When You Don't Get It

I don't get it, my seventh-grade students used to complain when I taught the parts of speech. Perplexing for sure. I mean a gazillion grammar rules that overlap, overwhelm, and often contradict each other. And you have to know all of them, right?

Not really, I told them. You just need to know one rule.

Sounds weird, but it's true.

Here's the rule: Look at how you're using the word in the sentence. How the word is used determines its part of speech.

Verb. Adverb. Adjective, or whatever.

Ok, relax. My students had to take a test on this, but you don't. Although, I know that you would ace it!

Anyway, they struggled to "get" that little grammar lesson, and I sympathized with them. Sometimes, I find it difficult to "get" the lessons that God wants me to learn.

Have you been there? Like you just want to go after something that's important to you, and it's a good thing. But God says that you've got to be still. And silent. And you've got to surrender everything to Him. And you have to keep it that way.

I don't always "get" why God does that, you know. Do you?

But I'm trying to do what I instructed my students to do: Look at how I'm using the Word.

The Bible tells us that there's a right way and a wrong way to manage God's Word.

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth (2 Timothy 2:15).

The right way to handle the Word is to get into it every day. Sweet girl, His Word is so good. His Word gives life. And light. Strength. Comfort. Encouragement. He offers help and hope.

However, if we're not getting into the Word, then we can't get anything out of the Word. I mean that should be pretty simple; but it isn't.

Using the Word correctly involves choices. Using the Word correctly includes forgiving ourselves when we make bad choices, and our commitment and consistency aren't exactly stellar.

There's so much that God wants to give to us through His Word.

There's so much that He wants us to give to others.

When we don't "get" what God is doing, He wants us to look at how we're using the Word.

Because we hold the words that the whole world needs to hear.

And He so wants us all to "get" it.

To "get" that He sent His only Son. Precious Son. Beloved Son. To die for us.

To "get" His amazing love.

A Mama's Prayer

I tried to think of a little something to give you on this special day. Now, that would take a big, big budget. Which I don't have. But I did come up with this idea. It's a mama's prayer that I often offer for my family.

I'd like to share it with you:

Abba, thank You for the ones that You have given to me. Thank you for choosing me me to be their mama. There's no higher calling. They are the greatest blessing that I could ever receive.

Protect them by the power of Your name--the name of Your Son, Jesus.

Protect them from the evil one.

Sanctify them by the truth; Your word is truth.

May our family live as one just as You and the Son are One so that the world may know that You sent Jesus.

And so that the world may know that You love them even as You love the Son.

I pray in the name of Jesus. His precious name.

I based this prayer on Christ's prayer as recorded in John 17. These words calm me. They give me peace when I'm anxious and apprehensive about my family.

May they do the same for you.

Happy Mother's Day, sweet girl!

A Hurried Heart

"Hurry is a devious enemy." I read these words on a church sign as I drove by a while back. Told myself to remember them. Yeah, right.

By the time I got to my own church--a few miles away at the most--the only word of that five-word sentence that I could recall was the word hurry.

Should have known better than to rely on my short-term memory skills.

And I hear you laughing, sweet girl. Guess I deserve that one.

Are you wondering why I didn't just pull the car over to the side of the street and copy this meaningful little maxim on a scrap of paper while the sign was right in front of me?

Was there room on the street to pull over? Yes.

Was traffic a problem? No.

So, what happened? All right, I'll tell you why I didn't stop.

I was in a hurry.

Had a bad hair day. Clothes didn't look right. Had to change into a different outfit. Still not better. I was running way behind schedule.

Please tell me you've been there too. Hurrying to work or rushing around on a Sunday morning or sometime.

Just make me feel better, ok?

Well, later that week when I wasn't in such a big hurry, I went back and copied the quotation.

Now, I do admit to having a bit of a problem with that devious devil.

Like, I'm thinking I have a hurried heart at times when it comes to my relationship with God. Not a good thing, I know.

A girl with a hurried heart is hard of hearing. All she has time to listen to is the sound of her own voice. Not God's.

A girl with a hurried heart holds on to the wrong things. She seizes whatever looks good to her at the moment. She doesn't acknowledge that His desire is to hold her in the palm of His nail-scarred hands.

A girl with a hurried heart hesitates to ask for the impossible. She becomes increasingly self-reliant, but her strength isn't enough. She still can't do what only God can do.

I don't want to have that kind of heart anymore.

I want to hear Him. Want Him to hold me. I want to believe that He will do the impossible.

For it is with your heart that you believe...(Romans 10:10).

And I believe.

So I've asked Him to do a transplant. To take my hurried heart and give me a hungry heart. A heart that hungers for more of Him. His word. His will. A heart that believes that He can do anything.

No more hurry.

Just some time with our Savior. Slow. And sweet.

Crazy Story!

Ok, in my last post, I told you how much I missed my darlin' husband. But that he was coming home. He did. Sort of. So, how do you sort of come home? Yeah, I know. It's a crazy story.

Thursday morning he was almost home--about 80 more miles to go. He got a phone call from work. Heartbreaking news. Said he had to go back to Houston. Had to be there early the next day.

So, you know what I did, don't you? Oh, yeah!

I took off from work so that I could go with him. Not what we had planned, but definately better than not seeing him at all.

A short weekend, but really sweet.

A long drive back home Sunday for my daughter-in-law and me. But worth it.

And there's more. I've got dinner ready. Well, except for baking the rolls. I'm waiting for the oven to preheat.

And guess who's coming to dinner?

Sweet girl, you are so right!

My man and I are dining at home tonight!

And I may cook every night this week just because he's here.

That would add even more craziness to this little love story!

Not Good at Pretending

Loneliness and depression. Not typical topics for me. Not the usual, sweet story either. But it's where I am right now. And ignoring how I feel seems to be a little bit dishonest.

You know, like when someone asks how you're doing and you answer that you're fine, but you're really not. Because you don't want to admit that there's a problem.

I'm not that good at pretending that nothing is wrong when something is wrong.

Does that make sense?

Thanks, sweet girl, I knew that you would understand.

Uh, I know that you didn't actually ask me how I'm doing or why I'm sad. But I'll explain everything anyway. Just in case you're wondering.

I'm depressed because my darlin' husband is working in Houston, Texas, and I'm in Alabama.

We haven't seen each other since the first of March. He always travels, but he's never had to be away from home for almost two months.

And I'm not handling the separation very well either. I miss him so, so much.

Yes, I know that there are military wives whose husbands are gone for way longer than six weeks. More like six months to a year or longer. What a sacrifice! I couldn't do that.

I'm having all kinds of problems with my man's short-term absence. Have to make myself push the trash cart to the street. Or get the mail out of the box.

And other such simple, routine tasks.

Who could imagine how much emotional energy is required to perform them?

Do I sound like a selfish, spoiled brat?

Probably.

Well, sorry.

It's just that I feel lost and lonely when my sweetheart has to be gone for so long. He's my best friend. He makes everything fun and fulfilling.

He loves me. Protects me. Provides for me.

And the most amazing thing is that he understands the little girl in me. The one who grew up afraid of her daddy. Of not being good enough. The one who always loved words but was too insecure to put hers on paper. The one who desperately wanted to be loved and affirmed.

You can't help but miss a man like that.

And feel lonely and depressed when you're not with him.

I hope that I haven't caused you to feel depressed with my sad story. You've heard the old adage: Misery loves company or misery loves to make others miserable. Something like that.

Well, I have good news. When we do feel alone and depressed, we don't have to deny or ignore those emotions. We don't have to feel guilty that we're not deliriously happy at the moment.

Jesus experienced loneliness and depression too.

You have taken my companions and loved ones from me; the darkness is my closest friend (Psalm 88: 18).

The psalmist writes about his own battle with loneliness, but his words also refer to Christ and how all of Christ's disciples--His friends--abandoned Him when He needed them the most.

The image portrayed in this verse is so sad to me. That our Savior felt so alone that He counted the darkness as His close friend.

You know what? I've never been that alone before.

You know why? Because Jesus promised that He would never, ever leave me. Or you.

I'm glad Jesus made that promise.

I'm glad that He understands loneliness and depression.

I'm glad that when we're lonely or sad or depressed, we don't have to be good at pretending that everything is cool.

And I'm glad that my darlin' husband is coming home this weekend.

And did I mention that he's way handsome?

Oh, sweet girl. He is!

Hollywood, Swing the Bat!

Anxiously, the coach watches his batter. Full count. And a pitcher who can throw a strike when it matters most. Coach shouts, "Hollywood! Hollywood, swing the bat! If it's close, swing at it. You can do it."

Hollywood looks in his direction and nods nonchalantly.

She waits for the pitch.

Standing in the circle like she's posing for a photographer. Cleats dug down into the red dirt. Knees slightly bent. Her bat in position. Perfectly poised to get a hit. Wants it real bad.

But inside she feels the pressure to perform. Very scary.

Especially for a ten-year-old.

Especially one who got nicknamed Hollywood when she wore her mama's razzle dazzle sunglasses to practice one afternoon and adamantly refused to remove them.

Cause you know how bad the glare is when you're playing leftfield. Right?

Besides, I'm thinking that all girls need a little glamour every now and then.

So, Hollywood sure can look the part, but can she hit the ball? Well, uh, that depends. Are you talking about at practice or at a real game?

She's got plenty of potential.

But honestly, she struggles some at games.

Maybe tonight will be different...maybe she'll knock a homerun...or at least get a base hit...here comes the pitch...it's smokin'... Hollywood stands ready....

The umpire kicks one leg forward. Foot flexed. Right arm goes into an upper cut. All in one merciless, melodramatic motion.

"She's Oouuutt!" he shouts.

And my sweet, little Hollywood never swung the bat.

I really didn't care if she hit the ball or not, but I so wanted to see her take a swing.

But sweet girl, you and I understand, don't we? Swinging can be scary. And pressure to perform according to some self-imposed standard or one set by others can paralyze us.

And sometimes we think of God like He's an umpire. Calling strikes. Just waiting to strike us out. Willing us to go back to the dugout and stay there and feel like a loser.

How sad when we think like that.

That's just so not our loving God.

He's cares about us. Although we may not see our potential, God sees it. He doesn't demand a perfect performance.

Our participation and our obedience bring Him joy.

"...For the LORD delights in you...(from Isaiah 62:4).

Even when we strike out. He's ok with that.

But He does want us and Hollywood to swing the bat.

Batter up, sweet girl!

Easter's Choice

He lived. A sinless life. Son of Man. Son of God. He chose to give Himself, the only acceptable sacrifice. For me and for you. His death gave to us the way to God. No other way. No other choice.

His resurrection. Our hope. Not just ours, but hope for the whole world. Because He loves the whole world.

Atheists. Agnostics. Buddhists. Hindus. Muslims. Jews. All who are lost.

God loves.

Gave His precious Son. His One and Only.

He loves.

You and me.

He forgives.

You and me.

He gives power.

To you and to me.

He gives hope.

To you and to me. To the world.

Jesus Christ. Yeshua. Messiah. Anointed One. Promised One. Living Hope. Hope of the world.

Easter's choice.

He chose us, sweet girl. He chose us.

Are we choosing Him?

I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death (Philippians 3: 10).