Kids kids

It was about 1994. My two children, barely aged 5 and 2, were running around the church sanctuary as the worship team was practicing the songs. I let them run because nobody else was there yet for the service, but as people started to file in, I began to tighten the reins.

"People are coming in," I told them. "Time to stop running and play quietly."

They listened - for as long as small children's attention span lasts. Especially when one of them has undiagnosed ADHD. 

So they started making noises and playing under the seat. Their giggles mingled with thumps their feet made on the underside of the pew as they lay on the floor. Occasionally one of them would run around and I would have to go and catch the offending one (usually the youngest) and cart them back. 

I was getting more and more frustrated as more and more adults turned toward me and glared.

Free Image courtesy of chriswolf at Pixabay.com

One of the greeters at the entryway was a large, jovial man named Blair.  He watched the kids and saw my frustration. As I was carting my toddler back for the fourth time (it felt like the tenth), Blair touched my arm. I stopped, still holding the child under my arm like a football. By this time, the oldest was coming closer to investigate.

Blair smiled at me. "I'm going to tell you something that my kids' Ukranian grandmother said to me when our children were their age," he announced, jerking his head toward my children. He looked me straight in the eye and said slowly, "Kids kids."

I stared back at him quizzically, confused by his statement. "Kids kids?" I queried. 

He chuckled. "She didn't speak English all that well. What she meant was that children are going to be children no matter where they are. And they are children for such a short time. So let them be children." 

He grinned as I slowly grasped his meaning. He was encouraging me as a mother - saying that it wasn't so horrible of me to let my kids play - because after all, they were children! To let them be children was the best gift I could give them.

That statement helped form my (and our) parenting decisions from that time onward. If they wanted to play at church, I'd take them into the foyer (or outside if I could) and let them play themselves out, rather than subject a teacher to them fidgeting and their excess of energy. 

If they wanted to go into Cubs instead of Brownies, into Cubs they went - and excelled! The oldest wanted to go into Scouts - so we supported her when the time came. And when she decided on her own that it wasn't for her, we supported that too. 

We encouraged each of them to plunge into whatever they wanted and we didn't force them into activities they had no interest in. As a result, they decided to take swimming classes together - something their mom had never had the courage to do! The oldest was in her junior high school band for a little over three years, learned to play the flute, and dropped out of senior high school band when she got a "creepy teacher" (who eventually was discovered to be too "friendly" toward some of his girl pupils...) and the youngest discovered she had a gift (among the other gifts she had) for using her hands. She developed an interest in carpentry and welding before she passed away in 2013 in a car crash. 

Each person has unique gifts and fills a special place in the world that only they can fill. And it all came into focus for me that day when a man named Blair took the time to encourage a young, harried mother. 

He also had another saying, which he said quite often: "It's nice to be nice."  And he lived by it.  Thank you, Blair. Thank you.

 

Here - Through it all

Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You;
Through it all, through it all it is well.
Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You,
And it is well ... with me.  (c) Kristene DiMarco, Bethel Music

I just finished reading an amazing article. It's about photographs taken from INSIDE THE EYE of Hurricane Dorian while it was still a Category 2 Hurricane off the coast of the United States. 

It's full of birds. All kinds of birds!  Flying, sitting in the still water if they are able to swim, resting on anything that floats if they can't swim, they stay in the eye of the storm until it makes landfall, where they stay. If ships are in the eye of the storm, they rest on the ship.  

Amazing.  

This is a photo of Tropical Cyclone Catarina,
clearly showing the eye of the storm, courtesy of
a contributor to Pixabay.com

The analogy is plain between this image and the storms of life, so I won't belabour it here. But the mental picture of the eye of the storm being calm and a refuge for those caught in it ... is a powerful one. I can think of several incidents, not only in my life but in those of others, where this is the reality: we have stayed in the midst of turbulent circumstances and yet there has been an inner calm, a 'peace that surpasses all understanding' (Phil 4:7), that has steadied us and been a refuge for us. It's not that we are unaffected by the storm at all, it's just that our  focus has been on the One who is the Centre of all things. 

I've experienced a real hurricane before. Hurricane Juan (Sept. 29, 2003) visited our province and caused all kinds of damage to property, shoreline, and power lines.  We had not been listening to or watching the news for the previous few days, and I had been on vacation so away from the office grapevine, so we were totally unprepared. During the fury of the storm that morning, my husband and I felt we had to go outside because water was pouring over the edges of our rain gutters. 

We were soaked to the skin within two seconds, and we got the ladder out anyway. I held the extension ladder while hubby went up and cleared out the debris from the gutters, a job that we have since learned must be done in mid-summer. The rain and wind were blinding; the wind itself ripped our breath away from us, and we had to keep our chins tucked down to our chests to be able to breathe. And we were only out there for about five minutes. We lost three of our eleven shade trees in that storm. 

In hindsight, it was kind of crazy of us to venture outside. But we did experience the strength of a Category 1 hurricane - as least as much as we ever want to (if we wanted to, which I doubt). I'll never forget it. 

Yet, through it all, we were protected. We discovered a large, one-foot-in-diameter tree limb suspended in the maple tree that was right next to our house. It had been ripped off one of our other trees and became a projectile that was hurtling right at our picture window. And the maple tree's limbs caught it and didn't allow it to travel further. A mini-tornado (common in hurricanes, I've been told) landed on one of our other large shade trees (60 feet tall) and twisted it at the trunk as if it was a matchstick, slamming it onto the lawn. That tree was about 25 feet from our front door. When it hit the ground, it hit at an angle about 60 degrees to the house, so it missed us completely, still tethered by a portion of its own trunk to the ground. 

As I ponder this event, I am overwhelmed by a sense of divine protection - even in our ignorance - during Juan's devastating visit. And as Hurricane Dorian nears our province later today, I am trusting in God's protection for us and our home and property. 

And for the storms of our lives and circumstances, I am trusting that same kind of protection in the emotional and spiritual sense. I know we are in the Centre. 

So it's all good. Through it all, it is well ... with me. With us. 
He is here in the midst.

All Things New

"Behold, I make all things new." (Revelation 21:5)
"If anyone is in Christ, (they are) a new creation. The old is gone; the new has come!" (2 Cor. 5:17)

I am my own worst enemy, it seems. The good that people see in me, I don't usually see in myself. Sometimes I get a glimpse, but most of the time I see the glaring faults and weaknesses that seem to thwart me at every turn. But lately, I have been meditating on what God says about me as a regenerated, born-again believer. And what I have been learning is slowly changing how I see myself. And it is increasing my love for and trust in the One who made it possible.

Paul wrote, "I know that in me, that is in my flesh, dwells no good thing." (Romans 7)... but what he goes on to say is that "it is no longer I that does it; it is sin within me."  Basically he says, "Hey. I know it seems hopeless sometimes to do what's right. I do the wrong thing far too much. BUT THAT ISN'T ME." He explains that in his inner man (the regenerated one) he longs to do God's will. That is his real heart. That's what he longs for. That's who he is. 

Image by David Castillo Dominici
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

In reality, God has taken out his heart of stone and given him a new heart, as He promised way back in Ezekiel 36. And if we belong to Jesus, He has done the same for you and for me. Our hearts are no longer "desperately wicked" (as many churches teach to their members) for according to the Word of God, He has created us anew. In other words, He has given us new hearts; He - through the last Adam - has made our hearts good. Our hearts ... my heart ... is good. What a mind-blowing concept!

There is a chorus of a recently written song that goes, "You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing; You say I am strong when I think I am weak. You say I am held when I am falling short; When I don't belong, oh You say I am Yours. And I believe; I believe what You say of me. I believe." (Lauren Daigle, 2018)

If I truly believed what He says of me, who I am in Him, how differently would I live my life! How confident, how fierce in prayer could I be!  How present I could be in my life! How I could joyfully LIVE instead of stumbling through each day!

So what's holding me back? Lauren Daigle had it by the horns: "I believe what You say of me." How simple is that! 

God's appointments

"Disappointments are God's appointments." - Nancy Ravenhill

The way is rough. The way is long and hard. Nettles stick in the feet. Stones stub the toes. Bruises, bleeding, and questioning are the rules of the day. And then God comes alongside and speaks to the heart of the matter. The weariness lifts, the ache eases, and doubt subsides. 

Ever have one of those times when you didn't know if you were even on the right path, but all you could do was keep plodding? and then God meets your need and speaks to you through the darkness, and a little light comes on inside? It's almost as if the sky clears and the sun rises after a dark and rainy night. You want to tell everyone you know - Rejoice with me! Isn't this fantastic? Wow! God met me where I was, and He really came through for me!! Woo-HOOOO!!

Image "Sunrise At First Sight" by Keattikorn at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I had the privilege of watching that happen for someone today. It had been quite the rough patch and he wondered if there was even anyone out there who cared ... and then an act of kindness blew him away and he was left completely floored, amazed at the goodness of God and of those who share His heart for those who are in need. We shared in that rejoicing that comes when the poor widow finds the lost coin, when a prayed-for miracle happens, when God meets a need that seemed impossible. It was truly inspiring to see that, to be part of that experience.

And we spontaneously worshipped God together. God's presence was there in power in that humble little place, and we enjoyed true fellowship. We were sharing Scripture with each other, and listening to uplifting music whenever God would lead in that direction. We didn't decide, "Well, now I think we'll have church. Pull out the hymnbooks Martha May."  There was no organ, no offering plate, no trappings of any kind; just us. Yet Jesus was there, just as sure as we were, "in the midst." And He was (like we were) grinning from ear to ear all afternoon and well into the evening. It was one of God's appointments, and we were there to enjoy it and be grateful for it.

Life's trials are hard, no question of that. But I wonder sometimes if we've gotten it backward when we question His motives after we've prayed and nothing happens. Perhaps life's disappointments are rather opportunities for God to involve people who hear His voice, and allow those people to participate in what He is doing to answer someone's prayer, meet a need, or bring blessing to someone who needs it. 

I think that's how the early church operated. If there was a need, people stepped up and met that need in Jesus' name. Givers and receivers alike could rejoice in the goodness of the same God who allowed them to join in what God was doing in both of their lives: the receivers by receiving, and the givers by giving, both knowing that it is God who is the source!

Every day could then be an adventure, and there were endless opportunities for God's people to hear His voice and keep one of His appointments with someone who needed something special to remind them that God was looking after them. I'm not sure if that makes any sense to anyone, but there is a sense of community in that kind of sharing. 

And this kind of community, I believe, is what the writer of Hebrews meant when he said not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together ... and so much the more, as we see the day approaching (11:25). Get together! Visit! See each other! Share frequently what God is doing! Meet each other's needs, if God so leads! This is the kind of dynamic that I believe the early church had, and they did NOT have a budget or a building to maintain (I'm just saying). 

And this grass-roots community, these God-appointments, or simply put, God setting stuff up so we can share His goodness and His provision, is something we've been experiencing more and more the last few years, with several individuals as God brings people our way. Sometimes, we get some inkling in advance.  Sometimes, it happens when we least expect it. 

Either way, it's exciting. It's inspiring. It's marvelous!!

Delegated Authority

I work for the government in a job where I make decisions about eligibility for benefits. I apply the legislation and provide an impartial decision with reasons for that decision if I say no. My signature can also release funds to successful applicants based on an assessment of their disability.

But the power I have to make such decisions doesn't come from me. It comes from the Minister of my department. It's called "delegated authority" and it means that I have the right, as a disability adjudicator, to make decisions on behalf of the Minister. 

And it's that kind of delegated authority I would like to talk about in the spiritual sense and more specifically in the area of prayer for the sick. So welcome to the message I have burning through my heart, aching to be shared.

I went through all the gospels not that long ago, and I tried to find even one instance where Jesus ASKED GOD to heal someone or perform a miracle of any kind. Know how many times that happened?

Zero. 
Zilch. 
Nada. 
Zip.

When Jesus sent out seventy of His disciples to the countryside in pairs, He didn't tell them to ask the Father to heal, or to ask Him, even. He said, "Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons." (Matt. 10:8). So how did they do this? Yes, it was His power, His authority, but they did it like they saw Jesus do it... every single day. 

And how did Jesus do it? If He didn't pray to the Father to do it, how did He go about it? 

Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.
From this site

Simple. 

He spoke to the problem. He didn't plead for God to take it away; He TOLD it to leave. And it did. Every. Single. Time. 

I know, I know; I can hear you now. "What about 'if it be Your will'?" Well, let's look at that. When did Jesus say that to His Father? in Gethsemane! He was facing the greatest trial of His life (spoiler: the cross!), and naturally wanted to get out of it (umm HUMAN!) and it was THEN that He said "if it be Thy will." Hmmm. NEVER did He say that phrase in relation to healing someone. That's kind of revealing in itself, isn't it?

Isn't it just? The only time He prayed ANYTHING before a miracle was at Lazarus' tomb, and ONLY for the benefit of those in earshot. And moreover, there was no request at all. When He prayed, it was to thank the Father for hearing Him. That's ALL. And then He spoke to the dead man, and called him out of the tomb. 

I know the objections. I had them too. The person doing that kind of healing has to have a lot of faith. Yes, there is a lot of faith involved.  But here's the thing. It's not YOUR faith. It's not MY faith. It's JESUS' faith.  

Hear what I have to say. Romans 6:23 - "It is by grace you have been saved through faith, and that [that is, faith] not of yourselves. It is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast." 

Not convinced? Try Galatians 2:20, the last part of the verse, "...and the life I live now, I live by faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me..." Did you notice it doesn't say faith IN the Son of God... but faith OF the Son of God?  Folks, it's JESUS' faith! 

This means that I don't have to drum up my own faith or work myself into a frenzy for it; I just need to rely on the faith of Jesus, which is Rock-Solid! Resting in His infinite faith, I can speak to the sick (germs, sickness) with authority (because He has granted delegated authority to do so) and the sick people will recover. (That is in one of the accounts of the Great Commission, by the way.) And so can you.

Me? Really? 

Yes. You. Really.

When I first stumbled on the concept of speaking TO the problem and speaking in the authority of Jesus' faith --- it revolutionized my Christian walk. No longer was I pulling my faith up by the roots every week or so to see if it was growing. I focused on intensifying intimacy with God, and spoke to problems as they arose in the mighty name (authority) of Jesus. And let me tell you ... IT WORKS. So far, since about 2 years ago, I have lost count of the number of times people have been helped, healed, been strengthened, had needs met, and been built up physically and/or spiritually when I have used Jesus' faith and spoken into their lives - family, friends, perfect strangers, you name it, regardless of distance and regardless of whether they were aware of me doing it. 

It's amazing. It's revolutionizing. It's very humbling. And yes, it's even FUN. The feeling of being on an adventure is something I couldn't have foreseen, but it happens every time I am led to speak life or healing into someone's situation. And it happens a LOT more frequently than could be explained by just coincidence. And I am so very grateful... it's hard to describe how that is, but it just is. That He would trust me (and you) with that kind of authority - is very humbling... yet invigorating!

Let your hearts be encouraged. Let your minds be expanded. Let the peace of God reign. Let go of your doubts and let God's love motivate your spirit.  Take the place of authority you were meant to have. You will NEVER regret it.

Mothers Day

For all of my adult life, I have dreaded Mothers Day.  I thought of it as a day where people were gushing on about their mothers, how wonderful they were, how lucky they were to have such wonderful people who loved them unconditionally.

And I would compare their experience to mine and come up WAY short. Not everyone's mother is a saint, I would say. Of course nobody would believe that my growing-up years were so awful, especially after they met my mom. But the woman they met was not the woman I knew. They were totally unaware of what happened behind closed doors, and she liked it like that. And that, as Forrest Gump said, is all I have to say about that.

All that aside, soon after the death of my youngest daughter in a car crash, I started to rethink Mothers Day. This time, I started thinking about it from the other side - instead of me gushing on about my mother, I could look at it as my family honoring me AS a mother. 

Image by Liz Noffsinger at www.freedigitalphotos.net

That changed my perspective a bit. Especially when I look at how my relationship with my daughters changed after I got into therapy - hard to believe that was over 10 years ago!! - and I started to understand about personal boundaries. 

What I mean by personal boundaries is how everyone has them (including me), how I need to take a step back and not try to control everyone's thoughts, beliefs, and actions, and just let life happen, let people be who they are, and allow them to bear the consequences of their own actions without trying to fix them. 

That realization that everyone has boundaries (see my page on "What is Codependency?" on this blog) literally revolutionized my life and my relationships with my husband and my kids! I learned a whole new way of living life, and I would never go back to the way it was. That new lifestyle was a gift; it gave me another four and a half years of good relationship with my youngest before she passed away, and it has allowed me to grow and become a better person and a better mom. 

So instead of looking at Mothers Day as a time to honour my own mother (thus living a lie in my own mind - she was my abuser, not what everyone thinks of when they think of the typical concept of motherhood) I started to see the day differently: it became a way to celebrate the mom I am becoming. It became a means to let my children express their gratitude to me, and not robbing them of that experience like I did before. 

And instead of spouting all sorts of platitudes about HAVING a mom and feeling resentful of those people who had that gift in their lives, I could literally celebrate BEING a mom, breaking the cycle of abuse, and starting a new, gentle, accepting, and loving legacy. And that shift in focus helped me survive the annual dread-fest in the month of May at the beginning, and actually (as time went on) look forward to the second Sunday of May.

It's been a slow and sometimes painful change at times. As my own mother ages and gets further into her age-related dementia, she has already completely forgotten the things she did and said to make my life a living hell when I was growing up. And - though it surprises me to say it - it's become less and less important to me to have people believe my story, and more and more important to BE the kind of mother that I wish I had, the kind who showed her love in private instead of just in public, who supported me and who believed in me. She was rarely like that with me because she didn't want me to become prideful, but that fact doesn't keep me from choosing to be that loving, caring, accepting person with my loved ones. I can give them what I never was allowed to have: a chance to believe in themselves, to take pride in their accomplishments, and to have their own voice.

I've also been rethinking my reaction to others' desire to honour their mothers on Mothers Day. Before, I would roll my eyes or just want to stay away from folks who do that. I would hide in my house that day, want to pull the covers over my head, and reject any effort made to spoil me on Mothers Day. Honestly. What that did was steal something very important from my children, and make others who had good relationships with THEIR mothers to feel guilty for having something so wonderful.

Now, I'm more inclined to just say "Happy Mothers Day" to them.  But not only to them!  Now, I say it to women who - because of trauma - don't feel good on that day: women whose mothers were mean to them, women who never could have a child of their own, women who have miscarried, aborted, or lost a child to tragedy, women who never had the opportunity to have grandchildren, and also women whose children (and/or grandchildren) have walked away from everything they tried to teach them. Those are the hearts that hurt and weep on Mothers Day. And those are the people I think deserve to hold their head up and say that yes, I AM A MOM. I am worth something.

And we are.

One Bad Apple

I was talking with my brother about a situation that had recently troubled me regarding the actions of one individual, and how I was tempted to walk away from all members of that group based on that individual's actions. I had recently realized how that was an overreaction on my part. In talking about it with my brother, I inadvertently quoted a song by either the Jackson 5 or the Osmonds (depending on who you're talking to) called "One Bad Apple." I said, "One bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch." 

He responded by saying, "Yeah, as long as you don't let it sit there. Throw that thing away!"   

I nodded, making myself a promise to reflect some more on what was essentially an important life lesson: remove the toxic thing from your life so that you don't ruin your enjoyment of the rest of your life. Like when Jesus said, "if your eye offend you, pluck it out."  I don't think He was talking about self-mutilation, but about closing the door on something that was not healthy for you. 

Free image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

But also, just because one person did something that hurt you, don't assume that everyone who seems similar will be dangerous to you. That's living life in fear and allowing that one person to poison your future. Don't allow that to happen. Learn the lesson you were meant to learn from that experience, and after that, throw the rest away. Remember that even a spoiled apple has unspoiled seeds, that good things can come from bad events. It doesn't mean you go looking for the bad, or that you embrace that person again, but that you know that God is looking after you, lovingly caring for you. In remembering that, you can cast your cares and concerns onto Him and trust that He will be there, loving you, working everything together to make you more like Him (Romans 8:28-29). 

That was the 'sermon' that I preached to myself. It helped me become more willing to look for the good in things, and to not go to that place of viewing myself as a victim. Rather, I needed (and still need more and more) to trust myself to the care of God, to His grace and faithfulness, to know that He will allow into my life only that which will make me a better person. 

Finally, without belabouring the point, I needed to learn that there are a lot more good apples in my life than there are bad ones. I'm determined to keep it that way. :)