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It’s Awareness Day
She’s finally driving. My daughter turned 15 nine months ago and I finally talked her into getting her permit. She has no intentions of using it, well not often anyway. I pretty much make her drive, or make it sound exciting enough that she wants to. Then she starts down the road, stresses at every light and turn and hates it…every minute of it. She is likely to have a heart attack by 17 if she continues at this pace.
I was emphasizing the importance of a turn signal and when to use it. “Yes, even if you are in a turn lane, you need to have your blinker on.” Followed by the question, “How exactly DID you get your permit?”
Answered with, “The questions were about towing vehicles. I’m not thinking I’m going to tow a vehicle with my car anytime soon. Anytime. Ever. And if I’m in a turn lane, then everyone should know I’m turning.”
Driving boils down to awareness. I need to be aware of what is happening around me, and I need to make people aware of what I’m doing and what my intentions are. Awareness is such an overused term these days. We have “awareness” (and ribbons) for every issue, every disease, every plight, every personal issue, every tick, every fingernail broken. We want everyone to be aware of everything.
All the while, Jesus wants us to be aware of him. Our relationship with him boils down to awareness. We need to be aware of what Jesus is doing around us, and we need to make people aware of what Jesus is doing with us and through us. Our ribbon is how we live our life. It’s pretty much that simple.
I love how when I’m teaching my daughter to drive (and I say that knowing you realize it’s more me screaming and gasping)…that Jesus is teaching me more about Him and His purpose for all humanity. It’s how He rolls.
Are you aware of Him today?
Sheep. Kids. They Are All The Same.
Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you. Deuteronomy 8:5
I am, on all levels, an every day ordinary girl. My nails always crack and my polish is always chipped. I love hitting the snooze button but hate bedtime. I leave drawers and cabinet doors ajar because I hate the sound of them closing, and it drives my very military husband insane. Sometimes I yell at my kids, and hide in the bathroom. I’m always late. Always.
I am ordinary. And so was Amos. Amos bred sheep–I breed sheep or kids, either one. Amos tended to the fruit of the sycamore tree. I tend to my little fruit loops and often am sick-of-more and more of their antics (ha ha, see what I did there). Amos was not from any priestly or noble decent. Even though at times I think I am some sort of princess, I’m just a girl from Texas. Amos was an everyday ordinary guy, and God used him. I like to think that God uses me.
During the time that God gave Amos a message to share, The Northern Kingdom of Israel was rockin’. They were in a place of economic prosperity. There was a sense of security and peace among the people and the nations. Times were good yet the people were smug about God’s favor. However, God was not happy because a midst their seemingly perfect world was a people dedicated to “moral decay and spiritual corruption.”
We all look at our families like that sometimes. Read More
Amos and His Big Mouth
A few months ago I was hanging outside in the back, stealing my neighbors lounge chair as the morning was settling in. It was one of those mornings where I was going to start my day off right, soaking in Jesus a midst nature. “Filling my cup” so I could be like one of those mom’s that write blogs and puts makeup on and does dishes, and picks up kids from school on time. So I figured God was on my side and I wanted a really great “quiet time” story. You know what I’m talking about, right? When you are talking to your friends and they are sharing how hard something is, or a marital struggle, and you can so nonchalantly interject, “In my quiet time this morning, Jesus brought me to this passage…” and your friends can then all stand in awe of your amazing self-discipline to be “In the Word” everyday, and not only strive to be like you, but are secretly jealous of your strong character. I have those days when I feel like I can be that mom, but they only happen once every six months or so.
I was absolutely irritated when God brought me to the book of…WAIT FOR IT…Amos. I mean who needs the book of Amos, unless you’re a Pastor. But obediently I read it [insert your jealousy]. I ended up being amazed at why God brought me to it, and now I want to bring you through it. But the way I want to teach you about Amos is in regards to how we discipline our children. I know I can get lots of hate mail and death threats from this, but I think it’s worth a look. And you will soon see why.
You see I have this rub with lots of ways people parent these days. Most parents want to negotiate, and logical-ize with their children. They want their kids to always feel heard and loved and accepted and secure. They are willing to overlook serious sin (from God’s perspective) because they don’t want their kids to “feeeeel” bad or ” feeeeeel” rejected. Parents often parent out of fear…fear of the future….fear of lost relationship….fear of responsibility of how their kids turn out. I talk to lots of moms who don’t know how to handle their child’s direct disobedience, or temper tantrums. They are baffled at a child’s lack of respect and regard for them as an authority. They just don’t know what to do. And often times, when I suggest discipline, I get a deer in the headlights look. Or worse, “that just won’t work on my kid.”
More often than not, when I have parenting conversations with my husband, most of my parenting follies come down to my own mommy/daddy unresolved issues. I over compensate for what I didn’t get when I was a child or I fear my children won’t understand the depth of my love for them. Granted, you may parent that way as well. You and I have also bought into a bunch of psycho-babble hype on how to “raise” your kids. Don’t get me wrong, I promote some psychological ways to bring kids to a place of safety in hopes of changing their behavior. But as Christian parents we are all missing the Ark if we aren’t willing to look to the Bible for true parenting instruction.
God called us his children, and he called Israel his Children. He dealt with them as a father would his child. With strict measures, clear cut laws and boundaries, but with a willingness to extend grace. We want to see the loving and mercy-filled God in our lives, and want to mimic that for our children. Often times we skip over the justice parts, like the people in the book of Amos, because it’s just too hard and today’s society just wouldn’t accept it.
If you are brave enough to enter into God’s presence and are willing enough to allow me to navigate you, I think you might be surprised that discipline in the Bible goes beyond spare the rod and spoil the child. Our relationship with God as a just Father can pour into our parenting our children, if only we let it.
Starting MONDAY you can read
Let’s Talk About: Preacher’s Daughters
Yah, I got sucked in! Preacher’s Daughters is a new show on Lifetime. I’m always interested in how the mainstream interprets the lives of those in ministry. I could definitely tell a bit of “overacting” when the camera got too close. Because just in case you didn’t know, Reality TV is often NOT actually reality. Sorry if I ruined your day ….
I think it’s interesting to see that the families that were picked had ‘real world’ issues. Divorce, teenage pregnancy, disobedience. As a fellow “pastor” (and I use that term loosely) it is refreshing that Christians aren’t made out to be perfect.
I was reminded of walking with a neighbor a few years ago and we were chatting about the kids in the neighborhood. As we passed a house she pointed and said, “Those kids are the worst. Always cussing and acting stupid. And they are even pastors kids.”
Later I walked to my house after dropping her off and wondered if Pastor’s kids had some sort of special DNA or gene that exempted them from temptation and the realities of sin. The world definitely has an expectation on families in ministry to act differently and respond differently to the culture and the natural sinfulness of the world.
But like everyone else, we are only human. We have a heart after God, wanting to do His will and lead people to Him, but we don’t always get it right. And often times our kids are just along for the ride.
I don’t agree with everything on the show. I definitely see the brokenness in the single mom and the way she parents in fear and other parenting struggles where the camera adds ten pounds.
Regardless of our vocation, one with eternal purpose or not, it’s hard to raise kids. Everyone is different and we have become a different person with every child. It is a daily prayer walk of fully relying on God and trusting Him to do His part as we do ours!
You are loved,
Dreams for Sale on the Internet
The last few days I’ve spent ample time with Zac. He’s been home from school with pulmonary junk. So between the million breathing treatments, we’ve watched the Karate Kid at least as many times. Zac loves to punch and kick and flip. So after the millionth time of me asking him to sit down and stop putting himself on the brink of respiratory failure, he settled in with my iPad.
“Mom, how do you spell karate?”
Before I knew it, Zac was on Karate Depot investigating how much black belts cost.
“Mom, can I buy a black belt?”
So being the fantastic, insightful mom I am, I replied with, “A black belt can’t be bought. It must be earned.”
Quickly, Zac was just as insightful, “I am going to earn it–well, I’m going to pretend I did.”
Isn’t that the American way? We want to pretend, or live as if, we have earned something. We want a fantastic marriage, but we don’t want to fight our way through it. We want kids who are well-adjusted and able to handle no matter what comes their way, but we don’t want to impose the boundaries. We want that deep faith in God, but shrug our shoulders at the thought of daily prayer and Bible reading.
All of us on some level want to pretend we’ve earned all the benefits of maturity. We shop at a Karate Depot, or Marriage Depot, or Parenting Depot, hoping to find something that will give us an outward badge of honor–to show the world our amazing-ness. We are willing to pay the $29.95 and even the inflated shipping fees if only it will give us the shortcut.
I wish I could purchase a black belt in writing, and in teenage dating issues, and in church planting, and in marriage. But even if I did, when it came down to the time to battle the enemy, I would lose.
I finished the conversation with my determined child forehead to forehead. I looked him in the eyes and said, “We can’t cheat our way through things. We have to work hard, train, do whatever it takes to get our black belt. Even if it takes 15 years to get it. And that’s not just with Kung Fu. We have to work hard to be whatever it is we dream about. We can’t buy our dreams on the internet.”
He flipped and kicked his way upstairs and came down with his Judo uniform and proudly tied his white belt. The kicking and flipping never stopped, but hopefully he learned–hopefully we have learned–that whatever it is we want to be best in, whatever we want to wear a black belt for, will take doing the hard work!
Happy Friday. You are loved!
