"Proud" Parenting

Originally written: October 26, 2015

My little boys knew their ABCs and 123s before they went to preschool at three years old. I was a mighty proud mama. I know it’s the competitor in me, but I want Charlotte to know them right now. Why? Who knows—keeping up with the Jones’s, I suppose.  I am learning it’s a battle not worth fighting.  God is not going to ask me whether or not she knew her ABCs when I get to heaven. I think He might be far more concerned with how I’ve taught her to glorify Him. He continues to teach me about pride in these small, daily ways and, well, let’s just say He’s still working.

She had me laughing the other day in the car. My boys watched these Pre-School Prep DVDs when they were young.  In my head I can hear the repetition: “Red, Red, Reeeed, Red, Reeeeeeeeeeed…” (we are talking pound my head against the wall kind of repetition).  But they knew their shapes, their colors, their letters, their numbers… . ` 

Charlotte, however, does not want to sit and watch these, nor does she want to do any activity that involves the letters.  I believe if she could voice her opinion more articulately she would say, “Mom, this is all SO beneath me.”

Really—she’s over them because her brothers are over them.  Or, as my mom would say: “She’s going to do it on her own time. She is her mother!”

So I had the novel idea that I would put them in the car.  Watching anything in the car is a major treat, so I figured, Why not letters?

We are now into day three of the experiment. This is how it is going:

DVD: A, A, Aaaaaaa, A…

Charlotte: A

DVD: B, B, Bbbbb, B…

Charlotte: B

Mommy: What comes next, Charlotte?

Charlotte: 2

I’ll have to keep you updated!

Nothing Gold Can Stay...

Originally written: October 20, 2015

I stayed for Praise and Worship time at pre-school today. Just the fact that they have a Praise and Worship time is desperately wonderful! Parents are invited to stay and participate, so Chi Chi and I joined the parade. They join together kids from three years old through first grade to sing songs and worship Jesus together.  We stood outside, circled around a chalk-drawn boundary, so the kids would know where to stand.

I stood directly behind Cameron and Peyton, on the outskirts of the circle, Charlotte in one arm and the other hand holding my twin boys’ hands together. It was so precious and also kind of hilarious. My boys are the ones who don’t do anything. Everyone is shouting, “I’ve got peace like a river…” from the top of their lungs, making the wave motions with their hands, little bodies bee-bopping to the beat—and then there are my two: still as a statue. 

Every year the school has a feast around Thanksgiving time. The kids get to choose what dish their parent has to bring. It always makes for an interesting menu. Last year I got hot dogs and white pasta.  Some people get lucky: cookies or m&ms.  Like seriously… . At least Peyton didn’t ask for steak!

Ultimately, the children perform songs for all the parents and guests within their classes.  I’ll never forget my boys standing on the outside edge, holding hands, apparently unable to move a muscle while everyone else was having a grand old time. Memories…at least they love each other.  Besides, I was always terrible in choir!

So today, as we stood around the circle, it confirmed that a year had not improved their participation much. And yet, I know they are listening. At night during our family worship time, we read from The Jesus Storybook Bible, sing songs of praise and then pray together.  Peyton loves to sing in these moments! “Praise God from whom all blessings flowwwww… .”  He belts it out! So I don’t worry too much about their timidity in front of an audience.

But as Chi Chi and I pulled away after watching that precious time, I was reminded of one of my favorite poems.  Every class I taught (from seventh graders to sophomores and seniors) had to memorize and recite Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost.  Every person should know at least one poem by heart, and this one in particular, is a favorite.

I recited it in my head as I drove down the lane, appreciating the beauty of this beautiful autumn day. My children will know this someday, I thought to myself:

Nothing Gold Can Stay

by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower; 
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

And it’s true. The leaves are on fire and they shimmer with golden hues, but they are not permanent. They will not stay. And it is a reminder for me that this world is not permanent. It will not stay.

I long for the day when gold will stay.  Forever. 

Love and a Cat

Originally written: October 17, 2015

Brian read this to me tonight from Facebook: “I’ve got 99 problems and 86 of them are completely made up scenarios in my head that I’m stressing about for absolutely no logical reason.”

That’s so you, he told me.

Wow, thanks honey….

MEN! What are you going to do with them?

But even despite that, I’m so thankful for my man. Let me tell you why:

1.      He loves me even though he thinks 86 of my 99 problems are made up.

2.      He listens to all 99 problems.

3.      He forgives me when I forget to tell him things. 

Example: Brian is doing the bills.

Brian: What did we do on the 14th? That was this week…

Me: Ummm…

Brian: Did you take out $250?

Me: Ya, I think I did. I meant to tell you that.

I don’t even think his blood pressure went up a single point. 

4.      I strongly dislike pets.  Yes, I said it. My husband is a vet, and I don’t like pets.  Please pass all judgment now and then leave it behind. 

I saw this saying when we were in Hilton Head and laughed so hard I had to take a picture.  I just came across it again. As I’ve mentioned before, we have two cats: Sammy (diabetic, on insulin twice a day and Prozac because he bites me!) and Mr. Darcy. 

They make life challenging because there is nothing they won’t stop at to get whatever it is that I’m cooking.  I have threatened many times to let Sammy out “by accident.”  I say I wouldn’t be disappointed if he was gone, but truthfully, I might shed a tear. Maybe.  Darcy and I have a stronger bond—he is resting his head on my computer keyboard at this very moment (but don’t be too impressed—this has never happened before).

Either way, I tell you all about these cats because it is the least I can do for a man who loves Jesus, loves me, loves our three babies and desperately wanted to be a large animal vet and still moved to North Canton. 

I am one lucky girl.

Trust

Originally written: October 16, 2015

People ask me all the time how I am.  Just the other day one of my players asked how it was going.  I told her everything was good and then changed the subject.  That’s what I do every time. She was so honest: “Coach, you’re so confident in everything you talk about, except this.”

And it struck me that what she meant was, “I know you’re lying.” And I was. 

This has been the hardest two weeks outside of the immediate diagnosis.  I am often afraid. My hands are back in full swing.  We went to a new doctor—local, but more specialized. I was so excited for the appointment—had been praying about it for months. 

I don’t know what I was expecting, but I left with a heavy heart.  I liked him. A lot.  I will switch, and I know the Lord is in this transition.  But if I am going to be honest, I think I wanted to go in and hear they can fix me. Instead, I had to stare at the MRIs of my brain and spine again, be faced with the undeniable reality that those pictures reveal. The white spots, the finger-like lines that make my case “a no-brainer”—no pun intended.  I have MS.  Deal with it.

I’m trying. 

The hands are as bad as they have been in months (which is not to say they are bad, just noticeable).  And I am so tired it’s getting in the way.  I’m stressing about stressing, recognizing that as one of the greatest triggers for another attack.

As the fall comes to a quick beginning and, as always, a quick close, I wonder what this winter will hold for me.  I want to know what happens next.

I was convicted about this the other day while I was getting ready in the morning and my three children sat on the bed watching an episode of Sofia the First.  I found myself asking my four year old what happens next (because surely he’s already seen this one before).  And I thought to myself how absolutely ridiculous it was that I needed to know exactly what was going to happen in a most predictable and trivial cartoon.  But that’s how I am in life, too.  I want to know what’s going to happen next. 

Then someone sent me this quote from Francis Chan:

"But God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if he doesn’t come through.”

And isn’t that so where the Lord has me? I am weak.  And I hate it.  Yet the very weakness I hate, brings me closer to Him, forces me to place all of my trust in Him.

TRUST.  I know the Lord is checking in.  Are you trusting me? He keeps asking. 

So I pray, and I kick and I scream on the inside as He teaches me to seek Him, to trust Him, to abide in Him... with all my heart.    

Loudonville Fair Day

Originally written: October 10, 2015

Loudonville Fair Day. It should be a national holiday according to my husband.  Someone called last night to offer us OSU tickets. I looked at my husband as he weighed them out with his hands.

OSU? Fair? OSU? Fair?

No contest, he said, as the hand representing the fair scaled towards the ceiling. 

And it did not disappoint.  We rode down with some dear friends.  The girls rode in the van and Brian and the boys jumped in their Suburban.  We made it in time to catch some of the livestock sale and then made our way down the fairway to grab some lunch.  It was a beautiful day, perfect for the fair, perfect for fellowship with our friends and Brian’s family.

But the best part of the day was on our way back to the farm after it was all said and done. As we turned to head up the hill (I opted for Grandma Allerding’s apple pie rather than a fair dessert), the sky lit up with the Lord’s majesty.  You could see the brush stroke of cloud where He’d painted the blue with a streak of pink.  The hills rolled out before us, and I was reminded of just how BIG our God is.  I am so thankful for the reminder.  At the risk of sounding too cliché: it actually took my breath away.  

Kaden -- Morning Prayer Challenge!

I am continuing to write updates every few days on my "Prayers for Kaden" tab, but tonight I come to you with a renewed sense of urgency. Kaden has had a very rough time with the chemo the second time around. He is suffering from high fevers and many other terrible side effects. He needs our prayers...URGENT prayers.

I wonder if you might commit to join me first thing each morning to fall to your knees and pray for Kaden?

 Put a reminder on your phone, set the alarm for a minute or two earlier. Before you do anything--hit those knees and pray! Even if only for one minute! We must never underestimate the power of prayer. Not only did God send Jesus to die for us, that we might believe and have eternal life, but He also gave us the awesome gift of the Holy Spirit that as believers in Christ we might communicate with Him.

 In this moment, I am reminded of Romans 8:26. I have no words strong enough, eloquent enough, urgent enough to express what I feel for this little boy. May the Holy Spirit intercede for us and may our mighty and merciful Savior pour out his love on this family! 

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.

Romans 8:26

Good Eats

Originally written: October 9, 2015

We had a family from church over for dinner tonight, and I needed a dairy-free recipe.  Panic.  I am not a good cook, and I am in no way a creative cook.  My staples are lasagna or chicken and white pasta, both of which are covered in dairy and frankly, not very good for me either.

Fruit.  I can do fruit, I thought. Brian and the kids had been to Loudonville and brought back a watermelon the size of Texas.

But fruit cannot serve as a main dish, so…

Who you gonna call??? My mom!

The grocery store had pork roasts on sale this week, and I figured Mom would have a good idea for a pork roast. And of course, she did! It was seriously the easiest recipe in the world (and I mean that because I am a dummy in the kitchen). Here’s my new favorite slow-cooker recipe from Haylie Pomroy:

·         2 ½ pounds boneless pork roast

·         1 cup minced pepperoncini peppers

·         1 cup pepperoncini juice

·         1 tsp. black pepper

·         ½ tsp. sea salt

·         ¼ tsp. dried oregano

·         ¼ tsp. dried basil

·         1/8 tsp. dried rosemary

·         1/8 tsp. dry mustard

·         3 cups chopped broccoli, spinach or asparagus

Throw everything in the slow cooker (except the vegetables) for 6-8 hours or on high for 4-5 hours. Serve with steamed vegetables!

Note: I made a few adjustments. I poured a bunch of organic chicken broth in the bottom of the crock pot and only used a little of the pepperoncini juice—trust me, it gives it plenty of bite!

We served it with steamed broccoli and white rice.

About an hour before our guests arrived, I realized I had no dessert.  I grabbed my phone and Googled nondairy desserts. This is seriously the easiest dessert to throw together! I didn’t have any dates in the cupboard (I mean, who does?). It made me think of Amelia Bedelia cutting up the calendar! So I substituted Craisins for the nondairy and chocolate chips for another batch.  Yummy!

·         3 ripe bananas

·         2 cups rolled oats

·         1 cup dates, pitted and chopped (again, not my thing!)

·         1/3 cup vegetable oil

·         1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Mix all together and let bowl sit for 15 minutes. Drop onto cookie sheet and let bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees or until lightly brown. (from allrecipes.com)

Best part of the evening: spending time with new friends.

HOPE

As I went up to go to bed tonight, I found this beside my bed: a school project from one of the boys. The image and three words offered me such HOPE. I hope they do the same for you... .

Deeper Still...

Originally written: October 2, 2015

I forgot tonight for awhile that I have MS.  No one asked about it at the fundraiser we attended, and I didn’t think about it.  I’d already decided I was going to eat what I wanted, and it couldn’t have worked out any better that they had PEACE, LOVE & LITTLE DONUTS.

I had two. 

But then a beautiful young mother said she was expecting, and I groaned on the inside—just a pang of longing for that feeling again.  We put Charlotte’s high chair downstairs today. Even as I type this, I contemplate going down to retrieve it.  It’s like looking through an old year book—as if the picture (or the high chair) will keep me (or her) in that stage forever. 

It’s not that you can’t ever have kids again, the doctor in Cleveland told us. Just not right now. You need to get this under control first.   

And I know it’s so selfish—I have three beautiful children.  There are so many wonderful women who would die just to have one.  But we are selfish beings, and I can’t help it.  I want more.  But it’s hard to imagine going off the medicine. I’m so afraid of another attack, what the next one might leave as a permanent reminder of this disease. 

Eating all that food didn’t help anything, either.  It took me til the morning to realize why I was up at 3:30am, unable to get a wink of more sleep.  It’s great eating healthy, until you eat unhealthy and it throws your whole system out of whack!

So I came downstairs to read a little of Elizabeth Eliot, and I felt a strong necessity, a stirring inside of me to surrender again.  Like in Hocking Hills.  Like the scary, am I really doing this, kind of surrender. 

Don’t you remember what happened last time?  Surrender on Monday—MS on Friday… . 

I was sort of in a delirious, super tired kind of state at this point, so I’m not exactly sure how it went, but I do know I turned over and talked to the Lord about it.  Inside my heart.  And I know that He may call me deeper still.  And I asked to be okay with that. 

It happened in church again today, and even as I write to you I look outside at the quiet creation and know He is calling me deeper still.  And I can tell you I’m desperately afraid—I can sense it back there behind the shield, lingering, because He’s allowing it to—because that’s part of having faith: knowing that it’s scary and still believing. 

And I pray: I surrender again and again and again. Sift me, Lord if you must. Help me to TRUST in your promises. If there is any other way… your will and not my own.

“I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.”

Amen. 

Good Father

Originally written: October 4, 2015

The song “Good, Good Father” has been on repeat for weeks now.  I actually bought it on my phone (and I don’t buy anything on my phone, except for my friend Caitelen’s EPs: Undone by Grace and Dark is Light--they are AMAZING and her voice really is like an angel’s!!!).

But this song—it just gets me deep down in the nitty gritty parts of my life.  It's just so simple.  It reminds me who God is, and it reminds me exactly who I am…

“You’re a good, good father. It’s who you are. And I’m loved by you. It’s who I am.”

Doesn’t that just seem so easy? So simple? But I am reminded of a coaching clinic I attended a few weeks back.  The coach was discussing some very simple, fundamental things that a good player and program will do.  And she reminded us that although they may be simple, that does not mean they are easy.  It’s so easy to get the two confused.

It’s simple, I tell my team.  Box and out and rebound, or we are not going to win. 

It’s simple! But I can assure you that is one of the most difficult things to get a team to do consistently!

And I feel like that with this song. It’s so simple!  But then why is it so hard to remember sometimes? Why do I worry? Why do I stress?

I AM LOVED BY GOD! IT’S WHO I AM!

But there is another part to the song that grabs me now. The part about “calling me deeper still.”    I’ve listened to it so many times; I know each word by heart.  Yet there’s something about these words that have struck me in a new way recently.  And they scare me. I recognize that He will always be calling us deeper into His love, but now with the unknown of my MS, I wonder what exactly that will look like.

I know that my MS has brought me deeper. It’s given me two options: either get deeper or get out.  It seems like a no brainer.  But when I recognize how suffering (and I use the term loosely because I recognize my “suffering” is nothing in comparison to so many others) has brought me closer to the Lord, it makes me nervous as to what is next.  How else will He draw me closer? And yet I remember again the verse on my fridge: “But as for me, it is GOOD to be near God” (Psalm 73:28). 

Our circumstances—especially the ones with the most heightened emotions, whether that be of extreme joy or deep sorrow—seem to draw us (or at least me) closest to the Lord. 

TRUST. It all comes back to trusting our good, good Father.

Humility

Originally written: September 29, 2015

Now, I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and exalt and glorify the King of heaven, because everything he does is right and all his ways are just. And those who walk in pride he is able to humble.

Daniel 4: 37

This week in my Daniel study it is all about pride. We are in Daniel 4 where King Nebuchadnezzar fails to heed God’s warning and is put through the absolute depths, while God trims that pride back to a stump before allowing him to grow again (if you can, go read Daniel 4!).  I have been praying desperately that the Lord will teach me about pride and that I might listen so as not to have to trudge through a Nebuchadnezzar-like experience myself. 

Lord, if there is any other way…teach me. Reveal my pride. Forgive me and help me to learn this lesson without having to go through the depths on this one.

And the Lord has answered: I can tell you the Lord is letting me know just how proud I am.  I’m proud in my work, in my friendships and so very proud in my marriage (like when Brian comes home at lunch and gets a little frustrated with the kids.  Here’s what I have to say on the matter: “Yeah, I know. Imagine being me—here ALL day with them!).  Yikes!

Isn’t it crazy, though—I can even be so proud in my service to God and in my worship!? I can start calculating all the things I’m doing well and how so and so isn’t spending that much time with God… .

Woah!!!

The Lord has been working on my heart, revealing an abundance of prideful thoughts (even in my humility!).

How easy it is to be proud.  But in my plea to not have to learn this lesson the hard way, God is humbling me in a most merciful and unexpected way—WITH THE IMAGE OF HIS AWESOME LOVE.  I put it in all caps because I have been humbled this week by the way the Lord loves me in a way I could never reciprocate.  There is nothing to be proud of here—only thankful and sincerely humbled (to the point of tears).

You see, this week in Bible Study we are looking at the covenant God made with Abraham in Genesis 12. I listened to a sermon our leader sent us called “Abraham and the Torch” by Tim Keller (check it out on YouTube—I’m telling you, so worth it!). The interesting part about it is that Abraham was not perfect. He was not sinless. He was human. He was like you. He was like me.

But Abraham believed God! Notice I didn’t say Abraham believed IN God—yes, he did. Yes, I do. But Abraham TRUSTED God’s promises and that every one of them would come true!

One of the books we are using to supplement our study is The Whole Story of the Bible in 16 Verses by Chris Bruno. Here is his (much better than anything I could write) explanation:  

“The last of the promises that God made to Abraham was the promise to bless all the families of the earth through him. But to be a blessing to others, Abraham had to receive a blessing from God first. And that is exactly what happened. As the promise was unpacked over time, God told Abraham that he would be ‘their God’ (Gen. 17:7-8).

The promise to be their God was not a light thing. With these words, God was promising to give the same blessings to Abraham and his offspring that he gave to Adam and Eve: he would live with them as their God and they as his people. But this raises a question: What would keep Abraham and his seed from messing up the same way Adam and Eve did? How could God guarantee that they wouldn’t break this covenant as well?

In Genesis 15, we find an amazing answer to this question. About one year before Isaac was born, God came to Abraham and gave him a strange vision. God asked Abraham to sacrifice several animals and cut the carcasses in half. Then God appeared to him in a vision as a smoking firepot and a flaming torch that passed between the halves of the animals.

While this bizarre scene might be incomprehensible to many today, in the ancient world, its meaning was clear. It was common for two partners who were entering a covenant to sacrifice and divide animals just as Abraham did. They would then walk between the animals together, as a way of saying to each other, ‘May I be like these animals if I fail to keep this covenant.’

But in the vision of Genesis 15, God walked through the divided animals alone. By doing this, he was binding himself to keep both sides of the covenant! He was not only committing to keep the promises himself, but was also committing that if Abraham failed to remain loyal and keep the covenant, he—God!—would suffer the consequences of that failure…” (Bruno 45-46).

And isn’t that the Gospel!? God came. And He did die. For me. For you.  God walked through those pieces alone—he didn’t ask Abraham to do it. 

Keller goes on to say, however, that Abraham recognizes what we all need to recognize—what my proud little self needs to hear: I CAN’T DO IT! I cannot uphold this agreement.  I will fall short.  And then we all need to hear the answer: God says, “May my immortality suffer mortality. May my power suffer powerlessness…”  In other words, God says, I’ll die for you.  And Christ did.

And I am humbled.  

And it reminds me that I write to you so often about my faith. And I have people tell me that I’m so strong and that my faith is so impressive.  BUT…here me screaming this through the page—I’M NOTHING WITHOUT THE LORD!  I can’t love like God loves. I can’t keep my end of the bargain.  Half the time, my actions portray that I don’t even believe God.  Don’t mistake me, I believe IN God.  But if I would just believe God more… .

Keller goes on to remind us of one of my favorite verses in the Bible:

“I believe; help my unbelief!”

(Mark 9:24). 

And again and again and again, I am humbled. I asked the Lord to humble me this season of life in a way that would not reflect the horror of Nebuchadnezzar’s lesson. My feeble mind imagined it would still be a challenging time—a tough time—of learning.  But the God in heaven has responded once again in a way immeasurably more than anything I could have ever asked for or imagined.  He has humbled me by pouring out His awesome love like a waterfall into a dry pool. 

Oh, God.  Thank you.

Coca-Cola

Originally written: September 27, 2015

Sometimes you just need confirmation. Confirmation that you are where the Lord desires you to be, especially when you feel He is slowly stripping things away. Today I got that confirmation about my coaching: a text from a former player that reminded me the impact a coach can have on a life. They don’t forget what we say. They don’t forget what we teach them. They don’t forget, and as for right now, I believe this is where the Lord wants me (and I am so thankful for that reassurance!).  Did you know “one coach can impact more young people in one year than the average person does in a lifetime?” What an incredible responsibility… .

KRUSADER FOR KADEN

Let's all join in and be Krusaders for Kaden--prayer Krusaders, that is. Grandma Allerding has started a trend with blue bracelets for the little guy! These bracelets are for sale (just ask either Brian or me--or anyone in the Allerding family!) for $5. Our hope is that as we wear them, we will be reminded to lift Kaden and his family up to the Lord in prayer. All the proceeds go directly to the family! Thank you in advance for all your support. 

Unfortunately, the chemo is taking a bit of a toll on him. He has experienced more fatigue and is suffering from sores in his mouth and esophagus. As a result, the little guy is eating less and feeling a dip in energy. They are also still very concerned about the risk of infection. Let's pray tonight that God will hold Kaden in the palm of His hand. As we are reminded in Matthew 6:28-30, look at how the Lord clothes the flowers of the field...how much more will He care for us?

28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you... .

Make a Way

Originally written: September 26, 2015

Today an old friend from high school came to visit. It’s been two years since I saw her last, and of course, we picked up where we left off. It was a beautiful day out—the kind where it cools your skin but warms your core, the part of you that longs for fall days where the scents cook you from the inside out.  It makes me think of Camp Wakonda, the Ox Roast, the Loudonville Fair.  Deep breath—bliss!

So we sat in the late afternoon coolness, right outside the garage where we could watch the kids make circles on their bikes.

My garage is a mess but I hoped she wouldn’t care.  Heavens, she’s a mom!

As we went to sit down, she said, “Is that your cane??”

My what!? I thought, turning my head to see my husband’s grandmother’s old cane. 

Seriously? I thought with a long, internal groan.

But I guess that could be me sooner than later.  It’s moments like these that make me suddenly sit up a little straighter.  Just little reminders of what’s possible. 

Brian and I do a book study with some dear friends of ours, and we usually meet on Thursdays.  The past few Thursday evenings I’ve left workouts, picked Brian up and we’ve hopped over to Chipotle (Chip-pottle, as Brian would pronounce it).  Anyway, this past Thursday a family of three came in: a mom, a dad and a son…the couple could not have been much beyond early forties.  They wheeled the mom in a wheelchair, and I asked Brian if he thought that would be me someday.  I really don’t dwell here often—really, I don’t. 

But it’s real, and it’s possible. 

It reminds me of another song by I Am They: “Make a Way.”  The song lyrics go like this:

Wherever you lead me, I know You won’t leave me

Wherever you call me, You will make a way

Wherever we’re going, I will be holding

To the promise you have made

You will make a way

You will make a way

So I ask the Lord that wherever He leads, He will prepare me for it.  

Parachute Days

Originally written: September 22, 2015

Do you remember the parachute from elementary school gym class? I remember still the gymnasium at Avondale Elementary School and the whiteness of our gym teacher’s hair, although I can’t quite picture her face. The parachute was colorful, at least in my mind’s eye, and we used to put something on it and make waves while the object on top popped like popcorn. Or we’d balloon it up like a mushroom and sit inside of it using our little bottoms for anchors. 

My brother-in-law jogged my memory the other day when he brought the same kind of parachute to the boys’ birthday party.  It didn’t make it out of the bin that day, but today it made an appearance. We spread it out on the back lawn and the kids bounced from one color to another.

We played all sorts of games and none of them were very creative, but I know my kids thought I was a rock star for engaging in the parachute antics. We pretended each color meant something different and then we’d hop from one to the next.  They’d run in circles and shriek with joy at all the fun we were having. Joy.

“Make waves, Mom! More waves!” they’d shout and then giggle to one another.

The world kept moving outside our little yard, but inside time stood still. We were in our own little Neverland, I suppose, and although I was participating, it was like part of me stood over to the side to eavesdrop.

My three sweet children are growing up, and I’m missing it sometimes with too much busyness. 

Slow down, I thought.

I took a picture of them—their three heads all piled together in the middle.

“That’s frameable!” my sister later texted me.

And it is. In my mind, forever. 

Shield of Faith

Originally written: September 21, 2015

The Armor of God

10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

18 And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

(Ephesians 6:10-18)

***

I’ve been thinking about the roots again—about the feeling (or lack thereof) in my heart and my stomach. I’m praising God for it now, you’ll be happy to know.  And this morning as I prayed through the armor of God it occurred to me that perhaps all this time I’ve been praying to hold the shield of faith, I haven’t felt like I was holding it because I haven’t been.

God has.

It was one of the most humbling and awesome realizations of my life. God is holding it for me in my weakness and in my struggle.

He’s got a blockade around my heart and nothing can get through. And I’m not questioning it anymore—I am for the first time in awhile afraid of something in the future now.  I’m afraid of when He’ll trust me with it again. 

Roots

Originally written: September 15, 2015

Brian was home for lunch today, and we decided to spread a blanket on the lawn under the shade of a big oak tree while the boys rode their new bikes around and around (and around!) in circles on the driveway (oh yes, we had two birthdays in the Allerding house!). Normally I’d just grab a chair—I don’t love creepy crawly things—but today it sounded relaxing, peaceful.

Looking up, the branches reached out like veins on an arm extending towards the heavens, and I was in awe.  The trees reach so high—like a mighty tower—and it is so hard for me to wrap my head around the way they stand firm and do not fall.  It makes me pause to appreciate the Lord’s handiwork—this tree came from a tiny seed. And it will grow and grow and grow, higher than nearly anything we could construct. And it will stand. Through the wind and the rain, and it will live far longer than I.

And so I asked Cameron if he knew how the trees stand like they do without falling?

“No, Mom,” he said. “How do they do that?” 

And I told him: “It’s all in the roots.”

I wish I could say I launched into a science lesson from there (mom of the year award—sorry, not me), but I didn’t. I just paused to take in the majesty of God’s creation. How can something that tall, that long, that heavy, stand so firmly?

It later got me to thinking about Ephesians 3:16-19...

16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Ann and I have been chatting about these verses recently, about what it means to be rooted in Christ’s love. It struck me then, but it strikes me even more boldly after sitting beneath the tree.

Recently I’ve been having this feeling in the pit of my heart—like the feeling you get when something big is coming and your stomach is just heavy or “in knots,” as the saying goes. But it’s in my heart and my stomach—all of me. It’s like I don’t feel—anything—except for that. And it’s been bothering me.

It’s strange, I know—hard to articulate.  

But through prayer, through the Holy Spirit bringing me back again and again to Ephesians, through the tree…

I think my heart is rooted.

It’s tied down, in knots, and He’s not letting me go.

How awesome is that?!

Again and again I think to myself, How can I not be afraid?

And yet, I’m not!

And yet it’s almost like I want to be afraid because the world says I SHOULD be. And I’m ashamed to confess it because it speaks to my brokenness. Even in my emotions I want to fit in with this world. So I confess my shortcoming, and I ask for forgiveness, and I praise the God in heaven for His mighty protection!

I am so thankful to be rooted in the Lord. I am thankful for this peace that surpasses all understanding, and I am in awe “to know this love that surpasses knowledge.” 

The Word

Originally written: September 10, 2015

As I got ready for bed last night, I looked at the Scripture taped to my mirror, written in green Sharpie: 

16 All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, 17 so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.

2 Timothy 3:16-17

 I’ve been meaning to memorize this, I thought. I need to memorize this.

When I woke up this morning, one of the passages in my Daily Devotional New Testament: Through the New Testament in a Year (a great read—you should really try it. You can read through the whole New Testament in one year with a reasonable amount to digest each day!) was 2 Timothy 3.  And then as I worked through my new Beth Moore study (Ann and I are tackling her study of the book of Daniel!) she directed me to the very same Scripture.  Coincidence? I don’t believe in them! Not with the power of God at work and alive in my life.

I’d say I would have to be fairly dense if I couldn’t see the Lord calling me to this verse, and based on last night’s emptiness, I’d say the Lord is so sweetly reminding me how to fill up my cup: with the Word of God. 

I’ve been out of my study of John for several weeks now, and I feel like I left the weight room. The Gospel of John was my workout and my muscles have been atrophying since I stopped studying.  I’ve been in the Word, but I’d say I’ve been a bit wayward, drifting aimlessly—slacking a bit on the weights.  I recognize my weaknesses and strengths. Navigating the Bible on my own is not yet a strength.  I need direction, structure, a workout plan.  I know the Lord is calling me back to this as I begin our study at church and as I dive into Daniel.

And I believe 2 Timothy 3:16-17 is a gentle encouragement from the Lord that I am on the right track—that I need to stick to it.   That I need to up my weights, as I tell the girls in the weight room. 

I guess it seems pretty simple: there is no substitute for spending intentional time in the Word of God!

Good Vibes

I read something someone posted online recently that good things happen to good people.  And I wondered if the person was insinuating that if something bad happens, it must be because you are a bad person.  It’s like the t-shirt I saw this morning at one of my favorite retail stores that said something like “send good vibes—it creates good karma.” 

Should I suppose, then, that my MS is due to bad behavior or that I’m just not on the positive vibe train?

I am immediately reminded of the verses at the top of this blog: John 9:1-3.

“As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

My church has been studying the book of Job in Bible study this semester. While I couldn’t attend in person, I followed from a distance and read and listened to the audio teachings each week. Job’s friends were on the good behavior train noted above: Job must be in bad standing with God to deserve this magnificent suffering.

But today I listened to one of my pastors speak about Job 40 and 41, and he used a quote from Flannery O’Connor: “A God that you can understand would have to be less than yourself.” It may seem logical to us that good people have success and bad things happen to bad people.  It fits in our pretty little box.  But what this quote so rightly reminds us (and thank God!), is that we cannot possibly understand our God. As my pastor further mentions, He is a God that is sovereign not only over the good but also the disorder and chaos of this universe.  We cannot understand.  But He does. 

He asks Job in Job 40:8, “Would you discredit my justice? Would you condemn me to justify yourself?” Basically, as my pastor went on to explain, will Job put God in the wrong in order to make himself right? No! No! No! we scream on this side of the story. God is right…even Job recognizes that. His ways are too great for us to understand. And yet ultimately—in the most selfless and loving act—God does make Job right. He condemns His own son to the cross so that we might be saved.

The truth is, if I really got what I deserved at the end of each day…I can’t fathom the outcome. I am a sinner! Every day.

At the end of his teaching, he reminded us that we must recognize who we are and we must recognize who God is.  We must bow down to the God in heaven who wakes us up each morning.  We must recognize that it isn’t about good vibes or being a good person—it is about having faith in a God of great mercy--one that gave His own son so that those who believe might have eternal life--while living in a world that has great suffering.

After all, that’s what grace is: unmerited favor—not giving us what we deserve.   

I am challenged to hold onto the hope that God holds each breath and each day in His hands. That this world and my salvation do not depend on my own behavior or my positive outlook on life.  Like the man born blind, it was not something that he did to deserve it. Bad things happen to good people. And we cannot possibly understand it all.

Jesus Christ, though, was perfect. And He took on the ultimate suffering so that we might have hope. 

I pray that we will seek Him today and take great comfort in that hope!

"God of Angel Armies"

Thank you to all those praying for my nephew, Kaden. I continue to be at a loss in these circumstances.  I cannot know what to say or how to best comfort his parents--there are no words. I feel as though the Spirit continues to remind me of this one thing: THERE IS A GOD IN HEAVEN! He is the one true God, and He hears our prayers, knows every hair on our head.

Someone sent me a song to listen to this week by Chris Tomlin: “Whom Shall I Fear (God of Angel Armies).” I encourage you to take a moment to listen. I am reminded that this world is a battlefield; it is fallen, and I cannot possibly pretend to fathom the pain they are feeling.

So as the song so rightly puts, I pray that “the God of angel armies” will be by their side. I pray that the God who holds the whole world in His hands, the God who sent His very own son to die on the cross for us, will hold Kaden in the palm of His hand every step of the way.

I have created a “Prayers for Kaden” tab in the drop down menu. While I will continue the normal blog page with my backdated entries, I pray you will stay updated on Kaden and his journey with me, as well.

They need an army! May we contribute through faith, love and prayer.