Baby Talk

I've always had a frustration with people who use "baby talk" when speaking to infants. When my oldest son, Kai, was small, I was adamant with those in whom I entrusted his care to use "real words". The result was a child with an expansive and accurate vocabulary by the time he was two. He was able to communicate with anyone and took to reading easily. 

Six years later this tradition was not so easily transferred to my son, Henry, who calls his bottle a "ba". Had Kai done this, I would've corrected him, even as a baby. Yet here we are and I'm calling it a "ba", too! I realized I was mimicking him when he should have been learning to follow my lead. How will Henry ever know the real words if he doesn't hear them from me?

Too often, this is the picture of the church. Perhaps it's weariness or frustration, but we often give up on "teaching up" and decide to mimic the spiritually immature instead of showing them the way to maturity. We end up with a church like the one addressed in Hebrews 5:12-14 "...by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food,  for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil."

Practice. We cannot expect a church full of mature leaders when we've not created an environment that expects practice. Practice is mindful, it is intentional, it is sacrificing speed for depth, and rejecting convenience for spiritual growth. 

The fascinating thing is that true spiritual newborns (those new to the faith) are generally more eager to grow than those who have no business still being considered a "baby in the faith". New Christians often fulfill the admonishment in 1 Peter 2:2-3: " Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation— if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good." They haven't forgotten the taste of the Lord's goodness like so many who have been in "the way" for many years. 

Lord, help us long for maturity. Give our leaders patience and endurance to help the faithful grow. Help us to not grow weary in well doing and to continually encourage one another to GROW DEEPER. 

The Prayer that Changed the World

Acts 7 marks a sudden shift in the story of the New Testament Church. The first six chapters contain rapid growth, healings, signs, and wonders. Sure, there was some time in prison for preaching the Name of Jesus, but the Apostles found their way out and carried on. That wave crashes down around the body of Stephen. 

Chosen to serve in the practical needs of the church, Stephen was a man "full of grace and power" (Acts 6:8). While performing signs and wonders, a crowd is stirred up against him by the twisting of his words. Dragged before the Sanhedrin, Stephen delivers an impassioned sermon/history lesson on the way the prophets had been persecuted by the crowd's ancestors. 

At the sound of this truth they can not dispute, "they were enraged in their hearts and gnashed their teeth at him." (Acts 7:54) This is a particularly interesting piece of the picture, seeing that in Luke 13 we hear that hell is a place of "weeping and gnashing of teeth" where the lost will see "Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all the prophets in the kingdom of God." 

But Stephen is unshakable. "Stephen, filled by the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven. He saw God's glory with Jesus standing at the right hand of God, and he said, 'Look! I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!"

That tops it all! Not only will he not shut up, now he's claiming this Jesus was next to God! They scream at the top of their lungs, cover their ears, and begin to rush him. They throw him out of the city and begin to stone him, but not before leaving their robes with a young man named Saul. 

The phrasing of this next verse cannot be overlooked. "They were stoning Stephen AS HE CALLED OUT: 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!' Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, 'Lord, do not charge them with this sin!' And saying this, he fell asleep." (Acts 7:59-60)

The man lay dying. Blood no doubt poured from his eyes, ears,  and mouth as every vessel in his body was put under stress. His ribs fractured, his face swollen, and yet while he is being murdered, he cries out for their mercy. 

I don't actually think Stephen prayed that at all. I think it was the Holy Spirit in him who pressed that prayer through. 

Stephen had heaven's attention. Jesus Himself stood watching. In that moment, his final seconds, he could have prayed anything with absolute confidence his prayers would be heard. He could have easily prayed for earthly resurrection or that someone step in like Gamaliel had done for the Apostles.

He could have prayed for his persecutors to drop dead. He could have prayed for his body to cause the rocks to bounce back and kill the murderers surrounding him. 

Do you know why he didn't? Because of me and, if you are a Gentile, then because of you, too.

Had he prayed revenge on the mob, that would've included Saul. Saul, instead, becomes the recipient of the answer to Stephen's prayer, obtaining the mercy this "chief sinner" did not deserve. 

When Jesus prophesied that His Followers would be witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the world, it didn't make sense. Sure, those first two were no problem, but Jews would never choose to go to Samaria...except now in Acts 8, they didn't have a choice. The persecution would drive them where they would have never gone on their own. And that young man who was the recipient of Stephen's final prayer? He would become Paul, the man chosen to carry the message to the Jews AND the Gentiles...the one who opened the doors to the "ends of the world."

Augustine said, "if Stephen had not prayed, the church would not have had Paul."

See, Stephen saw Jesus, but Jesus saw us. The "fairy tale" had to end because though great things were happening in Jerusalem, the Savior didn't just come for the people there. There was a bigger picture than even Stephen could have understood...but having seen Jesus, he was submitted to whatever his role would be in pressing the Gospel forward.

And so it is with us. When we see the real Jesus, we will be sold out completely. The same Jesus who watched Stephen take his final breath is watching what we do with ours now. The same Jesus who stood to welcome the first martyr will be there to welcome us when it's our time to go home. In my last moments before I meet Him face to face I want to know that I was a good steward of this Gospel that has been handed down through the generations to me. I want to know that I passed the torch on as well. I want to know that my prayers weren't just for me, but for everyone, including my enemies. 

Being Kingdom minded forces us to think beyond ourselves, it takes our right to victimhood and pettiness away, because someone is depending on us keeping our eyes on Jesus no matter what. Maybe that's why we pray for our enemies-because perhaps, they will run the next leg of the marathon and we just can't see it yet. 

Let the anointing be your defense

"But when David’s oldest brother, Eliab, heard David talking to the men, he was angry. 'What are you doing around here anyway?' he demanded. 'What about those few sheep you’re supposed to be taking care of? I know about your pride and deceit. You just want to see the battle!'” 1 Samuel 17:28

"When Ahab saw [Elijah], he exclaimed, 'So, is it really you, you troublemaker of Israel?'" 1 Kings 18:17

"But when the Pharisees heard about the miracle, they said, 'No wonder [Jesus] can cast out demons. He gets his power from Satan, the prince of demons.” Matthew 12:24

There are some similarities in each of these stories:

1. In each instance, the men "delivered" in one way or another. David arrived on the scene of the confrontation between Goliath and the Israelites because his father wanted him to deliver food to his  brothers and report back their situation. The prophet Elijah delivered a pronounciation of drought to the King who had led his people into worship of false gods. Jesus "delivered" a demon posessed man. Each had done the right thing, and because they did they right thing they found themselves in the crosshairs of the enemy.

2. In each instance, the men were accused. David was accused of pride and deceit, though he had come out of obedience to his father. Elijah was accused of being a troublemaker, though it was Ahab whose actions had brought the Lord's judgement. Jesus was accused of doing the devil's work, though it was his accusers who were on the devil's side. Each time, the accusations could be turned around on the accusers. That's just how the enemy works. The Word tells us he is the accuser of the brethren. It's his title. It's who he is. When you do the work of the Lord and are lied about, you can be sure it comes from one source, and often times it comes through someone who is projecting their issues onto you.

3. In each instance, the accused knew they were anointed. When you know you are set apart by God for a purpose, the attacks can't stop you, because you understand the mission is greater than you. There is a Holy Spirit given confidence that arises from knowing who and what you are. These men combated lies with the truth, but they didn't allow their detractors to stop them from moving forward. The only person who can stop you from living out God's plan in your life is you. No devil, no spirit, no accuser, no hater, nobody can impede His Plan, and nobody can override his anointing. The only way the accuser of the brethren can win is if you decide to lie down and let him win.

David still killed the giant. Elijah would still call down fire from heaven and bring the nation back to God. Jesus would continue to work miracles. When you know you are anointed, no one can convince you otherwise, no matter the scheme.

In the beginning of my ministry I dealt with nasty accusations like these. For a while, I was paralyized by the drive to constantly defend myself. Then one day the Lord gave me a mantra, "let the anointing be your defense." For those who wanted to hate me, no amount of explanation would change their minds. But for those who wanted to see the truth, they would if I could just walk out who God called me to be.

If you find yourself distracted by accusations, I encourage you to turn your eyes to the One who chose you. What does He say about you? I assure you there is no man on this planet whose words have more weight than His. Man can distract for a while, don't give him the satisfaction when the One who has always been and will always be has put His mark on you.

Blind

One very cold morning my then four-year-old son, Kai accompanied me to the grocery store to grab a few things. As we stood in the checkout line I instructed Kai to put on his hat before we walked back out into the elements. But my fun-spirited boy couldn't put it on the "right" way, instead, he pulled the over-sized cap over his entire face. As we were leaving the cashier said, "I don't know how he can see." I quickly replied, "he can't", and kept walking. We walked towards the door as the cashier stared dumbfounded, trying to figure out what kind of mom would let her child walk out the door, across a parking lot blind.

The answer is the kind of mom whose kid never holds her hand.

You see, Kai has always been too independent for my peace. He viewed holding my hand as a sign of weakness. But, with his eyes covered he knew he HAD to depend on me. As the exit doors slid open, he reached up and grabbed my hand. This was the first time he did so voluntarily. I guided him with ease toward our vehicle. As we were almost to the car his disorientation caught up with him and he informed me, "mom, I can't see." Immediately I asked the question he had already answered by making it that far, "do you trust me?" "Yes", my brave boy replied. That trust pushed him past the fear and got us safely to our destination.

When Kai is fully sighted, he's distracted. He runs after every shiny thing he sees, a scary proposition when you know those "shiny things" are attached to vehicles that could crush him in seconds. The cashier thought I was a neglectful mom for allowing his blindness, but the truth was that because I knew him best, I knew blindness would serve him well. This story only ends well because Kai trusted the one whose hand he was holding.

This is a picture of how the Lord often leads us. He will, at times, let us walk blindly so we can cling more closely to him. He knows us better than anyone else, in fact, He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows how easily distracted and rebellious we can be, and He knows the danger awaiting such attitudes, so He puts us in situations where we can't make it on our own. This is for our protection. The Lord's decision to walk you "blind" isn't a punishment or "power trip", it's proof that He knows and loves you deeply.

This is how you learn to walk by faith and NOT by sight (2 corinthians 5:7). In this portion of Corinthians Paul was talking about the journey we are on towards our heavenly home. As Christians, we have joined a faith that is based on things we cannot see. For example, we've never seen heaven, but we have faith in Jesus's promise that He went to prepare a place for us, so we strive to be there with Him one day.

Is it any wonder that the God of a religion based on faith in the unseen would consistently ask you to test that faith and trust in Him?

In the times of darkness and uncertainty, don't focus on the fear; focus on the way His hand feels in yours. Put your mind on the tenor of the confidence in His voice. Learn to lean into those things, trusting He knows the way, and you will reach your destination safely.

Betrayal

I'm not sure you fully feel like a minister until you have experienced betrayal. You pour your body and mind into those the Lord has called you to shepherd, giving up sleep and time with your family to be there for them, only to have their head turned by whispers and lies before turning their entire body away from you. It's one of the most painful parts of ministry, yet it's also one that helps us identity more with Christ.

My mind goes to the night Jesus washed the feet of His disciples. John 13:11 tells us Jesus knew He would be betrayed by Judas. Likewise in Luke 22 we find that Jesus knew Peter would deny even knowing Him. Jesus knew these men would turn from Him, but He loved and served them anyway.

These two men offer prototypes of a couple types of mistreatment ministers will face.

Judas sold Jesus out for what his heart was really set on-money. John 12 already told us he was a thief. His actions proved he was unscrupulous. He hurts Jesus is the worst way, betraying him with a kiss. In Matthew 27 we find Judas regretted his decision, knowing he had gone too far. So he goes to return his ill-gotten gains, but he learned what we often discover too late-if you run with wicked people, they will eventually run over you! They didn't care about the anguish in Judas's heart. It all became too much and Judas hanged himself.

Peter was different. He had shown a pattern of immaturity that caused him to be emotions driven. So it shouldn't be that surprising when, faced with danger for his association to Christ, he cowered. But the book of Acts presents a new Peter. He grew up in the Spirit and became the bold leader he was supposed to be, being led by the Holy Ghost and not his feelings.

You will see both types of betrayal in ministry. You will have those like Judas who use you up only to sell you out in the end for what they really want. They will secure their spot in your intimate circle, proclaiming loyalty, only to murder you with their words in the end. The temptation will be there to use the ammunition you've collected against them, but there's no need. Just as with Judas, they will hang themselves. The type of spirit that drives this betrayal against a man or woman of God can ony be contained so long until it destroys the willing participant. They will become too bold and their words and actions will destroy their reputation without you saying a word.

You will also have those like Peter. You will see your share of emotionally and spiritually immature folks who ride the waves of their emotions. They may love you today and hate you tomorrow. They listen to lies told about you instead of coming to you for clarity. They make up their opinions based on what they feel. When you need their silence they are a distraction and when you need them to be brave they curl up in a ball in the corner. But here's the good news: when they allow the Lord to grow them up, they will be a force to be reckoned with in the Kingdom. They may never apologize for hurting you, but if your heart is right, you will take what God does through them as the ultimate vindication.

Here's the trick, no matter if you are facing being sold out or just disregarded by the emotionally stunted: love them the same. Only the sovereign God knows which is in your midst even now. No minute spent loving and leading is wasted when you do it out of faithfulness to the Lord. If they kick against God's plan, He will handle it.

New Ownership

Imagine you've purchased your first home. The early sense of excitement begins to wane as you meet your neighbors and they tell you horror stories about your residence. They confirm your earlier suspicions that the home was once a drug den as they tell of countless nights of police raids and erratic behavior from both the previous owners and their "customers". Your heart pounds a bit harder as you hear how for many months after your predecessor vacated the premises their "friends" showed up at all hours of the night, banging on all the doors on the street looking for their dealer. Then that pounding heart drops into your stomach as you remember all the letters sent to your mailbox with a return address corresponding to a prison.

The previous owners, for reasons you can only assume, left no forwarding address. Their associates think they still in your new home. 

I believe the Lord offers forgiveness and mercy for all who seek Him, and I want to show His Love to all...but if menacing folk show up at my door at 4 am where my son sleeps, I don't think I'll be interested in entertaining. 

Now, this is YOUR house. You bought it. You are in control of the activities that occur within its walls, and you aren't leaving. So what do you do?

My first instinct is a simple one; change the outward appearance of the house as much as possible. Change the color scheme. Commit to new landscaping. Replace the mailbox. Whatever change is in my power, I'm going to carry out. I want to give any sinister character who shows up enough pause that they stop and realize there's a new owner here. 

Now think for a moment: if the crowd you ran with before coming to Jesus were to see you now, would they know just from looking that the old person isn't there anymore?

It's easy to say "God looks on the heart so my appearance shouldn't matter", but have you ever stopped to think about the fact that the world DOES look on the outside? God certainly knows your heart. He knows to whom you belong. But when your outward appearance doesn't change, you are leading people to believe the same old man or woman resides in your "house", and if they believe you haven't changed, they will expect you to act as you always did. This opens the door for increased pressure and temptation. 

Following the command and receiving the promise of 1 Thessalonians 5:22-23 to, "Abstain from all appearance of evil. And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." is not just about preserving your witness, it's about protecting your spirit and the work Christ has done in you. When He changes you, everything should change. Your walk, talk, attitude, and yes, perhaps even your dress should be different. 

Is it fair that we can't look or act like everyone else? I don't know, is it fair that a law-abiding home owner has to make changes to deter criminals? The point is, fair or not, if something matters to you, you will do what it takes to protect it. 

Romans 8 reminds us, "Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace. The mind governed by the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law, nor can it do so. Those who are in the realm of the flesh cannot please God." 

The process of making "new ownership" apparent requires assessment and hard work. I've been preaching for many years and following Jesus for much longer than that, and I'm still a work in progress in this area. The truth is that if you belong to God, then you aren't the new owner, He is. So seek Him. We must continually ask the Lord to do His sanctifying work in us and we must inquire of Him what our part is in this process so that people will know the old person isn't here anymore. 

Mama's Wing

The youth I lead in my local church are taking part in a discipleship program. One of the most important parts of the program is scripture memorization. We started by memorizing the entirety of Psalm 139, and have now moved on to Psalm 91. The former Psalm is all about God's love for us, how He has never taken His eye off of us since the day HE started weaving each of us in our mother's womb. The latter Psalm is about the protection God offers those who love Him and call on His Name.

Verses one through four read like this in the New Living Translation:

Those who live in the shelter of the Most High

    will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

This I declare about the Lord:

He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;

    he is my God, and I trust him.

For he will rescue you from every trap

    and protect you from deadly disease.

He will cover you with his feathers.

    He will shelter you with his wings.

Each day I recite these promises, and they never fail to make me think of my son, Kai. My four year old is as fearless as the come...in the day time, at least. But something happens at night. Suddenly, there's no such thing as "too close" to the mama he wouldn't let cuddle him hours before in the daylight. When the sun goes to bed and the rooms get dark and shadows are no longer the subject of funny imaginative stories, it's not good enough to know I'm in the house, he has to feel that I am there. Even being in the room with me won't suit. He has to press his little body against my side, until there remains not even the smallest gap between us. But he's not done yet. He pulls my arm around him and brings my hand to rest on his chest. In this position, I have one hand free to fight off any danger (real or imagined), but one hand is reserved for Kai to feel me there. 

When he started this ritual we had to have many discussions about my conditions for this arrangement. There can be no wiggling. He has to lie still beneath my hand. You see, I'm always in my bed, on my side. But for Kai to be under that hand is a choice he has to make.

Psalm 91 is FULL of amazing promises, which the passage says are our "armour and protection". But this is a conditional Psalm. The Lord offers protection in the day and night, from the trap of the enemy, malicious attacks, and even disease and calamity. BUT the choice is up to YOU if you will remain under his wing your squirm your way away from your Protector. 

Do you find yourself desperate to not only know God is there but to feel that He is? It may be time to ask yourself if you have submitted yourself to being under His hand, sheltered by His wing. No squirming. No fidgetting. No trying to figure things out on your own. Just finding your nook in His side. 

If you are tired of being afraid, restless, and anxious, ask the Lord to evaluate your heart and mind with a prayer like this:

Lord, thank You for your faithful promises. Your Word says that if I would choose to live in your shelter that I would find rest. I want to know what that feels like. I'm tired of doing it on my own. I acknowledge that You are the only one who could fully care for me and I submit to letting You do just that. Calm my anxious thoughts and teach me to rest beneath your shadow. Thank You that your Word is true, and thank You for loving me so completely. In Jesus Name, Amen.

The Crucible

Crucible. That's the word the Lord kept putting before my spiritual eyes. As I faced one heartache after another this year, He kept whispering "crucible". When I asked why I had to go through the pain and pressure, He kept repeating, "crucible".

A physical crucible is defined as, "a ceramic or metal container in which metals or other substances may be melted or subjected to very high temperatures." A crucible is used to refine metals, such as gold.

John Bevere, in his book The Bait of Satan, describes the difference in gold before and after it is refined:

"Refined gold is soft and pliable, free from corrosion or other substances. It is when gold is mixed with other metals that it becomes hard, less pliable, and more corrosive. This mixture is called an alloy. The higher the percentage of foreign metals, the harder the gold becomes. Conversely, the lower the percentage of alloy, the softer and more flexible."

He goes on to add:

"First step in refining gold is grinding it into a powder and mixing it with a substance called flux. Then the mixture is placed in a furnace and melted by intense heat. The alloys and impurities are drawn to the flux and rise to the surface. The gold (which is heavier) remains at the bottom. The impurities or dross (such as copper, iron, and zinc, combined with flux) is then removed, yielding a purer metal."

Now it makes sense why the Lord kept putting this word in my heart.

Every trial. Every difficulty. Every day spent crying. Every night spent wide awake with worry. I get it now. All those bad things that I "didn't deserve" were just extra degrees added to the refiner's fire.

When gold is heated, all the impurities come to the surface. So it is with trials. Under pressure, we see what's really on the inside. The Bible tells us that what comes out of our mouths originates from our hearts. When things are going well, we can suppress the ugly parts of us. But when we struggle, are anxious or just plain mad, we find ourselves verbalizing what we didn't even know was there.

Now confronted with all my issues glaring at me from the surface, I had to choose: stuff them back down and pretend I didn't know better, or let God complete the process He intended when He put me in the heat. I chose the latter. I asked for His help and then I set out to ask for forgiveness from those I had wronged in my "alloy days".

The result was spectacular. God restored and enriched relationships I thought would be lost in the midst of the fire. He gave me more clarity on His Will for my life. He gave me peace that comes from knowing the crucible is a gift and not a punishment.

Gold has to be refined so it can be pliable. It has to be pliable so it can be shaped and formed into something beautiful.

Don't despise the crucible. Pray for understanding in the struggle and for the strength to let God do the work He desires in you.

Waves on the Altar

The Prophet Elijah announced that it would neither rain nor dew except upon his command in response to King Ahab leading the people of Israel to worship their weather god, Baal. God immediately sends his prophet away, where he is provided for in the 3 years that followed. Then the Word of the Lord came and sent Elijah back to the King.

Elijah called on the King to gather his prophets for a challenge. It would come down to Elijah against 450 prophets of Baal. Each side was to prepare an altar with a cut sacrifice atop the wood, but they could not light it. The God who answered with fire would be pronounced the true God.

Baal's prophets prayed and danced and even cut themselves to gain their god's attention, but nothing worked. Now it was Elijah's turn.

First, he repaired the Lord's altar. He got his foundation right.

Then, he built a trench around his altar and arranged the sacrifice as he saw fit.

His next move makes no sense. He commands that barrels of water be poured over the wood. So much water was used that it saturated the wood and the remainder filled the trench.

Why in the world would he do that? Most people know you need dry wood to start a fire.

He was setting God up for His due glory. Elijah was putting his side in a situation in which there would be no doubt that his God reigned supreme. No one would be able to accuse Elijah of trickery or try to give him the credit.

When I think about the water being poured out, my mind goes to the ocean. You reach a certain point in the water where the waves come very close together. If one gets you off balance, it's nearly impossible to regain control before the next one comes. You can get to the point where you think you'll never get out of the sinking sand beneath you.

Life's like that sometimes. Wave after wave crash over you, and you wonder if you'll ever regain your footing. Your health takes a hit, and about the time you straighten up, your finances are in trouble. You get your money right, and your relationships start to suffer. You may even pray and ask God to just give you a break. He doesn't have to make everything perfect, but if he could just hold a wave back long enough to catch your breath and get your head above water you'd at least feel like He heard you.

I know I've prayed that. One day the Lord explained it so plainly that even I could understand. He said, "I'm capable of holding the wave back with my hand, but I'm setting this up for my Glory."

The goal on the other side of trial isn't that people marvel at our strength, it's that they see how big our God is. He will let us take those hits so that on the other side we don't try to share in His Glory.

The outcome of Elijah's drenched altar and power packed prayer was that fire fell from heaven and the people turned back to Yahweh.

How differently would we view hardship if we started seeing it as an opportunity to put God's Glory on display?

The Arms of a Princess

The times into which Moses was born would have been terrifying for any Israelite mother. In an effort to halt the numerical growth of God's people, the King of Egypt ordered all Hebrew baby boys be murdered. Exodus 2 gives the account of his mother's bravery:

Now a man of the tribe of Levi married a Levite woman, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for three months. But when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basket for him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile. His sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him.

Then Pharaoh’s daughter went down to the Nile to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the riverbank. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her female slave to get it. She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. “This is one of the Hebrew babies,” she said.

Then his sister asked Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?”

“Yes, go,” she answered. So the girl went and got the baby’s mother. Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.” So the woman took the baby and nursed him. When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses, saying, “I drew him out of the water.”

As a parent, I don’t believe anyone could love my son like I do. There’s no place safer for him, in my mind, than by my side. Most parents feel that way. Parents have this gift from God to see their kid’s potential more than their problems. So we worry when we send him out into the world that doesn’t readily have the ability to see their strengths.

But even with all this unimaginable love I have for my son, I’m not perfect. I’ve failed him. Sometimes my love for him makes me act a little crazy. Sometimes I react out of tiredness or frustration. Sometimes I don’t say things the way I should and I know I don’t always make the right decisions for him.

I’ve come to realize what Moses’s mother found out: my hands aren’t the safest place for him, God’s hands are the safest place for him. This is the God of whom David would write:

You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body;  all the days ordained for me were written in Your Book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with You.

That’s the God Moses’s mother was trusting in. She was trusting in the God who formed and loved her son to protect him. And that’s the same God we have to trust in when we send our babies out into this world of suffering.

The mother did 3 things that I want to highlight and learn from as a parent:

1) She trusted what she had built

The tar and pitch the mother used was the same waterproofing method used on large boats. She was resourceful. The most ideal situation was that he could stay safe with her, but if she had to let him go she gave him the best security and she had faith in this method before she put her baby into the basket.

When the time comes to send our children out, we have to trust in the foundations we have set in them. The Word of God never returns void. Even when you think they aren’t listening. Even when it doesn’t seem to land, keep speaking and praying God’s Word over them because it’s full of power that our own words will never possess.

              2) She released him

It would seem like this mother was taking a pretty huge gamble by placing her baby in the water. But she knew something we forget, with God on our side, it’s never a gamble. 

I believe when she placed the boy into the bank, God’s hand covered him. He wasn’t found by soldiers or Egyptians who were scared to violate the king’s command, nor was he eaten by a wild animal. Why? Because Moses was covered by the hand that had his name engraved upon it. The same hand that has my son's name engraved on it. The same hand that has your child’s name engraved on it.

Yes, God entrusts our children to us. Ours is the hand they get to hold, but we have to place them back into the hand of their Creator. Releasing our children is hard. Whether you drop your child or grandchild off for the first day of elementary, middle, high school, or at a college dorm, God goes before them and He walks beside them. And He has loved them in a way even you couldn’t imagine. He doesn't make mistakes, nor does He respond out of frustration or exhaustion. That's just part of why His ways are higher than ours. 

Moses was kept by the hand of God until he was welcomed into the arms of a princess. God has plans for your children beyond your wildest dreams, but you have to trust him.

              3) When given the opportunity, she took him back in

Moses’ mother didn’t place her baby in the water because she didn’t love him, she did it  out of great love. She knew that keeping him meant certain death, but releasing him at least gave him the opportunity for life. God entrusted Moses to this woman, she placed her trust back in God, and he gave her another opportunity to love and care for Moses. 

How you say goodbye has a lot to do with how often you will say hello to your children. I’ve often said a parent has 18 years to develop the kind of relationship that makes a child want to be around them after they reach that milestone. When God creates opportunity to love and care for them, take it. I believe Moses’s mother exemplified a command we parents would do well to memorize from the Apostle Paul:

1 Corinthians 16:13-14 "Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong.  Do everything in love." 

It's easy to forget that transitions are hard for our children as well. Especially those into adulthood. Mistakes will be made. Fear will manifest as anger and annoyance (probably on both sides), but work to make sure all you do is done in love. 

Timelines

At 19 years old I knew exactly what needed to happen with my life. I had a perfect timeline of events that needed to occur when I said so in order for my life to be a "success". I'd have my Bachelor's Degree by 22, an engagement ring by 23, a perfect wedding by 24, all so I could have my two kids by 30 (I wasn't sure that I wanted children, but if I had them there was no way I'd be pregnant in my 30's).

Not only did I have a mental picture of how it would all go, but I set to planning ahead so when the time came I'd be ready. I spent hundreds of dollars if not more on wedding magazines, fully prepared to just change out the groom in my fantasy because he was just a piece of a much bigger puzzle.

But 22 came and the degree was delayed. 23 came and went with my ring finger remaining naked. So did 24, 25, and 26. My timeline was in shambles. In retrospect it was ridiculous to act as if I was an "old maid" at 26, but it felt like it at the time.

The Lord took me to Acts 17, featuring a speech by the Apostle Paul who was deeply troubled by all the idol worship in Athens. At verse 22 Paul begins;


 “People of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship—and this is what I am going to proclaim to you.

“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.'"

An unknown god. That's what I was worshiping. I had built an altar out of those magazines which was fanned with my crazed fantasies turned obsessions. I was putting all my faith on a future I couldn't understand instead of turning to the God who was already there. This God dictates the boundaries of lands and APPOINTS TIMES IN HISTORY, and yet I thought the appointments I set on an invisible calendar were going to win.

So here's what I did-

I gave the magazines away to a friend who was recently engaged and could actually use them. I started working on me in the present instead of the imagined "me" from the future. I confronted my insecurities and started doing something about them. I studied without worrying about the degree. I took an interest in getting healthy. I actively worked to get closer to the known God I had neglected while chasing the one I didn't know.

And while I was focused on getting those things right, God sent a man who loved me just as I was.

I still only have my associate's degree. I got married at 27, had my first child at 28, and don't know if he will be the only one (but if he's not, I'll be pregnant in my 30's).

The problem with timelines is that we are subject to a God who is all knowing and all seeing. He saw that I wasn't ready in my early 20's for the things I thought I needed. What I needed was to find myself in Him first.

In the waiting, seek God's Will. Ask Him what it is He desires to do you in you. Submit to the process and find joy in the timelines that he wrecks.

Stand On Me

I believe women in ministry are at a pivotal point in history. Both within my own movement and outside, women are receiving recognition for their contribution to the Gospel moving forward, while organizations once closed off to women are taking a new look at their stance. I receive messages constantly from young women searching for guidance as they accept the Call to preach, and I can't help but notice a special outpouring. 

Something is happening in His daughters, and something amazing is about to come through them.

This blog is not being written to pat us on the back or bring attention. Instead, it's a plea that we not mess this up. 

Too often in the world of women in ministry there is undue competition. Of course, there is competition in both sexes, but there's this idea that there are only so many spots for females, and thus, if you've got one you better fight to keep it. 

And I do mean FIGHT.

Instead of embracing the sisterhood of this calling, we turn on one another. We like the idea of God calling young women, but we want them to wait on the edge of the stage watching us, waiting until we are done with the spotlight. I've watched it play out over and over again, as anointed women stoop so low as to gossip, lie, and even sabotage those they consider a threat. 

So I say to those of us already on the battlefield, we have a sacred duty to encourage our new soldiers. We should be their biggest supporters, because no one understands the struggle like we do. And if we should ever be tempted to keep them on the sidelines, I pray another sister would rise up and correct us. 

I pray a prayer over the young women I mentor that they would take the Gospel farther, faster than I ever dreamed. Do you know how that will be possible? By letting them stand on my shoulders. And what does shoulder standing entail? It's me, being vulnerable, telling them all the missteps and pitfalls to watch out for. It's time spent together in the Word. It's consciously taking the conversation from gossip to prayer. It's teaching them how to be true to their calling without compromising their equally important callings at home. It's deciding the goal is God's glory and not my own. 

How can they assume that position atop my shoulders if I'm constantly stepping on them trying to get to my next pedestal? 

I want the testimony of my generation of called women to be that we were gracious to one another. I want it to be said that we lived lives worthy of emulation by the girls behind us. The work is too important to be petty. 

What exactly is He about to do? I'm not sure. But buckle up, buttercup. This is going to be an amazing ride. 

Leaving the Upper Room

I am tremendously thankful for my Pentecostal heritage. Growing up in a church AND home in which the gifts of the Spirit were proven over and over, I've never doubted the authenticity of the baptism. I've seen the much discussed physical manifestations when "the Spirit moves". I've witnessed words of prophecy and knowledge spoken which the speaker could not have known without some intervention from God. In short, you've come too late to convince me that the Baptism of the Holy Spirit was limited to the New Testament.

But I fear a trend among us.

I remember services growing up when people would say things like, "the Spirit moved so much that the preacher didn't even preach!" I understood the sentiment, at times I even thought never hearing a sermon again because we were so enthralled in worship was a great goal. 

And then I read the book of Acts in its entirety.

Pentecostals tend to want to camp out in the first few verses of Acts 2. Why wouldn't we love to stay there? These verses are for all intents and purposes the foundation of the Pentecostal arm of the Church. Here we read of the visible and audible power of God sweeping a prayer meeting and filling the attendees with power, fulfilling the promise of Jesus and the prophecies which had awaited fulfillment.

But the purpose of Pentecost isn't found in the first four verses of Acts 2, it's found in the remainder of the book. They weren't endued with power so they could recount a great event. Tongues of fire didn't rest on them so they could feel good about themselves. The Spirit was poured out on them because they were about to embark on a seemingly impossible journey. They were charged with advancing the Gospel in the face of persecution, discrimination, and the physical loss of their Teacher.

The Upper Room outpouring didn't come so they could say they "had church", it came so they could BE the Church.

The effects of what happened on that day are too great to recount, but a quick scan of the remainder of Acts reveals cowards becoming leaders, the Church growing by thousands at a time, signs and wonders, church planting, and the advancement of the Gospel far beyond the borders they had known.

When we chose to focus on the outpouring in the church instead of the "out flowing" to a lost world, we do what Peter suggested in Matthew 17.

Jesus had taken Peter, James, and John up a mountain and revealed Himself to them. They saw Jesus transform before their eyes before seeing Moses and Elijah as well.

In verse 4 Peter says, "Lord, it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias."

Note: it's good for us.

For us, in this moment, everything is great, so let's stay here. But in the shadow of that mountain was a boy who needed help. A spirit was putting the boy's safety at risk and the disciples couldn't contend with it. The boy needed Jesus.

What if the Lord had allowed Peter to build a camp for Him on the mountain? What would have happened to the boy who desperately needed him?

How would things have been different if those gathered in the Upper Room had decided they would rather stay in the warm glow of the tongues of fire than go outside?

See, suddenly filled with this Holy Spirit in Acts, Peter isn't concerned about "us" anymore. It's not about camping out in comfort now. It's not about basking in the glow of the presence of Jesus. Now he's more driven to go than to stand in the glow. Acts is the story of the Church, and what we find in the New Testament is that the Church is about we over me.

This is why I worry when I hear about churches that get so caught up in the outpouring that there is never an out flow. It's nice to be in a service where we "feel the Spirit", but we weren't baptized for that. We were baptized to be His witnesses. We were filled to walk in boldness and take Jesus to the people who have no intention of attending our services-no matter how awesome they are.

At some point, we have to leave the "Upper Room", and what will we do then?

My problem isn't with worship or the "song service" part of our time together, far from it. I'm the person you really don't want to stand next to during the "praise and worship" portion of a service because I can't contain my excitement over singing praises to my God. My problem is when we decide to worship worship. When we decide that time spent worshiping through music is more important than any other form of worship, we elevate it to a dangerous status. Our worship becomes self-indulgent and more focused on emotion than truth.

When we applaud the lack of preaching because we sang too long, there's a problem. When we leave a service without hearing any Biblical truth because we not only shut out the sermon but the songs we sing lack any scriptural foundation (which can happen with both modern songs and hymns), there's a problem. When we think our time together is about us and not the world we are supposed to be taking the Gospel to, there's a big problem.

When you leave the "Upper Room" of your church environment is anyone outside better for the time you spent there? Are you satisfied to be "shook" in God's Presence, or do you leave and shake up your community? We aren't filled to feel full. We are filled to be fueled for the mission at hand-to take the Gospel to the world. 

I Am Persuaded

My grandmother lived what many would consider a tragic life. Born in the early days of the Great Depression, she grew up poor, hungry, neglected, and abused by a step mother who was given charge of her after her mother's death when she was only four. She had to work hard for every thing she had-and she didn't have much. By the time of her death, she had been preceded by 2 of her children-a stillborn baby boy and a wayward son who suffered a seizure in his mid 20's and died alone.

Her life was not to be envied. But she was greatly admired by those who knew her. She kept the faith and coated the family Bible in tears until her backslid husband and rebellious children found their way to this Jesus whom she loved.

My grandfather died in his early 60's leaving my "nanny" behind. As was common for many growing up when she did, nanny didn't have much of an education. She became a very adult learner and started studying to receive her GED. Those plans were halted one day when her daughter walked in to find her talking like a baby and crying for her "mama". Her descent into Alzheimer's was rapid.

It wasn't long after that she slipped into a lengthy coma. She woke up three times, and each time she said the same five words, "God's been good to me."

What event in her life warranted such a declaration? Her life was full of death and sorrow and struggle, yet those were the words so deep in her spirit that not even the depths of a coma could suppress.

I thought about my nanny this week as I taught my youth group from the book of Romans. We reached the passage my Bible labels, "The Believer's Triumph".

Romans 8:38-39 proclaims,

"For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

I always thought that to mean nothing I do can separate me from God's love, but I'm now seeing it in a broader view-that God's love is an ever-present force, no matter the circumstance I'm experiencing. Hardship is NOT a result of the absence of His presence or love.

He was good to her because He was always with her.

He was with her at four years old when her mama died.

He was with her when she was punished for filling her empty belly with mustard in the middle of the night because her step mother had starved her.

He was with her when her newborn didn't cry.

He was with her when her children were lost in wild living.

He was with her when she heard of the discovery of her son's lifeless body.

He was with her when her mind had left.

And He was with her in her deep slumber from which she would not recover.

He was always walking with her...and now she can walk with Him.

NOTHING separated her from His love.

She never lost the faith because like the Apostle Paul, she was persuaded that nothing could separate her from the love of God because nothing had separated her from the love of God.

Oh that this would be our testimony. I pray that we would remember that His love has never and will never leave us. I pray that we would see that God has been good to us, because He has never left us.

Dead Dreams

At the age of 31, it's an understatement to say things haven't all turned out the way I planned. Most of the plans I made never came to fruition. Now some of those dreams came and went easier than others. As an adult, I can now understand that my goal of being an actress/singer/princess may have been an overreach and reality necessitates I move on. No problem. But then there are other goals that I genuinely strove for only to find they would always be beyond my reach.

That hurts.

You want to think that if you want something bad enough and work hard enough, it'll all work out. But life isn't always like that. In particular, the life sold out to God and in submission to His Plan probably won't end with all of your dreams being fulfilled.

That's where I landed a couple of weeks ago. I wish not to share the details because I want you to see how applicable the Lord's words to me are to many who feel lost.

Suffice it to say I had a dream/goal/plan that I wanted more than just about anything. For the better part of a decade I had been fixated on this thing. "I'm gonna make this happen" I told myself. Every time I came up against a locked door, I backed up and tried to figure out another way in. If it didn't open with a turn of the knob, I'd find a key. If I couldn't find a key, I'd use a battering ram. I was getting in this door. Because I just had to.

Why was it so important? Because when I looked at those I wished to be like, they had all gone through this door. When I compared myself to them, I always came up short. Whatever was beyond that door, I had to get there, because that's where my heroes were.

But the battering ram didn't work. The door was sealed off for me. I would never be like those I admired so.

I realized this was it. I didn't have the strength to keep forcing my way to a dead end, and to be honest, I wasn't so sure I wanted in anymore.

So I did what I had to do to hammer the final nails into the coffin of my now-dead dream. And with the last swing, the Lord spoke as clearly as He ever has to me. While I wish to keep some of His Word for myself, I believe this part is for many of us.

He said: "Stop comparing yourself to everyone else. You don't need what they have because you aren't going where they are going."

In that instant, peace washed over me and I was finally calm. God wasn't keeping the door shut because He didn't hear me, He was doing it because I belong somewhere else. Not somewhere less than, but somewhere only I can go.

I don't know where you are at right now. But if you find yourself where I was, unable to hear God speaking over the sound of shattered dreams, I believe that word is for you too.

Stop comparing yourself.

God had every one of your days mapped out before you lived the first one (Psalm 139). As a matter of fact, He had them written before those you compare yourself to lived a day as well. His plan for you is not contingent on what anyone else on this planet has done or will do.

It's okay to take a different path. It's okay to not live up to the standard you've set in your mind. Don't mourn the death of a dream. Celebrate the chance for something new to be birthed in you.

You'll Miss the Best Part

Have you ever tried to share a movie you absolutely love with a friend? The expectations are high that they'll think it's as great as you do. But then something happens. The plot twists. A new character is introduced or the action shifts in a way they didn't expect. Suddenly, the movie isn't as exciting or romantic as they had expected. Or maybe things turn scary or uncertain. Your friend decides you were out of your mind to recommend the film and they stand up to leave. You, knowing the spectacular resolution that's coming begin to plead, "but you'll miss the best part if you leave now!"

I've been married just a few days shy of four years. Obviously, I'm no expert. But in that short time I've seen the marriages of several of my young friends end. Of course, there are times when abuse or adultery leave no other viable option, but too often I'm hearing that they made the decision because they are just "too young" to waste their time in bad marriage. Over and over I hear something to the effect of one or both parties deciding if this is the best there is, then they'll pack up and start over while they are still young enough to find their fairy tale elsewhere.

We've bought into this manufactured fallacy that the "honeymoon period" is where you find the deepest love and if you can't make it work there, you're hopeless.

I didn't have that honeymoon period. I've often joked that the devil threw us a "welcome home" party when we returned from our Jamaican honeymoon. We had to learn how to become one person and let me tell you, that's painful. I had to learn how to be a homemaker and he had to now provide for 2 people on a salary that barely supported 1. Those little idiosyncrasies that were so cute when we were dating were now being added to a list of "irreconcilable differences."

We came very close to buying into the lies I was speaking of earlier. In those moments of not being able to agree on anything, of bending to the point of almost breaking, my mind absolutely told  me to cut my loses and start over.

But something happened... a glimmer of hope shone through. When I let the ice walls I built begin to melt, I could hear his laughter again that made me fall for him. Suddenly, I could see how hard he was trying. I could understand why this adjustment was much harder for him than for me. And I remembered what a great team we could be. No longer did I envision our future in a divorce court, but rather together, in our home, surrounded by family.

So back to that movie. That's what it feels like when I hear newlyweds wanting to throw in the towel. I want to scream "BUT YOU'LL MISS THE BEST PART!" If you walk away because the beginning was too slow or not what you expected, you'll never get to the good part. That "better or worse" thing wasn't just talk. The longer you stick around, the more clearly you see that you need to go through both and everything in between to have the kind of meaningful, fulfilling relationship you really need.

Don't buy the lie that the first few months are the height of love. The best is yet to come. Don't walk out before the best part.

The best part is walking through:

Life

Death

Promotions

Unemployment

Fulfillment

Emptiness

but walking through it together.

Clean Out Your Freezer

I want to lose weight, really, I do. I know it would be best for me to drop a few pounds. It would make me healthier in my body, but my mind and emotions would benefit as well. Yep, everyday I wake up resolved to make this change.

But I have a problem... a cold, half-gallon problem.

I like chocolate ice cream. Sometimes I think I love it. I like the comfort it brings. If I have a rough day I know I can rely on its sugary goodness to make me feel better...at least for a while. Yeah, I like ice cream...but I hate what it does to me.

Being an emotional eater is a strange thing. It's almost like an out of body experience. As you go through the motions involved to remove the carton from the freezer, scoop it into a bowl, and consume the treat your mind is saying "stop", but your body overrules it. Almost the instant it's gone, you realize the mistake you've made. It didn't make you feel as good as you thought it would. The day was still bad. Your heart was still broken. The questions still linger. But now you can add the pain of a brain freeze and fear of the scale in the morning.

I write this full of resolve in my heart, yet again. I'm giving up this stuff. I'm going to turn my back on sugar. I'm going to lose this weight because I have to for my own good. Yes, I mean it this time. But there's a problem...

I keep a carton of ice cream in my freezer at all times.

For emergencies.

It's bad for me. Time has proven it to be so. My head understands this, but I need that contingency plan. I keep it on standby just in case. The last bridge I want to burn is the one with ice cream on it. But as long as it's an option, I will keep running to it.

It occurs to me that this was the same pattern I carried in the relationships of my youth. I knew certain people were bad for me. I ran to them for comfort, but the comfort was fleeting. Soon enough I'd realize how bad they were for me. I'd resolve to leave them. But they were always in my "freezer". I kept them close enough in case I had a bad day. Maybe next time would be different. Maybe next time they wouldn't play games that left my head and heart aching. But the next time was always like the last time.

If you were serious about a diet, you'd throw out the sweets. If you were serious about being sober, you'd pour the liquor down the sink. If I had been serious about moving on to healthy relationships I'd make sure the bad ones weren't being kept on ice.

The day finally came when I realized the pattern I was in. All the good intentions in the world didn't matter if the bad relationships were still close enough to be an option.

When food addicts throw out food they tend to make a total mess of it so they won't be tempted to go back into the trash and retrieve it-yes, their addiction is so bad they'd go into the garbage to get the food they were trying to discard. So they can't just put the cookies in the trash can. They'll put other garbage on top, or maybe smother it with mustard to make it totally unappealing.

Disgusting, right. That's the picture I want in your mind next time you run back to that person or thing that has you trapped. You are digging in the garbage-and darling, you are much too good for that.

I've heard it said that the thing you run to for comfort is your idol. Think: What or who do you run to for comfort? Have they taken the place of God in your life? When they are done "comforting" you, are you better off? Are you a better person when you are with them? Are you more like the man or woman God intended you to be when you are with them?

If this relationship (whether romantic or friendly) is hurting you, physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually, it's time to throw it out, cover it in garbage, and walk it to the garbage truck yourself to make sure it can't be an option tomorrow or next week or next year.

You deserve better, and you can have better, but only if you clean out your freezer.

Refuge for the Ragamuffins

Perhaps the greatest kindness God bestowed upon me in ministry thus far was sending me where no one else wanted to go.

My first youth pastorate was in a church nestled in an impoverished community. It came with no youth and no salary or hope of one.

Standing at the pulpit you could see out to a halfway house. A quick search of predators in the neighborhood surrounding the church house would leave your computer lit up like a Christmas tree. Evidence of gang activity abounded and drug deals were carried out in broad daylight.

At the end of the street were a couple of apartment buildings. If tenants called the cops on the dangers around them, they were evicted. If they didn't make the ridiculously high rent the day it was due, chains were placed on their doors and all they had was gone.

I spent some time in one of these apartments with a single mom of two special needs kids. The entire apartment was smaller than most people's living rooms. There she lived with her children and her parents. This mom found her way to our church after two other churches said they couldn't handle her kids and asked her to leave. The myopic view of those churches was our good fortune as we gained this sweet family and heaven recorded a new soul when this struggling mama gave her heart to Jesus on her first Sunday with the words "I need a bath" (translation: I need Jesus to cleanse my sins.)

It was on a visit to this family that I heard the saddest thing in my personal recollection. The little girl, maybe 3 years old, unable to walk well, tried to chase after my husband when we left calling out "DADDY" because she had no concept of what a daddy was. This was the heartbreaking reality of this community.

Nobody wanted them.

Nobody was fighting me for the title of youth pastor here.

A lot of people wondered what I was doing there.

I sometimes wondered what I was doing there.

These were not the kind of young people I was accustomed to. Theirs were not the problems I knew how to give counsel on. I was raised in good schools, with two ever-present parents who loved me. And those were the kind of kids I spent most of my time talking with.

It's funny, the kids like me spend a lot of time praying for direction on their future. That's the number one thing I hear. They just can't seem to get settled on where they will study or which career will fulfill them most.

These kids never prayed like that. I don't think they saw a future for themselves at all.

Eventually, we started feeding the neighborhood. We went outside every Wednesday in the summer and played soccer and ate $5 pizzas and did the shortest devotion possible, trying to get a little Word in before the fights started breaking out.

I remembered complaints I used to hear in those "good churches" with the "good young people" back when I was younger. Members in those churches used to comment during outreach that those kids only come for free food. Those kids who track mud on the carpet and don't know how to dress for church should know better. Those kids who only come if there's a camp or trip coming up are detracting from the attention our kids deserve.

I thought about that attitude during one of these Wednesday night outreaches whenI realized why God sent me there.

I listened to some of the young people who had shown up "just for the free food" talking. They were comparing dads. The kids in churches I grew up in on the nice part of town did that, too. Except when we compared dads it was about their occupation, when these kids did it they compared their location-as in, which jail are they located in or do we know their location at all?

After the conversation was over and the pizza was gone, we packed up to head home, but these kids wanted to stay...in the dark parking lot...next to the halfway house...across the street from drug dealers. Where were their parents? Oh...that's right. They were locked up...or maybe they were purchasers at the drug house...or maybe they were out trying to earn a decent living, but forced to leave their kids to fend for themselves in the meantime.

In waves, all those snarky comments I had heard, and at times, may have even said, about these ragamuffin types smacked me in the face.

Yes, they only came for the food...because they were hungry with no one to feed them.

Yes, they track mud in the church...because no one was home and they've been out in the elements for hours.

Yes, they show up for special trips and camp...because they want a family vacation, but they have no family.

Yes, they act out for attention...because they want a dad and mom and the only way they know to get adult attention is by acting out.

We were the refuge for the ragamuffins.

I thought I was really doing them a favor. I couldn't have known the kindness God was showing me by sending me to them. He was breaking me of my pre-conceived notions of what ministry is. He was showing me the "least of these". He was simultaneously showing me how blessed I am and how I'm no better than anyone else.

I'm begging you, don't write off those kids or those teens or those adults. Even if you think they are taking advantage of you. Take them in. Teach them. And in the process, I assure you, they will teach you.

The Chicken Heart

My mom makes the most fantastic chicken soup on the planet. When I got married, I wanted to master this recipe because 1.) I wanted to show my husband I could cook like her and 2.) I figured it was impossible to mess up soup. I was wrong about that second one.

I called mom for the recipe and the first thing she says is, "you buy a whole chicken". I had never cooked a "whole" anything. The closest I had gotten was a whole pizza (newlywed tip: always keep a frozen pizza around in case of dinner disasters. It's a nice insurance policy). I get the chicken home before realizing I don't know what to do with this thing next. So I call mom back. She proceeds to tell me there's stuff inside it I have to get out. Say what???? I wasn't looking for all this intimacy with my poultry. I may as well have gone out and rung its neck and plucked the feathers myself.

Gross.

So I did what she said, and a traumatizing 30 minutes and a few more ingredients later, I had my masterpiece.

Yeah, he better enjoy this after what I went through.

Needless to say, it was terrible and most certainly not like my mom made it. But, Andy chose to be kind. He said it was great and even insisted on seconds while I had personally moved on to "cook" that insurance policy pizza for myself.

Not only did he eat the awful soup when it was hot, he took more to eat the next day for lunch. It was so sweet. I knew he was going the extra mile to build my confidence.

After lunch, he called me to tell me a "funny" story. "Do you know what I found in the soup?" he asked. Not the question a new cook wants to hear. "What?" I asked with trembling voice. "THE HEART!" Yep. During that stomach turning sweep of the chicken's cavity I left something behind. I was devastated, but he laughed and said he didn't care. In hindsight, I guess it's a good thing we had an extra heart around, since mine was broken. I wanted so badly to be what I envisioned as the perfect wife, and there was no way around being a great cook to fulfill that fantasy.

As I've gotten older and more experienced, I've learned that the idea of the "perfect wife" was a fallacy, but this dinner disaster showed me what real love is.

Love thinks about others before self. Love put my husband's desire for a good meal before my desire to not disassemble the chicken. Love put my need to feel successful above Andy's desire to push away the bowl. Love put that heart in the soup to show me that Andy didn't love the idea of a perfect wife, he loved the imperfect wife he had.

I needed this experience to shatter the fear that I had to live up to stereotypes. I'm the woman God created me to be and my husband wants me to be. Nothing else matters.

P.S. After this debacle, mom informed me you could just use pre-packaged chicken breasts, thanks for the late info.

Shattered

By the time my son was a year and a half old he was clearly a tech prodigy. He would steal my iPhone and face time or call his friends (his friends being my parents and our pastor, sometimes very early in the morning). At some point, after fighting a losing battle, I figured if he was that determined, at least I should fill my devices with educational apps so we can see something good come out of this obsession.

He loved the songs and the merriment and the games at his fingertips. He had access to the world, and it brought him great joy.

And seeing Kai experience joy gives me joy as well.

A couple of days ago, I let him use my iPad while I took an important phone call. About five minutes in, he started yelling, "mama, iPad!" "Yes, Kai, you have mama's iPad" I replied, trying to get him to settle down. He was insistent on pointing out something, "MAMA, iPAD!" I drew near to make a very disappointing discovery-the screen was shattered. Kai had decided to pretend my hairbrush was a hammer and bashed it into the device repeatedly.

I quickly scooped him up and removed him from the area that now harbored countless glass shards hiding in the carpet. I turned on the tablet to see if would still work at all. The software was fine, but when my thumb slipped across the screen I knew it was unusable, as my skin was torn open by the destruction left behind. Kai continued crying for his, "pie-pad" and we had to have a conversation about how his actions broke it and it would never be the same.

I would be lying if I said it didn't upset me. The funny part is that I wasn't upset that he had broken my expensive electronic, I was upset that he wouldn't have it for his enjoyment anymore.

A while later he came to me crying that his foot was hurt. Immediately, I figured out that a tiny piece of glass must have escaped the path of the vacuum cleaner. Just as I was about to point out that had he not destroyed the iPad he wouldn't have gotten hurt, I looked into the pain in his eyes. It just wasn't in me to belabor the point. I just checked his foot, kissed his "boo-boo", and got down on my hands and knees searching for more rogue pieces. I swept my arms back and forth on the carpet for at least 5 minutes, determined that if any glass remained, it should pierce me and not him.

This has been the story of mankind's relationship with God since the beginning. It's a cycle dating back to Eden of God giving us a means of great joy, trusting us with it, watching as we carelessly destroy it, and then looking on us with undeserved compassion and affection.

My dad used to tell me something his parents said to him- "you will never understand how much I love you until you have a child of your own." He was right. Not only has Kai shown me how my earthly father feels towards me, he has proven what my heavenly Father feels as well. When Kai came crying in pain that resulted from his poor choices, I couldn't help but be moved to compassion for him. When we come crying out to our Father in pain resulting from our poor choices, He is moved as well. It doesn't matter what our sinful decisions shattered-our relationships, jobs, bodies-when we cry out sincerely, He will come running to hold us.

As I looked at my hands at the end of the iPad ordeal, covered in cuts I chose to take in my son's place, the Lord reminded me that's what He did for me. Yes, I have to face earthly consequences for my poor decisions, but He bore the ultimate punishment so I wouldn't have to-and so you wouldn't have to either.

I know this may seem like a major leap to compare a broken iPad with the fall of humanity, but I'm a simple person with simple thoughts, and God spoke to me through the disaster area in my living room.