"Are you taking notes?"

I was at the Beth Moore simulcast a week ago, and she stopped at one point in the midst of her message and asked, "Are you taking notes?" At first I thought it was a general question, intended to wake us up so we didn't miss something important.

The camera followed her off the platform to the shadows of the front row where she followed up her original question. "How old are you?" A 10 year old in the front row caught her attention. I can only hope her next words had the impact on that young girl as they did me...

"The Word of God will be on your tongue."

Can you imagine?

Would you feel that you'd been struck by lightening if a speaker (Beth Moore no less!) stopped their message to say those words to you?

And her mother! I can only imagine that mom going home and writing on her blog or in her journal about that message to her daughter. One of those instances like when Jesus told Mary "didn't you know I'd be about my Father's business?" and Mary went away and "treasured all these things in her heart." (Luke 2:41-52)

I believe that all 70,000 of us might have seen a prophecy at that moment (and that is not something I say often--maybe ever--or lightly). Beth Moore recognized the spirit of that young girl; a heart that is seeking to take in God's word so that, as we were reminded "Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against thee." May it be so, Lord.

Beth's message was rich with so many things to take away, but it was that exchange that stuck with me as I drove home.

10 years old.

Taking notes.

God's Word.

Beth noting that a child seeking God's word at that age has the potential to accomplish great things for God.

My oldest son is 5. He's heading off to kindergarten in a couple weeks. It feels like such a deadline to me. He'll be exposed to kids that I don't know and might not approve of. He'll be taught things that we don't necessarily agree with. Sure, I could keep him home and teach him myself and monitor all his playmates, but for now, that isn't what God has called our family to do.

It does make me aware though of making the most of the time that I do have with him. I need to make our moments together count. "Impress (these things) upon your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up." (Deut. 6:7)

Bug knows all his letters and is beginning to recognize words, but he's not really able to "take notes" in the sense we saw that night. But he can read my life. As Paul said, "You are a letter of Christ...written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts." (2 Cor. 3:2-3)

I am struck that I want to be sure to live my life in a way that when my son is 10, he is ready to listen to a new level of teaching; that he's ready to hear someone say, "The word of God will be in your heart."

Monkey with a Marble

This is a bug house. It's meant for young explorers to place their backyard prey into without suffocating them like our generation did when we simply put the bugs into a glass jar with some bits of grass and a couple holes poked in the lid.

This week I discovered a new use for it. Actually, 2 year old Boo discovered it. It can also function as toddler trap.

For some reason, he thought it looked like a good place to stick a rubber soccer ball. All was well until he wanted to get the ball out. In an unplanned version of the "monkey with marble can't get his hand out of the jar" experiment, Boo learned that the hand that goes in the bug keeper empty can't get back out when it's holding on to something.

I entered into the scenario when I heard one of those screeches usually reserved for an episode of sibling rivalry. I came around the corner to serve as referee and found Boo with his hand in the bug hut, stomping his feet and shaking it. I got him to stop flinging it around long enough to see the problem; his hand fit through the opening just fine, but with the rubber ball in his grip, he couldn't get it back out.

I got him calmed down and convinced him to let the ball drop. When he did, I could have pulled the insect habitat off his hand quite easily, but he shoved it back in because he didn't want to leave the ball behind. I had to talk him into dropping the ball again so we could get his hand out. As soon as I pulled the bug-house off, he started the foot stomping, shrieking again because he still wanted the ball. I don't think even a second elapsed before I tipped up the arthropod abode and the ball dropped out the opening into his outstretched palm. Mission accomplished; fit over.

In an instant I saw the parallel to my own relationship with God. I know that I have a tendency to hold tightly onto things that I prize. Relationships, jobs, financial matters, writing opportunities...so many things He's given me that I want to squeeze tightly lest it somehow escape or be taken away.

Years ago my mom taught me to picture my prized "possession" in my hand and to try to see myself opening my closed fingers to allow whatever I'm gripping to be held lightly on my open palm; surrendering it to the Lord to take or leave as He chooses.

After seeing Boo stuck in the bug house though, I have a better picture of how it really plays out. It's not about me holding my precious object on my open palm and lifting it up to the Lord as though it rests in my hand. What I really need to do is unclench my fist, actually drop the object of my affection, and let Him release it to me as He sees fit. Sometimes the very act of supporting it myself is what prevents Him from being able to let me have it!

Are you ever the "monkey with a marble?" Is there anything you need to drop completely so God is free to release it to you?

Afterthought--I think when I the kids are done with the bug house, I might appropriate it for myself and use it to keep reminders of the things I'm trying to turn over to Him. I'll write the things on slips of paper, put them inside and shut the door, remembering that trying to take them back out will only hinder me from letting God give me what He wants me to have, when and how He wants me to have it. (If you need a bug house of your own, they're on sale about now at places like Target!)

"Easy-going" isn't so easy!

Have you ever been surprised at other people’s assessments of your kids? Teachers, their friend’s parents, people who interact with your children when you’re not there.

People are always saying Boo is so sweet; he’s so easy going, etc. It usually surprises me because at home, “easy going?” Not so much.

He’s the one who reacts with great intensity—literally jumping for joy over something going his way, and throwing himself on the floor and wailing loudly when it doesn’t.

At the park not long ago I was talking with another parent about Bug’s calm demeanor. The dad remarked that Hubs and I “are both so easy-going….” It was a good thing I hadn’t just taken a swig of my water because I might have spewed it all over him in surprise. I hate that I couldn’t just take that comment in stride.

Hubs IS easy going.

I want to be.

I try to be.

But I know with my kids, I am so often NOT easy-going.

I think I used to be. I kind of had to be. Growing up, outbursts of any kind—happy, angry, sad, frustrated, whatever—were really just not allowed. If one slipped out, it was made very clear that it would not be tolerated. Sometimes with just a look, sometimes with a corresponding (and much more intense) outburst.

After a few years on my own though, when there was no one to stifle me any longer, I learned to express myself. Actually, it probably started about the time I met Hubs; the first person I felt really safe with. I didn’t feel limited anymore to sobs or screams muffled by my pillow, but graduated to all-out “expression” that left little question where I was coming from.

But you know what? (Aside from a few lousy drivers I encounter and only within the confines of my car) I don’t yell at people outside my house. I don’t flounce around in a bad mood. I don’t tell people who call at inconvenient times to “leave me alone!” (Although it is easier to ignore the phone than my kids when I'm "indisposed.")

Such behavior is pretty much reserved for home. For the people I love the most. For those who probably deserve it the least.

Recently when I picked up Boo from his Sunday school class the teacher told me again how sweet and cooperative and compliant (compliant!) he was. I responded, “I just wish he’d bring that home sometimes.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when my own hypocrisy hit me right in the face. As much as I wish Boo would “bring home” his easy going personality, I have a feeling my whole family wishes the same about me!

Colossians 3:12
"And so, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience."
I'll keep working on it!

.

Sleep tight

I made what some would consider a parenting mistake of the highest order when I opted to nurse my kids to sleep at night. It wasn’t my original plan, but when our first son developed RSV (respiratory syncytial virus) and was hospitalized at just 10 days old, my perspective on lots of things changed. Attaining his birth-weight was the most important consideration in getting him released from the hospital, so for that week I ended up feeding him whenever and for as long as he was willing to eat. That inevitably meant he’d fall asleep nursing.

Even after we left the hospital, I nursed “on demand” and felt I needed to keep him close at night to watch for further breathing difficulties. As time went on, Bug (like lots of babies) seemed only to fall asleep if he was being held. He would cry himself awake rather than cry himself to sleep, so we just stuck with what worked.

When I reached the point where he didn’t nurse any more, he’d become so accustomed to having me close by as he fell asleep, that it became our new routine for me to lay down until he was unconscious and then I’d sneak away to finally have a cup of tea that I could drink while it was still hot and talk to my husband or watch a TV show with real people in it.

When our second came along, we kept with the familiar routine. Boo is a bit more independent in the sleeping department though. He doesn’t wake with a start and a “please stay” if he notices the bed move when I’m getting up to leave. There've been many nights when it's taken a LOT longer than I wanted to get away, but I haven't been able to do the cold turkey "You're a big boy, go to sleep on your own" thing. Not only because I don't want to fight about it, but partly because I know the day is coming where they will expect me to leave so they can go to sleep and I will miss these moments where we both enjoy knowing they feel completely safe and secure.

Recently I decided to start trying to get Boo to go to sleep without really snuggling. I was on the bed next to him as he spun himself in circles until he was encased in the sheets like a larva in a cocoon. I moved away a bit to let him settle on his own. Unexpectedly, he reached for my arm and draped it over himself, and finally gave into sleep.

I thought, what a perfect picture of how we need to be with the Lord. At this point in my life it’s easy for me to fall asleep on my own and wake up on my own and go through my days maybe checking in with Him, but I’ve trained myself to “do it Bryself” as my little Boo says. But I know how much easier I relax, how much sooner I fall asleep, how much deeper my rest and better my dreams when I take a moment to wrap myself in the strong, protective arms of my Heavenly Father and rest in Him.

Tonight, be sure and say your bedtime prayers. Sweet dreams!

Psalm 4:8
I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.

.

"Stay with us always"

When I left for a 5-day conference not long ago, I gave the boys each a toy cell phone that I could record my voice on. It touched my heart to see how much they liked hearing my simple “I love you; be good for daddy; see you soon…” message.

The toy was too easy to erase though; the touch of a button and my voice was gone. When I got back from my trip 5 year old Bug asked “Mom, can you put your voice back on my phone?” He’s the same son who later asked when I was going to my conference again. “Do you want me to go again soon?” “No,” he said, “I want you to stay with us always.”

I may be all grown up, but sometimes I feel the same way, wanting to have a tangible reminder of God’s presence. I wish I could live in worship at church or the rich fellowship and teaching of a conference or immersed in the magnificence of mountains—anyplace his presence is so obvious and his voice seems so clear.

We have a loving Father who really does “stay with us always.” He never goes to a conference, takes a vacation and leaves me with Grandma, he's not even gone from me when he's "at work."

Instead of putting his voice on a toy that can be erased with the touch of a button, he’s given us his word that is filled with every word of encouragement, love, correction and instruction that we will ever need. When the days are long or the nights are scary, I can share my heart with him through my prayers and hear his heart by opening my Bible.

I hope to share with my son the comfort that comes from knowing that no matter who else may come and go, God is always with us.

Psalm 139:7-10

Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.

Northern Exposure

Our house here is situated on the lot so the front of the house faces east and the rear (where the kitchen and family room are) faces west. I miss the wonderful southern exposure of our home in Portland; the main areas of the house were bright all the time, which was important to me when half the days were gray!

When we bought this house long-distance (after spending maybe 10 minutes in it) I thought the east/west thing would work out ok here though because there is so much more sunlight to begin with. What I didn’t take into account is between the porch overhang in the front and the patio in the back, there isn’t all that much natural light inside for most of the day. So here I am in a “sun-drenched” locale, with the lights on from breakfast to bedtime!

Even more strange though, is that the two rooms that should be the darkest are actually the brightest. The boys’ room and the spare room both face north. As far as I knew, that always meant they got the least amount of light. In fact, before we moved in I had those rooms painted yellow (one is called “Full Sun”) to make up for the external light I thought they’d be missing.

What I hadn’t noticed was that those rooms face the giant, new, two-story house on that side. And, it’s that house’s southern wall. And sand colored stucco is a great reflector of light. So all day long those two rooms bask in the reflected light from the house next door. Those are the only rooms that don’t need a lamp of some sort during the day; you can even see the glow all around the edges of the doors when they’re shut.

More than once I’ve felt like a Northern Exposure room. Unable to catch a ray of sunlight, needing artificial illumination all day long. Work pressures, friendships lost to distance or difference, family matters, financial troubles—all sorts of things can make me feel a bit internally gloomy.

It dawned on me (pardon the pun) that I need to be like north-facing rooms in my house. Even when my situation means I’m not getting a lot of direct sunlight; if I can reflect the Light that always shines on me, my otherwise dark passageways will be fully illuminated.

2 Corinthians 3:18 "And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit."