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Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Instead of maintaining four vehicles, we will dwindle to two, allowing me to pull into the garage without weaving through our private summer obstacle course called, “The driveway.” Our grocery bill will plummet like the first drop of a roller coaster. The telephone will ring less. Toilet paper will no longer be on the endangered species list. Best of all, my little dog, a walking aggregation of nerves, will no longer be launched into outer space when our kids’ friends ring the doorbell. (Her rockets fire before “ding” becomes “dong.”) The reason for these changes? Two of our three kids are leaving for college--my son, Jordan, for the first time. Cue the violins, because no matter how much I’ll appreciate the pleasant changes, when I see their empty chairs at dinner and empty beds each night, I will struggle with just that—emptiness. I know that life is transitional and that the ultimate goal of rearing kids is to guide them to complete independence. Still, I long for permanence I can count on no matter how many years pass, no matter how my circumstances, my job, my interests or my role as mom changes. I need an anchor. Happily, just such a mainstay of peace has been mine over the years, even when my footing was unsure, or my heart raced with fear, or ached with sadness--as when we left our daughter at college that first time. My anchor has been the constant friendship of Jesus. In all of my ups and downs, relationship struggles, personal failures and insecurities, I have not been alone. When my head hit my pillow at night, I knew I was under his watchful eye. When I awoke to face another problematic day (Is there any other kind?) I trusted that he knew the paths I would take and would even order my steps if I submitted to him. When I walked through fiery trials, he didn’t extinguish the flames, but he held my hand through them. As a result, the purifying heat helped refine me, but more importantly, helped me know him more intimately. As I prepared for Jordan’s graduation a few weeks ago, I found a stick figure crayon drawing he made for us when he was six. On the page I had written, “Jordan wants us to keep this, even when he goes to college.” And now that time is here. I did indeed keep it, treasuring the thought that as much as kids want to grow up and away, they also need an enduring love they can depend on; they need an anchor. My greatest hope is that as my children grow more independent of us, they will grow more dependent on the one who loves them unconditionally and unflinchingly, through all of their personal trials. Despite the best of intentions and efforts, no parent, spouse, or child of their own will ever be able to completely or perfectly fulfill their needs. Only the one who the writer of Hebrews acknowledges as “the same yesterday, today, and forever” is capable of such pure and abiding love. As a result of his faithfulness, I am able to release my grip on my son and daughter, and the only clinging I’ll do will be to Jesus, my steadfast anchor and friend.  Please come visit my personal blog at 2nd Cup of Coffee. Labels: anchor, changes, Children, Faith, Linda's Articles, trust Leave a comment... 11 Comments Links to this post People and their automobiles entertain me.  I came across this one while on vacation in Yellowstone National Park. Cars are telling about a person.More delightful than a car, however, is watching people inside the car. I am a people watcher. I bet you are too. I can’t help myself. Most of us who love Jesus are genuinely interested in what makes people tick. I find it hilarious some people, sitting alone in their car, forget other drivers can see them. Thus, on any regular day you will see two or three nose pickings. You would never find a nose digger in the Supermarket (I hope). Close proximity discourages this kind of thing. But, the strangest things play out in automobiles. Here are a few crazy things people do while driving: Reading the newspaper. Yup, it happened. A man drove with his knees while holding the paper open. *Shudder* Then there are multiple accounts of women applying makeup while talking on the cell phone. How about changing clothes? I might have tried this once but I wasn’t driving. Shhhh People eat in their cars, they shave, they kiss and hold hands. They argue with a passenger. Some throw stuff out the windows. Some even dare to check their email. One of my all time personal favorites is a woman with her foot stuck out the drive’s side window. She painted her toenails while stopped in traffic. I am sure you could add a few scary tales to this list. I tend to pray A LOT while driving. I no longer drive for extended periods since leaving the work force. In fact, some days the only driving I do is to and from school to drop off and collect my daughter. This five-minute trip to school, however, has become a profound opportunity and one of my favorite driving experiences. A few years ago, God, inspired me to begin praying aloud for my daughter while we drove to school. I pray for her protection. I pray for her friends. I pray over her tests on test day. I pray that God would reveal Himself in some small way to her during the day. I pray she would remember to pray when she is stressed, afraid, or uncertain. This short prayer right before her day begins makes a giant difference in her day. If we forget to pray, her attitude is different. Troubles brew during the day. Praying God’s protection and love over her has been a profound privilege. Praying invites the King of the Universe to rein sovereign over her day. I am also teaching her how and what to pray. Ultimately, these few minutes in the car help to grow her faith. Our prayers for our little ones and grown-up ones, spoken from our heart, in the kitchen, the backyard or even the car are powerful in the ears of our Father.
 Okay, if you have never turned your automobile into a prayer mobile start today. Grab a child or two or more, jump in the car, buckle up, head to the nearest ice cream store for a cold treat. While on the way, don't forget to pray! Please stop in for Marriage Monday at my place today: Spiritually Unequal Marriage. Labels: Children, Lynn's Articles, Parenting, Prayer Leave a comment... 6 Comments Links to this post "Mama, is that God's hot breath, do you think, blowing in our faces?" I blew a wisp of hair out of my eyes and wiped away some drops of sweat with the back of my hand. Smiling at Micah, I thought for a moment. It was seven-thirty in the evening, and my chance to have some quiet time had been foiled when Micah overheard me talking to my husband about taking a bike ride. The baby was asleep, and the evening was cooling down (a bit), so the quiet country roads were calling to me. "Oh, Mama, can I go with you? Please?" At my quick, "No, Micah," his face fell, and his neck hung low. I glanced at my husband over the top of Micah's cowlick, and he smiled and tipped his head, giving me a look that said, "Why not?" And so, there we were; our helmets strapped snugly, exposed skin covered in bug spray, with a half hour to roam the countryside together. The kildeer shot from their hiding places in the gravel at the sides of the roads and called frantically, flying ahead to distract us from their nests. A deer bounded across the field to our right, and we skidded to a stop to watch it disappear over the hill. In the midst of all this beauty the smell of cows, warm grass, and fresh growing mint were carried past our noses by a stifling wind. The breath of God? It was relentless, carrying the bodies of tiny gnats into our faces, catching in our teeth. It was stifling, letting up only when we turned our faces to catch a cool breath. It was unbearable at times, when the heat of the ground and manure joined the wind and assaulted us, burning our throats and eyes. I told Micah this story, how Elijah stood in the presence of God. How the Lord sent signs through nature, but He did not inhabit it. How at that precise moment, simply a still, small voice denoted His presence. "So maybe, Micah, God sent this hot wind. Perhaps He is not in it - but can you hear His voice?" "Well," he pedaled slower to stay by my side. "Not really. I think it would be easier to hear Him in the shade!" We laughed together and increased our speed to reach the grove of trees ahead of us. And sure enough, a cooler breeze awaited. We listened for a moment, one foot on the ground, resting our forearms on the handlebars. "Yup," Micah affirmed. "I can hear Him now. But you know, I think He was in the hot wind, too. I don't think it's so bad if He's there, too, do you?" I thought of all the moments in the past few days that had seemed unbearable, how my space was stifling me with all the responsibilities of being a mama, and how relentless God seemed as He sent trials my way to strengthen my quick prayers for patience and energy. But it didn't seem so bad when I remembered that He inhabits my days, and my heart. As we traveled the road home which, by the way, happened to blow with a wind more blistering than soothing, we thanked God for both. It is only the scorching wind that causes us to turn for cool refreshment. And there He is again.  You are always welcome at my little place - A Path Made Straight Labels: Children, Elise's Articles, Encouragement Leave a comment... 10 Comments Links to this post This is a letter my husband shared with our congregation a few months ago that he had written to a dear man and his wife who had influenced his life and lead him into a personal relationship with Jesus Christ at a very young age. Never underestimate the influence you can have on the life of a young child. The love that this man and his wife gave to a young boy not only impacted his life for Christ, but has now gone on to impact everyone who he shares the gospel with weekly as a Pastor. Then children were brought to him that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples rebuked the people, but Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven." And he laid his hands on them and went away. Matthew 19:13-15 (ESV) Dear Papa Kiemel, You probably don’t remember me. I was 4 or 5 when we met. You were the Pastor of the Nazarene Church in Hayward, California. My family had recently moved to this community and began attending your church. I remember one sunny Sunday afternoon when you invited our family to come to your home for lunch. You had a globe and so many interesting items and pieces of artwork from all over the world. They were from places where you and or your daughters had shared the Gospel. As a very young boy, I had no idea what that really meant at the time. I did know that it must be something special and important. I have another memory of you and Mama Kiemel. I remember that you did not have a TV that worked well, toys or other kids to play with. I realize now that it was because you both were older at the time and that you had no grandchildren yet. Well toys or no toys, playtime buddies or not, TV or no TV, I always longed to come to your home. I longed to come to your home because it was one of the few places I could go, outside of being with my own family where I felt so loved and where I did not stand out as the white kid in a brown family. You see Papa and Mama Kiemel, I was adopted as a baby, yet you never treated me as the scarlet-letter child. The genuine love you gave to a scared and confused little boy opened the door for me to trust in the love of my Heavenly Father that my Dad and Mom so wanted me to personally know and love. I asked Jesus into my heart shortly after we moved from Hayward at a VBS my Mom and her friend put together because I wanted what you had and what you gave me. As a pastor, I am sure you wondered at times if the two of you made a difference in the lives of the people you shared your life with. How many of your prayers for other people actually stuck and resulted in fruit for the Kingdom. Well, I just wanted you to know it made a difference in my life. For 35 years I have anchored my heart on the same Jesus that shined and radiated out of both of you. I regret that I did not get a chance to say thank you to you in person before you both went on to be with Jesus. Please accept this belated gratitude from the kid you allowed to call you Papa and Mama. In Him...Chris Visit Chris at her personal blog Come to the Table Labels: Children, Chris's Articles Leave a comment... 8 Comments Links to this post When Jesus said, "Suffer the little children to come to me," did he mean twins? I'm watching my sister's two-year-old twins for her this week while she and my brother-in-law are in town looking for a place to live. That's right - they're moving to Texas from Seattle! (hooray!) Actually, they're looking about 3 hours south of my house, so I won't see them all week. Why anyone would want to move her from Seattle is beyond me, but so is keeping twins for a week. So, if you feel inclined to pray for me, that would be awesome. I will say this: I'm doing remarkably well so far. By that, I mean it's been 48 hours now and they're still breathing. I can't really take credit for this amazing feat; my own children have been a great help! They played with the babies most of the day Sunday and when they got home from school yesterday. They came up with all sorts of clever amusements to keep the little tykes entertained, like computer games, DVD's and my guitars. After all, they're just guitars. They can always be repaired. Uh...or replaced. Very soon. So here I am on day three of seven and I miss my best helpers. My kids have school every day this week. That means I'm pretty much on my own until the school bus gets here in the afternoon. Every day this week. All day. With twins. Two year-olds. By myself. Prayer, please. As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. Psalm 10:13-14 I'm so thankful God never feels overwhelmed by me. I can certainly be twice the handful compared to most folks I know. And He doesn't even need help to manage my tantrums, my messes, my quirks and demands. Even in the midst of my most troublesome moments, He has compassion and patience with me. He teaches me and loves me, comforts and protects me. I am, after all, His child. My only question: how does He get a shower?  Carol's blog can be found here. Labels: Carol's Articles, Children, Endurance, Parenting Leave a comment... 4 Comments Links to this post
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