Wherever you are, be all there.

            We sit in meetings and check our watches, our tweets, our texts, our calendar app, our to-do list.  At home we feel guilty for not being on the job; on the job we feel guilty for not being at home.  (Or for the stay-at-home mom, we feel guilty for being enslaved by the to-do list rather than playing with the children.  When you relinquish it to play in the yard, you feel tugged away by all the demands inside.)  During supper we think about the clean up, the night-time routine, the exhaustion, the things to do before crashing.  During breakfast we worry about getting to the next thing on time . . .  How often we miss the joy of simple conversation and laughter during supper, miss the chance to sing crazy songs in the car-ride, miss a moment God was trying to teach us something during that meeting, miss the chance to show that person Jesus.

            It was on the car ride after a hectic morning routine of waking the girls, feeding, clothing, brushing teeth, hurrying into the car, that it hit me – maybe not hit me for the first time but hit me harder . . .

            A friend in my church family went to Africa this summer and encountered a missionary who gave her this one line:  “Wherever you are, be all there.”  She brought the line back to me.  Much more succinct than I’ve ever said it, but I’ve been thinking it over for about six years now . . . “How can I be fully present where I am at all times?” 

            Jesus lived it.  On a mission, with purpose, often surrounded by crowds, but never in a hurry. 

            What hit me in the car was this:  “What if I only had one more month to live, but I still had to do all of my daily responsibilities (full-time mom, part-time ministry job) within that month?  What would I do differently than what I’m doing right now?”  Certainly, I wouldn’t want my girls remembering a mother who just rushed them out of bed, to breakfast, to car, to drop them off—all in one hurried blur.  If I still had to go to work and my elder child still had to go to her “school” (home school program 2 days a week)—in other words, if I still had to be away from them for several hours several days a week—with what would I want to leave in their precious little memories.  I would want them to remember a mother who woke them with a smile, who had kindness on her lips, who cooked them a yummy breakfast, and who encouraged them even if their bodies were still sleepy and minds foggy.  Love – that’s what I want them to remember.

            Practically speaking, then, how can I be fully present where I am at all times?  I haven’t mastered it yet, but here’s what I’m aiming for:

1. Slowing down where I can.  How?

-          Being realistic about what I can accomplish in a given period of time.  (Of course, this is my hardest one.  I’m forever the optimist.)

-          Not being too proud to receive help.  (God doesn’t call us to do family or ministry alone.  In fact, that’s the opposite of what God wants for us.)

-          Not being too proud to say “no” when I can’t do it all.  (Yes, for people-pleasers and performers, it’s a pride issue.)

2. Paying attention to the blessings in the moment.  (Learned this one from Ann Voskamp’s book One Thousand Gifts.  LOVE her blog too; she writes about this slowing down often.)  Naming the gifts.  (I’m on #899 – writing down thanks to God.)
   
   
3. Praying for spiritual eyes to see what’s most important—the one thing needed. 

-          “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “You are worried and upset about many things,  but few things are needed—or indeed only one.  Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41-42 NIV).

I have so far to go.  Tell me, how do you live this line – “Wherever you are, be all there”?  Don’t be shy.  Leave a comment for those of us who need it!

A Renewed Mind, Part 2

          The combined effect of Jesus and children has really messed up my life!  I like order and clarity.  I used to have a bit of that.  I remember a time not so long ago when I would put things where they go, and they would actually stay there until I moved them again.  I remember a time when my body would actually stay asleep past 5:30 a.m., when I would start doing something and actually finish it, when I would spend uninterrupted hours on the same task, when I would string together lots of little intellectual thoughts for seminary papers and churn out those papers one right after the other. 

            I’m thankful for that season . . . that spring season, planting time, when God turned over the soil of my life and used that season to prepare me for the next.  He’s so good like that.  Always going before us, forming us, preparing us.  Spring prepares for summer.  Summer prepares for fall. 

            It was in that season that He gently showed me that I had been “content” (complacent) with my version of Christianity.  I had been content with the idea of lots and lots of pockets of luxury—the primary luxury being “free” time—“my” time that I could “control.”  Jesus shifted my paradigm—my grid for my life.  He did it gradually.  He did it instantly.  He still does it.  I’m so thankful that he “messes up” my life. 

            He showed me my desperate need for Him all day every day.  He showed me that my “old Christianity” only works in a vacuum where there are no demands on my life.  He loved me too much to let me stay there, and he brought me to a new season, a place where my rough edges can be smoothed by the sandpaper of little people who live with me all the time and big people too who don’t think just like I do.  He gives me a place to get stretched, bothered, misunderstood, and overwhelmed in a good kind of way.  It’s a way that slowly looks more like the Kingdom of God than the kingdom of self.

            I’ve been reading the gospel of Mark, and I love how it does something to me every time I read it.  In Mark 2 (and all over the gospels) Jesus messes with the religious folks’ thinking too.  He forgives sins, calls a tax collector, invites the scum of the earth to eat with him, doesn’t fast like “they” think he should, harvests on the Sabbath.  It’s a paradigm shift of gigantic proportions.

            It got me thinking . . . is what I think is good and righteous truly the way of the cross, the way of Jesus, or is it fraudulent self-righteousness instead?  In short, where am I the Pharisee who has tragically, sadly missed Him?  “Examine yourselves to see whether you are in the faith; test yourselves” (2 Cor. 13:5 NIV).

            You don’t have to have children or a husband to have this good kind of messed up life, but you must have Jesus.  You must make room for the Savior to come in and shift your paradigm and move you to the next season.

What we really need . . . A Renewed Mind, Part 1

            We spend most of our waking hours on the “doing.”  The Word certainly supports a life of doing:  “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Eph. 2:10 NIV).  But in order to do the doing that God has called us to do, we must know who we are—the being.  If we are going to serve with joy among the joyless, endure hardships, stand firm in adversity, mature, live out our gifting with power and purpose, we must know who we are . . . namely, who we are in Christ.

            For those who’ve grown up in the church, we blow this off.   Check.  I know the verses—I’m an heir of God, adopted Gentile kid.  Caught in a trap of false humility, we don’t want to think of who we are in Christ—maybe because of our pride . . . (but that’s for another day).

            Christ didn’t die for that—just for me to live in a trap.  He also didn’t die for you or me to walk around defeated with a gray cloud over your head, powerless and without joy or victory.

            No, he died to make you a new creation, an heir of the Father and co-heir with Him, to graft you into His family and make you His own.  He defeated your sin and your death so that you might be filled with the Holy Spirit and live in freedom and victory and enjoy His presence all the time.  He defeated my sin and my death so that I might “do good works” with REAL LOVE in a depraved, messed up world.

            So if you need a swift kick in the behind . . . I mean a gentle reminder of who you are . . . as I do sometimes, maybe these verses will get you started:

Who I am in Christ

Colossians 3:10-12 (NLT):  Put on your new nature, and be renewed as you learn to know your Creator and become like him. ¹¹ In this new life, it doesn’t matter if you are a Jew or a Gentile, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbaric, uncivilized, slave, or free. Christ is all that matters, and he lives in all of us.  ¹² Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.

Romans 6:4 (NLT):  For we died and were buried with Christ by baptism. And just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glorious power of the Father, now we also may live new lives.

Romans 8:17 (NIV):  Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

2 Corinthians 5:17 (NLT):  This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!

2 Corinthians 5:20 (NLT):  So we are Christ’s ambassadors; God is making his appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, “Come back to God!”

Ephesians 4:22-24 (NIV):  You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; ²³ to be made new in the attitude of your minds; ²⁴ and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

Galatians 4:4-7 (NIV):  But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, ⁵ to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. ⁶ Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” ⁷ So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.

The Times I Mess Up the Most (sin against them the most, to put it bluntly)

     It’s always when I’m in a hurry.  Hurry to get them up, fed, teeth brushed, clothes on, bathroom visited, out the door . . . out the door with the diaper bag, lunch box, her back pack, my back pack, ballet clothes . . AGGGHHH!  Did I mention that I get up really early, and yes, I know all that about putting your stuff by the door the night before, yet something always seems to come up right at the last minute with little ones! 

Hurry to get to church, to school, to bed, through the store, through the next thing so that we can get to the thing after that that has to be done before that other thing can be done!  My hurry and my flesh collide and spill my sin all over my children.  It’s an ugly picture of loud huffs, little grace, and later…regrets.

     I don’t remember who said it (maybe it was a seminary professor or maybe it was in a book), but “they” said, “Hurrying is the way of the amateur.”  Then, I am definitely in the little league.

     So here’s how I’m working on this one:

1. Yes, by preparing what can be prepared (but that is very little sometimes)
2. Yes, by eliminating superfluous activity for which I don’t have time in this season of my life

Those are the easy two.  Here are the more subtle, challenging ones:

3. By accepting that I’m going to have to disappoint others sometimes (whether it be my children because they have to give up a toy or certain pair of shoes they are demanding or whether it be the people/person to whom I’m in a hurry to reach)
4. by making it my goal to please God in the midst of the tasks and hurry
5. by remembering that my attitude is more important to God than my accomplishments, punctuality, or appearance (of myself, my children, my house, my messy car!)  “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength” Prov. 17:22 NLT).

     God wants my children to see Himself through me.  I forget this, but thankfully God and I meet on the front porch again in the morning, start over, and He fills me afresh and graciously gives me another chance to do it differently.

Where does my help come from?  
My help comes from the Lord,  
the Maker of heaven and earth.

. . . He will watch over your life;
 the Lord will watch over your coming and going
 both now and forevermore.

(Psalm 121:1b-2, 7b-8 NIV)

How do you set aside the time for meeting with God?

     Several dear friends have asked me this same question lately.  They are asking me, in particular, because they know that I am “in the trenches” with them.  With two little ones clinging to me (both literally and figuratively), dependent on me for nearly every thing most waking hours of the day, there is precious little quiet in my days.  Instead, we spend loads of time getting on the potty, off the potty (potty training is a necessary evil!), and making and cleaning up messes in the kitchen, in the living room, in the bedrooms, in the bathrooms, and of course, in the car!  You catch my drift . . . I can’t tell a toddler and preschooler to run entertain themselves for hours while I meet with the Lord.

Instead, here are three things I attempt daily:

1. Get up early.  If you knew the incarnate Jesus were sitting on your back porch at 5:30 a.m., would you get up and go see him?  Ok, so the incarnate Jesus isn’t on my back porch, but the same Jesus is on my porch through His Spirit.  I am weak and utterly dependent on Him.  I recognize this, so I get up and meet with him before the children get up.  I learned this habit from two good folks:     
1. Jesus:  “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed” (Mark 1:35 NIV).  If God the Son needed it, words can’t express my need for it.  
2.  Mama:  Growing up Mama got up before we did to pray and read the Word.  Children tend to live what their parents live more than what their parents say.  (Disclaimer:  I know there are those seasons in life when this getting up early is nearly impossible.  I’ve nursed two babies who didn’t sleep through the night, and I’m about to be in that season again in which I will not necessarily set an alarm (who needs one with an infant?!) but will meet with God in whatever watches of the night baby wakes me!  I also know some folks can find some other particular time in the day, but this is just what works best for me.  At night, I'm tired, can't think straight, and usually fall asleep.)
2. Set my heart on a Person.  The Person is Jesus.  I say “Person” to contrast with “task.”  This is the hardest one for me.  Jesus has to be the Lord, the Master of my to-do list.  He enables me to keep perspective on what’s worth getting my feathers ruffled over and what’s not.  (By the way, most things are not, I know, but “slow-learner” I am.)  “Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand.  Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth.  For you died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col 3:1-3 NLT).  He helps me to see people and tasks with His eyes.  When I allow Him to do this for me, every thing—every. single. thing.—gets a lot easier.  “For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light” (Mat. 11:30).
3. Pray A LOT.  I pray silently and out loud with whomever I'm present everyday.  Most days this would be my children.  For practical example, I was about to blow a gasket over the rotten mood that one of them was in a couple of days ago, so the three of us prayed for her right then.  (The honesty in their prayers is refreshing.)  I’m modeling for them to turn to God when we need help as well as when we want to thank Him (trying to model it, anyway); as a result, they pray out loud several times a day.  If you have children, try this!  God moves mountains in prayer . . . and sometimes we are the mountain.

     After writing this, I wrote another piece on “the times I mess up the most,” which goes along with this post, so I’ll hopefully have that for you next.  If you are beginning to try these three things listed above or want some accountability, email me and let me know.  I’ll be praying for you, sister!

How do I know that I know that God hears my prayers?

     I write them down - my prayers - tucked in the back of a little spiral-bound notebook, my left-handed penmanship barely legible, but God knows.  On Tuesday I scribbled out a prayer for God to teach me how to be a better encourager, more intentional in my conversations with people.  (See 1 Thes. 5:11.) Two hours later He planted me on a couch in a little room next to a British woman born in 1915.  Her age and sharp mind (while impressive) were not nearly as impressive as her zeal and heart for Jesus and for people to know Him, to experience His power and presence today.  Her words for others, her life for Jesus . . . all day, every day, day in, day out, year in, year out.  Today I pray that if I'm here in 2080, I will do the same.     
     On Tuesday night I pray that God will break the sin that entangles a teenage girl's life, and on Wednesday morning, God in His goodness allows me to see His power--the girl-captive set free through the cross of Christ.
     How do I know that I know that God hears my prayers?
He gives me eyes to see and ears to hear.  Not because of anything I've done to deserve His answering but simply because He is good. 

"The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him" (Lam. 3:25).

     Last Saturday on the living room floor of my childhood home I comb through old photographs and spiral-bound notebooks--finding pages and pages of prayers of a little seventeen-year-old girl.  Before tossing those pages in the trash, I smile, "I know that I know that God hears my prayers.  He has answered every one."  Over and over in that little notebook, tucked away for over fourteen years, I had scribbled at the end of nearly every prayer, "Fill my cup, Lord."  He answered, "Your cup will overflow, beloved."  And it does. 

"Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you" (James 4:8 ESV).

"You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.  Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life . . ." (Psalm 23:5b-6a NIV).