Rejoice

It has been a sick week around here.  We have been resting up.  So just a quick post today.

***

It seemed appropriate to me that these verses were among the first I read as I sat down this afternoon as everyone else naps. 

“Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.” 

-Philippians 4:4-5 

I have been rejoicing in the Lord this week. 

In the midst of sickness, there has been so much provision: doctors with Zofran to calm Little Love’s stomach, a husband to hold my hair out of the way of the toilet multiple times in the middle of the night, family who stepped in to care for a little one so I could rest, rest, energy returned, food brought when making food was still beyond me, help offered by friends, and the capacity to care for a sick one returned home from a trip. 

I have been aware of God’s presence. 

I have found my mind wandering to the idea of how this sickness totally wiped me out physically.  As I have considered this, I found myself freshly aware that sin totally wipes me out spiritually. I am utterly unable to cope with the consequences of sin in my life.  It is in Jesus I am made new, because of his death and resurrection.  He takes that old life and leads me to a new way of living.  This is another reason I have been thankful this week! 

It looks as though it may be another long weekend and so I have been praying for His gentleness to care for my dear ones.

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we rejoice in the Lord always.  Whatever life brings, may we have eyes to see the goodness of the God and sense His nearness to us as we walk through it. 

Jessica :)

Grace and Peace

It is the third time I walk up the stairs to her room in fifteen minutes. 

The first had been a triple whammy that took me off guard in about two or three seconds—smacking my face, quickly followed by grabbing the glasses off of my face in anger and putting her foot into the potty (which was fortunately empty)—just as we were about to pull up her pants. 

The second time I came up the stairs, I sat with her discussing what had just happened.  After she owned that she smacked her mother, pulled the glasses from my face and put her foot in the potty, she once again pulled off my glasses.  She was no longer angry; but, the attempt at a mini-practice of asking me to take my glasses off, did not go well.

Now, as I enter her room, I find my Little Love quiet after a few minutes of screaming protest at being returned to her crib.  She looks up at me and reaches.  “Hold-y,” she cries out.

I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to the nearby recliner.  “Let’s talk,” I reply seriously.

“Did you grab the glasses off of mama’s face?”  I ask her.

“Yes!” she admits, enthusiastically.  I am pleased with her honesty and also a little amused at the way her tone doesn’t seem to acknowledge that there is anything wrong with her behavior.  We are learning around here, for sure.

We talk about the way we ask mama to take glasses off to look at the eyes hiding behind them.  We do not rip them from mama’s face.  We practice once again. 

I say, “Can you ask mama to take off her glasses?” 

She says, “Please.”   The way she uses the word is often more of a statement.  It is given that the glasses are indeed what she is interested in and she adds her polite “please” so she can proceed with the fun as soon as possible.

I take off my glasses and we commence the game that she often asks to play—me winking, blinking and batting my eyes at her.  After a few minutes, I stop and thank her for asking me to take off the glasses instead of grabbing them off my face.  I tell her I love her. 

She looks at me and says, “Grace and peace, Mama.”

These are the words that we share before she goes to bed at night, “Grace and peace from God to you, the grace and peace of Jesus.”  I stare back at her and wonder how she knows to use them now.  Has she overheard Jason and I using them with each other?  We don’t always, but often enough.
  

All that is in me softens at her words. 

They take me back to a Mars Hill podcast about Philippians 1:1-2 I listened to in 2008. It was a sermon that forever changed the way I thought of this greeting in most of the New Testament epistles.

Rob Bell* defined grace in a few ways from the Greek word charis.  The first definition he gave was “joy, pleasure, favor, gratification, and acceptance.”  The next was “a favor done without expectation of return.”  The last he shared was from Spiro Zodiakes “the absolutely free expression of the love of God finding its only motive in the bounty and benevolence of God.”

Next, he took some time to define the word “peace.”  The Greek is aranay.  It means every kind of good (similar to its Hebrew counterpart shalom).  In the Bible, it is used in the present tense form, with the exception of one instance where it is in the future tense.  So when we read it, we should read it: every kind of good right now.

He moved from defining the terms to expressing them as the people we are to be—people that speak grace and peace; people who need grace and peace; people who interrupt with grace and peace; people who live grace and peace.  We are to be known for being people who share and are committed to speaking God’s grace and peace to others, including ourselves, in everything. 

My little one is exactly right—grace and peace.  Isn’t this the way we should want every conflict to end?

Isn’t this the way Jesus answers us when we come surrendered and trust him to take all that we have done wrong and lay it before the cross?  He brings His resurrection life and offers us grace and peace.

She offers an invitation to lay this time of conflict behind us with every kind of good right now and full of the free expression of the love of God, full of joy, favor and acceptance. 

Who can resist such an offer?

I touch her cheek, ever so gently, and say, “Grace and peace, Little Love.”

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we respond in all things (especially conflict) and to everyone we meet with the grace and peace of Jesus.  May we find that we speak His life and love to everyone we meet and are filled to overflowing with the gift that we share.

Jessica :)



P.S.  In thinking about grace and peace this week I have found myself humming along to this Jill Phillips song that became a favorite of mine during the early morning drives when I was headed to work in the first couple of months we lived in Utah.  May you listen and find yourself clinging to the grace and peace that comes through Jesus.  If you really like it you might consider adding it to your library.  (Just so you know...I don't actually know Jill Phillips.  I have not been asked to promote her music.  I just believe that if I enjoy an artist, you should support them!  And...I would have embedded the video, but that feature doesn't seem to be working for me today! The video will go into the post, but not appear in any of the previews I have done...Sorry about that!)

*Admittedly, Rob Bell has been a rather controversial figure in the Christian community for awhile now.  I don't believe or necessarily agree with everything he has written or taught.  However, the series on Philippians is one of the best sermon series I have listened to.  As with any speaker, teacher, author it is important to thoughtfully consider what they teach in light of what the Bible says. 

It Is Well

When I think of you, I remember a younger me. 

I remember many times when we sat with Marie and our friends, Bibles open and talking about it.  In the early days, Molly and I perfected the art of avoiding eye contact with Marie so we didn't have to share first.  The awkwardness between new people faded over the years to where it would be hard to believe that we didn't always share secrets and struggles and the things that good friends do. We all enjoyed each other so well.  You always spoke straight from the heart and got straight to the point with your wondering and sharing and confronting.  Wise woman.  I learned about praying out loud, during those years, with you and with our friends. 

I remember squeezing into Marie's Toyota Paseo, so many different times.  Mostly, I remember there was enough room for everyone as we drove home; but occasionally, we packed in like sardines—like the time we kidnapped Molly for her birthday.  I think you were on crutches and got to sit up front because of your injured leg.  We went back to Marie’s place, the one with the breakfast nook, for dinner.  Afterwards, I remember us cheering with Deborah during Return from Snowy River,  "Go Jim go!"  We cheered for the dashing hero on his black stallion.
  
There were other movies too, like The Shawshank Redemption and The Great Escape, during sleepovers.  There were also many musicals and plays at Walnut and Finneytown.  On our way to watch Ellen in Godspell, I remember talking about whether the note I received from Will during study hall meant anything; in it he had drawn my profile and written about "the North girl."
  
What fun times those were!

I went looking for a particular photo of our small group last week.  I never found it.  But Molly did!

I found a photo from Resident Camp, instead.  I remember eating with your campers while I served on Girls Crew.  You were such a wonderful counselor.

I remember having gym class together too.  I was so relieved to know someone else that first day.  I think it must have been with Mr. Christoph, because I remember being on mats tumbling and talking with you, Lindsay, and Tiphanie.  If I am remembering correctly, I think we spent the beginning of the semester lamenting our lack of volleyball skills.  Very few of us did well on the bumping and setting tests. 

You always seemed so comfortable with who you were.  I think that is pretty rare in a middle school or high school student.  You made me feel like I could be me around you, the me that was still trying to figure out who I really was—even if that meant you were witness to ridiculous dance choreography in the bathroom just down the hall from the lunchroom.  We laughed about it, but I never felt foolish for sharing that piece of me with you. (Though, now, I would like to groan that I ever thought that was remotely cool. Oh well!)

That was a precious gift you gave me then.

I did not know I could really live authentically until years later.  But years later, I do know that is the best way to really live, even if it sometimes feels very risky.  If we are never fully known, we can never be fully loved.  You were known and loved, friend.

It seems such a long time since those days. 

Life seldom brought us together since then. (Those few moments when it did were sweet).  From afar, I loved watching your adventures.  You seemed to have such a “seize the day” way of living.  It took you all over the world.  You found so many kindred spirits, touched so many lives.  I know we are all richer for knowing you.  I am.

Now, you are gone. 

(You, who were always so full of life and laughter and making things beautiful—can it really be?)

It reminds me that this world is broken and of my longing for home.  It makes me long for the day when all will be made right.  In that place, in the presence of Jesus, you are whole again.  Sickness does not have the last word, neither does death.  For that, I am so very thankful.

I remember Marie sharing this passage from 1 Peter about character with me. 

“Wives, in the same way submit yourselves to your own husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to adorn themselves. They submitted themselves to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her lord. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear.”   – 1 Peter 3:3-6 

I think it is especially the last line that makes me think of it now. 

“You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear.” 

What a courageous woman you were, my friend.  You faced months of treatment, friends and family beside you, near and far, praying.  You did not give way to fear. 

I want to live like that too! 

These were God’s words to Joshua and the people of Israel as they entered the Promised Land: 

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” – Joshua 1:9

The road ahead of Israel was full of promise in the midst of difficulty.  In the midst of all of this, God told them not to fear, he would be right there.  He would not leave of forsake them.  What words of hope!  What words of comfort!  

God goes with us wherever we go. 

You must have taken hold of God’s promises in the midst of such difficulty. 

His promises are the springs of life that keep us going.

I believe that our names tell us something about who we are. 

Your namesake was loyal, determined, strong and brave—like you.  She, too, was no stranger to difficulty. 

You know what?  Her story doesn’t end in death, it ends in life.  It ends with a redeemer. 

So does your story, Ruth.  Because Jesus lives, so will you. 

Because of all this, it is well. 

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we trust in the promises of God.  May we cling to Jesus as our sure hope in the face of sin and guilt and death.  May we trust that His resurrection life will right all the wrongs and make all things new.  Because of this we can say it is well.

Jessica

Isaiak!

I pull her out of her seat at the table and set her on the ground as the next song begins to play off my phone. 

My Little Love runs into the next room as the words begin, “Isaiah 6:1-3.” 

“Isaiak!” she squeals, running back towards me. 

(She may or may not have Isaiah the prophet crossed with baby Isaac who we read about last night.  Or perhaps, it is Isaiah 6 she is trying to say.  I am not totally sure.  I smile at her.) 

“Yes.  Isaiah 6,” I affirm. 

I run downstairs to move some laundry over while she runs around on the wood floors—exploring, dancing, repeating the location of the verses in the song over and over.  “Isaiak.  Isaiak.  Isaiak.”   

The song plays on. 

“In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, sitting upon a throne high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple.  Above him stood the seraphim, each had six wings: With two he covered his face, with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.  And one called to another and said:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;
    the whole earth is full of his glory.”

-Isaiah6:1-3 (ESV) 

When she hears the word “Holy” she stops. 
  

It has been a word that she has been using for weeks or maybe even months now.  Holy and beloved.  Silent night, holy night.  She hears it and usually enters into her own moment of calling out, “Holy.  Holy.  Holy.” 

She sings “holy" at the table.

She sings “holy” while she plays.

She sings “holy” in her car seat.

She sings “holy” in the middle of the grocery store.  (This one surprised me.  But sure enough, the words to the music, as we rolled through the baking aisle in Meijer searching for food coloring, were saying just that.)

She sings “holy” as she lies in my arms before bed. 

I am amazed by this Little Love.  The way she is so observant and attentive causes me to pause.  As she begins to sing “Holy,” once again, with such earnestness and joy, I stop.  I don’t want to miss it! 

The God she sings about is holy.   

This moment we are living right now, holy.  It is a chance to live worship. 

And this holy God?  He calls me his chosen one, holy and beloved. 

Something in my heart changes in these moments.  I can’t help but think of Moses standing before the burning bush as God says, “Take off your sandals, for where you are standing is holy ground”(Exodus 3:5).

I can’t help but smile.  I can’t help but join her in this chorus:   

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;
    the whole earth is full of his glory.” 

Because He is holy.  This is a moment to worship.  This moment is one in which I am invited to put on love. 

And so I do. 

***

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we stop to embrace each moment as one to be lived worshipping the Holy One,  humbled to be called God’s holy and beloved children, and standing on holy ground. 

Jessica :)  

P.S.  Family Seeds Worship is wonderful.  It is Scripture set to music.  We usually listen at breakfast to begin the day off with God's Word.  We do more if my Little Love asks throughout the day, which she often does.  By listening she is memorizing Scripture and she doesn't even realize she is doing it.  I love that she is hiding God's word in her heart with such joy.

For the Tired and Weary

After I lay my Little Love down, I find my way to the love seat where my Bible and journal sit tucked in a bin nearby.  I pull them out and set them beside me while I pile on the blankets.  I grab my Bible and pause, holding it in my left hand.  I could open to my bookmark in John and read, my heart, my body weary.  Instead, I pause to breathe deeply and to talk to God: 

God, I have come.  I have come after a challenging day yesterday.   I had hoped for a fresh start in the morning.  I had hoped to leave the tantrums of yesterday behind with sleep, but that didn’t happen.  I realize that my girl is tired.  I noticed that she has a gum bulging with a new tooth waiting to come through.  It must hurt.  I know there is an explanation for much of her behavior, though I don’t understand it all.  I am having a really hard time being all here and all in control.  I don’t want to be the problem in my day.  That was me yesterday.  I don’t want that to be me today.  I don’t want to raise my voice.  I don’t want to speak in clipped, sharp tones.  I want to see her cues and respond like You would, Jesus. 

As I talk of this, I think to myself how much I am like my child before God.  I hurt, I grow cranky and tired.  I am uncooperative and I lash out, most often with my tongue.  I am disobedient.  Since I am tired and weary when my Little Love behaves this way, I imagine that when I am like my girl God must feel like me—tired and weary. 

At this thought, your answer comes swiftly. 

No! No! No!  

You speak ever so gently. 

You may be like her.  But I do not feel like you.  Don’t you remember?   I do not grow tired or weary.

The words of a song I learned at camp, one Jr. High summer long ago, come to mind. 

“Do you not know?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” - Isaiah 40:28-29 

Oh, how you comfort me with your words.  You meet me where I am—tired and weary.  You promise to give me strength and to increase my power.  My circumstances may not change, but You change me in them. 

I often forget it, but you God, you are holy.  You are set apart.  You are so very different than me.  I am broken.  You are whole.  You are gentle.  You love me perfectly in my brokenness and lead me towards wholeness.  You are able to do so much more than I can imagine. 

I open the Bible in my hand and begin searching to find these words in Isaiah 40. 

The words of promise continue. 

“Even youths grow tired and weary; and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”  -Isaiah 40:30-31 

I grab hold of your promises.  I take that which you have promised and claim it for myself today circling all the behaviors and tantrums and exhaustion and pain and whatever may arise in prayer.  I am placing my hope in the Lord.  I know that whatever comes, you will give me the strength to bear it with your heart for my sweet girl.  Knowing this, I find that inwardly I am soaring. 

*** 

Grace and peace be ours in abundance as we trust in the promises of God and claim them for ourselves today.   May He bear us up and lead us to live abundantly in all things. 

Jessica :)