Memes and wise poetic sayings are all over social media. I came across one the other day that made me think. I agreed with the sentiment behind it. But upon deeper thought, I disagreed with what it said.
I’m fairly sure Mary and Joseph would disagree with the “simpleness” of that day. Mary was a teenager very pregnant with her first child. Though it is likely that she had assisted in births, she had never actually given birth herself. She didn’t have any women with her and probably felt very alone. Who helped her? Was it just Joseph? I’m fairly certain Joseph had never helped birth any babies before . . . animals maybe. But no actual human babies! As she was writhing in pain, how did she make sure to do all the things she needed to do to prevent infection? Hot water? Clean cloths? And what about a knife to cut the umbilical cord? She was in a barn with animals. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it felt anything but simple.
“She gave birth to her first son. She wrapped him up well and laid him in a box where cattle are fed. She put him there because the guest room was full.”
And let’s talk about the shepherds minding their business in the fields. All the sudden the angels of the Lord’s army appear to them. As we read the story today, we imagine beautiful angelic beings floating around. We sigh and imagine how amazing that must have been. Now, let’s imagine the reality. Let’s put ourselves in the sandals of those men and think about what their actual reaction was. Terror . . . it was terror. This is the Lord’s Army. What did they look like? What did they sound like? I’m pretty sure they didn’t look like wispy fairies floating around. They are warriors. God’s warriors. No. This was not an ordinary night on the job.
“Then a huge army of angels from heaven joined the first angel, and they were all praising God, saying ‘Praise God in heaven, and on earth let there be peace to the people who please him.'”
Next up . . . the wise men. Getting ready for a trip can be hectic. Getting ready for a trip that has no exact destination or foreseeable end would be impossible. That is what these men faced as the star appeared to them. The trip would take months maybe years. They would need money. They would need food. They would need reliable transportation. And most importantly they would need gifts fit for THE KING! The ONE who would save Israel. The one who would save all of mankind.
“‘Where is the child who has been born to be the king of the Jews? We saw the star that shows he was born. We saw it rise in the sky in the east and have come to worship him.'”
Last but not least our Heavenly Father. The all-powerful God who sent His son to sinful Earth as a sacrifice. How did He feel giving Jesus up knowing how it would all end? I know that He had a plan. I know that it all was for our ultimate good. But I also know that our God is compassionate and loving and merciful. And the fact that His essence was about to have to experience pain and death could not have been easy. Only a Holy God could have let go and looked to the greater good. Was it a simple day for Almighty God? I just don’t think so.
“About three o’clock Jesus cried out loudly, ‘Ili, Ili, lema sabachthani?’ This means ‘My God, my God, why have you left me alone?'”
So, even though I understand the sentiment behind the above meme, I do not agree with it. This day was the day of all days. The only day greater than this one throughout all of time is the day when that baby turned man would defeat death, rise from the grave, and save humanity. Praise be to God! Easter is coming!
“Suddenly, Jesus was there in front of them. He said, ‘Hello!’ The women went to him and, holding on to his feet, worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, ‘Don’t be afraid. Go tell my followers to go to Galilee. They will see me there.'”
The other day I saw someone who I had not seen in a long time. This sweet lady kept my three young sons when I went back to work after being home for about a year when Ty and Eli were born. She loved my kids so well. I never worried about them when they were with her. Never. When I saw her, she walked right up to me and gave me the warmest, best, biggest hug. This was not one of those side pats. Nope. This was serious. It was so good that it has stayed with me weeks later. It was so memorable that as I tell you about it I do it with tears in my eyes. And do you know why? Because she made me feel so very loved. With something as simple as a hug.
Mom Shirley
Lots of mouths to feed!
LOVE!
In the last couple of months, I have been completely overcome by this one word . . . love. We throw it around like it’s no big deal. We use it to talk about how we feel about our husband, best friend, and mom. Or we may be talking about our favorite restaurant, new shoes, hair cut, or manicure–obviously! How is it that I use the same word to describe my feelings for Trip as well as creme brulee? Hmmmm . . . I keep waiting for all these thoughts to come to an overarching culmination . . . some great big lesson learned. But it’s just not happening. God just keeps on pushing and pressing and revealing. And I just can’t quite get my head around all of it. So, I thought that I would share where I am. Right now. Right here in the midst of this great, big, enormously small word. I have carried this word around with me my whole life. For 24 years anytime I introduced myself I said it. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Love. Nice to meet you.” Yet I never stopped to think about the significance of the name bestowed upon me.
As a christian, I have been taught how much God loves me and you. I have sung the songs since I was a child, Jesus loves me this I know and Jesus loves the little children. I know it and have never doubted. But, this isn’t exactly the direction God has been nudging me. It hasn’t been in how much God loves me but in His call on my life to love others. And quite honestly my motivations.
The questions have been coming relentlessly. Why are you going to church? Why are you teaching Sunday school? Why do you help with the youth? Why would you write a blog? Why do you do any of these things? Is it to be heard? To have a voice? To feel important? To feel like you are doing “something” with your life? And as the questions have come and I have begun to examine myself the verse in 1 Corinthians rings in my ears, “If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” (1 Corinthians 13:1) So, all that I do, whether I am doing it for my family or friends or a perfect stranger I am to do out of love. And if I do it for any other reason, chances are it will be obvious. All those words and actions done in order to prop myself up will be nothing more than annoying and unpleasant. Have you heard a gong? I wouldn’t want someone following me around with one! And I would hate to think that when I open my mouth to speak that is what people hear.
So, how do we do this? How do we love someone who has hurt us or someone we’ve never even met? It’s quite simple really and yet at the same time the most difficult thing we may ever do. We choose to. Just like that. Hallmark wants us to think that it’s a feeling that manifests and stays with us forever. Well, I’m going to call bull on that. Anyone who has been married for longer than 1 week or has a friend who has been in your life for 30 years knows that there are going to be conflicts. Feelings come and go. I can go where the grass is seemingly greener. Or I can tend the plot of land I have been given. I can stay the course. Or not.
For those of you with children, particularly small babies, that choice is difficult at 2:00 am. You are so tired. You have already gotten up 3 times to put that passy back in. But you CHOOSE to love someone who can offer you very little in return. You get up. Or what about hubby laying next to you when the baby wakes up at 2:00 am for the 3rd time? He isoblivious. That choice is a little more difficult. What about your teenagers who do really dumb things for no apparent reason? The line can feel so fine between heart-bursting love and red, hot anger. But, this is family right? We have to love family. Well, no. We don’t. We decide to.
What about people who aren’t our family? What about that person on the other end of the phone line telling me my package isn’t going to be delivered. I NEED that package. YESTERDAY! I can be rude. I don’t even know her. Who says I have to be kind in my frustration? Uhmmmm . . . God does.
This all feels really cliche to me. We read so much these days about being inclusive and tolerant. Social media is filled with so much advice about loving yourself and being accepting of others. And the news! Talk about a clanging cymbal! Honestly, that is the last thing that I want this blog to communicate. I’m tired of reading all the WORDS about love. I want to see someone actually doing it. Boots on the ground. That’s all that really matters. “Faith expressing itself through love.” (Galations 5:6) Save the sermon for another day. I want to see our love.
So, how does love manifest towards others both those we know intimately as well as those we only know in passing? It takes on many forms and sometimes we don’t recognize it at first glance. What do boots on the ground look like?
~Love is patient . . . to the really slow cashier at Wal-Mart
~Love is kind . . . to the friend who needs my listening ears.
~Love is not jealous . . . when I see everyone’s vacation pics on Facebook.
~Love is not boastful . . . when what I said would happen happens.
~Love is not proud . . . when I get the promotion at work over other coworkers.
~Love is not rude . . . when I’m in a bad mood and my kids are being loud and obnoxious.
~Love does not demand its own way . . . when I want something but my husband does not.
~Love is not irritable . . . before I have had my coffee in the morning.
~Love keeps no record of wrong . . . even of that friend who talked about me behind my back.
~Love rejoices when the truth wins . . . “No, she isn’t any funnier/smarter/prettier/better than I am. She has her gifts. I have mine!”
~Love never gives up . . . on that family member who can’t seem to shake the addiction.
~Love never loses faith . . . in the power of Almighty God to do the impossible.
~Love is always hopeful . . . for that child who just can’t seem to make right decisions.
~Love endures through every circumstance . . . EVERY CIRCUMSTANCE.
Jesus tells the parable of the good Samaritan. Samaritans were despised by Jews. Not just disiked. I am talking loathed. Abhorred. Detested. A Samaritan man came upon a Jewish man stripped and badly beaten almost to death. Despite the bad blood between the two people groups, Sammy (I just made up that name) tried as best he could to bandage the man’s wounds. He put the man on his donkey and took him to an inn where he continued to take care of him. When Sammy had to leave, he paid the innkeeper with silver. And even said that if the injured man needed anything else that he would pay for it. These two people were total strangers. Enemies. BOOTS ON THE GROUND.
This parable shows love as sacrifice. And it most definitely is that. But, it doesn’t have to be so big. It can be a phone call, a text, a $5 dollar bill. It can be stopping by for a visit. It can be a thank you, excuse me, let me help you with that door. It’s adults who volunteer to help with children’s programs at church even after their own kids are long gone. Grandparents lending a hand when mom needs a nap or a massage or just 30 minutes of quiet. Let’s don’t make it too complicated. It’s not.
Jesus tells us to do the most simply difficult thing a person can do. He did it. He gave it all. Everything. His very life. For us. For love. Now it’s our turn. We can walk around with our heads in the sand pretending that we don’t see others around us. Or, we can choose to lose our lives by giving it away. To Him. To our neighbors. And in turn, gain everything that we have always wanted. Joy. Peace. Abundance.
A few days ago Trip and I watched a movie we hadn’t seen in years–What Women Want with Mel Gibson. The movie is about a guy who is able to hear women’s thoughts. When the main character first develops this ability, he is completely overwhelmed at the activity of the female mind. Trip looked at me and said, “Is that true? Are ya’ll really always thinking about something” I started laughing, “Yep.” To which he responds, “Ya’ll are crazy!” Apparently men don’t do this.
I have been waking up with a sore jaw and my hands clinched into fists. My only answer for this is anxiety. Initially, I typed the word stress, but I really don’t have that. My life is typically pressure free . . . from outside sources anyway. The strain in my life comes from within. Those crazy women voices in the movie . . . For me, they are relentless. And considering that a whole movie was based around it, I have a feeling that many of you are plagued by this as well. So, I have this sore jaw, and I also have terrible knots in my neck and shoulders. About once a week Trip will knead the knots away while I grit my teeth and beg him to stop. The other night he said to me, “What in the world causes you to literally be in knots? You get up each morning and pray and read the word. You should be in top notch shape!” At his comment, which I totally agree with by the way, I just started laughing. And my response: “Imagine what I would be like if I didn’t do that. I would probably be in a padded room somewhere.”
These things going on in my mind and body are internal indicators that maybe I’m not quite on the right track despite my constant efforts. Maybe all those truths that I know in my head aren’t quite sinking into my heart. There have been times in my life when those signals became glaring . . . like blue lights in the rear view kind of blinding. And not only to me. These times resulted in some very embarrassing situations. Get ready for a good laugh. No judgement please! My heart is beating fast and my hands are shaking.
Embarrassing moment #1
First of all, I just want to say that I managed to get 4 children and myself to school clothed (except for that one no shirt incident) and fed (usually), on time (mostly) every day for 10 years. On this particular day, I must have been especially preoccupied because something that most people do on instinct I somehow forgot to do. I had been at school about an hour. The other fourth grade teachers and I were doing hall duty when the principal walked down the hallway. Mr. Hall stopped as he often did to chat a bit and he said to me, “Do you drive a silver Honda Pilot?” “Uhmmmm . . . yes. Yes I do!” “Well,” he said with a completely straight face, “It’s still running in the parking lot.” I think all of the blood left my brain at this point, and I became completely incompetent. “Uh-uh. You’re lying!” I said this to my boss. And he just stood there while I very confusingly went to get my keys out of my purse. Except, uhmmm, heellloooo they are in the car! God the Father, Baby Jesus, and all the angels this can not be happening. I. LEFT. MY. CAR. RUNNING. IN. THE. PARKING. LOT. And I called my boss a liar! Speechless. My eyes filled up with tears. I was so embarrassed. I’m surprised that Mr Hall didn’t spend the rest of the day in my classroom observing me. Okay, God! Check! Got it! I need to chill! Help me!
Out of the driveway by 7:10 a.m.!!!
Horrifying moment #2
I am the type of person who when I start something I like to finish it. Like, right then. I hate leaving something undone. And I can be hyper-focused to a fault. Both of these traits are not good for a teacher with 4 kids trying to actually get work done in the afternoons. The kids would come in with their homework and want help. At least one of them would give me a play by play of everything that happened on the playground that day. This story could actually take my entire planning time, so I would NEVER get to leave school on time. This particular day I was trying to get all of us out the door at a reasonable time. I’m doing my usual “Let’s go! Let’s go! We’re leaving!” which none of them would actually respond to until I turn the classroom light off and close the door behind me. So, I walk to the car with my little ducks following behind me thinking about all of those things that were still piled on my desk. I get in the car. The kids get in the car. The doors close. I drive off. And I guess I got about a mile down the road when one of the boys very calmly says, “Hey mom, where’s Judah?” That was it. Like he was asking where he left his snack. And then my phone rings. “Mrs. Grace, I think you left something at school.” Yep! Your getting it. I left him. My baby. Judah. Left him at school. Just drove right off. No clue he wasn’t in the car. The bigs were somewhere between dying of laughter and fear for their own lives. This mother of mine is actually capable of forgetting us. And I cried. It still makes me cry. Right now I am typing this with tears in my eyes. But I am laughing a little. This particular memory is going to take more time to get over.
How could I have left this cuteness?
Both of those moments told me the same thing. Despite my best attempts to do all the things, be the best wife, the best mom, the best teacher and daughter and friend, I was still failing. Or at least that’s how it felt at the time. When I quit teaching and began working with Trip, the problem with my runaway brain didn’t go away. I still find myself in the same place over and over again. My issue it seems is not with teaching or mom-ing or wife-ing. It goes much deeper–all the way to the foundation of who I am. It is something that I never imagined. It’s fear.
As soon as I realized this, I began mentally making a list. Some of my behaviors that I never understood before began to click into place. I know that Satan is the father of lies and by believing those lies fear sneaked into many aspects of my life. So, what do we do when we feel like we are being attacked? We fight back. We do not sit idly by and allow life to just happen to us. Ephesians 6: 10-20 tells us to put on the armor of God. Several weeks ago I began reading these verses every single morning. I mentally put on my armor each day by asking myself in what areas of my life am I not believing truth. What evidence proves that I am trying to live in my own righteousness? Am I ready to share the gospel of peace or do I shy away from opportunities to let His light shine through me? Do I rest easy knowing that I am redeemed? Am I truly believing his word and in the instances where I find myself doubting do I fight with the word of God? Do I open my mouth and speak the truth of God out loud? Oh, there is so much power in the actual spoken word.
This morning I thumbed over to a verse in Philippians 4. It is so familiar to me it’s like putting on my favorite pajama pants. It may be recognizable to you too. Even if it is, read over it slowly as if it’s your first time.
Anxiety is fear. This verse tells us how to fight it. Three actions: Prayer. Supplication. Worship. We understand mostly what prayer is. When we pray we are generally talking to God. This could mean we are praising Him or thanking Him or making our requests known. We are to do all of these things. Supplication though is a little different. It is very specific. We are asking for God’s intervention in a particular cause. This is the point at which we address whatever the thing is that is causing fear in our souls. And then we thank Him. In the midst of our angst, we tell Him how amazing He is. We tell Him that His plan is absolutely perfect even if it feels like destruction. And we believe that He is able to “work all things for the good” even if we see no way out. Praise and thanksgiving when we aren’t “feeling it” is the epitome of pure worship.
Verse seven is usually where I stop. But this morning God said, “No, no . . . keep reading.” And when I did understanding dawned. The next verses say:
. . . think about such things.
What do my thoughts consist of? Are they true? Not always. Sometimes I make up whole scenarios in my head. Like, what if my whole family dies in a car wreck and leaves me here all alone? This is a path to nowhere good!! Are my thoughts right? Like many women, I tend to look in the mirror and see only flaws. And I am absolutely certain that Trip thinks I’m a hot mama! So, no. Not right. Pure? I’m just going to skip right on over this one. Are my thoughts lovely? Not when I am comparing myself to another. Excellent? Praiseworthy? Are you kidding me? I would be mortified if people could read my mind. Well, guess WHO can. Oh, Jesus.
And there it is. The answer. How do we fight the fear? We pray. We petition. We worship. And “we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:5) I will not allow myself to imagine what it would be like as a single, mourning woman. I will not allow myself to look in the mirror with a critical eye or speak negativity over my body. I will not allow myself to be jealous over other women’s accomplishments. Instead I will rejoice with them and thank God for the inspiration that they instill. I will stop and replace the commonplace barrage with the word of God. The more I do this the typical bombardment becomes less and less. It is replaced with truth and light.
I am still struggling. I haven’t “beat” this. It took years to get me to this place, and it’s going to take some undoing. It’s hard for me to admit to this weakness . . . this chink in my armor. But I know without a doubt that there are others out there who find themselves in this sinking ship of fear. If you are one of them, I urge you to join me and “Fight the good fight for the true faith. Hold tightly to the eternal life to which God has called you.”(1 Tim 6:12) “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” (2 Tim. 1:7)
Judah got a hover board for Christmas. He jumped on and took off like he had been doing it since leaving the womb. The way he glides through doorways and spins in circles makes everyone watching want to jump on. Throughout Christmas day kids and adults alike succumbed to the goading in our heads–you know the one that says you are super athletic and have great balance. As I watched, I realized that there are three different types of people. The first person is the one like Judah. The board is like a natural extension of his feet. These people are rare. The second is the one who unwittingly jumps on full speed ahead. This person has no doubt about his ability to master the board immediately. It looks fun and easy. Everyone can do this, right? HA! I saw no less than 3 full-grown adults spastically flailing about before an untimely demise right before my eyes. It was hilarious, and I wish I had been videoing. The third type of hover boarder is the one who watches the first ones’ humiliation and knows better. That was me. Judah coached me before the maiden voyage. He held my hand and guided me through step by step. I slowly made my way around the living room without falling. Boom. I felt like a rock star upon dismount.
These different approaches to the hover board made me think about 2019. After all, the strategy (or lack thereof) people choose in riding the board is generally the same way they approach life in general. So, Am I gliding into the new year with goals and plans in place? Nope. Not yet. Am I full steam ahead without any kind of direction or aim in mind? Not exactly. Or am I a bit hesitant? Cautious? Unsure?
That last one, that’s me. I have thought a great deal about where I would like to see myself eventually land. I’ve even sat down a couple of times with the intention of setting some goals and making a plan. But every time, I ended up with a blank page.
I decided this morning that instead of looking forward I would sit and reflect upon 2018. I didn’t get very far. Since having kids it seems that I have been transported into that Adam Sandler movie Click. Time is passing, and sometimes I feel like I am getting left behind. Whole entire memories are gone from my brain. What did we do last New Years? Where did we stay on vacation? Did I remember to pay that bill? Is Dru 12 or 13? What did we have for dinner last night? Seriously, people . . . last night. Oh wait, I ate Mexican. That one is still there. Well, just give it a minute. I looked back in the journal I have used during 2018 and from January to June there are about 5 pages. Really. What happened during that period of time? I honestly have no idea. June to December I get a pretty good play by play. So, I guess I will start there. Here are the biggies: 1. A group of women began meeting in my home. 2. I began writing more consistently which eventually led to this blog. 3. I committed to exercising 5 days a week. Now, I know that this is only 3 seemingly inconsequential things. It’s not like I wrote a book and sold a million copies or began some great speaking tour. To most people, these “accomplishments ” are small. To me, they point to something bigger. They represent big change in my life.
I stepped out of my fear of rejection and failure and other people’s opinions and said yes to the small nudges from God.
And there it is. The “Aha” moment! My aim comes into focus crystal clear. I can see the bulls eye. 2019:Say YES to the Holy Spirit’s whispers. Every. Single. Time. Not just on Wednesday’s or Sunday’s or when I feel good or brave. We never feel brave. We just choose to be.
I’m so thankful each of these ladies said yes to our Sunday night small group. It has become one of my greatest joys.
So, now I have a destination. And the plan falls right into place without me even having to consider the how. I know exactly how to see this happen. It happens when I seek God. CONSISTENTLY. PERSISTENTLY. When I am all in for Jesus, yes isn’t so hard and scary, and it’s not such a great leap.
I will continue to stare down my demons in 2019. Each time I post on this blog or put on my workout clothes or serve my fellow man, I will burst through the wall that says I can’t. I commit to saying yes to the Holy Spirit. I will not do this perfectly. There is only one perfect One. But, I will try. And when my imperfections shine through I will lean into Jesus and remember that He alone is my righteousness.
Trip and I had a unique beginning. We met when I was a senior in high school. Trip was only a sophomore. He has always been a larger than life kind of guy, and so when we met, despite the age difference, I was immediately drawn to him. We dated for a few months, but I was moving to college. We all know how that goes. So, we broke up. We had no contact with one another for years. During that time, God changed both of our lives dramatically. I gave my life to Jesus and even moved to another country to share His love. Meanwhile, Trip’s eyes were opened to the absolute TRUTH of the gospel, and he began experiencing the love of Jesus in a personal way.
While I was in China, Trip came across one of my newsletters which included my email address. He took a chance and contacted me out of the blue. I was taken completely by surprise. It had been about 7 years since our break up, and the relationship didn’t end well. Technology in 2003 was not what it is now. There was no social media so receiving emails was a huge deal–a highlight of my day. I would get so frustrated though when Trip would send me a message. Most times I would excitedly open it up and find one line . . .usually a bible verse. Now, don’t get me wrong! I love a good verse. But really?? I’m across the world! No “Hey how ya doin’?” or “Wow! Tell me all about your life for the past 7 years!”. Nope! None of that. He had become a man of few words apparently. Those who know my husband are as confused by this as I am! Because of this, I really didn’t think much about his communications. They were encouraging but not personal. I had no idea that he was counting down the days until I touched down in the USA.
So, I get home. And I wait. Good grief. This guy is such an enigma. Nothing. I email him with the news that I have gotten back. And I wait again. I have no idea what he was thinking. Maybe he was playing hard to get! Or even worse, making me pay for that break up back in 1997. He finally calls, and we set up a dinner together. From the moment I got into that crimson (not to be confused with RED for all you Bulldogs out there) Ford 150, it was over for me. COMPLETELY IN LOVE! We laughed and talked all night.
Now remember, since we had seen each other last both of us had huge life changes. We really didn’t know what to expect from the other person. I had gone so far as to be a missionary. That kind of lifestyle choice comes with lots of generalizations as well as expectations. A few weeks into our relationship Trip says the funniest thing to me. He said, ” I really didn’t know what to expect you to be like. I thought you would be meek and mild.” Uhmmmmm . . . excuse me?? What does that mean exactly? Because of the work I had been doing, he thought that I would be this quiet and demure woman who doesn’t laugh loud and talk incessantly. We all know the stereotype. This woman is shy to a fault and melds into the background. She never laughs too loud. Heck, you rarely even realize that she’s in the room. Well . . . that was not me! Especially with Trip. We were in love. Everything he said was hilarious and amazing and sent directly from the lips of God Almighty Himself. Obviously. We could talk for hours and never cover the same topic because we were getting to know one another. And we had seven years of separation to make up for! The stereotypical female church mouse I was not.
We were giddily in love! Absolutely could not spend enough time together! Circa 2003
This is where I want to sit and talk. First of all, let’s talk about this word–meek. Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5:5) Meek comes from the Greek word praus. There is no direct translation for this word, so it is most often associated with being gentle and humble. But in the Greek culture, the word had a much more powerful connotation. It is compared to a wild horse that has been tamed. The tamed horse has not lost its strength. On the contrary, it has become even more powerful because now all of that energy can be focused and used in a controlled way. It is harnessed power! This is the word that I want to be associated with!!
Modern Christian women have the absolute wrong idea about the way that God intended us to be. Because of cultural differences, we have a skewed idea about the biblical, Godly woman. Honestly, think about how you see her. She is quiet, completely submissive, fades into the shadows, almost a door mat. She was bossed around by her husband who pretty much treated her like a slave. Well I have some good news to share with you! This is a lie straight from the pits of hell! The real woman during biblical times was a phenom! She was a warrior! She cooked over a fire built with her hands without using a match. She fed her family food that she more than likely grew herself. She had to kill and skin animals. She birthed babies in her home with the help of a friend or neighbor. And then more than likely got up within a day or so and went on with life as usual. She had no central heat and air for crying out loud! My power was out for 24 hours and you would have thought that the Apocalypse was happening. She served her husband and family in every way, and they loved her for it. This woman made sure that those who had been entrusted into her care had everything they needed. Please note that I did not say wanted! I said needed. Ladies, hear me! God did not create us to be damsels in distress. We are not weak. We do not need to hide our gifts and talents. God gave us those gifts to bless and serve others. He never intended for us to hide in the shadows. His desire for us is to be strong, productive members of our families and societies.
Every day for the last week, I have read the verses in Proverbs written about a wife of noble character. This woman is not an oppressed slave-like person. She is entirely the opposite of that.
A Proverbs 31 woman is:
~valuable
~trusted
~busy
~eager
~responsible
~dependable
~energetic
~strong
~profitable
~compassionate
~giving
~fearless
~creative
~supportive
~productive
~dignified
~wise
~kind
~watchful
~beloved
~blessed
Does this sound like a doormat or a weak-willed woman? Not even close! When I compare myself to her I realize that I fall waaaayyyyy short. Like, not even close. On a good day, I might be 3 of these things. And never all at once! How does this woman do it, we ask. How do we stay strong and positive and encouraging and productive every day without fail? How do we keep on keeping on when life gets hard and messy and confusing? The answer is tucked in there. If we aren’t careful, we will miss this most glorious nugget of truth. Solomon says, “Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last; but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised.” (Proverbs 31:30)
What is it about a relationship with God Almighty and Jesus Christ that gives us fortitude? What does it mean that “The joy of the Lord is our strength.”? It means that when I feel true joy, I am energized. When I feel loved, I am invincible. When I feel hope, I can not be stopped. I will keep pushing and trying. I will be consistent and persistent. The Proverbs 31 woman “is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” She can laugh because instead of feeling fear of the future she trusts in her Lord. She believes in His unfailing love even when times look bleak . . . even when bad things happen. This trust comes only from saturating herself in the word of God and in prayer. True strength can not be mustered up but comes from our souls. As a woman, physical strength will never be something I can boast of. Sure, I am healthy and for my size I am strong. However, most any man could overpower me with very little effort. But mental strength . . . spiritual strength is given by God Almighty. He is my source. And in Him, with Him as my shield and fortress, I can never be overpowered.
Women, this is your call to arms! “Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power.” A woman who seeks the Lord and whose desire is to please HIM will never be perfect. But her life will be a perfect reflection of the ONE to whom she serves.
It’s been twenty-one years since that first picture was taken. Our marriage is stronger than ever. We are as happy as we have ever been. Trip still makes me laugh every single day. I’m not saying that it’s all been sunshine and roses. It hasn’t. Without Christ as our foundation, I have no doubt that our marriage would not be what it is today. God makes us strong . . . for Him . . . for each other.
Proverbs 31:10-31 (NIV)
Epilogue: The Wife of Noble Character
10 [a]A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. 11 Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. 12 She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. 13 She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. 14 She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. 15 She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female servants. 16 She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. 17 She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. 18 She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night. 19 In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. 20 She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. 21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. 22 She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple. 23 Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. 24 She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. 25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. 26 She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. 27 She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. 28 Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: 29 “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” 30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. 31 Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
I took the boys to have their pictures professionally taken this morning. Yes, it’s a school day. They were extremely distressed about missing school. Seriously. Eli was worried about perfect attendance and exempting exams. He has missed exactly ZERO days all year. Who do these people belong to? I was begging to skip out on school at their age! Anyway, to say that it was freezing is not an exaggeration. It was literally freezing–32 degrees this morning . . . outside pics. I’m hoping they aren’t all going to look like Rudolph because those noses and cheeks were shining by the time they got back into the warm car . . . which I sat in while they took pics. No judgement please! On the way to the appointment, they were all fairly quiet. It was early and cold so the trip to the location was fairly uneventful. However when they got back into the car whining about hypothermia and child abuse, personalities were out in full color.
This mornings picture crew!
This is my account of the car ride back to school.
FORTY MINUTES
Fort Valley to Ellaville
First of all, they are hungry. Of course they are! I cooked them a healthy breakfast before we left home so we wouldn’t have to stop and get them something to eat. Nevertheless, being the sweet and attentive mother I am, I stop at a gas station. I tell them to get a small snack that will hold them over until lunch. They come back with honey buns . . . two per child. Apparently this “small snack” was on sale–must be a holdover from Black Friday. They were exceedingly proud of themselves. It didn’t take long for the sugar to begin its work. About 5 minutes into our trip I look in my rear view mirror and see Judah with no shirt on. Honestly, I don’t even ask anymore. As long as the kid has a shirt on when he gets to school we are all good. Ty tells me that one time he went to school without his shirt on. Don’t read past this my friends without letting the full impact of that rest upon you. My child went to school with NO SHIRT!!!! I have no idea how I missed that. Apparently, he thought it would be a good idea to just wear his jacket zipped up that day. For all of you parents out there who feel like you are failing, I hope this makes you feel better! All this talk about shirts being off somehow leads the guys in the back to a conversation about nipples. Judah informs the car that girls have nipples but boys don’t. Thankfully Eli came to the rescue and let Judah know that what he said is not accurate. Eli shared the scientific reasons why women’s nipples are bigger and ends with them talking about some kid who breastfed until he was 4. Up to this point, I haven’t said a word. I mean, what could I possibly add.
Now please keep in mind that my 13 year old is in the front seat with me while the “little” brothers are in the back. Dru has discovered 90’s rock and so throughout this ride we are being serenaded by bands such as Green Day and Nirvana with a little Poison and Def Leopard snuck in for variety. We are a music loving family, so my kids know all the words to Smells Like Teen Spirit as well as Pour Some Sugar on Me. And, by the way, who actually knows the words to Smells Like Teen Spirit? I’m a 90’s girl, and it’s mostly just a lot of mumbling and humming along. Anyway, I digress. The music is loud. The conversations are louder. Dru turns to me and says “Mom, look its a weed van. That van right there has a picture of weed on it, and it says the word cannabis.” At this point the kids in back who up until this point in the ride have been singing and talking about nipples stop what they are doing and one of them asks, “Hey mom, have you ever smoked weed?” GOOD LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL! I vowed to never lie to my kids, and so I told the truth. “Yes, I have. I tried it once when I was younger.” The kids don’t miss a beat. They go back to their normal banter. All I can think about is my 3rd grader going back to school and telling his friends that his mom smokes weed. So, that was our next very short and to the point conversation. It went like this, “Do not go to school and tell people that your mom smokes weed!” End of conversation. I haven’t received a call yet, so I think I’m in the clear.
We are only like 10 minutes into this ride! I’m not even kidding! We have about 30 more minutes to go. The intelligent conversations continue. Now it’s boogers. Because . . . obviously! Apparently someone has boogers. I now know what they look like and how said person chose to get rid of them. I will spare you those details. I certainly wish I had been. During the remainder of the ride, the twins sit in the back and quote one-liners from the movie Billy Madison and The Water Boy. “Where did you see those movies?” I ask. “We watched them with Bo when we went to spend the night! They are funny!” Really? Thanks Jess! And one of my forever favorites, Tommy Boy. “Fat guy in a little coat.” If you grew up in the 80’s and 90’s, you say that line singing just like Chris Farly. Ty and Eli must have sung that line 20 times–each time laughing as if it was the first. That viewing opportunity was all me. I can’t blame Jess for that one!
For your viewing pleasure! I couldn’t help myself! This clip does include a bad word so if that offends you just keep scrolling!
As they are quoting these very intelligent movie lines, I feel cold air come into the car. I really shouldn’t have even asked. I told you earlier that I had stopped asking! But I couldn’t help myself. And the response, “Oh, Eli is spraying water out the window.” It’s 30 degrees! Why God . . . why are these kids trying to make me act like a maniac this morning? I have an extreme amount of patience. It is being pushed to its absolute outer limits! I can’t wait for them to get out of the car. I have had enough this morning. I need to think thoughts. Real thoughts. Thoughts that don’t include weed and boogers!
Finally, we make it to the school. I drop off the bigs and take Judah to the elementary school. I get in the car with a feeling of relief. But then . . . that feeling of relief was replaced with something unexpected. I felt sad and lonely in the car by myself. As crazy as the morning was, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I miss my guys when they aren’t with me. Perspective hits me like a Mack truck. I think I want quiet, but what would that quiet mean? I think I want less laundry, but what would less laundry mean? I think I want an immaculate house, but what would that perfectly clean house mean? It would mean that my guys are all grown up. They are gone. Moved on to live their lives. And one day they will do that. They MUST do that. But not yet. And I refuse to live these precious years bearing my gifts as if they are burdens as the Ginny Owens song says. (check her out below) God knows I really don’t want that. God knows my heart. And so I ask him to help me with my perspective. EVERY. DAY.
Perspective: A particular attitude toward or way of regarding something
And so, I leave you with a question:
Do you need to change your perspective?
How do you know? Make a list of your most treasured gifts. If any of your gripes would change or take away those things that you value most, the answer to the question is yes.
“Children are a gift from the Lord: they are a reward from him. Children born to a young man are like arrows in a warrior’s hands. How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them . . .” Psalm 127: 3-5
an event that happens by chance or that is without apparent or deliberate cause.
Judah was a bit of an accident. Okay, no! That’s not exactly right. He wasn’t a bit of one. He was a full blown how in the hell could this have happened twist of fate thrust upon our lives! I know that I am supposed to say he was a “surprise” but whatever! That’s just something people say to make themselves feel better. For the first few weeks after finding out that we would be adding number 4 to the mix, we could not mentally process this information. I even researched false pregnancy test results just in case there was a chance that SIX tests might be wrong! Trip and I were in complete shock. We were already the very tired parents of a 3 year old and TWO 2 year olds. ALL BOYS! We were drowning to say they least.
A little perspective! We were basically running a day care!
After we got over the WTH phase of the pregnancy and moved into the “Okay, we got this” phase, we called the poor kid Susannah. And by “we” I mean all 5 of us! Because we were certain that this #4 surprise would be a girl. I mean, why else would God do this but to bless us with a little girl after all these boys, right?? It makes me chuckle even as I type this. You know . . . . how we think we know what’s best. Turns out #4 was not a girl. So, after weeks of calling this kid Susannah, we had to figure out another boy name! And then retrain the toddlers to call him Judah instead of Susannah.
Newly home from the hospital!
From the moment Judah made his arrival, he was spoiled rotten. Everyone in the family knew that this was it–the last one. And he was treated not only as if he was the last Grace baby to be born but as if he would be the last baby to born in all the Earth! The whole family loved him to pieces. From the very beginning, he took on the position as baby of the family like a champ. He knew exactly where he fit into this family. Life of the party, of course!
LIFE OF THE PARTY!!
Because of all of his big brothers, Judah’s vocabulary developed pretty quickly. He was able to communicate very well as a toddler, but there was a phrase that he used to say that would crack us up every time. When Trip would get on to him, he would always say, “Do you hear me, Judah?” And for the longest time Judah would reply, “I hear me, daddy.” It got to the point where Trip would ask him just to hear the response. I can hear his little voice saying it all these years later. So many memories. Many I have forgotten, but for some reason, this one stuck. Makes me wonder . . . what is it about this memory? Or, maybe its not the memory exactly. Maybe it’s the phrase itself.
I hear me. Oh, do I ever hear me. I hear me ALL THE TIME! I hear all of my opinions. I hear all of my worries. I hear all of my gripes and complaints. All of the ways I have been wronged or hurt. I hear me to the point that too many days I am exhausted from hearing me! Anyone relate??
Not too long ago, I was stressing over something. I was inside my head going over all the scenarios. I had been stuck in this place for days. You know the place that I’m talking about. We have all been there. I knew that I was not trusting God, and so I began to talk with Him about it. As I opened up to the Lord about my insecurities and doubts, something startling happened. Instead of hearing me, I heard Him. “I see you.” Three words that I heard all the way to my core. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s the truth. I felt immediate peace. The peace that Paul talks about in Philippians that passes all understanding. (Philippians 4:7) I felt so very loved and cared for in that moment. Even now that feeling has lingered on. He sees me. Little, insignificant me. And what is even more astonishing is that He not only sees me, but He sees you and the next door neighbor and even the coworker who drives you insane. He sees into each of our lives. And He will SPEAK into our souls if we will unclasp our hand, take captive our thoughts and act faithfully in listening for HIM.
It’s time to hear the ONE who speaks peace and not chaos into our souls. It’s time to hear the ONE who knows the past, present, and future of ALL LIFE. The ONE who sees all of our journey’s from beginning to end. The ONE who knows that this Love + Grace clan needs a spunky, funny, attention-loving, kind personality to make our circle complete.
I could have saved myself lots of stress and worry in those first weeks of pregnancy 10 years ago if only I had stopped hearing me and listened for HIM.
Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known. Jeremiah 33:3
I could never have imagined these great and hidden treasures! One guess as to who they are laughing at!!!
I am 5 feet tall. And what I mean by that is I am 4’11” but with my shoes on I’m at least 5 feet. Unless, of course, I’m wearing my favorite shoes. In that case, I would say I’m 5’2″. My genes have also blessed me with an extremely youthful face. So, between my height and my face apparently I look about 12. And that’s when I am dressed up fancy and looking my best! I would say I’m the size of your average 4th grader. Seriously.
This is me with my actual 12 year old sons! Hmmm…looks about right!
And this is me with my 13 year old! What a difference a year makes!
In actuality, I’m 39 years 4 months and 5 days old. I have a husband and 4 sons. My entire adult life has been spent working in some capacity. Teaching was my profession until about a year and a half ago when I quit doing that to work at our family business. When I first came on board with my father-in-law and husband, I was repeatedly asked by our customers if Trip (my husband) was my dad. And when I would tell them, “No, he’s my husband!” I would always get the EXACT same response: “You look just like a little girl!” Not a young lady or even a teenager. A. LITTLE. GIRL.
Ya’ll. Really? In what alternate universe does a wife and mother of 4 want to be called a little girl? For months–months people!–I would just smile and laugh it off with a “Well, I’m not. Look! Here are some pics of my children.” So, here I was trying to learn a completely new profession feeling very incompetent some days and purposeless others questioning every decision that I had prayed through so fervently. And now . . . I’m a child.
I found myself in the midst of a full blown identity crisis.
Listen, when you or someone else consistently labels you, eventually you will begin to believe it. Think about it. This happens with kids all the time. We have to be so very careful with how we talk to ourselves and others. And how we allow others to speak to us. No one meant me any harm whatsoever. Those people were not trying to be hurtful or insulting. And neither would I ever intend to hurt another. But words said without thought can set negativity in motion.
This is the place where God began to work. I found myself with questions. Good questions. Important questions. Who in the heck am I? What do I like? What do I want? What is my purpose? Am I a little girl?
God began weaving and whispering as I searched for answers. He began helping me to identify my likes and dislikes. And even more importantly He began helping me to say yes to the things I love and no to the rest.
I continue to search and ask and discover. And as I do the foundation of who I am is being etched upon my heart. So, here goes. This is the core of me.
A few minutes ago a lady came into the office. Can you guess what she said? Yep. She really did. “You look just like a little girl.” But . . . today I have my list. I just typed it! So, instead of wanting to body slam her, I just smiled and nodded. No need to get in a wad. I know what I am. I know who I am. More importantly . . . I know the One who is I AM.
“Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I AM.'”
Love + Grace 