Blessed Family

Our blessed family last Spring...

I Will Give You Rest...

My husband is going to Boston tomorrow. His brother is receiving his doctorate from Boston College on Monday (congratulations Kevin!) and Charlie and his parents are making the trek for the celebration. When we first discussed his going on the trip, I was excited for him. I've never been to Boston but I know it will be a great trip for him and will give him some much needed R&R. But, as time went on, it started to bug me every time we talked about it or every time I talked to his mom about the details of the trip. I was still rejoicing that my husband will be able to get away and enjoy himself but I was also starting to feel envious of those five days. The more it festered in my head, the more irritated I got. Then, I started hearing about other people making plans to go on vacation or get away for a few days and the irritation grew into anger.

Okay, God, I'm happy for Charlie, but what about me? I'm tired, too, and I need a break. I'm going to be all alone for five days with no help, no family, no husband, and no vacation in sight. I'm the one who loves to travel and see new things. I'm the one who enjoys living out of a suitcase and wandering around strange cities and towns. Don't you see how hard I'm working and how much work there is to do?! When do I get a break?

I kept trying to push those thoughts and feelings down deeper and deeper but they kept bubbling up and manifesting themselves in ugly ways. I was embarrassed to admit my jealousy to anyone, including God. Finally, after praying with Charlie one night this week about something totally unrelated, we said "Amen," and then I started to cry. I confessed to him that I was jealous of his trip and struggling to understand why God wasn't answering my need for a break. I knew I could handle the kids for a few days alone, but I wanted to have my own "Jen Time" to look forward to. He hugged me and encouraged me to pray about it. I sniffled an apology and told him I knew I should.

As I started to talk to the Lord about it, He began by reminding me that He is in control:

"Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding." Job 38:4

"I know that You can do all things, and that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted." Job 42:2

I had been prideful to question God's provision in my life. I assumed that I had a legitimate argument and was demanding an answer. Not only that, but I was actually questioning whether or not God was paying attention to the details of my life. I had allowed my emotions and my sin of jealousy to drag me into a pit of selfishness and despair. So, lovingly, God reminded me that He is sovereign and He has purposes that will not disappoint.

Then, my Jesus reminded me of His tender words:

"Come to Me all who are weary and heavy-laden 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

Those words pierced my heart and mind. "I will give you rest." The rest isn't found in a vacation or "Jen Time." Rest is given to me by Jesus. He promises that He will give me rest if I simply come. Beautiful but forgotten by my wayward heart. I was so focused on what others were receiving that I had forgotten the true treasure of these words. It was also convicting. If I am so tired and worn out, was I really spending time with the Lord? If He promises rest, why am I so weary? Could it be that my spiritual gas tank is running on fumes? How did I let things get this way? Why didn't I notice sooner?

I know all the answers to those questions and I know the solutions, too. I'm not so new to my faith that I am without the necessary tools to fix this problem. I know I need to be in the Word daily--more than the five minutes I've been putting in as I referee the girls' breakfast. I know I need to truly worship the Lord--and not just when I hear my new favorite worship song on the radio as I wait in line at the bank drive-thru. I know I need to be in my prayer closet--not just praying as I search through my closets. I know I need to be giving and serving and really looking for ways to use the gifts He has given me--not just waiting for someone to ask for help. Somehow, someway, I had gotten off course and the Lord had used this opportunity to show me how far away I truly was. (Thank You, Lord!) My next few posts are going to be on those issues of Bible study, worship, prayer, and serving. Mostly as a tool for me to articulate what God is renewing in my heart so I can be refreshed. Maybe they will help someone else, too. Praise God that He sees His children for afar off and runs to greet them and bring them home!

Praying For Poop

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." Philippians 4:6

It's been a big part of my life since the day our first child was born. Poop. First, we were overwhelmed by how much one tiny baby could produce. Then, we worried if we had a day without it. We would study with curiosity the color, consistency and size of it and then realize only a parent would spend so much time doing so! At one point, we had two super poopers in diapers. Our first two daughters are only nineteen months apart so we were on double diaper duty for almost eight months. Then we reached the age of potty training, and had to teach each of them to put the poop somewhere other than their diapers or training pants. It took a little more convincing with daughter number two, but we successfully taught them both to do the deed in the "big girl" potty amidst celebratory cheering that rivaled the Super Bowl.

Baby Girl #3 is a different story all together. With her food allergies, her poop is...well, we'll just call it interesting to spare you the intimate details only her father and I can discuss over dinner without gagging or losing our appetites. For eight months now, we've dealt with her "blow-outs," as we call them, on a regular (sometimes daily) basis. Specifically, for the past two weeks, I've had to get the other two dressed and started on breakfast before retrieving Olivia from her bed. I always know what I'm in for by the stench, or lack thereof, from the hallway. If my nose goes on high alert, I get the shower started and then bathe her from head to toe. It's not a great way to start the day for either of us, but when you're totally in love with your child, you adjust.

Last night, I was tired. I mean, physically tired, but also tired of cleaning up poop. I don't mind diapers and potty chairs, but on the bed? The sheets? The carpet? The walls? That I mind! So, I prayed. And, the prayer went something like this: Father, thank You for the gift of Olivia. Thank You for the way You have made her. I know You made her this way to glorify You. I'm not going to beg You to heal her because I know You will in Your own time. I am asking You for something that seems hard to talk to You about, although I know You see all and know all and You know this, too. Father, could You please keep the poop in the diaper? It can't be healthy for her to wake up like this every morning and, it isn't fun to clean it up, either. Whether Your answer is "yes" or "no," I trust You and know that You want me to come to You with ALL things. Thanks for letting me come to You with this. Amen.

It wasn't a fancy prayer but it was heartfelt. I wasn't desperate but ready to let God take over. I had done all I could think of to make the situation better and was out of ideas and energy. Guess what? The poop was in the diaper this morning, praise the Lord! We had a regular diaper change. I didn't have to don a hazmat suit to pick her up. No bath, no change of clothing, no extra linens to wash this morning. It was a miracle right there in our home! Praise God!

Now, some of you are giggling and cracking up that I just spent all this time writing about poop and it's place in my life. But, that's where the real miracle happened for me. God has been whispering to me all day about little things that He wants me to turn over to Him. Things that seem too mundane or common place to bother Him with. Things that are almost embarrassing to admit are hindering my walk. Things that should be called sin but I call them something else. He wants it all. Every thought, every feeling, every poopy diaper or stinky situation. He wants me to talk to Him about all of it and then wait for His answer. He wants me to pray for poop...and running out of milk, and trying not to eat so much chocolate, and not rolling my eyes in disrespect, and all the other little things that I so easily sweep under the rug. So, I'm going to try. But, I'll always remember it started with poop.

Why Do I Write?

When I started this blog, it was partly to create a way of capturing the precious things happening with my children and husband. Mostly, though, it was (and still is!) an exercise in obedience. The Lord had been urging me to write for awhile and I was avoiding His leading. I wanted to experience a fuller, deeper relationship with God so I took a deep breath and started a blog. I'm not a web-surfer--who has time with three little ones?--so my only real exposure to other blogs were the ones a few friends were also writing. I loved reading their adventures in mommy-hood, too, and thought it was a great way to chronicle my own adventures.

Since I started blogging, a whole new world has been revealed to me. There are literally thousands of other bloggers out there, writing on a whole host of topics. I steer clear of anything that doesn't have clear Christian content so that narrows it down to a few thousand. There are so many other Christian women out there, writing about their walks and talks with Jesus. It's inspiring! It's also intimidating. I look at their sites and see their cool graphics and links. I also see how thousands of other people have read what they have written or the number of people who leave comments on their posts. I see their sites listed as "must reads" on other blogs. One blog I was reading today had over 6,000 different people subscribing to it! Wow. As of this evening, I've had about 90. Satan wants me to think that my writing has no impact; that I have no influence for Christ. But here's the thing: If I choose to obey Christ, I make an impact. Obedience leaves a deep impression when I obey the Lord.

It made me ask myself, "Why do I write?" Some days, I write to relieve stress. Other days, I feel compelled to capture some sweet but fleeting moment in my children's world. Many days, I sense the Lord urging me to share what He is doing. What I hope God is doing in my heart is answering my prayer to be obedient in this area of my life. It isn't for me to concern myself with who will read this or share this or be moved closer to Christ. I need only concern myself with the condition of my own heart: yielded and pliable or stubborn and rigid? Am I really allowing myself to be poured out, a broken vessel, a grafted branch? Am I willing to let God use what He is doing in my life for His glory, whatever that may be?

So, if you read my blog faithfully, thank you! If you have shared this with a friend, praise God! And, if not another soul ever reads what I write, I will still be blessed because "to obey God's voice is to be God's special treasure." (Exodus 19:5)

Thanks, God, for helping me obey You. Thank You for giving me Your words. Thank You for letting me see just a glimpse of what you are doing in my life. I love what I see of You! Amen.

The Fence

We have a fenced in back yard. It wasn't that way when we purchased our home seven years ago. A privacy fence ran the length of the southern edge of our yard and the rest of the yard was open. Our poor pooch, Elvis, had to be tethered to a runner that ran from our tulip tree to the garage so he wouldn't escape, or worse yet, attack anyone who dared walk down the alley separating our house from our neighbors. After we started having children, we wanted to install a fence for them and for our dog. I wanted a nice, tall, white privacy fence. It isn't that I don't like people but we live on a noisy, busy street and I liked the idea of creating a more intimate, private space. In the meantime, my father-in-law was able to salvage the chain linking from his neighbor's fence, free of charge. My in-laws offered to purchase the gates and poles and other miscellaneous hardware necessary to fence off our yard. So, we could spend several hundred dollars on the pretty, white, private fence I wanted or we could have a shorter, non-private but free fence. We took the free fence and I consoled myself with the fact that at least part of our yard was enclosed by the neighbor's privacy fence. We thanked God for the gift of the fence that kept our children (and dog!) safe.

That was three years ago. We have different neighbors, now. They are a nice family and I feel like we have a good relationship with them. A few weeks ago, Jay, the father in the family next door, casually mentioned to my husband that they are planning to remove their privacy fence. It's in disrepair and is beginning to show signs of rot around the posts. He knows that we rely on the existence of their fence to keep our dog and children enclosed in our yard and wanted to find out when we would be able to install our own fencing so they can remove theirs. It so happens that we have enough leftover chain link to run the length of the southern portion of our yard. We just need to purchase a bit of concrete and a few more poles. Charlie came home from his talk with Jay feeling pretty good about the conversation and the project.

I listened to the news and tried to stay upbeat about it. I kept reminding myself that the Lord had already provided almost everything we needed for the project and what a blessing it was to have kind neighbors. After all, they could have simply removed the fence without any warning. But, in my heart, I was upset. I like the privacy fence. I like knowing that when I'm playing in the yard with my kids, no one is watching me or them. I like that I can let the baby run around in her diaper or that the girls can strip down to their birthday suits after playing in the pool or sprinkler and their modesty isn't compromised. I like sitting in a lawn chair in the shade, Bible in lap, feet propped up, knowing that I can pray aloud and no one is listening or watching me spend time with my Lord. I guess I felt like something was being stolen from me and my family. A sense of solitude or something.

It's been bugging me for a couple of weeks. Off and on, I would think about it and stew about it. Then, yesterday, Ashley, our neighbors' eleven-year-old daughter, came by to play with the girls. She was a welcome sight because I needed to finish up dinner and I knew she could keep an extra eye on the girls while I ducked into the kitchen to get things ready. She came into the kitchen for a drink of water and said, "It's going to be cool when we put the new fence up. Then, I can see you guys all the time instead of having to come all the way around the house to see what you are doing." In my head, I thought, "Oh great, here we go. Thanks for the reminder, Ashley." She continued, "It's really fun over here, not like at my house. You guys are always talking about Jesus and stuff and you guys really, really like Him."

Whoa. I had totally missed what God was doing. It hit me right between my eyes like a big, fat, spiritual two-by-four. God wasn't taking away my privacy. He never wanted my life to be private at all. He is removing a wall that is keeping others from seeing how He works in our family. He is giving our neighbors a front row seat to see the most amazing show on earth: our family poured out for Jesus. Oh sure, He still expects modesty and decorum from us, but we should be living in such a way that it doesn't matter whether we're in plain view or hidden--He is still glorified. The thing is, I wanted that privacy so badly. I wanted a break from the world and from it's inquisitive stares and questions. I wanted a place we could retreat to as a family. But, God wants me to invite others into our home and our backyard. He wants to put His people on display and say, "Look, world! This is how I take care of My people. This is how I show my love. This is how you, too, can walk through this life in peace and truth." In Acts 1:8 Jesus commands us, when we receive the Holy Spirit, to be His witnesses throughout the earth. It isn't an option. We are compelled by His love for us and our love for Him and as an act of worship to be His witnesses. So, when He gives us a wide open door or a torn down fence, it's our privilege to be the arms and feet and hands and face and heart of Christ to whoever is on the other side. We can't keep Christ private! We can't keep what He is doing behind closed doors and tall walls and shadowy fences because those things make us feel safe and secure. Our world and our country and our city and even our neighbors are literally dying to know the character of the One who can save.

So, later this month, we'll be tearing down a fence. Pray for us as we walk out our life in the sight of others. May it glorify our sweet Savior. And, may it give us the courage to tear down other "fences" that might be keeping others from knowing Him.

Thank You, God, for tearing down this fence. I pray that You will be glorified. Help me to remember why You want our lives to be laid bare for others to see. Give me a heart that wants what You want. In Jesus' name. Amen.

When Mommy Is Sick...Part Two

When Mommy is sick...

My children tenderly comb my hair and fetch me Kleenexes for my boogies.
My husband takes a two hour lunch to help me with the children.
My doctor listens sympathetically and understands how hard it is to even be in his office as a mother of three.
My children seem to understand that I can't do everything I usually do and settle happily for less.
My husband washes dishes and cleans up toys, mows the grass and makes dinner, folds laundry and runs the vacuum...without having to be asked or told how to do it.
My doctor orders me to bed for 24 hours and mercifully orders meds that will help me get well.
My children think it's fun to stay in jammies all day long and eat cereal for dinner.
My husband still tells me I'm wonderful even though I'm still wearing last night's PJ's and haven't combed my hair.
My doctor tells me that it's okay to take care of myself and ask someone else to take care of the children...and it makes me want to cry with relief.

My Saviour picks me up and holds me close, whispering His promises of salvation and healing and restoration to my heart.
My God is strong and a Mighty Physician.
My Comforter wraps me in grace and truth and shields me from the world so I can truly rest.
My God brings to mind other mothers who have no help and I ask God to help them.
My God reminds me of my sisters in Christ who I know are praying for me.

My God tells me He loves me and this too, shall pass...but not before He shows Himself strong on my behalf.

Thanks You, God for being so strong right now. Thank You for taking care of my children today, for giving them a place to go so I could rest physically, mentally and spiritually. Thank You for my husband, who went to his boss and demanded time to take care of me. Thank You for giving him a heart to love me like You do. Thank You for showing me all that You are doing in and through others. I love You. Amen.

When Mommy Is Sick...

When Mommy is sick...

I still get out of bed, though not at my usual 6:15 AM.
I still make breakfast, even if it is sugared cereal, grape juice or Pop-Tarts.
Everyone still gets dressed, but they usually get to wear anything they want--including last year's ballet tights and their favorite Christmas sweater.
I still do the dishes, but with my head resting on the counter above the sink.
I still do the laundry. But, no ironing.
I still read books, but they can't be too long and my eyes close in between pages.
We still play outside, but I sit in a lawn chair, wrapped in a blanket in the shade of our tree.
I still braid my girls' hair, though it isn't very neat or pretty.
I still make lunch. Spagettio's. Sigh...
I still put everyone down for a nap. And then I take one, too--Hallelujah!
I still answer the phone, though my voice is unrecognizable.
I still make a "To-Do" list, but it's much, much shorter.
I still referee arguments, but my patience is very thin.
I still hold crying children, but I want to cry, too.
I still remember vitamins, but not until later in the day.

We still pray before each meal, but I'm silently begging God for healing.
We still read Bible lessons, but I cringe when it's about enduring.
I still listen to my children's questions about God, and know that I have some big ones today, too.
We still pray for Daddy, but today I know he is praying me through.

We still praise the Lord for the wonderful day, and I praise Him for His grace that is wonderfully, mercifully carrying me through...

Because He still loves me.