I shouldn't be surprised by how God works, but after 38 years of walking with Christ, I am consistently amazed that He is so present in my life. When I feel so badly about myself, or my parenting skills, or whatever it is that has me down, He never leaves me. He is right there with me, just where he promised to be. "And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:20.
I have a friend named Robin. We have made an agreement in recent months to hold one another accountable and to pray for one another. In the midst of my no good, very bad day yesterday I texted her to ask her how she was doing and to let her know I had just prayed for her. She replied briefly that she was fine and we'd chat later.
Today she sent me a long note detailing how I must've been praying at precisely the right time. She needed to feel God's presence and I was able to reassure her that in that moment I was lifting her up to our Father in heaven, who loves her (and me!) so much more than we can think or even imagine. It's such a simple testimony to His love for us and His faithfulness. He is with us always. Always!
I shared with Robin some of the struggles we'd been facing lately, and asked her to pray for us.
First I had a huge problem at work. It was a blow to me personally as well as professionally. But I dealt with it. We prayed our way through it and hung in there.
Then I started getting traffic tickets. I know that sounds unusual. It is. I am 44 and had never been in an accident up to this point. I'd only gotten a few traffic tickets in my driving career, and then they were very few and far between. In a span of 2 weeks, I was looking at 3 citations, 1 accident, and a total fine of nearly $500 for all combined.
OK....I admit I was getting a bit skeptical. If this is Satan trying to drag me down, it's working. I know that he cannot do anything to a believer without getting permission from God. So I tell myself that God is allowing all this. OK, fine. Not sure what the message is, but I'm a bit ticked. I don't get it. I'm working as much as I can, our family barely gets to go to church due to my work schedule and 2 piece o'crap vehicles, and now this. Right before Christmas. I admit --- I thought that God was NOWHERE in sight in the midst of all this. He's off helping Franklin Graham raise millions for orphans in Uganda, or helping Beth Moore write another best selling Bible study. But here in New Orleans with the South family, who'd given up everything, moved to a violent city, and now sat here nearly broke with Christmas approaching.....I didn't see Him in this picture. And then the final straw? The van died. On the way home from school, it died. I admit I had a moment (more like an entire evening) where I could totally identify with Job's wife. I just did NOT get it.
This morning, Robin pointed me to a message from a missions conference she'd just attended with her husband. I watched the entire thing, tears in my eyes through most of it, as God gently and lovingly reminded me of the call that He placed on our lives in January of 2005. Paul and I knew that God had spoken to us, He had laid His hand on our hearts and told us in no uncertain terms that we were to go. Not knowing what that meant, we surrendered. We sold our house, packed our belongings, and moved to a still shaky and uncertain post-Katrina New Orleans for seminary. It seemed the logical place to start.
4 years later, with multiple changes that have taken place in our family, we were quite honestly beginning to question that call. I was back to work, we'd added a 3rd child to our family, we'd quit homeschooling and put the boys in school....our lives looked dramatically different than it did when we came here. "How could this be what God wanted for us", we'd ask one another often. We didn't have the answer. No one did.
And then Robin sent me that link. Walker Moore. He may have spoken to a group of pastors in Arkansas before Thanksgiving, but today he spoke to a skeptical woman sitting in her 800 square foot seminary apartment, ready to throw in the towel and quit.
No, I correct that: it wasn't Walker Moore. It was our Almighty God speaking through a man who had himself surrendered his life to God's work. And it's all it took to reignite the passion that God placed in *me* some 15 years ago. And it reminded me of the feeling of complete peace that Paul and I had as we walked to the front of our church in Biloxi, on January 1, 2006, and told Chip Stevens and our entire church family that we would go where God wanted us to go, and we would do what God wanted us to do. We believed that with all our hearts then, and I believe it now.
And then, from way back in the portion of my brain that stores all those Scriptures I've memorized over the years came a familiar, loved verse....
"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it." (Isaiah 30:21)
Perhaps I'd gotten too busy. Maybe I've tuned him out with children, TV, radio, washing machines and dishwashers. I've gone to work and listened to monitors and babies cry and IV pumps....but I didn't listen for Him. The noise of the world had drowned Him out. But He hasn't budged. Hasn't gone anywhere. He is right here, speaking to me and to Paul, and even to Tucker, Griffin, and Anne Claire; He's getting them prepared for the job that is marked for our family---the one for eternal purposes with our name on it.
No, He hasn't gone anywhere. "And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:20.
Chaos
Do you ever feel like things are just falling apart all around you?
Just when I think that things can't possibly go more awry, they do. I find myself so overwhelmed that I am not sure what the proper response is....do I laugh, because the calamity has just gotten too out of control? Do I cry, because I don't see a light at the end of the tunnel?
My wise husband says to just pray. And so I do, and I'll continue to do so, until God makes some sort of sense out of a very senseless world....
Just when I think that things can't possibly go more awry, they do. I find myself so overwhelmed that I am not sure what the proper response is....do I laugh, because the calamity has just gotten too out of control? Do I cry, because I don't see a light at the end of the tunnel?
My wise husband says to just pray. And so I do, and I'll continue to do so, until God makes some sort of sense out of a very senseless world....
Griffin
Six years, 2 months, and 12 days. That's how old Griffin was yesterday. And it's how old he was when he made a decision that millions of people all over the globe will never make. He decided to follow Jesus.
He'd been asking questions for weeks now. Sometimes we'd have deep discussions about Heaven and sin and God. Sometimes he'd just ask a quick question, as if it were an afterthought. He is, after all, six.
But last night he said he wanted to pray. To say the prayer. The prayer that would make him forever a Christian. So in the simple language of a little boy, he admitted that he was a sinner, he said he believed that Jesus was God's son and that Jesus died on the cross for his every sin, and he asked Jesus to live in his heart forever, promising to live for Jesus.
Today, he woke up a new boy. No, his behavior is no different. He is still fighting with his brother and teasing his sister. He still wants to eat brownies for breakfast and pretend to be a ninja. But his heart has changed. If he (God forbid) took his last breath tonight, he would be immediately in the presence of Jesus, safe in His arms for eternity.
What a sweet, sweet thought. What relief as a mother to know that the most important decision he ever had to make has been made.
Birthdays...
Anne Claire made 3 this past week. I cannot believe that my baby is 3. She is speaking in more complete sentences. She is potty trained. For the first time in more than 8 years the South family no longer has to purchase diapers, pull ups, or wipes. That in itself is reason to celebrate! This year we spent way too much on the kids birthdays, but I think I've come to a conclusion: birthdays ARE a day to celebrate big. We have, in the past, made a smaller deal of birthdays but a wise person I know mentioned to me one day that birthdays are the day that God ordained for this little person to come into the world. When He created light and stars and rivers and every little thing that moves, He knew when my babies would be conceived and born, just as He already knows when they will take their last breath. His word says that we are "fearfully and wonderfully made" and calls us "blessed" to have children. I think our purpose in having children is to further the plans and the kingdom of God. So why not celebrate BIG when birthdays come around?
After all, we really are blessed.
Changing times....
How fast time flies, and how quickly things change! So much has happened in our family since Easter of this year. Our family went through some difficult --downright traumatic-- events which has left me still a bit mind-numb and a little depressed, but I am determined to march onward. The boys have started school (!!!) which has left me and Anne Claire alone during the day. We are still struggling to find our way without them, but we are enjoying the girl time. So far we have only managed to snuggle a lot and watch a lot of movies, but hopefully with time we'll figure out a schedule that will have me actually cleaning the house, which is in massive need of attention.
Tucker is in 3rd grade this year. He just turned 8 and is too smart for his own good. We are proud of him -- incredibly proud. He loves school. LOVES it. He is awake before anyone else, is always dressed and on most days, you'll find him urging the rest of us to hurry up so he isn't late.
Griffin turned 6 and is a kindergartner this year. He wasn't fond of the idea of not home schooling, and for the first month was often overheard saying "but we've been going to school FOREVER" when told that yes, he had school today and no, it wasn't time for school to be finished for the year. However, a few friends and 2 really wonderful teachers (props to Mrs. Summitt and Mrs. Ralston!!) have made the difference for our little Chi-Chi.
We chose to send them to Isidore Newman. It is a Jewish private school here in New Orleans. We did a lot of searching prior to making our decision. We were looking at academics, of course. Tucker read the brochure and was sold as soon as he read that Peyton and Eli Manning were among the list of distinguished alumni. It is an amazing place. Both Paul and I said the same thing the first time we went on campus...."I'd have LOVED to have gone to school here." The only Newman complaint comes from Anne Claire, who cries every time we pull away from the curb every morning...."I go to Newman, too!!!"
Paul is still in seminary. Another year left and he will be finished with another degree and prayerfully a new job! We plan to stay right here in the Crescent City and make New Orleans our home (unless of course God shows us a different path).
So yes, times have changed, but we are still here, still laughing (and crying), still eating beignets (and seafood and gumbo and red beans...), and still chasing after whatever it is that God has put us here for. Please continue to pray for us!
Tucker is in 3rd grade this year. He just turned 8 and is too smart for his own good. We are proud of him -- incredibly proud. He loves school. LOVES it. He is awake before anyone else, is always dressed and on most days, you'll find him urging the rest of us to hurry up so he isn't late.
Griffin turned 6 and is a kindergartner this year. He wasn't fond of the idea of not home schooling, and for the first month was often overheard saying "but we've been going to school FOREVER" when told that yes, he had school today and no, it wasn't time for school to be finished for the year. However, a few friends and 2 really wonderful teachers (props to Mrs. Summitt and Mrs. Ralston!!) have made the difference for our little Chi-Chi.
We chose to send them to Isidore Newman. It is a Jewish private school here in New Orleans. We did a lot of searching prior to making our decision. We were looking at academics, of course. Tucker read the brochure and was sold as soon as he read that Peyton and Eli Manning were among the list of distinguished alumni. It is an amazing place. Both Paul and I said the same thing the first time we went on campus...."I'd have LOVED to have gone to school here." The only Newman complaint comes from Anne Claire, who cries every time we pull away from the curb every morning...."I go to Newman, too!!!"
Paul is still in seminary. Another year left and he will be finished with another degree and prayerfully a new job! We plan to stay right here in the Crescent City and make New Orleans our home (unless of course God shows us a different path).
So yes, times have changed, but we are still here, still laughing (and crying), still eating beignets (and seafood and gumbo and red beans...), and still chasing after whatever it is that God has put us here for. Please continue to pray for us!
What's so good about Friday?
Tucker was looking at my calendar and asked me what Good Friday was. I told him that it is the day that Jesus died. As I said it, I was prepared for his next question....."why is it called 'good' when something so sad happened?"
When I think of Jesus in Gethsemane, my heart practically aches. The Bible records Jesus' words as "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death." Luke says that Jesus prayed so hard that his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. Jesus asked His father to "take this cup from me", knowing what was to come. Yet he added "not as I will, but as you will." He knew what he had come for, and was willing to do whatever was required.
As Jesus endured the humiliation and the pain of the beating, the scourging, and the brutal, horrific act of crucifixion, his sinless soul took on the sins of every human being. Past, present, and future. And not just the "big stuff." Little things like ingratitude, prayerlessness, unconcern for the lost, a critical spirit, hypocrisy, envy, anger, jealousy, gossip, pride.
So what is so "good" about that?
Because it should have been me. It should have been you. But he loved us *so* much that he didn't want us to endure it. So he made a way for us. An "out", if you will. That kind of love is difficult to comprehend. As a parent, I can see a glimpse of that love. I would do anything in my power to spare my children from pain or heartache. But if my children hated me, despised me and turned their back on me and called me names, denied my very existence....would I still be willing to suffer and die for them?
I think of people that choose not to believe that Jesus is the Son of God, sent from heaven above to offer us peace, direction, purpose, and a plan. (Not to mention the unspeakable gift of life forevermore!) I wonder if they deny him because they simply cannot fathom that kind of love?
On Friday I will reflect back on that day that Jesus endured the cross for me. And I will undoubtedly cry tears of thankfulness that it didn't have to be me. Tears of sorrow that Jesus had to take it all on himself.
That, my friend, is what is so good about Friday.
When I think of Jesus in Gethsemane, my heart practically aches. The Bible records Jesus' words as "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death." Luke says that Jesus prayed so hard that his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. Jesus asked His father to "take this cup from me", knowing what was to come. Yet he added "not as I will, but as you will." He knew what he had come for, and was willing to do whatever was required.
As Jesus endured the humiliation and the pain of the beating, the scourging, and the brutal, horrific act of crucifixion, his sinless soul took on the sins of every human being. Past, present, and future. And not just the "big stuff." Little things like ingratitude, prayerlessness, unconcern for the lost, a critical spirit, hypocrisy, envy, anger, jealousy, gossip, pride.
So what is so "good" about that?
Because it should have been me. It should have been you. But he loved us *so* much that he didn't want us to endure it. So he made a way for us. An "out", if you will. That kind of love is difficult to comprehend. As a parent, I can see a glimpse of that love. I would do anything in my power to spare my children from pain or heartache. But if my children hated me, despised me and turned their back on me and called me names, denied my very existence....would I still be willing to suffer and die for them?
I think of people that choose not to believe that Jesus is the Son of God, sent from heaven above to offer us peace, direction, purpose, and a plan. (Not to mention the unspeakable gift of life forevermore!) I wonder if they deny him because they simply cannot fathom that kind of love?
On Friday I will reflect back on that day that Jesus endured the cross for me. And I will undoubtedly cry tears of thankfulness that it didn't have to be me. Tears of sorrow that Jesus had to take it all on himself.
That, my friend, is what is so good about Friday.
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