Mindy was asked, “What is God teaching you as you train your children at home? What are the joys or frustrations?” Here’s her answer.

I have had the privilege of having a friend of mine love on my babes once a week for me to 1) get a break, 2) run errands with no kids and 3) get a break.  After week two of this schedule, I had to just tell her what an incredible help and blessing this was to me.

The conversation went something like this: I said, “This has been so good for me to get a break and run errands, I cannot thank you enough on how this blesses me.”  

She said, “Oh I am so thankful that it is working out, I enjoy it so much and it is a great time of worship for me.”  I started to laugh, but quickly realized she was serious.  

When she left and I had a moment to think of what craziness she was just talking, I could not help but ask the question: “she was with my kids for 5 hours this morning and she was worshiping?”  

That same day while my wee ones were napping, I prayed.”I am encouraged by her, Jesus. I have never ever ever thought that being with my kids was worshipful, so please show me how that works exactly.”  Both kids woke up, and I was ready to worship!  

Apparently they weren’t.  One would not let me be anywhere but in the kitchen with him in my arms, while the other was pulling on my leg as she realized her pants were wet from a soggy pull up. One wanted to have a snack outside the other wanted a bath, they both wanted some crackers for a snack, we were out of crackers. Get the gist? I thought for a moment that maybe my worship as a parent was supposed to be when they were asleep. That afternoon continued in that same format and when my husband came home and asked how the day was, I responded “it was an afternoon of attempted worship.”  Then I fell to the couch in my typical laughing that turns to crying and then laughing more as tears kept coming down my face.

Fast Forward to a month later:

Some good friends went out of town for two days and we got to love on their twin 3 year old girls. So we had the twins, my 5 year old girl, and 3 year old boy AND our house-mate’s 2.5 year old daughter.  The kids out numbered the total of parents in the house, YIKES!  The twins came over about 7:30 a.m. and by 9:30 a.m., we had played dress up, eaten breakfast, done play-dough, ridden bikes outside and had done coloring.  AND IT WAS ONLY 9:30 AM! “What is the rest of the day going to look like?”  We did exercises, made a a hop-scotch, climbed trees, drew with chalk, ate snacks, rode more bikes, played pretend coffee shop, read books, danced to silly songs, ate lunch and by 1:00 pm the house was still and quiet with them all napping.  

Now, all that play sounds fun and delightful but there were numerous time-outs with noses against the wall. “Please don’t throw the plastic high heel at your sister!” “That is not loving to steal food when someone turns to look the other way.” “That is the second time I have asked you not to run over your brother with a bike, you are not obeying my words.” “Look me in the eyes and tell me you are sorry for throwing the bucket at my head.”  

But at nap time when all was still I thought, “I think I just did it. I think I just was worshiping while parenting!! Lord, could this be what it is like?”  It was an incredible feeling.  My mind slowly recognized a few things.  I was loving 5 kids today. There was a lot of action here today, and still more to come … AND it was delightful.  I had nothing else on my plate today — in other words, I never checked my email or called anyone, which is not a typical day for me.  Kids had fun, I had fun, they were loved, I felt loved … and I do believe Jesus was glorified and I was worshiping! I cried and then it turned into a laugh thinking of how long I have longed to be so full of love for kids and worshipful to Jesus. I cried harder and laughed harder, too.

 Romans 12:1 — “I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”

So the questions I am left with as I sit today with my two kids on the couch, laptop in my lap and phone on my hip are these:

What am I requiring of myself and where is that not lining up with what God is requiring of me?  

What part of my “typical” day ends up being my god that I worship? (my phone, my email, my friends)  

My husband said to me once, “All I ask of you is to read your Bible and love our kids.”  How can that play out practically?  What can that look like?  

How can I practice the presence of God in every inch of my day?  

And how do you do it? 

Dear RTF reader,

September was a good month. I know it was. I wanted to bring you an uplifting report from newlywed land combined with some epic story of fighting against all odds to triumph victoriously at the foot of the cross, like I’m sure other married couples have relayed. Still wrestling with tangled balls of thought and snippets of memory at 6:00 this morning, staring at a wall we never hung pictures on - blank white walls irritate both of us - I waited to remember that one time when we were amazing.

Thirty minutes into my wrestling, a mostly asleep husband reached around and pulled me closer to his chest. His breath was warm against the back of my neck and the weight of his arm resting on mine broke into my thoughts.

Why does it have to be epic (my new favorite word)?

Because it is more engaging, of course! Do you not remember Lord of the Rings?

What about honest, humble and possibly even a bit vulnerable?

But what if no one can relate to that!?! Hmmm…Um, never mind.

It’s true. These first several months of marriage, while full of transition, have not necessarily consisted of giant strides toward holiness, but something resembling tiny lessons in humility, and a continual stream of evidences of God’s grace - not unlike the ways Christ taught us in singleness. I am grateful to relay that Christ is still actively working in our lives and marriage, despite my delusions of greatness and odd conversations with myself.

September’s evidences of grace:

• Perry shares what he’s been learning from Harold Best’s “Unceasing Worship” and takes the following 30 minutes to discuss it with me when I don’t understand.

“Love is patient, love is kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude…” 1 Cor 13:4

• We fight heated, but on one occasion, resist bringing out past faults and are able to come to a resolution, though we still do not agree.

“In your anger, do not sin; when you are on your beds, search your heart and be silent.” Psalm 4:4

• He urges me to spend the afternoon with a hurting friend, rather than demanding my time and attention.

• He initiates a run in the morning before work one morning, because he knows it starts my day off well and we both desire to be healthy for ourselves and each other.

“My beloved is radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand.” Song of Solomon 5:10

• I leave my hair straightener on the bathroom sink for the sixth time in a row, and instead of getting frustrated, he gives me time to remember and put it away.

“…[Love] does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful…” 1 Cor 13:4

• We change Mars Hill campuses and watch as Christ connects us to new ministry and new friendships.

• We recognize exhaustion in each other’s eyes after a long day at work, and instead of forcing the other to meet needs or be productive, we both extend grace and go to bed early. The laundry can wait. (this was yesterday)

“However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.” Eph 5:33

• He calls me out on selfishness, and gently leads me back to repentance.

“Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.” Eph 5:25-28

Yes, September was a very good month.

Today Liz Pak shares about her son Simon’s early birth.

 DAY 1
 
John 17: 1 When Jesus had spoken these words, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, “Father, the hour has come.”

The clothes have not been washed, the baby shower still two weeks away.  I pack the hospital bag and lay out my baby’s sheets still fresh from the dryer.  A bleary eyed friend arrives; I whisper good-bye to my still slumbering toddler and we dash to the hospital.
 
Father, you have chosen this day for my baby’s birth. Help me to trust in your perfect timing, for his life as well as mine.

DAY 3
 
John 17:1-2 Glorify the Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him

I am officially discharged from the hospital but my baby is not.  We stand and watch him batting at the blindfold over his eyes, his little hand bandaged to an IV, bright lights baking his jaundiced skin. I ache to nurse my baby and hold him close but the doctors and nurses say not yet.
 
Lord, bless these people watching over our child. Guide their hands and hearts; give them discernment to know what is best. Give me patience and strength to trust them and trust You with our little boy. Let me rest in your sovereignty

DAY 5
 
John 17:3 And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.

My little man is not eating; the nurse lays the dreaded feeding tube next to his incubator. Will he ever come home? Someone drops by a meal; after community group and helping a friend move, we rush to put our daughter to bed before I have to be back at the hospital for the next feed.
 
Lord, thank you for Your strength. Thank you for people to help us and for enabling us to help other people. Thank you for our family in Christ, as we grow with them we grow also in You.

DAY 9
 
John 17:4-5 I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence, with the glory that I had with you before the world existed.

The wires and tubes have slowly gone away and now my baby sleeps in an open crib. We wait with impatient hearts as the doctor looks over the charts and writes the final discharge. I breathe a sigh of relief as our family walks through the exit; my baby breathes fresh air for the first time.
 
Lord, thank you for enabling us to do the work you set before us. Thank you for giving us joy and peace for 9 days when we could not look to anything but you. Thank you for bringing us home. Thank you for Simon Jude, born August 28th, 2008 

I was emailing a friend this week, and I actually burst out laughing when I typed that.  It was like seeing truth in a new light, and I couldn’t help myself.  It caused me to reflect on all the healing that Jesus had effected in my life, because three little words can change your life.  Remember the most famous?  ”It is finished.”  (John 19:30).

In a twisted simile with the same connotation, 3 little words changed my life forever following a confrontation with my husband after exposing his extramarital affair.  A fairly new Christian, I remember sitting on my knees on the bed, thinking, ”I can’t believe how much worse life has gotten since I gave my life to Jesus!”  Minutes later, 3 little words from my beloved’s lips would haunt me for a very long time.  I will never forget the tone, the pitch, the pause, the delivery, the articulation. 

The answer.

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

(four second pause)

“No.  I don’t.”

Everything was slow motion, so it wasn’t like feeling an immediate, vicious puncture wound.  The incision through my heart was premeditated; a slow, deliberate slash.  Almost methodical.  But it was a dagger gash.  Messy.  Very messy for my children and I.  The words would wash in an out like the tide, for a long time.  

Fast forward.  Separation.  Divorce.  His new marriage would propel a journey of single parenting my then 2 and 3 year old for seven years.  My heart wound began a tumultuous cycle.   Scab, fester, heal, infect.  Scab, fester, heal, infect.  An occasional bust open.  Like the time my little boy asked the UPS man if he was his daddy.  That one took a long time to stitch up.

Fast forward.

Bliss!  My savior had arrived!  A terrific Christian man who wanted to marry me!  Reducing my previous marriage to worldly love, I knew this man would bring me closer to the ideallic Mary Poppins marriage I had dreamed of.  You know, practically perfect in every way.  We were both Christian, after all.

Fast forward. 

 A handful of Christian women studying The Excellent Wife by Martha Peace.  (A great book on wife-ing.)  We are studying the chapter on sex, and the leader naively passes me by (with my second trimester belly) by commenting, “Well, obviously you have no problems in this department!”  Do they notice that everyone is laughing but me?  No, they don’t.  Because, despite my Mary Poppins smile, I am working a familiar pattern.  Scab, fester, heal, infect.  Scab, fester, heal, infect…

* * *

In each of our lives, the drama of sin and suffering plays itself out.  It may be a secret struggle that is growing more difficult.  It may be a relationship that is increasingly conflicted.  The horrors of the past rear their ugly heads.

Honesty compels us to admit that we are people who need help, surrounded by people in the same situation.  There are things inside of us that simply don’t go away.  We do wrong things, feel regret, confess them, resolve not to repeat them, but, in the heat of the moment, go on to exactly what we promised ourselves we wouldn’t.

God has called us to be part of His kingdom work, but he hasn’t given us a phoney Mary Poppins polish, or a quick pamphlet, “5 Steps to the Perfect Relationship.”  He has told us to place our hope in the presence and work of Jesus the Redeemer.  We find we are utterly dependent on His power and wisdom for change in any of our relationships, because “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way” (Is. 53:6).  It was completely encouraging when, during a time of complete humility and failure, Jesus reminded me that all mankind, all marriages, were in the same boat as me, really, and that no matter what any marriage looked like on the outside, no matter how much lacquer a couple may goop on, the truth remains we are all selfish, sinful wives married to selfish sinful husbands.  Their transparency was irrelevant on some level.  What I believed about Jesus and how I aligned my mind with Scripture would be the only important difference.

My husband and I have stumbled, tripped, lost many battles, and yet are winning the war.  Our marriage is tight and growing tighter, despite the fact that from time to time we blame each other for our own sins, as well as the past sins of others. 

The Christian life is a long obedience in the same direction.  The Bible is more than an encyclopedia of therapeutic insights, like,  ”Where can I find a verse on (fill in the blank)”.  Our only hope in any relationship rests on the Person, Jesus Christ, and His salvation plan to rescue us.  We are quicker to the cross as a couple, and more willing to be humiliated in front of one another.  I have watched my husband go from a deflated football, to the winningest QB in our home.  As a couple, we are hopeless and helpless as husband and wife, man and woman.  We need rescue from our own self-sufficiency and wisdom and a transport to a kingdom where Jesus is central and true hope is alive. 

I am haunted more often by the Bible and words of God, than the foolish words of man.  ”No.  I don’t“, holds absolutely no power anymore.  When Pastor Mark was teaching through Nehemiah, God reminded me to,   “Have a mind to work, Shelly, on your relationships.”  (Nehemiah 4:6).   Which incidentally is a great prayer.    

We feel as if we have a permanent trowel in one hand (building our home for Jesus fame), and a sword in the other (exalting and living and believing the Word).  (Nehemiah 4:17).  We’ve made dozens of marriage and parenting mistakes.  And still, we win the war.  A long obedience in the same direction, and knowing our community at Mars Hill Church is all doing the same, and no one has a Mary Poppins marriage.  

Pastor Mark’s new series on The Peasant Princess, in Song of Songs is sure to scratch a few scabs for all of us.  I know in the end it will encourage more growth, more humility, and deeper love in all of our relationships, because worldly love is our default under a Curse.

Thank you Jesus Christ, for picking off the scabs.  For saving me from myself, from hurting my husband, and for eternity.

Thank you Pastor Mark, for your undaunting love of Scripture, uncovering festers in our marriages. 

Thank You, Father God, for a design to heal us.

Use us, sweet Jesus through the Holy Spirt, to give us (as C.S. Lewis put it), the Good Infection to others around.

Thank you that I can laugh at the title of this post.  And be eternally thankful that it’s true.

Heal me, O Lord, and I will be healed;

Save me and I will be saved,

For Thou art my praise.

Jeremiah 17:14

Feeling frustrated about your circumstances?  I was the other day, and picked up my 31 Days of Praise book by Ruth Myers.  I had left off on Day 17, and did a mental kickflip when I read the following.  I trust it might bless another sister in cyberspace as well.  (Be sure to read the Scriptures for fuller context:  Isaiah 46:9; Genesis 37, 39; Psalm 105:16-25; Genesis 50:20; Romans 11:33; Psalms 37:5; 73:24; Rev. 3:7-8; Deut. 1:33; Ps. 90:1; 91:1; 31: 20; 36:7-8; 65:3; 27:4-5; John 15:5; Ps. 23:6):

Thank You that you have me in the place You want me just now…that even if I got here through wrong choices or indifference or even rebellion, yet You knew my mistakes and sins before I ever existed, and You worked them into Your plan to draw me to Yourself, to mold and bless me, and to bless others through me.  Thank You that, even if I’m here through the ill will or poor judgment of other people, all is well; for in Your sovereign wisdom You are at work to bring about good results from all those past decisions, those past events beyond my control - good results both for me and for others.  Thank You again that You meant for good the terrible things that happened to Joseph, who was sold into slavery, exiled to a distant country, and later sent to prison on false accusations…and that through all this You had him in the right place at the right time, for highly important reasons.  I’m glad, Lord, that You are the same today - well able to work things out for us, to turn evil into good.  I stand amazed at the complexity and mystery of Your wisdom.  How safe it is for me to trust Your reasons for acting (or not acting) and Your methods of working!

Thank You that I can safely commit my location and situation to You.  I can “be willing for You to shift me anywhere on life’s checkerboard, or bury me anywhere in life’s garden, gladly yielding myself for You to please Yourself with, anywhere and anyway You choose” (source unknown).  Thank You that I can trust You with my future places - ready to go, ready to stay.

So I rest in the fact that You have me in this place for this day, and I praise  You that You will faithfully guide me throughout life to just where you want me to be, as I seek to do Your will.

And most important of all is my place in You.  How delighted I am to have You as my dwelling place where I can settle down, feel secure and be content anywhere on earth…You are my blessed home, “where I can enter and be at rest even when all around and above is a sea of trouble” (Andrew Murray).  How my soul delights to hide in the secret of Your presence…to take refuge in the shadow of Your wings, to eat at Your table, to drink my fill of the river of Your delights.  How blessed I am, my King and my God, for You have chosen me, and brought me near, to live in Your presence, to behold Your delightfulness, to seek Your counsel…And to think that I will dwell in Your house forever!”

I am always amazed by people who seem to remember everything about their early years like a seamless panorama.  My own memories are more like a fast drive through the Olympic Forest:  blurred images with occasional clarity, like isolated trees.  My college years in Texas produced a few tall firs.  Dating Royce Berry, the first godly man God threw at me.  Fried okra, Smitty’s barbeque, chewing menudo.  Living with migrant workers, experiencing worship as the only white person in an all black church.  But the giant spruce of them all is remembering my Ruthie. 

After I came home with my tail between my legs, my mom was fond of reminding me that God works all things out according to His Purpose.  She just never could figure out what all those years spent like a gypsy (more…)

Know how you meet people later in life who remind you of someone from your past?  Their laugh…mannerisms…looks…walk?  Never in my life have I met anyone who reminded me of Ruthie.  Until recently when I was late to work, circling 5^th & Columbia.  I caught Ruthie out of the corner of my eye.  The sexy walk gave her away.  She turned the corner while I waited at a red light.  On green, I gunned it and turned too.  Yup.  It was Ruthie alright.

People used to say Ruthie faked that walk, but I lived with her for 9 months, and I know:  That walk was naturally Ruthie.  Arriver comme mars en careme.  That’s French for as sure as night follows day.  Ruthie was just born to walk that way.  

Girls like Ruthie fascinate us, and like most young women, I constantly compared (more…)

I’m sitting in my apartment right now, normally my haven of rest. But this last week it has been my Jonah-in-the-whale experience. I am debating over clicking “publish” after I write these things, because they are not resolved and they don’t make me look good.

I’m thinking through the book of Jonah - I had to read ahead of our preaching because a) it was a story and b) it’s short. Here’s my brief summary:

1. God tells Jonah to go to Ninevah to tell them they’re doomed; Jonah is racist and elitist and by his own admission (in chapter 4) doesn’t want to go because he doesn’t want God to have mercy on them if and when they repent.

2. God puts Jonah in the underwater slammer of sorts, to repent. Jonah comes to a place where he acknowledges he is small and defenseless, and God is huge and powerful, and his only hope. But try to find any “I’m sorry”s or heart changes.

3. God tells Jonah to go to Ninevah again. This time he goes, only walks into the city partway, announces doom and gloom. The people repent, and God spares them.

4. Jonah is royally ticked off and a conversation ensues between himself and God revealing Jonah’s judgmental, self-righteous and wicked heart that looks nothing like God’s merciful and compassionate one. The line that keeps sticking out to me is God saying “Do you do well to be angry?” and Jonah’s clearly irrational and emotional response, “Yes, I do well to be angry, angry enough to DIE.”

I’m writing you in the midst of (more…)

Today a Mars Hill member writes on her struggles in worshiping and fearing her family more than Jesus. Can you relate? Maybe you don’t have an “obvious idol” - like pornography or overeating or drunkenness. But what about the beautiful gift of family? Do you love them more than Jesus?

God created us to worship.  It’s how we’re made.  So when we’re not properly worshiping Him, our hearts are quickly drawn to a cheap replacement.  For me, that has been my family.  Which is rather confusing since family in itself is a good thing.  But it can easily take the form of idolatry when I choose family over Jesus.  Let me explain.

As a single woman, I have held my family above Christ by refusing to speak truth at the risk of disrupting my family’s so-called peace or potentially losing relationship with them altogether.  I knew God was calling me to bring into the light past family sin that had never been discussed since it occurred 27 years ago.  I could see how it could be used to show them God’s grace by coming to them in truth and forgiveness.  And although there was great possibility to see lives transformed, I sinned against God by instead choosing my family and my own comfort because the risk was too high.

Not having a husband or children of my own, the thought of being left “alone” was (more…)

Hers was the last bootie shaking.  Through the din of the crowd’s cheering and whistles, you could barely hear the fading lines of Billboard’s #1 hit, Eye of the Tiger, before the contest was over and the redneck crowd erupted in unanimous thunder, announcing its winner by shouting our roommate’s name.  It was the same cacophonous pitch we heard most every Friday night after the Best Bootie Contest in the muggy Coyote Ugly bar we hung out at in South Texas in the fall of 1982. (more…)