Redeeming Mother's Day

Me and The Three That Call Me "Mom"

Today is full of a bunch of different emotions for a bunch of different reasons.

Mother's Day. 

This is the first Mother's Day since my grandmother's passing. I miss her, but I also hurt for my mom, whom I know misses her so much more. 

May is the month the baby I miscarried would have been born. I hurt for the friends who see today as one of "what ifs" or "why not me." 

I have already been showered with gifts and attention from my three little ladies who call me "mom" and I have thanked God for the incredible blessing it is to be their mother. I feel grateful.

Currently, my feet are propped on the ottoman as I sit on the couch watching a movie with the girls as their daddy is slaving away in the kitchen making me a feast of my choosing. I am relaxed. 

There are lots of good reasons to celebrate this holiday. There are also more than a few valid reasons to explain why people would want to skip it too. A quick google search shows that there is even a little controversy about the origins of this day. It seems the lady who began the holiday wanted it revoked after a few years. 

Mother's Day has not, is not, and most likely will never be a religious holiday - BUT, it is a good opportunity to stop and reflect on a few things spiritually. This is what I am thinking about today: 

• First, I am thankful that God saw fit to bless me with my mom. She instilled in me a deep love of God and His church. I am who I am because of who she is.

• Second, I appreciate beyond measure that God's plan for me included motherhood. I do not take their role in my life for granted. They are simply fun. I love their giggles and their games. It is a privilege to watch them grow. I love being not just any ol' mom -- I love being their mom. 

• Third, I understand that my role in their lives is a God-ordained calling and ministry. Loving and caring for them requires prayer on a whole other level. My mission field is first and foremost our home. My deepest desire is for them to know and love Christ with a growing and abiding passion. The Holy Spirit saves and sanctifies them, but I am fully aware of my influence to cultivate an environment for His work. 

• Fourth, Paul writes in 1 Timothy about how women are saved through child-bearing. This passage can be confusing, but with a look a little deeper, his meaning is clear. God uses our kids to make us more like His Son. Being a mother is sanctifying. It is hard and wonderful and ugly and beautiful all at the same time. My kids can point out and bring out my sinful weaknesses. But, they can also highlight the areas and aspects of my life and heart where God has done the most work and brought the most healing. 

• Fifth, Mother's Day, with all its expectations and baggage, is a reminder that I am not my kids and my kids are not me. They are their own God created people. He determined to set us together in this family. They are not my identity and, as they grow, they will realize I am not theirs. He can and does things for them that I cannot - that was never mine to do. He holds them and keeps them. His plans for them are bigger and better and higher than mine because He is bigger and better and higher than me. 

• Finally, I know who I am has been set by God and determined in Christ - that reality is bigger than my kids. My purpose is higher than them, and that's pretty high. I do not live for them I live for Christ. When I fail, His grace covers me over and over again. It is more than okay that I am not Instagram/Pinterest perfect. In my weaknesses, He is glorified. I am satisfied not in my role as a mother, but in who I am in Christ. 

Yes, my feelings today are multi-facted and my thoughts are deep. But, overall, I am using Mother's Day to be grateful, to reflect, but to be in the moment. 

Now I am going to get off this computer and play some board games with my girls. 

Good Friday's Cross

Recently, I was excited to attend an event where one of my favorite authors would be speaking. One of my best girlfriends and I grabbed a nice dinner beforehand and we made our way to the venue. Before we found our seats, we saw and connected with ladies from all over town and various phases of our lives.

The worship was on point.

The Holy Spirit moved.

It was definitely where I was supposed to be that night.... but....

I couldn't put my finger on it. My girlfriend and I spoke about it some as we left that night. My sister-in-law also chatted with me about it the next day. Another friend who attended shared with me in the hall at church a couple of days later. - We were all glad we were there. We all felt the Spirit move - yet we all felt something was lacking....


This morning, in my devotional time, on Good Friday - it clicked . . . .

The text that night was Romans 8:1. The title of the tour was "The Freedom Project" and the passage was perfect. The author/speaker effectively and eloquently, transparently and profoundly led the women in attendance to lay down the sins of our past and challenged us to faithfully live out the truth of the verse -

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." Romans 8:1

By God's grace, He allowed us to feel the pain of exposing our sins . By His grace, we found accountability in confessing them aloud. By grace, we saw our sins for what they are, we felt real regret for their presence and prevalence in our lives, and we were able to feel forgiveness for what had been exposed. 

As one lady yelled from the back of the room, "There is NO CONDEMNATION!" and we all clapped and we all cheered.

So what was the hang up? Why couldn't I just chalk it up to a great night and move on? 

This morning, I read a devotional though by John Piper and he used the word "condemnation" and it all came into a clear focus. He wrote, "The death of Christ secures our freedom from condemnation (Romans 8:1). It is as sure that we cannot be condemned as it is sure that Christ died.... Condemnation is gone not because there isn't any, but because it has already happened..."

There is no condemnation for my sin BECAUSE Jesus took it for me. His death on the cross was the condemnation that my sin deservedly required. Good Friday is "good" because the price for my freedom from condemnation has been paid in full. Good Friday is ALL about condemnation. 

I was thankful for the "late" date of Easter this year. I thought it would give me more time to prepare my heart and the hearts of my daughters. But everything I tried so far this year was feeling coerced and contrived. Nothing was feeling authentic, but more like I was just going through the motions. 

It came to a head at dinner last night as Wally and I tried to talk to the girls about the significance and gravity of the night before Good Friday. Maybe it was Satan's distractions or our lack of prayer, maybe it was our approach or their own internal battle with their unrepentant hearts - but it just wasn't happening. (Honestly, it was most likely a combination of all of those things.)

Disappointment would be a good way to describe my mood as I prayed before bed last night. It had been an overall really good day with lots to be thankful for, but this was not spiritually how I wanted to spend this holy weekend ending in Easter. I asked for His intervention and He definitely delivered this morning. 

As I read my devotionals and felt the ending of the message started by that speaker dawn on my heart, the weight of the glory of Good Friday became real. 

Bible scholars call it "substitutionary atonement." Christ took my place, my punishment, my condemnation, that I may know His freedom, live my created purpose and pursue a relationship with God. 

"It is good to look back and celebrate the rescue of grace. . . . Grace lives a the intersection between clarity of sight and hope for the future." These were a few of the words of Paul David Tripp's in his devotional for today in his book "New Morning Mercies." 

"Intersection" - a crossroads, where two ideas converge . . . My mind went to the vertical and horizontal beams of Good Friday's cross . . . 

At the cross, grace allows me to look back and look within and leave my sins. Grace also enables me to look ahead at my present circumstances and future destinations with hopeful resolve. Vertically, my relationship with God is restored and my future is secured. Horizontally, I can see God restoring and redeeming my past, my relationships and my everything for His purposes. 

This morning, the "therefore" and the "in Christ Jesus" of Romans 8:1 is my mediation and my worship's focus. He heard my prayer last night. He wrapped up the spiritual longing I had been feeling. He began to truly prepare my heart to celebrate why I have no condemnation in Christ Jesus this Easter season. 

Now that He has placed my heart in the right position, I pray that He will use me to influence the other four hearts that call this house home too.... 

(By the way, I hope this author comes back to Clarksville, or Nashville or somewhere close soon . . . I will definitely be buying tickets!)

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Facing Fears By Holding Hands

I could tell from her cry that the fear was as sincere as it could be. Mommas know the differences in their kids' cries. It starts when they're young - there is the hungry cry, the tired cry, the change-my-diaper cry. . . As the baby gets older and is better able to communicate, some of the cries stop altogether, but there are a few tears that linger - the hurt cry, the angry cry and the scared cry.

At five and a half, Eliza had not cried the scared cry- not like this - in a long, long time. I recognized it instantly though and my heart hurt for her heart. I got on her level and did my best to help teach her how to address this very real, very valid fear.

"Look at me Eliza. What do you know to be true? Look at me. Let's think this through. Look at me. Look at me. The hippo isn't real. Look at me. It's just a robot. It can't get you. It won't get you. Look at me. I am right here. You aren't alone. Look at me. I won't let it get you because it can't get you."

Her sobs slowed and she slowly began to repeat the truths after me - "The hippo isn't real. Mommy is here. It's just a robot." We hugged and I took her hand as we proceeded into the restaurant to look at the aquarium of Finding Nemo type fishies.

Parenting that day outside of the Rainforest Cafe of the Opry Mills Mall, was definitely a moment where I felt the weight of my responsibility as a parent and, also was reminded about my role as a child of God as well.

Two of my three daughters have been deathly afraid of the life-sized animatronic hippopotamus outside of this particular restaurant. We've even nicknamed the whole mall, The Hippo Mall. On one level, it seems something silly to be scared about, but from their small vantage point in a time of their life where they are trying to ascertain reality from fantasy - it is a legitimate some thing to fear.

Eliza had been dreading that moment when we would arrive in THAT corner of the mall. Her feelings were so overwhelming, she could not rationally think through what she knew to be true. She could not talk herself off the ledge.  Her cry was one of desperation and despair.

As her parent, I know that she is old enough to handle this kind of thing - if she knows how. As her parent, I know that is my responsibility to teach her how to face this fear. As her parent, I know that teaching her to handle this fear gives me an opportunity to teach her how to face other fears, bigger ones, scarier ones, ones that won't be so easy to conquer.

So, I taught her to focus on the things she knew to be true. By teaching her to speak truths aloud, she can hear her own voice reminding her heart of what her brain already knows. That silly hippo no longer has a hold over her. His power is lessoned as her faith is strengthened.

Walking away with her little hand still grasping mine, I felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit.

This is why I read the Bible daily.
This is why I should memorize more scripture.
This is why I need to intentionally preach the gospel to myself.

I had studied a long time ago the inverse proportional relationship between faith and fear. When one increases, the other decreases. The more faith you have, the less fear and vice versa. If my faith increases, my fear will decrease. . .

When I find myself afraid, I need to do the very things I taught Eliza to do in the midst of that busy Nashville shopping mall. . . .

Look at Him.  - Just as she struggled to take her eyes off the thing causing her fear and refocus on her loving parent, I know I struggle too. I can't seem to take my eyes off my circumstances - that they will get worse or get me while I stop to look to God. Yet, He gently, consistently and patiently calls me to look at Him.

What do you know to be true?  - My God is bigger, My God is stronger, My God is higher than any other. (Do you know that chorus too?) He loves me. He has good plans for me. He will never leave me or forsake me. As I claim these truths, He shifts my perspective. What seemed so large, so overwhelming and so frightening no longer seems so daunting. He is given the rightful, dominate place and position over me and my fears.

Just as I reminded Eliza that I loved her and was there to take care of her - our God loves and cares for His children in the same way.

A few of the most fear-filled moments in my life were the hours I spent birthing our three loves. The Holy Spirit never failed to bring truth to the forefront of my mind as I dealt with painful contractions. The specific passages were ones I had memorized years before, but focusing on their timeless truth helped me to overcome my fears.

Despite His continual faithfulness in circumstances big and small, I still so easily become irrational and, at times, inconsolable over things that should not scare me. Satan knows my deepest insecurities and unashamedly exploits them.

His grace intervenes. Praise Him!

I need to be reminded of His presence in my darkest places and I need to know His truth reigns over all my feeble attempts of bravery and bravado. The Holy Spirit whispers, reminding me to look at Him, to reflect on what I know to be true.  As I speak the promises of God aloud, my heart hears the truth my brain knows and I am encouraged and empowered. My faith increases and my fear decreases.

Just as Eliza and I moved on, hand-in-hand, so will I. As faith, slowly and surely displaces my fears, I can walk confidently, holding the hand of my God who understands and controls what I cannot.


Photo by Jon Flobrant on Unsplash

Blessing of Brain Battles

Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash

I have always appreciated the way Wally and I could just "be" together. There doesn't have to be constant conversation or even distracting background noise. We are just comfortable with each other in the silence.

When we were first a couple, I would ask him what he was thinking about. When he would respond with, "nothing," I would find it impossible to believe. After all, in the quiet my mind had raced and rambled over at least a dozen topics and potential scenarios. It wasn't long into our relationship, when I came to accept the truth: he really can think about "nothing."

Another one of the many things that differentiates us in our marriage, is the amazing way Wally can compartmentalize his thoughts. When he's at work, he's at work. When he returns home, he can shut off work and be at home. When he's ready to relax, he does and he can think about "nothing," turning off his thoughts and not thinking. He can not stress about anything else.

On the other hand, there is me. When I am at home, I will think about what I need to do at work. When I am at work, I will think about what I need to do at home. When there could be a small window to relax, I can't because my mind is too busy thinking of all the other things that need to be done. OR - when I try to relax there is an all-too-familiar feeling of guilt, because of my inability to turn off my brain.

The internal dialogue in my mind is exhausting all by itself, but when emotions are mixed into the batter, the finished product is either burnt beyond recognition or left a soggy, raw, goopy mess.

This tendency is something I know I have passed on to my second born daughter.

I love how God gave her such passion. However, the ways her passions fluctuate are exhausting and overwhelming for her father and me. We often pine over how she must feel. For Piper, it is either the BEST day ever OR the WORST day ever - but - she can instantaneously go from one to the other and, without warning, back again. To call her "dramatic" would be an understatement. High maintenance? At times, most definitely, but never for very long. Her emotions make her complex, but because of their high intensity, we never have to wonder how she is feeling. We can simply watch how she enters the room, dragging and moaning or skipping and singing.

If I am honest, I am jealous of Wally's male mental abilities.
If I am honest, I know my emotions, while not as clearly visible as Piper's, have the same ability to rule and reign every aspect of my life.
If I am honest, I cannot deny that my jealousy and my inability to master my emotions are sinful.

Jealousy undoubtedly goes back to the 10th commandment where we are clearly told not to envy. Jealousy says that I am not satisfied with what God has given me. Jealousy proves that I feel that I deserve more.

Emotions, in and of themselves, are not bad, wrong or sinful per se, but left unchecked they can produce all kinds of havoc. My five year old had every right to be angry with my 15 year old. I couldn't fault her for that - the problem she had was that her anger ruled over her as she began to physically hit her sister in that anger. She sinned against her big sister by whaling on her. She sinned against God by giving into her anger and allowing that to be her motivation.

Like David writes in Psalm 51 - my sin is first and foremost against God. Yes, I should apologize for holding a grudge against Wally, but things can't be made right until I ask my Heavenly Father for forgiveness too.

The internal dialogue in my mind is most definitely, most of the time, a chaotic battlefield.

Thoughts that won't end. Emotions that fuel more thoughts. Satan knowing and attacking my most vulnerable insecurities. Desires to please God, but more emotions that scream of my incapabilities. Then there are hormones that demand attention. While I have never been in an actual, physical war - God's Word tells me that I am most definitely in a spiritual one. The frontline is in my brain.

However, His Word also tells me that He has won the war. With Jesus' resurrection, the final outcome has been irrevocably settled. The Good Guy won. By the faith through grace that He has given me, I have the promise of ultimate victory as well. There will be an end to the chaos in my head because He rules my heart.

The presence of His Spirit within me, is my not-so-secret weapon. I do not fight on my own strength or by my own capabilities. When I seek Him first, He illuminates Satan's lies for what they are, He throws me lifelines of truth to cling to from His Word, and He overwhelms me with the peace I so desperately need in the midst of the fight.

I am SO thankful, God didn't save me and just shrug his shoulders, say "Good luck, see you in heaven!" and walk away. Instead, He actively, intimately uses every aspect of the internal struggle within me to teach me and make me more like Jesus.

While I do envy Wally's ability to turn-it-all-off, I can and should thank God that the endless strain of stressful thoughts force me to depend upon Him. The mess of emotions compel me to dump my crazy on Him. Combined, they grow my faith, showing me that He can handle it. They truly teach me that His load is easy and His burden is light. They do all this and more.

So instead of wishing I was more like my man, I should thank God that I am not. I should appreciate this internal struggle for the many ways it grows my faith and my dependance on Him. I know I could not have learned these truths any other way.

Thank You God for internal struggle that wars within me.
Thank You God for the way it compels me to turn to You.
Thank You God for the assurance that battle will indeed end.
Thank You God for the ultimate victory to be had.

Holding On And Letting Go

Photo by Milada Vigerova

He had only been gone for 15 or so minutes when the phone rang. I had been enjoying the slow start to my Saturday and reading the news on my phone when his picture popped up. Swiping left, I answered his call. What could he had forgotten? He didn't really need anything to help the sweet church lady move into a smaller place.

I could tell instantly by the tone in his voice something wasn't quite right. His words were coming at my ears faster than I could comprehend what he was saying. "A cut . . . a china cabinet . . . I'm okay . . . headed to the ER at Exit 11 . . ."

Trying to assimilate the facts, I stammered out a question or two, still not able to ascertain what had happened. Did he want me to come? Was he sure he was "okay"? Did he think anything was broken?

I was to stay with the girls. He did not want me to come. I needed to wait. He kept saying he was okay.

About an hour and half later, he was on his way home and called again. Eight stitches. The full story - trying to clear the top of the moving van, holding the upper half of Mrs. Evans' china cabinet with the pastor, he slipped, landing on his knees, dropping the solid piece of furniture. It "just happened" to miss crushing his left-hand.

Yes, there had been a lot of blood.
No, he hadn't damaged the furniture.
Yes, it could have been a lot worse.
No, he didn't mean to get out of all the work by injuring himself on the first trip from the house to the truck.

I found myself looking at him randomly all afternoon and into the evening, silently praying, thanking God for His protection, for answering my prayers after the first phone call, and for taking care of my husband in ways I cannot.

At one point, Wally asked me why I kept looking at him "like that." My answer caught in my throat as the realization of what I was feeling bubbled to the surface. As I uttered the words, I fought to keep the hot tears from streaming down my face.

"Believe me, I am very aware that you are the exact age your older brother was when he died."

Saturday, I was faced with my very healthy husband's vulnerability, and, if I am honest, my greatest fear - that he would be taken from me.

On Sunday morning, as I stumbled from my bedroom into the kitchen to start the coffee, I had the fleeting moment when I had forgotten that my oldest daughter spent the weekend away on a church retreat. Seeing her door open and knowing that her bedroom was empty sent a numbing thought through my bleary, barely-awake brain - it wouldn't be long until I awake every morning to find her space empty. College may be a little over two years away, but they will be the fastest two years of my life.

Riley will be gone and the great responsibility to parent and disciple her will look vastly different. Right now, at least I have some kind of control and a greater influence to speak into her life-choices. As she has grown and gotten older, I have realized that she has to learn who she is and be able to make more and more decisions on her own. As she slowly stretches her wings, she has to face her own consequences for those decisions and my role her life, while it doesn't necessarily diminish, it has to change.

This is a hard truth pill to swallow.

She is not the little girl with the Star Wars fascination and collection of small lions she played with in her room. She needs me, but not in the same ways. I miss the grade-school kid she was, but I do love the young woman she is becoming too. I want to hold on to her, but I know I must let her go as well.

Holding on and letting go is a balancing act I am facing with my youngest daughter too. She is set -completely ready in every aspect possible - to start kindergarten in August. Due to the age gaps in between all three of our girls, it will be the first time in 16 years we have not had a preschooler in the house.

No more babies . . .

As I process all of these things, I realize I have to hold all of these relationships - my marriage, my three girls - in open hands before God.

To grasp onto any or all of them too tightly puts them all in the position of idols in my life. No one truly wants to be anyone's idol. What kid, or spouse for that matter, can handle that kind of pressure? Besides, that gapping place in all of us can't be filled by any one person or group of people. God put that hole in us to seek Him and find that only He can fill that void.

It's a total control issue for me. Control -mixed with my own expectations of how I think things "should" be. I continually set myself up for frustration and disappointment. When things don't go how I think they should, or if they don't respond how I think they ought to, then I am angry and even depressed. There is only One who can ultimately control the outcome and I have found Him completely worthy to trust with how things are "supposed to be."

By placing each of "my" people in outstretched, open palms, offering them to the only One who loves them more than I do - I can let them go. My faith isn't in them - their physical presence with me, or how much they need me, or any other validation I could find in them. My faith is in the One who placed them in my life.

He has plans for them. He hears my prayers for them.  He knows what is best for them. He sustains and keeps them.

He knows what is best for me too. He is using them to make me more like Jesus. He beckons me to trust Him even more with them. He sustains and keeps me too.

I'd like to say that that I have figured out this balancing act between holding on and letting go, but the way my fear washed over me Saturday and how I saddened at the sight of open door on Sunday - I know the struggle is real. I can only imagine how I will feel as the first day of school dawns and I watch my two youngest children shuffle up the stairs into the building - one her first day and the other her last first day of elementary school.

I want to believe. I say I trust Him. But my fears and insecurities betray me. Like the solider who sought Jesus to heal his daughter, I come to Him saying I believe but begging Him to help my unbelief all at the same time.

I don't know what He might ask of me in this process of sanctification. But I do know that He is good and is working good - for me and for those I love most.

Redeeming Valentine's Day

It was the first time we had hired a babysitter. It was about that time of the afternoon when we needed to start to get ready to go out. But, we knew something wasn't right. Our oldest was three months shy of her first birthday and she wasn't quite herself. The baby thermometer confirmed our suspicions. She had a fever and our Valentine's Day plans were now kaput.

Wally could tell I was disappointed. He knows my thing with expectations. He also knew I couldn't leave my baby. I don't remember if there were tears involved, but he jumped into action, calling my favorite Italian restaurant and ordering our "go-to" dishes for carry out instead.

While he was gone to pick up our dinner, I caught his enthusiasm for our plan B and set about to surprise him with a beautifully set table. The seldom, if-ever-before-used china and crystal were set on the good cloth tablecloth awaiting his return. We plated the steak, chicken and pasta from the styrofoam take-out containers and sat down to candlelight and soft music.

Riley rested contentedly in her bouncy seat and we had our Valentine's date. No, it wasn't what we had planned or anticipated, but it was wonderful. We celebrated that God had given us each other and the sweet, little one who cooed from the floor. We talked about how nice it was to be home and not fighting the crowded restaurant with long lines and chaotic atmosphere.

I believe it was that Valentine's Day we decided to redeem the holiday.

The fourteenth of February can be so polarizing and stressful. It makes some feel lonely and others feel let down. Card and chocolate manufacturers compete for our money. While jewelers, florists and perfume companies do the same. If you aren't "with" somebody, you wonder what is wrong with you. If you are "with" someone, you wonder if your gift is sending the "right" message or is the "right" size. In our over-sexed culture, romance has taken on new meanings. Without a biblical worldview,  people will be let down believing that this distorted definition of love is all there is. It is easy to become cynical and skeptical. Honestly, I can't blame anyone for discarding the whole holiday if this is what they are celebrating.

On the Valentine's Day described above, we had no idea that God would bless us with two more daughters to steward their hearts. We encourage Disney princess movies and Jane Austin novels. They witness kisses and embraces between their parents and know we have date nights and anniversary get-a-ways. They know we pray for their future spouses and that we long for God to bless them with strong biblical marriages to strong Christian men.  But . . . we pray for much more than that for them . . .

. . . We pray for them to intimately know the God who intimately knows them AND loves them with an amazing love beyond their comprehension.

We decided on that Valentine's night sixteen years ago to incorporate our kids into our Valentine's Day plans. We would eat a GOOD meal full of our favorites, either gathered from various restaurants or prepared in our own kitchen. We would break out the china and use the silver-plate. We would use this over-commercialized holiday to intentionally teach our girls about the love that is described in 1 Corinthians 13.

Boys will only let girls down. God did not design anyone person to complete any other person. That longing and desire that my daughters will one day have can ONLY be fulfilled completely in the love that God provides. Any other way will only lead to stressful relationships and disappointment. ONLY God can love them they way He created them to be loved. I want them to know this love.

Romance is not dead. Sure, chivalry might be, but true self-sacrificing, promise-keeping, faithful devotion, always-being-there commitment can ONLY be found in the love that God loves us with. No matter how wonderful he is, he will one day, somehow disappoint them and let them down. God alone will always be there for them. I want them to know this love.

No one can blame the spouse that bails on the marriage when their partner has broken their vows and been unfaithful. But, God forgives our indiscretions and paid the debt of our continued unfaithfulness. He knows our worst thoughts, wrong motivations and our out-right willful sins yet continues to be lovingly faithful to us. He doesn't overlook our short-comings but ONLY He can transform our offenses into His righteousness through the death of His Son. I want them to know this love.

This love that never fails will never let us down. This love is worth celebrating with the good china and rich food. This love should be remembered and talked about and given recognition. Our family chooses to do this on Valentine's Day.

My girls know I am crazy "in" love with their father. They know how handsome I find him and how devoted he is to me as well. We would all agree that one of our greatest blessings is the love that he and I share. I will not diminish it, but I will say that as great and as special as it is - our romantic love pales in comparison to the love that God has lavishly, continually, bestowed upon us.

We will exchange small gifts and cards. As their first Valentine, Wally will get the girls modest presents too, showing them his love for them in a tiny tangible way. He models for them something far greater than how they should expect a man to treat them someday. He is modeling for them everyday how their Heavenly Father loves them.

This intentionality has led me to use the seemingly endless stream of diamond, perfume and edible arrangement commercials to cultivate prayers of thanksgiving. By His grace alone, I am the recipient of the most amazing love. This is the love that I am choosing to celebrate this week.

I posted this tonight, so you might be challenged to do the same - redeem Valentine's Day. Use this secular holiday to commemorate and celebrate the sacred love that God has, is and will continue to give us.

Grace - Saving and Covering

The posters and other promotional material were soon all over the church. Before I knew it, the same hip graphic and my name were also being pushed out on the church's social media platforms.

Honestly, it was -and still is- humbling and intimidating to see the words "Key Note Speaker" next to my name. With the idea of "Ted Talks" and the experience of attending other conferences, my fear of what the attendees might expect of me was a very real thing.

So, I decided to start my talk with a disclaimer. I am no expert.

The conference was on parenting and prayer. Yes, I am a parent. Yes, I do pray, believe in the power of prayer and can testify to prayer's efficacy. But my kids are far from grown. They have real faults and I fail them often. I don't pray like I should, often making it my last resort instead of my first and I keep my conversations with God far too general and generic.

Even before I began, I knew my 20 minute time limit would push me. I had too many pages of notes, too many quotes I wanted to share and too many thoughts I wanted to be sure and convey. I wasn't surprised as Pastor John slowly approached the front of the room from the spot in the back he had assumed after introducing me.

I found myself scrambling to finish my thoughts, silently praying that somehow, someway God would bring cohesiveness to my words and that what He wanted communicated was somehow accomplished.

From the moment I finished into the next week I fought Satan's taunts. I kept striving to hold to the belief that God had answered the prayers I prayed for the event. From the time I had been asked to speak, I had prayed that He would speak through me.

I had even recruited close friends to pray for me that way too. Faithfully, several of them approached me after the event, asking "how'd it go?" Even last night with several friends inquiring, I found myself explaining how I was just trying to trust that God somehow said what He wanted said through me.

Today, God confirmed that He did answer all those prayers.

My friend and her husband had attended the conference. Immediately afterward she complimented me and I had dismissed it as polite platitudes and discounted her words. Somehow in my head, the notes I hadn't gotten to, on top of the ways I swayed from my outline were somehow greater than the kind things she had to say.

This morning she stood in my office and renewed her gratitude for what I had shared that afternoon. I started to dismiss her kindness again, when she stopped me cold by asking me if she had already told me about her son's conversion. Knowing and loving her little man, I told her she had not, and could not wait to hear all about it.

She shared specific words I had said and how another one of the presenters had encouraged the couple as well. That very night, after those sweet parents had prayed driving home, their son made his desire clear that he wanted to be a Christian and they guided him to accept Jesus as his own.

I felt the goose bumps rise on both my arms and legs as she spoke. God had used me. He had answered my prayers and the prayers my friends and husband had prayed for me. And now, He let me see how.

He didn't have to do that. Yet, he did. I could've lived the rest of my life never knowing how He had answered my prayers - but He allowed me a glimpse into eternity to see how He did use me.

Grace upon grace.

After I finished speaking that afternoon, I attended two of the breakout sessions and took notes. Parenting and prayer are two areas of my life that I can always learn more about. I want to grow in my practices of both.

Maybe I will blog about that someday. Maybe I will share my notes here that never made it to the conference attendees that afternoon . . .

But for today, I am choosing to thank Him for the ways He answered my prayers for speaking at that conference. God gave me victory over my insecurities and short-comings. He silenced Satan's accusations. He allowed me to see how He was indeed glorified in and through this sinner's words and actions . . . His grace has saved me and it continues to cover me.

If His grace would do all that for me, I know He will use it to do all that for you too. How has God's grace covered you recently?

Answering "Yes"

Sometimes, as a parent I feel like all I ever say is "no."

Sometimes, it seems like my kids have lost their common sense to ask me some of the things that they ask me.

Sometimes, they realize this before they ever ask. Anyone of them will preface their question with the phrase, "I know what you're gonna say, but ________."

My response to this last tactic is to ask them back, "Then why are you asking me?!"

The thing is, I think they know something. Not that it is likely that I will change precedent, but that they know that I WANT to say "yes."

I want to make them happy, to give them what they want, and to enthusiastically grant their wishes. (Even if their greatest wish at that moment is to eat a large bowl of ice-cream 5 minutes before dinner - I mean, who doesn't want to eat dessert first?!)

As our perfect, heavenly Father I believe God wants the same thing we do as parents. He wants to say "yes!"

We can trust that He will always say the right thing to us at the right time. He is always faithful to keep His word to provide for us what, when and how -whatever we need - most often without our "pleases" and "thank yous."

Too often I come to Him with my long grocery list of requests, some more sincere and heartfelt than others. Too often I come to Him assuming I know how He is going to answer my prayers before I ask them - if I decide to ask them at all. My lack of faith paralyzes me from even uttering many prayers . . .
Yet, He still wants me to pray, to ask, to seek Him.

If I want God to answer a prayer with a "yes" how then should I pray?

What are the prayers that God always answers "yes" to?

Anytime I have asked for more of Him - His presence, His wisdom, His glory, His Being - He has always shown up, revealing Himself to me, growing my faith and opening my eyes to Him.

Anytime I have confessed my sin - my pride, my prejudices, my desire for lesser things - He has always been faithful to forgive me, to restore me and to change me.

Anytime I have been hurt or lonely or afraid and I have simply whispered His name - He has always been there, proving His presence to me and giving me hope to press on.

How does He do it? How does He communicate all of that to me?

At times through worship or an encouraging friend's kind words - but always, always, always through His Word.

If I want to pray prayers that God will answer with a "yes" I need to know how to pray - not to get my desired results, but His. How do I know what God desires? By being in His Word, by reading how Jesus prayed, by learning His character . . .

Although, my tendency is not to approach Bible study and Bible reading this way. I want to check it off my to do list or add to my list of religious accomplishments - not really glean an applicable truth for my life.

I came across this quote recently on Instagram:

"...taking in his words at a more reflective and enjoyable (you might even say 'leisurely') pace - rather than rushing through to cover as much ground as possible. I remind myself that the goal is to find food for my soul . . . not check boxes and just avail my mind of additional biblical data . . Call it 'eating mindfully'. . . whatever you call it, finding a slower pace goes hand-in-hand with faithfully gathering a day's portion." - David Mathis

I realized that in my task-oriented day with my long list of responsibilities it is easy for me to miss what I really need when I read God's Word. As my loving, Heavenly Father, He wants to speak to me. He wants to spend quality time with me. Like a child with a short attention span or an easily distracted teen, I trade this opportunity for an audience with the King of the World for lesser things. 

When I am honest with myself and with Him - I don't want the kind of relationship He wants to have with me. I want the things He can give me or do for me. I don't want Him. This is painfully evident in an objective look in how I pray . . . SO often I pray and "obey" thinking He doesn't already know my real motives. My prayers are feeble attempts to manipulate Him into giving me "yeses" for the things I want.

1 Chronicles 16:11 tells me to "Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually." In all transparency - I don't want to do that. That does not sound like fun. That seems boring. 

So, what should I do? I have found to ask God something that He will always answer with a "yes." 

Anytime, any of us asks Him to give us a deeper, more real desire to be with Him, to be in His word, to want to want Him - He always answers "YES!"

The process of how He answers that prayer may be hard and even painful. Deuteronomy 30:6 tells us: "And the Lord your God will circumcise your heart and the heart of your off-spring, so that you will love the Lord your God will all your heart and with all your soul, that you may live." 

Obviously, I have never experienced physical circumcision. I do know that it involves cutting. I can imagine that it could be very painful in very sensitive ways. This spiritual circumcision of our hearts is no different. 

What does God use to cut out the bad parts of our hearts, the parts that want the gifts but not the Giver? 

His Word. Check out Hebrews 4:12: "For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, discerning the thoughts and intensions of the heart."

Now that's sharp. 

And it's another reason to be in, really in - His Word. 

Notice that as parents, that the above verse from Deuteronomy says that God will circumcise the hearts of our off-spring as well. As we read and are in the Word, we must expose our kids to it too. As much as I want God to answer my prayers with "yeses" I want Him to answer their prayers that way too . . . How am I teaching them to pray? How am I teaching them to read God's Word? What is the example that I am setting?

I want to answer my kids with "yes," and I want God to answer me with "yes." What's the condition of my heart? What does His Word say about it? Is it about me and what I want OR is it all about Him and what He wants?

Prayer and Bible study go hand-in-hand and are both necessities of spiritual growth. How we pray and what we pray for is directly impacted by what we learn from what God communicates to us in His Word.