That Stuff on the Wall

"I need some of that stuff on the wall."

Mystified, I glanced around...at animal posters, a string of Christmas lights, the skin of a long-dead critter, an adorable baby picture, and...cooties, definitely cooties.  

Not enlightened, I had to ask, "What stuff on the wall, Buddy?"

"You  know, the stuff you need all the time.  The letters you put on the wall."

I'm somewhat strangled by emotion.  Laughter and tears can be felt at the same time.  Intensely.

The "stuff" I "need...all the time."  It appears that I have modelled failure...often?  I know immediately to what stuff on the wall he refers.

Those letters I have stencilled on the wall in the hub of my home where they are needed often and desperately.  G...R...A...C...E.  Grace.

His cry for grace pierces my heart.  I burrow through tangled covers to wrap my arms around the sweating, heaving chest because I absolutely cannot refuse this cry for grace.  Impossible to be anything other than entreated.

"So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask Him..."

Indeed.   Why do I hesitate?  Frantically, foolishly, trying to remove stains with my own filthy hands.  Desperately trying to undo what's been done.  Justify.  Defy.  Clarify.  Who did what and when.  You.  Me.  Us.

What has been done cannot often be undone.  There is only one glorious cure.  Grace.  His divine presence entering the mess we've made.  Empowering the wronged to forgive.  Granting the guilty the privilege of standing free of shame.  All to be made beautiful.  Even that which cannot be undone.

Those letters have marked that spot for much more than a year, but it was only today that I recognized the irony of the fact that the "time out" bench has sat beneath those letters all this while.  The spot in which one sits to catch one's breath, to breathe deeply before any more words explode.  The spot to think for a moment before anything else thoughtless erupts into the atmosphere.  The spot one only gets sent to when it's too late.  When the damage has been done.

Except for grace.

"So let us boldly approach the throne of grace.  

Then we will receive mercy.

We will find grace to help us when we need it."

Boldly approach...receive...grace...we need.

Come and sit with me a while?  Let's stay long enough.  Long enough to soak up so much grace that all shame and distress is washed away.  Long enough that grace begins to run over and wash the chip off the shoulder.  Long enough to be filled to overflowing with grace for that one who feels like a thorn in my side, a pebble in your shoe, the spark to our fuse.  Long enough to worship.

Let's rest a while under the writing on the wall.

Because we all "need some of that stuff on the wall."

Matthew 7:11 NLT

Hebrews 4:16 NIRV

Crazy but True

She sits alone in the crowd.  All the other moms are in little groups, chatting.  She radiates isolation.    And I know.  I know.  

I've known isolation...and received healing Love that trumps the love of a hundred friends. I also know that this Love was made to pass on...sigh.  

I've said hello before and tried to strike up a conversation.  It was about as much fun as a tooth extraction.  I've done enough today.  Given all I have to give.  Jeepers, can't it be someone else's turn?  

These thoughts are pathetic at best... despicable really.  Jesus gave me Love that pulled me out of a pit of hopelessness and I must, must pass it on.  I'm compelled...not by a "should" but by gratitude.  But I'm not feeling it at the moment.

So I ask for the will, the want, from the One who promises to give "the desire and the power to do what pleases Him."  

How crazy is that??  He's lavished an incredible, extravagant, live-changing love on me.  I balk and whine about passing it on.  Rather than strike me with a cosmic lightening bolt, He offers to help me.  He grants desire and power to do what pleases Him.  

So many times I've thought He was angry with me, thought He'd rejected me because I couldn't get it right...and I couldn't have been more wrong.  He's there--ready, willing, eager to offer all the resources of heaven.

He's just waiting for my yes.  Yes, I'm willing to be made willing.

Sometimes His grace seems too amazing!  What can I do but fall more wildly, more crazily in love with Him?  

And greet a lonely stranger.  :-)

 “O Lord, there is no one like you. 

We have never even heard of another God like you!

1 Chronicles 17:20

Philippians  2:13

Peace

Only one little paper left in my Box of Love this morning, but, oh, what a beautiful benediction we're left with!

Now may the Lord of peace Himself

give me peace

at all times

and in every way.

On this Thursday of Holy Week we remember a King kneeling to wash the filthy feet of imperfect men.  We remember how He broke bread and asked that we remember His body broken for our peace.  Peace in our homes, our marriages, our parenting, our workplaces...peace in a world where there is no peace without Him.  He gave everything for our peace.

When peace is fractured by selfishness...when we shatter the peace with angry or impatient words...when peace unravels because we forget how deeply, truly, profoundly we are loved...it's not the end of the story.  He died so that when we fumble, falter, blow it...there's still hope.  When we reach for the gift of the cross, grace floods in and redeems.  Everything.  Anything.  There is nothing so great, strong, or dark that His grace cannot bring beauty out of the ashes of our despair.

When we're weary and feel like we cannot carry on...or ask for grace one more time...He kneels and washes our wandering feet, refreshing our peace.

In this weekend of holy celebrations may you discover His peace in new ways.  For you and for your peace He came and lived and died.  We can hardly comprehend the magnitude of His suffering and we've only begun to experience the depths of what was purchased for us.

I pray you fully embrace His grace in all of your interactions with family and friends.  May you receive the gift of grace He's given and extend it to others.

For Christ himself has brought peace to us.

Ephesians 2:14a

2 Thessalonians 3:16

This post is part of a series Love in a Box

Truce Day

I've had this feeling that the kids and I might possibly be suffering from a form of cabin fever.  We get out almost every day (in fact, I'm thankful for the odd day that we don't have to rush off), but there's been a lot of "nose to the grindstone", we're with each other all day every day, and it's been a terrible winter in terms of opportunity for outdoor fun.  Wikipedia says the symptoms of cabin fever include "restlessness, irritability, paranoia, irrational frustration with everyday objects, forgetfulness, laughter, excessive sleeping, distrust of anyone they are with, and an urge to go outside even in the rain, snow, dark or hail."  


"Irrational frustration with everyday objects" rang true!  Not entirely funny as this irrational frustration might have been wearing on the hearts of my kids.  Okay, we could argue that the frustration is entirely rational when a mother's told her children the same bedtime routine for nine years and said child needs to be reminded yet again...  Whatever the case, I've noticed our hearts have been showing signs of wear and tear.


I declared Friday a fun day.  I (privately) vowed not to nag one bit.  No hurrying, no mention of mud or mess, no comment on the number of times they've been told the same thing.  Training mannerly citizens calls for those things, but Friday was going to be a truce of sorts. 


On our way to the pool I realized with a twinge of disappointment that I hadn't opened my verse of the day from the love box.  


I sat by the pool and read some encouragement for moms and homeschoolers.  I breathed a sigh of grateful prayer.


At one point, I thought of hurrying the kids so I'd have time to blog.  Nope.  Vow.  Love was the rule of the day.  Kids before writing.


We had fun all day.  We lingered and laughed, licked ice cream.  It felt good.


I got home just in time to head out again for some girl time with good friends.  Crazy, I know!  Can you have that much fun in one day?  Could I survive a day without crossing anything off the list?  A day wherein the list might grow due to neglect?  


At 11:30 p.m., waaaaay past my bed time, far too late to blog, I peeked at Week 1, Day 6:

I am growing and becoming strong in spirit,

filled with wisdom;

and the grace of God is upon me.

I chuckled in a slightly choked up way.  I felt like my Papa was smiling as He spoke words of affirmation.  Good job, girl, in making love a priority over the list.  Thanks for setting aside your goals to cherish the hearts of my little ones.


He grants wisdom, just because...because He loves.  He knows our needs.  He cares about the details of our lives.  He gives us grace and we pass it on.  How I love grace...they way it infuses our lives, reconnects our undeserving hearts, and revives.  


We love because He first loved us.

Luke 2:40

This post is part of a series Love in a Box

Unto Us, A Son

I'll be the first to admit that my sense of humour is a bit quirky...especially when it come to words.  The phrase "family planning" is one that seems logical to others, but makes me want to break into (hysterical) laughter.  In my life it's been a bit of an oxymoron.

Once upon a time seven specialists predicted that my chances of ever bearing children were slim-to-none.  When that precious first baby arrived I was "lucky"...better adopt if I'd like another.  Just when I despaired of ever having a second, I began to lose my breakfast...lunch...and supper.  After that second precious one arrived, I decided that it was unlikely I could make it through another pregnancy and take care of the two I had.  Sort of a count-my-blessings-and-cut-my-losses philosophy.  For the first time in our married lives we tried to figure out how not to have children.  Let's just say that before my second was through her colicky stage, I started losing my breakfast...lunch...and supper...again.

From the first moments of realization my thought processes leapt from "this isn't possible" to "it's a boy."  I can't explain how I knew, I just did.   Mostly I went around saying, "I don't know this happened!"  (My husband kindly but firmly pointed out that I sounded like an idiot and needed to stop saying that.)

Nine years ago today I held my son for the first time.  His birth was miraculous.  He was a big baby, bigger than my body could deliver without some trauma to both of us.  In the same way my heart is labouring to birth a man of character--not without some trauma.  To both of us.  It often feels like a job that's too big for me.  How is a mother to know how to properly nurture the heart of man who was born to conquer?  I make mistakes and seek grace.  I constantly turn to the Creator who has written the manual and He gives wisdom so we both grow.

Some days this man-child makes me scratch my head in confusion.  Many days I hold my breath as he insists on risking a higher, longer, bigger...jump, flip, turn.  Every day he makes me laugh with a laughter that I feel from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.  The grey hairs are a small price to pay, the laugh lines definitely worth it, the fierce hugs keep me going.

I honestly don't know if I'll ever succeed in persuading him to contain rude noises at inappropriate times, but I think together we've figured out how to keep a heart connection.  I'm determined to continue modelling grace--given and received.  I'll keep leading him to the One who sustains me. Trusting that will be enough to help him climb the mountains yet to be discovered.

Love you, Buddy.

And I will pour out my Spirit on your descendants,

and my blessing on your children.

They will thrive like watered grass, like willows on a riverbank.

Isaiah 44:3b-4

Perseverance

When we came out of gymnastics tonight the sky was still light.  My heart leaped with hope!  Last week it had been dark.  My head knew the days were getting longer, but I hadn't been able to tell day-by-day.

Yesterday I had to deal with an employee--it ended up becoming a bit of a confrontation.  It was only afterward that I realized I was okay.  It didn’t take an hour for my emotions to calm.  That’s a big deal for me.  I hadn’t realized I was making progress in that area.  (Honestly, it’s about time!)

And so growth and change happen, often in little increments, barely perceptible, but eventually recognizable.

We can become discouraged, we despair and wonder if we’re making any progress at all...until one day we recognize the difference, we feel Spring in the air, the sun finally peeks over the horizon.

His promises to complete the good work He started in you are more sure than the coming of Spring.  You have His word on it.  Take heart.  Like the coming of the dawn, His life is growing inside of you.  Keep on keeping on--you’re on the brink of the glorious.

Blessing you with perseverance and grace.

We pray that you’ll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul--

not the grim strength of gritting your teeth 

but the glory-strength God gives.  

It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, 

thanking the Father who makes us strong enough

to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us. 

 Colossians 1:11-12 MSG

Puddle of Grace

I love reading blogs.

Last night I read a mommy blog by a well-meaning mom who is passionate about her cause.  I respect her for that.  We need to be persuaded of what we believe.  Her facts are probably accurate.  She feels so strongly that she admitted that she judges moms who fall short of her standard.  Unfortunately, I fall short.  If she knew me, she'd judge me.  It's a gross feeling.  Defensive words rise and bubble and I want to plead my case.

The only reason I have that response is because I wish I could somehow look good in everyone's eyes.  That's an ugly idol.

The idol of the good opinion of others is a ruthless, unforgiving, exhausting taskmaster.  Foolish, foolish woman that I am to even pause there.  I long for the day in which I don't even twitch at the allure of this vain idol.

When I look into the eyes of my Savior all I can see is love--even though I fall so far short of His glory (which is so much greater than that of any human standard!).  Here is a God worth serving!  He offers me His grace for the messy places.  He offers His strength to help me reach the goals He values.  He offers me the loving community of others who also recognize their need.

As I sit there in a puddle of loving grace, laughter rises up.  Thanksgiving and worship begin to drown out all the defensive words.

If you find yourself feeling inadequate or defensive today, I invite you to join me at the foot of the cross.  There's so much grace and joy here!

So let us come boldly to the throne of

our gracious God.

There we will receive his mercy,

and we will find grace

to help us when we need it most.

Hebrews 4:16 NLT

More Grace

He just keeps giving me grace.

I want solutions, answers, breakthrough!  I want, I want, I want...!  I want good things, things that He has promised.

He says, "My grace is all you need.  My power works best in weakness."

How ridiculous is it to fight against "just grace" as though it is not enough?  As though by resisting acceptance of grace as enough, I get to have the other answers I want, when I want?  Saying it that way, the fierce fight crumbles...  I've been given grace and God's power that works through, despite, best...in my deficiency, fragility, lack.  This is the spot where His glory is going to shine through.

Grace is all I need while I wait for the fulfillment of the promise.  Acceptance brings rest.

Enough.

Giving thanks for grace that is more than enough.

2 Corinthians 12:9

Unfolding Grace

I went Christmas shopping today--I'm usually finished by now--and all my good ideas ended up nowhere.  I had to resist the tidal wave of consumer frenzy that surrounded me and threatened to overcome me with the urge to buy everything, anything, just to get it done!  Never mind my own panic at not being firmly in control of crossing things off my list.   Had to dig deep for the peace that's rooted in knowing that a great Love surrounds me and cares about the details of my life, the people I want to bless.  He cares...

Then my husband didn't agree with me on the one gift I did think would work.  My teeth clenched against the rise of words that won't help.  Struggled against the sense of frustration that this responsibility rests more on me than on him.  Fight.  Fight to honour and cherish relationship over getting things my way...

He met me there in those hard choices...  Slowly peace overtook panic and anger.  Slowly.  So slowly, I'm learning that things ultimately work out really well when I surrender to His grace.  He offers it to me and through me.

Grace, kindly and gently, working out ALL things for good in the heart that keeps on turning...and returning when it loses it's way...to the Source of all hope, comfort, and strength.

So we're not giving up.  How could we!

Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us,

on the inside, where God is making new life,

not a day goes by without his unfolding grace...

There's far more here than meets the eye.

The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow.

But the things we can't see now will last forever.

2 Corinthians 4:16, 18

Flexibility

The word of the day--perhaps of the week--is definitely flexibility.

We have two precious like-family little girls with us for a few days, my mother-in-law is surprising us a with a visit, and this is the week I need to train someone at work.  Each one a blessing, yet 'all at the same time' with the potential to push my I-want-to-manage-everything-perfectly-and-with-a-minimum-of-chaos brain into panic.

"My peace--my shalom, a calm in the midst of the storm--I leave with you...don't let your heart be troubled."

Breathe, bend, flex, release control.

Years ago I exercised at a Curves Fitness Center.  Many elderly women also exercised there and I was surprised at the difference in their mobility and balance.  Some of them were well into their 80s and quite flexible and strong.  Some were in their 60s and not nearly so mobile.  Of course I struck up a conversation with them!  Besides finding people so interesting, I wanted to discover the secret.  I want to be a strong and flexible ninety-year-old!

The ones who were strong and flexible had maintained a practice of regularly stretching and exercising.

Ah, stretching.

I found a of list of benefits to stretching and it includes:  increased energy and flexibility, better range of motion, stress relief, improved posture and coordination, greater circulation of blood to various body parts, and a greater sense of well-being.

When I'm rigid and controlling there's potential for breakage--mine or perhaps someone I love!  When I stretch and bend there's stress relief and a sense of well being.  That thought makes me smile.

My prayer for today is for your grace to fill me, Lord.  I choose to stretch and to be okay with things not going according to my plan.  I invite your shalom to increase my energy, range of motion, and coordination.  Please keep me from becoming twisted up in self-centeredness.  I want greater circulation of your life and love flowing in me and through me to others.  Help me to stretch and flex.  All and only by your power and grace.  Amen.


John 14:27

Grace

"Why are you putting those letters there?"

The shelf has been there as long as we've lived in this house.  It's a weathered board, a piece of an old grainary, once the storehouse of someone's bounty, now it holds treasured keepsakes, each a memory of a special friend and a unique blessing bestowed.  It hangs at the main intersection of our house, between kitchen and dining room, where all our intense living happens.

On this day, I placed five letters below.

G R A C E

I need the bold reminder.

I need grace.  Badly.

I'm so not perfect.  I hate it.  I find myself wishing I was a better wife, mother, friend.  To make matters worse no one else around me is perfect either!  Sometimes in this space of intense living frustration brews and impatience stews.  Sometimes it bursts out and shrapnel rips and wounds.  Sometimes a sense of inadequacy drains all my energy.  All my wishing accomplishes nothing.  The only thing that will make any difference is grace.  I must open myself to receive it, acknowledging my failure/inadequacy and His tender desire to come and redeem.  Apart from Him I can do nothing.  I can't make myself better so He'll receive me.  I need to make myself humble so He can restore.  I need to receive grace for myself.  I need to extend grace to the imperfect ones I love.

Grace floods in when we open the door!  In spite of my weakness, because of His greatness, amazing things happen.  Relationships are strengthened instead of eroded.  Love grows instead of bitterness.  It's an inside out, upside down economy where the deficit of failure, and the zero of my ability to do things perfectly are turned into treasure...because of grace, amazing grace.

Grace.

To receive and give.

Because he first loved us.

If death got the upper hand through one man's wrongdoing,

can you imagine the breathtaking recovery life makes,

sovereign life,

in those who grasp with both hands this wildly extravagant life-gift,

this grand setting-everything-right,

that the one man Jesus Christ provides?

Romans 5:17 MSG

Foolish Wisdom

I was 23 years old the day that I stumbled out of the seventh specialist's office, barely able to see through a blur of tears. They all spoke similar words: incurable, the possibility of having children is slim-to-none, the best we can offer is a surgery which will also have the effect of certain infertility.

Only this doctor had been harsher, much harsher: "You're foolish to continue in pain like this. Take charge of your life! Get the surgery and be done with it." I wasn't married, had no husband-in-waiting, but couldn't take this drastic step. Foolish. Maybe.

There was a gentle man with big green eyes in my life. I wasn't yet sure there was a future with him, but I told him my story. His response: "That's just the best opinion humans have to offer. Only God knows for sure what your future holds and whatever it is, His plans are always good." Wise words.

It was five years later that I looked into those same green eyes and whispered the impossible, "We're going to have a baby." There was still pain in my body only now it was different. The pain was no longer being caused by dysfunction, but by life, a life that was growing and breaking up scar tissue.

And so it has been with motherhood: joy mixed with pain as the scar tissue of my soul has been stretched and broken to make a way for these little lives to grow healthy and strong.

How foolish is it of God to place life inside a broken person, to trust them with the shaping of another life when theirs is still so unformed? Or is it a profound wisdom which recognizes that the power of mother-love will stir the heart to fight for freedom for the sake of her children?

The challenges of parenting have revealed weak places and fractures and have inspired a desperate desire for wholeness so that my brokenness might not harm my children. This love has made me willing to be vulnerable and address what might otherwise have remained tucked away and "not a big deal". Scar tissue has been stretched and reshaped to make way for Life and it is good. Maybe it is wise rather than foolish to give children to fragile parents.

This reckless pursuit of freedom has been met with wide open arms. Arms that have been waiting for me to run into them. Waiting for my willingness to engage in the process. He's been very gentle and kind. He's generously provided wisdom and patience far greater than my own. He's also been extravagant. He's blessed me with three beautiful children and filled our home with laughter. We fall and we get back up again...and again. My children have seen my weakness and they've witnessed my redemption. He truly is the God of the impossible.

My mother modeled this pursuit of grace for me and on this Mother's Day I honour and thank her for that--it may be one of the greatest gifts she's given to me.

May you be blessed this Mother's Day with a peaceful knowing that perfection in parenting is not the goal. Simply follow the gentle Shepherd. He will lead you and your children safely through the valleys and into green pastures.

"He will feed his flock like a shepherd.
He will carry the lambs in his arms,
holding them close to his heart.
He will gently lead the mother
sheep with their young."
Isaiah 40:11

Gracious

Sometimes stuff just pops out of my mouth. It seems to completely bypass my brain and shock those around me only a little less than I myself am shocked. It was a very wise One indeed who said that the mouth speaks out of the heart.* Many times no brain cells are involved at all.

However, there are times when it's not a bad thing. It's as though I'm being spoken to through my own mouth. I know the wisdom is not my own. I'm being inspired--"breathed into" by the Spirit of Truth. Such was the case on Monday...

My little one's heart is often frustrated by the fact that people simply will not follow rules. They must. If they won't, she is compelled to set things straight. I know there's a plan for this passion but it can also be the source of much strife--the job often belongs to another--in this case, her parents.

"He's not letting her answer the question!"

At this moment, the "her" in question was okay with that and simply enjoying the conversation.

Words poured out of my mouth that were for her and for me.

"Just be gracious. Grace-filled. Be at peace with the fact that he's not perfect and yet still worthy of being loved. Just like you are."

Just be gracious.

Grace-filled.

Not perfect.

Worthy of being loved.

"Be gentle with one another, sensitive.

Forgive one another

as quickly and thoroughly

as God in Christ forgave you."

Ephesians 4:32

Matthew 15:18