How To Shine: From A DIY Failure

Reader, I'm very worried that you might misunderstand what I'm about to say.  And that's a real problem, because if you do, it would've been better for me not to write this at all.  It's taken me a month to figure out whether I should even relate this incident to you.  God won't allow me to let it go, though....so here we go....

Before I tell you what happened, I need you to understand something about me.  I have a very. short. fuse.  My patience in anything and with anyone is incredibly limited.  My outbursts of frustration have ranged anywhere from sobbing over calculus homework to unbelievably harsh words hurled at a loved one.  A LOVED one.

So you can imagine what it's like to get out the door to school at 8:15 a.m. With 3 boys aged 5 and younger.  Right- it ain't pretty.

And I've spent more time apologizing to my kids as we walk into school than ever before.  Because I'm sinful.  Because I lack self control.  Because I desperately need to be transformed by Jesus Christ, who died to redeem even our weekday mornings.

On one such morning, we huffed across the parking lot and I stewed about the attitudes, disobedience, and whinyness I'd encountered as I struggled to get everyone fed, dressed and out the door.  As usual, halfway across the parking lot, I realized that I'd wasted yet another morning -- an opportunity to speak truth to my children without insulting them....to discipline them without emotionally bruising them....to point them to the God who made the sun rise that day.

My heart sank.

I choked back tears and made feeble attempts to apologize to Andy and Levi as we raced against the clock to get to his class.  A quick weak hug.  A rub of the head.  "Have a good day...." And the job was done.  Poorly done.

I trudged back toward the parking lot with a heavy heart, trying to hold a squirming one-year old and hold the hand of a running 3 year-old.  Feeling like a total mess.  I pulled myself out of  my pitiful daze just long enough to realize that Levi was talking to me.

"....his brother pushed him out of the way in the parking lot.  And that wasn't very nice...". And although I was completely disinterested in whatever it was that he was relating, I attempted to answer Levi with, "well maybe he was trying to protect his brother.". I heard a little chuckle behind me.

I turned to see a woman smiling at me.  I smiled back.  And she said this:

"You have the most beautiful family!  My husband and I see you all the time and always talk about you.  You just seem so well cared for....so content.  We were just saying today, 'Oh there they are again!  I bet she has such a happy home...a great marriage..'. And my husband said to me, 'that's the way I want YOU to look!', because you know, it's our second time around together and...."

I was in complete shock.  And to my own surprise, I found myself walking through the open door.  I told her what a mess we were.  And I told her  what a relationship with Jesus does in a person, and how He changes him, her, a marriage and a home.  I told her that she hit on just the right word: "content", because no matter what, Jesus brings a joy that is immovable by circumstance or anything else.  I shook as I said it. And she just said, "that's awesome."

How could this person, having witnessed me in the aftermath of my very worst morning after morning, have possibly used the word "content" to describe me?  I have only one thought -

"It came about when Moses was coming down from Mount Sinai..that he (Moses) did not know that the skin on his face shone because of his speaking with Him (Almighty God)" - Exodus 34:29

Somehow, all of the mistakes I make every morning can't cover up the light of Christ that shines through me only because He died, rose, drew me, and saved me.  And here I am always looking for someone to minister to, to talk with, to help, so that I might have the opportunity to share the love of Christ.  But it's not my effort that makes the light. As Moses found out,  just being with Him noticably changes us.

As it turns out, "this little light of mine" is actually a consuming fire that can't be doused -- by guilt, by sin, by anger, by fear, by anything.  Reader- meet with your Lord today and know that if you have accepted Jesus' death on the cross as the penalty paid to cover your sin, He sends you out today to shine.  So that the world will know His love for them.  So that the lost will find hope in Him.  So that the weary will find rest in Him. So that the captive will find freedom in Him. And the best part is that you don't have to figure out how to do that....

You just will.

The Different(s)

(Obviously, the following names are fake, but the people are real.)

Amy sits across from me on the bus.  We're taking a field trip to the pumpkin patch and she tells me a joke with a cuss word in it.  She says her dad told it to her.

Owen's mom tells me in line that she and her husband are getting a divorce, and it's been really hard because they work together.  Owen's not taking it very well.

Maliah's dad comes to open house night with 2 other kids smaller than her and desperately tries to calm the baby while Mrs. Charlotte explains the new core standards.  I see him frantically attempting to braid her wild hair at 8:40 in the morning.  He wears his army fatigues and his big fingers can't really get a hold of that baby-fine hair on his precious daughter's head.  Maliah is a firecracker, and spends a lot of time having to sit at her desk with her head down.

What a world full of hurt we live in.

What a world of opportunity for our family to demonstrate Christ's love sits just up the street.

We babysat for a mom and dad of one of Andy's classmates last month that HATE asking people for favors.  I think they were blessed by how happy we were to do it.

Amy (same one from above) told me that Andy is her best friend.  When I told Andy what she said, he told me about how some big kids had been making fun of her, and he had told her to pray.  He told her that Jesus was always with her, and that He would change the big kids' hearts.

Maliah was mistakenly not packed a dessert last week, and it absolutely destroyed her.  Andy gave her some of his, and she became his new best friend.

I am amazed by how easy God has made it to minister to people we hardly know.  In an institution like public school, people who might never intentionally cross paths are forced to do so.  So we get to be intentional about our interaction with them.  None of these things are earth-shattering demonstrations of the massivity of God's love for the world; but each act is done with the intent of loving others so that they will know Jesus:

"A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." - John 13:35

Our hope is that these small acts of loving them will be tools in God's hands to draw them to the One Great Love.

Now, the question is: From an outside perspective, how are our acts different from any atheist's kind acts done purely to help someone out?

Well.....we also didn't celebrate Halloween today.

Now- WAIT WAIT WAIT!  Don't X out of this blog never to return!  Just hear me out....

We don't think that everyone who celebrates Halloween is a Satan worshipper.  We see Halloween as Daniel saw the great feasts in Babylon....as opportunity to be holy.  

"Holy"....meaning set apart.

"Holy"...meaning different.

When Daniel was faced with a choice of who to pray to, it was an easy one.  Although "everyone else" was pretty swayed by the culture of Babylon, Daniel had separated himself from it a long time before.  While all the other young men feasted on rich food from the king's finest chefs, Daniel ate veggies.  He didn't do it for attention; in fact, he did it in secret.  There was nothing wrong with eating all this wonderful food; it's just that Daniel knew he was there for something more.  He didn't want his focus on his God stolen by the comforts of the culture.  He had found a unique way to honor the Lord.  And when decision time came, he was ready.

In the same way, not celebrating Halloween is a way our family has chosen to honor the God who sent His Son to die for us.  Now, I know this is not a popular decision.  After all, Andy's class had a full day party complete with poetry and song performances as well as lunch and a parade in honor of the holiday!  Andy's spent weeks memorizing lines and places and hand motions for something he wasn't going to attend.  And yes- I believe that he was the only one.

Could we have made an exception just for this year?  Of course!  Would God have been mad at us?  No way!

But what if Daniel had eaten roast beef instead of carrots?  Might he have been lulled just enough by the culture that surrounded him that he might think, "ah....no big deal...I'll bow down to this nit wit and then go home and pray in my closet"?  Might he, without the tangible reminder that he was to be holy, have made a decision that would've closed the door to the opportunity for God to demonstrate His awesome power in the lion's den?

We think that today,when it was obvious who wasn't there for the big party, our small acts of kindness may have the opportunity to do something  more.  When I've got to answer for why we weren't at the biggest event of the year,  I've got an open door to share what we believe and why we act as we do.  

And Andy- he was reminded today that although we Christians have total freedom to participate in Halloween, we chose not to, as a special way to be holy - different - for our God who loves us.

And THAT, I think, will make all the difference.

Grace vs. Play Dough Molds

The Mission

Parent: "So, how was your day?"

Kid: "Good."

Now, what's the next question?  In America, studies show that most of the time, it's "Did you have fun?".  In Japan, it's "What did you learn?". And this invites a host of commentary on cultures and their values.  Interesting.

What's MY question?  I'll be honest: "Who did you play with?". Because this mother is 30 years old and still measures her worth and general success in life by who she knows and what they think of her.

The answer: "no one."

Everyday.

And it hits me like a ton of bricks.  Everyday.

But Andy, he doesn't say this with tears, anger, or even disappointment.  Because as it turns out, I've been given a son who couldn't care less about who he knows and what they think of him.  During recess, he's Ironman, on a mission to get the bad guys.  If other kids want to join him in his valiant efforts, great.  If not, it's his duty to protect them himself.

And I worry because I think he'll become isolated.  I think he'll get ridiculed.  I think he'll be sad.  And my fear stems from the fact that my measure of worth is completely wrapped up in my relationships.  

I fear he'll think he's worthless.

"Oh!" he says, "I talked to two kids about Jesus today."

"You did?!  That's great!  What did you say?"

He goes on to tell me about how he remembered being told that his mission at school was to shine the light of Jesus.  So he simply asked a couple of kids if they believed in God.  Both said yes, but later in the conversation, flip-flopped and replaced the truth with made-up stories about how the universe came about.  One said Jesus is make-believe.

I told Andy that he did a great job, and definitely accomplished his mission that day.  I suggested that when God opens up another opportunity, he follow up with the kids and ask who they think Jesus is.

Because ultimately, if the great question of worth is, "who do you know?",  "Jesus" is the only answer that means anything at all.

So here is my boy- reminding me that we believers are ALWAYS on a mission.  The same mission that Paul was on:

"For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.  I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling, and my message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God." - 2 Corinthians 2:2-5

Paul did not determine to know the popular people and be known by them.  He didn't determine to be everyone's friend.  He didn't determine to gather all the knowledge he possibly could.  He didn't determine to seek out every possibility of fun that might exist.

He determined to know Christ.  And by knowing Christ alone, he became a vessel through which the Spirit's power worked mightily...so that MY faith now rests on the power of God.

This boy is on a mission, is he not? 

Will he be lonely?  Sad?  Ridiculed?  Maybe.  As Paul was fearful and trembled, my Andy may as well.  But if he remembers WHO he knows and what HE thinks of him, he will become the unstoppable force for good that he marches around pretending to be.

Because the Unstoppable Good lives in him that believes.  And loves him.  And sings over him.

And died for him.

I'm going to stop asking Andy why he doesn't play with anyone at recess.  Instead, when he gets home today, I'll ask him how the Mission went.

How will he stand?

He sits underneath the slide, tears streaming down his face.

And I walk away....

Because he told me to.

Except for that first morning that is always wrapped in merciful ignorance, this is how every school day has begun so far.  And I wonder, as I walk away, how will he climb out from under there when that bell rings, and it's time to stand?

He comes home and tells me that he always makes sure to pray before he eats lunch, "even though no one else does.". I tell him that's awesome, and to get used to it, because those of us who give thanks to our Creator for the gifts He gives  are in the minority in this world.  I say I know it can be kind of weird to be the only one praying. And he says:

"It's not weird to me, because: (his reasons are always twofold) One: I'm used to praying.  And two: I love Jesus.  So im going to pray even if they don't.  I also pray for the other kids while I do it."

Oh, there are no words.  I could leap for joy.  And yet, I don't.  Because I wonder....

What will happen when someone points out his culturally odd habit...and laughs?

What will happen when he's finally been accepted into the cool kids' group, and he's got to interrupt a conversation...to pray?

What will happen when the atheist high school kids compare God to the flying spaghetti monster?

What will happen when his science teacher tells him point blank that his beliefs don't line up with "reality"?

I'm mulling all of this over at the kitchen sink, where a notecard sits.  My grandfather...Papa....has spent years filling notecards with reminders from God that he wants to burn on his mind and heart.  When he filled an entire photo box with cards, he gave it to my dad.  My dad let me borrow it, and I switch out a card every week on my kitchen sink.

I flip this one over.  And there it is:

I look up Romans 14:4 in my Bible, which uses the word, "stand", instead of succeed.  I have my answer.

This verse speaks of one who holds a conviction that another might not, and says that it is before his own master that each one stands or falls.  Then comes this gem of a verse, which God used to show me:

It will not be my excellent parenting, wise cautions, morning Bible stories, faithfulness to pray, quick answers, flawless theology, or careful sheltering that enables my boy to stand in conviction...to SHINE in the darkness.

It will be the work of Almighty God.  Nothing else.

And so, this week, I continue my Bible stories, our memory verses, and my prayers...NOT because they will make him stand. But because they will show him Jesus. And HE is able to make him stand.

And now, how do I let go?

And the question on my mind as I laid in bed this morning?  "How will I ever let go of that little hand when it's time?"

Because, you see, I can hold that hand all day long.  I can wash it with soapy water.  I can high-five it.  I can smack it when it reaches for an electrical outlet.  But let it go?

Simply because I had to prepare for my kindergarten Sunday school class and also simply because God's timing is perfect, I read the beginning of 1 Samuel today.  And God introduced me to Hannah.  I couldn't help but wonder as I imagined Hannah leading her (probably) THREE year old son to the "house of the Lord" (which was not the nice place it sound like because of the corrupt priests within its walls): how DID she let go of that hand?

And no one would blame Hannah for going back on her word.  I mean, come on...she'd had no children, she'd prayed and waited desperately for years, and had vowed that if God gave her a son, she'd dedicate him to the Lord. She said she'd take him to Shiloh, to be raised by the preists there, once he was weaned.  But couldn't she just have had a little more time with him?  To cradle that precious face?  Laugh at his jokes?  Celebrate his birthdays?  Sing him to sleep?

But for Hannah, parenting was not just about these treasured things.  This boy, her only child, was a gift from God...given not only to her, but to the nation of Israel as well.  He was a light, shining in a very dark time.  Though Hannah could not have known all that God had planned to do in and through Samuel, she trusted her God and kept her commitment to what His spirit had prompted her to do.  For Hannah, parenting was about acknowledging the sovereignty of  God and entrusting her most precious treasure to Him.

Thanks to Hannah, I knew what to do when the first bell rang this morning and all the kids lined up to go inside.  I let go of Andy's hand, and my heart immediately grabbed onto my Father's hand.  And Hannah and I- we did not leave our boys in the hands of the perverse, the wicked, the corrupt.  We placed them right where they belong - in the hands of their loving Creator.  And we left giving thanks for His goodness, His strength, His power, His faithfulness - albeit, through tears.

And this is the verse that my husband sent through email to our son today; but really, God sent it through him to me -

"fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my victorious right hand."
-Isaiah 41:10

And I held that victorious hand all the way home.

And Andy?  Well. He had a pretty good day.  He says he got sad a few times that he wasn't home, but that he quickly "snapped out of it" and went back to what he was doing.  In my book, that's sheer grace.

And then we talked of glow-in-the-dark stickers, and how they soak up the sun's light and glow bright in the darkness.

The Night Before

Those blue eyes scanned the brightly lit classroom today, and I couldn't help but choke back the inevitable tears.  Wasn't I just nursing this boy?  Feeding him his first bottle?  Teaching him to walk? Isn't this the boy who just yesterday, could barely pronounce the word, "teacher"?  And now, he's having quite the entertaining conversation with his soon to be teacher about the color of apples.  As they say, "where does the time go"?

Oh, I have wrestled with and prayed over and read and contemplated and discussed and agonized over the "right" way to educate this young man.  And I feel a thousand things all at once...that I'm giving my son over to someone else to raise; that I'm sending him into a system that will do whatever it can to disillusion him and dampen his spirit; that because of the social pressure he'll experience, he'll never be the innocent, sweet boy that he is now.  He'll encounter talk of drugs, sex, disdain for one's parents, long before I ever did....and I was too young.

Yet, I also feel a sadness for the thousands of souls who walk through the doors of public schools every day in America that have never heard the name of Jesus.  They walk through those doors alone, and carry burdens they were never meant to bear.  They are lonely, weak, tired, and broken.  Some attempt to fill the emptiness with accomplishments and dreams of success, others with friendships and acceptance at any cost.  Their parents send them to school to learn the truth; and yet, they wont encounter the fullness of the truth there...unless, of course, they encounter Jesus Christ Himself.

This is where we believe our calling lies.  We have enrolled our son in public school not because it is the "best" way to educate him; not because we think we can keep him from succumbing to all the temptations it offers way too early in life; not because I don't have confidence in my own ability to teach my children; but because our God has called us as a family to form relationships with people within the public school system that desperately need Him, and show them His unfailing love.  I say this weakly and strongly.  My flesh is weak- I'm certainly afraid of my sweet boy being chewed up and spit out by mean kids, uncaring teachers, and high-sounding empty  philosophy.  Yet, I am strong, because:

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths."

I don't know if God will have us stick with public school for 12 months or 12 years.  All I can say is that we are trusting Him, and are very much looking forward to seeing how He directs our paths.  Please come along with us and see how God works in us and our soon-to-be friends in a place that cries out for His love.