Our Example Matters

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I remember the scene perfectly: me, sitting in a scratchy dress squished into a hard-wood pew, the thread-worn olive-green cushions meant to protect my rump and keep me comfortable only making me itch more.  Looking up to see my larger-than-life father in the pew beside me with his brown hard-backed bible in his hands.  He hung on every word the pastor said.  He drank it all in.  I tried to do the same, but it was very hard with the amount of chaffing going on.  I caught bits and pieces of the lessons that so enamored my dad.  I knew Dad would hash and rehash the message with Mom on the way home and through the coming week.  I knew that, if I listened, I would garner much more knowledge than one sermon could possibly do on its own—after all, I was being raised by the two best teachers in the world—or at least I thought so.

There are so many things my parents taught me over the years.  The argument could be made that the most vital lesson they taught me was to think.  They never took a sermon, book, movie, or newscast at face value.  They always looked at things from multiple perspectives and then weighed what they learned against the Word.  I received an education far beyond what I would have learned just sitting in a pew or reading a book.  I learned how to reason, where priorities should be placed—in the Word, and most importantly that I don’t have to agree with someone else to still love them and learn from them.  My parents didn’t always agree with the sermons they heard in church, but I never heard them cutting others down.  However, they discussed what was taught and evaluated it by what God has said.

I miss those car rides home.  I miss those discussions.  I miss the evaluation that was granted to me second-hand.  However, now I get to do the same thing for my daughter.  Mattie is asking the hard questions, “Mom, if God really loves my friends, why does he allow them to suffer?”  “Mom, I just want him to be happy.  Is it wrong if what makes him happy is a sin?”  “Mom, is it okay to be angry at God that my friend was hurt?”  Tough questions—questions where black-and-white answers are sometimes more harmful than helpful.  Instead of giving her a canned answer, we evaluate every situation.  We weigh what God said in His word against what the world is saying she should do.  We talk a lot about God’s heart and His Grace.  In today’s world, we can no longer simply pour the Word into our children and expect that they know how to use it.  Our children are faced with painful situations where, if they don’t know God personally, they are not going to impact their culture for Him—but rather poison it against Him.  We cannot send kids out into the world without preparing them to deal with its trials, pains, and heartaches.

Teaching children that they should be seen and not heard, telling children that they have to blindly follow, and forcing our faith on our children doesn’t lead our children to trust God—or us.  It leads to rebellion. Leading our children through the Word with love, admitting we don’t have all the answers, praying with our children, asking our children about their own prayer life, encouraging them to ask the hard questions, having a relationship with our children that is built on respect is how we show our children the real heart of God.  He is not their dictator, but their Father.  He asks us to “come, let us reason together,” in Isaiah 1:18.  He doesn’t ask for us to blindly follow someone we don’t know.  He asks us to have a relationship with Him and to have faith in Him—even when we don’t understand or agree with what we see.  That is love.  That is who God is.  That is what it means to be a Christian.  Our children learn how to follow God from watching us follow Him.  They learn how to interact with God by watching us interact with Him.  Lord help us be the examples they need.

To my daughter’s husband…

It’s been so very long since I’ve written.  Things have been very busy in my little world, but I haven’t forgotten about you!  If you want an update on my life, check out the “about me” tab!  It’s good to be back to writing!

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Little Miss Mattie is growing up.  It used to be that I’d blink and it felt like she’d grown two inches, but now it’s different in a heart wrenching and frightening way.  She’s not only growing up in height (which is getting substantial—she’s already passed her grandmas!)  But she’s growing up in maturity too.

She’s stuck in that in-between world of having adult thoughts, teenage emotions, and childlike desires.

She’s a tween.

I’ve always felt that the older she gets the more I’ll be able to relate to her.  I work with teenagers and have a deep passion for impacting this culture through that work.  There are many times I feel more connected to the younger generations than I do with adults—probably because I spend so much more time with them!  So, you can imagine my surprise when, as Mattie’s grown closer to the age I’m so comfortable teaching, a switch hasn’t flipped that made us instantly relate to each other.   If anything, I feel like the void has grown.   Our relationship  has been a struggle. Hormones and emotions have run amuck.  Feelings and things have been broken.  I hurt for her and what she’s going through.  I remember how it feels.  She’s grasping for anyway to have some semblance of control.  She feels ugly, unwanted, unworthy—too much, yet not enough.  She has crushes on boys—something she doesn’t even know how to process.  She knows that she should only seek to please God, but when a boy notices her, her heart melts.  I see it.  I understand it.  Believe me.  I get where she’s at.  I think all women do.  That’s why I’m going to address this blog to the boy who will one day win her heart.  Because, like it or not, she’s going to believe him much more than she believes me.

I will never forget that moment when I was holding her in my arms as an infant and I realized that I would die to save her—kill to protect her.

To my one day son-in-law,

First, I get that this is bit creepy me writing to you.  But, I’m in a desperate place.  You have to understand the depth to which I love my daughter.  There are no words for the deep well of emotions that encompass all that she is to me.  I will never forget that moment when I was holding her in my arms as an infant and I realized that I would die to save her—kill to protect her.  It’s a humbling experience—especially when you realize that those emotions are just a drop in the bucket to what God feels for us.  But, I digress.  The reason I’m writing you is that you will have an immeasurable impact on her life one day.

Please know that I’m praying for you, and have been since Mattie was a baby.  I have a slip of paper in my Bible where I’ve written down all of the attributes I hope you will have.  I know you won’t be perfect, and I know that God does amazing things through broken people.   I have prayed for your salvation, for your purity, for your chivalry, and so much more.  These general concepts have been my main focus, but I’ve also asked God to grow in you the things that only He can know that my sweet girl needs.

Because, she does need things from you.  She needs to know that you think she’s beautiful.  I see her face drop when she sees a beautiful actress or model.  I see her look down at her body and start nit-picking every “flaw.”   I can tell her every second of every day that she is the most beautiful thing God has created, and she won’t believe me.  The world is telling her otherwise.  Her peers are telling her otherwise.  She is telling herself otherwise.  But, when you look in her eyes and tell her that she is the most beautiful thing to you, it will make her heart soar.  Whether I like it or not, I can’t win the battle that’s waging inside her.  I can teach her to be a strong and godly woman, but she’ll still doubt.  She’ll still fear.  But when you tell her, it will change everything.  It may take some convincing, but don’t ever stop telling her.  You were created to complete her.  You were created to love her like Christ loves her.  He adores every part of her and created her just the way she is.  Tell her every day how beautiful she is.

She gets so frustrated with her dyslexia, and she gets so tired of fighting so hard.  Know that God created both of you for a purpose, and I know that he will equip both of you to those means, but it won’t be easy.

Empower her.  Dream with her, and help her achieve those dreams.  She doesn’t know what she’s capable of.  She gets so frustrated with her dyslexia, and she gets so tired of fighting so hard.  Know that God created both of you for a purpose, and I know that he will equip both of you to those means, but it won’t be easy.  Build her confidence with your confidence in her.  However, confident people can have egos that get in the way.  Don’t forget that you’re in this together.  Don’t ever “put her in her place.”   You have become one and you should be each other’s best cheerleaders.  Stand with her—even if she’s wrong.  She needs your support.  Take the adventure that life is together.  Be each other’s helpmates.

Be honest with her.  Tell her when she’s messing up.  Call her on it when temper and ego get out of line.  Trust me, she’ll do the same for you!  Temper her ire with your love.  But, most of all, never fail to be on her side.  Fight for her at every juncture of your life.  Be her knight.   She will be willing to grow when you love her—even when she’s wrong.

Don’t let the scars of your past taint the future you can have.  Dare to love recklessly.  Every girl wants to be loved with nothing held back.  Don’t hold a part of yourself back from her.  Don’t try to do what society says.  Don’t try to protect yourself from being hurt.  You will be hurt, but know this:  Strength and beauty come from the deepest scars.  Love her knowing the pain that it could cost you and do it anyway.  She is worth that.  After all, isn’t that what God did for us?

Finally, don’t listen to me.

Finally, don’t listen to me.  Don’t listen to your parents either.  I know that sounds crazy, but parents have plans and agendas.  I will always love her, and I will try to do the same for you, but I can’t promise anything.  I have seen first hand the way over-involved parents can poison a marriage.  Ask advice if you need it, but make your own choices.  Seek wise counsel, pray, and make your own mistakes.  You will not lose our love—ever.  Show her that you love her enough to make your family with her and that you’ll battle any force that might damage it—even if that force is me.

You see, she needs so much more than her father, and I will ever be able to give her—no matter how deep our love is for her.  God is preparing you to be exactly what she needs.  I’m praying for you.  I know this life is a hard one, but it’s worth it–she’s worth it.  Even now, as I see her growing and struggling, I know that God has a plan and I can trust it.  He may choose to lead her to stay single.  However, whatever the life is that he has planned, I’m going to keep fighting and praying and trusting.  Because, even though I don’t know you, I know God.  I know He loves her more than I ever could.  And He loves you too.

Staying Alert in Christ,

Megan

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, 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

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 think I need a helmet Lord…

Dickens

I know I’m not alone when I sometimes get stressed during the holidays.  There’s so much pressure to get the right gifts, in addition to regular work schedules and family time.  Then there are all the “Christmas traditions” that I feel we need to do.  I feel very overwhelmed and under-appreciated at times.  One of those “under-appreciated times” happened just a couple days ago after picking Mattie up from school.  We were listening to the radio and a spot came on from Focus on the Family.  The spot talked about the importance of making and preserving Christmas traditions.  Immediately I thought of making homemade bread, ornaments, and candies with Mattie each year.  I thought of the special times spent with family and how we take treats to our neighbors.  I thought, “Wow, I’ve got this down!”  Then my balloon was popped—well maybe popped isn’t strong enough of a word.  My balloon was dive-bombed.

“Mom, why don’t we have any special traditions?” was the innocent question from the backseat.  And I felt the impact, Pow!  Right on the noggin!  “WHAT!?!?”  I thought.  How could she not know the amount of work I put into Christmas each year?  How could she not realize how much I focus on making memories with her?  How could she ask that question?   I immediately got defensive.  “We have tons of traditions.  What are you talking about?” Came my snippy reply.  “No we don’t,” came her argumentative complaint. “We do the same things everyone else does.  We don’t do anything special!”

Wow, that really rang my bell.  The strong-willed side of me wanted to say, “Well if you think that, we won’t do any of our traditions this year and see how you like it!”  But, I held my tongue.  I started listing all of the things we do together as a family.  One by one, Mattie started to see the work I put into Christmas for her and our family each year.  Here are a couple lessons I’ve learned from this heart-wrenching conversation.

1.  Don’t assume.  Don’t assume your child knows or sees everything.   They are still young and sometimes they add two and two and get zero. Don’t assume they see and appreciate the family time…..which leads me to my next point.

 2.  Be intentional.  Ask your child, “Why do you think we bake bread every year at Christmas?”  Tell them that you’re trying to make good memories and teach them important lessons during this special season. This is something I’m trying to do in other areas of my daughter’s life as well.  I’m realizing how much she misses—just because I don’t tell her.  I assume she knows.  The other day, I spent 20 minutes telling her how smart she is.  She honestly didn’t know that I thought she was smart.  But, how could she?  I don’t tell her.  We all go about our business expecting that our children understand why we do what we do.  But, sometimes they don’t.  We have to be intentional with telling them they are loved, they are treasured, they are smart, they are talented.  This applies to their relationship with Christ as well.  We have to tell them how much God loves them EVERY day.  If we don’t, the world will tell them the opposite.

3.  Don’t stop.  As our children grow older, we tend to stop teaching them.  I know I have.  Mattie understands so much more now.  She’s intuitive and brave, but she’s not an adult.  She misses things (truth be told, so do most adults)—things that are important, like traditions.   Now that she sees all the traditions we do, she knows that she’s special and that her family loves her.  She sees how her father and I treasure her because we desire to spend time with her.  But, she didn’t see it before.  She saw a stressed out mom who put way too much pressure on herself.  And that leads to the next big lesson—

4.  Don’t over do it.  There’s so much pressure right now with moms trying to be perfect.  You can’t be perfect.  God didn’t make you perfect.  Let go of that aspiration.  Instead, focus on the things your child likes to do with you.  Mattie loves art and crafts.  We make new ornaments for our tree each year.  We also purchase special ones from Hobby Lobby as a family.  It’s fun and it’s special.  We bake bread and make candy (this doesn’t happen every year because it depends on when Christmas break falls), but I don’t go overboard teaching her how to make the fanciest fudge.  We take a simple recipe and we make that.  The point is not perfection but  to make the time precious.

5.  Don’t save all your traditions for Christmas.  Take time each and every day to be intentional to spend time with your child.  We pray together as a family each and every day; we also cook supper together, and do chores together.  My resolution this year is to eat more meals at the table together and to read the Word together daily.  I read mine, but I don’t share it with my daughter everyday.

Proverbs 22:6  “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”  Read to your child, talk about what’s going on in your life, share how God’s changing you every day, and play with your child.   Show your child that they are special and treasured all year long.  That way they will know that you love them, and that God loves them.  In the end, I’m thankful for Mattie’s dive bomb.  It woke me up.  It reminded me of some important truths that apply to all of us even if it rang my bell a bit.

Thanks, Lord, for Mattie, and how she challenges me.  Thank you for making me sensitive to Your voice coming through a child.  I guess maybe I don’t need that helmet after all.