfinished job. I spill tears onto my pillow all too frequently. Why can't I be like my husband and just shut it all off and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow?

I'm guessing it's the woman part of us that makes us reprocess everything. But maybe it could be used for good instead of frustration. I think I'm going to start keeping a rule. I'm allowed to think of all the good things of the day. I will relive the moments I don't want to forget, like the sun shining on my girlie's head and the beaming smile across my son's face. But I'm only allowed one negative, and it must be something I can positively improve on. If I were overly impatient with my children that day, I can admit that, but only if I purpose to turn it over to God and ask for His help to do better the next day.


I'm Only One Person Syndrome

When I think of all my responsibilities in categories and subcategories, I sink deep into the mire of despair. The very idea of accomplishing even 50% of them is daunting, and even more so to accomplish them well. How in the world can I be wife, mother, housekeeper, laundry woman, cook, school teacher, gardener, designer, daughter, sister, friend, and whatever other title I'm probably not thinking of at the moment? And how in the world can I carry out all the responsibilities that go along with those in such a way that every person I touch feels loved and cherished?

I'm pretty sure that there is not a woman in the world that can accomplish everything on their plate in equal skill and dedication. I think it's probably a good thing to remind myself that I am only one, but rather than acknowledging it in a negative, pouting way, I should use it to set myself free from my own unreasonable expectations. I need to learn to daily ask God what my priorities are for the day, and be happy to have accomplished ONLY that, if that's all I get done. I need to make sure I make His priorities my priorities, rather than trying to accomplish my own plan.

I think too, that while the statement that I am only one is true humanly, it is not true spiritually. I am the temple of the Holy Spirit. He dwells inside me. He will lead and guide. I have only to put the reins in His hands, and He will ensure that I accomplish the most important things each day.


Air Head Syndrome

I cannot tell you how many times my brain literally feels empty. I cannot think at all. I try to figure out what bills need to be paid. I try to compose a grocery list. But nothing works up there. There are even times when I cannot talk. The thoughts are there, but when I open my mouth, the words are all jumbled and make no sense at all. I sometimes trip over my own feet or get turned around in should be familiar places. I forget things that most people should be able to remember.

I'M NOT STUPID!!! I'm just tired.... more tired than a non-mother can probably understand. They may think that since I'm not falling asleep, I must not be that tired. I am after all, still able to dress kids, change diapers, do dishes, etc. But the fact is, those are all done on autopilot and can easily be done in my sleep, with my eyes closed. How much easier than to do them in a zombie state with my eyes open.

Yup. Normal. Very normal for a mom of babies/toddlers/preschoolers. But seriously, can I improve? Yeah, I could go to bed instead of typing long blog posts at insane hours of the night. I can nap instead of reorganizing that hall closet. Am I really getting all the sleep that I could? Or am I only adding to my misery?


Cinderella Syndrome

When I was single, I was sure that the wife and mommy life would be pretty much all a bed of roses... happy moments mixed with romance, hugs, kisses, and little posies. Ha Ha Ha!!! Oh there's plenty of happy and romance, but truthfully there's more of the Cinderella dressed in rags scrubbing the floor than there is Cinderella dressed in a ball gown dancing with the prince. Sometimes I can get caught up in the disappointment of the shattered fairy tale. Or I dream of the "Cinderella fairytale" that will come when the kids are grown and gone and I have "my life back".

There is no Cinderella fairytale. Life is not a bed of roses. It is a long list of jobs to be lived out for the King. Joy comes not in wearing the tiara of selfishness, but in donning my servants' gown for the King.


So many syndromes... yet there's hope for improvement if I just give myself the kick to get me there.

Through the Valley to the Mountain

We have a large cottonwood tree in our backyard. It's one of my very favorite things about our yard. Yeah, it's annoying when the early spring breezes blow the fluffy cotton everywhere. Our yard takes on the look of snow all over again. But I love it, because the shape of the tree is ruggedly beautiful and unique. Even in the dead of winter, when the tree is completely bare, it makes me smile. Over the past week, my dear cottonwood has started hanging out its autumn fare. I'm not sure what I think about that. Its beautiful. I'm thinking I'm about ready for some autumn weather and snuggly kids. (My sweet baby girl has not worn an outfit with her legs coverd since the day she was born other than a few days ago when it was cool.)

But, autumn also brings with it some memories that I would much rather block out. I've gone through two majorly deep valleys in my life, both occuring in the fall months. I was just beginning to put the first so far behind that I was really starting to love fall. That's when God dragged me through the second valley.

It's a hard time of year. On the surface, I'm prefectly fine and happy, but somewhere deep inside there's an underlying sadness. On especially gray days, the darkness within threatens to swallow me up. That's when I thrust myself at God, begging for His light to take over. He reaches down and pulles me up to His mountain top where the sun pours its light and warmth over my soul.

And so every autumn, the darkness comes, but every autumn, the Light wins out. Every autumn, the sweetness of God's closeness is thrown upon the saddness of the memories. One day, the sweetness will be equal to the sadness. Soon after, the sweetness will be greater than the sadness, until finally the sweetness entirely engulfs the sadness, leaving only an intense joy. "I do not consider myself to have embraced it yet: but this one thing I do, forgetting what lies behind, and straining forward to what lies ahead" (Phil. 3:13)

So for now, I'm working on climbing God's mountain, my hand in His as He pulls me up to the sunshine.

Even though the journey's long
And I know the road is hard
Well, the One who's gone before me
He will help me carry on.
After all that I've been through
Now I realize the truth
That I must go through the valley
To stand upon the mountain of God.

(Third Day - Mountain of God)