A Sneak Peek To Summertime

skating2

Adjusting the straps of his backpack, he looked over his shoulder and said, “Mom, today will be hard.”  Silently, I nodded.  To cover up my quiet affirmation, I threw him a quick glance and said,  “Oh, but remember, only 3 more Mondays!”

Mondays are always hard for him.  Mondays after a long spring break are even harder.  And Mondays after a long spring break when Paw-Paw has been here are nearly impossible to face for a young boy.

Over Spring Break I caught a glimpse of what awaits me in just 3 short weeks.  Summer break starts early for us, and we have the gift of 12 full weeks with my boys here all day, every day.  And I can’t wait.

Each summer I find myself with expectations of what our days will look like.  When the boys were little, I would organize our day in such a way that time passed quickly while we created memories of what I thought summer was all about.  As they are getting older, I am realizing they have their own ideas of the ideal summer.  No longer are blowing bubbles and coloring sidewalks with chalk a highlight of the day.  I’m learning to change with them.  While I’m learning to change, I’m realizing that my expectations need to change with me.

The greatest gift I can give myself before summer kicks off is a healthy dose of realistic expectations.  Too many times I find myself setting expectations that lead only to disappointment.  And the bottom line is that I only have a total of 18 summers with my boys.  I want to make them count.  That alone puts pressure on me causing me to set standards and expectations that taunt me with the threat of passing time and failed days.

I want to wipe away the  sneer of the clock and to hush the reminders of the times I’ve blown it.

Expectations set the stage for how we experience life.  A view from the audience is drastically different than a view from backstage.  My perspective during the heat of the summer will affect everything.

On the last night of summer, when I tuck them into bed, I want to be able to look them in the eyes and say, “I had the best summer of my life with you.  I loved every second I had with you and am so grateful for the memories we created.”  Sometimes for me to truly enjoy the moments I have to start at the end and work backwards.  What do I want to feel when it’s all over?  I want no regrets.  I can’t control what circumstances I may face, but I can control my attitude and how I respond to the moments.

This summer I’m starting early.  Instead of only focusing on intentionally creating a memorable summer for my kids, I am intentionally creating realistic expectations in my heart that will allow me to experience each moment (the good and the bad) with grace.

To hold me accountable, I’m writing a list and sharing it here with you.  It is not a summer to-do list, it’s a summer to-expect list.  I may not do all I want to do, it may not look the way I imagine, but if I set my perspective right, I can expect to reach the end of the summer and look back at the days with no regrets over time that moves too fast and moments that took new shapes.

Check back Wednesday when I will share my realistic summer expectations here.  In the meantime, would you consider making a list too?  A list of your hopes for the summer?  A list of your expectations and desires?  And maybe Wednesday, you could share your heart with me too?

I am not the Holy Spirit

deer2

Psalm 46:10 Be still, and know that I am God;  I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the world.

Steve and I have this little thing.  This little thing where I get in a little rut and begin grumbling about all the ways I can’t keep the house clean, and how no one appreciates what I do, and no one understands.  Yada, yada, ya.  You ever find yourself in these patterns?

I appreciate how Steve engages with me when I’m stuck here.  He usually smiles and says, “Just love me.”  He knows I can’t fight back to that.  He’s not telling me how he has it harder or how yes he does understand or yes he does help.  He simply asks that I love him. Because when I love him, I can more easily look over the yuck around me.

God says the same thing in different words.  Essentially, God is saying to me, “Just love me.” Do you hear how He asks you this same thing? When I just love God, I am free to enjoy Him.  When I enjoy Him, I am free to love and enjoy these lives He’s entwined with mine.

I am not the family holy spirit.  I cannot change the heart of my child.  I cannot control my husband.  I suddenly understand the freedom in this revelation.  This freedom allows me to do what God asks me to do.  Simply love Him.

I think I had this running dialogue with God going on in my head.  Something like, “God, they won’t do what I say to do.  They are stubborn.  They have a mind of their own.  No matter how I try, I can’t change their responses.”  Because He is gracious and compassionate, He allows me to try to take His job away.  He knows I learn best when I experience the struggle firsthand.  Only when I come to the point of realizing I simply cannot am I able to turn to Him with my arms held high.  Then I hear Him say to me, “Just love me.”

Some things with my family are so stinking easy.  Then there are the things that seem impossible.  These are typically the things that matter the most.  The heart issues.  Usually at this point, I begin to see I have the same heart issues expressed differently.

I’ve come to realize my job description as “Mom” and “Wife”  doesn’t include “God” in it.  I give it my best shot anyway.  On any given day, I’m attempting with everything in me to direct their heart’s every moves.  These are the days I feel worn down and defeated.  These are the days I feel like I’m failing as a mom and wife.  The only thing I’m truly failing at is being god.  Our house is only big enough for one God.

Psalm 46:10 has been my life verse for many years.  Recently, it has taken on new life to me.  I particularly like this translation:

New American Standard Bible 

“Cease striving and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

It’s like I can hear His patient whisper saying to me, “Renee, just stop trying so hard to do my job.  Cease striving.  I’m God, not you.  I ask you to love me and let me be God to your children and your husband for they are mine just as you are.”

Sometimes I forget that my children are His children first.  I forget He is creating a story in them like He is creating in me.  I forget that the struggles that have drawn me to Him my children may experience and be drawn to Him too.  If I take away His job, I may effectively take away their ability to love Him in ways they are desperate to love Him.

Sometimes I believe that to be a good mom, I have to have good children.  Or to be a good wife, my marriage has to be rosy all the time.  This lie causes me to try harder.  I become performance-driven, not grace-livin’.

When I’m driven by performance, I’m striving too hard.  I’m unable to be still.  When I’m driven by grace, I experience the liberation of the lie that tells me to get the results I want, I must be in control of everyone around me.

Such freedom lies in two simple words “Be still”.

Such beauty is lived with 3 simple words “Just love Me.”

Do you have any areas He’s asked you to be still?  To release your hold and just love Him?

 

When I Want To Have My Own Way For Once

IMG_1471

[box] John 13:15 I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.[/box]

“I don’t understand.  Why can’t I just do what I want sometimes?”

The car was running, kids were loading up, coffee was filling to-go cups, and Steve and I exchanged glances as if to say, “Who takes this one?”  The statement wasn’t a theologically deep one.  It was just one that we didn’t want to brush right over.  It’s the heart of human nature to desire what we want.  We are selfish little creatures.  At the root of most of our conflicts is the desire to get our own way.

The issue revolved around chasing down foul balls at the local college baseball games.  You see, this is a huge deal to kids.  With each foul ball turned in, you receive $1 for the concession stand.  A few foul balls gets you all the junk food your parents refuse you.  When the ball goes foul, the Me First Monster emerges from within each child, and the monsters race.  And sometimes fight.  And sometimes call names.  At least behind the backs of the other kids accused of cheating, when really the only thing they could be accused of is trying their hardest to earn some candy.

As Steve poured coffee, he relayed a story to me about how one of my sweet children had the power to share a foul ball with a little boy who desperately wanted a foul ball.  However, the Me First Monster spoke for my sweet child and never gave that little boy his wish.  Steve could have forced him to share his ball. He could’ve demanded my son do the right thing, and he would’ve because he’s obedient.  But the heart.  The heart would lie seething under the weight of the obedience.  As parents we can’t change the heart of our children.  We can demand obedience, but what if they obey and the heart inside rebels?  I find that a far scarier response.

Lying on the counter was an extra $1 coupon that never even went used.  My son had the power to share, but he saved it for himself and never even used it.  He looked down at it and said, “I just want to do it my way sometimes.”  He placed his desires above another’s.  I can relate.  You too?

I said it anyway.  I knew he would roll his eyes and dismiss my comment.  I knew his mind was thinking, here she goes again taking it all spiritual and all.  But I did it because I only have a few years to get these little nuggets in.

“Before you make any decision, you should ask yourself if that is the choice Jesus would want you to make.”

Yep, the eyes rolled.  “Mo-oom.  Do I really always have to do it the way Jesus wants?”

Again, Steve and I did the little exchange that says, “Who’s turn?”  We both went in.  “Yes, everything we do, we should do it Jesus’ way.  Jesus died for our sins because He loves us more than we can possibly ever imagine.  And when he was here, he served.  He didn’t look to his own interests first.  He served.  Jesus was not selfish.  Jesus was a servant.  He modeled to us servanthood – putting the needs of others before our own desires.”

Tomorrow is the day of the Last Supper.  The night Jesus was betrayed by one of his very own into the hands that would kill him the next day.  Jesus knew it was going to happen.  He even knew who the betrayer was.  He was fully God and fully man.  With all his knowledge, he willingly died for me. But like so much of the Bible, I read something and say, “What?!”  Because Christ is more than we can fathom.

The night of the Passover Feast, Jesus stood up from the table and began washing the feet of his disciples.  I believe I would respond like Peter.  No way, you can’t wash my feet, I should wash yours.  But Jesus carried on washing the feet of his disciples.

John 13: 12-17 “When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place.  “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them.  “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am.  Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.  I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.  I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.  Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”

Lord, thank you that you modeled for us servanthood.  Give me a heart that desires to do things your way.  Give me a heart that desires to serve not only out of obedience but out of a deep love for you and for others.  Amen.

PS – The pictures I use rarely match up with the children used in the story.  Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t.  🙂

 

When She Began Seeking Happiness

DSC_1154

[box] Luke 19:40 I tell you if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.[/box]

From the moment she began to speak, I hung on every word.  She stood in front of the entire congregation and shared how she had everything in life she ever desired- the beautiful house, loving marriage, healthy & vibrant kids.  She had everything she ever dreamed of.  Yet she was always seeking happiness.  Something was missing despite having it all- or so she thought.

When she closed her time with the grinning nod that says thank you, my instinctual nature took over. I clapped.  How could I not?  Except that the culture of my church is one that is quietly reserved.  I didn’t sit in the pew and contemplate should I clap or should I not. Thoughts never went through my head at all.  This is a theme is it not?  I simply hung on her words and saw Jesus illuminating her.  He was shining right through her to the point you couldn’t help but respond.  Jesus is like that.  He draws a response out of you that you never saw coming.

When you see Jesus, you throw caution to the wind.  When you see Jesus, you suddenly care less about what others think and find yourself falling over your own shoes to follow him.

My husband saved me from embarrassing myself by clapping with me. Many others clapped as well.  I don’t believe they joined in to save me from embarrassment.  The celebration of a life saved was inside of them as well.  In the midst of the clapping, Steve leaned over and whispered, “People don’t normally clap during the service.”

“I’m sorry, that deserved a clap.”  I’m not rebellious.  I just honestly didn’t think.  I responded immediately.

He smiled back, “I agree.”  I knew he did.

Yesterday was Palm Sunday.  The day Jesus entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey.  The beginning of the week that led to his crucifixion and resurrection.   Palm Sunday was a day the crowds waved palm branches as the King rode in. The same people praising his name demanded his crucifixion only days later.

As the crowds of disciples cheered, the Pharisees shouted at Jesus to quiet the crowds down, to rebuke them.  Jesus responded in Luke 19:40 “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

Jesus is uncontainable.  We can keep quiet, but he will still be heard and seen.  Our congregation could have withheld our applause, and Jesus would have been seen no less. He is uncontainable.  Creation cries out His glory.

Where do you see Jesus illuminated in your life right now? Where do you see the stones crying out in the moments that form your days?

Lord, you entered into your death knowing what you were facing.  It didn’t surprise you.  You came willingly – to die for your children.  My mind can’t begin to grasp the depth of your love. Let the stones cry out this week.  Loud.  Let everyone see the love that hung on a cross and a life resurrected to carry us into eternity.

Why We Must Celebrate Small Beginnings

whitehouse 1
whitehouse2
whitehouse3

Zechariah 4:10 “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.”

“Mommy, when I’m a man, I want a teeny-tiny house.  Because they are so cute.  I don’t like big houses.” 

I smiled as I thought back to the first house Steve and I lived in after getting married.  A little white cottage- so cute, so quaint.  I remember feeling just like Andrew.  How I was drawn that that teeny-tiny house and envisioned sweet moments as we started our new lives as husband and wife.

Less than 6 months later the smallness that once drew us to that house drove us away. What seemed cute and cuddly became suffocating, and we were looking to expand.  Quickly.

But.  In the small moments of that teeny, little cottage, we created the beginnings of a beautiful life together.  In the smallness, we were forced to be together.  It was basically one room, we were always together.  In the small we learned to communicate really well.  In the small we learned to celebrate simply.  In the small we placed our trust in Christ and began new lives together in Him.  A lot happened in our small beginnings.

Sometimes I look back and wish I had celebrated the small a little bit longer.  I wish I had not followed the ways of the world to wanting bigger faster.  There’s always room for a second chance.  Our lives are full of small beginnings.

For those of us who want to see God grow something new in us, we can celebrate the small beginnings.  I want more patience with my kids. I can’t snap my fingers and become the patient person I strive to be.  I ask God, and he is faithful to give me lots of practice.  And he rejoices to see the work begin.   Therefore, I pray He gives me a heart like His that rejoices to see the work begin.  A heart that celebrates small beginnings.

Where do you see small beginnings in your life right now?

I Feel Like Someone Is Watching Me

IMG_1428b

“Mom, do you ever feel like someone is watching you?  Sometimes I feel like I’m on tv and my friends are watching me.”

I paused as memories of my childhood trickled in.  I remember sitting in my room wondering if my grandfather watched from Heaven.  I always wondered if I was on tv.  I mean, if I can see other kids on tv, can they see me?  I also thought that God created the world in black and white and one day added a splash of color.  That’s for another topic altogether.  My dad never got frustrated explaining over and over to me that God created in color from the beginning of time.  There were lots of other things my kid brain didn’t understand.  I thought north meant up.  If you were driving up a mountain, you must be driving north because it’s up.  Right? The fact that we lived on the outer surface of the earth?  Too complex for me.  I wasn’t much of a deep thinker as a kid.  A lot of pondering that went nowhere except in circles.

But I absolutely could relate to my son in how he felt.  I often felt as a child that I was being watched.  Of course, I aged and matured and came to realize that I was only being watched by One all the time.  You would think that would be enough to keep me on my toes.  I mean the God of the universe as your constant audience, shouldn’t that make me desire to act out of my best behavior?

The reality is that on a daily basis, I forget He is constantly watching over me.  Partly because I know that when I accepted Christ as my savior, everything changed.  I realized I didn’t have to “be good” to earn a spot in heaven.  I realized that when He sees me, He sees the blood of Christ washing over me.  That is my acceptance.

I wish I could say that everyday I lived with overwhelming gratitude for the fact that in my ugliest moments, He stills sees me through the blood of Christ.  But I get caught up in my days and lose sight.  I lose my gratitude and my perspective.

Feeling like someone is watching makes my son desire to act a certain way.  I don’t want to merely act.  I want my heart transformed.  I want the desire to be so strong that acting is impossible.  Acting becomes being.

Grace is a word that is used so frequently we tend to forget what it actually means.  Grace is unmerited favor.  It’s getting something I don’t deserve.

I lived for 23 years believing in God.  Believing in God didn’t earn me a spot in Heaven. Placing my trust in Christ at 23 placed my name in His book.  That day I received unmerited favor.  I didn’t deserve Heaven, but He gave it to me because I accepted His son.  That should cover every moment of my day.

I don’t need to act a certain way because He is watching me.  Instead I need to stay in a constant state of gratitude.  Grateful he saved me.  Gratitude for salvation turns acting into being.

 

When God Shows Us A Glimpse

DSC_5826-652x400

Rarely can I look back at my life, review the story God is writing, and see chapters where life has been a day at the beach followed by a hunger for more of Christ.  The chapters of my life that have drawn me closer to him are the ones written with tear stains covering words, sweat beads mingled with sentences, and a little bit of blood on the edges of the paper. These chapters make me appreciate the day at the beach chapters.  They make those beach chapters that much sweeter.

It’s a fight.  Life is a fight. As we are in the midst of the daily struggles, he continues writing. The story continues to unfold chapter after chapter.  He’s writing a story for me.  And he’s writing a story for you.  But there’s another story he’s writing.  It’s the one that connects each of these stories together.

When he allows me the tiniest glimpse of that story – the one he is connecting- well, I find myself overwhelmed.  Overwhelmed by grace.  I find these glimpses most often when I’m allowing myself to get uncomfortable with God.

I’m writing at (in)courage today.  Join me there for today’s post where I share one of these glimpses.

[box] Back in October I participated in a 31 day challenge of writing on one topic for a month.  This was in the midst of Seeking Christmas being released.  It was a crazy time, and God met me there.  I wrote on Getting Uncomfortable with God.  God had me in some mighty uncomfortable spots.  You can read the entire series here.[/box]