Priceless Thoughts

I opened my eyes and awakened to my true reality.  Not the dream I just had.  Not the horrible nightmare I'd just lived through in the subconscious areas of my mind. 

With a rapidly beating, yet very grateful heart, I gave thanks for the new day and the two little lives who are still mine.  Still here in our home.  Still whole and healthy.  Still in need of my care.

I've heard that sometimes our dreams are manifestations of our daily thoughts, our daily concerns or our daily fears.  That would make perfect sense in this case. 

I think about my daughters constantly.  Nearly every minute of every hour of every day. 

What are they doing?
How are they doing?
Are they safe?
Are they protected?
Are they hungry?
Are they tired?
Are they prepared?
What do they need?
What do they want?
Are they listening?
Do they understand?
Are they learning enough?
Are they playing enough?
Are they hurting?
Are they content?
What are they thinking?
What are they saying?
How are they feeling?
How will this affect them in the future?
What kind of teenagers will they be?
What kind of adults will they be?
What kind of mothers will they be?

The wheels seem to be spinning on a never-ending loop inside my head.

As much as I try to tell myself I'm not really worrying or being anxious about anything, deep down I know I probably am.  As much as I try to convince myself I am trusting the Lord with every detail in my life and theirs, deep down I know I struggle with relinquishing control.  Is it possible you could relate?

As I lay in bed this morning, contemplating my dream, this verse came to mind:

"God, Your thoughts about me are priceless. No one can possibly add them all up. If I could count them, they would be more than the grains of sand." Psalm 139:17-18a (NIrV)

In thinking a multitude of thoughts toward my daughters, I realized I am, in fact, emulating my Father.  My Father, who thinks so many priceless thoughts of His children, that they cannot even be counted.  More than the innumerable grains of sand by the sea.

Unlike me, His thoughts are Divinely incapable of being consumed with worry, anxiety or fear.  He holds His children in the safe, secure palm of His hand.  He is sovereign and in total control.  His thoughts are not my thoughts, nor are His ways like my ways. 

His thoughts are higher than mine. His thoughts are for me, not against me.  His thoughts are full of great love.  He has thoughts only a doting parent could have for His child.

Time to refocus.  Time to think less on the weighty, burdensome questions and thoughts.  But instead, think on that which is "true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy." (Philippians 4:8)

Concerning my girls, I'm choosing to think about such things:

What precious gifts they are...
How adorable...
How delightful...
How insightful...
How brilliant...
How entertaining...
How talented...
How kind-hearted...
How helpful...
How challenging...
How tender...
How perceptive...
How sensitive...
How obedient...
How strong...
How brave...
How bold...
How fun...
How loving...
How grateful and blessed I am they're mine.

These are my priceless thoughts about them. 

Broken Things

She walked in my room and stood in front of me with a sweet smile on her face.  Slowly she unclenched her fist.  Displayed in the middle of her tiny palm was a small, pink, broken piece of plastic she'd unearthed while playing downstairs. 

At first glance, her find looked insignificant.  Like a useless piece of trash.  Something to be discarded.  Something to be thrown away. 

So I suggested she do just that.  Toss it.  Throw it away.  Get rid of it.  Especially if it's unnecessary, if it's taking up space, or if it's in the way.  Especially if it seems to have no purpose.

Her response was compassionate and caring as she looked down at her newly-discovered treasure. 

"But Mom ... I collect broken things."

She absolutely does.  I find them scattered in various obscure places around her room--constantly.  Broken hair clips, misplaced necklace beads, lost bird feathers, old shopping receipts, torn ribbons, fragmented sea shells, unattached buttons.  She considers them her treasures.  I consider them trash.

As I opened my mouth to respond to her, I was suddenly rendered speechless by her words.  It was at that moment I heard a gentle whisper in my spirit saying,

"I collect broken things, too."

Yes.  He does.  Just like my little girl.  The Lord sees.  He notices.  He seeks.  He picks up and He holds all which is broken. 

He does not ignore.  He does not discard.  He does not toss to the side.  He does not throw out.

At any given moment on any given day, we might find ourselves in great need of repair.  Our hearts have been broken, crushed by someone or something.  We feel certain our life is just one big pile of rubble, ready and waiting for the waste removal truck to haul it away.  But take heart...

When the pain is the greatest, the Lord is most present.

"The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Psalm 34:18

Thank you, Lord, for being so very close when we so very need it.  You restore and You heal. 

Thank you for being a collector of broken things.

Storytelling

Who doesn't love a good story?  Everyone does.  Right?  

It's why authors write novels.  It's why producers make movies.  It's why audiences buy tickets to Broadway shows.  It's why one generation recounts the past to the next. 

We all love a good story.  We all yearn to hear one.

Going to the library and returning with a huge stack of new books is one of my favorite things to do with my girls.  I love the feeling of having both of them nestled close to me on the couch or bed, eager to hear the first book read aloud to them.  These few, still moments together are a rich treasure--for them and for me.  As I open the cover and turn to read the first page, the magic unfolds as the story begins.  Characters are introduced.  Conflicts are identified.  The plot thickens.  A solution is found. 

Just last weekend, my husband and I went to see a newly-released movie at the theater.  After picking up the girls from their grandparents, they asked to hear all about the film we saw on the way home.  They clung to every word as I began narrating the details of the film.  Immediately, they were drawn into the characters' lives and the action that ensued.  They couldn't help it.  I was retelling a good story.

From the beginning of time, to the end of time, God has been telling us His story.  And He even used common, ordinary men to pen the words.  To record the details for all to read. 

There is a problem.  There is a villain.  There is conflict.  There is a Hero.  There is a resolution.  There is a final outcome.

Not only are we privileged to get to tell of and celebrate God's story, the unparalleled story of Himself, but we also get to be a part of it.  While He is ultimately the Author, the Director and the Producer, He invites us to be a part of the cast through a relationship with Him.  We get to play a role in the grandest and most famous story of all time, with the greatest themes of all time. 

Of love.  Of restoration.  Of redemption. 

As a result, we have the joy and responsibility to invite others to be a part of the production as well.  We can be storytellers, too.  We can conversate and dialogue, sharing with others the greatest story ever written, by the most renown Author of all time.

Listen, dear friends, to God's truth,

bend your ears to what I tell you.
I'm chewing on the morsel of a proverb;
I'll let you in on the sweet old truths,
Stories we heard from our fathers,
counsel we learned at our mother's knee.
We're not keeping this to ourselves,
we're passing it along to the next generation—
God's fame and fortune,
the marvelous things he has done.

Psalm 78:1-4 (The Message)

In our home, I am the calendar keeper.  The list writer.  The note taker.  The journaler.  The photographer.  The scrapbooker.  The blogger.

I am the one who records the events of our family.  It's my role to preserve what we've done, where we've been, what we've seen and experienced.  In fulfilling this, I create tangible reminders of our life as a family. 

I tell the story of us.  God's story through us.  The good and the bad.  The hard and the easy.  The mountains and the valleys.  The obstacles and the victories.

Wherever we are and whatever we're doing, my husband and I are making the effort to be intentional in seizing opportunities to tell our girls the great story of God and His Son, Jesus.  

Who is He?  What has He done for us?  How can we know Him?  How can we live for Him? 

In the words of our pastor spoken last Sunday, 

"Your life is a story. Whose story are you telling?"

Smart Phone Potential

My smart phone and I just recently marked our first year together.  We've had a good year.  She's still in one piece and I'm still grateful she's mine.

The sleek and shiny mini-computer was an unexpected, yet very much desired, birthday gift from my husband this time last September.  To say I was thrilled was an understatement the day we stopped to browse around the phone store, investigating the endless possibilities before us. 

After careful consideration, we selected the one I now carry with me.  As the salesman was preparing my phone for purchase, I listened intently as he began to convey to me the multitude of things I would be able to do with this new phone. 

I remember how incredibly lost I felt just turning it on for the first time.  So many buttons.  So many options.  So many places to go.  Everything was foreign and so new.  Just holding it up against my ear felt so strange.  So incredibly different from the standard flip phone I was used to holding in my hand.  Yet, I was eager to try it out.

Since it's been a good twelve months,  one might presume I have this small technological masterpiece figured out by now.  After all, I've had a year to play around with it, right?  But one might not understand that I'm no technological expert.  No ma'am.  No sir.  Not by a long shot.

Sure, I can make the standard phone call.  I can text.  I know how to take photos and videos.  I can post and upload to Facebook.  And I can access the Internet when I need to look up something or have a question that can only be answered by Google. 

But, I have yet to learn how to install a new app or even upload new music straight to my phone.  I can't download my pictures from memorable events to my home computer without assistance.  I don't even know how to utilize the GPS feature which would sure come in handy when I'm trying to navigate my way from one place to another. 

I constantly have to ask my technology-loving, technology-proficient husband how and where to locate things on my phone.  Bless his heart.  He understands so much.  I understand so little.  His exact same phone is loaded with a myriad of apps and he appears to use his phone to its maximum potential.  I don't.  I still have so much to learn. 

Which gets me thinking...

It would seem as if my smart phone and I have a lot in common. 

Similar to my phone, I am loaded with possibility and promise.  There's so much I am ultimately designed to be and do.  God has pre-programmed me with unimaginable potential.  It's how I was manufactured by His creative hands before my life ever began.  

Unfortunately, on most of my seemingly ordinary days, I don't feel I'm living up to the fullness of my design, just like me with my phone.  

Why is this?  

I believe a great deal has to do with apathy.  Some has to do with fear and intimidation.  And yet more has to do with my willingness, or unwillingness to surrender.  

Philippians 4:13 states that "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." 
John 15:5 reminds me that "...apart from Me (Christ) you can do nothing." 

As long as I continuously tap into the power of the Holy Spirit and rely solely upon Him, I can be and do all I was destined by God to be and do.  But without Him--apart from His leading and His presence--I can do nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

With that in mind, I think I'll continue to stretch myself with my phone--trying new things and attempting to utilize it to its maximum potential.  

Knowing it's been built for so much more, why would I want to settle for so much less?

Knocking Cancer Out of the Park

I can only imagine today was one of the most difficult and most challenging days yet for our precious friends, the House family.

This afternoon, six year old Brooks, underwent an extremely serious surgery to remove a cancerous tumor on his jawbone.  Back in June, Brooks was diagnosed with a rare bone cancer called Ewings Sarcoma and has been undergoing repeated rounds of chemotherapy to overcome this disease for the past three months.

(To get caught up with his story, read a previous post entitled, In the Storm.)

After an extensive, four-hour surgery today, the doctors were miraculously able to remove the tumor with clear margins, hopeful they eliminated all of the cancer from that area.  The bone graft was declared a success as well.  

Mom, Dad, big brother, Brady, and a multitude of family and friends, are currently rejoicing and lifting praises to God, their Helper and Healer in times of trouble.  Prayers have been heard and answered on behalf of Brooks and this sweet family.

"The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house (House family); yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the Rock."  Matthew 7:25

God, be praised for your presence, peace and comfort to the House family and especially to little Brooks today. We believe for continued healing in Brooks' body during the months to come.  Thank you for being the Rock, the firm place in the midst of storms in our lives. 

We ask that you give Brooks the ability and strength to knock this cancer out of the park, once and for all.  And as he crosses home plate, might we cheer and shout with joy, celebrating this amazing victory.  For your fame, God, and for your glory.  Amen.

One Month Down--So Much More to Go!

Well, it's official.  We've survived. 

The first month of our newest adventure--homeschooling here at Fort Academy, as we so affectionately call it--has come and gone. 

Who would have thought one year ago I'd be a homeschooling mom today?  Certainly not me. 

I admit I toyed with the idea eight years ago, when I left my full-time teaching position in a wonderful elementary school to become a stay-at-home mom.  But at most, it was a fleeting idea.  Honestly, I don't think I was ever truly serious about doing it.

Last January, that all changed when God started planting seeds in both my husband's mind and heart and mine to consider homeschooling.  I wrestled with the Lord about it for a couple of months, not sure I was ready and willing for such an enormous change in our family's life.  All the while, God continued to water those seeds because everything I heard, everything I thought, and everything I felt seemed to point in one direction--homeschooling.

I knew the choice to teach my girls at home would be a sacrifice.  I knew it would cause me to lose some things which had become somewhat important to me in the last year.  Mostly, I knew it would involve a lot of change, and instinctively, I balk at change.  I mean, when things seem to be going so well, why buck the system?  If it ain't broke, don't fix it.  Right?

But after much, much reading, much, much listening, and even much, much more prayer, I submitted to what my husband and I believed the Lord was leading us to do with our family at this time in our lives.  And strangely enough, the more I submitted, the more the desire to homeschool grew and blossomed within my heart. 

Today, I wouldn't have it any other way.  Seriously.  I mean it. 

The intimate time I get to spend with my girls is a treasure, time I won't ever get back this side of heaven.  Having the opportunity to hear their little hearts and talk about truths with them in a manner I feel I may have neglected in the past is such an honor.  Being the one imparting knowledge, assisting with assignments and encouraging their spirits is yet another gem I hold dear to my heart.  And of course, the teacher in me loves planning, preparing and seeing learning take place--everyday, any time of day. 

Because of all these things and so much more, I feel the most alive I've ever felt in my life.  The Lord is my passion.  My family is my passion.  Teaching is my passion.  Combine the three and it's like a combustible explosion going off inside my very own heart.

The Lord has been so gracious, allowing me the time to chew on all these changes and to live in His love, especially over the last month.  I am so grateful for His presence, His provision and His principles to practice and apply.

Even though I am technically the teacher here at home, I assure you I am most certainly the student.  I'm pretty confident I've learned immeasurably more than my girls probably have in the last month--mostly about dying to self, the importance of true encouragement, patience, forgiveness, consistency, perseverance, and mostly love. 

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love,

I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.  If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing..." 1 Corinthians 13:1-2

Will we always homeschool?  Who knows?  I'm only confident that homeschooling is the right choice for us during this season in our lives.  I don't want to spend the time or energy worrying about the future.  Instead, I'd rather be present to delight in this new adventure with my family.  Celebrating each new milestone.  Eager for more, so much more.

Follow the Leader

I jump up and down.  You jump up and down.
I twirl around in a circle.  You twirl around in a circle.
I hop on one foot.  You hop on one foot. 
I march in place.  You march in place.

Whatever I do, you do.  Follow the leader.  It's a great game.  Simple to understand.  Simple to play. 

The game appears to be the most fun though, for the leader, the one demonstrating what the others should be doing.  If you've ever watched young children play this game before, you know it doesn't take long before a coup is formed.  The leader is soon overthrown and inevitably replaced by a new one.  Everyone wants the chance to be the leader.  Few want to follow.

Recently, I have been struggling with the challenge of what it means to follow.  Particularly, to be an authentic follower of Jesus. 

Unfortunately, in the world today, it seems being "Christian" has been reduced to labeling someone who is not an atheist, a Muslim, Jew, Hindu, Buddhist, etc, instead of one "who is like Christ". 

In the evangelical church, a "Believer" is described as one who believes in his/her heart and mind and confesses with his/her mouth that Jesus is Lord, the risen Son of God. 

But, being a true "Follower" of Christ takes the relationship and the commitment even further.  It requires action.  It requires getting up and going.  Walking the walk, not just talking the talk.

• In the New Testament, Jesus instructed twelve men to "Come, follow me" and they did, becoming His disciples here on earth. 
• Repeatedly, large crowds demonstrated great faith when they followed Jesus wherever He went, seeking healing and hope. 
• Jesus declared if anyone wanted to be His disciple, he must deny himself, take up his cross (a symbol of torture and pain) and follow Him. 
• He told the young rich ruler to sell all his possessions, give to the poor and then he could follow Him. 
• He taught that since He is, in fact, the light of the world, no one who follows Him will walk in darkness. 
• Jesus declared His sheep will never follow a stranger because they know His voice. 
• In the book of John, Jesus states whoever serves Him must follow Him. 
• After His death, burial, resurrection, and ascension into Heaven, His true disciples were called Followers of the Way. 
• Toward the end of the New Testament, we are reminded by the apostle Peter to follow in His steps as we live our lives today. 

"Everyone wants to benefit from the cross, but no one wants to follow. Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die."

A guest pastor spoke these sentences last Sunday at my church.  His words slayed me when I first heard them, as they describe my heart at the present time.

Naturally, I prefer the benefits, the privileges, and the rewards from being in Christ versus the sacrifices, the hardships, and the suffering.  But to truly serve Him, I must follow Him.  It's crucial that I die to myself and take up my cross so I can follow hard after Him.

How will following Jesus manifest itself during this season in my life?  I'm not sure.  But because I love Him, it makes me want to follow Him.  Wherever He goes.  Whatever He does.  

So today, I'm willing. 
Willing to trust Him. 
Willing to join Him. 
Willing to be content, following the leader.