Tuesday, November 29, 2011

On Waiting With Anticipation {A Prayer}

Dear Heavenly Father, 

This isn't how you originally intended it, is it? The pain of a mother's labor, the tightening of a heart, the cancers that are firing at the human race, the beginnings of life that you delight in, yet are confiscated. This isn't at all what you intended when you created man out of a deep affection to walk with you in harmony and perfection.

But we believed the lie back in Eden, didn't we? And we still believe the subtle lies...it will not hurt you. Don't you know that you can choose for yourself, you can be your own god. Surely you will not die...and we're all heart-broken as a result. 

But, you, you were heart-broken before we ever were, weren't you? What have you done? I can only imagine how desperate that question may have sounded. For no longer were we in perfect union with you, as you had created us to be. The rift between God and man now existed.

And you are heart-broken over rape, murder, deceit, and disease. This wasn't what you intended. 

But you love us, knowing we fail time and time again. And because of that love, you made a way. Only one way would be severe enough to take on the massive sin as a result of the lies we buy into every day. Only you, the creator of mankind, could suffer the penalty for mankind. You made a way - Jesus.

And we wait and anticipate his coming, in the form of a baby this Christmas season, and on a white cloud on that glorious second coming when heaven comes down and restores Eden right here on earth. The place where we will walk in union with you, as you originally intended. 

Lord, give me strength to accept suffering when it comes, as a way to bring me to my knees and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are God. And you do not delight in my suffering, but delight in me, and will do anything to bring me home, in due time, to the place you are preparing, the garden, our walk together. Nothing is more important or so terrible as to waste this...eternity with you. Nothing.


In hopeful anticipation,
Theresa


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Monday, November 28, 2011

On Advent and Creating Traditions

We are officially in the Advent season and I am excited to get started on the right foot. So many years passed I have felt that the meaning of Christmas just simply got away from me in the hustle and bustle of the season. Well-intended, we threw in scripture and the Christmas story,  but the tree and the list and the gifts became all-consuming and before I knew it, it was Christmas Eve and I felt like the last twenty-four days had been a complete whirlwind.

This year, however, I have a great start to some wonderful traditions to help keep our focus every day up to Christmas.

I have printed out Ann Voskamp's Jesse Tree Advent Family Devotional (Jesse being David's father, the royal line to Jesus) for our morning devotion, which is based on this verse:
A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit...In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his place of rest will be glorious. Isa 11:1, 10
We've been coloring and cutting out the ornaments, that go with each day leading up to Christmas, for the Jesse tree. I wasn't sure what to use for my tree, so I made due with what I had around the house and came up with this. It's meant to be one shoot, but we're using our imaginations there. It's pretty earthy with a little dazzle, but I like it. That's my style.


For our afternoons, after school and homework, we have the Family Book of Advent activity book. This is a great little book that incorporates something hands-on for each of the devotions, which is great for kids! Our first project was making a wreath designed to emphasize the names of Jesus. As we go through the devotions this Advent season, for any name of Jesus that we discover, we create a star, write the name on it and add it to the wreath.


 Finally, I am excited to read the children each night before bed Tabitha's Travels: A Family Story for Advent, which takes a character and tells a story of Advent through that character. I love that for our children, too, because they also learn through storytelling.

If  that seems like a lot for every day, it's really not. We're just plugging in to the times we already have carved out of our days. We do a devotion every morning, usually coloring or a craft in the afternoons, and always stories before bed. The theme for the month is simply Advent: the coming of our Lord.

And of course, we'll light the Advent candle each Sunday with a family devotion up until Christmas.

There are so many things that we could do to help turn our focus to Christ, in the way of service and action, and undoubtedly we'll incorporate other ideas that come to mind along the way. However, this is where we are starting. We'll see what works, what doesn't work, and we'll add to the traditions next year.

That is what I have found works best when forming routines, habits, or traditions. Start with something manageable. Once that becomes a practice, add to it the next manageable thing.

Whatever we do, however, the most important thing is that we are finding ways to point our eyes to Christ through the anticipation of his coming.

What are you doing this year to intentionally turn your focus to Christ?







Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The One Less Rule: A Game {Or Maybe A Way Of Life}

When we buy extras or do something special for our children I tend to think in terms of, "one for everybody." When I think about why I have that tendency I know that it is, not only to make it as easy as possible on us, but  more so, to make my children feel as comfortable and happy as possible. Yet, in my desire to make my children comfortable and happy or even to make our life easier, I inadvertently train them to be selfish and I withhold from them opportunities to learn to be intentional about giving and thinking outside of them selves. Now I am not going so far as to suggest that we should not or will never give each of our children something for themselves. However, the thought coaxes the idea for a game, a practice, that takes our focus off of our selves and puts it on the less fortunate.

I call it The One Less Rule.

We intentionally buy or give one less item than the number of children we have...

not exactly half so we share in twos, making it easy...

not just one and we all share the one, making it fair...

but one less, so only one is without...

because in reality our children have abundantly, not the other way around. In our great country the majority will always have plenty and the minority will be easily looked down upon or overlooked. The one with less or without could be in the way of material things, but also in self esteem, status, popularity, health, etc. But where ever the poverty, we train our children to be watchful of and considering always the one who has less or is without.

So they'll take turns - being the one without and they will go out of their way to find the one without and then be the first to give their token. The reality is that it's no fun to be the isolated one without, even in a game, but our goal would be that the one without never feels isolated in their poverty. Rather plentiful on the receiving end of kindness and generosity. That is what we hope to instill in our children. 

May what starts as a game become a practice and the practice become a way of life, for this is the training ground for our children to become men and women of upright and godly character.

Happy Thanksgiving! May this day be filled with abundance and generosity, and may we never forget our beginnings.


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Wednesday, November 16, 2011

What Being Desperate Really Boils Down To

I wrote this yesterday and then was hit, by the end of the day, with the reality of what being desperate really boils down to when everything around you crumbles.



When your seven year old comes home from school and you learn that he is testing boundaries there, as he is at home, and you feel helpless in his absence and the weight of the unknown for his tomorrow.

When you're pulled in four different directions as four children are needing and chaos is pounding lies into your head, playing off the message that you've got to have it all together, but you never will all of the time.

And when you determine that you will not be angry as you shuffle each one to a place of quiet and sweep the littlest one up in your arms, plop yourselves on the couch and hold her close. Then offer the other three up because you cannot be in all four places and you just can't reach all four hearts at the same time all of the time.

And you sit there and love on one who is representing all and let the tears flow because all you really want is for them to know Jesus, and you wonder why you don't come to this place often enough.


The place where dry land meets living water and you recognize you will whither without it and you cast your burdens and their burdens on Him because you must believe that He is able to do the very thing that you can't.

Another enters the room and I pull her in close. I open a book and read aloud in a peaceful place, as I hear two more playing separately in the distance, and I know that everything will be okay.









{photo credit}

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

On Being Desperate For Our Children

Last Thursday was our communities pregnancy center's (Legacy Pregnancy and Resource Center) annual fundraising banquet with Pam Tebow as the keynote speaker. I, along with the core planning team, had the privilege of joining Pam for brunch last Thursday morning and I was intent on gleaning what ever I could from this amazing woman and mother. Although I am not posting today on the points of her presentation for the banquet, I am writing on what she left me personally in the few minutes I had small talk with her.

In telling Pam how I respected her as a mother and wondered what advice she would give a mother like me, she gave me these two nuggets:

1. Be desperate for your children
2. Pray scripture over your children

You know, you almost have to be desperate for them...


This resonated with me and I loved that she affirmed it.

In our culture, I feel like we're taught not to be desperate for anything, except all the wrong things. We've got to have it together and when it comes to our children, we play  it cool. We want to feel normal, fit in and we want our children to fit in.

But to me, being desperate for our children means desiring the very opposite of normal for them. Rather, we desire that they be different, that they stand out, that they will make a difference in this world and leave a legacy for the next generation.

Being desperate for our children to me means fighting for their hearts everyday. Fighting against all of the counter-active messages our children are receiving. Guarding their eyes, ears, and hearts while they are cocooned in our care. Making necessary sacrifices. Doing what is inconvenient and even unpopular.

Being desperate for our children to me means that we are drawn to our knees and there is simply no other way to parent than on our knees because we know that what we desire for them is more than what we have offer. But God empowers us and ultimately draws our children to Himself as we pray for them. He alone is in control of the legacy they will leave.

The first definition I found for the word desperate was, "to lose all hope." In other words, we need to lose all hope of our own capabilities as parents and the ability to have it all together. Lose all hope in order that we fully entrust our children to God, drawing from his Spirit constantly to parent them.

Pray Deuteronomy 30 over them...
The Lord your God will circumcise your hearts and the hearts of your descendants, so that you may love him with all your heart and with all your soul, and live. Deuteronomy 30:6
I don't always know how to pray for my children; how to put this sense of desperation into words. Without hesitation, Pam gave me this verse.

This resonated, too, because I recognized that I don't have to have my own words. I can, with all my heart, pray scripture and truth over my children.

When we invest our hearts, time and prayer - pouring into these children, we are not only raising up the next generation, but we are making an eternal impact.

Pam's succinct words resounded in me that, once again,we don't have to settle for mediocre. We certainly don't have to be perfect. We just have to be desperate enough for our children, for their hearts, and for them to leave a legacy of passion in Christ Jesus for generations to come.

 How does the idea of being desperate for your children resonate with you?

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Monday, November 7, 2011

On Sisters and a Beth Moore Conference

This past weekend was a time of refreshment and renewal for me. Four of my sisters and I drove two hours away to where our fifth sister lives (yes, there are six of us all together within 150 miles of each other) to have our bi-annual sister time together and for this get-together, to hear Beth Moore speak! It was the first time four of my sisters had ever listened to Beth Moore and it was truly a treat for all of us. We laughed, we cried, we worshiped, we prayed, we stayed up too late talking, sharing and counseling one another; we ate good food, exchanged gifts and drank early morning coffee together.

The bond that we already had got a little stronger and the roots of the legacy that binds the generations to come grew a little deeper through this beautiful and powerful weekend.


Beth lined out eight points, in order to be transformed from lame (crippled) to leaping, of which she delved into with her ever-so applicable, enlightening, and always with humor way, over the two-day weekend. I thought I'd share those here, along with a few tidbits of what I got out of the conference.

Beth spoke from Acts 3:1-14. I'll quote Acts 3:6, the meat of it, to give you some context:

Speaking to the lame beggar...
But Peter said, “Silver and gold have I none, but what I have, that I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!
The eight points:

1. We are all begging for something.

We all have a need and we're going somewhere for its fulfillment.

2. Sometimes we beg for the lesser thing we need.

As with the lame beggar, who is begging for money, what he really needs are legs to walk. Yet he begs for the lesser need because people cannot fulfill the greater need. He keeps looking beyond to the next person not really looking at one of them, begging for help to satisfy the very condition he is in. Peter says to the beggar, "Look at me!"


We, too, can constantly be looking on to the next thing and allow distractions to keep us from seeing what is right in front of us. Get  focused. Stop moving from one thing or person to the next. Expect more from God and live a life of focused passion in Christ Jesus.


And from Peter's perspective, we tend to sigh in our mediacrecy over what we don't have but we, too, can say, "but what I have I give you." 


3. Sometimes what we need from a person is just a hand.

Sometimes it just takes a warm hand of faith from someone to see what Jesus has already done.

4. Nothing will leave us as lame as trying to make gods of people.

Beth stated that when people become idols they become ugly - because that is not what we were created for and we do not know what to do with it (look at Michael Jackson, for example). We were created to worship God alone and He alone can handle our worship.


I loved that and I love her humility. She shared that years ago she put a stop to signing books at conferences because she was so "grossed out" by people leaving their seats early to get in line for the book signing. In other words, don't you dare idolize me! The glory is in Christ alone.


5. To experience the true magnitude of our healing, we have to stop clinging and start walking.

Acts 3:7 says that the lame man walked into the temple with Peter and John, "walking, leaping, and praising God." the man clearly let go of Peter and John after they helped him up.


We cannot leap if we are still clinging onto someone's neck. 

6. Those who have learned to walk are also called to talk.

7. We can't force healing on people.

8. God can use our healing to make others want theirs.

I was a little tired in the end for the lack of sleep the night before, but it was an awesome, life-giving weekend. I know what I am begging for and I'm going straight to the Source of Life for it. I am trusting God with the lives and salvation of my children to continue a legacy of passion in Jesus Christ throughout generations to come. In the mean time, I'm going to enjoy what is right in front of me and continue to determine not to miss a moment.

Sharing with Finding Heaven and Graceful.




Thursday, November 3, 2011

In Which Grace Is Found



I jolt from my sleep to the sound of her cry. With my cheek sunken into the pillow, my thoughts will that the sound will stop. My eyelids fall shut again. It seems they just gave way to the weight of the day and the book that lies beside me. I hear it again. My body is tense and I haven't been woken like this in months. I've gotten used to calculating my days down to the hour, where I finally have time to breathe, rest and refuel.

I lie wondering if she is just searching for that comfortable position like she does, or if something is really wrong. She didn't have a fever all day yesterday and the doctor said her ears were just fine.

I lie there waiting, not wanting to fully wake up and I think about those cuspid teeth I had suspected were coming in earlier. Just as I begin to relax, I hear it again and throw back the blankets. I know it's not the "I need my blankie" kind of cry. Creeping into her room, I adjust the light to see her sitting up, hand over her ear again, or is it her cheek?

I  gently pick her up, reach for the Tylenol and sit with her after giving her a dose. With her head pressed against my chest, she straddles my waist. I had forgotten how soothing the weight of her feels in the dim night. I soon hear her breathing heavy again and I think about lying her down. But the weight of her pressed against me restrains me and I just hold her.

With my arms wrapped around her frame, I close my eyes thankful for the disturbance of my rest. I'm thankful for the weight of the day that I traded for the weight of her, and I realize that this is where grace is found–always in the un-calculated moments.


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