Letters to Little: A Series on Friendship

My Saturday mornings – truthfully all of my mornings – look much differently now that I’m a mom. Gone are the days where sleeping in was an option, going for a run in the stillness of the morning was possible, or sitting at our farmhouse table with my Bible and journal for an unlimited amount of time.  Sleeping in is now making it to 6 or 7am. Going for a run now involves breastfeeding a baby, getting a stroller, dog, baby and myself out the door before it gets unbearably hot, and “running” quickly turns into walking because I inevitably wet my pants when I try to run. **Do your Kegels ladies, do your kegels!** I still get the gift of sitting down to write over coffee every now and then, like this morning. It isn’t as quiet, but it is just as beautiful.

This morning Sammy is playing on his mat. He’s starting to learn that his hand is connected to his body – and that he can hit things with it. He is no longer punching himself in the face and looking surprised. He still looks surprised when he connects his fist to the toys hanging over him, but he loves the sounds they make and keeps swinging. Mittens cover his little hands (because he keeps scratching his face) making him look like a little boxer. He’s worn himself out and is fighting falling asleep, which is adorable until he starts to cry. He’s rocking a new onesie from his Aunt Kaelin. On the front in bold font reads “Fearfully and Wonderfully Made.” Yes you are. I think to myself as I pick him up, settle him down into his sleeper and rock him with my foot as I sit back down to my computer.

I think about his sweet self and how he’s becoming more expressive of his personality. I am so excited to learn who he is and how he processes and connects with the world around him. I pray about the kind of man he will one day be, and I hope that he will make choices in divine wisdom and not out of his own logic all the days of his life. In my heart of hearts, I want him to keep the innocence and faith of a child for as long as possible – I want him to look at the world much like he does now, with a sense of wonder and curiosity. I don’t want him to remain in a place of immaturity – I want him to grow – but in a world where so many kids have to become adults much sooner than they ever should, I want so badly for my son to have a joyful childhood.  A deep part of my mother’s heart wants for him to have ridiculously awesome, Christ-centered, honest and loving friendships in which he can be himself without fear.

This week has reminded me of how important friendship is – how much we value friendship and meaningful connection as human beings. It isn’t vital to survival, but I do believe that we were wired for relationship. While there is a void in the core of who we are that can only be completely satisfied by God Himself, I think there’s a deep longing in the human soul to be seen, genuinely seen, and to be loved in that exposure by others. How we interact within friendship reveals so much about who we are, what we fear, and where our hope lies. How we handle hurts and conflict within those friendships says that much more.

I think about a dear friend of mine who had a challenging week in the world of friendship. She is one of the most passionate, warm, loving, and animated women I know, and yet this week she believed the lie that there was something wrong with the friendship she had to offer others. I witnessed a woman who has so much to offer believe that she had nothing valuable to give – and while I wanted to be quick to encourage her with truth, I had to check in with myself for a moment. I, too, have felt and believed the exact same lies.  

I think about the wedding shower that is being hosted at my house this afternoon – how I have a thousand things left to do before guests begin to arrive – and how I had to remind my very stressed out self this morning that this shower is about a dear friend and her upcoming marriage. It’s not about how clean my house is, how cute the decorations are, how tasty the food is or how Pinteresty it looks. It’s not about keeping Moe’s hair off the newly cleaned furniture, or if the nursery looks pristine, or even if my cluttered desk in the kitchen is organized…it’s not about what my friends think of me when they are guests in my home. It’s about celebrating an upcoming marriage – the picture God gives the world to say, “This is what the Gospel is like…This is what My love for you is like..” I know that. I’ve known it all along, and yet this fear of man creeps in so very slyly.

This belief that I have to live up to a certain set of expectations in order to be of any value, in order to be worth the pursuit or maintenance of a friendship, is one of the most detrimental weapons against a healthy relationship. When it is self-imposed, like mine has been this weekend, then it is a lie that must be quickly thwarted before the gracious throne of the Father in truth. It’s a heart issue, something that must be uprooted while truth is replanted in the soil of our souls – it cannot come from another’s constant validation but from believing God’s Word concerning our identity. However, when this mindset is imposed upon you by another – when who you are is never good enough – it’s another beast entirely.

It has taken me a very long time to begin to learn what really matters in a friendship – those things that separate a genuine friend from an unsafe one. I will forever be learning how to be humble and teachable within the context of friendships –how to handle conflict Biblically, how to fight courageously for unity and reconciliation, for peace and a safe place in which vulnerability can exist. I will forever be learning to let some friendships go as well – to step back, to grieve, and to choose healthy boundaries.

I may constantly battle the lies that come with the struggle of perfectionism and anxiety, especially in the context of friendship. However, I am so thankful for the core women God has placed in my life as intimate friends – those women that can call me out gently and call me up candidly. I’m thankful for the new friendships we are making as a family in this season of parenthood – for the mothers and older women whose wisdom has brought a sense of normalcy, hope and humor in these sleep-deprived, sometimes discouraging days. Most of all, I’m thankful for the friendship of Jesus – for the constant, open invitation to come before him with all that I’m carrying and take a break at His feet. Of all the friends that Samuel makes in his life, I hope he cherishes that perfect Friend above all.

I’ve never done a “series” of posts on a topic before, but I’ve been enjoying writing “Letters to Little” in my personal life and sharing a few here on the blog. The next few posts will be “letters” centered around friendship, so I hope you enjoy them!

all the love and crisp fall air from music city,

a

Sammy loves his friend Fox 

Game Day with his Aunt Lauren 

Samuel's Birth Story

It’s taken me nearly six weeks to sit down and write Samuel’s birth story, but I figured I would try to carve out a few precious moments this morning to remember his entrance into the world over a cup of much needed coffee.

Samuel was due on July 13^th – key word “was.” I had been having very irregular, sporadic contractions and Braxton Hicks throughout the last few weeks of my pregnancy, but to my chagrin nothing was happening on July 13^th. I went to work like normal, waddling around as I tried to get everything ready for my pending maternity leave. I went to my prenatal appointment, hoping it would be my last one and I could sweet talk the midwife into stripping my membranes (a method that can induce labor by separating the bag of amniotic fluid from the cervix…about as comfortable as it sounds). Linda, my midwife for the appointment, agreed to check me and strip my membranes if I was dilated enough. I was expecting to be completely closed and nowhere close to going into labor, so I had been hesitant to get checked, but with the chance of inducing labor ahead of me, I agreed. Surprisingly, I was already 3cm, 70% effaced and baby was at a -3 station (low).  In one of the most awkward and hilarious moments of my life, Linda stripped my membranes and told me we would know within 24 hours if it worked. I went back to work, praying to go into labor, and started contracting. I contracted for about 20 hours and called my mom Tuesday morning after my contractions had remained about 7 minutes apart for a few hours. Unsure of whether they should make the drive or not, I didn’t want my parents to miss his birth, so they hopped in the car and headed to Nashville.  I called my supervisor at work and started my maternity leave in case I was in genuine labor. Two hours later, my contractions stopped completely.

Are you kidding? I wanted to cry. I think I did cry a few times.  My parents were on their way, I was off of work and all for a false alarm?! It could be another week – a week of maternity leave that I didn’t get to spend with him as an infant. To say I was discouraged would be a massive understatement. 

Mom and Dad arrived and Mom declared we were going to “walk that baby out.” I laughed, but was happy to have someone join me on my morning walks. Wednesday morning she nearly killed me as she sprinted and I waddled 2 miles – okay, maybe she was walking, but gosh it felt like a sprint! I had a few contractions but nothing promising, and again was feeling so discouraged that my parents had wasted a trip even though they didn’t care, they were happy to be in Nashville with Ray and I. We then got into the car and decided to go walk the mall and run a few errands. Dad decided to join us, and the three of us made a few laps around the Cool Springs mall. At some point in the mall, my contractions became strong and more frequent. As I was driving out of the parking lot, Mom made me pull over and monitor contractions from the passenger seat. We headed to Whole Foods and stocked up on some yummy snacks, and my contractions became more frequent and just as strong. I spent the evening bouncing on my birth ball and twisting into whatever position took pressure off of my back. My sweet husband applied counter pressure periodically, Mom made dinner and I put on what Dad would inevitably call an “inappropriate” sitcom to help distract me.

Around 7pm we called the midwife when my contractions were strong and 5-7 minutes apart, she said we could labor at home and call back when they were about 4 minutes apart. I took a warm shower and headed to bed to try to sleep – keyword “try.” Around 1am my contractions had spaced out a bit and I was hungry, so I decided to eat a snack – which I would regret in a few hours. By 2am, my contractions were strong and waking me up uttering curse words. By 3am, Ray was also up with me as I tried to get into whatever position alleviated my back labor. We (really Ray making me) decided to walk – so we paced in the driveway, stopping often for me to lean on him and sway. What was more bizarre than us walking in our driveway at 3:30am, was a random guy walking down the street talking on the phone at 3:30 am – I’m sure he thought we were crazy.

My contractions went from 6 minutes apart to 3 minutes or less – so much for 4 minutes! We called the midwife and headed to the hospital – my sweet husband driving as “gently” as possible and me yelling at him to screw being gentle and get me to the hospital! We pulled up to the ER entrance to see one valet working his butt off, while his coworker sat in the office bobbing his head to whatever was playing through his head phones. We got his attention and Ray rolled me into the ER, where this poor male nurse had to ask a very cranky, very pregnant me a bunch of questions like “What are the last 4 numbers of your social?” (which by the way, is incredibly hard to remember when your uterus is evicting a child). We were admitted around 4am and only 5cm dilated. Though baby had dropped a good amount since my appointment on Monday, I remember thinking “I’m only halfway?!”

Our sweet doula Lindsey arrived around 5am, right after my parents got to the hospital as well. We sent poor Dad to wait in the hallway and got into the labor tub. Surrounded with Ray, my mom, Lindsey and a sweet midwife student named Brittany, I labored in the tub for a good while until the heat of the water caused me to feel dizzy. After laboring in the tub, I was 8 cm and entering transition – the part of labor that scared me the most. I had made a joke about an epidural in the tub, but that epidural started to sound really, really good hitting transition. “This is the shortest part though,” I told myself, “only 30 minutes to 2 hours of this.”  I then apologized to everyone in the room preemptively – “I’m sorry if I lose my shit.” They laughed at me, but I was serious.

2 hours my butt I thought about 3 hours later. I had stalled with a small “lip” of my cervix between me being complete and ready to push. All I wanted to do was lay down and nap – someone asked me what I wanted and I said, “An epidural and a nap!” They laughed saying, “At least she has her sense of humor still.” I was kind of serious though. Lying down was so uncomfortable, but moving seemed impossible. We tried everything though – it was like a circus in that room. They had me pulling on labor bars, but I was too short. They had me sitting on a birth stool, which was the most ungodly, uncomfortable, torturous thing ever invented for back labor. They had me standing over the bed, hugging my birth ball, while Brittany tried to spread my legs apart more. I wanted to kick her, but my leg muscles started cramping so badly. I crawled back into bed and inhaled my nitrous like there was no tomorrow. The nitrous made my reflux ten times worse (if that was possible – remember that 1am snack I mentioned regretting? It threatened to come back up the entire labor), along with making me very nauseated and dizzy, so I couldn’t use it with every contraction. Looking back, I think the nitrous gave me something to focus on – it was a distraction, but it didn’t help much with the pain. I kept asking “How much longer?!” even though I knew the answer was going to be, “Let’s just focus on one contraction at a time.”   I later told my midwife Bethany that answer ticked me off but it was the answer I would’ve given my patients if they were in labor.  I remember hearing whispers and I knew that I had stalled. My water had yet to break, but Samuel had a few variable decelerations in labor and I knew breaking my water wasn’t ideal – he was so low and depending on the position of his umbilical cord, removing that cushion of water could stress him further. I remember the midwife giving me an hour to see if I would progress before breaking my water. I remember opening my eyes to Lindsey sweetly suggesting trying to get out of bed – she phrased it in a way that sounded as though I had a choice, but her look of concern told me to get the hell out of bed.

Of all places, they put me on the toilet with my feet on a stool. After a few contractions I was completely dilated and starting to push involuntarily.  They helped me back to bed and we pushed for about an hour I think, that’s what they told me at least. My elbows rested on the head of the bed as I sat on my knees – each contraction sending me into a deeper squat with a loud moan. I could’ve sworn everyone on L&D could hear me groaning like a cow – I thought I was scaring every woman in labor with my noise but I couldn’t help it – it felt natural and helped me breathe. Ray stayed by my head, swapping out ice cold rags to put on my neck, puke bag in hand in case I needed it, and fingernails embedded in his hands. When my breathing would start to get out of control with the pain, he would breathe with me and I could match his tone. I remember looking over at my nurse asking, “Susan, why did I not get the epidural?!” Again, there was more laughter but I was kind of serious!

If you take a birth class, they’ll most likely talk to you about the “ring of fire.” It’s in reference to the incredible burning sensation you get when baby starts to crown…it’s also an understatement. My bag of water presented first, and they said, “Alex, reach down here – feel this? It’s your water.” I yanked my hand back, quite grossed out, and said, “Get him out!” I remember thinking, “I need to change my breathing” – recalling from our birth class the short, shallow breaths that would keep a feather in the air – but it never translated physically for me. I remember hearing Bethany tell me they were about to deliver the head and she may ask me to stop pushing for a bit. Thankfully, she never told me to stop, because there was no stopping. Samuel’s head crowned, bursting my water, and shooting him out. There was an instant relief of pain that flooded my body, and then there was a lot of confusion as they handed this slippery little human to me from in between my legs. They helped me reposition with Samuel on my stomach, where he promptly pooped (thanks buddy).  Mom cut the cord as Ray held my hand and teared up – taking in his little boy. They cleaned him up and started to fix me up. That nitrous was not fun in labor, but it was my best friend in recovery. Ray laughs at me because I was high as a kite. Dad was finally allowed back in the room from his banishment, and I remember looking over and seeing Dad and Ray both tearing up over Samuel. My repair took nearly 45 minutes before I got to hold Sam again and breastfeed. Lindsey had taken lots of pictures and helped with breastfeeding before she headed back home. God bless her, she massaged my back and applied pressure to my hips for the entire 7 ½ hours I was laboring in the hospital. There was no way I could’ve done it without her, Ray, my mom and the rest of our healthcare team. Everyone was so supportive and unified behind our goal to have a healthy and natural labor.

The rest of our stay in the hospital and our first two weeks home felt incredibly surreal. Recovery in the hospital was relatively easy and fast – I walked to the postpartum unit and frequently during my stay to help ward off worsening soreness. Outside of that, I had no time to process the fact that my body had just gone through something incredible, that I had just had a baby. Everyone kept telling me I was a champ – natural childbirth? You go girl! But that’s the last thing I felt like physically. I felt like a grenade had exploded between my legs and every time Sam needed to eat I wanted to cry. I felt weak and broken. I was exhausted, frustrated, and in constant pain. If I’m being honest, there were times when I snapped at Samuel and wanted to shake him – not shaken baby – but like someone would grab you by the shoulders and say, “Get it together man!” Then I would cry in guilt – I don’t want to be a mother or wife who yells, and yet I was snapping at my husband and baby.  I would burst into tears in the middle of the night – Sam would be crying and I would be crying. I just wanted to feed my baby normally and painlessly, and he just wanted to eat but couldn’t do that well. Still, I remember thinking there was incredible grace – my bottom hurt, his bottom hurt too from a circumcision and then diaper rash. I was frustrated and so was he – I didn’t know what I was doing and neither did he. We were in the same boat, the two of us, and that realization helped me care for him with compassion in difficult moments. The only difference was that I was in constant demand and he was (still is) in constant need. I loved him – but in the very deliberate and determined way that comes from meeting his needs the best way I could, even though it meant putting my needs to the side temporarily. It took us learning to exist together when everyone left – when Ray went back to work, when all the family left – for me to really begin to feel strongly bonded and connected to him. And it has not been easy – a persistent, awful diaper rash, two lip tie revisions and a tongue tie revision, oversupply issues, multiple medical appointments and calls to lactation consultants, we are still learning how to do basic things, like how to suck, how to open his mouth wide, how to latch, etc.  In the midst of everything, God has been so faithful and I am so thankful. Where he would be expected to be “failure to thrive,” because of my oversupply of milk, he has continued to gain weight and grow on curve! Ray and I are well aware that many families and couples would gladly trade the late nights, the episodes of inconsolable crying/screaming, the pain and stress for the sweet presence of a little one – the sweet presence that I never want to take for granted. 

There are times I grieve my pre-baby life – my pre-baby body, productivity, and social/married life – which I think is normal and healthy, but I wouldn’t exchange this season for a thing. Motherhood has been the most challenging experience of my life. My body has been broken, and yet I feel stronger and more beautiful than ever. My spirit has been tested and I have felt so discouraged, but because of God’s faithfulness my family is not defeated. I have learned the depths of my stubbornness, selfishness, lack of control and pride – along with the depth of my need of the Lord, the love and sacrifice in the Gospel, and grace so ever sufficient for my every weakness. My heart, in all of its fullness, is now outside of my body and it rests on a chunky little man named Samuel Grey Shaw. 

Letters to Little: Quiet Moments

My goodness! You are one month old! This time a month ago I was in transition with you – it was the longest and hardest part of labor – praise Jesus you came out when you did!

Right now you are sleeping in your monkey sleeper – which you spend a lot of time in because I can take it from room to room while I’m doing chores. You also make the greatest facial expressions, love eating, swinging on the porch swing and being outside in general. You’ve been more alert lately, letting Daddy and I see your big blue eyes. We love playing with you, but you would rather eat and sleep. Daddy is on a long run, Moe went back to sleep, and I am sitting at our table, coveted coffee mug in hand, really thankful for our little family and this quiet moment.

One thing I struggle with is being still and quiet before the Lord. In truth, I talk way too much and am a poor listener. I’m always fearful of being alone and quiet with Jesus. What if He doesn’t show up? What if He tells me things I don’t want to, or am not ready to hear? What if I’m exposed? These are irrational fears rooted in unbelief. These are irrational fears rooted in unbelief. The truth is that God is always present. He already knows and sees all of me, and His words bring life. I know this, but I still struggle with pride and doubting God’s character…and I avoid Him. I avoid quiet moments and connecting with Him.

In John 15 & 16, Jesus tells His disciples quite a bit of hard stuff…and He tells them why:

(16:1) “I have said these things to you to keep you from falling away.”

(16:4) “But I have said these things to you, that when their hour comes you may remember that I told them to you.”

(16:33) “I have said these things to you so that in me you may have peace…”

Jesus also tells his disciples in John 16:12, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.”

He only tells them what they can bear to hear in that moment. While He said some difficult things that they didn’t fully understand, His heart was never to overwhelm them but to prepare, equip and encourage them.

Jesus really put His finger on my fearful and prideful heart as I read these last few chapters in John. Jesus calls me to “abide” – to remain with and in Him, to spend time with Him, to know Him, to ask of Him, to be one with Him and the Father. When I avoid Him, when I refuse to still myself before Him and listen, I do the opposite. I am more anxious, more stressed, and more foolish. I return to things that I know; things that are natural, easy and familiar. I make decisions out of fear and my own human wisdom, which isn’t wisdom at all. Like Peter did in John 21, I go back to “fishing” when Jesus has called me to follow Him (John 21:3; 19).

The reality is that I cannot follow Jesus unless I know Him – and I cannot get to know Him unless I engage and spend time with Him. God’s heart is not to overwhelm me with things I cannot bear to hear. He knows my limits better than I do, so when He does bring a challenging or convicting word to me, I have to trust His character, timing and purpose. When He comes with correction or conviction, I need to ask for the humility to receive it, the grace to repent and the faith to follow. His heart is for me – like it is for you – and my prayer is that you would know God’s voice and follow Him all the days of your life…and that you would see that modeled by your Daddy and me.

We love you so much buddy.

-mom

PS: you are officially a chunky monkey :)

Letters to Little - The Way It Ends

John 11:4 – But when Jesus heard it he said, ‘This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.’”

Happy three weeks my little munchkin! You are getting sooo big! You gained almost a pound in your first two weeks and continue to fill out your skin. I am loving your baby rolls but missing how tiny you were already. Last night you slept for 4-4 ½ hours at a time – which means I got to sleep, too! You have the best facial expressions and you love to make noises. You also love your pacifier and the porch swing – still not a fan of the car seat though!

I would be lying if I told you that these past three weeks have been easy and perfectly wonderful. They have been wonderful, but also painful, challenging, and disheartening for all of us at times. You won’t remember, but you’ve been frustrated, too.

At one point, when I was feeling so very discouraged, Jesus reminded me of his friend Lazarus. In John 11, Lazarus’ sisters (Mary and Martha) send word to Jesus that his good buddy (whom Jesus loved) is very sick and needs Jesus. What does Jesus do? You would think that He would rush to His friend’s side and heal him right away – that would be the most loving thing to do, right? But Jesus doesn’t do that. Jesus says, “This doesn’t end in death; God’s going to get the glory” and He stays put. He doesn’t go. And Lazarus dies…and then Jesus decides to go to him….

….What the heck Jesus?

But that’s not the end of the story. Jesus ends up raising Lazarus from the dead!

Time out.

Wouldn’t it have been easier for everyone if Jesus had just gone first thing and healed Lazarus? Or better yet, if He had never allowed Lazarus to get sick to begin with?

You see, God’s ways are not our ways. His thoughts are not our thoughts. He is so much smarter and greater than we are. The reality is that Jesus could have healed Lazarus or prevented his illness entirely, but because He didn’t a few things happened:

1.       Lazarus encountered Jesus in a way that he never would have otherwise. He was given a powerful testimony.

2.       Jesus demonstrated His authority over death – not just to Lazarus and His disciples, but to the Jews who were present and to us as well. They encountered Jesus in a way they never would have otherwise and left with a powerful testimony. Much like them, we get to encounter Jesus in that same way when we read this story.

3.       God got the glory – and where God is glorified, therein lies our good. God’s glory=our good…even (especially) when it doesn’t look like what we would have thought.

So could Jesus miraculously fix all of our breastfeeding struggles – heal your tongue and lip ties, take away my pain, regulate my milk supply to meet your needs? Could He balance out your clotting factors so you don’t bleed so easily? Heal that pesky, persistent diaper rash? Yes, yes He could. He could in an instant. Has He? No. But has He been gracious, and faithful, and present, and healing? Yes, yes He has. In fact, you would be expected to be “failure to thrive” and yet you are gaining weight because of an oversupply of milk! God is so faithful to us and what seems hopeless – what appears will end in death – Jesus says, “I got this. God will get the glory.”

Because of the Gospel we can confidently claim, “This will not end in death. God will be glorified.” Even physical death is not our end. We have the hope of life forever with Jesus – whole, complete, perfectly restored life.

Satan would love for us to wallow in despair – to allow confusion, grief, frustration and anger to prevent us from seeking God and pressing into Him during difficult seasons. He loves to whisper lies to us, like “God doesn’t care.” “This is hopeless.” “Change or healing isn’t possible.” “Just give up.” Etc.

BUT

Jesus had declared, “This does not end in death.” He has won the victory by rising from the dead. He has the authority, the power, the final say over death and everything else. Where Satan can only steal, kill, destroy, and lie, Jesus always gives and brings full and abundant life (John 10:10).

There will be times in your life when Jesus will “wait” or “stay” like He did in Lazarus’ case. Other times when He will ask you to surrender to Him in trust, even when it seems like that is the death of a dream or promise – He did this with Abraham when He asked Abraham to sacrifice his promised son Isaac – but I promise He knows best and He is faithful to His promises. If He asks you to lay something down on the altar (which He will at some point), know that there is life abundant on the other side of surrender.

My prayer for you – as you squirm on my chest right now – is that you always trust Jesus and walk in obedience to Him, especially in tough seasons. That you would declare, as Jesus did, “This – whatever it might be- does not end in death. Jesus, get the glory.”

I love you my bug – always.

-          Mom 

The Kingdom

I’m no theologian or Bible scholar – so what I’m about to write comes from my thoughts as I’ve been reading through the book of Luke in my quiet time. My hope is that the Lord speaks through me, giving me wisdom that comes from Him and not from me –otherwise this is pretty pointless.

If you’ve opened your Facebook newsfeed in recent days, there’s almost a 100% guarantee that it has been overwhelmed with posts about the SCOTUS ruling on same-sex marriage or rainbow colored profile pictures, the confederate flag or attacks on black churches in the south or something concerning current racial tensions, and a myriad of blogs expressing their opinions on the state of our country.  Some celebrate, some call for continued reform, while others mourn. In the midst of all of this, the division in the church and among Christians on these issues has been pervasive, which has led this first-time-mom-to-be to ask some hard questions on how I’ll explain and answer Samuel’s questions one day. How do I teach my son to love God’s Word, to prize it as truth that does not change, to love the Lord and to love others as Jesus did? How do I do that when the definition of love I see in Scripture is much different than the definition of love used in our culture? How do I teach him to discern biblically sound and humble teachers to listen to from those who look more like wolves in sheep’s clothing? How do I do all of that without alienating him from the body of Christ – which has always been God’s Plan A in exemplifying the Gospel to the world – when it seems more divided and broken than ever?

Personally, one of the most frustrating things that I have observed in recent weeks has been this outrage and shock from Christians that our nation’s government isn’t making laws consistent with our biblical beliefs. In my opinion, the expectation that those who do not claim Christ would make biblically-based decisions, or ones that line up with Christ’s teachings, is unrealistic – I feel like Paul is pretty clear about this in Romans 1-2. It doesn’t mean you have to agree with the decision, lifestyle, or action of those who believe something differently than you – but our response in these moments ought to be different than shock, outrage, and a beating with the Bible. Why? Because I don’t think the current responses of “tolerance” and “bible-beating” are effective nor Biblical. I could be wrong, but I think the key for a better response lies in understanding the Kingdom and our role in it differently than I have before.

The Kingdom has always been a difficult concept for me to grasp as a believer, to be completely honest. It’s always seemed abstract – something you read about in parables but it isn’t here yet fully, and trying to flush it out practically is another struggle entirely. However, as I’ve been diving into the Gospels, I’m beginning to see that the Kingdom – while it is something we still look forward to in terms of Jesus’ return – is something that is already in our midst. The Kingdom is near – it can be sought and found – and it isn’t something that God is trying to hide from us. On the contrary, Luke 12:32 encourages us not to fear – “for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” As a Christ-follower, my citizenship is now found in the Kingdom – and with any kingdom or nation, there are an authority, a people, and an order/way of life/law. There are also certain rights and responsibilities given to you not based on performance but on your position as a citizen. When Jesus says, “the kingdom of God is like…” He’s showing us a greater understanding of who He is as King, who we are as His people, and what life is like under His reign…even in the midst of another physical form of government.

For the Jews, they expected Messiah to come as a political savior – to rescue them from Roman rule and be reestablished as a nation. They wanted so badly to be politically free and independent – that they missed the complete freedom Jesus was offering to them. They missed the Kingdom. I’m wondering if we are today as well.

The more I read and understand Jesus’ words, the more upside down the Kingdom sounds. Love those who hate me? Bless those who persecute me? Forgive those who hurt me? Give all that I have? Don’t seek to preserve my own neck? Leave 99 and go after the lost 1? Welcome the poor, needy, hungry, widows, orphans into my home – meet their needs even when my resources seem limited – and don’t worry?  Yes. Why? Because when I love, bless, forgive, give, seek, welcome, trust, and depend then I am free regardless of my physical circumstances.

The more I look at Jesus’ life, the more I find that He was not only able to submit to the governing authorities (despite being God), but He was also able to fulfill the Law without agreeing with them. How many times did the Pharisees accuse the man of breaking the Sabbath? How many times did they seek and watch and test Him, to catch Him in the act of breaking their laws? And how many times did Jesus speak the truth in love, reveal the purpose and intention of the Law, and perfectly fulfill it? How many times did Jesus heal, act mercifully, love, forgive, and extend peace to “sinners” and those considered “unclean” without calling them to “go and sin no more”? How many times does He call us to do the same?

Jesus understood the Kingdom. He understood that God is working and moving; that His purposes and plans will not be thwarted – He understood that God sees the end from the beginning and nothing catches Him by surprise. He also understood His role in the Kingdom – Philippians 2:1-11 as an example. He understood that you can be subject to governing authorities, to walk in respect and love and honor, without confusing where your true citizenship lies (Matthew 17:24-27, 22:15-24,and Romans 13 as an example). He understood the importance of obeying His Father in the everyday – rather than pointing out everyone else’s sin, the ridiculousness of their self-righteousness, or all of the flaws and poor decisions made by the government – He met people where they were, taught them with great compassion, patience, and truth without contempt, touched the unclean, communed with the poor, the dirty, the sick, the marginalized. Not once did he engage with someone who was lost and fail to have compassion on them, to meet their needs practically and then call them to “go and sin no more.” And when they refused, as some did, He didn’t chase after them beating them upside the head with arguments or reasons why they should follow Him. He was grieved deeply for them, He continued to love them, but He also let them walk away without changing His call.  Therein lays the balance that I fear I have missed, and maybe we have missed collectively as the Church. I can love someone and not condone their behavior. I can respect authority without compromising my conviction or losing sight of where my allegiance lies. I can meet others where they are, love them as Christ loved them, and invite them to see how Jesus is changing my life – not as someone who is perfect or has it altogether – but I can do that without strings attached, and maybe they’ll catch a glimpse of the Kingdom, of Jesus, and want more. Maybe not. 

Jesus shares many parables about a master leaving his servants in charge of his house – emphasizing the importance of the servants being ready for their master’s unknown time/date of return. Will he find them doing what they’ve been commanded to do? Will he find them asleep, unprepared, or worse – abusing one another and acting shamefully towards one another? Or in a current context – will Jesus return finding His Bride doing what we’ve been commanded to do as citizens of the Kingdom? Will He find us walking in obedience, free despite our physical circumstances, and welcoming others into the Kingdom in truth and love? Or will He find us apathetic, complacent, or worse – abusing one another and beating the hell out of everyone who doesn’t see things “our way”?

Jesus, open our eyes to see the Kingdom – create in us servants that you find following your heart all the days of our lives. 

Letters to Little: Asking

Luke 11:1-12

In this passage of Scripture, Jesus takes some time to teach His disciples how to pray because they asked Him. He teaches them how to pray and tells them a story about a man who was so persistent in asking his neighbor for help in the middle of the night that his neighbor finally got out of bed and helped him. Jesus then encourages His disciples to ask, seek and knock…promising that they would then receive, find and be opened to: “For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.” Luke 11:10 (ESV)

Jesus doesn’t just stop there – He challenges His disciples even further by comparing imperfect, earthly fathers who know how to give good gifts to their children, to God who is a perfect Heavenly Father – How much more does God know how to give good gifts to His children?

If I’m being honest, I worry a lot and ask very little. I worry a lot and seek very little. I worry and allow myself to become so paralyzed with fear that I might stand at the door but never knock. Jesus is clear – worrying robs me of life and peace. It is fruitless and accomplishes nothing…BUT coming to my perfect Heavenly Father and asking Him for what I need, seeking Him, and knocking at His door – trusting that He will not only answer me and let me in, but that He knows how to give me exactly what I need – that is much more life-giving.

What keeps me from asking the Lord for what I need…or even for what I want?

1.       Pride: it’s hard to admit my needs and surrender control. It’s hard to admit that I am limited. It’s hard for me to depend completely on the Lord to show up.

2.       Fear: what if God doesn’t answer? What if I’m really vulnerable and He isn’t safe with my heart? What if I’m brave enough to ask but He doesn’t come through?

3.       Complacency: This goes along with pride, but often I’m so comfortable that I don’t even think to ask for things! I settle and focus on what “my resources” can provide or how I can meet my own needs.

These are just a few reasons for me, but all of them are rooted in lies. I do need God. I am limited. I am not in control. “My resources” are not mine –all that I am and have is His. God is always a safe place. He knows everything about me and yet He loves me perfectly still. I don’t have to fear rejection like Satan would like for me to believe. God loves me and invites me to come to Him. He delights in meeting my needs. He delights in giving me the desires of my heart.

The Bible says to “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4 – I don’t think this means “delight yourself in the Lord SO THAT He will give you what you want..” I think it means that as we delight ourselves in the Lord, our hearts become more like His heart and our desires more like His desires… they line up with His will. Psalm 34:10 says, “The young lions suffer want and hunger; but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.” And Paul reminds us in Philippians 3:19 that “…God will supply every need of yours according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”

Now if we’re not careful, we can start to see God like we see Santa Clause. That’s not who God is. We don’t just get to bang on heaven’s door repeatedly, ask for a super nice car just because we feel entitled to one, and then question His faithfulness when we don’t get what we want. Equally so, we don’t get to think “If I’m a really good person, God will give me XYZ….” God’s faithfulness in meeting our needs is not dependent upon our performance and legalism, but on His faithfulness, grace and character. He rewards our obedience, yes! However, obedience should always come from an overflow of love and thankfulness, acknowledging that God’s ways are best even when we don’t feel like they are, and not out of impure motives to manipulate God’s hand.

Is it wrong to ask for a nice car or nice things? I don’t think so. Is it wrong to have nice things or expensive things? Not at all. I think the more important question is why we want those things – is it to make much of ourselves or to make much of God? I also think it’s important to remember that in God’s kingdom – we are not owners but stewards – so all we have is His. The minute we start to think we are owners entitled to things, we lose sight of the Gospel. Sometimes God withholds things from us that we consider “good” because He knows us better than we do. He knows that that really nice car or fancy new house may get to our heads and cause us to stumble in pride. A guy named Agur prayed something like this in Proverbs 30 that I’ve always thought wise:

“And then he prayed, ‘God, I’m asking for two things before I die; don’t refuse me – Banish lies from my lips and liars from my presence. Give me enough food to live on, neither too much nor too little. If I’m too full, I might get independent, saying, ‘God? Who needs him?’ If I’m poor, I might steal and dishonor the name of my God.”- Proverbs 30:7-9 MSG

Jesus invites me to ask, to seek and to knock – He puts no limits on what I can ask for, seek for or knock for – and He promises that I will receive, find, and be invited in with an open door. So I need to ask, to seek, and to knock more – trusting that God’s heart towards me is one of a perfect Father towards His beloved daughter. Trusting that He will supply every need according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus, that I will lack no good thing, and that He is faithful even when His answers look different than how I thought they would look, because God sees the end from the beginning and He alone knows how to give me good gifts in His perfect timing and season.

 My hope for you is that you always know God’s heart towards you as His beloved son. Your dad and I will let you down – we’re nowhere close to perfect – but God never fails you. He is always faithful.

We love you. Come soon.

-mom 

Letters to Little: One of the biggest, well-meaning lies you may ever hear

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in our time of need.- Hebrews 4:15-16 (ESV)

But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. – 2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV

My sweet, ever-growing Little –

There will be times in your precious life where you will be lied to – and while I hope those times are few and far between, I know that those times will happen. You may be surprised when even well-meaning people who love you so much fail you in this way.

The truth is there is really only one person who is perfect, faithful, true and unfailing and that’s Jesus. It’s impossible for Him to lie because He is the Truth (John 14:6). In every good story, there is a hero and a villain – an enemy of all that is good. In all of our stories there is one hero – Jesus – and one enemy who is known as “the father of lies”. The good news is that Jesus has already kicked his butt – Satan has been defeated! – but he’s a pretty sore loser. You’ll find that the irritating thing about sore losers is they just can’t let some things go, and neither can he – so he still tries to tell us lies.

Some lies are pretty obvious, but others sound like they could be true. They tend to be the biggest of them all, because they sound good. One of the biggest lies from well-meaning people may sound something like this:

                                God will never give you more than you can handle.

It sounds nice, right? And it would seem like God was kind of a jerk if that’s a lie, right? But my sweet child, that is a lie straight from the pit of hell, and God is not a jerk. The truth is always better.

There will be times and seasons in your life that are really challenging. Your dad and I are in one of those seasons. They aren’t fun, but they aren’t bad either. Why? Because they strengthen our faith – they force us to look to Jesus and watch with expectation to see how He’ll show up. Those situations, the ones where if Jesus doesn’t show up we’re toast, are the ones that we can’t handle. If you’re anything like me, you’ll be fiercely independent and these situations will freak you out…but they’ll be the most defining moments of your life.

I hope that you learn, much quickly than I am, how to walk in complete dependence on the Lord. I also hope you see how Jesus is always faithful.

In the seasons that seem abundant and restful, He is faithful.

In the seasons that seem dark and overwhelming, He is faithful.

In the seasons that feel so heavy, where you wonder if you can keep going if you can keep going if one more thing gets added to your plate, He is faithful.

In the seasons that you feel alone, when Satan tries to lie to you, He is faithful.

He is faithful and He has given you His Word, which is full of reminders of His faithfulness. Your dad and I are really excited to read you some of the stories in His word, hopeful that you’ll want to read them on your own one day. You’ll hear about Abraham, Isaac, Joseph, Moses, Elijah, Esther, Job, David, Jeremiah, Hosea, Jesus, Peter, Paul and so many more. Men and women who were so messed up, but Jesus took their mess and redeemed them.  These “heroes of faith” were all placed in situations that they could not handle on their own…but God showed up and used them in mighty ways because they trusted in Him.

The best way I’ve found to recognize a lie and address it, is to know the truth. When I get into a tough spot and I’m tempted to question God’s faithfulness or His presence – when my feelings are fickle and deceiving – I need to claim truth:

God will never give me more than I can handle with His help.

God is my refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore, I won’t fear though the earth gives way… (Psalm 46:1-4)

God is able to meet all of my needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus. Phil 4:19

God is my perfect Father; He cannot give a bad gift. (Matthew 7: 11)

God sees me and sees all that concerns me. I can cast all of my cares upon Him, knowing that He cares for me. (1 Peter 5:7)

I can be strong and courageous, knowing that the Lord goes with me (He is present even when I can’t feel His presence) – He will never leave me nor forsake me. (Deuteronomy 31:6)

Jesus understands my every weakness, so when life gets hard I can come to Him without shame and find grace to help in my time of need. (Hebrews 4:15-16)

I can’t exhaust God’s grace, nor can I outrun or out-sin it. His grace is sufficient for me.

You may hear your momma say things like this out loud and often when she feels stressed, anxious or overwhelmed. You have a crazy mom who talks to herself often J Regardless, I hope you remember these truths and call them to mind in seasons of rest and in seasons that aren’t so restful.

You are so loved.

                -mom

PS: if you pop out looking like a pickle, I’m sorry J