Transformation: Post 1, Motherhood

Romans 12:2  (NIV) 

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

TRANSFORM.  Instead of making resolutions in January, I always ask God for a word to define my year.  A few days into 2016, God gave me “transform”.  I laughed for two reasons:

 #1:  I was giant pregnant at the time (40 weeks and counting), so I certainly hoped I’d transform from that burgeoning state to a slimmer, baby-holding one.

 #2:  My brothers watched the original Transformers show when we were little, so the theme song played in my head.  “Transformers, robots in disguise.  Transformers, more than meets the eye.”

I thought a little more about those TV robots.  They were actually pretty bad-ass.  Looking at them in car form, you’d underestimate the big, strong machine they could become.  Transformers can battle anything in their path!  Yeah.  I started to like this word.  Maybe God had some power coming up in my life.

So, now it’s December 30^th.  2016 is almost over.  My transform year.  What happened?  What changed?  A lot, actually.  Looking through my journal, I narrowed it down to five big ones.  Five things that I didn’t see coming, didn’t know were possible, and am now ridiculously joyful about.  They are:  motherhood, Catholicism, consistency, no panic, and no sugar.  I’m going to share them one at a time in separate posts.  I thought I might get more reader interest if I abbreviated it into one, all-encompassing post, but writing this blog is for me too, and I’d like to process each individually.

There are two important elements that bind the five transformations together, like a book with its spine and cover.  First, absolutely NONE of this would be possible without the awesome power of God.  He is the Author of life, and His Spirit working inside me is the only road to change.  Through this year, I learned that I don’t just need God in order to get better at life, but that He is my life.  The transformations started as the focus, but each one is actually the result (or the Christianese “fruit”) of finding satisfaction and strength in God.  Second, transformation is better with a buddy.  As I reflect on the five areas, I see how God put a key person or cluster of people beside me to give hope and encouragement.  The TV Transformers weren’t alone in their battles, and neither was I.  It’s been a bad-ass year.

Transformation 1:  Motherhood

I think the transformation into motherhood seems obvious.  I went from not having a child to having a child.  There were lots of changes to my physical environment (read: toys and soiled clothing everywhere), daily schedule (or lack thereof), and emotions (lots of them).  While tough, these are not the parts of motherhood that merit the association with my word from God.  My true motherhood transformation happened in the middle of the night.

My son, Luke, was not a good sleeper.  Before having a baby, I imagined myself having these strong instincts to comfort my little one when I was needed.  In reality, what came forth under pressure was a whole mess of selfishness.  I didn’t want to get up again.  I didn’t want to rock him while he screamed.  I didn’t want to breast feed.  I just wanted to sleep and have my body left alone.

I’m married to a man who is a teammate like no other.  Jeff was up, taking shifts too, despite needing to go to work the next morning.  I appreciated him, but I also fought with him under the pressure.  My shifts often ended with me having a panic attack and Jeff taking over earlier than expected.  I couldn’t stay calm with the low sleep and Luke’s inexplicably intense cries.  Then, I felt guilty because Jeff had to make up for my weakness.   It was a very dark time.

 When Luke was five months old, he was still waking up crying about six times a night. Jeff and I got advice, read things, tried things, and finally just resigned ourselves to being up with a crying baby multiple times every night.   I didn’t like talking with other mothers about it anymore.  Jeff told me that he had stopped praying for Luke to sleep better.  He was praying that we would learn whatever God had for us through this situation.  You’d think I’d look lovingly at my hubs and appreciate his faith, but I totally lost it.  I got mad.  “I don’t want your prayer,” I told him, “I want sleep.”

In the end, I got sleep and I got the answer to Jeff’s prayer.  My friend, Laura, is a mother of five.  She told me that those middle of the night times were her battle hours.  That’s when she prayed and did spiritual warfare on behalf of her family.  When Laura told me that, I thought, ‘Well, you’re stronger than I am.  Good for you.’  But, that night, when I started praying for Luke to sleep well, God helped me take a step of surrender.  A step of transformation.  I prayed, “God, please give me grace to handle whatever happens tonight.”  It was another crappy night. 

During this time, my cousin texted and asked for my prayer request.  Back then, he was struggling with his relationship with God and decided to be more active in prayer.  I texted back about our sleep situation.  I said, “Why do I even pray when every night is a total crapshoot?”  He didn’t have any answers, but he prayed.  That night, Luke slept six hours straight.  A new record for Luke, a boost of faith for my cousin, and a taste of restoration for me and Jeff.

Another night, I was up with Luke and God reminded me of Laura’s battle stories.  I felt too tired and too out-of-faith to pray for Luke to calm down, but I decided I could sing.  Over the top of Luke’s cries, not caring if I woke Jeff up (sorry, Love!), I sang, “In heavenly armor we’ll enter the land; the battle belongs to the Lord!  No weapon that’s fashioned against us will stand; the battle belongs to the Lord!  And we sing, glory, honor, power and strength to the Lord!”  When that song was over, I sang another.  And another.  Luke cried and my faith and peace increased.  My situation didn’t change, but my heart did.  It was a battleground of transformation.  Eventually, he went back to sleep.  Energized, I didn’t go straight back to bed, but walked the hallway a little more and prayed for our family.  I got to sleep a little bit, and Luke still woke up later.  It was a kick in the behind.  I wanted the rest of the night to be easier because I had done the right thing, the holy thing, you know?  It didn’t work that way.  I was mad again.

I never found a formula.  This is not an A+B=C, tidy kind of story.  I didn’t become a nighttime Mary Poppins who sings the kids to sleep while she sews.  Luke does sleep through the night now and I even eat breakfast and get dressed before he gets up most days.  It’s amazing.  But, I still hate getting up in the middle of the night when there’s an issue.  I deal with fears of having another baby and being in that intense season again.   The difference is, my heart is open to what God wants to give in those places.  I’m willing to trust that He is good, even if everything stays the same as I see it.  I’m willing to praise Him when it’s not going my way.  That's a big deal!  It wouldn’t have happened without months of low-sleep nights.  I’m grateful for the transforming fire of motherhood.

It Wouldn’t Sound the Same Without You

One weekend, a year or so ago, I was visiting my parents and attended church with them on Sunday morning.  My mom is in the choir so I made faces at her when they stood to sing the offertory song.  Scanning the rest of the singers, one stuck out.  A little girl, maybe nine years old, was up there with all the adults.  I assume she was next to her mom.  This little girl with long, dark hair and a sparkly headband held a black binder of sheet music as she sang, just like everyone else.

My first thought was, “Does it even matter that she’s up there?  I’m guessing her voice isn’t strong enough to be missed if she wasn’t singing.”

God spoke up quickly, “I hear her.  I’d notice if her voice was gone.”  

I was flooded with the sense of God’s delight in this dear choir member.  He was thoroughly enjoying her one and only, made by Him, made for Him voice. 

This morning, I was at Bible study and they played a video of the Hallelujah Chorus for us to enjoy and sing.  I tiptoed out for a bathroom break.  It’s a pretty long song, so it was still going when I got back.  It’s one of those massive choir pieces that I don’t exactly know how to sing.  As I stood there, amidst women worshiping God, I remembered the little girl in my parents’ church choir.  Even with my awkward, not-sure-how-to-join-this-one attitude, I knew that God would hear me when I gave it a try.  I sang.  Choppy and quiet, but with a heart that wanted to join not just my Bible study ladies, but the chorus of saints praising God eternally.

“And He shall reign for ever and ever…..”

I know God heard my voice. 

“King of kings…forever!  And ever!”

I know the Holy Spirit in me communicated with the throne room of heaven.

“And Lord of lords…Hallelujah!  Hallelujah!”

Not because I need the attention from God, but because He deserves the attention – the worship – from me.  Loud or soft, on key or off key, getting the words right or stumbling.  What matters is that we join in with hearts of love for our Savior.  It wouldn’t sound the same to Him if one voice wasn’t there.  

Now That I'm There

 This year, we drove to Spokane for Thanksgiving to be with Jeff’s extended family.  Jeff got off work a little early on Wednesday, and we drove over that night.  About halfway there, we stopped at a gas station so Jeff could get in the back seat with Luke while I drove the rest of the way.  This may not seem interesting or significant, but it is.  A couple of years ago, before I was married or had a baby, I made a declaration in my mind: "I’m never going to have someone ride in the back with my baby.  My baby will learn to entertain himself and be content in the car."

One of my closest friends was a new mom at the time of this declaration.  She or her husband often needed to sit in the back to keep their daughter from crying on long car trips.  Even though I didn’t vocalize my judgment, I wish a thousand times that I could take it back.  I had no idea.  I couldn’t know, really, until I’d experienced the shrieks of my own child.  You think he’ll eventually settle down, but dang, babies have endurance with crying.  You break and suddenly, you’ll do anything to make it stop.  Anything!  Like, have one of you sit in the back and feed him applesauce.
 

Now that I’m there, now that I have a baby too, I daily want to revoke judgments I’ve made towards other parents.  I’m sure I judged parents for things that were actually a victory.  Like messy houses, for example.  Now that I’m there, I know that when my house is a total wreck, it means I chose to be present with Luke and play with him, rather than ignoring him to do dishes.

I say that I’m there, that I’m a parent, so I understand now.  But, I’m not you.  I’m not your child’s parent.  I have better perspective because I’m a parent too (ie: there’s a baby pee stain on my jeans today.  No joke.), but there’s still no basis for judgment.  I know if I understood you better, I’d regret judging you.

I have a joke with God when I find myself making mental comments about others.  I tell Him, “That’s my new best friend, isn’t it?”  He has a way of helping me get to know the people I judge.  One time, I was in an airport security line in Amsterdam.  A girl a few people ahead of me was dressed like she was going clubbing.  Skin tight pants, a strapless crop top, hoop earrings that grazed her shoulders, and three inch heels.  We were boarding a nine hour flight.  I was basically wearing pajamas.  As I judged her highly uncomfortable, impractical wardrobe choices, I stopped and chuckled.  “That’s my new best friend, right, God?”  Yep.  We were seat mates.  Nine hours later, I was blown away by this young woman’s strength and bravery.  She’d never been on a plane before that day; had never left her home in the Ukraine.  At eighteen years old, she was moving to Canada to go to college.  She was taking big steps of faith.  Who the heck cares what she was wearing as she went?  Now that I know her a little better, I’m in a place where the things I judged don’t matter.

This morning, my Bible study was about John 8.  I was supposed to list Jesus’ character traits in the story of a woman caught in adultery. 

John 8:1-11New Living Translation (NLT)

A Woman Caught in Adultery

8 Jesus returned to the Mount of Olives, ² but early the next morning he was back again at the Temple. A crowd soon gathered, and he sat down and taught them. ³ As he was speaking, the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery. They put her in front of the crowd.

⁴ “Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the act of adultery. ⁵ The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?”

⁶ They were trying to trap him into saying something they could use against him, but Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dust with his finger. ⁷ They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said,“All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”⁸ Then he stooped down again and wrote in the dust.

⁹ When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman. ¹⁰ Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman,“Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?”

¹¹ “No, Lord,” she said.

And Jesus said, “Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”

Calm.  Kind.  Wise.  Challenging.  Gracious.  That’s what I see in Jesus. 

The world is filled with people who are different from me.  Close friends and family, even.  I’m so tempted to make judgments – based on a perceived sin, or simply just a different way of thinking.  “If I was them, I would…”  or “I’d never…”  Really?  Is that really true?  I don’t know them deeply enough.  I don’t really understand why they think that way or why that decision is a victory for them when all I see is a messy house (so to speak). 

After the election, I caught up on the phone with the friend from the start of this story.  I knew we had different views about a lot of things, so the conversation initially felt risky.  What if we can’t stay friends because of our views?  What if we hurt each other because we don’t understand the same way?  We talked, we listened, and the conversation felt… calm.  Kind.  Wise.  Challenging.  Gracious.

Where are your accusers?  Where are the people who condemn you?

They’re sitting in the back seat with their baby, understanding you a little better.  

The Voice of Truth

“Tell yourself the truth, Brooke.” 

Moms say a lot of things.  They take lots of moments to infuse guidance into their growing kids.  I was with my friend on the bus when she told her two year old, “Oh Honey, we don’t lick the bus.”  At some point, we all had to learn not to lick the hand railings on the public bus.  These messages join the mix of voices inside, instructing long after we’ve flown the nest.  I’m sure my mom taught me to say thank you, to wash my hands, and stuff like that.    I know she told me how long to cook corn on the cob, but I still have to call and ask her every time.  I don’t distinctly remember her giving me these instructions.  What I remember is how she told me to tell myself the truth.

As a child, this phrase came up when I’d come home from school and say, “No one likes me.”  In my teen years, I’d say, “I’m too fat.”  My brother Brent would pick me up, sling me over his shoulder and say, “Not yet!” and my mom would say, “Tell yourself the truth.”  I’d punch Brent’s back until my face turned red upside down and laugh, “Okay!  Okay!  I’m not fat! ”

I’m glad this is the Mom-phrase that stuck.  In my journey with God, He’s used these words to remind me of His truth from the Bible.  Lately, I’ve been working on exercising consistently.  I often put on workout clothes intending to jog on our treadmill while my baby naps.  Then, the day goes by one thing at a time and it’s 9pm, I’m falling asleep on the couch watching The Voice, still wearing those workout clothes.  Last night, 9pm rolled around and I was in my usual spot, usual outfit.  I thought, “Bleh.  I guess today’s exercise plan is shot.”  Then, my mind got all rebellious (in a good way) and the Holy Spirit hit me with some truth:  “Get up; follow through.  God is working in me and I can do this.”  So, I did it.  Praise God!

I’m not sure how my mom came up with her phrase, whether it was intentional or just a natural response to a daughter who often cried about things that weren’t true.  Did she know how God would empower me throughout my life? 

Now I’m a mom.  My little boy is nine months old.  I have an opportunity to choose words of blessing or curse.  Curse seems like a strong word in this context, but our words are powerful.  Just think of a teasing nickname someone used for you once.  I bet it stuck and I bet it has impacted the way you think about yourself.

So, last week, my son was jumping in this bouncer seat that hangs from a doorway.  I had him hanging from the closet while I was putting laundry away.  He was bouncing with all his might, ricocheting off the doorframe and squealing with glee.  I laughed and said, “Luke!  You are crazy!!!”  Right away, there was that Holy Spirit check in my heart:  “What’s God’s truth about Luke right now?”  I asked God for His word for Luke and God said, “Joy.”

“Luke, you are so full of joy!”

It seems harmless to call my son crazy in this silly context.  Of course I don’t mean literally crazy, but it’s a curse of sorts.  God’s word “joy” is His blessing, His truth for Luke.  I’d rather Luke have that in his head as he grows up.

Because of all these truth revelations I’m having, I was feeling bold and asked God if anyone in my daily activities needed to know a piece of truth. Yesterday, Luke and I visited my great aunt at her assisted living apartment.  Auntie loves Luke and always tells him, “You are soooo precious!”   I was able to tell her, “God sees you just like you see Luke.  You are sooooo precious, Auntie!”  She said, “No, I’m not.  I’m just an old lady.”  So, we’ll have to keep going back to remind her.

This is different than giving compliments.  Speaking God’s truth, especially in cases where it does not feel true, shakes up the spiritual battle going on in the world.  Someone needs to hear that they are forgiven and God has removed their sin from them as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12).  Someone needs to hear that God is fighting for them (Exodus 14:14).  Someone needs to hear that God is a healer (Exodus 15:26).  It’s okay if it’s hard to believe now.  My mom must have encouraged me towards the truth a million and one times, which is why it stuck so well.  Like my Auntie, we may need more convincing.  But let’s let the voice in our head be the voice of truth.  Let’s let the words that come out of our mouths be something that will bless the hearer and help them know God’s love.

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Want more?  Here is a flashback to a poem I posted here four years ago about this same topic:

http://storiesfromasojourner.blogspot.com/search?q=Tell+Yourself+the+Truth

Out of the Way

This morning, Luke and I went to visit my prayer partner in Granger.  It’s about thirty miles away; a town you wouldn’t notice on the highway unless you knew one of the approximately 3,500 people who live there.  As I drove down the highway, with fields on both sides and a clear view of Mount Adams, I thought about how Granger is really out of the way.  That is, my friend is my only reason for heading that direction and going so far.

I used to drive to Granger five days a week.  When Jeff and I got engaged, I googled “schools near Yakima”, and ended up being hired at Granger’s only elementary school.  Even though there were schools with jobs in my neighborhood, I felt God’s peace about Granger.  It turned out to be one of the best jobs I’ve ever had.  When people asked where I worked, they would almost always comment, “Why do you work all the way down there?”  It’s out of the way.  Inconvenient.  More time and effort are required to get there, and it’s a population of kids who need extra care.  I didn’t know any Spanish and the majority of my class was Hispanic.  It took some work and creativity to teach well.

Going out of the way isn’t always a bad thing though.  When God takes me past what’s convenient for me, it forces me to focus on Him and others.  That’s always a good thing.

As I drove today, I thought about how, if I’d never worked in Granger, it would just be an exit sign on a highway I’d rarely use.  The people living there would be lumped into a category in my head like “lower valley people” or something generic like that.  Because God took me out of the way, the labels and ambiguity have been replaced with specific people and stories.  It’s not just an exit with a gas station, it’s Granger.  Not just Granger, but a school called Roosevelt Elementary.  Not just Roosevelt Elementary, but the kids who learn there – Juan, Florence, Yesica, Francisco, Estrella.  Kids with stories, families, ups and downs.  I only taught there for a year and a half, but Granger is a part of my story now.  I can never pass that exit or read about it in the newspaper without paying close attention. 

Sometimes, going out of the way is a distance thing, like my drive to work.  Sometimes, it’s a social going out of the way, like choosing to chat with my neighbor and listen as long as needed instead of making some excuse to go back inside.  I know a family who went out of their way to adopt a child, and it turned into taking three siblings home.  It sounds kind of inconvenient to me, especially since the couple already had three kids.  Those kids are no longer unknown, but are now daughters and son.  These situations, big and small, require trusting that God will take care of everything, no matter how stretching or scary it feels.

I don’t know what the next out of the way thing will be.  I’m actually trying to look for something small.  Maybe I can get off the cozy couch and go out of the way to rub my hubs’ feet tonight.  Maybe I can put somebody else’s grocery cart away for them.  The important thing is, God knows all of these people and places and He is carrying out His good plans everywhere.  I want to be a part of that.  Even if it means going out of my way.

Consider It Pure Joy; aka Your Problem is Your Gift

 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  James 1:2&3
 

Last night, before I turned off the lamp to go to sleep, I clicked my tongue and coaxed our calico kitty, Jordan, up on the bed.  I stroked her soft back until she started purring and curled up by my side.  This little cat has become more dear to me than I ever thought possible.  I’m now horrified to admit that there was a time when, considering Jordan, I thought, ‘This is a temporary problem.  Cats don’t live forever.’

I’m a tried and true dog lover, NOT a cat person.  Almost two years ago, when Jeff and I got married, I gained two cats.  The first night I spent at my new home, I realized cats know nothing of boundaries.  They were all over everything I owned and all up in my personal space.  I woke up in the middle of the night multiple times to Jordan trying to sleep next to me, and once with her sniffing my hair.  I was incensed.  On the phone with my mom the next day, I vented about it and consoled myself with the idea that the cats would eventually pass away.  Since then, Jordan’s counterpart, Payton, has died and I deeply feel the loss.

This is because these cats – my big problem – became my gift.  Today, Jordan slept on my lap as I typed and I stopped to just pet her and thank God for her.  As a new stay-at-home mother, she has become my faithful companion.  Jordan follows me around during the day, and is a part of the rhythm of this new life.  She makes me laugh by taking ownership of Luke’s stuff – his play mat with the hanging toys, especially.  Luke’s crying tends to stress me out.  It seems like God has a way of placing Jordan right next to me when he’s got a good scream going.  She purrs contentedly, inviting me to pet her, almost as if she’s modeling how to be calm in the storm.  The Brooke of two years ago could not have conceived of typing this lengthy homage to a cat.  The weird cat who sniffed my hair in the middle of the night, too!  But again, it’s because my problem is now my gift.

In James 1, we are told to consider our problems “pure joy”.  Most people can think of some issue in their life that God used for good.  Sometimes our problems create character in us, or sometimes – like with me and Jordan – we come to know the problem more deeply and can see it (her) in a new, more loving light. 

Here’s the thing:  in my experience, it’s always a reflective, looking back sort of revelation. 

What if I could see a problem as a gift before I know why or how it’s a good thing?  What if on that first night of experiencing living with cats, I had decided to have a joyful outlook on the situation, like the James verse?

I can’t go back to that cat fiasco night, but I definitely have some problems right now.  There’s one in particular that just doesn’t seem to have a positive way out.  So, I don’t understand how it will be a gift – whether God will teach me something, or have me meet someone who’s also struggling, or whatever – but I can go ahead and be joyful that this problem exists in my life.  I started thanking God that I’m struggling in this area.  I stopped trying to guess how He’s going to make it better.  It feels really, really strange to not put all my mental energy into fixing the problem (like waiting for the cats to die, or training them to not lay on my clean laundry, back in the day…).  It doesn’t really matter how.  I actually believe that at some point in the future, I will look back and be grateful that this problem was a part of my life.  The answer isn’t here yet, but the joy is. 

Now, I’m going to go curl up in my cozy bed and go to sleep.  Jordan’s already got a spot warm for me.

Wagon Ruts

Recently, I’ve been seeking greater freedom with my eating habits.  My whole life, I’ve had a sweet tooth.  My dad and I used to joke about how specific our cravings were.  I’d ask him for some chocolate and we’d get nitty gritty: “I want milk chocolate with caramel.  Do you have anything in that category?”  Being a fellow sweets lover, he could usually accommodate my craving from his candy stash.  As an adult, I’ve realized that there’s more to my eating habits than just enjoying junk food frequently.  Food serves as a stress reliever, a comfort tool when I’m anxious, which happens in some form every day.  Making changes in this area has proven challenging.  I relate it to an analogy I heard on a podcast about a wagon leaving the road ruts it’s been following.

Lord, I’ve been on this road for most of my life,

I know it so well, I don’t even have to think to stay on this track.

When I’m stressed, I eat something unhealthy,

When I’m tired or having a rough day, I skip my usual exercise.

When I feel like God is disappointed in me, I watch TV and avoid my Bible study.

When I’m in an argument, I cry and start to shut the person out.

These are some of my ruts.

Today I looked up, Lord, and actually paid attention to where my wagon was going.

The way I’m handling stress doesn’t bring lasting peace.

The way I’m thinking about You isn’t based on truth.

The way I communicate through difficulties isn’t as gracious or as loving as I’d like to be.

I don’t like where I’m going, but these ruts are so deep,

So familiar,

So …..me.

I tried to turn and redirect my course.

For the last month, I’ve eaten my meals at the table instead of in front of the TV.

It wasn’t a radical turn, but it certainly was different than the path I’d been on,

And it certainly took some oomph to make a new road.

With each day, this new path is feeling more routine,

I like where this is going and my next turn will be even better.

I’m not too afraid to leave the old path.

Sometimes, I look back at where I’ve been,

Who I used to be, who it was easier to be.

I resent that I was on that road.

Who wants to be someone who can’t eat just one cookie, but finishes all of them?

There’s shame on that path,

And fear that I may easily slip back to that course

If my new ruts are too shallow.

So, Lord?

Will You please help me?

Guide me where You want me to go?

Deepen the ruts that lead to freedom and peace,

And let flowers grow where I’ve already been.

I want to look ahead with joy,

And look back to find beauty covering my past.

I keep hoping that I’ll eventually get it all right,

Have no problems with food or relationships or my attitude.

That I’ll end up on a road that I can just stay on,

Without having to work or trust You in something uncomfortable.

But that’s not how this life works.

You’ve always got something new going on,

That requires me to let go of the old and embrace Your new.

So the next time I need to turn,

The next time I need to leave my comfy, deep ruts

And sink my wheels into new ground,

Lord, please deepen the ruts that lead to freedom and peace,

And let flowers grow where I’ve already been.

I want to look ahead with joy,

And look back to find beauty covering my past.

Love is a Choice

I attend Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) on Monday nights.  It’s an intensive Bible study that requires quite a bit of homework.  This year, we’ve been working through the book of Revelation, which tells about the end times – heaven, hell, and God’s judgment and renewal of earth.  Tonight’s discussion and lecture stirred strong feelings, which prompted this post. 

Imagine your friend told you she was dating a new guy. 

He’s handsome, has similar interests, likes dogs - the usual list of good stuff.

Then, what if she told you that he is forcing her to be in relationship with him? 

That she’s not sure if she loves him or not, but if she tries to get away, he’ll come after her and make her stay?

Sounds abusive to me.

That’s because forced love isn’t true love.

God doesn’t force us to love Him.

It’s a choice.

Day after day, He reveals who He is to me and all of humanity,

And lets us accept or reject His love.

I had been suffering with intense anxiety for years. Life got so bad that I gave up.  I wanted to die.

Some pastors prayed for me and got the word “allergy”, which led me to get tested and diagnosed with celiac disease.  Within one week of changing my diet, my symptoms lifted.

That was God's “I love you.”

I’d always wanted to teach teachers in Africa.  With how sick I was, I couldn’t have imagined getting on a plane.  My dad told me to write a letter to myself to open in six months, just to remind myself that things would change.  Africa wasn’t on my radar, but by the time six months was over, I was set to go to Uganda to teach.  I opened that letter on the plane.  God had healed my panic attacks to the point that I wasn’t afraid to go.

That was God's “I love you.”

I was in a very dysfunctional relationship and didn’t even want to get out of it.  It ended with me writing an impulsive text.  Later, I wrote in my journal, “God, please make me a wife and a mother somewhere quiet and beautiful.”

Now I live in Yakima among flowering orchards and beautiful mountains with my incredible husband and baby son.  I could never have imagined a life so good.

That’s God's “I love you.”

Years before I went to Uganda, I was praying and writing down what God was having me pray.  I thought He told me to pray for someone named Peace.  Even though I didn’t know it as a name from experience, I was sure it was a woman’s name and she needed prayer.  When I actually went to Uganda, I was drinking tea in a family’s hut only to learn that my hostess’s name was Peace.  I told her I had prayed for her before I knew her because God knew her and told me she needed it.

Recently, at the grocery store, I felt God ask me to pray for the cashier.  I asked her if she needed prayer and she told me in tears that her brother had just died. 

So many times, we think things are coincidences, when it’s God revealing His love to us.

He is saying, again and again,

“I’m here, I’m real, and I love you.”

I’m also learning that God’s love doesn’t mean I don’t hurt or see crap in the world.

Things are always happening to me and around me that I don’t like at all.

Lots of people work for the good and yet people still die and tragedies still happen.

I can’t believe the horrific things that happen every day.

Here’s my hope though:

I know that God is not going to let evil win in the end.

It all matters.

I am accountable for everything I do on earth.  

All of us are.

God allows faith in Jesus’ death to set us free from eternal suffering.

That’s His “I love you.”

Eternity isn’t wishy washy – it’s life with God’s love or death without.

And I decided I’m going to choose Him.

Today, Jesus, I choose your love.

I don’t need forcing, debating, or marketing.

I don’t need more time to decide.

I want life with You now,

I want love with You forever.

I choose You and Your love.

Ephesians 3:16-19 says “ I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, ¹⁷ so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, ¹⁸ may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, ¹⁹ and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”

This passage is my prayer for you today.

May you accept God,

Not out of fear or force,

But out of a deep revelation of His love for you.

Not Enough Can Be More Than Enough

Since becoming a mom, I’ve struggled with feeling like I’m not enough.  On any given day, baby Luke needs more than I have.  More milk than my body seems able to produce, more attention when I want to put him down and take a bite to eat, more patience when gas bubbles cause him pain.  I rarely feel like I’ve got all the bases adequately covered. 

A couple of weeks ago, our pastor shared the story of Jesus feeding 5,000.  As I listened, I found myself in the apostles’ shoes (sandals, maybe) and I went home with some hope.  Perhaps God could work a miracle in my places of not enough.

Mark 6:30-44 New International Version 

Jesus Feeds the Five Thousand

³⁰ The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. ³¹ Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them,“Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”³² So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place. ³³ But many who saw them leaving recognized them and ran on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. ³⁴ When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.³⁵ By this time it was late in the day, so his disciples came to him. “This is a remote place,” they said, “and it’s already very late. ³⁶ Send the people away so that they can go to the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.”³⁷ But he answered, “You give them something to eat.”They said to him, “That would take more than half a year’s wages^[a]! Are we to go and spend that much on bread and give it to them to eat?”³⁸ “How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.”When they found out, they said, “Five—and two fish.”³⁹ Then Jesus directed them to have all the people sit down in groups on the green grass. ⁴⁰ So they sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties.⁴¹ Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to his disciples to distribute to the people. He also divided the two fish among them all.⁴² They all ate and were satisfied, ⁴³ and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces of bread and fish. ⁴⁴ The number of the men who had eaten was five thousand.

The apostles had been working hard, hadn’t stopped to eat, and really needed some peace and rest.  They tried to get away and rest, but that didn’t work.  The crowds persisted.  Jesus had compassion and continued teaching the crowds.  So now, not only were the apostles still hungry, but five thousand others were too.  The apostles’ solution was to get rid of the problem; let the people go find their own food.  Jesus’ solution was for the apostles to feed the crowd.

This was an impossible situation.  Jesus asked the apostles what was available, food wise.  They gathered what was there, thanked God for it, and watched Jesus multiply the small amount.

Me:  “Jesus, I’m really tired.  I’ve been up with Luke for three hours and haven’t been able to eat breakfast yet.  I want to get away from all of these demands.  Just when I think I’ve got him settled, he cries or poops before I can do something for myself.  I want him to stop crying, to stop needing for a minute and you’re asking me to have compassion on him.  I don’t think I have even close to what it takes to make Luke content right now.  It would take an impossible amount of patience and self control on my part.  Can you just make his needs go away?”

Jesus:  “What do you have, Brooke?”

Me:  “I have some love, a little bit of peace, and one tiny, tiny scrap of patience.  That’s what I have.”

Jesus:  “Thank You, Father, for this love, peace, and patience Brooke has for Luke.”

Me:  “It’s not enough though.”

Jesus:  “I will make it more than enough.  Luke will be satisfied and you will have love, peace, and patience left over.  When you gave me what you had, I took it and made it Mine.  I can take care of all your needs, all Luke’s needs, and then some.  When you take care of him, give me all you have – no matter how small – thank God for it, and expect me to leave you with leftovers after everything and everyone is satisfied.  This is how I show my love.”

As I wrote this blog post over several days of nap times, Luke cried and needed me countless times.  It was kind of funny in an exasperating way.  I couldn't even finish writing about God supplying my needs without practicing it over and over.  I'd put the laptop down, go up to Luke's crib, pat his back, and repeat in my mind: "More than enough, more than enough, more than enough..."  I wiped Luke's spit up covered cheeks and imagined the huge crowd of people with full bellies.  I don't know how God is going to multiply my little amount of patience, but I'm committed to believing it's possible.  I know He's right there with me and Luke.  Jesus is compassionate and so willing to meet us in our need.  

Friend in the Pit

I was walking in the forest one day,

Just looking at the trees,

When I came upon a large pit,

An earthy yawn, too deep to cross.

Curious but cautious, I edged forward

And peered inside.

A gasp of amazement escaped my lips.

My friend was down there!

My dear friend!

“Hello!” I called down into the shadows,

Knocking some dust down too.

“What happened?  Why are you in this pit?”

My friend’s face and clothes were covered in dirt,

Her cheeks streaked with muddy tears.

She hugged her knees against her chest,

Her weary head rested on top.

My friend began to tell me what happened,

How she fell down.

As I listened, I got distracted.

There were some things here that might help!

“Hey!” I interrupted,

“Have you tried digging steps into the side?

Here’s a stick you can use as a shovel!”

And I threw the stick into the pit.

My friend barely missed getting hit.

She continued her story.

As I listened, I noticed something else:

Rocks!

“Hey!” I interrupted,

“What about these rocks? 

I know somebody who used a bunch of rocks to get out of the pit they were in!”

And I tossed her rocks of various sizes and weights.

My friend shielded herself with her arms

As rocks and debris rained down.

I told her to keep talking to me,

But inside, I wondered why she hadn’t started working on getting out.

I kept one ear open to my friend’s words

And wandered a little ways

In search of something else to get her out.

Surely, we could solve this whole pit scenario.

“Brooke.”

A voice in the trees said my name.

“Yeah?” I responded,

Stopping my search for a moment.

Jesus appeared, walking towards me.

“Oh,” I said quietly, “Hello, my Lord.”

I was in awe, not sure what to do or say next.

He smiled and said nothing,

Just held out His hand.

I had to drop my collection of pine cones and rocks

In order to take His hand.

“Come with Me,” Jesus said.

He led me back to the pit

Where my friend was still telling what had gone wrong.

She hadn’t noticed my absence with her face to the ground.

Jesus dropped my hand

And got on the ground next to the pit.

He carefully swung His legs over the side

And pushed off, jumping into the hollow ground.

“Brooke, come on!”

Jesus’ voice echoed from below.

I looked over and His arms were spread,

Ready to catch me.

What the heck?!

I thought this whole deal was about getting my friend out,

Not getting myself in!

But, I'm going to go with Jesus, so into the pit I went.

Jesus went over to where my friend was sitting

And telling her story to the ground.

He sat on one side of her

And motioned for me to sit on the other side.

Again, this made no sense.

Now we were both in the pit and both getting dirty.

How was this helpful?

Jesus put His arms around my friend.

He rested His head against hers,

And whispered in her ear,

“I’m here, dear one.  You are not alone.”

Now that I was down in the pit too,

I began to see things differently.

The rocks and sticks I’d thrown down

Seemed so foolish and hurtful from here.

I watched Jesus sit close

And listen to my friend,

My dear friend.

I watched Him cover her with His presence.

So I put my arm around her too,

And I leaned my face into the mix.

I heard her words,

And I felt her tears against my cheek.

I whispered in her ear,

“I’m here, dear one.  You are not alone.”

------------------------------------------------------

Recently, someone I love told me how awful life has been.  She poured out her heart and while she spoke, I kept getting distracted with ideas of how to make her situation better.  Why was she so upset when all she had to do was get herself out of that bad mindset?  I was a crappy listener, for sure.  Then, I ended the conversation with a barrage of positive affirmations and a big dose of my opinion.  There!  Everything was solved, right?  Nope.  The next day, my friend told me how I'd added to her pain with my careless words.  I had been unwilling to just sit with her in her painful place.  

When God sent His Son, Jesus Christ to earth, He came down into our pit.  Instead of staying in heaven and shouting down advice, Jesus made our places of shame, of sadness, of overwhelming circumstances His home.  He says He is with us and He is.  

Psalm 46:7 "The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress."

Genesis 28:15  "I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, I will bring you back to this land.  I will not leave you until I have done what I promised you."

Matthew 28:20  "And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."

Today, may you know Jesus' loving presence with you.  May we be willing to go with Jesus and be a loving presence wherever He shows us a dear one in need.