Wisdom

This post was written about May 22, 2016

Today we celebrated Charlotte’s 3rd birthday with our family. We set up the night before and used the kids little multi-purpose stand as the children’s’ drink stand. Cameron decided he would man the station, and oh, how he took his position so seriously. He stayed there for a long time, occupying every bit of it—not giving an inch to his brother who thought maybe he should have a turn.

As I sat downstairs after putting the kids to bed later that evening, I heard a loud holler from upstairs.  Going into check on him, he was so concerned.  We had moved the little play farms upstairs because they had so many pieces and we didn’t want them to get lost with everyone at the house.  They were still in the boys’ room for the night and Cameron had got to thinking about it: “Mom, since P-Man has two farms, can we just cut them in half? I really want one.”

“Cameron,” I reminded him, “you should be so happy your brother has two farms. And besides, he shares them with you!  There are lots of other things you have that Peyton does not.”

 I leaned in and gave him a big kiss, which seemed to suffice.

“Good night, boys,” I said as I closed the door.

I had been back on the couch for no more than a minute when I heard another loud holler: “Mooooom!”

I walked back in and this time he was so sincere: “Mom, did I do good at handing out the drinks?”

“Oh, Cammy,” I said emphatically, “you were fabulous!”

He giggled with delight, so proud of what he had done. And as I left the room for the third time that evening, I thought of our Sunday school class and our discussion on James.  Wisdom. Such a big word—not literally--but in scope.

What is wisdom, really?

I think of knowledge that comes from experience. But the Bible says so much more. James says,

13 Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom. 14 But if you harbor bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast about it or deny the truth. 15 Such “wisdom” does not come down from heaven but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. 16 For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice.

17 But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. 18 Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.

I had never thought of wisdom in such a way. I think of my little boy and am reminded that we are born sinners. He wants to cut his brother’s farm in half so he can have one too. He wanted to hand out drinks and let no one else have a turn. How often do I harbor bitter envy in my heart or am I motivated by selfish ambition? Far too often, if I’m honest. We can hide it so much better as adults, but the Lord knows our hearts.

The leader of our discussion described it as “doing the right thing with the right attitude”—doing it with a heart that is sincere. I am challenged tonight to pray for this wisdom—not just knowledge but “a wisdom that comes from heaven.”  I pray also that I might teach my children by it—that I might teach them with a heart and mind full of mercy and good fruit—that it might be so sincere and that it might “reap a harvest of righteousness.”

Oh, how far I have to go! Join me in praying this Scripture every morning—praying for the wisdom that comes from heaven!

Where dreams come true

This post was written about April 2015

They swear this new medicine (a once a month infusion) is liquid gold. I feel more like liquid hormones—I cry when I’m happy, when I’m sad and every moment in between. “It’s really strong medicine, honey,” the sweet nurse told me.

No, kidding! I thought to myself, holding back tears and rushing to the restroom once the IV line had been released. How am I going to do Disney like this? I’m a physical and emotional wreck!

But the Lord’s timing is always perfect and his protection is humbling. We have been planning to take the kids to Disney World for quite some time and my very organized sister has been making reservations and itineraries since February. I knew it would not be a relaxing vacation—it would be on the go, go, go. Let’s get here, let’s see this…go, go, go.

If there is one thing MS has taken, it has certainly taken my ability to GO. But upon our arrival in Disney World, both God’s merciful hand and my medication hurdled into action. And at least for this one week…I could go (with the help of a solid nap everyday)!

I believe this new medication is a blessing from God. Although it may not be a cure-all by any means, at least I’m not sick or worried about getting sick every time I touch something or shake someone’s hand. My white blood cells are back in action, and I feel at least a little more energy than before. At least at this moment, it’s a dream come true in the place where dreams come true!

Easter (Part II)

Originally written for: Easter Sunday 2016

Last post I shared about my baptism on Easter Sunday. Today I would like to share the testimony that was published that morning:

It’s humbling to recognize that even when my eyes were blind and my heart unaware, the Lord and His abounding love and mercies were still near. Looking back over my life, I see this even in the early years: an incredibly loving family, growing up going to church, a roommate in college who knew and loved Jesus and a series of colleges that led me to Malone University.

Despite being exposed to the Word of God, I did not fully understand what it meant to accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior. Even though I recited the words to accept Christ, I mistakenly assumed church attendance and being a good person was a pathway to heaven. My heart had not yet been changed.

It wasn’t until my college years and my time at Malone University—a move that was unmistakably led by the Holy Spirit—that I finally asked Jesus into my heart. On a mission trip with the basketball team to Jamaica, I was challenged to ask myself if I had really made Him Lord of my life.

I began to understand that no amount of good character or behavior could save me. I am a sinner and always will be.  But because God sent His Son to die on the cross, I could be saved by grace! I finally understood no amount of my own doing could save me—Jesus Christ is the only way to heaven.  I remember asking Him into my heart again and again on that trip and have been challenged ever since to “live a life worthy of the calling I have received” (Eph. 4:1).

Now as a wife, mother and coach, I am challenged daily to impact this world for Christ. I pray that people will see a light inside of me amidst the darkness of this sinful world. Despite my efforts to manage life on my own, I am constantly reminded of my need for God’s grace, both in the mundane parts of daily life, as well as the higher peaks and lower valleys.

Most recently, I have been challenged to put my trust in the Lord after being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. I am reminded that it is nothing I have done but rather as Jesus tells His disciples in John 9 after he heals a man born blind, “…this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in [me].” I have learned that being a child of God does not guarantee happiness, wealth or an easy life; in fact, it guarantees suffering and a constant battle against my fallen nature. Yet in all of this, I have the hope of Christ and His ultimate return.

I am thankful for the day He opened my blind eyes and look forward to the day He will call me home. In the space between, I pray to do the will of God over my own—to be an obedient disciple and loving sister in Christ: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8).  What a precious and indescribable gift from the Maker of the heavens and the earth.

Easter (Part I)

This post was originally written about March 28, 2016

I am a mother of two four year olds and a two year old: Disney is what we do. Tonight we watched Beauty and the Beast for the first time as a family. At the very beginning of the movie, the narrator tells the tale of how the prince becomes the beast: he tells of a hardened heart that could not love, of a prince who could not see beyond appearances, who comes under a spell that could only be broken by true love.  And it tells of his hopelessness in his belief that no one could ever love a beast. 

Being the day after Easter Sunday, it got me to thinking about the love of Jesus. Aren’t we all like the beast? Don’t we judge? Don’t we sin? Isn’t it easy to feel hopelessness in the fact that if anyone really knew us from the inside out, they could never love us?  And yet that is the HOPE of Easter—of Christ’s resurrection—that in our hopelessness there is one who still loves us.

Brian and I were baptized on Easter. We were baptized as infants, but this public proclamation was our choice and our chance to pronounce the hope we have in Christ dying on the cross for our sins.  Being baptized again is something that’s been on my heart for years—something I always pushed off: Oh, I’ll do it someday, I would convince myself. Honestly, I was afraid—of what others might think, of getting up in front of the church, of so many different things the devil can use against us… .

But then the Lord presented the opportunity and after much prayer and consideration, we said yes. The Lord’s timing is perfect, and I am so thankful for His perfect plan. I am thankful for a church that proclaims this hope on Easter Sunday, and I am thankful to share it with my dear husband. 

Our church published a packet for people to take with them and part of it explains the purpose in baptizing on Easter.  It says,

“There are two movements in baptism: descending into and arising out of the water. As we descend into the water, we are buried with Christ and die with him.

But we do not just descend, we are also raised out of the water… . We baptize on Easter Sunday because of Easter Sunday, because Jesus was raised from the dead. And so with each baptism we proclaim HOPE.”

And I know this is a moment I will always cherish. I can feel myself standing in wait before descending into the water, and I will always remember the moment of being below.  The swirling of the water—the sound it made—muddled and swarming. All consuming. A pause. And then being lifted back up, a visible and tangible proclamation of hope.

What amazing love is this: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

The booklet the church handed out also had the testimonies of those being baptized. I will share that with you in my next post, my dear friends, and I remind you in the meantime: if you feel hopeless—a beast under a spell—find your hope IN CHRIST.

Rejoice

This week I have asked the Lord for a verse to focus on--to repeat and to pray more continuously throughout the days. Ironically, but not surprisingly, He brought me to a staple verse in my life over the past several years, one that reminds me to pray continuously! I encourage you to try this verse on for size...listen to what it says and do it throughout your day. May we find something to rejoice in, may we pray to our Father without ceasing and may we give Him thanks in everything. 

How simple.

How challenging.

How wonderful:

REJOICE ALWAYS, PRAY CONTINUALLY, GIVE THANKS IN ALL CIRCUMSTANCES; FOR THIS IS GOD'S WILL FOR YOU IN CHRIST JESUS.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Have Mercy...

Today I stop and I look around, and I thank God for what has been entrusted to me as wife and as mother. I stop to manage the matters I can manage. And I ask myself whether I am managing them on my own or with my God.

I think of just a few of the simple, Godly bits of wisdom shared over the past few months on how to pray for my children:

1.      That they might walk faithfully with the Lord all the days of their lives.

2.      Lord, have mercy on them.

3.      That I might be the light of Christ to them.

Finally, I am reminded that they are God’s children first. This is one of the most challenging prayers: For the Lord’s will in their life to always be at the forefront and not my own. 

the process...

This post was written about March 19, 2016

Today the sun beamed down, the leaves rustled and sometimes wrestled and the clouds hung above the earth like distant mountains. And I am reminded of my feeble, fallen nature. And I am reminded of the magnitude of my God. He asks Job, “Who has the wisdom to count the clouds?” And I bow my head in humility. Today I am afraid—of life and so many things in it—but I am reminded that some of these trials for me and for all of us are matters that are simply “too wonderful for me” to understand.

Give up. Surrender. Again and again and again.

And as I pray for the Holy Spirit to come upon me, I realize I cannot control what I desire to control.  It’s not like a movie or an episode of my children’s favorite TV show, Paw Patrol. I can’t always know what’s going to happen next. I am not Lord of my own life, no matter how hard I try sometimes.  Total and utter dependence…it’s what I’m learning. It’s a process. A lifelong process.

And as I sit and I pray, I’m taken to John 15 and 16, and I am comforted because we are not alone. We have an Advocate in the Holy Spirit who dwells within us when we accept Christ into our heart. 

Like I said: total and utter dependence…it’s what I’m learning. 

TRUTH

This post was written about March 2016...

Someone asked me last weekend who my favorite motivational speaker is? “Hmmmm....,” I said, “I don’t listen to very many motivational speakers. I would say my preacher, but he’s not a motivational speaker. He’s a TRUTH speaker.”

It can be a trap: Jesus being popular rather than a savior—being the genie in a bottle rather than the sacrificial lamb. That if you love Jesus, you will have health and wealth and if you don’t have those things, then you must be doing something wrong. That is not the Jesus I know.

I was so discouraged the other day. Sad. Having a hard time finding the light in the darkness. And I was rummaging around in my kitchen and glanced up to see this picture:

And then I saw on my refrigerator these two post-its:

***

 

And I am reminded of the power of the Word of God: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).

What comfort in those moments. I encourage you, dear friend, to write the Word of God down, inscribe it in your mind, make it a constant reminder in your home, in your car, on your mirror when you wake up—be intentional about surrounding yourself with God’s grace and wisdom.

Seek the TRUTH--the pouring out of God’s intimate and loving Word—rather than filling your cup with the falsehoods of our ever-intruding culture. 

Tired

This post was written about January 4, 2016

Sickness…it’s like spilled milk. It starts running off the edges of the table, gets down deep in the crevices and sticks for days. Weeks.

I have missed a total of three days of basketball practice in six years, and now I have missed three days in a row. This thing has really got me.

How easy it is to forget that the Lord has given us all we have, and it is His to take away. Even our health, our energy. I confess I have been distant lately. Faith has been hard. Staying near to Him has been hard. I’m sick. I’m tired. I’m tired.

I’m tired of being tired.

But the Lord will get our attention, even when we’re tired.  I was reminded this morning by a kind but truth-speaking person that we are NOT called to grumble and complain.

So I approached my doctor’s appointment with a hopeful attitude. Let’s just see what he has to say.

My doctor is the most upbeat person in the world—seriously, straight out of a storybook.  I love it. Brian says even if my brain was hanging half out of my head, this doctor would still say, “Good appointment! This was a great conversation.”

You can’t help but laugh.

Unfortunately, the MRIs aren’t very funny and the medicine is not doing its job—You’re a first, he says. Basically, he's never had this medicine not work for a patient that fits my profile. There is a possibility we haven't given it enough time, but he seems confident we should not wait and see. 

Translation: Let’s get on the other meds stat. We need to get this under control.  He says it’s not all bad. This is the best kind—the kind that shows up, and you know what you’re fighting against. But it’s active MS, and we need to fight.

I confess that I am afraid. For the first time in a long time, really afraid of what could be. Afraid of this once a month infusion they want me to do. Afraid that each month I’ll be afraid. The risk of a brain infection is so minute in my case, but it is there and it is real to me.

I told Brian amidst a curtain of tears, sitting crossed legged on the living room floor after the kids had gone to bed and the day had been all but tucked in: “I just don’t want to be a vegetable.”

And my dear, sweet, loving man said, “Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to get you some good meat to go with it.” And I laughed and buried my head in his chest.

And so the Lord calls me back to Him tonight: “But as for me, it is good to be near God” (Psalm 73:28). Wake up, he says, and be obedient.  This is an ongoing battle. TRUST in me, Abbey. Trust in me.

To whom else shall I go? Lord. 

Glowing

This post was written about: December 18, 2015

MRI machines—you’d think with all the advancements we have, I wouldn’t have to climb into a machine the size of a room and listen to that banging for an hour and a half just to get a picture of my brain and part of my spine. I had the MRIs on Monday, and today is Friday. I haven’t heard the results yet, so I call to check with them. I wait in anticipation.  We are hoping for no new spots.

The nurse calls me back first. She tells me there are no new spots on my spine, which is great news. “However," she continues, "it looks like there are two new spots in your brain. One of them is glowing.”

Silence.

“Hmmm…I’m not really sure,” she says. “It doesn’t really make sense. The radiologist’s report is pretty short. I’ll have the doctor call you back today.”

When we hang up, I’m not really sure what I think.

Two new spots.

One is glowing.

Just pray… .

The doctor calls back, and I listen to his encouragement on the other end of the line. He is always upbeat: “Well, I remember you had a lot of spots to begin with. That’s not necessarily bad—it’s just you. We may look at these MRIs when you come in and think two new spots is actually pretty good….”

I have an appointment on the 4th of January, and we won’t know until then how to really evaluate the results. The radiology report is fairly insufficient, and he’ll need to look at both films side by side to look at the progress.

Before he hangs up, I ask him, “But tell me the truth. Most people on this medicine…they don’t generally get any new spots, correct?”

“That is correct,” he tells me. “But don’t let it ruin your holiday. We just don’t know….” He starts talking about the other medication—the one I did not want to use.

When I hang up, I make my phone calls, send my text messages. We just don’t know yet, I say.

But in my heart, I’m disappointed. I know Brian is too. New spots is not good, any way you cut it.                     

I look for a silver lining: the spot on my spine is shrinking significantly, and I feel that! My hands are incredible lately. They are still present at times, but they are SO normal most of the time. I praise God for this, and I thank all of the dear people praying for this miracle! 

Obsession

Sunglasses are a big deal in our household.  We collect them.  Some people collect coins, some people collect stamps, but we collect sunglasses (and acorns if you really want to know). 

It’s an obsession.

I’m not sure where it all began (if I had to guess, I’d definitely pin Grammy as the culprit who began the fetish), but either way, it stuck! We have a pair for the car, a pair for the garage (for when we play outside), and it seems like a few hundred more in between.  We’ve got Hello Kitty, pink polka dots, army and orange, ones with stars and of course, Cammy’s straight-up men in black.

So what’s your obsession, dear friend?

I heard somewhere recently a prayer request that has found its way into my daily routine:

may the Word of God be my “magnificent obsession.”

Oh, may it be so!

Weakness

A few weeks back I had one of those days. It was a hard one. I couldn't stop praying. I just needed to get through it.

It was almost exactly one year since I had been diagnosed with MS and while the pain of the initial shock has worn, He has used these past two months to remind me once again that my body is His--my strength comes from Him and Him alone. I contemplated that night unlocking the latch on my hotel room door just in case I woke unable to walk. I knew I could get myself to the door, but would I be able to reach that high...??

A year later, I now know what to fear... .

I cried that night from simple physical and emotional exhaustion. Not something dramatic, but from my own stance in life--MS and all--I cried. And I stood and looked in the mirror, and I prayed the armor of God, speaking it back to Him (Ephesians 6:10-18).

And I asked for help.

And when I woke, it was to the sound of the birds outside, not an alarm as I had anticipated. My phone had died in the night, and I was supposed to meet people in the lobby for breakfast at 6:45am. He woke me at 5:30. And I was reminded of a story a friend had shared awhile back about some teenagers who had come to stay with them. Their home life was unstable, unsafe and transient. When the young man prayed for them in the morning, he thanked God for waking him up that day--not something I would even think to be thankful for... .

And so I was reminded to be thankful that He woke me up that day--not just so I didn't oversleep, but that He breathed life into my lungs. I was reminded to be thankful for this physical and mental hurtle--so that I might rely on Christ and in so doing, be nearer to my God. 

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

Persistence

The heat. The humidity. It's real. It's hot. It's SO hot. I feel this--literally--now more than ever before. And it has presented its challenges for me this summer. MS and heat are not the best of friends. And it exacerbates my symptoms, primarily the extreme fatigue. It's something I try to convince myself isn't really there--that it's just a shadow in the dark. But I am realizing it's okay for it to be real. It's okay to not always be okay. What does it feel like? Here is what I felt the other day as I sat outside in the midst of it:

Today I feel so tired it's even hard to talk. The energy it requires makes me feel so helpless. I've been reading about praying like a little child, and so I sit outside, watching my little children and I think of Peyton and a joke I recently heard.

It said, my name isn't Mom.

It's Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom! 

I thought of my sweet, little P-Man. We call him "persistent Peyton" (note the word patient is not the "p" word we have selected for him). Persistent because he keeps coming back: "Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom... ."

And so I sit today and pray to God--persistently, like a little child: "God please..., God hear me..., God I need you, God, God, God, God." And I pray again that the Holy Spirit will intercede for me: 

Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, "Abba, Father."

Galatians 4:6

Daughter

First off--praising Jesus tonight for a clear MRI for Mr. Kaden!!!! Thank you for praying and continuing to pray as he heads into the next three rounds of chemo!!!

***

A friend emailed this week about a recently released article by Josh Barney entitled “They’ll Have to Rewrite the Textbooks.” The article outlines research that indicates “the brain is directly connected to the immune system by vessels previously thought not to exist.”

I feel like we ought not judge too harshly the critics of Christopher Columbus who alleged the earth was flat. We think we know everything—and yet everyday my disease reminds me that we don’t.  This article is just another reminder of the intricacies of our bodies—of the incredible details we cannot comprehend--of what God created. Truly, it is all so unbelievable.  I am so encouraged by this finding, especially in its most notable significance that it may lead to new understandings of diseases like multiple sclerosis.

I am humbled by the Lord’s mercy, and I am reminded of his incredible sovereignty.  He is Lord over all.  He knows every hair on my head and even every vessel in my brain! It reminded me of the mother’s day gift I put together for my mom.  It’s a picture, inside a picture, inside a picture.

Of course, this was not an original idea—a Pinterest find, I’m sure! But the motivation behind it was inspired by a poem written by a dear friend. It is entitled "Daughter" by Caitelen Schneeberger. I will share it here, but I encourage you all to check out her website and her songwriting at www.caitelen.com or click on the poem below. Trust me, you’ll love it!

I just love the idea that when my mother carried me in her womb, the egg that eventually would become a part of Charlotte was already inside of me and thereby, inside of my mom. The intricacy with which He made our bodies and the care our Heavenly Father takes in every fine detail is breathtaking and overwhelming. It reminds me that we can never put our God in a box. He is always BIGGER and GREATER than we can imagine. And for that, I will be ever so thankful.  

POWER

Someone sent me this recently...just had to share! Made me reconsider what it means to "fear the Lord"--to be in such awe of his power and majesty! 

Please keep praying for Kaden, as well. Newest update is that they will NOT remove his central line, after all. Let's continue to pray for healing and for the upcoming MRI! 

Update: Kaden

I wanted to update everyone once more and urge us to continue to pray for Kaden. After much deliberation, the doctors do feel it will be necessary to change his broviac line. They will not be able to place this until next week, pushing everything back and keeping Kaden and the family in the hospital without any time home. Let us pray not only for healing for Kaden and for a safe surgery to replace his central line but also for patience and endurance for Jen and Tim. There lives from a hospital room are not something I can even pretend to imagine. May we lift them up to the Lord in this time of waiting. 

I have been doing an older Bible study by Beth Moore on the book of Esther this summer. Recently, we have been discussing timing. One of the last scenarios she mentions is "When the meantime is God-time." She reminds us of Isaiah 40:31:

...but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
    they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
    they shall walk and not faint.

Let us pray this for Jen and Tim--that their strength may be renewed, not as they wait on the surgery or on the next round of chemo, but as they "wait for the Lord." That their strength will be renewed in Him alone. Oh, may it be so!

Please continue to check my "Prayers for Kaden" Tab, as I will continue updates there! Your prayers are so appreciated!

Like a Child

Thank you for your continued prayers for Kaden. He was placed in the PICU yesterday due to a bacterial infection and very high fever. He is doing much better today, and they are hoping to transfer him back to his floor in the near future. However, there is a possibility they may have to change the central line which is used to give him all his medications and chemo. If this is the case, he would have to undergo another surgery. There is much uncertainty on what direction to go in order to ensure the infection does not return, so please pray for wisdom and discernment for Kaden’s doctors and parents. Please also continue to pray…

·         That his numbers will begin to rise

·         For the postponed MRI—that it will be 100% clear

·         For a positive hearing test tomorrow and that the next three rounds of chemo will also have no impact on his hearing

·         For HOPE and healing

Tonight we are reminded of the urgency and need to pray. I have prayed recently that the Lord would teach me how to pray. It’s an area I would probably have boasted about a month ago—an area in which I have felt much pride. But the Lord never lets us revel too long in our pride, and I have been humbled lately by how overwhelmed I have been with life—at how hard it has been to pray. So I prayed a few weeks back very specifically: Lord, teach me how to pray. Among other things, He brought me to a book called A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller.

As I literally sit typing, praying that you will continue the prayer challenge with me for Kaden, I feel compelled to encourage you not to be afraid to pray. God calls us to come like little children. That means we don’t have to be perfect in our prayers. That means it’s okay if you don’t pray at exactly the same time every morning, or if you forget one morning to pray altogether, or if you don’t know what to say and you just sit in silence asking the Lord to hear your heart cry out for Kaden. No matter where you are at in your prayer life—whether your prayers sound like a seasoned preacher or like a little child--God wants to hear from you.

Miller says, “This is the gospel, the welcoming heart of God. God also cheers when we come to him with our wobbling, unsteady prayers. Jesus does not say, “Come to me, all you who have learned how to concentrate in prayer, whose minds no longer wander, and I will give rest.” No, Jesus opens his arms to his needy children and says, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28, NASB).  The criteria for coming to Jesus is weariness. Come overwhelmed with life. Come with your wandering mind. Come messy.”

Come messy. We are all a mess, aren’t we? So let’s go to God, mess and all, and beg for mercy for this little boy. As the song so rightly puts,

"There is power in the name of Jesus... ."  

THERE IS POWER IN PRAYER!

Our prayers don’t have to be perfect—they just need to come with a genuine belief in the great Father who gave his only Son that we, who are sinners, might have eternal life.

A God that good may not answer the prayers exactly as we want them to be answered, but He will answer in His good and perfect will.

May we continue to come to Jesus like little children—for this little child.

Going on a Mission

Originally written: October 30, 2015

Today Cameron and I went on a date—a “mission,” as he likes to call it. I'm trying to be more intentional about spending time with Cameron and Peyton separately, since they are twins and have done and continue to do so much together. We started at Peace Love and Little Donuts! He chose M&M and Rolo. We sat in the car to eat, and he climbed up in the front seat—such a big deal for the little guy. We talked about God, about being thankful and even about the Holy Spirit (talk about a challenge to explain to a four year old).

Next we went into the toy store to look around. I followed him from one aisle to the next—watched his little eyes dance with joy.  “I’m ready for Arby’s now, Mom,” he told me. I had promised that’s where we would end up. When we got there, I orderedhim a chocolate milkshake (Happy Hour from 2-5pm—small milk shake for $1!!!). I sat there and watched him suck it down (of course, back in the front seat as we sat in the parking lot in front of Marc’s).

And then it dawned on me: our children often call it like it is. This really is my mission.  Moms—this is our mission field--our sweet children—sitting in their car seats, begging us for our attention. So often we look with jealousy or with thankfulness or with such distance at the “real” missionaries in our churches. They live behind the window pane, across an ocean, in a different world. But right before us the Lord has placed each of us our own mission field, our own battlefield. Are we going to bat for our children each day? Are we telling them Truth each morning? “For this is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” 

King

Originally written: October 28, 2015

There is pressure everywhere these days to have the smartest, most athletic, most beautiful, most talented child in the world. I catch flak all the time that my kids aren’t already in organized sports (they just turned four!).  Everywhere I look, I feel the pressure to be already preparing my children to be valedictorians.  Then Brian steps in (ever the voice of reason) and reminds me that they are children!

Most importantly, though, we are constantly having to be reminded that they are children of God!

My friend Alison sent me this link the other day, and it was such an answer to prayer. It reminded me that when my children get to the gates of heaven, He is not going to ask them how many A’s they had on their report card or whether or not they were the all star running back on the football team. Mind you, those things are not bad—in fact, done in the proper perspective (giving your best to glorify God), those things are fabulous. However, those goals as the end result are not. I love this article because it reminds me of the true purpose of living in a world full of sin and the constant temptation to live for me--to live for my recognition and my own glory rather than that of the glory of God and to be a light to the rest of the world. Don’t get me wrong—anyone who knows me at all, knows I am a competitor at heart. I don’t believe in giving everyone a trophy, and as a coach, I probably can't describe my feelings on losing without getting red in the face. However, this article reminds me that unfortunately sports are king in this world, and the attitude with which we approach a game may very well indicate the very attitude with which we will thereby approach life. I encourage you to read the whole article--not just the first few paragraphs:

http://renee-robinson.com/dear-boys-why-i-wont-tell-you-im-proud-of-your-home-run/

I loved the way we talked about it on Sunday at church—it is more the pursuit of holiness that we should be after. When I get to the gates of heaven, the Lord is not going to reflect on how I perfected Charley’s jump shot but on how I molded and trained up her soul.

I pray even now for protection from the temptations of this world because I know it will be a daily struggle.  Let's just say I've got a long way to go from reflecting everything in this article. 

But I am thankful for the reminder of who ought to be King of our lives. 

The Infantry

Originally written: October 27, 2015

The infantry are on sabbatical.  That’s what the doctor has told me, anyway.  The medicine I take for my MS sends roughly 75% of my white blood cells (the infantry) into hiding.  I can assure you this is not a good thing for the winter months and Ohio’s sick season.

Outside of nursing twins, I’ve never been this consistently exhausted in my life.  I can go to bed at 8:15, wake up at 6:20 and feel like I could sleep another 12 hours.  My eyes have weights on them, and there are times where I feel like a statue—no matter how badly I desire to move, my limbs are just too heavy.  I think this is called a cold run amuck on steroids (MS).  I think perhaps I am literally under attack.

I’ve been off my meds for three days now—pulling the infantry out of hiding, in hopes to slaughter the cold in its tracks (while praying in my head that I won’t wake up and not feel my legs or hands or…).  The nurse says I need to get back on those meds tomorrow.

So I’m grumpy and ridiculous (and on my period), and at one point today sat in the middle of the kitchen floor crying.  My dear, sweet husband doesn’t know what to do in these moments, so he gave me a hug and took the kids outside. 

My mode of attack is to stay germ free.  Here are some of my top tips:

1.      Washing my hands more.

2.      Not sharing drinks with my children. (Not going to lie—this one breaks my heart.)

3.      Giving backwards high-fives. My team has committed to help me stay “sick-free” and is willing to give me backwards high-fives, which apparently are “in” right now. My mother’s response to my ingenious idea: You still need to wash the back of your hands, you know.

4.      Smoothies. We make smoothies every morning—shout out to the Nutri-Ninja! We add spinach and carrots, which are a great way to get veggies in my toddlers!

5.      Vitamins. I’m trying to take a women’s multi-vitamin daily. And again, it’s a healthy habit that encourages my kids to take their Flintstone vitamins!

6.      Healthy eating.  Today’s slow cooker beef roast recipe looks like this:

·         Chicken broth

·         Can of heart healthy mushroom soup

·         Carrots

·         Salt/Pepper

·         Packet of Lipton’s Onion Soup mix

·         A tiny bit of Worcestershire sauce

·         Parsley

·         A bunch of leftover veggies I just threw in!

7.      Eating more (meaning healthy snacks throughout the day to give me more energy—almond butter and honey with bananas is a yummy favorite!).

Yet most importantly, I’ve been reminded the Great Physician lives within me and He is really the only one who can heal.  I am confused by this exhaustion because it seems to be taking more than my physical health.  For example, the other day I had to make a difficult decision. How can it be that God desires me to miss Bible Study? I thought, beating myself up for being so tired and yet recognizing my limit closing in on me from all directions. And yet, I know He is calling me to obedience. Even when it’s not what I want, even though I desperately want to hop in my car and go to the morning study. I know I need to listen.  Your will and not my own.  Immeasurably more than all I ask or imagine. 

This week has been an exercise in trust, as I have felt that if this exhaustion continues there is no way that I can. 

Yet I was reminded last night as I read from Elizabeth Eliot that my strength is in the Lord and that to fear the future is a futile waste of energy.  She says it so beautifully: “There is no need to fear the future, God is already there… .”  

And I just love it: He is already there! He was and is and ever will be.