Last week I spent several days being my husband’s groupie.  He played in a band in front of 16,000 people.  They rocked it out at Philip’s Arena and  it was incredible.

I love you Michael Day.  You are one amazing man and bass player.  I couldn’t be more proud to be your wife.

Here are a few photos that can tell the story of the fun we’ve been having a little better than my babbling.

Michael loading in his equipment at the docks behind Philips Arena.

The crowd.  Philips Arena was full.

The band, rockin’ out.

And, seriously -we know that nothing about this conference was really about the musicians. They were simply there to create an energized environment. … but in my heart, Michael Day is definitely a ROCK STAR!

My sweet (and sometime very silly) children. I’m blessed to be their mama.

It’s 6:45. A beautifully cool morning, I’m perched on my favorite blue chair out on my back deck. I’m awaiting the day’s events to begin.  While children are still sleeping, I’m preparing for the the hubbub of activity with some Scripture, coffee in my favorite cup, and a few deep breaths.

With all of this Olympics watching going on at our house these past few days- the opening ceremonies,  the water polo, the weight-lifting,  the swimming, the gymnastics- I can’t help but feel like my life as a mother qualifies me as an olympian.  The stamina needed on a day to day basis, for simply making it to the next heat is exhausting.

There are the regular entries, such as cleaning and laundry. the dishes. the diaper changing and general room tidying.  and reading books, and more laundry.  the home work.  overseeing the piano practice.  hourly sweeping of the goldfish crumbs and play doh pieces. And these are the simple events.

What about the grocery store challenge, with all three kids?  Who doesn’t need immense strength for that struggle?  And the biathlon event known as the overflowing toilet that must be attended to in the middle of cooking dinner.  If that doesn’t need untold amounts of stamina, I don’t know what does.

Those are just the physical events… There are emotional and spiritual rounds of solving behavioral dilemmas that are mind boggling, massive temper tantrums that need redirecting, sibling squabbles that seem uncontrollable and character building that is slow, if not impossible.

Every day is a marathon.  From sun up to sun down, the rounds are perpetual, but the medal stand is nowhere in sight.  Certainly expectations for “the gold” are low.

It would be easy to feel completely overwhelmed and unprepared, even unable or incapacitated if it weren’t for this:  I don’t have to win. No doubt, I should participate like I want to win, but truly I just have to do my best, following His example.  There is a crown for all of the faithful athletes who love Him. That is His promise.  And the good news:  He will help me make it to the end.  After all, He knows what it is like to run the race and cross the finish line.

In Paul’s letter to Timothy, when his life’s race was ending, he said this in 2Timothy 4:

⁶ For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand. ⁷ I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. ⁸ Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing.

I am no where near being poured out like the drink offering he talks about at the end of life.  Its not even close.  This marathon I’m running isn’t even halfway finished.  In spite of the daily trials, I’m called to be faithful and love Him.  When the time comes to cross at the finish, by His grace alone I’ll be able to say I’ve finished well.  only by His grace…

In the mean time, I hear the pitter patter of little feet and I know its time… Runners, take your mark…  Let the day begin, with this from Hebrews 12:1-2 in mind:

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ² looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

Mid conversation with a friend this morning, I remembered something…

As a child we spent significant time with my Mamaw and Papaw in the summers, out in Ottumwa, Iowa.  These were summers of Hy-Vee ice cream, playing outside, trips to the pool, picking strawberries and snapping peas.  I can’t tell you exactly when this specific event happened; I was in elementary school, but that’s about as good as my memory gets.

At any rate, we were headed somewhere with my grandparents.  My Mamaw, true to form, was giving instructions.  “Watch out for that car!” and “Look out!” and “You better slow down!”  Clearly she had opinions about my Papaw’s driving – and she was emphatic.  This was typical whenever we rode somewhere.

Let me insert important information here:  My Mamaw was deaf.  She lost her hearing as a child, so she knew how to talk, but she could not hear. She would read lips to gain understanding of what others were saying. So, when these conversations played out in the car it sounded like this:  my Mamaw would give her assertions quite loudly – and my Papaw would then respond to her, almost inaudibly but his lips moving.

I will tell you a lot of the time I couldn’t tell exactly how he was responding, but his voice was quiet.  And he would say things like, “I know how to drive.” and those typical types of responses.  But one time, and this was what I remembered today, he said to her ,slowly to be sure she understood, “You sure are being a good back-seat driver in the front seat!” With the toss of her hand she waved him off and said, “Oh Paw!”  And we all had a good laugh.

I can still hear their conversation like it happened last week.

back-seat driver in the front seat.

hmmmm.

And I realize that there are times I could be given this title.  So often I find myself sitting nearby the driver’s seat of my life, giving a shout out about the direction my life is taking.  “Watch out!  Don’t You see that obstacle? Shouldn’t we take a different route?!”  My concerns are human in nature.

In those moments, when I’m being that “back-seat driver in the front seat”  He responds to me quietly, with great peace and calmness. After all, he doesn’t need to shout the truth.   “I’ve got the wheel.  I’m a good driver.  I know the way…”  And honestly, sometimes I just need to be reminded, because I know He is a much better driver than I am.

Here’s how he keeps me on track, gently coaxing my heart:

from Psalm 32:
7 I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will guide you with My eye.

from Psalm 37:
4Delight yourself also in the Lord,
And He shall give you the desires of your heart.
⁵ Commit your way to the Lord,
Trust also in Him,
And He shall bring it to pass.

and from Psalm 128:
1 Blessed is every one who fears the Lord,
Who walks in His ways.

When I was a child, there was a book we read as a family a lot.  It was from the “Sweet Pickles” collection called, “Me Too, Iguana.”  I can still hear my Dad saying it at just the right time, whenever my sister and I were struggling, “Me too, iguana…” he’d say.  and we knew exactly what he meant.

I’m sure you’re wondering what it was all about, so I’ll tell you. Iguana was an animal character, beautiful and green, living in a small town with all of her animal friends.  But, Iguana had a problem.  She wanted to be like everyone else.  In the story she tries to dress up with a trunk like Elephant’s, stripes like Zebra’s, and feathers like Stork’s.  And she makes quite a mess of things. Everyone around her sees her problem and devises a plan; in the end they convince her that she is best as an Iguana.

Recently I found this story on the iTunes book store and read it to my sweet boy, Isaac.  Oh how the memories rushed in of my dad reminding us that we didn’t need to be like everyone else.   It is a hard lesson to learn. After all this time, I’m still working on it as an adult.

When I start to think about it, it is almost embarrassing how often I wish my life was like someone else’s…  A different car- what would it be like to drive that new sporty VW bug?  Maybe a newer house- we’ve lived here quite a while, surely something more upscale is in order. How about a change in my calling – motherhood is rough sometimes, ya know. A new venue – couldn’t we do this thing called life in a different city?  And I look around at what is happening in my friends’ and acquaintance’s lives – or what others are talking about on Facebook or Pinterest (Heaven help me! I’m just being honest here) and I say in my heart, “Me too!”  just like Iguana…

But God says, “What I have for you, is just for you.  I’ve planned this especially for your life, it is my very best for your situation. Don’t look at others and what I’ve planned for them.  Look at me.”  The only one I should say, “Me too!” about is Jesus himself – and that can only happen when I keep my eyes on Him.  And when that takes place, when I focus on Him with my whole heart,   I can settle into what His desires are for me – and my heart is satisfied in Him and His will.  Everything else fades away and seems so much less important.

Jeremiah 29:11 couldn’t be more clear or relevant tonight:

For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.

and Psalm 37:4&5 too:

My sweet baby doll is going through a phase.  Sitting at the table, crayons or paint brush in hand she is determined to be like the big kids.  And she draws and colors and paints in her three year old way.  But this week the phase has taken a unique turn because she regularly involves me in her efforts.  She wants me to draw  a heart on paper for her to color.

The Minnie Mouse coloring book won’t do.  The Dora sticker and color book won’t do.  Only Mommy’s hand drawn heart will fit the bill.  It could be while I’m up to my elbows in suds doing dishes, or folding laundry, or as I’m standing over a boiling pot of pasta.  She knows no boundaries, “Mommy!  I need a heart on this paper,” she says to me.

And I draw one for her.  Because I love her.  again and again and again.

One day it seemed I had drawn hundreds of hearts for her to fill in with colors.  You think I’m kidding, I know, but I’m absolutely serious. I am human, so eventually I grew a bit weary of this whole “drawing hearts” phase.  When the day came to a close,  and my baby girl was tucked in her bed, I walked the house in the stillness, picking up the colored-heart-papers she had strewn around the house.

In the quietness, I was reminded of something so sweet.

I have a Heavenly Father who never tires of telling me that He loves me.  Regardless of whatever phase I am in, He lovingly, unconditionally, scripts His love across my heart in bright bold colors of lovingkindness, mercy and grace. He’s assuring me,  affirming me that He loves me without human limitations.

Even now, with these thoughts in mind, my heart swells up, overflowing with His love.  And I pray with every ounce of my being that I will love my children better, imitating the Father’s love for me.

In His Word He has scripted hearts for me, and I’ve been thinking about them tonight…

from Romans 5:
⁵ Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.  ⁶ For when we were still without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. ⁷ For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet perhaps for a good man someone would even dare to die. ⁸ But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

and Romans 8:
³⁸ For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, ³⁹ nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

1John 3:
1Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!

and from Ephesians 2:
⁴ But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, ⁵ even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), ⁶ and raised us up together, and madeus sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

And there are so many many many more love letters, from my Heavenly Father – brilliantly, lovingly scripted – from His heart to mine.  It is a never-ending, forever and ever love  that He gives – and I am so grateful to know it and receive it.  After all, only His love will do.

Thank you Heavenly Father for the love You have penned in your word.  My heart is so full, knowing this love, soaking it in.  Help me to love more fully and deeply because of the daily lovingkindness you show to me.  amen.

Hear are words to a song that I listened to this evening, while I was working in my kitchen…  and it dawns on me just how true it is!

When God dips His love in my heart

When God dips His pen of love in my heart
And He writes my soul a message He wants me to know
His spirit all divine fills a sinful soul of mine
When God dips His love in my heart

Well I said I wouldn’t tell it to a livin’ soul
How He brought salvation and He made me whole
But I found I couldn’t hide such a love as Jesus did impart
Well He made me laugh and He made me cry, set my sinful soul on fire
When God dips His love in my heart

Well sometimes though the way is dreary, dark and cold
And some unburdened sorrow keeps me from the goal
I go to God in prayer, I can always find Him there
To whisper sweet peace to my soul

He walked up every step of Calvary’s rugged way
And gave His life completely to bring a better day
My life was steeped in sin but in love He took me in
His blood washed away every stain

(my mom and dad, earlier this summer at the beach…)

Really, its for all of the other men in our extended family who have been previously or are currently full-time vocational pastors.  Okay- in my family?  That’s a lot.  What do I mean by a lot? From the Young side of the family and the Brubacher side, there’s my grandpa, my dad, four uncles and now four cousins.

I was a P.K. (Pastor’s Kid) growing up – and so were a lot of my cousins…

(Light bulb appears over  your head) Ahhhhh… Now you understand, don’t you?

I felt the need to explain why I’m about to tell you a joke on my blog.  And this is why:  at any time in my life as a child, it could have happened that I might have been one of these children in this anecdote.  And I say “might” and “could” because the scenario seems vaguely familiar, not because it actually took place.

At any rate – this one’s for some of my favorite pastors…

*****************************************************

There were three children playing at the park together.  One of the children said to the other two, “My dad is the best because he is a business man and he owns a factory!”  The other two children disagreed.  The second child said, “No way!  My dad is way better because he is a farmer and owns lots of land!”  The other two children disagreed again.

The third child piped up and said, “My dad is the best dad because he is a Pastor and he owns hell!”  And the other two children said, “No way!”  and “That’s not true!”

And the third child said, “Yes-huh!  My mom said just the other day that a couple people from church came to his office and gave it to him…”

*************************************

The P.K. in me could not resist!  Have a happy Monday!

There I was, on a Sunday afternoon, standing in the women’s clothing section of Belk’s Department Store.  I felt like I was trying to beat the clock, looking, searching for anything that would work before the store closed.  Normally I don’t like wardrobe pressure, but certainly not for such an important event.

Nothing fit right.  Everything seemed ridiculous.  Clothes that I would usually like looked completely inappropriate.  Summery blouses, flowery dresses, resort wear to formal business wear.  It all just felt wrong.

wrong. wrong. wrong.

So there I stood, like a stranger in a foreign land, otherwise known as known as Ladies’ Sportswear, with tears welling up, completely sad and frustrated. What was I looking for?  Well, I was trying to figure out what to wear to a funeral.

Now, I’m not actually going to a funeral.  Well, not yet, I suppose.  But, two weeks ago the proposition seemed realistic.   My grandpa was in the hospital and the family had been called in to say their goodbyes.  In line with those events, I was trying to be prepared, so that when the call came I wouldn’t have to run around town in a flap.  I could pack my bags and catch a plane.   Since then he has rallied and is actually back at home with my grandma.  For the moment, things seem to have stabilized.  Which is good, because it has given me time to think.

Over the past two weeks, since my shopping experience, I’ve had time to really consider the situation.  What does one wear to a funeral?  My grandfather is a believer.  At 90 it is reasonable to think he is on the last leg of his journey, headed home to Heaven.  I’ve been looking at Scripture, trying to get a clue about how to feel about this funeral that looms in the distance.  For me, there’s a complete overhaul going on : how should I view all of these things?

The only  sure thing about this earthly life is that it ends, not just for my Grandpa, but for us all.  This fact deserves significant consideration, as much as I’d rather avoid thinking about it. That is why I’m writing this now, because my heart is trying so hard to understand.  “Lord Jesus, please make it plain.”  That has been my prayer.

First and foremost, there is good news to take into account!  Let me share it with you:

from Philippians 3:
²⁰ For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ,²¹ who will transform our lowly body that it may be conformed to His glorious body, according to the working by which He is able even to subdue all things to Himself.

from Hebrews 11:
¹³ These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them,^[c] embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. ¹⁴ For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland. ¹⁵ And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. ¹⁶ But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.

and these words from 1 Peter 1:
³ Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,⁴ to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, ⁵ who are kept by the power of God through faith for salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. ⁶ In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, ⁷ that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, ⁸ whom having not seen^[a] you love. Though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, ⁹ receiving the end of your faith—the salvation of your souls.

Here is the truth:  if I believe fully with my heart what I’ve read over and over again, I cannot promote gloom and doom. This Scripture above is glorious, wonderful news.  There are many, many, many more Scriptures that give so much confidence and peace.  For those who are followers of Christ, death can be a glorious, celebration;  a reuniting with our Heavenly Father who has been waiting for us.  It doesn’t mean we, here, don’t miss them or can’t be sad by the earthly loss of their presence;  it just means there is a solid, unshakeable confidence in the fact that there is something so much infinitely better than being here, on earth with us.

That is the hard part for me.  To be absent from the body, is to be present with the Lord, right?  But that also means not present here, with me.  My heart cannot contend with this information outside of the realm of a merciful God who loves me regardless of my faithless, selfish shortcomings.  How could it possibly be that my loved ones should be taken?   But, God himself promises to be present, the fulness in spite of loss, the sip of joy from a sorrowful cup, peace mid great turmoil.  I don’t know exactly how to accept it, but to trust His lovingkindness and His omniscience.

I have never thought about death and funerals and dying as much as I have over the past two weeks.  But, I can tell you when the day comes for me to attend a funeral- and it may be a long time from now, I don’t know-  I know what I will be wearing. Well, I can’t tell you the physical clothing I’ll wear – seriously, I had little success at Belk’s.  But, I can tell you that, with the help of the Holy Spirit,  I will don a spiritual garment of joy, with accessories of peace and assurance.      I can’t think of a more beautiful addition to my wardrobe than that.

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. Psalm 116:15