When Little Boys Walk on Water

As my kids have grown older, the Lord has given me more and more opportunities to talk to them about deeper things, about the precious lessons my Savior has been teaching me over the years. And, as I share with them, and look again at these lessons with the simple faith of children, God brings out new and wonderful truths.

Our oldest, CJ, is a sweet, sensitive little guy. Courage and confidence do not come naturally to him. But he is learning and he is growing, and as I have the immense privilege of walking with him on this journey, I’m learning so much about faith and courage as well.

Recently my husband and I were given a gift of several days away, a vacation, just the two of us.

CJ does NOT like it when we leave.

And we’d never before left him for that long.

So we prayed for him, long in advance. Prayed for courage and help for him. Prepared him for it, got him used to the idea. And, in a tender and teachable moment, I talked to him about it a little more, building on a story from Scripture we’d talked about recently.

The conversation went a little bit like this.

“CJ, do you remember when the disciples were in the boat in the storm, and Jesus came walking to them on the water?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember what Peter did?”

“He asked Jesus to let him walk to him.”

“Yep! And when Peter put his foot out of the boat, onto the water, with the wind blowing and the waves up and down and all over the place, what happened? Did he sink?”

“No.”

“That’s right. He kept looking at Jesus, and he stayed up. But when he started to look at everything around him that was so scary, the wind and the waves, what happened then?”

“He started to sink.”

“It’s the same with us, CJ. When everything around us is crazy and scary, as long as we keep thinking about Jesus, and keep our eyes on Him and how big and strong and loving He is, we will be fine. But if we keep thinking about the scary things, and focus on them, then we’ll sink.”

He nodded, quiet for a moment. I could tell his mind was working, sorting through these truths once again. After a bit he spoke up.

“But what if I forget?”

With that question, he brought me up short. What if he forgot? What if, in the terror of the storm, in the midst of the crashing waves and howling wind, in the distraction of the fear, he forgot to think about Jesus?

The answer to his simple question was right there, before us, in the story. And what a wonderful answer it was. I'd never noticed the precious detail before. The truth of it brought tears to my eyes, both for the sake of my sweet boy, and for myself, in my faltering, growing, stumbling, deepening walk with the Lord.

“Well, CJ, what happened to Peter? What happened after he started to sink?”

“Jesus caught him.”

“Yes! He rescued him! Even when Peter forgot, when he looked at the wrong thing, even when he started to sink, Jesus still caught him!”

What a glorious truth. We can KNOW the right way to handle a situation. We KNOW we should be patient, be faithful, be trusting, be loving, rejoice, lean on His strength and not ours…but sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we forget.

And still, despite our weakness and failure…

Jesus catches us.

Through the spray of the waves, over the roar of the storm, in the numbing cold, as we sink, a desperate cry torn from our throats, carried away in the wind…

We’ll see a hand. Firm and strong. Nail-scarred.

Reaching for us. Grasping us. Lifting us up. Rescuing us.

Peter found this true.  So did the psalmist.

“If I should say, ‘My foot has slipped,’ Your lovingkindness, O Lord, will hold me up.” (Psalm 94:18)

So did the prophet.

“Do not rejoice over me, my enemy; when I fall, I will arise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me.” (Micah 7:8)

What a wonderful God we serve.

Lists and Snakes and Choosing Worship

Do you like lists? I do.

I like to-do lists and grocery lists and packing lists. Christmas present lists and birth date lists. These kinds of lists keep me organized and help me remember things. I like being organized. I think that may be why I like lists so much.

Some lists are just for fun. They pull out the irony or comedy in a situation. Like a list I made a few weeks ago. Really, I reduced a brief incident that played out in our front yard to a simple list. It looked something like this:

A List of Horrifying Things

1.  Micah saw a black snake.
2.  He caught the snake.
3. He brought it home.
4. He taught Moses (who is four) how to properly hold a snake.
5. When they let the snake go into the MOWED grass (not overgrown grass!) it instantly disappeared.
6. Moses cried and was upset for quite some time about having to let the snake go.
7. To help him feel better, Micah informed him that there are lots and lots of snakes living all over our yard.

This list I wrote just to bring a little humor out of the situation. I really don’t mind snakes all that much. Actually, my husband dislikes snakes as much if not more than I do. The fact that he brought one home to show the boys despite how much he detests them really shows what a good daddy he is!

So there are helpful lists that keep us organized. There are funny lists that make us smile. But there are other lists…lists that aren’t so helpful, and not the least bit funny.  Lists about people and circumstances. Lists with unspoken titles (we’re too ashamed to put a name to them and admit what is consuming our thoughts!). Lists like…

All the ways this person has harmed me, or drives me nuts

All the things that are unfair about this situation

All the things I do that no one appreciates

The suffocatingly long list of expectations others (or I!) have placed upon myself that I’ll never be able to plow through

Rarely are these kinds of lists are neatly numbered and jotted down on lined paper. No, we keep these lists in our heads, so they are easy refer to or add to...and lest anyone see our list and get a glimpse of our ugly thoughts. And since the lists aren’t written down, we rehearse them frequently, lest we forget anything.

Lately, I’ve struggled a lot with the poor-me kinds of lists.  For example…

All the things that went wrong today

The four—no, wait, five!—times the kids woke me up last night

The countless interruptions

The whining and bickering and disobeying

The dish the kids broke

The meal planning that went haywire

The toe I stubbed

The smelly load of laundry I forgot about and left in the washer much too long.

…and the list just grows and grows. It’s easy to add to because I’m on the hunt for something, anything, to make the list longer and justify my self-pity.

These kinds of lists can be deadly to relationships and poisonous to our spirits. I’ve formed these lists more often than I’d care to admit. I love my life and I love my family…but sometimes I have a frustrating day, and that mental rehearsal starts up. It can be hard to break my thoughts away.

Perhaps…maybe…the way to fight these lists is with another kind of list.

A list like…all the things I admire and appreciate about that difficult person. Or all the things GOD has done for ME that I appreciate. Or all the things that went RIGHT today. For example…

Silky soft little girl hair

Chubby, pink-flushed baby cheeks

Bright eyes sparkling with anticipation

Huge grins with deep dimples

The giggles and laughter that fill our home

This crazy wonderful precious friendship called marriage

Another spectacular sunrise splashing color across the sky

The pink rose slowly unfolding in the vase on my counter

A dishwasher. A washer and dryer. Air conditioning. Indoor plumbing. Hot water on demand. Food on the table and bulging out of the refrigerator and pantry.

Health. Joy. Prayer. Salvation.

Jesus.

Maybe…just maybe…this list of gifts I’m thankful for will turn my heart toward my Maker, the Giver of these gifts. Then, instead of thinking of all the things that are ruining my day, I will find myself worshiping the One who packed my day full of such amazing blessings.

It can be hard work learning to discipline our thoughts. But it’s more than worth the struggle.

“We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.” (2 Cor. 10:5)

“Whatever things are true…meditate on these things.” (Phil. 4:8)

“For it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.” (Phil. 2:13)

“Oh satisfy us early with Your mercy, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.” (Ps. 90:14)

Sleepless Nights

My eyes open to the rhythmic thud-thud-thud-thud of little feet, accompanied by the swish-swish of a diapered bottom. I throw back the covers and roll out of bed to intercept our daughter at the doorway, before she can climb under our covers and get too comfortable. I pick her up, and she snuggles against me sleepily. I carry her back to her room, tuck her under her own flowered blanket, hum a song, and kiss her head. Then I stumble back down the hallway to my own bed.

Ten minutes later, I hear the thuds and swishes again. Another sleepy snuggle, another hummed song, another kiss on the head.

Half an hour and three trips later, I finally tuck her into bed for the last time of the night. Slowly I sink back into blessed sleep. But then I feel a soft tap-tap on my check.

I jump and my eyes fly open to see that a little boy has appeared silently at the side of my bed. “I’m scared,” he whispers.

Back out of bed and down the hallway. He’s getting too big to carry now, but I still tuck him under his red quilt, pray with him to remind him that Jesus is with him, and hum another song while I rub his leg.

Back down the hallway to bed.

Five minutes later…

Thwack. Thwack-thwack. Thwack. The baby boy in the pack ‘n’ play beside my bed is kicking his tiny heels down into his mattress. His breathing, once silent, becomes noisy and irregular. I roll out of bed again, pop his binky into his mouth, and drop back into my bed, praying and hoping he’ll fall back asleep.

Silence…but only briefly. Then the breathing once again becomes noisy, and the sound gradually intensifies into a cry. Out of bed. To the couch. Twenty minutes later he is sound asleep, tummy filled and diaper changed.

I crawl under my covers, fighting back tears of pure exhaustion, debating whether or not to turn off my alarm. Those few precious minutes alone with Jesus before the kiddos awake are what carry me through the day. But yesterday I dozed off in my chair with every sentence I read.

I leave the alarm on, and hope I don’t hit snooze too many times. Then, almost instantly, sleep.

Can anyone relate? Perhaps, though, it’s not little people keeping you awake at night. Maybe it’s sickness, or pain, or an unfriendly work schedule, or just plain insomnia. Or maybe, you are getting plenty of sleep, but illness still saps your body of strength, and you drag through each day, exhausted.

I love Psalm 103:13-14 “Just as a Father has compassion on His children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him. For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust.”

He is mindful that we are but dust. He knows we are weak and frail and needy. What comfort!

But far too often, I myself forget that same truth. I expect to be superwoman, with a long list of tasks I expect to accomplish. But reality interrupts and I become frustrated. I have taken more upon myself than my compassionate God desires from me, and I have attempted to accomplish them in my own strength.

So God reminds me of my weakness. In reality, He’s been doing that every day of my life. The fact that we need sleep reminds us that we as humans are frail creatures. I love how John Piper puts it:

Sleep is a daily reminder from God that we are not God. Once a day God sends us to bed like patients with a sickness. The sickness is a chronic tendency to think we are in control and that our work is indispensable. To cure us of this disease God turns us into helpless sacks of sand once a day.

Isn’t God so good to build in that daily reminder? On top of that, certain seasons—sickness, raising little ones, etc—intensify that sense of need.

I NEED GOD.

I need Him to grant me the strength to face each day and each task.

I need His wisdom and direction to choose how to spend the strength He grants.

I need His grace to gratefully accept the sleeplessness and weariness and weakness as His gift to me, a blessed reminder of how essential it is for me to abide in Him.

I need Him. When I recognize it, when I ask Him, (and often even when I’m oblivious to my need!) He sustains. He enables. He stoops to help. And He keeps on reminding.

Isn’t He good?

“My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him.”

Psalm 62:5

“For You have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy. My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me.”

Psalm 63:7-8

ABC's and 123's: Slow Learning

ABC’s and 123’s

Slow Learning

CJ’s grin nearly touched his ears. His face glowed. Every so often he actually giggled out loud. 

He was fairly bursting with the thrill of discovery and accomplishment. He was working on his very first color-by-number picture.

Three months ago, you could have pointed to a number “3” and asked CJ what it was, and his answer would have been something like this:

“Six? Two? ‘Firteen (thirteen)? Twenty-six?”

Eventually he might have happened upon the right guess…but he really had no clue…

..until this fall, when we started spending an hour or so, three or four days a week, sitting down and working on his letters and sounds and numbers.

Mostly what we do is practice; I spend very little time actually teaching him new things. I write out the letters and numbers he’s learned so far, and he traces over them with a marker. Progress is slow. Each week we add a new number and a new letter. A couple of months into it, he finally gained the confidence to write a little on his own instead of just tracing. But still he mostly just traces. Sometimes we have to backtrack and do some extra practicing, like when CJ started adding extra loops to his 8’s. But bit by bit he’s catching on. Finally he had progressed enough that I realized I could break out the color-by-number pictures.

And it was absolutely thrilling. For child and mommy, for pupil and teacher. He asked me to take a picture of it and send the picture to “Jack and Lilly and G and B and Mema and Papa and Aunt Boo…” Finally he asked me to just send it to “everyone in the whole universe!”

It seems like life’s most foundational and most important lessons are learned slowly. Lots of practice. Lots of repetition. Daily trying again.

Parenting is like that. Lots and lots of repetition.

“Flush and close the lid.”

“If you take it from him you won’t get a turn.”

“Go to your room until you can come out with a happy face.”

“When your’e done with it, don’t put it down. Put it away.”

Over. And over. And over. And over. Progress is slow, incremental. But there are plenty of opportunities to practice.

And it’s like that in my Christian walk, too. Again and again and again, His Spirit whispers, 

“Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.”

“Love as I have loved you.”

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything pray.”

“Be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.”

“Do not be wise in your own opinion.”

Progress is slow. I have to backtrack a lot. I fail. But the next day, the next hour, the next moment, God gives me another chance to practice. Over and over and over. Then from time to time He decides it’s time to move on to something a little harder, or to let me experience the joy of discovery. Through His Spirit He teaches my spirit some new, thrilling truth about the Christian walk, or an old truth I never really completely “got.” And it’s like filling in a color-by-number picture for the first time—exhilarating!

And I know for a fact that my Teacher, my Father, is SO much more patient with my slow progress than I am with my own children’s.

“Just as a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him. For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust.”

Psalm 103:13-14

Isn’t He good?