Family

Rebel

Colossians 3:18-22

“Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.
Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them.
Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord.
Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.
Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything; and do it, not only when their eye is on you and to curry their favor, but with sincerity of heart and reverence for the Lord.”

Rebel Elizabeth—that is the name I had long planned to give my firstborn daughter. It had a special meaning to me, too. It meant “rebel consecrated to God.” What does that mean? Well, it means someone who doesn’t go along with the crowd or the status quo, someone who fights against injustice, who responds to hatred with love. In short, someone who lives like Jesus did when He took on flesh and dwelt among us. The name was to be a blessing spoken and prayed over this little girl.

The problem was that the name actually predated her dad, who had more delicate sensibilities regarding what the name might imply to some and how it might be misinterpreted. “But that’s not how I mean it,” I argued over and over. “My intentions and reasons are good and noble and righteous…godly even.” BUT in the end, I had to consider how the name might adversely impact some unknown percentage of people for whom “Rebel” carries a very loaded meaning. Striking it from consideration was one of the greatest acts of submission I’ve ever undertaken, and one that frankly had me kicking and screaming deep in my heart (and not really all that deep, as I was pretty vocal about it). That was in 2012, shortly before racial and ethnic tensions in our country really started to flare up. In the long run, the choice to submit was the right one…at least until something horrific happens in the town of Laredo to tarnish our daughter’s namesake.

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I think this story tells us a few things:

  1. God’s desires for us do not always match our own desires—no matter how well-intentioned ours may be. He knows things in His infinite wisdom that we couldn’t possibly foresee, and we need to trust His guidance. Sometimes that guidance comes in the form of an earthly authority figure that He has placed over us, one to whom we our called to submit.
  2. Our reasons and intentions matter far less than our decisions and actions, and their consequences. Our love for the least of these, our faith in God, and our intent to follow Jesus require ACTION on our part. And the truth is that sometimes we think (or convince ourselves) that we are acting in accordance with God’s will and direction and in the best interest of all concerned, but the outcome demonstrates that we were wrong. In those cases, God calls us to repent and to make right the wrongs we’ve caused, whether intentional or otherwise. That requires more humility than is comfortable for most of us. But it is what God requires nonetheless.
  3. God’s instructions are there for our protection and our good, and we can trust HIM. We are often hesitant to submit if we lack confidence in the authorities placed over us. But look at the list of relationships outlined in Colossians 3:18-22—wives and husbands; children and parents; slaves and masters. Surely earthly husbands, parents, and masters will fail us. But this passage does not permit us to forego submission when they let us down. Instead, we are to submit to God through our submission to others, placing our faith not in them but in HIM.

Submission is hard, but it is necessary. And even more, it is rewarding, if we allow it to be. Maybe you can think of an area in your own life wherein you’re being called to submit and surrender, perhaps one wherein you’ve been resistant to doing so. Pray over it. Ask God to help you. Ask other believers to help you. And then DO it.

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Run YOUR Race!

Hebrews 12:1-2

“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us,
let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us,
and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus,
the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross,
despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Wow! November is getting away from us SO quickly. I’m usually much better about posting regularly, especially during Adoption Awareness Month, which is one of my favorite times of the year. This November, I have a confession to make. I get kind of envious when I see mothers with new babies, or who are expecting, or who have adopted children, or who are fostering to adopt. With my youngest having just turned four years old last week, I feel like that phase of life is just slipping away.

And the further away from it we get as a family, and the closer we get to our arbitrary self-imposed adoptive-parent age limit of 40 years old (I will be 38 in February, can you believe it?!), the less likely it seems that we will end up pursuing adoption after all. Granted, we always say we’re open to burning bush moments and clear direction from God to the contrary, but for now, it seems unlikely.

Still, I STRONGLY support adoption. I think it is one of the most amazing and miraculous things you can do, and I believe that it offers such an indescribable blessing to everyone it touches. So I may ask God, Why not us? But as I read Hebrews 12:1-2, I hear God instructing me, “Run with endurance the race that is set before YOU…” While we ultimately all run a race designed to glorify God and advance his kingdom, we do not all run the exact same race, or the exact same route.

And, at this moment, the race set before me is not one that necessarily includes adoption (as sad as it is to admit). Instead, it includes being a wife and mother within a family of FOUR. It includes mentoring young women as they transition into the next stages of their lives. It includes praying for others at the prompting of the Holy Spirit. It includes befriending the elderly, who have too often been neglected in this fast-paced world of ours. It includes teaching college students not just about subject matter, but about responsibility and character. It includes writing research papers that draw attention to important social issues of our day. And so many more things.

Your race may look very little (if at all) like mine, or like anyone else’s for that matter. But whatever it does look like, I would encourage you to embrace it and pursue it with diligence, as unto the Lord. And if YOUR race involves the joy and blessing of adoption, know that while I will feel a twinge of envy, I will also cheer you on, champion your cause, and do whatever I can to help you to run that race, and to run it well. You have my prayers and my admiration.

Run YOUR race!

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Social Director

I wear a lot of hats throughout the day: Christ follower, wife, mother, professor, blogger, friend, and so many more. But this fall, I’ve been inducted into a new role—social director for one little girl who has, over the course of her nearly four years, grown accustomed to having a big brother around 24/7 for her entertainment. Well, big brother started all-day kindergarten this year, about two weeks before pre-school started for little sis. Even since her school started, she and I have had a lot of one-on-one time, both before and after school. On top of that, she had her tonsils out a couple of weeks ago, necessitating a week off from school. So, needless to say, we’ve spent a LOT of time together over the past couple of months.

And unlike her self-sufficient, independent older brother, Miss Laredo refuses to entertain herself. “What can we do?” is her common inquiry. She usually has some ideas, but they all require two of us (at least in her mind). So we have played a lot of games, read a lot of books, and painted a lot of pictures. While I cherish the quality time together, I confess that I have often felt guilty and stressed over the other duties that I’ve had to set aside, and anxious about when I might be able to catch up. And yet, I’m reminded (as I often am) of Psalm 39:5, which states, “Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!” James 4:14 further asks, “What is your life? It is just a vapor, appearing for a little while, and then vanishing.”

So these moments, when I sit with my little girl and make memories that will hopefully last a lifetime, I try to remember the truth about what matters most in this life, and the brevity of it all. And I try to choose her. After all, a day will likely come when she dreads the thought of hanging out with her mom. Still, though, I have to admit that I’m thankful for today—a Saturday—when Tijge is here to fill in as social director and give me a much needed break.

Here’s to you and to the memories YOU will make today with the loved ones who are longing to make those memories with you.

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Handprints

Grad Party 6

 

In May of 2013, we celebrated my long-awaited graduation from Clemson University. Our celebration necessarily involved a cake with orange and purple frosting. By the end of the evening, I noticed a sizeable purple streak of frosting that had been ground into the carpet. I didn’t think too much of it, knowing that our carpet was already in need of replacement (it has been since we moved in).

But about a year ago, I noticed the spot again. And this time, it distinctly resembled a tiny handprint. At that point, I realized that the spot was more than a mess—it was a memory. It’s a reminder of that party, and the accomplishment of finishing school, and a time when the kids were even smaller than they are now.

The realization triggered another memory; of when my sisters and I were younger. In those days, we would work on our homework at the kitchen table. But invariably, we would forget to put a protective barrier between our work and the table. As a result, years later, you could look closely at the table and make out the remnants of whatever we were working on—math problems, handwriting, whatever. Some would think of those as unsightly scars—but if I could have kept that table, I think I would have. Indeed, when we do eventually replace our carpet, I just might keep that little swatch—the one with a handprint that I will always cherish.

Littler Minutes

Last night, just before a had fallen asleep—and only seconds after Chris had drifted off—came the familiar sound of one Laredo Jade, whimpering from her bedroom, “Mommy…Mommy.” I went to her and asked her what she needed. “I just need you to hold me,” she answered as she wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder. Usually she demands that I hold her while I’m standing up, but last night, she agreed that we could lay on the couch together. After shifting around a bit, she got comfortable laying on my chest (and tummy and legs, because let’s face it, at her age she takes up quite a bit more space). Then she fell asleep, and then I fell asleep. But before I did, I thought back to a post I’d written in June of 2014, entitled, “Little Minutes.”

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Psalm 39:4-5

“LORD, make me to know my end and what is the extent of my days;
Let me know how transient I am. Behold, you have made my days as handbreadths,
And my lifetime as nothing in your sight; Surely every man at his best is a mere breath. Selah.”

As I was lying in the hotel bed with Tijge, he took my hand and held it as he drifted off to sleep. I was reminded of a habit that we had briefly gotten into a few weeks before. He would lay down and go to sleep, only to wake up at around midnight—at which point, he would sweetly ask, “You want to lay by me a little minutes?” Of course I do. Well, invariably, I would fall asleep and end up spending the rest of the night with him.

At one point, Chris expressed concern that this might get to be too much of a habit. Probably, I reasoned inwardly, but then I thought about the day that would no doubt come—sooner rather than later—when I would no longer be able to comfort him; when I wouldn’t be “cool” enough to be seen with, let alone to lay or snuggle with. And then I will miss these nights, and I won’t remember the midnight wake-up call, or his tossing and turning, or my stiff back and neck. I will only, and very fondly, remember those few extra minutes with him each night.

Little minutes, indeed.

——

Yep, that’s still about right. Different day. Different kid. Same stiff neck. Same little minutes…except they keep getting littler every day.

 

The Archer’s Aim

Psalm 127:3-5

 “Behold, children are a gift of the LORD, the fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one’s youth.
How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them…”

Children are indeed a gift, a blessing, a heritage from the Lord—like arrows in a quiver. But this analogy raises an important point: an arrow’s aim is only as true as the archer’s. Sometimes I’m not sure that I’m getting it right. I don’t always know what footwear is going to be appropriate. I occasionally forget to brush the kids’ teeth in the morning. I don’t always know which battles are worth fighting, and which I should let go. There are a lot of responsibilities and decisions to juggle as a parent—just to keep the kids fed, clothed, rested and safe.

More importantly, we as parents are responsible for aiming our children in the direction of truth, righteousness, and love. Their spiritual development rests largely in our hands. It isn’t something that we can pawn off on others—grandparents, Sunday school teachers, youth leaders, motivational speakers. And in order to point our children in toward the paths they ought to take, we must ourselves be moving in that same direction.

To be sure, none of us have—or will ever have—arrived at the destination of perfect holiness, godliness, or righteousness. The process of sanctification will end only on that day when we see the Father and are made whole in Him and in His presence. And until then, we will stumble and fall and fail. But our aim MUST be true. Our words and actions must reflect hearts tuned into God’s. Our kids need to see Jesus in us.

I pray that God would mold all of us into the kinds of parents, or archers, who will be able to aim our children toward a saving relationship with Jesus and a deep love for God and other people. In the meantime, I take comfort in this: There is a sinless archer, One who never misses His mark, and One who chose my kids (now and future) for me and me for them because He knows that we each need exactly what one another has to offer. And during this season of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for this truth.

The Love of the Father

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God’s heart is most certainly beyond our ability to comprehend this side of heaven. But I love how He offers glimpses into Himself through our experiences. You become a parent and all of a sudden begin to understand God’s love for His only begotten son. You see a beautiful sunset in Hawaii (as we hope to soon)—or out your back door at home in Waco—and you see a faint portrait of God’s creativity and artistry. You commit the unforgivable sin and begin to see the depths of God’s mercy. You battle with a strong-willed child who is just like you, and you start to get a picture of the patience that God shows you daily. A stranger shows you ridiculous kindness, and in so doing reflects the kindness of one who is infinitely greater. You make a sacrifice that seems impossible and you finally have just an inkling of the sacrifice made by our savior.

But in spite of my experiences, the glimpses He’s given me, there is (at least) one thing I still don’t quite understand. I don’t quite get God’s love for ME. I get sacrificial love, unconditional love even. I (sort of) get God’s love for Jesus, his OWN son. But fathom as I may, a just can’t fully grasp His love for me. After all, according to Scripture, I am a daughter of God only through His willingness to adopt me into His family.

Romans 8:15-17

For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.

Galatians 3:26

For you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus.

Galatians 4:7-9

Therefore you are no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God.

God, of course, chooses the gifts He gives to whom. But what a blessing and gift to be chosen as an adoptive parent—to be given the unique ability to see your precious child and yourself through God’s eyes. If that’s you, don’t take it for granted. Treasure every moment!

Changing the Narrative

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Well, y’all, it’s November again, probably my favorite blogging month of the year. That’s because it’s Adoption Awareness Month. And that means I’ll be writing a month’s worth of blog entries on my thoughts, feelings, and prayers regarding adoption. Whether or not adoption turns out to be in God’s plan for OUR family, my hope is that these words will encourage others who have gone through, are going through, or are considering going through the process of adoption.

When I tell people I have a desire to adopt one day, one of the most common questions I’m asked is, “Why?” The truth is, I sometimes have difficulty answering the “why” question. Of course, I want to provide a good home to a child who might not otherwise have one. And of course, I love the life we’ve made and want to share our memories and experiences with another child—I mean, we are blessed to be a blessing, right? But thanks to one of my students this semester, I recently realized another dimension of that desire.

You see, we have two kids—a boy and a girl. That’s exactly what we wanted, exact birth order and everything. And yet, the possibility of adoption continues to cross our minds. And apparently, that’s pretty uncommon. I know that our local adoption agency says that the majority of adoptive parents have struggled with infertility. But evidently, according to the “research,” this trend is more widespread than one agency, one locale. In fact, research studying families comprised of both biological and adopted children is quite rare, simply because there are so few of such families out there.

One unintended consequence of this is that a stigma now exists, whereby adoption is seen by many as a “second choice” or even a “last resort.” And that’s not me talking, that’s the research. Now, please don’t misunderstand me. This is not the view among all adoptive parents. Even among those for whom adoption was not a first choice, many would now likely assert that they wouldn’t have it any other way, that they wouldn’t trade their child or children for anyone or anything.

And yet, the stigma persists. So people ask, “Why would you adopt, when you have children of your own?” And they will continue to ask. Until people begin to see families in their neighborhoods, communities, and churches pursue adoption purely out of a desire to do so, they will continue to ask why. Until people stop viewing these families as the exception, they will continue to remain as such. To change the stigma, we need to change the narrative. I think that part of what drives my desire to adopt is my desire to be part of that change. Perhaps one day, we will be. In the meantime, may I encourage you to reject any stigma that paints a picture of adoption as an inferior pursuit, for it is anything but.

Selfies

Psalm 139:14

“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.”

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Selfies. I remember the first time I heard the term. I was watching a particularly humorous episode of Duck Dynasty. But I remember turning to my husband and asking, “What is a selfie? Is that really a thing?” I subsequently learned that it was a very prominent trend in our culture today. Is that a good or a bad thing?

Some people get down on others for taking too many selfies. In all honesty, some people DO take too many selfies. But I think that a blanket condemnation of this trend is premature, and perhaps a bit misguided.

As a mom of two toddlers, I think selfies (both with and without my kids) serve several valuable and legitimate purposes. They document our time together and our memories. If my kids’ memories of their childhood are as spotty as mine, they’ll need the reminders. These photos also document ME, as a mom. I’ve read more than one blog entry talking about how mothers are always getting stuck behind the camera, recording for posterity everyone but themselves. Then when everyone looks back years later, they ask, “Where was Mom in all of these photos?”

Selfies also demonstrate a level of confidence. Let’s face it. A lot of us moms are more than happy to take our place BEHIND the camera. The last person we want recorded for posterity is ourselves. We don’t want our weight, or our cellulite, our skin condition, or our horrific haircut memorialized for eternity on the internet. God forbid! But our kids see that…our daughters see that. They watch, they notice, they internalize those insecurities.

Am I saying that young girls should plaster scantily-clad and seductively-posed photos of themselves all over social media? No. Am I suggesting that these same girls open themselves up to potential victimization by sex traffickers and the like? Of course not. But I think selfies do have their place in our society. And while I’ve lately found myself taking a few more of them than I used to, I don’t think I should have to feel guilty about that. And I hope that—within reason—you don’t either.

Mothers’ Dreams and Wishes

With Mothers’ Day coming up on Sunday, I wanted to take a few moments to reflect on motherhood and what it looks like in action. And one aspect of that is that we, as mothers, have a lot of dreams for our kids. If you’re a mom, I’ll bet you can relate. But I think that we also let ourselves get caught up in some wishes that we hold onto for our kids as well. You may be asking by now, what’s the difference between dreams and wishes? Well, at least from my perspective, the two are vastly different.

If I were to list some wishes that I had for my kids, that list might include things like comfort, happiness, pleasure—fuzzy, feel-good kinds of things. On the other hand, if I were asked to list some dreams I have for my kids, I would say that I want them to display godly character. I would say that I went them to be used mightily by God and to accomplish amazing things for His kingdom. And through it all, I would want them to show humility and grace.

These are two different perspectives—one more temporal, and one more eternal. And where our focus is will, to a large degree, affect how we act out our role as mothers. I think of several mothers in the Bible who sought God’s best for their children because they placed their dreams for them ahead of their wishes for them. Think of Moses’ mother, who—in order to save his life—placed him in a basket in a river in hopes that someone would find and raise him and that he would accomplish God’s will for his life. Then there was Hannah, who—barren for SO long—promised God that if He gave her a child, she would offer him right back. And when God granted her request, she honored her promise, allowing Eli the priest to raise her son, Samuel, in the service of the Lord. And of course, there was Elizabeth—mother of John the Baptist—who conceived her child while barren and in her old age. He also was dedicated to the Lord and committed to serving Him as a messenger sent to proclaim the coming of the Messiah. And of course, let’s don’t forget Mary, the mother of Jesus, who accepted not only a difficult calling for herself, but also a difficult row to hoe for her child.

These women shared their faith and their faithfulness in common. But they also shared something else. Each of their children, in pursuit of their God-given callings, faced challenges, trials, tribulations, and suffering. Each of those children also remained faithful in spite of everything they endured. I wouldn’t describe their lives as full of comfort, happiness, and pleasure. But I would say that each developed godly character, that each was used mightily by God, that each accomplished amazing things for His kingdom, and that each showed humility and grace.

As mothers, I think it’s difficult to consider that our dreams for our children may take them into difficult places. And I’ve sometimes wondered whether these biblical mothers would have made different choices, had they known what lied ahead for their sons. But I always come to the conclusion that, no, they wouldn’t have. I believe that they placed their trust wholly and completely in a known and knowing God to do what was best, and to go with their children wherever He would lead them. I think their focus remained on the dreams that they had for their children, rather than on fleeting wishes. I pray that when you and I are faced with these choices, we will choose wisely, just as these women did.

Happy Mothers’ Day!

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