Lord, help my mom see…

A disclaimer:  My mother edits all my blogs.  Since this blog is about her, it’s not been edited…please be patient if I missed something.  I couldn’t write this blog without my mom–she’s amazing!

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My parents with our entire family.

Well, it’s the week after mother’s day. I’ve been pondering what it means to be a “good mother,” for while but it took spending a weekend with my wonderful mom to solidify my thoughts. My last post I talked about a painful moment in my childhood where my mom, in an effort to help me fit in better at school, asked me to “change” my behavior. (I hugged everyone, and I mean everyone, and I wanted to show people how much I liked them by hugging them.) After reading the blog my mother shared it on Facebook and said, “so many regrets.” This comment broke my heart. I didn’t want her to regret anything. I was simply reflecting on lessons I learned and applying them to how I raise Mattie. So, this blog is addressed to my mom. Let me tell you what I learned about being a “good mother,” from one of the best.

1. Mom, you taught me to always evaluate who I am as a mom. You do this even now. You question your motives. You analyze your actions. You worry that it’s never enough. I believe part of being a good mom is learning from mistakes, and not assuming that I know what I’m doing, because I don’t.   You didn’t either, but because you cared, you didn’t have to know—wanting to do it right made all the difference.

2. Mom, you taught me that sometimes words aren’t needed. There were many times in my childhood where I remember you just holding me as I cried.   You always say you “talked us to death.” I disagree; you always seemed to know when not to speak.

3. Mom, you taught me how to vent. There are times when our frustrations run high and we need to just let it out. You have always been my sounding board. You have always been there to temper my ire with patience and grace (and sometimes the willingness to fight off whoever was hurting me).   I still use you for that today, and you’ve taught me to do the same for Mattie when she’s frustrated.

4. Mom, you’ve taught me that being a good mom means being a good listener—even when it hurts. I remember our long walks where I worked through the hardest moments in my life. You listened. You didn’t try to fix anything. You were simply there. Loving me was enough. You were my companion through turbulent waters. You couldn’t make the storm pass, but you could walk through it with me.

5. Mom, you’ve taught me the power of prayer. I knew you were praying for me when I was growing up. I knew that you trusted that He had a plan, even when you worried what that plan might be. I have the faith that I have now, because you taught me how to live as a Christian.

Part of being a good mom, is knowing that you’ll make mistakes, but trusting that God can take those mistakes and turn them into an amazing blessing.

Finally, mom, here’s something I’ve been learning lately. Part of being a good mom, is knowing that you’ll make mistakes, but trusting that God can take those mistakes and turn them into an amazing blessing. I don’t want to make mistakes any more than you did. But, I know from my own life that the mistakes I make God will use to mold Mattie into an amazing light for Him. I have to trust Him. I’m afraid. I worry. I evaluate. I pray. I love her more than my own life. I learned how to be the mom I am because of you. Please don’t be sad about the mistakes you may have made. Use them to show the world the power of Christ to take any circumstance—even a bull headed girl like me—and make a blessing out of it.

I love you mom. You’re my hero.

Lord, help me show her she’s enough…

God's Handiwork

Before Easter I had the awesome opportunity to take my daughter to the “Secret Keeper Crazy Hair Tour,” in a nearby town.  If you have the chance to take your daughter to one of these events, please do so.  Don’t let conflicts get in your way—it will bless you and your daughter immensely!   One of the most impacting moments was after one of the speakers shared her personal testimony about her battle with body image.   After sharing that God doesn’t want the girls to be “normal” but instead that they should be endeavoring to be “Crazy” for God, the speaker asked everyone’s eyes to close.  She led the girls in laying their own hand on the area of their body that they don’t like—a place that they feel is unattractive, ugly, or not “normal.”  After doing this the speaker asked that the girls pray with her giving that area, which they have no control over because their bodies are changing, over to God.  She then asked God to clear the girls’ minds of the desire to be anything but themselves.  It was an amazing experience.  I opened my eyes, tears streaming down my face, to see my daughter looking up at me, tears streaming down her face.  Then I hugged her and prayed over her.  I believe it changed our relationship forever.

In the following weeks I’ve had many opportunities to remind Mattie of the things she learned and experienced at the event.  She’s battled hormones, a boy who put a mean sign on her back, a virus that caused her to miss a week of school, and then a double ear infection that caused her to miss even more.  She’s been weary and overwhelmed.  One day she said to me, “Mom, no matter what I do, I’ll never be enough.”

It broke my heart.  It also reminded me of a speaker I listened to at our denomination’s women’s retreat several years ago.   I wish I could remember her name so I could give her credit here, but I just can’t bring it to mind.  What she said made an impact on me because she spoke right to what I was feeling as a young married mom.  She said, “The world tells you you’re not enough and too much all at the same time.”

“The world tells you you’re not enough and too much

all at the same time.”

I’ve felt that.  I’ve felt like there wasn’t enough of me to go around.  Like I’d never be super mom.  Like I am doomed to fail as a mother and as a lover of Christ.  The world shoved works down my throat and asked me to “strive” to do better.  All the while I felt bombarded by the feelings that I was too “over the top,” or “too emotional,” or “too excited.”  I was not enough and yet too much.

What made things even worse was that those messages weren’t sent to me by a males-centric society, but rather, by other women!  It went deeper than just what my clothes looked like to things like how long it took me to find a Bible verse or what I chose to wear to church.  I felt like I had to constantly strive to be something I’m not—and every person had different expectations. I could never be enough.  I never felt at peace.  I still don’t, if I’m truly honest.

I remember being Mattie’s age.  It was a horrible time.  I remember sitting in my bed crying at night because the other girls at school were so cruel.  I was a hugger and I just loved everyone.  I remember my mother trying to get me to “just calm down,” and to “not wear my heart on my sleeve.”  I remember sobbing and saying, “but you’re asking me not to be me.”

“but you’re asking me not to be me.”

What I’ve been pondering this week is, “How do we as mothers do this to our daughters?”  Do I make Mattie feel like she’s not enough and yet too much?  If I’m completely honest, yes, I do that.  I don’t want her to be hurt by the legalism at her school, so I sometimes don’t let her wear what she wants—even if it fits dress code and it’s modest.  I’ve seen her respond to this by not wanting to wear her hair down so that people won’t think she’s too proud of it, or that they think she’s a “girly-girl.”

All the while, I’m telling her things like, “calm down,” “not so loud,” “act like a big girl please.”  I’m showing her that who she is, isn’t enough, and yet it’s too much.  I’m training her to do the very things that I have fought to free myself from.

I told you at the beginning of this blog that this event changed our relationship forever.  It’s starting with me.  I’m starting to say things like “If you like your hair like that, then do it,” and after checking to see if something is modest asking, “Do you feel pretty in it?  Then wear it!”  Now, I’m not quite to the point of letting her wear paisley and plaid together (because I have to teach her some decorum) but the point is, I’m trying to accept her for who she is—so that she knows she’s enough for me.

I’m trying to accept her for who she is—

so that she knows she’s enough for me.

Our Heavenly Father created each of us because He wanted our companionship.  He has a plan for our lives, and He never questions if we’re enough.  He never feels that we’re too much either—because He made us to be who we are.  He knows that we are perfect in our salvation from the blood of His precious Son.  So why do we let Satan convince us that we’re not?  Why do we let others do that to us?

That’s over at our house.  My frog catching, snake loving, horse riding, girly-girl is perfectly created by a perfect God.  It’s time I started treating her like it.

Lord, I repent of not showing Mattie her beauty that you placed in her.  Help me to see her through Your perfect eyes.  Help me to show her that whatever she does, if she does it for You she will be enough.  Thank you Lord for re-making me as a mom…I love you Lord.  Amen.

Staying Alert in Christ,

 

Megan

 

Playlist:

Jonny Diaz, “More Beautiful You”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNqQUojBg84

Casting Crowns, “All You Ever Wanted”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ea-uQFPcvaM

Big Daddy Weave, “Redeemed,” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzGAYNKDyIU

Lord, give me Your eyes for her…

Your Eyes

Last night was a rough night at our house.  We didn’t have any major mental melt-downs, thank the Lord, but we did have some turmoil.  If I’m being completely truthful, the stress started the night before.  Mattie and I came home from a fun time doing “chores” at my parents’ home (it’s hard to call them chores when Mattie loves them so much).  Any time with horses is heaven on earth for her—and we were both so wired that we didn’t fall right asleep.  This meant we woke up tired, and by the end of the school day for her and the workday for me, our fuses were short.

My plans were very well thought out and if they went as I’d hoped, I knew I’d be in great shape for the rest of the week.

After I picked her up from school, I immediately knew that the evening was not going to go as I had planned.  My plans were very well thought out and if they went as I’d hoped, I knew I’d be in great shape for the rest of the week.   I needed to sew her costume for school on Wednesday.  She could do her homework at the table where I was sewing, and she’s been wanting to cook supper lately, so I thought I’d let her!  This would give me extra time to work on her dress!

Unfortunately, that’s not how the evening went.

First, my husband hadn’t had time to get groceries before he left for work, which meant I needed to go pick them up—that was going to cut about an hour out of my plans, but hey, that’s not bad.  Then when Mattie got in the car, she announced she had 4 pages of math homework and a paper to write (because she’d forgotten about it over the weekend).  Ugh!  There goes our great evening.

I took a deep breath, and we made a plan together.  We hurried through the grocery shopping, and after doing chores when we got home, I set the timer for her to play outside for 15 minutes while I got things lined up to sew her dress.  That’s when our evening  started to fall apart…

“Mom!  I’m so stupid!”

She came in from looking for toads outside, with big bags under her eyes.  I could tell she was exhausted, but I said to her, “You can do this!”  She decided to work in my room instead of at the table so the sewing machine wouldn’t distract her.  And then the questions started.

“Mom!” came the scream from the back room, “I don’t remember how to classify this triangle!”

“Mom!  I can’t figure out this math at all!”

“Mom!  I’m so stupid!”

“Mom!  How am I supposed to write this dumb paper, when I don’t even know who this guy is!”

And it went on…with every gripe and complaint I became more and more frustrated…

My thoughts raced:

“Why can’t she just do her homework without all this.”

“I get so tired of her complaining.”

“If she’d just try before she gripes!”

“I’m never going to get this dress done!”

My exasperation escalated with every complaint.  My evening that I had mapped out was down the drain, and I was never going to get this dress done!  That’s when things exploded.

“Mom!  You don’t want to help me!  You don’t care about me at all!”  With that, she ran into her room and slammed the door.

Love

I lost my temper.  I told her she that she was ungrateful, and that she had to stay in her room and that she couldn’t cook supper and that I wasn’t sewing her dress after all because now, I had to cook supper and I couldn’t get it all done!  I’m not supermom!

I called my mom—the original super mom—and started venting.

“Mom!  Why can’t she just do her work!”

“Mom!  She’s making me crazy!”

“Mom!  I’m making this costume for her, and she won’t let me work!”

“Mom!  Will you please talk to her?”

My mother, always the peacemaker, said sure.  Before long, Mattie came out and truly apologized.  I told her, “Why don’t you take a break from your homework and start supper.”  She quietly complied, and we visited about school and about life, as I coached her cooking and continued to sew.  Later, I called Mom back.

“What did you say to her to make her stop?”

“I just told her that you both were feeling the same thing…”

“What?”

“You both were frustrated, overwhelmed, and low on time.  Once she saw that, she calmed right down.”

Wow.

How many times have I told her that she needs to think of others before herself, and she needs to show love for people despite what she may be feeling!  How many times have I prayed for God to give me His eyes for the world, and yet, I’ve not asked the same thing for my daughter?    I was so caught up in my own timeline and plans that I missed that she was feeling the exact same way.  How is it that two people going through the same exact emotions can get so angry at each other and forget that,  “since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.” (1 John 4:11)

How many times have I prayed for God to give me His eyes for the world, and yet, I’ve not asked the same thing for my daughter?

Lord, I’ve been working so hard to teach Mattie to live like You.  Help me to see her through Your eyes so I can see the big picture of her life—not just the details.  Mold me into the mom You want me to be…Amen.

 

Staying Alert in Christ,

Megan

Playlist:

“Give Me Your Eyes”  Brandon Heath:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5AkNqLuVgY

“My Own Little World” Matthew West:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9Yasgzjc0w

Burn Me Up Lord…

Fire

Photo by Sandy Johnson

I love spring in the Great Plains.  I love the look of the grass as it peeks through the blackened dirt after a field has been burned.  I love the smell of smoke in the air.  I love the muted look the smoke gives the farmlands around us when the sun shines through it.  For those of you who don’t live in the heartland, you probably don’t understand why my thoughts of spring relate so much to fire.  You see, each spring the Flint Hills light up with lines of fire.  These controlled burns destroy all the dead undergrowth left over after the cold of winter and clear the pastures of parasites.  Farmers do this so new, fresh, healthy grass can grow back in its place.  It’s a beautiful and powerful sight for those of us who live here.  

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Photo by Michelle Tessaro. Check out http://www.michelleslens.com!

Recently I realized that this practice is much like what some of us attempt to do during Lent.  Lent is a time when some Christians choose to give up something that they care about for the 40 days prior to Easter.  We do this because we want draw closer to God through our sacrifice—it’s 40 days long to remind us of the 40 days that Jesus went into the wilderness to fast and be tempted.  Every time we think of the item that we have sacrificed, we instead turn our hearts toward God and the greatest sacrifice ever.  There’s something special about this time.  It’s a time where we really evaluate what is important in our lives—and what we can do without.  It’s like spring-cleaning for our hearts:  just as the burning fields clean out the dead undergrowth that survived the winter, Lent asks us to give up things that we’ve been holding onto that aren’t good for us and we don’t need, all while drawing closer to the One and only God.  

This year, instead of giving up something I really like for Lent, God asked me to break the rules.  I decided to ask God what part of my life He wanted me to give up—what needed to be burned away.  He showed me areas I didn’t want to see.  He showed me ways I’d hurt those that I love, and asked me to give up something I didn’t even know I’d become attached to—harsh words.

Lately, I’ve been convicted that we as Christians need to behave more like Christ in the political arena.  I’ve written about this conviction in the past, but this revelation was new.  I’ve worked to tame my tongue on social media and in public, but God showed me how I’ve been harsh with my daughter.  He spoke to my troubled heart: “Don’t forget her, she’s so much more important than the world…”

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Photo by Travis Harrison

It’s like she’s standing on a cliff.  She’s teetering between the young woman she wants to be and one that is ruled by her hormones and emotions. Her behavior is, sometimes, very frustrating to me.  I find myself saying things like, “You’re being such a brat!”  and, “What’s wrong with you!”  Granted, there are much worse things that I could be saying, but the fact that even though she was acting like a brat, and she does seem to lose her mind at times, it doesn’t give me the right to point out to her what she already knows.

You see, she knows that she’s being difficult, and she doesn’t like that she is.  In her heart of hearts, she wants to be the sweet, kind, and empathetic child she used to be—but her hormones, her strong will, and her pride are keeping her from doing that right now.  

The old adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones,

but words can never hurt me,” is a lie straight from the pit of hell.

The old adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me,” is a lie straight from the pit of hell.  Scripture tells us quite the opposite.  It tells us in Proverbs 18:9 that “death and life are in the power of the tongue…”  Over and over, scripture says that our words are powerful, and we have the ability to speak good into the world or speak evil.  We can conquer demons, defeat enemies, and heal relationships with our words. My words, whether accurate or not, have power in my daughter’s life.  I can choose to speak joy, peace, and love into her life, or I can choose to push her over the cliff she’s teetering on.  And, that power rests with me.

This Lenten season, every time I’ve gotten angry or frustrated with her sass or over-reactions, I’ve turned my heart toward God and asked that He give me the words that speak life into her–instead of discouragement– while still correcting her behavior.  God is working on her.  He’s been burning down brush piles in her heart—just like He’s doing in mine.  I can’t forget that.  I need to be on her team, to be the voice that helps bring new life to the barren field left behind her anger and frustration.  I am to be there and love her unconditionally after the last ember has died off.  After all, that’s what God has done for me.  

I love spring. I love the promise of new life—eternal life.  I love how God renews the earth and my heart each year.  Thank you Lord for remaking me…Burn me up, Lord.

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Photo by Natalie Winters

Staying alert in Christ,

 

Megan

For more information about why pastures are burned: http://thepioneerwoman.com/blog/2011/05/why-we-burn-our-pastures/

Playlist:

“Speak Life” Toby Mac:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZeBv9r92VQ0

“Wonderful Words of Life”:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7x3OX6v5_o

“Words”  Hawk Nelson:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=anVweXDcxhA

“Making Me” Sidewalk Prophets:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGkmPeVpBbI

“Starts with Me” Tim Timmons:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pslWA2VRmxg

What do You want me to say, Lord?

Papa's Horses

Hello friends!  I pray that you have had a wonderful couple of weeks, as have I.  God’s been challenging me in new and exciting ways, as I continue this journey of drawing closer to Him.  I’m excited to share these new insights with you over the next few weeks, but God is still growing them in me.  So, today, instead of going terribly deep, I thought I’d share a simple, yet deeply profound discovery.  I pray it blesses you.

 This discovery started a couple of weeks ago when I was fretting (I do this way too much, don’t you!)  I had the children’s sermon in church.  I worry every time I have it because, first, I want to share something that will impact these children and perhaps give them a clear memory that God will use in their lives, and second, I want to remind the adults in the congregation of the simple, yet profound, joys that God shares with us.  These building blocks are so important.  I feel sometimes we lose track of them as we get older, and being reminded of them is a gift.   So, I feel a deep obligation to speak what God would have me speak.  In other words, I put a lot of unneeded pressure on myself.  I usually try to do an object lesson and have something to give the kids that reminds them of that lesson; however, after a long hard week, Saturday arrived and I still had no idea what I was going to teach about.

I was so tired—as I have been frequently lately—and my husband, daughter, and I were grabbing a quick bite to eat out because I didn’t want to cook.  (On a side note, my husband has taken over the cooking this week because I’m still feeling very tired.  I have to brag on him and how good he is to me.  He works the evening shift and isn’t home when we have supper, but he’s put things in the crockpot, pre-cooked meat, and even purchased all our groceries this week!  I am one blessed woman!)  When I shared my dilemma, Mattie, my sweet daughter who is incredibly horse crazy, piped up: “You could teach about Muley!”  Muley is a horse her Papa is giving her at the beginning of summer break.  I laughed because I knew she was going to say this.  We don’t go a single day without at least 15 questions about her new horse.  My response to her suggestion: “Mattie, I know you love Muley, but how can I share about God through that?”

Isn’t it so amazing how God works?  Jason said, “I’m sure you can think of something that horses do that you can use to teach the kids about God.”  I paused, and asked God, “What do you want me to say Lord?”  I immediately got the picture of an old rickety bridge not far from my childhood home, and a memory surfaced.

When I was young, not much older than my daughter is now, I used to ride my horse Chata down the road by our home.  About two miles down this road was a very old bridge.  The bridge was low to the water and often when it rained the water would wash over the top of it.  This made holes in it where the cement and gravel had washed away, and you could see the creek beneath.

One afternoon in the spring I was riding Chata, and we came upon this bridge.  The water was up, but it wasn’t rushing.  It was more like a gentle stream over the top of the road.  We’d been here often enough that I knew where to cross to avoid any washed out portions of the bridge.  I clucked at Chata, but she balked.   I couldn’t get her to go through the water.   After a couple attempts, I got off her back and walked her across the creek—getting myself wet in the process, but earning her trust.  We came back to that creek many more times as I got older, and she never balked again.  She trusted that I knew where to lead her and she would be safe.

I once asked my dad why horses feared water like they do.  He explained that horses have little to no depth perception.  A horse can see the water, but it can’t see how deep it is.  So, while I could see that the water was only a couple of inches deep and not dangerous, she couldn’t.  She didn’t know that she’d be safe until I got off  her back and led her through her trial.

God whispered, “That just like you.”  Immediately I saw the world through Chata’s eyes.  With God as my rider, guiding me through the crags and snares of life, I’ve learned to trust His design.  But, oh, how many times have I balked.  I come across a trial, and I can’t see the depth of it.  I can’t tell if I’ll make it through to the other side, or if it will swallow me whole.  But, God can.  He knows where the holes are.  He knows how deep it is and how long I’ll be in it.  I just have to learn to trust him—like Chata learned to trust me.  How many times has He climbed out of the saddle to walk beside me and coax me through life?  How many times have I slowed a blessing because of my fear and unbelief?  I need to completely surrender control to my Rider, and trust that He will keep me safe.

Amazing.  God always has a plan.  It’s a blessing to have a horse-crazy daughter after all.  The neatest thing is that I remembered that my sweet Chata, who passed away my freshman year in college, is the grandmother to Mattie’s Muley.  How precious is our God.  Things have a way of coming full circle.  The blessings from the Lord are immense and beyond my understanding.

Lord, thank you for giving me such wonderful reminders of who You are.  Thank you for being a faithful friend and rider. I surrender control to You and trust that, even when I don’t know the outcome, You do.  You give me so much more than I deserve.  I love You.   Amen.

Staying Alert in Christ,

Megan

Playlist:

“You Lead” Jamie Grace http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JFmSzL2ppvg

“Keep Making Me” Sidewalk Prophets http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGkmPeVpBbI

“Speak Life”  Toby Mac http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZeBv9r92VQ0

“Love Take Me Over” Steven Curtis Chapin http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8DiZhNVu1I

Why don’t people get Your grace, Lord…

Train up a child

Over our busy Christmas I had the opportunity to sit down with my mother, brother, and his beautiful wife and visit. This doesn’t happen often in our family–that we’re all in the same place, and we have time to just visit.  My brother lives three hours away from us to the east, and my mother and father live two and a half hours away to the south.  So we really only see each other on birthdays and holidays.  So, this time was precious; however, it became stressful to me very quickly.  My brother’s and my relationship has always been a bit strained.  We’re just different enough that getting along wasn’t always easy.  I’m betting I’m not alone in this, as it’s very common among siblings.

 Our discussion was unusual in that my brother and his wife were discussing their faith—something they don’t do often around me because I can be overbearing and opinionated, like my dad.  So the fact that they opened up was great, and my reaction to what they said will probably stop them from doing it again anytime soon, which makes me sad.  (I really need to learn to control my reactions, but I digress)  We were discussing grace—you would think a safe topic as everyone loves grace, and we are all three saved—and when it became “real” to them that they didn’t have to work their way into heaven.  I was shocked to find that they had only recently made this realization.  I immediately said to my brother, “How can you have sat through all of Pastor Bodenhammer’s sermons growing up and not have gotten grace!”  Not a good response.  My brother’s face immediately changed from enthusiasm over this new and wonderful revelation, to a shut-off, defensive wall.  I realized once again that I had blown a great opportunity to connect with him.   Why is it that we so often miss the opportunities to bless our own family?  I could get into analyzing sibling relationships, but I won’t, because that’s not the point of this blog.

 However, this whole discussion got me to thinking (more like ranting, and yes, I need to work on that too) about why people who have the same upbringing, sit in the same pew, go to the same youth groups, and gave their lives to the same God, don’t know Him the same way.  How did my brother, who was saved the Sunday before I was, hear doctrine when I heard grace!?  I also got to thinking…if my brother didn’t get it when he was raised just like I was, then there’s a chance my daughter might not get it either…and “what do I need to do to make sure she ‘gets’ grace?”  So, like I do when I’m not sure about something, I started doing some research.  I discovered this isn’t a new problem.  One of my favorite Baptist preachers, Charles Spurgeon, gave a sermon about this very thing on May 8th 1887:

 “The people to whom I am referring really listen to what the preacher has to say; they are attentive, and they seek to retain in their memories the truths he preaches. They even talk when they are at home of the striking passages, if such there be, in what they have heard. You would suppose that such persons would get a blessing from the gospel; yet they do not.” (http://www.newsforchristians.com/spurgeon/chs2411.html)

 Spurgeon goes on to discuss this phenomenon and then speaks directly to the hearer in hopes of breaking through the “thick scales” on their eyes.  However, I’m not going to reteach what has already been taught.  I do recommend you take a look at the sermon, like most of his writings, it’s insightful.  I do want to spend some time analyzing the issue.

 First, after I’d left the room, my brother confessed to my mother that he didn’t remember any sermon that was taught when he was a child. The only thing he really remembered was a visual using a glass of water and an egg about baptism.  What my brother heard was a message on why we believe in immersion (doctrine), and what I heard that day was a message on the internal transformation salvation brings us.  So that leads me to my first conclusion.

 Not everyone learns the same way.  This is a “well duh” statement, but it’s something I think the church is missing.  Educators have known for years that we need to meet the needs of every learner in the classroom—we need to teach them they way that they learn best.  However, many churches only teach from the perspective of one learning style.  I’m a VERY auditory learner.  I learn best by listening—which is why I remember so much from the sermons of my childhood.  My brother is much more visual—which is why he remembers the example of the egg and water, and not much else.  We don’t process information the same way.  I can walk into any church and be blessed by a biblically based sermon.  He may not get as much out of it, because he doesn’t function like that.  The church he attends now, has video, light shows, a darkened auditorium, and active powerpoints to follow during the sermon.  I find this distracting and, truthfully, annoying.  But, he’s learning and growing there!  When taking our children to church, we need to be aware of how they learn, and if the service doesn’t fit their learning style, we need to augment it!

 So many times, we parents quote Proverbs 22:6, “Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it” and we see it that we have to teach the kids, but when going back to the original Hebrew, the word train actually is the same word that is used for the process of cleaning out a babies mouth after birth.  The word means “create an environment for life.”  To quote Mark Hamby, founder of Lamp Light ministries:

 “Training our children requires more than simply providing an education. We must create an environment of captivating learning, with experiences that motivate them to passionately pursue worthy goals. External rewards will not suffice; motivation must be intrinsic. We must help to ignite a fire from within so that the child’s passion becomes the driving force behind persevering practice that leads to the achievement of excellence. Turning passivity into passion by providing experiences that cultivate their taste for what is Godly, great, and glorious is the essence of true Biblical ‘training.’”

 So, who is responsible for this training?  If you’re the parent, the buck stops with you.  Our job is not to just take our child to church and hope that it sinks in, or to allow our child to hear our discussions of the sermons.  This only works for kids who have active listening skills.  Our job is to stand it the gap for our kids.  If we attend a church that doesn’t have visual or kinesthetic learning as part of the service, then we need to provide that.  Show your child how to take notes during a sermon, or draw a picture with them that teaches the lessons of that day.  Be present, and active.  Don’t just assume because they heard it they learned it.  My daughter is much like me in that she’s very auditory.  She loves church services, but doesn’t enjoy Sunday school as much.  The reason is her learning style.  She soaks up the message in the sermon, often interrupting by asking me questions about what our pastor is teaching (we’ve fixed this by giving her a notebook and when she has a question she has to write it down for discussion after the service).  But, Sunday school is trying.  It’s a lot of reading, and with her dyslexia it’s frustrating for her.  And, although she loves to draw, she doesn’t like structured drawing.  She would much rather be asked to create a picture about the sermon on a blank piece of paper than to have to draw what someone told her to.  So, what’s my job?  I ask her questions about her lesson.  We draw pictures—which I proudly place on our fridge.  I’m active in her learning.

 While sitting in a service, I think there’s something that’s even deeper that we sometimes miss.  We assume that our children “got” the message because we did.  We forget that they are not adults, and that they process things differently.  I’ve noticed this a lot with my daughter.  I’ll visit with her about the sermon and she pulled something completely different out of it than I did.  This is good, but it shows that we need to assume nothing, and actually converse with our children—every day—about the things God is doing in our lives.  If we don’t, we may find that they’re in their mid-thirties and just now “getting” grace—or worse, they may never get it at all.

 Lord, help me to see beyond the day-to-day and see the eternal.  Thank you for my brother’s growth.  I praise you that his walk has become one of joy and service to You.  Help me to show my daughter Your grace and love everyday.  I want her to know You Lord.  Amen

Playlist:

Chris Tomlin, Amazing Grace (My Chains are Gone,) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jbe7OruLk8I

Mark Shultz, I Am, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hILaSh78yHQ

Casting Crowns, Stained Glass Masquerade, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzKOrlPuWzo

Staying Alert in Christ,

Megan

Lord, how do I keep Christmas in my heart…

Christmas state of mind

“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.”  –Charles Dickens

There are two seasons that I love.  Christmas and Easter.  I love the emotions both bring to the surface of my consciousness.  I love that both center around our church events and that both are centered in Christ.  However, lately I’ve felt burdened about the role I allow Christ to play in our Christmas traditions.

 When I was in college learning to be a teacher, we often discussed how to help our students to fully grasp deep concepts.  One such approach was the “Contributions Approach.”  In this approach we would talk about important issues and events around the holidays or birthdays that celebrated them.  For instance, teachers would teach a unit about the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. and his important contribution to our society around his birthday each year.  This approach is an “easy” way to discuss important events and topics while keeping your students on schedule with their pre-planned curriculum.  Many teachers use this approach, and have for many generations.  The problem is, it doesn’t work very well.

 The “Contributions Approach” to teaching doesn’t offer depth.  It gives your student a glimpse into the window of a subject, but because the point is to be able to stay on track with other curriculum, it usually doesn’t last more than a couple days and then the teacher moves on to the “more important” curriculum to keep the class on track for the year.  Please don’t get me wrong.  I’m not condemning teachers who do this, have done this, or will do this in the future. The truth is, it’s easy, and it does garner results—but not the results it would have, had the teacher had–or taken–the time to do things a little differently.

 Isn’t this what we do at Christmas? We have so many wonderful traditions.  It’s a time for family, friends, and communion.  It’s a time when we cherish those around us.  And, during this precious time, we pause to remember “The reason for the season.”

Wait, did I say that right?

We pause.  We break from our normally scheduled programing to think of Christ.  Wow.  That doesn’t seem right.  We too just give our children a glimpse into the window of what Christ did when he visited our little world, but we don’t give Him anymore time than we have to, so we can keep on track with our other, more important, activities.

 When we celebrate our daughter’s birthday every year, we make it an event.  She usually has two to three get-togethers—a “friend” party, and a get-together for both sides of her family.  We spend time planning out her favorite foods, her favorite activities, and we take time to thank God for Mattie being brought into our lives.  What if we did this for Jesus?  After all, it’s His birthday.  What if we made everything we did about Him instead of about us?

 What would that look like you ask?   It might not look that different.  Maybe instead of meeting for Christmas Eve service and then leaving to meet with your family, you take time at your meal to Welcome Jesus at your table.  Maybe you share your favorite part of the Christmas story and why.  (I think our kids would definitely benefit from hearing the adults be humble and share how Christ has touched them).  Perhaps it’s making an extra spot at your Christmas dinner for a family in need who can’t afford a dinner at all.  However, it definitely is taking personal time to connect with that baby in the manger.

 At a youth event this last year, I heard a speaker talking about Jesus coming to live with us.  I thought he was going to say something generic like, “How would you live if Jesus came to stay at your house?”  But this speaker took a different approach.  He asked why we haven’t signed the mortgage of our house over to God.  That we aren’t to just give him a room and a place at the table—our job is to surrender everything to Him, who was willing to surrender everything for us.  That’s a radical mindset and it will change the world.  Imagine if this Christmas we did that.  Imagine if we didn’t just read the Christmas story to our kids, but we connected with them about the depth that was in it…then imagine if we didn’t just do this at Christmas or at Easter.  Imagine if we did it all year round.  How would that change us?  How would it change our kids?  How would that change the world?

Lord, this Christmas, I want to be sold out to you.  I want to make You the priority and not just fit You in where I can.  This Christmas let my daughter see how much I love you.  Let my radical faith be a witness so You can transform her life and the world—just like you did with that sweet baby so many years ago.  Help me to honor Christmas in my heart and keep it all year.  Amen

I’m unpacking my burdens, Lord.

I haven’t written in a couple of weeks.  In that time I’ve done a lot of packing and unpacking.  I packed a suitcase for my daughter to go on her first trip without her parents—she went to Amarillo, Texas, to the National Finals Ranch Rodeo as a birthday present from my parents.  I packed a change of clothes for my husband and myself to change into after the funeral of a dear uncle who died in a house fire.  I packed clean clothes and toiletries as we went to use the showers at a friend’s house when our plumbing sprung multiple leaks…again.  I packed to visit my brother and his sweet family in Kansas City, and this week, I’ll pack again for visits to family for Thanksgiving.  I think you can tell why I haven’t written in a couple weeks.

 It’s amazing to me how God uses simple—some would say meaningless—tasks and speaks meaning into them.  I have felt so burdened carrying around these  suitcases seemingly everywhere I go.   And, like He does so many times, God used that feeling to show me something about myself.  I’ve become quite the pack mule.  I’ve been carrying around many burdens that are only hurting me.  I’ve been holding onto heartache from a family member who continues to do things that are, from my perspective, hurtful.  I’ve been carrying the weight of my daughter’s whole future (don’t all mom’s do this…we worry about how we’re going to prepare our children for the world).  I’ve been carrying around the fear that, even with four jobs and faithful parents, we’ll starve.  I’ve been carrying around unforgiveness toward a dear friend who betrayed my trust.  Yep.  I’m a pack mule.

 One afternoon, while I was heading down to do chores in the barn, I was having a real gripe-fest of a prayer.  I was complaining about one of these situations to God.  I just couldn’t understand why this person continued to behave the way she does.  I was venting…and God whispered.  “That’s not your burden, Megan.”  I opened my heart and listened more deeply.  He said, “Her actions are her burdens to bear…not yours.”  How many times have I done this Lord!  I borrow trouble, or worry about all of the things other people are saying and doing.  I can’t control her.  She will reap the consequences of her actions, and that has nothing to do with me.  Yikes—that realization was a little humbling, but mostly freeing.

 A Bible study leader of mine taught once on the “Laws of the Harvest.”  I believe she was using Adrian Rogers’ template.  She said that there were three laws.  First, you will reap what you sow.  Simple enough, but it’s true.  Our actions have consequences.  Second, you will reap more than you sowed.  Yikes.  And third, you will reap later than you sowed.  How does all this fit in with me being a pack mule?  I have enough reaping and sowing of my own without worrying about what someone else is doing.  I’ve seen and done this so many times.  I’ve chosen to worry and bear burdens like I have control over the harvest of another person.  I don’t.  God does.

 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Matthew 11: 28-30

 I have a lot to learn.  I’ve read that verse so many times.  I’ve often thought, “Wouldn’t it be nice if I could actually do that?”  And, “What would that feel like?”  But I knew I didn’t truly understand it.  Until now.

 I’ve been experiencing a real revival in my heart.  God’s been doing amazing things.  He’s been breaking down barriers and building up truth in their place.  I’ve been seeing the world differently.  Very differently.  So, I’m unpacking.  I’m unpacking lies that I’ve bought into.  I’m seeking His truth instead of simply believing what other Christians have said.  I’m digging deeply into His word and asking the hard questions.   I’m evaluating my beliefs and asking “should I believe this Lord?”  I’ve asked Him to lead me in my studies.  I’m looking for a radical, life changing, faith.

 The other day my daughter and I saw a homeless person standing on the side of the road.  We see them a lot, and Mattie always wants to give them money.  I always say, “We just don’t have the money.”   And, “ We don’t know what they’ll use the money on.”  This time, as I passed, Mattie said to me again, “Why can’t we give him money, Mommy?”  I started  my regular speech, but I felt my stomach clench…which is a sure sign that God wants me to do something different.  I started praying, “God, what do you want me to do?”  I had a five dollar bill in my purse.  Not much.  But God was telling me to give it to the man.  So, I turned around and headed back into the parking lot.  Mattie exclaimed, “Are we giving him money?!”  I said, “Yes, God wants me to.”  I rolled down my window, and I saw a man who looked a lot my own husband.  He looked humiliated.  I immediately felt a surge of empathy.  He said, “Thank you so much ma’am.”  I smiled and said, “it’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got.”  As I drove away I began to weep.  Mattie didn’t understand and thought I was worried, “ Mom, what if he uses it to buy drugs?”  What came out of my mouth blew my mind, as it wasn’t even on my mind. “I’m not responsible for what he does with the money.  I’m responsible to God, and He wanted me to give that man my last $5.”  It was freeing and powerful.  I finally understood what Jesus meant when He asked us to “take his yoke.”  He offers such freedom, if we’ll just learn from Him.

 So, Lord, help me to keep unpacking my burdens.  Show me Your truth.  Show me Your will.  Show me how You want me to treat others.  I want the seeds I sow to reap a good harvest for You.

This week’s playlist:

Casting Crowns “All You Ever Wanted”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ea-uQFPcvaM

Laura Story “I Can Just Be Me” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0VRUU8UBXCk

Big Daddy Weave “Redeemed” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzGAYNKDyIU

Mark Schultz “All Things Possible”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BrW2Xwkhyso

Jason Gray “More Like Falling in Love” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXHxpLvv2y8

come to me

Lord, It’s Time to Clean House…

Create in me a clean heart

I hate cleaning.  I admit it.  I loathe it.  There is true enmity between dishes and me.  It is the thing I put off the most, and the thing I most need to do.  I have to be very intentional about making myself keep up on my cleaning duties.  Most of the time I fail, but I give it a valiant effort.

This last weekend I set about the task of getting two things done.  I wanted to get my house, “back in order,” as I like to say.  In other words, I had a week’s worth of dishes and laundry and clutter to deal with.  And, I wanted to start to clean out our basement.  Ugh.  The basement.  Two years ago it flooded.  We stacked up furniture in a dry corner and pulled up carpet in an effort to save as much as we could.  That time we did, but since then it’s flooded every third time it’s rained.  It’s awful.  So, I knew I need to just pitch most of what’s down there, and like all housework, I’ve been putting it off.

When my husband and I went down to start organizing things, we knew we had a big chore ahead of us.  What we found was not as bad as I’d imagined, but a whole lot of work.  The biggest issue is the mildew.  It’s growing in a lot of places and it’s going to be a battle getting rid of it.   It’s attached itself to things we treasure and we’ll have to clean.    We’ve lost a lot of things—nothing that can’t be replaced but still it was hard sorting through some of it.  It also hit me, “why have I been holding onto this stuff?”  Much of it I haven’t used in years, and it really didn’t need to be kept to begin with.  I just didn’t want to see it go.

The song “Whatever You’re Doing” by Sanctus Real kept running through my head as we took on this monstrous task.  The specific lyrics that resonated were:

“Time to face up,
Clean this old house
Time to breathe in and let everything out
That I’ve wanted to say for so many years
Time to release all my held back tears”

As I worked on the two cleaning tasks I undertook this weekend, I got to thinking, “What sins and issues have I been putting off dealing with?”   I began to ask God to show me things that I had been avoiding cleaning out in my heart.  And, just like I asked Him to, He delivered.

The biggest sin He showed me just reared its ugly head a few days ago, but it was characteristic of something I don’t like admitting I struggle with—my temper.  This last flare-up was about something very dear to me—my Bible.  You see, since I’ve been working four jobs, I’ve had to grab my quiet time on the go.  So I’ve kept my Bible in my car’s passenger seat so it’s easy to grab.  The other night my daughter left something in the backseat, and for reasons that make no sense to me, she opened the front passenger door and climbed across the backseat to get it.  Her hands full, she carelessly didn’t close the passenger door behind her.  The result was about 6 barn cats climbing all over the seats.  And to top that off a thunderstorm came through.  The seat was drenched…and so was my Bible.  I have years of notes in the margins, and memories that go with them stored up in that volume.  And it was drenched.  I suppose I should thank the barn cats for setting off the warning lights or I’d have never gone out to check it until morning—by that time my Bible would have been ruined.  When I came back in, I was heartbroken.  I sat down and cried that something that was so precious was damaged—at the time I believed beyond repair.  (After a lot of work, I was able to salvage it.)  What made me mad though wasn’t that my daughter had carelessly caused this catastrophe, but rather her response to it.  She said it, “wasn’t her fault.”  I blew up.  I chewed her up one side and down the other.  I hurt her feelings the way mine were hurt.  I was so wrong.  I damaged her because something I loved was damaged.  How wrong of me.

God began to show me that, even though she was wrong in what she did and said, so was I.  My overreaction did not give her a good role model for dealing with adversity.  Instead, I was showing her that throwing a fit when something upsets me is acceptable.  It’s not.

“It’s time for healing time to move on
It’s time to fix what’s been broken too long
Time make right what has been wrong
It’s time to find my way to where I belong”

When we avoid sin it begins to turn into a similar scene as my basement.  We hold on to things we don’t really need—things that can cause damage if they’re left for too long.  They begin to mildew and break down.  They aren’t any good to us, so why do we keep avoiding dealing with them?  The worst part is that the sin we’re holding onto and not confronting can cause damage to other things that are of worth.  The mildew of it grows on the things we treasure—like relationships with our family, and with the Lord.

Avoiding sin is easy.  We just keep living upstairs and keep it up and running, but underneath, in the basement of our hearts, it’s still there, it’s not going away, and it’s destroying us little by little.

“Time for a milestone
Time to begin again
Reevaluate who I really am
Am I doing everything to follow your will
or just climbing aimlessly over these hills
So show me what it is you want from me
I give everything I surrender…”

Lord, show me what I can do to fight off this sin nature that I detest so much and avoid.  I surrender…”whatever You’re doing inside of me…You’re up to something bigger than me.  Larger than life, something heavenly”  Let me be brave enough to say, “It’s time to face up.  Clean this old house.  Time breathe in and let everything out”

Staying Alert in Christ,

Megan

Retreating from God

I made a harsh realization this weekend.  Even though I’ve been closer to God in the last few months than I have been in years, even though this season in my life has me leaning on Him more than ever– I’ve been retreating from Him. I’ve been shying away when He convicts me in one certain area.  This area is tender…any mention of it makes my heart quiver.  I’m still very broken.  So, I’ve built up a shell around my hurt, kind of like a scab, or scales.  The problem is that the scales have gotten in the way of the wound really healing.  What I’ve done to protect myself has only made my pain deeper and last longer than it really needed to…and that all changed this past weekend.

Every year, since my first year of marriage, I have attended a ladies retreat with my church friends.  I’ll never forget the first year: strapped for cash, ladies whom I hardly knew offered to pay my way, offered to bless me.  I was too proud to accept their kindness though, and I ended up scrounging up the money to go.  I was so blessed by the experience.  I don’t even remember who the speaker was or what she spoke about, but I do remember going back to my cabin in tears and those same sweet ladies ministering to a very scared newlywed.  I just love these ladies.   I can’t speak enough about how having them in my life has changed me, blessed me…they’ve discipled me.

This year is my thirteenth year going to Retreat.  Every year I come planning to be renewed and loved on by my Heavenly Father, and every year He shows up.  I prayed as I entered beautiful Rock Springs that He would show up again this year.   I prayed that I would be His vessel if others needed help.  I prayed that I would be renewed.  It’s been such a hard year, and I needed to retreat.  I immediately felt the presence of the Holy Spirit speaking to my soul…I felt Him whispering a love song to me. I settled into my rest and was full of Joy to be at a place that has been a spiritual renewal for me for so long…and then, my sin nature reared its ugly head.

When I arrived at our cabin, I discovered all of the beds were already taken.  Frustrated, I went from room to room trying to find a spot for me and my best friend, who wasn’t able to arrive until later in the evening.  My frustration must have been pretty evident because one of the ladies from our group came to my rescue and helped me make up a rollaway bed in the living room next to a pull-out couch.  The thoughts rolling through my brain weren’t nice and are not worth repeating.  I’m working four jobs to make ends meet right now, and I was so aggravated that the fee I’d had to save, scrimp, and go without meals for didn’t even get me a bed.  I’m just glad I kept my cool.  I texted my friend, “I’m grumpy about [not having a bed], so it’s your job to make me thankful I’m here…K!”  I was trying to make light of the situation.  Her response, “We can deal!  Guess that means you will have to stay up with me in the main room till everyone goes to sleep.  LOL!”  I’m so glad I have a friend who understands me.  She knew I needed her to not empathize but to tell me to grow up.  It’s a real blessing to have a friend like that.

I wish this was the end of my grumpiness, but it wasn’t.  When I arrived at the dining hall, I discovered that one of the women who had treated me so terribly at my last job was at Retreat as well.  There are four ladies that I worked with who sinned terribly against me, and one of them was here!  At my retreat!  At the retreat I’d faithfully attended every year of my marriage.   She was like the evil sidekick to my arch nemesis, and she was here!  I felt my back tighten, my shoulders hunch, and the scales around my pain shift into protective layers.

I left the dining hall hardly speaking.  I probably would have been muttering had I spoken at all.  But no one asked me to, thankfully, and I quietly found my seat.  The praise team entered and I obligingly stood.  I was grumbling in my spirit to God.  This is retreat!  I’m supposed to be getting my spiritual tank filled.  “God, I can’t focus on you when she’s here.  My back is going to go out on that stinking rollaway too!  I shouldn’t have come!  She’s probably watching me right now, waiting for me to look like an idiot praising you!  She’s probably watching to see when I cry and when I don’t.  She wants to see me hurt.  She’s evil!  God why is she here!  This is so unfair!”  Then, the words I’d been mechanically singing broke through my tantrum.

“This is my prayer in the fire,

in weakness or trial or pain,

there is a faith proved of more worth than gold,

so refine me Lord through the flames.”

And the Chorus,

“I will bring praise,

I will bring praise,

no weapon formed against me shall remain…”

God spoke to my hurt.  “Child, I know you are hurt.  I am angry you are in pain.  My pain is greater than yours because not only were you hurt, but, those who injured you did it out of their own pain.”  And then, “You are here because I need to strip you of your scales.   You have to heal if you are to complete the tasks I have for you.  I can heal you, but you have to let me tear the scales from your wounds.”  I was sobbing before our speaker even entered the stage.  God impressed upon me the image of Eustace Scrubb in C.S. Lewis’ The Dawn Treader.  Where he’d been turned into a dragon and Aslan had to tear the scales from his body in order for him to be restored.  It was quite an image.  I prayed, “Lord, if this is what I must do, I have faith that You will do what I need.”

Since the time that I decided to leave my last job, I felt like I had to prove that I was right.  God has told me I was, but I felt that I needed the world to know it too.  He taught me so much this weekend.  It was a divine appointment. I’ve been frustrated because my husband, who has been amazingly supportive of me, hasn’t continued to let me vent to him about my hurt.  He has asked me to forgive them…but whenever I tried, I started going down a laundry list of all the sins they’d committed against me and my anger and bitterness would come up and I would quit praying for them and start complaining about them.  I have been trying to practice the principle of forgiving a sin 70 X 7 times, but I’m failing.  God showed me that I didn’t have to win.  I needed to be broken.  I can’t change them.  They have their own crosses, crosses of their own making to bear, and it’s not my job to fix them, or to make them pay.  I prayed that He erase the laundry list of sins they’ve committed against me from my head.  Little by little, God tore each scale away this weekend.  He stripped me bare of my bitterness and anger.

So much more happened this weekend than I can fit into this blog.   First of all, my back didn’t go out on the rollaway, and we even found a bed for my dearest friend.  She also continued to not let me wallow in my frustrations and proved, yet again, why she is my confidant.  Best of all, the messages the speaker, Lynda Randle, gave spoke right into my pain.  She recently went through loss and pain, and she shared from that.  Sunday’s final message was on healing broken relationships…talk about a God thing.

I didn’t go to Retreat planning to have my scales ripped from my spirit.  I went planning to be renewed.  But God knew best.  He knew that while at Retreat He could stop my retreat from Him.  As the last verse of that precious praise song went, “This is my prayer in the harvest, when favor and providence flow, I know I’m filled to be emptied again, The seed I’ve received I will sow.”  Thank you Lord for giving me fresh seeds to sow this weekend.  I’m now ready to accept the blessings you so graciously want to bestow upon me.  I’m empty Lord, fill me up.

Staying Alert in Christ,

Megan

Here are some photos of our beautiful Retreat.

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