My editor at Crossway has just published a new book that sounds like a great blessing to the Body of Christ. Read about it here.

 I really enjoyed the excerpt I read on contentment in the valleys of life and am intrigued to read more.

Check it out!

Recently, I dropped my 1-year-old son off at church nursery. He wailed, despite the good care of the workers. When we went to pick him up, it was obvious he had made his peace with the caregivers. But when he got a glimpse of me through the window, his demeanor changed immediately—he must get to me RIGHT THEN. No obstacle could stop him. And he did it, making his escape and running into my arms before anyone could get in his way. It was quite sweet and affirming of my place in his heart.

I think of that scene when I read John 21.

4 Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the shore; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. 5 Jesus said to them, “Children, do you have any fish?” They answered him, “No.” 6 He said to them, “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in, because of the quantity of fish. 7 That disciple whom Jesus loved therefore said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his outer garment, for he was stripped for work, and threw himself into the sea. 8 The other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, but about a hundred yards off.

While the other disciples make a respectful return in the boat, Peter just jumps right into the water and swims/runs to Jesus. I get that! All was NOT well with Peter’s world. And I can imagine the moment for him—they had crucified his Lord. He had denied Jesus. And there the Savior was, standing on the shore. Peter’s response reflects his utter need for Jesus. “Jesus, I can’t do this on my own. I just denied You three times. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing now. I can’t even catch fish on my own. I’m sitting here fishing on this boat because I have no idea what else I’m supposed to be doing. I need You!” Like my son in nursery, nothing was getting in Peter’s way. In that moment, NOTHING else mattered. Getting to Jesus was number one priority.

I have moments in life when I imagine what it will be like to see Jesus face to face for the first time. It will be beautiful, and I envision that, like impetuous Peter, I’d stupidly jump into the water to get to Him, impatient for the time it takes to sail in the boat.

Envisioning that day sustains me quite often. Even so, Lord, come quickly!

My besetting sin is gluttony.  My god is often my belly, and I have little ability to discipline myself past it.  I’ve prayed and prayed for wisdom in dealing with this sin, especially for an outlet in which I can consistently exercise and steward my body.  One problem I have had is figuring out how to exercise while juggling my two young boys.  After a lot of trial and error, I stumbled across a cheap, local gym that offers childcare from 5-8 pm. 

I’ve attended this gym for a few months now, and my boys do moderately well in their childcare.  One lady in particular, Kathy, has been very helpful.  She watches kids twice a week at the gym.  Though confined to a wheel chair, she still has managed to help the boys pretty well.  Last week, I dropped the boys off with Kathy and headed to the restroom before working out.  Through the walls, I heard an altercation that included child-like shrieks and yelling.  By the time I got back to the childcare area, another mother was huffily removing her two boys from the area muttering that they didn’t have to put up with that.  Kathy told me that my three year old had hit the boys, slapping one of them in the face.  I was horrified.  Embarassed.  Ashamed.  I grabbed up my offspring and drug him after me to find the boys he had hit.  I asked their mom if he could apologize to each.  He did say he was sorry in a broken, 3 year old kind of way.  And the other mom reluctantly let her boys return to childcare.  I stayed in the childcare area for a few minutes to make sure my son wasn’t going to assault the others and finally left to workout, apologizing personally to the other mom on my way. 

As I walked on the treadmill in the gym, I wanted to cry.  I was trying SO HARD!  I had prayed for a way to exercise, and I thought this gym was an answer from God.  And now my boys are hitting other kids.  I had apologized to the other mom, but she only half-heartedly recognized my attempt.  I felt like a loser mom.  There was no way I could continue at this gym like this.  They all thought my boys were hooligans, and I was sure they braced themselves for the worst whenever they saw us walk through the door.

After exercising as long as my diminished emotional state could tolerate, I walked back to the childcare area to pick up my boys.  The 2 boys that my oldest had hit told me in a very cute way that my boys had been good during the time I exercised.  And then Kathy looked at me and told me that I had handled that altercation very well.  I had handled it well!  For 30 minutes on the treadmill, I had contemplated my failure as a mom and my humiliation at the gym.  I had wrestled with God over the fact that I was trying to be faithful with my health, but how could I continue at the gym if my son was assaulting other kids?!  So Kathy’s sincere words stunned me.  I wasn’t expecting that.  I think I mumbled some form of thanks, but thought later that my response wasn’t sufficient for what her words meant to me, and maybe I ought to write her a note.  Her little encouragement moved me from feeling like a condemned pariah to having hope that I could raise my boys to love God and love others despite such disciplinary crises. 

We went back to the gym this week, expecting to see Kathy, as it was her usual night.  After waiting a while, one of the workers walked over and asked me if I had heard about Kathy.  Apparently, she was found unconscious in her apartment last week and died shortly thereafter.  I couldn’t figure out the timeline exactly, but it sounds like it was very shortly after I had last talked to her at the gym. 

And today, I contemplate a life lived well from a wheel chair.  A life with a relatively small area of influence in terms of square footage.  Like Jesus, she didn’t seem to travel too much beyond her immediate locale–her apartment, the gym, and the church next door.  But I could tell from talking with the worker at the gym, Kathy’s influence had been profound.  I remember observing Kathy one night when I didn’t bring my boys to the gym.  She didn’t have any other kids, and she was reading a small New Testament she must have kept in her pocket.  My impression of her was that she loved the Word, was available to those who needed her, and was willing to offer a word of encouragement to the hurting. 

So I mourn today this sweet, faithful lady.  I’m sorry I didn’t get to articulate to her exactly what her encouragement meant to me in that moment.  But I envision the hearty “Well done thou good and faithful servant” she received as she entered God’s presence, freed from her wheelchair, and I am inspired by her quiet, local, faithful example. 

If I’ve done it once, I’ve done it a thousand times.  “I’m sorry for [whatever], but you [had it coming] …”. 

I pretend to confess and repent of a sin against someone, but instead of stopping with my confession, I add a justification of my actions at the end.  To be frank—that simply is NOT repentance.  Instead, I’m trying to give a reason for my anger/bitterness/insensitivity or whatever it was that I did.  But repentance is recognizing that my hurtful statements were wrong.  Period.  I don’t ever have justification for sinning against another. 

Personally, my justifications usually come from one of two basic points of views. 

1) You hurt me first. 

And maybe the other person really did hurt me.  The problem is that I am called to be like Jesus.  Jesus–who endured the worst at the hands of men without ever sinning against them in return.  I must overcome evil with good (Romans 12:21).  There is never justification for returning evil with evil. 

2) I was having a bad day. 

I justify myself because I was tired, sick, or upset about some legitimate problem.  But, once again, Jesus is my example, and though He was tempted in all ways like we are, He did not use it as an excuse to sin (Hebrews 4:15).  Women might say, “But He never had PMS.”  I agree, but He certainly experienced physical and hormonal changes (like 40 days fasting in the wilderness or six hours nailed to a cross with only vinegar to drink) that would apply even more physical/emotional/hormonal pressure than the average bout of PMS.  Jesus can fully identify with our temptations to sin.  He can also fully equip us to overcome them without sin. 

I was convicted of my attempts to wiggle out of conviction by this statement on C. J. Mahaney’s blog. 

“When I have sinned against someone, a sincere confession is required. A confession that is sincere and pleasing to God will be specific and brief. I have learned to be suspicious of my confession if it’s general and lengthy. A sincere confession of sin should be specific (“I was arrogant and angry when I made that statement; will you please forgive me for sinning against you in this way?”) and brief (this shouldn’t take long). When I find myself adding an explanation to my confession, I’m not asking forgiveness but instead appealing for understanding.”

Wow—how true!!  And how convicting!!

You can find the rest of the article here.

Here are a few thoughts on walking with a loved one through a season of pain. 

1) There is a time to mourn.  There is a time to weep.  Ecc. 3:4

Some day in the future, there may be a time for advice or a time to try to cheer up.  But respect the time to mourn.  Weep with those who weep.  I have noticed when I am seriously hurting, there are some people that I just can’t have around because their response is to either give advice or try to distract me from my pain.  Instead, I have to walk through my pain, and I treasure those who have the love and patience to walk with me. 

2)  Be quiet. 

Listen.  Don’t talk.  I don’t mean that we need to remain mute when coming alongside the hurting, but take seriously James 1:19, “let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.”  When your hurting friend speaks, you listen.  You listen well and ask follow up questions.  You don’t redirect the conversation away from your hurting friend and toward yourself.  If your friend needs to talk through their pain, listen. 

3)  Don’t pretend the pain doesn’t exist. 

This is particularly important when it comes to the death of a loved one.  Don’t ignore the person who passed on in an effort to distract your friend.  They are missing their loved one, and you can’t ignore them anymore than a big white elephant standing in the room.  I remember meeting at a restaurant the parents of a friend who had died unexpectedly a few weeks before.  We all talked like nothing had ever happened, and I regret to this day that I ignored the elephant in the room.  I wish I had said simply, “I am so sorry for your loss,” and then given them a hug.  I, of course, had no idea what to say.  But I realize now that saying NOTHING was even worse.

If your friend just lost her child, let her show you the hand made blanket she wrapped him in.  If she’s having problems getting pregnant, love her enough to check on her about that specifically.  If her father died unexpectedly, don’t avoid mentioning the beauty of the deck he was building for her before he died.  Whatever the situation, don’t feel you have to do acrobatics to avoid the elephant in the room.   If talking about their loved one fits the occasion, then do it. 

3)  When the time comes, speak the truth with love.

Support and encourage your loved one with the truth of God.  But remember that speaking truth alone is not necessarily loving.  If that were the case, Paul would have no need in Ephesians 4 to exhort us to both speak the truth AND speak lovingly.  So point your friend to the character of God in loving ways.  The way you say things and the empathy you show have power to minister grace to your loved one according to Paul’s instructions on language at the end of Ephesians 4.  In times of pain, there is hope in the fact that God is sovereign and in control.  But there is also questioning and pain.  Wrestle with your loved one as they struggle with the sovereignty of God in the midst of their painful circumstances.  Don’t cop out with easy answers. 

I hope that is helpful food for thought.  I don’t claim to be an expert on this by any means, but these are ideas that have been on my mind through times of my own pain. 

At what age do you cross the line from being a swinging single with (often naive) notions of finding the man of your dreams to a world-weary veteran of singleness?

How do you find joy and peace in singleness after the death of your youthful assumptions of how your life would look at this stage?

Several women asked for teaching on these questions in the surveys from the women’s retreat at Semiahmoo this month. While a half-day teaching from a year ago won’t completely answer the burdens and concerns mentioned in the surveys, we want to highlight what is already available on this subject for those who may have missed it.

Maturity in Singleness, part 1
Deacon Amy Lockman discusses the emotional, physical and spiritual battles faced by single women who are over 30 (or close to it!) and what a biblical response to these pressures looks like.

Maturity in Singleness, part 2
Wendy Alsup, deacon of Women’s Theology, speaks on the importance of being in community with women in varying stages of life.

Agenda Wendy. This is the name my husband calls me when I get in my agenda mode.

Agenda: a list, plan, outline, or the like, of things to be done, matters to be acted or voted upon.

Agenda Wendy has a plan. Something occurred to her that would be a really good thing to do. There’s nothing wrong with that. But then woe to the obstacle that gets in Agenda Wendy’s way. Agenda Wendy becomes singularly focused on her agenda and either runs over or resents anyone who gets in her way. Agenda Wendy doesn’t appreciate interruptions.

Here’s the problem with Agenda Wendy. One-she assumes that all reasonable people will value her agenda as she does. Two-she views interruptions as barriers to God’s sovereign purposes (i. e. her agenda) rather than His purposes themselves. Here’s what Agenda Wendy is learning.

1) I need to stop and listen to interruptions. Many important lessons of Jesus were started with “interruptions”. Young men interrupting Jesus’ teaching by lowering their paralyzed friend from the roof. A woman interrupting His journey by touching the hem of His robe for healing.

2) God is sovereign over my interruptions. Barriers to my agenda aren’t out of God’s control. They aren’t sneaky Satanic ploys to distract me from my good plan. The interruptions ARE God’s plan.

3) I need to listen to opposing agendas and not resent those who don’t share mine. Often my husband doesn’t share my vision. After discussing, I realize we are often on the same page on the BIG IDEA but we differ on the specifics of how to carry it out. I need to listen seriously to his differing view and not resent him for holding it.

Agenda Wendy is making strides. She is learning to take off her Agenda cape and listen to those around her. She is learning that she is not the only person out there with good ideas and that those affected by her agenda ought to have input into it. Most of all, she is learning that God is in control of the interruptions and to look for His hand in them.

One of our Refem authors shared this video with me a few weeks ago. I am VERY skeptical of such theatrics. But it moved me from skepticism to tearful meditation on all that Christ has done for me. I share it with you, crying even now as I listen to the song again. I trust it will move you to think on Him as well.

“How can I stand here with You and not be moved by You?”

Okay. Don’t laugh. But this is my stage of life. No more blockbuster hits for me. No critically acclaimed dramas. Instead, as the mother of 2 young boys who love Pixar films, I find myself watching Finding Nemo numerous times of late. However, despite the 2-10 year old intended audience, I find it oddly compelling. In fact, there are several scenes in it that speak to me-reflecting my own mental battles with God over my children. I can identify with Marlin, Nemo’s dad. He’s lost his wife and other children in a violent tragedy that leaves him obsessed with Nemo’s safety. He’s fearful, and rightfully so. But his obsession with Nemo’s safety drives Nemo to an immature act of rebellion. Marlin has provoked his child to wrath.

The rest of the story is Marlin’s heroic efforts to get Nemo back and the odd group of marine life that helps him along the way. The climactic moment, at least to me, is the scene in which Marlin and Dori, his sidekick, are stuck in the whale. It’s a poignant moment in which Marlin comes face to face with his fears and the ineffectiveness of his obsessive methods for protecting Nemo. The whale becomes a God-like figure.

MARLIN
We’re in a whale! Don’t you get it!? . ‘Cause you had to ask for help! And now we’re stuck here!

DORY
Well, you can’t never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him. Not much fun for little Harpo.

And then it looks like the whale is about to digest them. It becomes obvious that Marlin has allowed his fears to keep him from trusting those who are best able to help him. He always expects the worst and keeps shooting himself in the foot accordingly .

MARLIN
What’s going on?

DORY
I don’t!

Then Marlin lets go, the whale spurts them out his blowhole, and they find themselves in the Sydney harbor-the very place they wanted to be. Of course, this doesn’t come across nearly as poignant when reading a transcript. But every time I watch this scene, I see myself, desperate to hang on to control and utterly convinced that if I don’t fix my mess myself, I’m utterly lost. I always expect the worst of others. Then there comes this point where my attempts to fix things-to correct my own mistakes or protect others from the same-crumble in my hands and fall through my fingers. My best efforts fall miserably short of the goal of fixing my problems and protecting my loved ones. Instead of a whale, it is the Sovereign God of the Universe who calls on me to trust Him. While Marlin’s savior in that moment only helps him through that particular phase of his journey, my Savior promises to never leave me and to thoroughly equip me for each test, trial, and temptation I face. But I must come to that moment in which I let go even though I don’t know the outcome. I let go of my control and fall into the arms of God’s grace. I don’t know how it’s going to work out, but in my free fall, I know that God is in control, He has the power to convict men of sin, and any positive change in other’s hearts or my circumstances is ultimately because God chose to work.

Letting go when I don’t know the immediate outcome is a difficult but necessary act of faith in God-especially where my children are concerned. God understands this-just think how many of Scripture’s pivotal stories revolve around parents and their children. Dealing with fears that you’ll never have children (Abraham, Sarah, Hannah). Giving up your children in sacrifice to God (Abraham and Isaac, Hannah and Samuel). Children who break their parent’s heart through rebellion (David and Absalom, Jacob and his sons who turned on Joseph). Fine if God wants to use me for His purposes-but trusting Him with my children tests my faith in a new and intense way.

I am learning as a relatively new mom that I am powerless to control all the factors that affect my children. But I know the One who can and does, and He is the best of Fathers.

Psalm 62:8 Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.