Category Archives: sacrifice
Finding Rest
God promises us rest. He calls the weak and weary to come to Him. He tells us His burden is light and His yoke is easy; if we trust in Him, our burdens will be lifted and we will have rest. How great is that?
Unfortunately, I know the Scripture but my body doesn’t believe it. I’m exhausted! It has been two years since I have slept consistently. I’m tired of dealing with screaming kids and messes and laundry. I’m tired of giving to everyone and running everywhere and never getting a day off. Where is this rest? The blessing of children has forever changed my life (not to mention my body) and zapped whatever relaxation that may have previously existed. I know God gives us rest, but I sure don’t feel it.
How about you? Do you feel rested?
We know God never lies; His Word is fully true. So, how do we find His rest? We have a million and one things to do every day. People depend on us, but we can’t provide what they need if our own needs are not being met. And we need the rest God offers. How do we get it? We make room for it.
The problem starts with expectations. We believe people expect us to be the best at everything. We’ve got to have the best job, maintain the cleanest, most comfortable home, have the happiest spouse and the best-behaved children. We need to be involved in our church and our community and our kids’ schools. We’ve got to keep up with friends and family members, always being thoughtful and encouraging. And don’t forget the finances. It’s our job to be thrifty and wise with the money, getting the best deals on everything.
Guess what – none of this is what God expects from us. God expects us to love Him with all our hearts, souls, and minds. That’s it. Nothing more; nothing less. We don’t have to DO anything. We just have to be madly and deeply in love with Him.
The reason we don’t find rest in Him is because we are too busy living up to other expectations. We over-commit ourselves. We fill our lives with things that we don’t need – all the while sacrificing what we do need: rest in God.
We have to make time for it. Perhaps this means giving up a ministry that has you too stressed. Or spending more money on groceries so you can enjoy time reading God’s Word instead of cutting coupons. Maybe it means letting the laundry sit so you can curl up with a movie or a great book while the kids nap. I’m not suggesting we slack off on our responsibilities – only that we get our priorities straight. God must come first, so we need to make time for Him. Whatever will help you — a devotional, a babysitter, a change in thinking — whatever it is, find it. Go out of your way to make room for God’s rest. You won’t believe how good it feels.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” — Matthew 11:28-30
It’s in the little things.
Isabel has been struggling with her prepositions lately. In her language ‘to’, ‘for’, ‘from’, ‘at’, ‘in’ … they’re all interchangeable. She grabs onto the big words, the ones she deems most important, then kind of stammers through everything in between. Lately, her loudest and most clearly pronounced mistake is in song: “Stand up! Stand up to Jesus!”
I can’t tell you how many times we’ve tried to correct her. “No, honey, it’s stand up FOR Jesus -not TO Jesus.”
“I know, I know, Mama.” She then starts another verse, rallying troops against Christ. She doesn’t care much for those little words, but they hold a bucket of meaning.
Sometimes little things mean a lot. Sometimes we are so busy focusing on what we deem important we forget the meaning behind those little things.
Today my big struggle has been boredom. Both Ellie and Zach want my attention all the time. I’m not allowed to be a spectator or innocent bystander. No, I must get down and dirty with every game they imagine. Sometimes I love it. Today … well, I haven’t been lovin’ it. We played for half an hour with a piece of ribbon. Then we ran back and forth from the couch to the stairs pretending one was a bus and another was a train. At each stop we had to be sure our seatbelts were fastened just long enough to unfasten them and start over. This went on for about an hour. The whole time my mind was filled with the thousands of other things I could be doing. I thought about the piles of laundry in the basement and the dishes in the sink. I thought about that bill I needed to pay and some notes to remember for a writing project. I remembered a deadline quickly approaching and a friend I promised to call. I was bored out of my mind playing with ribbon and invisible transportation. But you know what? Isabel and Zach had a ball! They guffawed big belly laughs and sang happy little songs. Their eyes sparkled in a way I haven’t noticed in a while. These little ones are so important! Yes, that eye twinkle is a lot smaller than the pile of laundry calling my name. The giggles and tumbles and sweet imagination stories sometimes get lost in the big stuff, what I deem more important at the moment. But when I miss those little things … well, I’ve missed all the meaning – haven’t I?
My challenge to you: savor the little things. In giving little words of encouragement or a little smile; in those little, sometimes hidden moments of life we can find all the meaning.
So Long, Privacy … Hello, Rest!
When I first read “The Five Love Languages” by Gary Chapman I was convinced my two primary love languages were physical touch and quality time. Now, almost ten years and two kids later, I think they’ve changed. The problem is that it’s too late – I’ve already passed them onto my children. They both need lots of assuring touches and lots of quality time. While eating, Isabel will rub her foot against our legs and Zachary will keep his hand on top of mine throughout the entire meal. It seems a subconscious need. As is the nature of toddlers, they both require full attention from morning ‘til night – and sometimes even then.
All this touching and neediness can put me in overload. It’s just too much. Some days (like today) I think I’ll scream if one more person touches me. Privacy and personal space have gone the way of manual typewriters: I vaguely remember them with some fond reminiscence, but have great difficulty finding any. My showers are always interrupted by some knocking on the door or a little one playing peek-a-boo behind a towel. I can read only a sentence or two before becoming a living jungle gym. Whatever I do – dishes, laundry, vacuuming, talking on the phone – it is all done with someone touching, someone shadowing, someone demanding equal or greater and simultaneous attention.
The other day I saw myself through my life ceiling: I was sitting on the john trying to do my business. Isabel sat on her potty trying to give a synchronized performance. Zachary sat at my feet hugging my legs and trying to climb into my lap. The funny thing is I didn’t see this as unusual. This has become my life. Unknowingly, I signed some contract upon becoming a mother that surrendered all modesty, privacy and personal space. Even as I write now, Zach is jumping on my arm and spitting gibberish on my laptop. (Yes, the same laptop I pronounced toddler-free just a few weeks ago; the same laptop into which Isabel tried stuffing raisins earlier today.)
Two things come to mind.
First, I am grateful God never tires of us. I don’t want to say I tire of my children – I love them dearly! – but there are definitely times when I need a break; I need some “me-time” to rejuvenate and refresh. Praise God He does not need that! His strength and patience are infinitely sufficient. He never needs a break from us. He never needs time to re-fuel.
Secondly, this same God who never tires has promised us rest.
“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” – Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)
Moms don’t get to leave work at the end of the day; we never get a vacation, but that’s okay because God doesn’t either. The good news is we can swap our burdens with Him. By learning from Him and following Him, we can have a lighter burden. It’s not our responsibility to raise perfect kids. We don’t have to be perfect parents who never tire of sacrificing all for our children and rejoice with every interrupted endeavor. We can rest knowing that God is carrying these burdens with us. We can surrender to Him and know that He will take care of us and our kids. We can trust that they are in His very capable hands and flawless care. This is where parents find rest.
As for privacy and personal space … well, I’ll let you know if I find it.
The Gifts We Bring
Christmas is only a week away. I recognize by stating that simple fact, I’ve lost many of you to your to-do lists. Minds are racing through what was meant to be done yesterday and must be done within the next seven days: cards to send, gifts to purchase and wrap, cookies to bake, relatives to visit … This is what Christmas is about – right?
Isabel has been flooded with the reason we celebrate Christmas. Does she know presents are coming? I’m not sure. She is too consumed by the lights, the songs and the Nativity. She wakes up asking if we can do the advent calendar and goes to bed singing “Away in a Manger” or naming all the key players in the story of our Lord’s birth. She knows exactly why Christmas exists. Her wonder is contagious.
Two major things have happened in the life of our two-year-old recently: she has learned to use a toilet and she had her very first concert at church. Potty-training was very exciting, for her parents as much as her. Nearly perfect, the task took about a week. The concert was also exciting. Wearing her satin Christmas dress, Mama’s pearl barrette holding back a couple curls, Isabel announced: “My teachers will be so happy because I am SO pretty!” They were and she was. Her Sunday School class sang three songs for the congregation – one of which was “Happy Birthday, Jesus.”
Isn’t it odd how we celebrate this holiday? It is commemorating the birth of Christ, but we give gifts to each other. What about the guest of honor? What does He receive? The speaker at our last MOPS meeting discussed ways of keeping Christ in Christmas. One suggestion she gave was to have our children make lists for Jesus. Instead of focusing on what we hope to find under the tree, think about what He might want from us. It was a sobering thought to me in the midst of American commercialism and holiday hype.
Isabel gets it. She reminds me every day. We have a little party each time she successfully uses her potty. She gets M&Ms or a sticker and we give high-fives. But since her Christmas concert, she has added something new. She looks into her potty, throws her hands up in the air and shouts, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JESUS!” It is as if her very efforts and obedience are a gift to Him. She has tagged this exaltation to other things as well. If she eats all of her meal … “Happy birthday, Jesus!” And when we clean up toys, well, that is worthy of a song.
This season really has nothing to do with all the things we stuff into it. It’s not about busyness, perfect portraits or annual letters to friends. This is a birthday celebration for our King. The magi brought gold, frankincense and myrrh. What are we bringing to the party? What are you giving Jesus this year?
Like this:
Weary Without Praise
Moms are notoriously underappreciated; as are spouses, pastors and missionaries. Too many families serve up broiled pastor every Sunday. Missionaries are often only worthy of our leftovers. And if your spouse can’t keep the house clean or come to dinner on time, well, then it’s just not worth serving dessert, is it? You are probably expecting me to give a summation of how we should show appreciation for all those around us; how we need to give praise and encouragement more freely. I won’t argue with that, but it is not where I’m going today. I am more concerned with the attitudes of the underappreciated.
This is one of my biggest struggles. As a stay-at-home mom, I often feel over-looked and under-valued. I carry no fancy title. There is no visible productivity. I am not bringing home a paycheck and at the end of the week I have no tangible signs of progress. What am I doing every day? Oh, I know this is an important job – one of the most important jobs; but the recognition is not there. This is not a profession respected in our society. When my kids are having a bad day, I am the one getting dirty looks in the grocery store. It doesn’t matter how wonderful they may be the rest of the year, that one fit in aisle seven cements the judgments of every shopper who hears the screams.
It is human nature to crave praise. We want to be told how good we are. At the same time, it is contrary to our nature to give praise. So we are a people longing to hear how good we are, but reluctant to tell anyone else how good they are. This is a predicament.
The solution: Cling to Galations 6:9. We must persevere in doing good. It is hard and it makes us weary, but we must press on because a reward is waiting for us. If we give up on hard days, we will never see the harvest; we will never reap the benefits of our work. It is in this harvest that we will receive our praise.
Sometimes Ellie and Zach will pounce on me with praise, usually at the prompting of their father. Those moments are the most precious. It is then that all my sleepless nights and frustration-filled days are erased. In those moments I am overcome with gratitude for this “job.” I am humbled. And I am reminded not to give up because the harvest is yet to come. Their little showers of praise are nothing compared to the flood of blessings that God has in store for those who follow this verse. Can you imagine? Little seeds … tender care … persistence.
Do not grow weary, my friend. Do not give up. Continue to do good, even when no one seems to notice. Do not wait on praise or measure your performance against the recognition. Saturate this world with your good deeds. I’ll see you at the harvest party.
To Survive or Glorify?
Today is one of those days. My to-do list is a mile long and the kids are in a mood. I’ve handed out ten spankings and it’s only 9am. An appointment has slipped my mind until the last moment. I shower, dress, pack the diaper bag and get the kids in the car in fifteen minutes flat. Not bad – right? Except now I’m harried and rushed and simply cannot find a moment to regroup. All I can think about is how my socks don’t match. I remember the luxury of make-up. Ahh … those were the days! Back to normal life: There is nothing like lunch with over-tired toddlers and picky eaters. My white T-shirt (my last resort, worn only on laundry day) now has red jello marks all over the shoulder, and my lap smells like urine (not mine). I finally get the kids down for a nap; then, discover they have locked me out of the bathroom. This is my day.
Now, you’re probably expecting me to say something profound about God giving us rest and all the strength we need to survive each day. I will not refute that – He most certainly does! But today a different verse is on my mind: 1 Corinthians 10:31.
“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” (NAS)
We do a lot of singing in our house. We have a song for just about every occasion. We sing the hymn “Stand Up for Jesus” nearly every day when prompting the kids to stand up to get dressed, get out of the bath, get off the floor in a store … We have a good morning song (compliments of VeggieTales). We sing a ton of choruses and kid songs all throughout the day. We even have a clean-up song (thanks to Laurie Berkner) that we sing whenever putting toys away.
The other night, as we were straightening the living room before bed, Isabel took the initiative to start our song. She sang loudly: “Clean up! Clean up for Jesus!” She had combined two of our usuals to make a whole new song.
This is what is on my mind today. She was cleaning up for Jesus. She was thinking (and singing!) of Him as she did her little mundane task of putting away her toys.
God doesn’t want us to simply survive our days here on Earth. He wants us to glorify Him through every moment of our lives. He is longing for us to drive to appointments for Him; to change diapers for Him; to go to work and stare at a computer for 9 hours … all with the purpose of glorifying Him. This life must be survived, there is no doubt. But there is much more to it than just survival.
Let me encourage you today: Clean your house for Jesus. Wash your car for Christ. Be nice to your boss for God. In all that you do, be it at home or elsewhere, do it all for the glory of God. Don’t live today just to survive; live it to glorify.
Imitators?
Many have called Isabel my “mini me”. She has my sandy-blonde hair, my full lips and my pointy chin. We’re not sure where she got those curls or the brilliant blue eyes, but, for the most part, she is my clone. She possesses more than a few of my mannerisms.
The three of us – Ellie, Zach and I – were outside today. Zachary was sitting in Ellie’s big, old, plastic car. I was relaxing; reading a book. Isabel was trying to convince Zach to get out of the car so she could have it. As I listened, I heard nothing more than an echo of myself. “Zach, honey, you play with this instead?” A little later she leaned over right at his eye-level, “Me no like that, Zach. No, no. You don’t do that.” Her tone was identical to mine.
Sometimes, though, when she does something unusual, I wonder: “Is this a reflection of me, too?” Her afternoon snack one day consisted of a bowl of watermelon and cantaloupe. As I worked on cleaning the kitchen, Ellie found a bowl of half-eaten chocolate Chex Mix. She carefully sprinkled it over all her fruit, then exclaimed: “Ta-da! Mama, look!”
“Oh, is this your new recipe? Very nice.”
“Me call it ‘messy house’. You like it?”
Where did she get that? Is it a reflection of my creative culinary experiments or my dreadful housekeeping skills? No matter. The real question is: what does God think when He watches me? Am I portraying His character in a way that makes Him proud? Or is He wondering where did I get that?
The Apostle Paul gives us a ton of guidelines for righteous living. He lists several specific behaviors and temptations to avoid right here in Ephesians. Go back a bit. The whole section from 4:17 through the end of the book lists item after item. These are the things NOT to do. To sum up all that we must DO, Paul gives us these two verses:
“Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” — Ephesians 5:1-2, NIV
The key to accurately imitating God is to “live a life of love”. If we do that effectively and completely, we will naturally match His character. In that one command we will find unity, peace, wisdom, compassion, charity … all that we need.
So, how are we doing? Does your life radiate God’s love? Are you reflecting all that He is? I know I fall far short, but I’m working on it. Let’s not be sad portrayals of our King. Rather, let us strive to reflect Him with precise clarity. May others see Him in us – in our mannerisms, our tone, our lives, our love.
This is my life.
I am about to be published! Yeah!! This article will be the front page feature in the September issue of FaithWriters Magazine.
“Alright, all I need now are your keys.” Slowly, reluctantly I handed the keys to my husband. The keys to my sweet SUV. I loved that car. As I watched my husband drive away with it, I started to cry. More than that. I was sobbing. We were trading in our hip little Honda for a monstrosity: a minivan.
There were several things I promised myself in college. In addition to living without regrets, I promised myself that I would never be domestic. I would never be one of those middle-aged suburban women with decade-specific style who look forward to Tupperware parties.
Now, look at me: I am the very definition of domestic. I am thirty, a wife and stay-at-home-mom to two; living in a safe suburb. I have a mortgage and a minivan. My last night-out was to a Pampered Chef party. Boy, was I excited to go to that! I spend my days planning healthy meals, cleaning house, and evaluating my kids’ activities and TV shows. What has happened to me?! This is not the life I was meant to live.
I am supposed to be living in some third-world country feeding the poor and building homes. I am supposed to be working with an effective church-planting mission; inspiring Christians back in the States. My husband is supposed to be a powerful teacher – not a computer geek working for Wall Street. We are supposed to be leaving our mark on the world. Instead I am cleaning crayon marks off the wall.
Getting a minivan was the personification of surrender. Not the peaceful surrender one experiences from submitting to a loving husband or wise and merciful God. No, this was a last-ditch surrender: the reluctant retreat after screaming and fighting and finally raising the flag of defeat. Yes, with two car seats and frequent visits from distant relatives, we need the space. And, yes, the DVD player is great for those long road trips planned. It really is a wonderful car, and an extremely practical choice. But it is still a minivan. All those dreams of changing the world are now forever just that: dreams. How can I change the world in this? It simply screams “un-cool” and “mediocre”. If anything, my purpose is to be extraordinary! There is no way to be that in a minivan.
Okay. Deep breath. Who is really in charge here? God is the creator of all things. He is mighty and powerful and perfect. He knows what He is doing. He is bringing to completion His “plans formed long ago with perfect faithfulness” (Isaiah 25:1, NAS). That is His promise – is it not? How can I doubt that?
Sunrise. Sunset. Another day in our home. I wake up early and feed the kids. We watch a cartoon during breakfast then run outside to play. I chase Ellie around in circles and tickle Zach until he can’t take it anymore. Naptime. Laundry time. Snack time. A trip to the park and an hour of reading the same books – books I’ve had memorized since the first thousand reads. Finally, Daddy comes home. I have an adult to talk to! But only after we have dinner and play a little longer. Bath time. Bed time. This is my life.
Today Ellie came to me holding her doll. “Baby sick,” she said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. What should we do? Do you want some medicine?”
“No, Mama. Let’s pray! Baby better.” Was that my two-year-old? I am blown away. Not only is her first instinct to pray, but she firmly believes that God, her Creator can and will heal her baby.
A little later she comes to me again, this time with a big hug. She explains to me that Zach is her brother. “Thank you, Mama, Zach! Thank you my brother!”
How can I describe this life as anything less than extraordinary? How can I question my purpose when these miracles assault me every moment of every day? Motherhood is an overwhelming responsibility. An intimidating honor. Yes, I am just a stay-at-home mom, but my charge is enormous. God has made me steward of two wonder-packed creations — to teach, mold, and guide. What an awesome task!
I am changing the world. Perhaps not in a grand, widely-visible way. My name will never be in the ranks of Elisabeth Elliott or Amy Carmichael, but my purpose is no less significant. I am changing the world one tiny soul at a time. How extraordinary.
