I've been procrastinating this post for awhile - my first public thoughts since moving. Mostly because my thoughts haven't been fit for public consumption. Even now, I'm uncomfortably aware of the need to temper my thoughts and feelings with grace, because the honest truth is that deep down, I'm a grumpy, selfish 36-week-pregnant lady. But the even deeper truth is that God is so good to us, and has used the crucible of these last few weeks to teach me more about the depths of His grace than I ever expected.
On May 3, our little family moved in with Joel's parents and sister. We now outnumber the native inhabitants of the house, and will soon add a newborn to the mix. So when I think all my cranky thoughts about not having my own washer and dryer, my own kitchen, my own 1800 square feet in which to nest, the first thing I ought to remind myself (but usually fail to do so) is that we are not the ones who are being inconvenienced here. We are being welcomed, accommodated, and blessed by the generosity and hospitality of our family.
Two weeks in, and I'm finally starting to feel like I know which way is up. I'm starting to brainstorm what our routine could look like (Monday morning going to the park with some other mommas, including my dear sister in law and her kids; Wednesdays, library story time or Moms' Bible study depending on the week...). It helps me to anchor my days and weeks a bit, at least until baby brother arrives and throws everything off-kilter again. This morning we even ventured into Bible verse review at breakfast, something that hasn't crossed my mind in weeks, possibly months.
The first few days were some of the most emotionally intense times of my life. Battling exhaustion, unpacking our bare necessities into 1/20th (rough estimate) of the space we usually live in, changing my definition of necessity. We attended church the morning after we got here and the emotions felt like a punch to the gut. Walking into a church that I've visited over the past ten years as a girlfriend, fiance, and then wife to the pastor's son, suddenly felt oppressive and too much. The same warm hugs and smiles that previously felt so welcoming, now struck me as intrusive. I couldn't fight the mental repetition of, "This isn't my church family. My church family is a hundred miles away in a 200-year-old country church with stained glass windows that make it too hot in the sun, worshipping without me."
I realized then that I needed time to process, time to adjust, and time to, honestly, grieve. The past few weeks were such a whirlwind of packing and organizing and doing that I hadn't had much time to experience the feelings that go along with such a major transition. And by transition, I mean leaving absolutely everything familiar and beloved. Sure, we were heading toward many more things that were already familiar and beloved, as well as new and abundant blessings from the Lord, but at the same time there was a profound sense of loss that hit me like a brick.
I drove away from my job, my career, to become a stay at home mom on a Thursday. And two days later, I watched all my worldly possessions parade from my home into a truck, and finally and unceremoniously into two big, empty, windowless storage units. I said tearful goodbyes to best friends and dearest nannies. I threw gigantic silent pity parties for myself.
But you know what? God has been so good. Two weeks later, and I've gone shooting with the "Annie Oakley Club" from my new church (honestly I watched everyone else shoot because the gunshots sent baby brother into elbow-throwing hysterics, but it was still fun!), the ladies of my new church home are throwing a small "Baby Sprinkle" for us this Saturday to help us feel welcome (which we do!), and I played the piano for worship on Sunday. I've exchanged smiles, hugs, and stories with old and new friends. I've even determined the exact most helpful angle for the ironing board in the basement as I press Joel's work clothes every night. The roses are slowly outnumbering the thorns in this whole process, and it's not the circumstances that are changing; it's my heart.
Showing posts with label Lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lessons. Show all posts
A Bigger Teddy Bear, or a Bigger Jesus
I saw this graphic recently posted on Facebook:
I'm not re-posting it here to pick on those who shared it or "Liked" it. In fact, there are many times and many reasons to believe that God has wonderful gifts in store for His children.
Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give a hope and a future."
Matthew 7:11 "If you then being evil give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"
Psalm 65:9-13 "You visit the earth and cause it to overflow; You greatly enrich it; The stream of God is full of water; You prepare their grain, for thus You prepare the earth. You water its furrows abundantly, You settle its ridges, You soften it with showers, You bless its growth. You have crowned the year with Your bounty, And Your paths drip with fatness."
We go confidently to our tender Father with our needs and requests, and He very often blesses us abundantly. But what I want to comment on is my initial reaction to this picture, and the spiritual danger I think is lurking just around the corner from this kind of thinking. I'm processing "out loud" here, because this hit me very directly in my current, transient, context. This struck a chord, as you will soon find out, because it is precisely what the Lord has been teaching me during these painfully emotional, and searingly intimate, few weeks alone with Himself.
My honest, gut-level reaction to this at first was, "Oh, God had me give up my house/church family/job so that He could give me even better. I wonder what our next house will be like! I bet it will be awesome! Yay!!" Major silent partying and recalling of the above proof-texts ensued.
Is this kind of optimism sinful? Nah. Again, Scripture is replete with descriptions of God as good, generous, and abundantly giving. But I realized almost as soon as the thoughts crossed my mind that I was toeing the line of presumption with God's faithfulness. Does the promise that He has plans to prosper me really mean that my next house will have four bedrooms with walk-in closets, central air, granite countertops, and maybe even a laundry chute? Or is it possible that His will for me is that I learn the discipline of opening my hands to surrender what I hold precious, whether He has a bigger teddy bear to give me or simply His own strong hand to slip into mine. I rather think it's the latter.
Am I frequently tempted to worry about what our next house will be like, and when we might be able to move into it? A resounding yes to that one. I doubt I should console myself with the thought that our next house will probably be a Victorian mansion with a wraparound porch. What if it isn't? Is God any less faithful? Is He any less good? What if He took my teddy bear in order to teach me reliance on Himself? Perhaps, instead of illustrating Psalm 65, He is rather showing me Philippians 4:11-13: "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me."
Do I feel reluctant to dive into relationships with new friends in our new church? The pain of leaving dear friends behind is still fresh. And here I seriously don't think the analogy holds up - the people in New Jersey are neither bigger nor fluffier (nor more friendly, nor better cooks, nor more like us, etc.) than those we left behind in Lancaster County. I have to believe that the process of surrender of these relationships, and my church home, has far more to do with learning to trust and abide in Christ while it is just Him and me, here in the in-between.
Is it a huge adjustment to give up being a Licensed Clinical Psychologist? Was it a swallowing of pride to pack my big, gorgeous doctoral degree in its fancy, professional frame into a box with all my curtains? Absolutely no doubt there. Am I giving up that calling for one that is far more glamorous and with a higher earning potential? Well...that part, not so much. Filling out paperwork at my new midwives' office a few weeks ago was pretty humbling as, for the first time, I wrote "mom" on the Occupation line instead of "Psychologist". That's another blog post for another day, and many far more qualified SAHMs have written on the subject already, but what I'm saying is that I didn't let go of my career in order to gain something immediately or obviously bigger and better. I just became a homemaker without a home, for crying out loud.
No, giving up these things was a sacrifice. As in, it has sucked. My heart has been completely broken, and I have felt utterly rent from all that I loved. (Drama much? PREGNANT.) Sometimes I focus far too much on the painful parts of the sacrifice and feel just a bit like a martyr. And as I have spent appropriate time grieving that which has been surrendered, I have felt lonely, out of place, mentally disjointed. I've also felt, acutely, my spiritual vulnerability - how Satan delights in using our emotional weakness as a foothold to ensnare us in old, besetting sins! The Lord gently, but firmly, used this time to lift my eyes (barely) to Himself; to illustrate in living color my need to seek comfort from Him rather than in myself and familiar sins (it might stink, but it's warm and it's mine, as the saying goes).
Going into this move, Joel and I fully believed that this was the Lord's will for our family. We still do. In my more rational moments, I acknowledge the great blessing that is living so close to (actually, with) family as we welcome our third child. His new job provides for me to stay home with our children, a decision we reached before knowing how He would provide. In so many ways, our current circumstance is an utter blessing. So to stretch the metaphor, we live these days with one hand on the bigger teddy bear, wondering what it's really like.
But the journey has been far more soul-baring than I ever anticipated. The past two weeks have been a mirror revealing my sinful heart, and a window into the unplumbable depths of God's grace. I wish I could convey to you in words how tender He has been with me even while I have suffered through grieving and adjusting. I'm still not there 100%. But I can testify that He did not call me to surrender my old life for the purpose of (immediately, anyway) replacing it with bigger and more dazzling blessings. No, I am persuaded that He opened my clenched fist to release what I loved, in order that I might grow to love Him more. He emptied my heart to fill it with Himself, in a way that would never have been possible while enjoying creature comforts and, you know, control over my life. And this is far more precious than whatever He has in store for us six months down the road, guaranteed.
So friends, I guess my point to all this is that when the Lord calls you to great sacrifice, or great loss, or great suffering, don't fall prey to the theology that paints God as a cosmic genie and one who seeks to bless you in solely human terms. You will come away sorely disillusioned. Sometimes He blesses us in ways that are easy for our eyes to see. But at other times, the blessing is in the pain that drives us to greater intimacy with our heavenly Father, whose greatest desire is to fill us, not only or always with milk and honey, but with Himself.
This is probably not anything new or particularly illuminating for all of you who have surpassed me already in Christlikeness (I can be a little slow), but for me it's transformational. And in some ways, the cartoon above is accurate, if you look at the bigger teddy bear as simply, generically, "what I know is better for you", not necessarily something that will look more appealing in the moment. I can be ornery toward Facebook-promulgated "Christian" things, but I try not to be unduly so. What is right on the mark is Jesus' gentle urging to just trust God's provision.
To my old life: I still miss you. I will always miss you. Lancaster County might be my geographical and cultural soulmate. See: Achenbach's pastries, whoopie pies, canning applesauce.
But in the words of a hymn that has grown sweeter to my heart of late:
"I do not ask to see the way my feet would have to tread,
But only that my soul would feed upon the living Bread.
Tis better far that I should walk by faith close to His side;
I may not know the way I go, but oh I know my guide.
And if my feet would go stray, they cannot, for I know
That Jesus guides my falt'ring steps as joyfully I go.
And though I may not see His face, my faith is strong and clear,
That in each hour of sore distress my Savior will be near.
I will not fear, though darkness come abroad o'er all the land,
If I may only feel the touch of His own loving hand.
And though I tremble when I think how weak I am, and frail,
My soul is satisfied to know His love can never fail."
["His Love Can Never Fail," E.S. Hall]
My prayer today is that the Lord would be made greater in my weakness, and that I would not grumble too loudly for Him to be heard. And that I would always be willing to give up my teddy bear to draw nearer to my Savior. Soli deo gloria!
I'm not re-posting it here to pick on those who shared it or "Liked" it. In fact, there are many times and many reasons to believe that God has wonderful gifts in store for His children.
Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give a hope and a future."
Matthew 7:11 "If you then being evil give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"
Psalm 65:9-13 "You visit the earth and cause it to overflow; You greatly enrich it; The stream of God is full of water; You prepare their grain, for thus You prepare the earth. You water its furrows abundantly, You settle its ridges, You soften it with showers, You bless its growth. You have crowned the year with Your bounty, And Your paths drip with fatness."
We go confidently to our tender Father with our needs and requests, and He very often blesses us abundantly. But what I want to comment on is my initial reaction to this picture, and the spiritual danger I think is lurking just around the corner from this kind of thinking. I'm processing "out loud" here, because this hit me very directly in my current, transient, context. This struck a chord, as you will soon find out, because it is precisely what the Lord has been teaching me during these painfully emotional, and searingly intimate, few weeks alone with Himself.
My honest, gut-level reaction to this at first was, "Oh, God had me give up my house/church family/job so that He could give me even better. I wonder what our next house will be like! I bet it will be awesome! Yay!!" Major silent partying and recalling of the above proof-texts ensued.
Is this kind of optimism sinful? Nah. Again, Scripture is replete with descriptions of God as good, generous, and abundantly giving. But I realized almost as soon as the thoughts crossed my mind that I was toeing the line of presumption with God's faithfulness. Does the promise that He has plans to prosper me really mean that my next house will have four bedrooms with walk-in closets, central air, granite countertops, and maybe even a laundry chute? Or is it possible that His will for me is that I learn the discipline of opening my hands to surrender what I hold precious, whether He has a bigger teddy bear to give me or simply His own strong hand to slip into mine. I rather think it's the latter.
Am I frequently tempted to worry about what our next house will be like, and when we might be able to move into it? A resounding yes to that one. I doubt I should console myself with the thought that our next house will probably be a Victorian mansion with a wraparound porch. What if it isn't? Is God any less faithful? Is He any less good? What if He took my teddy bear in order to teach me reliance on Himself? Perhaps, instead of illustrating Psalm 65, He is rather showing me Philippians 4:11-13: "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me."
Do I feel reluctant to dive into relationships with new friends in our new church? The pain of leaving dear friends behind is still fresh. And here I seriously don't think the analogy holds up - the people in New Jersey are neither bigger nor fluffier (nor more friendly, nor better cooks, nor more like us, etc.) than those we left behind in Lancaster County. I have to believe that the process of surrender of these relationships, and my church home, has far more to do with learning to trust and abide in Christ while it is just Him and me, here in the in-between.
Is it a huge adjustment to give up being a Licensed Clinical Psychologist? Was it a swallowing of pride to pack my big, gorgeous doctoral degree in its fancy, professional frame into a box with all my curtains? Absolutely no doubt there. Am I giving up that calling for one that is far more glamorous and with a higher earning potential? Well...that part, not so much. Filling out paperwork at my new midwives' office a few weeks ago was pretty humbling as, for the first time, I wrote "mom" on the Occupation line instead of "Psychologist". That's another blog post for another day, and many far more qualified SAHMs have written on the subject already, but what I'm saying is that I didn't let go of my career in order to gain something immediately or obviously bigger and better. I just became a homemaker without a home, for crying out loud.
No, giving up these things was a sacrifice. As in, it has sucked. My heart has been completely broken, and I have felt utterly rent from all that I loved. (Drama much? PREGNANT.) Sometimes I focus far too much on the painful parts of the sacrifice and feel just a bit like a martyr. And as I have spent appropriate time grieving that which has been surrendered, I have felt lonely, out of place, mentally disjointed. I've also felt, acutely, my spiritual vulnerability - how Satan delights in using our emotional weakness as a foothold to ensnare us in old, besetting sins! The Lord gently, but firmly, used this time to lift my eyes (barely) to Himself; to illustrate in living color my need to seek comfort from Him rather than in myself and familiar sins (it might stink, but it's warm and it's mine, as the saying goes).
Going into this move, Joel and I fully believed that this was the Lord's will for our family. We still do. In my more rational moments, I acknowledge the great blessing that is living so close to (actually, with) family as we welcome our third child. His new job provides for me to stay home with our children, a decision we reached before knowing how He would provide. In so many ways, our current circumstance is an utter blessing. So to stretch the metaphor, we live these days with one hand on the bigger teddy bear, wondering what it's really like.
But the journey has been far more soul-baring than I ever anticipated. The past two weeks have been a mirror revealing my sinful heart, and a window into the unplumbable depths of God's grace. I wish I could convey to you in words how tender He has been with me even while I have suffered through grieving and adjusting. I'm still not there 100%. But I can testify that He did not call me to surrender my old life for the purpose of (immediately, anyway) replacing it with bigger and more dazzling blessings. No, I am persuaded that He opened my clenched fist to release what I loved, in order that I might grow to love Him more. He emptied my heart to fill it with Himself, in a way that would never have been possible while enjoying creature comforts and, you know, control over my life. And this is far more precious than whatever He has in store for us six months down the road, guaranteed.
So friends, I guess my point to all this is that when the Lord calls you to great sacrifice, or great loss, or great suffering, don't fall prey to the theology that paints God as a cosmic genie and one who seeks to bless you in solely human terms. You will come away sorely disillusioned. Sometimes He blesses us in ways that are easy for our eyes to see. But at other times, the blessing is in the pain that drives us to greater intimacy with our heavenly Father, whose greatest desire is to fill us, not only or always with milk and honey, but with Himself.
This is probably not anything new or particularly illuminating for all of you who have surpassed me already in Christlikeness (I can be a little slow), but for me it's transformational. And in some ways, the cartoon above is accurate, if you look at the bigger teddy bear as simply, generically, "what I know is better for you", not necessarily something that will look more appealing in the moment. I can be ornery toward Facebook-promulgated "Christian" things, but I try not to be unduly so. What is right on the mark is Jesus' gentle urging to just trust God's provision.
To my old life: I still miss you. I will always miss you. Lancaster County might be my geographical and cultural soulmate. See: Achenbach's pastries, whoopie pies, canning applesauce.
But in the words of a hymn that has grown sweeter to my heart of late:
"I do not ask to see the way my feet would have to tread,
But only that my soul would feed upon the living Bread.
Tis better far that I should walk by faith close to His side;
I may not know the way I go, but oh I know my guide.
And if my feet would go stray, they cannot, for I know
That Jesus guides my falt'ring steps as joyfully I go.
And though I may not see His face, my faith is strong and clear,
That in each hour of sore distress my Savior will be near.
I will not fear, though darkness come abroad o'er all the land,
If I may only feel the touch of His own loving hand.
And though I tremble when I think how weak I am, and frail,
My soul is satisfied to know His love can never fail."
["His Love Can Never Fail," E.S. Hall]
My prayer today is that the Lord would be made greater in my weakness, and that I would not grumble too loudly for Him to be heard. And that I would always be willing to give up my teddy bear to draw nearer to my Savior. Soli deo gloria!
Oh, the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus
I'm feeling very pregnant today, and discouraged about how pregnant I feel. That fine line between nausea and hunger, dizzy when I stand up, and so tired I could nod off mid-sent...zzzzzzz....
Sorry.
Bible study is tonight at our house, and it's a wreck at the moment. I worked yesterday and had a meeting this morning so nothing's been very well looked-after. While it's heartening to know that neither dadda nor the nanny can replace me in running our home, it's also slightly overwhelming to see what's left to do. Halloween costumes lie unfinished, waiting to be sewn together. Pots and pans line my kitchen counter, which is unfit for making dinner in a few hours, let alone hosting company and baking the pumpkin roll that I had hoped to offer them. Shoot, even my chocolate pudding is next to me unfinished. My stomach can't even follow through on that one small thing.
Honestly, I could cry. I blame a combination of hormones and circumstances. My feeling, my inner monologue is something like this: There is so much to do, so much I am failing at today, and I am not enough for it all. Wow, putting that into words actually bid tears into my eyes.
Can you relate? Are you a momma, or any hardworking person whose shortcomings sometimes (regularly?) leap up before your eyes, taunting you into giving up on your day, your dreams, yourself?
I am not enough. That is the awful, sweet, blessed truth. That same knowledge both undoes and saves me. "Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved." The same grace that shows my failings also lights the way to my salvation.
There is this great lie that we tell each other: "God will never give you more than you can handle." I'm sorry, but God has regularly and often given me more than I can handle. Nowhere and at no time has He promised to only give us what our humanity can bear. The promise is far bigger than that! God is faithful to overwhelm me, to crack and chafe my weakness into actual brokenness before His throne.
"For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives"
"God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?"
"For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." [Hebrews 12: 6, 7, and 11]
And the very next verse?
"Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed." [12:12]
And in Ephesians:
"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith - that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do abundantly more than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." [3:14-21]
Did you hear that, precious brothers and sisters? Though my head droops low, though my feelings and my very body tell me that I am defeated, empty, not enough, Christ dwells in my heart. I, rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend the vast dimensions of that love. Not empowered to clean my kitchen or tidy the living room, necessarily. And perhaps not even strengthened to rise from the couch in the next hour. But the strength in my inner being to simply be turned toward Christ, and to be filled with all the fullness of God. I can rest my spirit and my body in that saving knowledge.
The Lord blesses us with weakness so that His grace might be magnified, as Paul writes, "But he [the Lord] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." [2 Cor. 12:9]
And in John 3:30, "He must increase, and I must decrease."
God is most glorified in my weakness when I cast my eyes and heart upon Him, not when I wallow there and mourn my failure. I am a failure, but one who has been promised a crown of glory. I am not destined to remain exhausted and discouraged forever, but predestined to be adopted as a daughter of Jehovah Jireh, our provider, El Shaddai, the all sufficient. Before the foundation of the world, God promised me to Jesus Christ as part of His people, His inheritance of nations, and Christ in His work on the cross closed his fist around me. I am given and bought from all eternity. Far from a "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" or "God helps those who help themselvese" message, this is a glorious "you can do nothing, but I have done all things"promise!
So in my weakness, in my suffering, let me be reminded of my fragile state and great need. But let me also be moved on to great rejoicing and exultant song. The very longing of my heart after help from the Lord is proof that He's breathed life into these bones. His presence is life to me, hallelujah! The truth shepherds my emotions now, and instead of feeling empty I suddenly feel myself topped off to the brim and overflowing with spiritual riches.
"For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere." [Psalm 84:10]
and
"Enter his courts with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him, bless his name!" [Psalm 100]
Not only that, but what a metaphor is pregnancy - feeling so empty and depleted, but in truth, so full of blessing and life!
SDG!
Sorry.
Bible study is tonight at our house, and it's a wreck at the moment. I worked yesterday and had a meeting this morning so nothing's been very well looked-after. While it's heartening to know that neither dadda nor the nanny can replace me in running our home, it's also slightly overwhelming to see what's left to do. Halloween costumes lie unfinished, waiting to be sewn together. Pots and pans line my kitchen counter, which is unfit for making dinner in a few hours, let alone hosting company and baking the pumpkin roll that I had hoped to offer them. Shoot, even my chocolate pudding is next to me unfinished. My stomach can't even follow through on that one small thing.
Honestly, I could cry. I blame a combination of hormones and circumstances. My feeling, my inner monologue is something like this: There is so much to do, so much I am failing at today, and I am not enough for it all. Wow, putting that into words actually bid tears into my eyes.
Can you relate? Are you a momma, or any hardworking person whose shortcomings sometimes (regularly?) leap up before your eyes, taunting you into giving up on your day, your dreams, yourself?
I am not enough. That is the awful, sweet, blessed truth. That same knowledge both undoes and saves me. "Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved." The same grace that shows my failings also lights the way to my salvation.
There is this great lie that we tell each other: "God will never give you more than you can handle." I'm sorry, but God has regularly and often given me more than I can handle. Nowhere and at no time has He promised to only give us what our humanity can bear. The promise is far bigger than that! God is faithful to overwhelm me, to crack and chafe my weakness into actual brokenness before His throne.
"For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives"
"God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?"
"For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." [Hebrews 12: 6, 7, and 11]
And the very next verse?
"Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed." [12:12]
And in Ephesians:
"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith - that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do abundantly more than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." [3:14-21]
Did you hear that, precious brothers and sisters? Though my head droops low, though my feelings and my very body tell me that I am defeated, empty, not enough, Christ dwells in my heart. I, rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend the vast dimensions of that love. Not empowered to clean my kitchen or tidy the living room, necessarily. And perhaps not even strengthened to rise from the couch in the next hour. But the strength in my inner being to simply be turned toward Christ, and to be filled with all the fullness of God. I can rest my spirit and my body in that saving knowledge.
The Lord blesses us with weakness so that His grace might be magnified, as Paul writes, "But he [the Lord] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." [2 Cor. 12:9]
And in John 3:30, "He must increase, and I must decrease."
God is most glorified in my weakness when I cast my eyes and heart upon Him, not when I wallow there and mourn my failure. I am a failure, but one who has been promised a crown of glory. I am not destined to remain exhausted and discouraged forever, but predestined to be adopted as a daughter of Jehovah Jireh, our provider, El Shaddai, the all sufficient. Before the foundation of the world, God promised me to Jesus Christ as part of His people, His inheritance of nations, and Christ in His work on the cross closed his fist around me. I am given and bought from all eternity. Far from a "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" or "God helps those who help themselvese" message, this is a glorious "you can do nothing, but I have done all things"promise!
So in my weakness, in my suffering, let me be reminded of my fragile state and great need. But let me also be moved on to great rejoicing and exultant song. The very longing of my heart after help from the Lord is proof that He's breathed life into these bones. His presence is life to me, hallelujah! The truth shepherds my emotions now, and instead of feeling empty I suddenly feel myself topped off to the brim and overflowing with spiritual riches.
"For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere." [Psalm 84:10]
and
"Enter his courts with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him, bless his name!" [Psalm 100]
Not only that, but what a metaphor is pregnancy - feeling so empty and depleted, but in truth, so full of blessing and life!
SDG!
Dry Nights and a Delighted Father
Mikayla has now spent two out of the last three nights dry in her big-girl undies!
She also today did some long-awaited serious business in her potty, if you know what I mean.
I know that a two and a half year old going #2 in her potty and staying dry overnight don't sound like very lofty things, they do cause me to reflect on a spiritual parallel.
Stay with me.
Our God delights in the good obedience of His children. As we heard today in worship, His reward of our obedience is still a gift of grace. Our best works are yet stained with sin, and gain us no ground before a just and holy God. But if I, a fallen, imperfect momma, experience real joy when I see my daughter finally reach a simple, yet important, milestone...does our Lord, who loves us perfectly, somehow display the heavenly equivalent of clapping and jumping up and down in the blue bathroom when He helps me make a breakthrough in my sanctification?
I don't mean to sound flippant. What I mean is that I clapped and jumped out of sheer exuberance because I couldn't not celebrate with my daughter. The joy on her little face! So I have to think that God, our tender Father, perhaps when He sees me overcome a temptation that previously brought me low, experiences a genuine and overflowing joy to see my obedient response.
This is still within the bounds of grace, as my obedience only results from His Spirit at work in my life, and that after He drew me to Himself in Christ. Perhaps the analogy holds up, if the comparison is with my persistent teaching and discipline as I have encouraged Mikayla to obey me. So when she does obey, whether it is using the potty or finally staying in her bed, I could pat myself on the back for a parenting job well done. But I am usually far more focused on her role in obedience, that she has finally internalized and responded to our teaching.
So God of course realizes that we could not obey without His help, but perhaps His delight comes from seeing us take small, yet meaningful steps forward in our sanctification.
The Christian life takes a lot of work, but it is nice on a Lord's day to really reflect on the frank enjoyment that our Father takes in our progress. Obedience does not merit simply a checkmark on a holy list somewhere, but a tender smile and perhaps loving applause, while His heart dances as mine does over my daughter's accomplishments.
And lest you think I am all smart and meditative today, I accidentally typed "applesauce" instead of "applause". No getting away from the momma brain!
Glory to God though, for His wondrous love! If you are in Christ, then He delights in your obedience, however modest, precious child of God!
She also today did some long-awaited serious business in her potty, if you know what I mean.
I know that a two and a half year old going #2 in her potty and staying dry overnight don't sound like very lofty things, they do cause me to reflect on a spiritual parallel.
Stay with me.
Our God delights in the good obedience of His children. As we heard today in worship, His reward of our obedience is still a gift of grace. Our best works are yet stained with sin, and gain us no ground before a just and holy God. But if I, a fallen, imperfect momma, experience real joy when I see my daughter finally reach a simple, yet important, milestone...does our Lord, who loves us perfectly, somehow display the heavenly equivalent of clapping and jumping up and down in the blue bathroom when He helps me make a breakthrough in my sanctification?
I don't mean to sound flippant. What I mean is that I clapped and jumped out of sheer exuberance because I couldn't not celebrate with my daughter. The joy on her little face! So I have to think that God, our tender Father, perhaps when He sees me overcome a temptation that previously brought me low, experiences a genuine and overflowing joy to see my obedient response.
This is still within the bounds of grace, as my obedience only results from His Spirit at work in my life, and that after He drew me to Himself in Christ. Perhaps the analogy holds up, if the comparison is with my persistent teaching and discipline as I have encouraged Mikayla to obey me. So when she does obey, whether it is using the potty or finally staying in her bed, I could pat myself on the back for a parenting job well done. But I am usually far more focused on her role in obedience, that she has finally internalized and responded to our teaching.
So God of course realizes that we could not obey without His help, but perhaps His delight comes from seeing us take small, yet meaningful steps forward in our sanctification.
The Christian life takes a lot of work, but it is nice on a Lord's day to really reflect on the frank enjoyment that our Father takes in our progress. Obedience does not merit simply a checkmark on a holy list somewhere, but a tender smile and perhaps loving applause, while His heart dances as mine does over my daughter's accomplishments.
And lest you think I am all smart and meditative today, I accidentally typed "applesauce" instead of "applause". No getting away from the momma brain!
Glory to God though, for His wondrous love! If you are in Christ, then He delights in your obedience, however modest, precious child of God!
Lies Moms Believe
Perhaps you are familiar with the book "Lies Women Believe (and the Truth that sets them free!)" book, and similar "Lies Young Women Believe..." by Nancy Leigh DeMoss an Dannah Gresh. Our church's young women are using the latter for a Bible study currently. I'm always amazed at how insightful, mature, and Scripturally-rooted our young women are (compared with myself at that age, particularly) as we work through the insidious lies of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Many are lies that we would never overtly claim to believe, but we nonetheless act as if they are true. ("I am my own authority", anyone?)
All that as background for sharing this link:
Adjusting to a New Baby, Ad Addendum
I was reading along thinking yup, I knew that, got it, etc. etc. and generally feeling like I had nailed the whole "adjusting to new baby" thing with each of my kiddos. Food, fat clothes, taking it easy early on. No sweat. Maybe I'm just lazy and I like to eat so new motherhood really suits me.
Then I got to #6: Never underestimate the spiritual warfare that occurs when new life is born.
I could practically feel the words leap from the screen to punch me in the face.
Reading through the first paragraph felt like a firsthand glimpse of my thought life and heart attitudes in the first weeks of having a new baby home. Who am I kidding, these are thoughts I struggled with this very morning.
See what you think:
Poor body image? Negative thoughts about my spouse? Despair about the condition of my home and energy level? Wallowing in the loneliness of caring for two small children all by myself, knowing my husband has a work dinner and will be home later than usual today? Comparing myself with other moms who share idealized glimpses of their adorable, well-scrubbed children and brightly lit homes on Facebook?
Check, check, and check. However many checks that is. Got 'em all.
So apparently I am pathetic and on the losing side (at the moment) of some serious spiritual warfare. I wonder if Nancy and Dannah would mind much if I undertook a spinoff of their books for moms. I Googled it and found a few different blog offerings and a "Lies Homeschooling Moms Believe". Clearly, this is something that we struggle with.
I need some Truth in my life, and pronto. Flipping open my Bible, it falls open to Job. Ironic, perhaps, that the first passage I see is, "My spirit is broken; my days are extinct; the graveyard is ready for me." I'm not sure whether to identify with Job here, or consider this a reality check that my days full of laundry, crumbs, and urine-saturated chair cushions are more a sign of blessing than of suffering. My hunch is that God would have me go with the latter. Self-pity much?
I turn next to an old favorite, a passage that brought me comfort through my angsty teenage years. Today I am weary in different ways and have need of a different kind of strength. But my Supplier is unchanged.
"Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
His understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
but they who wait for the Lord will renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not be faint." [Isa. 40:31]
I'm scanning down the words at the far right of each line: faint, weary, exhausted. Ah, that would be me. But then I trace back just a bit further and see the word "not". Not faint, Not weary, Not exhausted. And even further back in each line and I'm astounded by the use of the emphatic, "they SHALL...". What a promise! They who wait for the Lord, seek His strength and find contentment in Him regardless of the season of life, they shall not only NOT be weary, but they shall run!
So, I feel encouraged and motivated. At least a little bit convicted that I have not been waiting on the Lord lately, or else I might not find myself feeling so depleted. Now, though, there is at least a refreshment of my spirit, such that I feel more likely to choose contentment and joy in my remaining duties today. If this excerpt from Isaiah 40 didn't do it for you, I encourage you to open the Scriptures and read the whole of Isaiah 40. Be reminded of the vastness and might and power of the God who is our strength.
And if you are a mom in need of particular tender mercy from the Lord today, as I find myself, please locate verse 11: "He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young."
We are His lambs, and He gently leads those that are with young.
Gentle Father, help me to show this same tenderness and gentleness to my children this day and always. I have such need of your help; without you, I can do nothing but hate my children, be annoyed and impatient and frustrated at their needs. Yet you do not treat me with annoyance, impatience, nor frustration, even on my most pitiable days. Pour our your grace and strength upon me; cause me to wait upon you and to find contentment in this calling as a mother. As you love me, move my heart and my hands and my tongue to love my children in imitation of your perfect example.
Thank you most of all for Jesus, who covers every mothering sin, both of omission and comission, with His precious, plenteous blood. Let me always point my children to His completed work for us. Amen.
The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever. Soli deo gloria!!
All that as background for sharing this link:
Adjusting to a New Baby, Ad Addendum
I was reading along thinking yup, I knew that, got it, etc. etc. and generally feeling like I had nailed the whole "adjusting to new baby" thing with each of my kiddos. Food, fat clothes, taking it easy early on. No sweat. Maybe I'm just lazy and I like to eat so new motherhood really suits me.
Then I got to #6: Never underestimate the spiritual warfare that occurs when new life is born.
I could practically feel the words leap from the screen to punch me in the face.
Reading through the first paragraph felt like a firsthand glimpse of my thought life and heart attitudes in the first weeks of having a new baby home. Who am I kidding, these are thoughts I struggled with this very morning.
See what you think:
When a new life is born, the devil begins to wreak havoc on your home especially the mother. He is the father of lies. He hates life and loves death so every time life is born, a part of you will pay in this war. Although, his lies come in forms that we usually don't recognize. "This is too much for one man." "Why are you wasting your life?" "Look at what you once were." "Your body is trashed." "This can't be right to be this tired and overwhelmed." "Our marriage is a mess." "I am not a good mother to the ones I have, why would I have more children." "I can't seem to get it right." "I am so lonely." "I am losing my mind." "I don't do well without sleep." "You are better than this." "They would be better off without you." "I am much better at helping others than my own children."I was once so organized and now I can barely get out of bed." "So and so is always with it, why can't I be like her?" "Everybody does well after a baby, except me."
Poor body image? Negative thoughts about my spouse? Despair about the condition of my home and energy level? Wallowing in the loneliness of caring for two small children all by myself, knowing my husband has a work dinner and will be home later than usual today? Comparing myself with other moms who share idealized glimpses of their adorable, well-scrubbed children and brightly lit homes on Facebook?
Check, check, and check. However many checks that is. Got 'em all.
So apparently I am pathetic and on the losing side (at the moment) of some serious spiritual warfare. I wonder if Nancy and Dannah would mind much if I undertook a spinoff of their books for moms. I Googled it and found a few different blog offerings and a "Lies Homeschooling Moms Believe". Clearly, this is something that we struggle with.
I need some Truth in my life, and pronto. Flipping open my Bible, it falls open to Job. Ironic, perhaps, that the first passage I see is, "My spirit is broken; my days are extinct; the graveyard is ready for me." I'm not sure whether to identify with Job here, or consider this a reality check that my days full of laundry, crumbs, and urine-saturated chair cushions are more a sign of blessing than of suffering. My hunch is that God would have me go with the latter. Self-pity much?
I turn next to an old favorite, a passage that brought me comfort through my angsty teenage years. Today I am weary in different ways and have need of a different kind of strength. But my Supplier is unchanged.
"Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
His understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
but they who wait for the Lord will renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not be faint." [Isa. 40:31]
I'm scanning down the words at the far right of each line: faint, weary, exhausted. Ah, that would be me. But then I trace back just a bit further and see the word "not". Not faint, Not weary, Not exhausted. And even further back in each line and I'm astounded by the use of the emphatic, "they SHALL...". What a promise! They who wait for the Lord, seek His strength and find contentment in Him regardless of the season of life, they shall not only NOT be weary, but they shall run!
So, I feel encouraged and motivated. At least a little bit convicted that I have not been waiting on the Lord lately, or else I might not find myself feeling so depleted. Now, though, there is at least a refreshment of my spirit, such that I feel more likely to choose contentment and joy in my remaining duties today. If this excerpt from Isaiah 40 didn't do it for you, I encourage you to open the Scriptures and read the whole of Isaiah 40. Be reminded of the vastness and might and power of the God who is our strength.
And if you are a mom in need of particular tender mercy from the Lord today, as I find myself, please locate verse 11: "He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young."
We are His lambs, and He gently leads those that are with young.
Gentle Father, help me to show this same tenderness and gentleness to my children this day and always. I have such need of your help; without you, I can do nothing but hate my children, be annoyed and impatient and frustrated at their needs. Yet you do not treat me with annoyance, impatience, nor frustration, even on my most pitiable days. Pour our your grace and strength upon me; cause me to wait upon you and to find contentment in this calling as a mother. As you love me, move my heart and my hands and my tongue to love my children in imitation of your perfect example.
Thank you most of all for Jesus, who covers every mothering sin, both of omission and comission, with His precious, plenteous blood. Let me always point my children to His completed work for us. Amen.
The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever. Soli deo gloria!!
Confessions of a Part-time Mr. Mom
I (Joel) have the privilege of being home alone with Mikayla for four afternoons/evenings each week. It is incredible. Here are some thoughts that have been tumbling around my head during our times together.
-When giving your baby a bottle, make sure the top cap is on tightly, and that the cap isn't mis-threaded. You'll learn the hard way. Not that I know anything about it.
-I'm slightly nervous for when Mikayla enters the stage when we have to step up the discipline and instruction. We do basic "no" and other training now, but I know it will only get harder. As if it wasn't hard enough, I'm finding that it's next to impossible to say "no" or withhold from her. If it's this hard now, how am I supposed to say no even once in the next 18 years?
-What child doesn't like grapes or cheese? Mikayla devours avacados, plain yogurt (ew), and other seemingly strange foods, but refuses to touch these kid staples. Skins on, skins off; colby jack, mozzarella, or cheddar: it doesn't matter. I really hope she didn't inherit my picky childhood eating habits (I'm really sorry, Mom, I'm sure your stroganoff was delicious). At least Mikayla seems to like one type of Cheese.
-I now have even greater respect and admiration for stay at home moms. Their job is tough! And I'm only doing it four half-days a week, with one delightful little girl. Whenever Elizabeth gets to stay home full time, she has her work cut out for her. She isn't leaving a job to sit at home and eat bon-bons, she's leaving a tough job for a tougher calling. And with worse hours.
-Mikayla just might grow up to believe in ghosts. Her dinner time coincides with the neighbors' dinner preparation, and she loves hearing the cupboard doors slamming shut through the partition.She always looks around so expectantly, hoping to see the source of the sounds, but they remain disembodied.
-Before Mikayla came along, crying or babbling kids never bothered me one bit in church. But now that Mikayla is at the screeching/babbling stage, I am paranoid that even a tiny peep from her is as disruptive as a streaker at a baseball game. I have to keep reminding myself that Out of the mouths of infants...
-A child's laugh is the greatest, most beautiful sound in world. It can render the darkest of days and the foulest of moods inconsequential and utterly self-centered.
-People frequently talk about how having children gives you a new perspective on a lot of things, not the least of which is our adoption as sons and daughters of God. It's true. Related to my second observation above, this has affected our prayer: "If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" (Matt. 7:11)
-When giving your baby a bottle, make sure the top cap is on tightly, and that the cap isn't mis-threaded. You'll learn the hard way. Not that I know anything about it.
-I'm slightly nervous for when Mikayla enters the stage when we have to step up the discipline and instruction. We do basic "no" and other training now, but I know it will only get harder. As if it wasn't hard enough, I'm finding that it's next to impossible to say "no" or withhold from her. If it's this hard now, how am I supposed to say no even once in the next 18 years?
-What child doesn't like grapes or cheese? Mikayla devours avacados, plain yogurt (ew), and other seemingly strange foods, but refuses to touch these kid staples. Skins on, skins off; colby jack, mozzarella, or cheddar: it doesn't matter. I really hope she didn't inherit my picky childhood eating habits (I'm really sorry, Mom, I'm sure your stroganoff was delicious). At least Mikayla seems to like one type of Cheese.
-I now have even greater respect and admiration for stay at home moms. Their job is tough! And I'm only doing it four half-days a week, with one delightful little girl. Whenever Elizabeth gets to stay home full time, she has her work cut out for her. She isn't leaving a job to sit at home and eat bon-bons, she's leaving a tough job for a tougher calling. And with worse hours.
-Mikayla just might grow up to believe in ghosts. Her dinner time coincides with the neighbors' dinner preparation, and she loves hearing the cupboard doors slamming shut through the partition.She always looks around so expectantly, hoping to see the source of the sounds, but they remain disembodied.
-Before Mikayla came along, crying or babbling kids never bothered me one bit in church. But now that Mikayla is at the screeching/babbling stage, I am paranoid that even a tiny peep from her is as disruptive as a streaker at a baseball game. I have to keep reminding myself that Out of the mouths of infants...
-A child's laugh is the greatest, most beautiful sound in world. It can render the darkest of days and the foulest of moods inconsequential and utterly self-centered.
-People frequently talk about how having children gives you a new perspective on a lot of things, not the least of which is our adoption as sons and daughters of God. It's true. Related to my second observation above, this has affected our prayer: "If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" (Matt. 7:11)
Don't Wiggle in My Arms
Sometimes when I'm holding my baby girl, she squirms and wiggles in my arms. Sometimes she grunts as though trying to escape, and sometimes she even lets out a wail, maybe not even realizing that she is in her mother's arms. This morning, during one such instance, I found myself having these thoughts...
I want her to know that in my arms, she is completely safe. That here, nothing can harm her because I am her strong shield. Nothing can reach her without my permission. I am her protector and her provider. I watch her every motion and listen for her every cry; even when I sleep, I hear her sounds and know her movements. I want her to learn that even when I do things that cause her discomfort, like a bath or a diaper change, they are only ever for her benefit. I want my precious Mikayla to know that she can trust me and have no fears. She can trust me in every way for all her needs. If I'm not sure what she needs, I will figure it out. If she needs something I don't have, I will get it. I want her to know how much I love her, and always will. That I will never, as much as is within my power, allow her to be hurt - never truly hurt, and never without my arms waiting to bring comfort, never without my hands waiting to dry her tears. I will never leave her, and she will never know a day when she is not welcome with me. She is my beloved daughter, of my own blood and from my own body, and my love for her is fierce.
She's only a baby and has no knowledge of these things. She has no understanding yet of who I am, that my life's purpose now is to be her mother or even what that means. I wish that I could provide this understanding to her, especially in moments when she is clearly terrified. How it breaks my heart to have no way of communicating that she has nothing to fear and, in fact, is in the safest possible place.
Then my thoughts turn upward...
Lord, how often do I wiggle in your arms, not trusting that I am in the safest possible place? How often do I cry with my eyes closed, forgetting who holds me? How often do I fear what is ahead, disregarding your promises of faithful protection and provision? How often do I forget that I am your precious daughter, made yours through your body and blood? How many times do you remind me in Scripture to be still, and know that you are God?
Father, each time I rock my baby, remind me of the words of Psalm 139 and that, as I am a mother to my child, you are my heavenly Father. How much greater is your steadfastness and trustworthiness than my own! As great are my promises to my daughter, my ability to fulfill them pales next to your inexhaustible faithfulness. Oh God, be her rock as you have been mine. Help me to mother her, and continue to teach me these marvelous lessons about your love.
Psalm 139:1-18
1 O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
3 You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
SDG
I want her to know that in my arms, she is completely safe. That here, nothing can harm her because I am her strong shield. Nothing can reach her without my permission. I am her protector and her provider. I watch her every motion and listen for her every cry; even when I sleep, I hear her sounds and know her movements. I want her to learn that even when I do things that cause her discomfort, like a bath or a diaper change, they are only ever for her benefit. I want my precious Mikayla to know that she can trust me and have no fears. She can trust me in every way for all her needs. If I'm not sure what she needs, I will figure it out. If she needs something I don't have, I will get it. I want her to know how much I love her, and always will. That I will never, as much as is within my power, allow her to be hurt - never truly hurt, and never without my arms waiting to bring comfort, never without my hands waiting to dry her tears. I will never leave her, and she will never know a day when she is not welcome with me. She is my beloved daughter, of my own blood and from my own body, and my love for her is fierce.
She's only a baby and has no knowledge of these things. She has no understanding yet of who I am, that my life's purpose now is to be her mother or even what that means. I wish that I could provide this understanding to her, especially in moments when she is clearly terrified. How it breaks my heart to have no way of communicating that she has nothing to fear and, in fact, is in the safest possible place.
Then my thoughts turn upward...
Lord, how often do I wiggle in your arms, not trusting that I am in the safest possible place? How often do I cry with my eyes closed, forgetting who holds me? How often do I fear what is ahead, disregarding your promises of faithful protection and provision? How often do I forget that I am your precious daughter, made yours through your body and blood? How many times do you remind me in Scripture to be still, and know that you are God?
Father, each time I rock my baby, remind me of the words of Psalm 139 and that, as I am a mother to my child, you are my heavenly Father. How much greater is your steadfastness and trustworthiness than my own! As great are my promises to my daughter, my ability to fulfill them pales next to your inexhaustible faithfulness. Oh God, be her rock as you have been mine. Help me to mother her, and continue to teach me these marvelous lessons about your love.
Psalm 139:1-18
1 O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
3 You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
7 Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
9 If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
13 For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
I awake, and I am still with you.
SDG
Mourning and Dancing
Over the Thanksgiving season, we were reflecting on God's unfathomable goodness to us in the past year, and some of the words of Psalm 30 repeatedly kept coming to mind. Truly, by His grace and mercy alone, God has turned our sorrow into laughter and our mourning into dancing. This is ultimately true in light of the gospel, as God has brought us out of our sin and misery and given us the joy of forgiveness and redemption in His Son. But a small microcosm of this was evident this year in the Lord making us mourn for one of our little ones last spring, and graciously giving us laughter and dancing with our second little one to be born in January, that we may "sing His praise and not be silent."
"I will extol you, O LORD, for you have drawn me up
and have not let my foes rejoice over me.
O LORD my God, I cried to you for help,
and you have healed me.
O LORD, you have brought up my soul from Sheol;
you restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit.
Sing praises to the LORD, O you his saints,
and give thanks to his holy name.
For his anger is but for a moment,
and his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may tarry for the night,
but joy comes with the morning.
As for me, I said in my prosperity,
'I shall never be moved.'
By your favor, O LORD,
you made my mountain stand strong;
you hid your face;
I was dismayed.
To you, O LORD, I cry,
and to the Lord I plead for mercy:
'What profit is there in my death,
if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it tell of your faithfulness?
Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me!
O LORD, be my helper!'
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
you have loosed my sackcloth
and clothed me with gladness,
that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!
-Psalm 30:1-12
"I will extol you, O LORD, for you have drawn me up
and have not let my foes rejoice over me.
O LORD my God, I cried to you for help,
and you have healed me.
O LORD, you have brought up my soul from Sheol;
you restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit.
Sing praises to the LORD, O you his saints,
and give thanks to his holy name.
For his anger is but for a moment,
and his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may tarry for the night,
but joy comes with the morning.
As for me, I said in my prosperity,
'I shall never be moved.'
By your favor, O LORD,
you made my mountain stand strong;
you hid your face;
I was dismayed.
To you, O LORD, I cry,
and to the Lord I plead for mercy:
'What profit is there in my death,
if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it tell of your faithfulness?
Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me!
O LORD, be my helper!'
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
you have loosed my sackcloth
and clothed me with gladness,
that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!
-Psalm 30:1-12
A Big Gulp and a Prayer
And I don't mean the kind from 7-11.
For the past month or so, I have been waiting to hear about a potential postdoctoral residency near Lancaster. This is one that I was blessed to be connected with through dear friends at church (thank you, Migdalia, if you're listening!). The interview process went fabulously, and the practice is a small one comprised of Christian clinicians - to me, there could not be a more desirable place to serve as a resident and, hopefully, as a psychologist once I'm licensed.
Enter: Baby Pearce
How does one navigate the interview and potential hiring process while pregnant? I have wrestled with the question of when to let the practice know about my pregnancy, and heard myriad opinions on all sides: don't tell them til after you get an offer, because it could bias their opinion and damage your chances of getting the position! Tell them as soon as possible, it would be unfair to withhold such an important factor from the discussion, etc. What to do?
After much prayer and reflection, it seems inevitable to me that I must act with integrity and trust the Lord in this, as in all things. Thankfully they are Christian folks, and I acknowledged some of these things when I gave them the news.
So....now they know. Or will as soon as they check their email. Please join me in praying that the Lord will help us to trust Him with this opportunity, and that if it is His will, I'll be offered the residency sometime next week. It is easy to view my pregnancy right now with just the slightest tinge of discontent, thinking that this isn't the most ideal timing. This, coming from a woman who has poured out prayers and tears before the Lord, longing for a child! How like Israel I prove myself to be, time and again!
Lord, teach me contentment and trust in this season of pregnancy, even as I reach new depths of sinful self-centeredness.
As Joel reminded me, whether I get this job or not, I have a little baby inside me. This reminder silenced me in gratitude. Brothers and sisters, I would not trade this sweet blessing for any job or for all the money in the world! This is truly a wonderful gift from the Lord, and He WILL continue to provide all our needs, just as He has during our first four poor years of marriage. We have all that we could want in Him, in the blessings of salvation, our marriage, our church, and our expanding family. All else is dust in the wind, after all.
For the past month or so, I have been waiting to hear about a potential postdoctoral residency near Lancaster. This is one that I was blessed to be connected with through dear friends at church (thank you, Migdalia, if you're listening!). The interview process went fabulously, and the practice is a small one comprised of Christian clinicians - to me, there could not be a more desirable place to serve as a resident and, hopefully, as a psychologist once I'm licensed.
Enter: Baby Pearce
How does one navigate the interview and potential hiring process while pregnant? I have wrestled with the question of when to let the practice know about my pregnancy, and heard myriad opinions on all sides: don't tell them til after you get an offer, because it could bias their opinion and damage your chances of getting the position! Tell them as soon as possible, it would be unfair to withhold such an important factor from the discussion, etc. What to do?
After much prayer and reflection, it seems inevitable to me that I must act with integrity and trust the Lord in this, as in all things. Thankfully they are Christian folks, and I acknowledged some of these things when I gave them the news.
So....now they know. Or will as soon as they check their email. Please join me in praying that the Lord will help us to trust Him with this opportunity, and that if it is His will, I'll be offered the residency sometime next week. It is easy to view my pregnancy right now with just the slightest tinge of discontent, thinking that this isn't the most ideal timing. This, coming from a woman who has poured out prayers and tears before the Lord, longing for a child! How like Israel I prove myself to be, time and again!
Lord, teach me contentment and trust in this season of pregnancy, even as I reach new depths of sinful self-centeredness.
As Joel reminded me, whether I get this job or not, I have a little baby inside me. This reminder silenced me in gratitude. Brothers and sisters, I would not trade this sweet blessing for any job or for all the money in the world! This is truly a wonderful gift from the Lord, and He WILL continue to provide all our needs, just as He has during our first four poor years of marriage. We have all that we could want in Him, in the blessings of salvation, our marriage, our church, and our expanding family. All else is dust in the wind, after all.
Lessons From the Womb
Tiny one, I marvel that your fragile life is so dependent upon my own. Everything that I eat and drink is nourishment for you. Each beat of my heart is your lifeblood. You squirm and move in your warm, secure little home, completely unaware that your life is sustained by someone much larger than yourself. Right now you are completely passive and reliant. You have no choice in anything, yet because you are loved, you are entirely safe. In fact, everything that I do for the next eight months will be for your benefit.
What a beautiful picture of the relationship between mother and child. I can't help but reflect on the parallels between this and the relationship between our Heavenly Father and His child. How completely and utterly dependent my life is upon Him. I move about in this life, but ultimately I am totally hemmed in by His love, held in the palm of His hand [Psalm 139]. Just as you rely on the beating of my heart and nourishment from my body, so every word that proceeds from His mouth is the bread of my life, and His Spirit is the breath that fills my lungs. In Him, I live and move and have my being [Acts 17:28]. Apart from Him, I can do nothing [John 15:5]. And although God has ordained whatsoever shall come to pass, although He alone is sovereign over my life and my future, I know that I am safe in Him. He alone is worthy of my trust. He has set my foot upon a rock, making my steps secure [Psalm 40:2].
One day, I will teach you about our Heavenly Father. But today, tiny one, you are teaching me.
What a beautiful picture of the relationship between mother and child. I can't help but reflect on the parallels between this and the relationship between our Heavenly Father and His child. How completely and utterly dependent my life is upon Him. I move about in this life, but ultimately I am totally hemmed in by His love, held in the palm of His hand [Psalm 139]. Just as you rely on the beating of my heart and nourishment from my body, so every word that proceeds from His mouth is the bread of my life, and His Spirit is the breath that fills my lungs. In Him, I live and move and have my being [Acts 17:28]. Apart from Him, I can do nothing [John 15:5]. And although God has ordained whatsoever shall come to pass, although He alone is sovereign over my life and my future, I know that I am safe in Him. He alone is worthy of my trust. He has set my foot upon a rock, making my steps secure [Psalm 40:2].
One day, I will teach you about our Heavenly Father. But today, tiny one, you are teaching me.
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