friends and loved ones

Ebenezer…

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On this beautiful Sunday I’ve been feeling grumpy.  Michael has been gone for an hour because he is playing bass for worship this morning.  I love the fact that my husband is willing to make the sacrifice. However I am not so thrilled with my obligation to then get my beautiful children ready and out the door to church alone.

I think I could write a whole Dr. Seus-ish book about it:

“Getting kids ready for church by myself causes a fit.

I do not like it  no, not one little bit.”

My rhyme could go on and on – but I won’t bore you.

Today I decided to turn my attention away from the grumpies and think on things that I am thankful for.  This usually changes my attitude almost instantly.  In the words of one of my favorite hymns, “Here I raise my Ebenezer…”  And that is exactly what I’m going to do.  I am going to write down (instead of my ill-advised, sour-puss, Dr.Seus poem) what God has done for me and hopefully move to a place of gratitude!

I am thankful :

*for a wonderful, incredibly talented, loving, mind-reading husband – who also happens to be good at doing laundry.

*for three beautiful children who remind me of God’s love on a daily basis.

*for parents (and in laws too) who regularly and lovingly invest in our family.

*for a family tree that has the rich soil of God’s grace at its roots and the fruit of His Spirit blooming from the  branches.

*for my home and everything earthly that I could possibly need,  provided by my  generous Heavenly Father.

*for the gift of music that has permeated my life and my home my entire 35 years – there is no joy like it.

*for the power of forgiveness and restoration that has been demonstrated to me by those who know me best and still love me. (especially my sister…)

*for friendships near and far that on many days are a life line for my sanity and proper behavior…

*for an english teacher,  who a long time ago taught me the value of good grammar and made me memorize a large portion of Romans 6.  I was forever changed.

*for a great grandmother who lived a life unlike anyone else I know, and instilled in me the love of poetry, laughter, and big gaudy jewelry (a la Miss Leila).

*for the hope of Eternal Life, extravagantly purchased by my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

I am blessed…  after all of that there is no doubt, even if I do have to get ready for church once in a while without my partner in crime.   I finish with words from a hymn, a beautiful reminder of the true goodness and grace that flows down from the Heavenly Father to all who receive Him.

“Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing”

Come Thou Fount of every blessing
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of God’s unchanging love.

Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I’m come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let that grace now like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

 

friends and loved ones · in my kitchen

digestion

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I promise.  This is not going to be as gross as the title might indicate… My sweet baby girl turns 18 months old on Sunday.  Her eating patterns are developing.   Her appetite is growing.  These days she does manage to get a lot of what she eats into her mouth on her own.  Its all quite amusing to watch.

And believe me when I tell you that she gives me plenty of opportunity to see exactly what she is doing.  In recent days it has come to pass that Mackenzie likes to take her time eating.  I can’t pinpoint the exact day that it started, but I now have to budget a significant amount of time for eating.  She is not in a hurry.

This morning, for instance,  she was halfway through one small pancake, a few bites of cheese and a quarter of a half of banana – at the forty-five minute marker!  She eats a bite, she chatters, she licks her spoon, she takes a drink… she chatters some more, she moves things around on her tray and then she might take another bite.  Ahhh the luxury of a toddler.

Michael and I discussed this morning how Mackenzie seems to take after Grandpa Brock.  He was a man who took his time at the table.  I remember one family dinner on Easter Sunday, shortly after Michael and I were married, Grandpa Brock had taken maybe two bites of his meal while the rest of us had commenced clearing the table – completely finished with our dessert and everything.  I think he really enjoyed the time around the table with everyone.

They say that eating slowly is a very healthy habit.

As a mother of three, I am really good at eating fast – I can wolf my food down with the best of them.  Its really self-preservation.  You never know when you might have to clean up a spill, change a diaper or possibly even give what’s on your plate to someone else.  But – its not good for me.  I remember my mom telling me when I was little and requesting seconds, “You ate too fast!  Your stomach hasn’t had time to feel full yet…”

No, scarfing down nourishment is never a good plan.

Spiritually its not wise either.  Although – I do find myself choosing that quick “one verse snack”, rather than giving myself the luxury of digesting God’s Word over the course of some time.  I do know this: When I allow His Word and presence to slowly soak in, to saturate, and completely fill my heart, I don’t have to go searching for other “junk food” to fill me.

My sweet Mackenzie has reminded me:  There is nothing more important to my spiritual health and well being than time in His presence, reading His word – and being filled to the overflowing with nourishment that comes from Him.  It is the only way to truly live.

Psalm 1:1-3 says, this

“Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
2 but whose delight is in the law of the LORD,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
3 That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers.

May this Word dwell richly in my heart and mind, fully digested, so that I am able to live a prosperous and fruitful life for His kingdom.  amen.

a bit of history

Power Outage

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It was our first day home from a vacation.  I don’t know about you, but my house literally looks like a tornado hit the day we return.  No matter how much I clean and tidy up before leaving, it is a disaster area when we arrive home.  This time was no exception.

This particular instance happened just a few days after Christmas, so we were expected at Michael’s parents early in the day to celebrate with family.  Normally this would not be a problem for me, even if my home is beyond hope, I can usually pull it together and get everyone out the door.  And I really don’t mind procrastinating when it comes to cleaning up such mayhem.

But this time was different.   I was getting breakfast ready when the power went out.  This is where the struggle began.  My coffee had not finished brewing.  As the morning progressed, more problems became apparent.  I found myself rummaging through suitcases in dimly lit rooms for clean clothes.  The toiletries were in the bathroom – which does not have a window to let in daylight.   Never have toothbrushes and toothpaste been so elusive.   And I kept stubbing my toe on luggage in the hallway that hadn’t been put away yet.  At one point it crossed my mind that all of this may be for nothing if the power didn’t come on – I couldn’t go anywhere if the garage door wasn’t going to open…

On every front my efforts were thwarted.  I needed power!  Until this moment I had forgotten just how much I rely on the luxury of electricity.  I flip a switch and “voila” the lights come on.  I plug in my hairdryer and it blows hot air. At the push of a button the television becomes immediate entertainment for my children.

There are days that I re-enact this scenario spiritually.  I forget that I have ultimate power for living.   Why do I struggle in the dark, powerless when there is the promise for power and strength for my life?  I don’t know the answer to this question.  I guess it is a part of my sin nature.   The desire for independence is strong – but it takes me to dark hallways where I can’t see and I end up completely immobile.

Ephesians 1:18-19 “I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is like the working of his mighty strength,”

It is only through Christ that I find strength for each moment – Hope for a bright future comes with total dependence on Him.   With the Holy Spirit as my momentum I can live a life complete, without a power outage!

friends and loved ones

my scarf

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I have a scarf.  Gray, with a light blue and green plaid – its beautiful and so soft cashmere.   A Christmas gift from my mom last year, it matches my blue winter coat and my gray gloves.  Its been unusually cold this November so I’ve already worn it twice.  I’m so glad to have it to keep me warm.

I’m looking forward to wearing it when we visit my parents in January.

Not only does my scarf keep me warm physically, it brings me happiness.  When I put it on I’m reminded of special times with my family in Michigan last winter; walks with my mom, sledding with the kids, trips to the mall, you get the idea.

Often I go through seasons of winter, where the cold winds of loneliness blow harshly on my heart.  I struggle with being so far from my family and loved ones, longing to be with them.  But instead we are separated by many, many miles.   Holidays and birthdays, piano recitals and soccer games – we spend without them.  And I feel as though we are missing out on so much of each others’ lives.

When I first moved here, I came on an adventure.  I was taking a break from school. I wanted some new experiences, new friends.    My plan was to work a year or two and head back to graduate school.  I had no idea that I would end up marrying my wonderful husband and staying here – so far from my roots.

Now, as I live and move through life, I look for things to warm my heart and take the edge off of the cold. Truly I do know that I am in the center of God’s will for me and that is what fights the chills of sadness the best.  But, recently I had a conversation with a friend, who pointed me to a poem (thank you Amy!):

The Envoy

by G.K. Chesterton

“Clear was the night, the moon was young,
The larkspurs in the plots
Mingled their orange with the gold
Of the forget-me-nots.

The poppies seemed a silver mist,
So darkly fell the gloom.
You scarce had guessed yon crimson streaks
Were buttercups in bloom.

But one thing moved: a little child
Crashed through the flower and fern
And all my soul rose up to greet
The sage of whom I learn.

I looked into his awful eyes,
I waited his decree,
I made ingenious attempts
To sit upon his knee.

The babe upraised his wondering eyes,
And timidly he said,
‘A trend toward experiment
In modern minds is bred.

‘I feel the will to roam, to learn
By test, experience, nous,
That fire is hot and oceans deep,
And wolves carniverous.

‘My brain demands complexity.’
The lisping cherub cried.
I looked at him and only said,
‘Go on. The world is wide.’

A tear rolled down his pinafore,
‘Yet from my life must pass
The simple love of sun and moon,
The old games in the grass;

‘Now that my back is to my home
Could these again be found?’
I looked on him, and only said,
‘Go on. The world is round.’”

These words have been like a warm soft scarf for my soul.  And I have wrapped myself in it, reading the words again and again. It has warmed me right to the center of my being.  You see all those years ago, my parents let me go, free to pursue God’s will for my life, free to explore His world.  They knew, like I know now: Someday we will be together in our heavenly home.  And there we will have all of eternity to catch up.

who knows?

neon sign

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At some point over the past weekend I read a story about the tragedy that continues in Haiti. Seriously, I have a memory like a sieve- and so, I do not remember a lot of the details being conveyed.  But I do remember one thing.  There is one point that sticks out in my mind, like a bright colorful neon sign.  “Think about this more!  Think about this more!”  Its been flashing repetitively, again and again.  Pulsating in my brain.  Could it be the Holy Spirit?

The story was told of how a storm was coming across the ocean towards Haiti.  The aid and relief workers there were trying to convince the people of a tent city, thousands of people who had already suffered mass devastation not that long ago, to leave the few things they had and move to safety.  Many refused.  They had so little, this was all they had left.  Why should they want to move to safety?

They didn’t want to survive without their belongings.

I think about this account, sitting in my warm, comfortable home, on my nice couch, while typing on my high-tech laptop, with a full tummy from a yummy lunch and the list goes on and on.  I have everything I need multiplied by 100.  I can’t say I blame them.  I certainly have no room to judge them.

I find myself in need of a serious heart adjustment.  I am easily swallowed whole by an addiction to stuff.   And while I realize that the people of Haiti are living in the middle of devastation and I know nothing of the sort – it still proves this fact:  each of us is capable, no matter the situation, of finding their peace and satisfaction in tangible things. I am one of the worst offenders on this point.

Perhaps that is why the sign was flashing so brightly in my mind.  I need to refocus, especially at this time of year.  It seems ironic in a way;  I need to work on being thankful, but at the same time I’m making Christmas lists.  Its easy to make a super long tally of all the things I’d like to have or “need” – when really I should just be content and thankful.  I need to keep my mind on Christ and the things that are not seen, the things that can not be touched or held.  These things can’t be found on Amazon, or bought at the local mall.

So. Here is the real truth, applied to my heart.  Real life in Christ can only be lived to the fullest when my heart centers on the intangible gifts from God and His Word; when material things are an afterthought for me.   I know this is only done by HIS strength.  The same question keeps going through my mind:

If I lived in that tent city in Haiti right now, would my thoughts be like Paul’s in Philippians 4?

“11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”

And my answer is : I don’t know.  But, this is my prayer today.

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for the neon signs that You send my way, illuminating the darkest parts of my heart. Will you help Paul’s words to be mine, too?  Let me walk through this life, realizing your power that can help me need “stuff” less.  May I understand that true contentment only comes from knowing You more.    amen

a bit of history

then and now…

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I was 9.  The auditorium was full.  My seat was two thirds of the way back, sitting with my Aunt Flo – my parents were at the front.  As I sat on the red padded pews, my attention was secured on the speaker, Wendell Calder.  He was giving a sermon on missions and I was listening to every word.

My heart was pounding and my face was flush as he drew the message to a close.  The Holy Spirit, clearly was whispering in my ear.  “Are you willing?”  Even at 9, I remember Him speaking directly to me and my heart was changed.  That night I yielded.  I told Him I would do whatever He wanted me to do. And I fully expected that He would have me on the plane to Africa as soon as I was an adult, although I wasn’t exactly sure of when that would be.

That was then.

Fast forward 26 years.  I am not a missionary in Africa.  I would go if He sent me.  But, I’m a mom.  I’m a wife, a piano teacher, a sister, friend. etc… etc…  I’m settled into my role as a woman, but sometimes its complicated.  Sometimes its stressful.  Impossible.  Certainly not glamorous or extraordinary.

Yesterday morning I had the privilege to be a part of leading worship at a Missions Conference.  I was looking forward to the service and I knew that when the music was over I would hear a message that would move me.  And I was not let down.

He spoke about a gap.  The gap between my own condition, which is one of sin and inability, and my calling – which is whatever God has given me to do.  He very clearly described how to find a way to live in that gap:  As I come to know Him better, who He is and His power, I find the grace to become able.

This is now:

Regularly I realize my own lack of strength or character to do even the small tasks He gives me.  But, even this simple concept gripped my heart.  My calling, not full time missions in Africa but rather my home – my life as wife and mother, was His work to do through me.  I need to live in the middle of the gap and let my Heavenly Father fill it.

As He finished the message, once again I could hear the Holy Spirit tenderly speaking, requesting my surrender- not unlike my first missions conference so long ago.   Even yesterday I felt my heart beat a bit faster, I struggled to hold tears back : not because I wanted control or because I was frustrated or disappointed.  Instead, my eyes welled up because it was a peaceful takeover.  I was basking in His love. How mercifully He places me exactly where He wants me to be – inside this knowledge I find rest.  And there is strength to carry on in the calling He has given me.

Would I go to Africa?  Sure.  But, I’m here : weak in my own condition, empowered by the Spirit, in the middle of this gap.  And there’s no place I’d rather be.

2 Thessalonians 1: 11-12

With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may bring to fruition your every desire for goodness and your every deed prompted by faith. 12 We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.[a]


friends and loved ones

Miscommunication

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(originally written May, 2010)

I have enjoyed the last few weeks’ conversations with my son Isaac. He has a unique understanding of grammar right now. While he does not always manage to say what he means, our chats have become very intriguing.

He has an interesting way of using some kinds of words. Recently we were in a public restroom that had a rather unpleasant aroma. Isaac promptly said to me, “Mommy this baffwoom feels stinky!”

He has not been able to master his use of him vs. her. They are completely interchangeable, no matter who the subject is. Often he refers to my daughter Mackenzie in terms of him and he. “Mommy, him is crying!” And he cannot seem to grasp before and after. He uses after in place of before – “Mommy, will we eat breakfast after we play at the park?” But he really means to ask if we will go to the park after we eat breakfast. Usually I can figure out what he means, but it can be tricky.

At bedtime he likes to give me a list of reminders to tell him the following morning. “Mommy, be sure to tell me to play the bunnies on Super Mario Galaxy in the morning! And make sure you tell me to go to the potty and… and… and…” Sometimes he tells me a whole string of information and honestly I have no earthly idea what he is talking about.

There is one thing I can count on, no matter how much he insists on things that don’t make sense. Even if we are having one of those conversations that are a bit confusing, I know it will end one way: “Mommy, I wuv you!” His little voice is precious; it is music to my ears. Isaac is such a little lover, and I wouldn’t trade even one of these minutes with him for anything.

During these recent moments, I have come to wonder if my prayers sound similar in God’s ears. I know there are times that I pray for things that don’t make sense. Or I ask for things that probably don’t seem to be logical. Based on His ultimate knowledge, does God figure out what I really am hoping for, even if I’m not making the right request? My prayers are made without full understanding. How could I possibly pray any differently? I see dimly. But He sees all and knows all.

There is one thing that I am confident of – He asked for us to come to Him as children, in our innocence. My conversations with my son are so special, even though he isn’t communicating “properly.” And, I believe that it is necessary for us to have similar conversations with God. He wants us to bring our thoughts, our cares, our desires to Him – even if sometimes they don’t make sense. Even if we can’t figure out how to say it right.

It seems to me that really, He is looking for our affection. The same way that I look forward to the ending with Isaac, He longs for our love. If He knows the heart, maybe its not miscommunication, but rather innocence infused with honesty. I hope that someday my prayer time with Him will be more childlike, not so worried about conversing correctly, but instead in an open and free way like the conversations with my son.

Thank you Lord, for inviting me to come to you as I am. Its good to know that you want to hear my voice and that you love me in spite of any miscommunication.

Psalm 145:17-19

17 The LORD is righteous in all his ways
and faithful in all he does.
18 The LORD is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
19 He fulfills the desires of those who fear him;
he hears their cry and saves them.

friends and loved ones

medicine…

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I am a stay at home, home schooling mom of three.  That means I am at home a lot.  My human interaction is with people who range in age from 9 down to 1.  I don’t always get to be with adults and have grown up conversation.  Its just the nature of my current situation – I know it will change someday.

A week ago, two of my three were sick – and that made things significantly worse.  We are banned from all of our activities out of the house when the little people are sick. In those times I find myself sort of fading.  I think we made it out to visit the doctor’s office – twice – to get antibiotics for an ear infection and a sinus infection.  Not exactly the fun I was looking for.

I’ll admit it – I was lonely.  Its a bad place to be, really.  I am no fun as a pity party for one.  No fun at all. I found myself in need of medicine.  I didn’t find it until, well, let’s just say I wallowed in my loneliness for a while.

I’m reminded of Elijah and I’ve been drawn to his story…  sometimes I think he and I have a little bit in common. Remember the part of his story, how after a huge victory against the prophets of Baal, he ran a long, long way- was completely exhausted and hid?  Then – God came and found him in his hiding place – a windstorm, a fire, an earthquake all passed by.  But then scripture says God came to him in a gentle whisper.

I don’t really compare to Elijah. The miracles in my home revolve around a baby sleeping all night, a nine year old daughter learning her multiplication tables and a little boy who eats his dinner.  My life isn’t really like his at all except in this way:  I’m really good at telling the Lord I’m all alone, when I’m not.  And God, without exception, in His mercy comes to me.  He shows me that He is what I need.  In my loneliness, I find Him to be the best remedy for my soul.  And that alone is what brings healing for my heart.

In the end, I can’t help but realize that maybe this time my children’s illness was actually the Heavenly Father’s way of drawing me one step closer to Him, so that He can help me become who He needs me to be.  And as they are recovering from their colds and ear infections, my heart is in recovery too.  This is truly the best medicine.

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for the healing that you bring to our household, for my children – and for my heart as well. Don’t let me grow indifferent to You and Your desire to draw me close.  Its so wonderful to know that I’m never alone, no matter what.  amen.

In the midst of the dark and lonely times, this is the very medicine that I need:

Psalm 139: 1-12

1You have searched me, LORD,
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you, LORD, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.

7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

who knows?

masks…

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I took Mario and Luigi trick or treating this past weekend.  They were so cute, my Em and Isaac.  Super Mario Brothers is one of their favorite wii games these days, so the costume decision was not a difficult one this year.  We even did makeup mustaches.  It was perfect.

Halloween is not a huge event for us, but we enjoy getting a little candy.  Every year when this day rolls around, I end up dwelling on the faces that I see while we are trick or treating. Last night we saw Spiderman, Bride of Frankenstein, Buzz Lightyear and the list goes on and on… Their masks are so intriguing.  But often I wonder what is hiding behind them.

I guess I wonder because I have my own masks, you know.  Not halloween ones – but they are mine.  I put them on when I want to hide stuff -when I don’t want people to see my blemishes, my problems, my sin.  As much as I hate it, its true.  Its pretty scary how I put on a “religious” costume so that people won’t see the real me.  Just keepin’ it real, here.

So this year, on Sunday, which was actually Halloween – we also celebrated the reformation.  It was a service where we did the normal Reformation Sunday things like sing “A Mighty Fortress” by Martin Luther and we read Scripture about our true foundation being in Christ.  All good things, for sure.  But the sermon really renewed something for me.  and it is this:

I don’t need my masks.

In a very short, and super simplified manner I’m going to tell you what I re-learned.  The Reformation began the process of common people understanding that they have access to Christ.  He is our mediator, He purchased our salvation with his death and resurrection.  His forgiveness is what we need, no indulgences necessary.  And no matter what my blemishes and sins are – I don’t have to hide behind masks.  He has taken care of it all.

How ironic, that on the same day we were planning for Halloween trick or treating- a day of wearing costumes and masks, I was finding freedom anew : I can put my masks away!

Hebrews 4:13-16

“Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

Thank you Heavenly Father for the revived sense of forgiveness you have given to me today.  It is a beautiful gift.  Let me live, holding on firmly to my faith – setting aside those masks.  And thank you for your grace that will help me to keep from picking them up again.  amen.

friends and loved ones

mini me…

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I have a mini me at my house.  Her name is Emily. Its quite noticeable how much she is becoming a lot like me. It stands to reason, I guess,  since I’m one of the major influences in her life right now. She is turning 9 soon; she’s almost a young lady.

I noticed it Sunday morning in particular when we were getting ready for church.  I looked at her, with her dark brown hair in braids, her broad smile and her dark brown eyes –  I felt like I was watching a home video of myself…

Nowadays she is quite the little mother figure.  She helps me a lot around our home.  As she gets older I find myself saying things like, “Emily, watch Mackenzie while I’m in the kitchen making lunch…”  or “Em, will you go downstairs and help Isaac for a minute?”  She is a little replica of “Melody” sometimes…  and I hear her saying things, phrasing words just like I do – and making facial expressions that make me feel like I’m looking in the mirror.  Its almost scary.

So, I shouldn’t be surprised when she says things that make me cringe…. Often she’s making remarks that sound just the way I’d say them.    Harsh words, negative thoughts, impatience – all with my hand gestures, to boot.  Yes, there is nothing that opens my eyes to my own sin like my daughter’s imitation of me.

When I see all of this in action I am reminded how much I need to be a “mini me” of  Jesus.  I call myself a Christian. With that name, I should be an effective follower of Christ, right?  It shouldn’t be a problem that there are 3 sets of little eyes watching my every action, right?

Ephesians 5:1&2  says, “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children 2and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

Living a life of sacrificial love is wonderful to think about, but so much harder to accomplish in real life. If I could live more like Him, my daughter would have a better model to follow – maybe she’d be drawn to be more like Christ because of my example.

But, the truth is : being like Him can only be done because He loves me and by the grace that He gives me to follow Him. Only then do I find the courage to live out such sacrificial love. In the end its the only hope my little mini me has for  turning out less like her mom and more like Him.

Heavenly Father,

Will you give me the strength to walk out this life of sacrificial love on a daily basis?   Let me be the example that my sweet daughter needs.  Please, help my life to point her to that love and grace that comes only from You.  amen.