One of the benefits of having an unsettled baby is that you are awake in the small hours of the morning and you can have those 4am hazy chats with God that have an honest quality to them unlike daytime prayers when your rational brain can get in the way and obscure how you really feel.
I was talking to God about how I was hurting with the way, after praying every night for Amber to sleep better for months and months on end, there has been no improvement at all. In fact, she has got worse. I ended up coming round to telling God that I was still upset by how we prayed and prayed for a friend of ours a couple of years ago, yet she died of cancer and God didn't make her better.
Its hard to persevere in prayer when you feel God can hear you but for one reason or another doesn't seem to be getting involved. But then it occurred to me that there are plenty of other cases where God has intervened, and people I know have got better. In my 4am openness I began to feel bad that I was giving God a hard time over one disappointment, one grief, and letting that experience determine my faith, instead of looking at all the times He has graciously stepped in and saved.
I became aware that I had been dwelling on thoughts that weren't from God, feelings that hadn't been brought into the light, and I'd let them come between us. 'Take captive every thought and make it submit to Christ' I remembered.
My doubts of the consistency of God's affections for us are obviously harmful, but what's the antidote? The Truth. I felt the need for some truth. Truth to fasten tightly round my waist so I can stand my ground in my struggle to persevere. I thought about all kinds of scriptures, but what it all boiled down to, the thing that I really needed to hold on to is this: God is love. By His very nature He is loving. He doesn't turn it on and off.
Then my prophetic side kicked in, and I felt the need to ask a wider audience: What truth do you need to hold on to today in your own personal struggles? Everyone needs the belt of truth to hold their trousers up! I felt God wanted people to ask Him what truth they need to hear as the antidote to their own fears, insecurities, doubts, and worries that quietly fester under the surface.
When it came time to get up this morning, all my thoughts of the night started to dissipate, and I was wondering how much of the conversation was me, and how much was divine, but when I sat at my desk, I found an anonymous card that someone from church had passed to Matt for me last night saying this:
You are loved by Love Himself.
Ah, ok, so I was hearing from God last night! But then I had to get the girls ready for school and nursery, and take Amber to get her 12 month injections, then feed her and put her to bed, and again, the motivation to write was fading as the day went on.
But as I was giving Amber her lunch, I got a message via a friend on facebook saying she had been praying for me. She said this:
Struck by how much intimate, interested love Jesus showed for his disciples the night before he died. Such care to encourage, equip and also in the smaller issues such as organising where they had the meal etc.. We have an awesome God whose love for you is not just BIG but also has daily and detailed interest. What an amazing person in whom to trust!
God seems to be really keen I get this Love thing today!
Maybe God has something He wants you to grasp too, so may I urge you to take a minute today to ask God what is the truth that He has for you, the truth that can empower you to keep going and enable you can stand firm and like me, resist those niggling feelings that erode our faith.
10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. (Ephesians 6)
Thanks for reading, have a great day!
Jo Parkins
Thoughts to share...
Friday, 1 March 2013
Friday, 20 April 2012
Is She a Good Baby?
My youngest, Amber, is now 9 weeks old. She is entering a very cute stage. She's lost her newborn shrivelled look and is getting chubby cheeks and a gorgeous smile that lights up the room, and melts hearts! I usually wear her in a sling because she tends to cry in her buggy and I can't go anywhere at the moment without being stopped by cooing women wanting to look at her! The questions I get are always the same, and the conversation goes like this:
Stranger, smiling: Aw, isn't she lovely! How old is she? She is a girl isn't she?
Me, smiling back: Yes, she's a girl! She's 9 weeks old.
Stranger, moving in closer: She's gorgeous, and just look at that smile! What's her name?
Me, turning the baby round a bit so the captivated stranger can get a better look: Amber
Stranger, now talking in a baby voice to get more smiles from the happy baby: What a pretty name! You are lovely aren't you? Oh yes, you know you're lovely don't you?
And here's the crunch. The next question kills it for me:
Stranger, now turning Scarlett or Sienna, my two older girls who are patiently standing with me: Do you like having a baby sister? I bet you do! Is she a good baby?
(Is she a good baby???? I ask you! Now what is a 5 year old supposed to say to that? - 'No, she's bad, really bad, she steals and swears and smokes'?)
Scarlett, squirming, nervously giggles: yes, she's good.
Me and the the stranger part company, the stranger feeling a warm glow inside, while I am quietly seething.
Now this conversation may seem innocent to most people, but to me, its a symptom of a bigger issue. How can a 9 week old baby be anything but good? What the well-meaning lady means is 'does the baby cry much?' That's different. And what if I said 'No, she's not good.' What then? Does the stranger say 'Oh what a shame'?
I think the 'Is the baby good' question irks me because right from the start of a new life, we learn that to be unhappy or to struggle or have issues is bad. A 'good' person is always happy. Its 'bad' not to be on top form all the time. It makes me want to scream!
I will love my baby just the same if she screamed all day and all night. Yes, life would be a lot harder, but my love is unconditional. I want my kids to grow up knowing that its ok to be good or bad - mummy's love (and more importantly, their Heavenly Father's love) won't change if they have a bad day, or a bad week, or a bad year.
We live in a performance-driven society where we strive to be successful, and feel bad about ourselves if we don't reach our goals. Its so sad that so many people base their self worth on their achievements, their success, their ability to be a 'good' person. I don't want my kids to feel that pain. So forgive me if I slap the next person who asks if my baby is 'good'!
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
In Your Face!
Matthew 9:27 After Jesus left the girl’s home, two blind men followed along behind him, shouting, “Son of David, have mercy on us!”
I have read this passage twice recently, and both times I have felt God nudge me to say something about it.
Don't you find it odd that despite Jesus being on a roll with the miraculous - he has just raised a little girl from the dead moments before these verses - he doesn't immediately heal the blind men? Jesus actually seems to ignore them and goes on home. How rude! I wonder how this made the blind men feel? Discouraged? Angry? Embarrassed?
Sometimes it feels like God doesn't respond to us either. Ever feel like those blind men?
But what do they do? Do they quit? Do they bad-mouth Jesus and go away resentful? No, they follow Him and get right up in Jesus' face. They actually enter the home where Jesus was staying - uninvited - and approach Him with their request. Now Jesus can't ignore them. Now they have His full attention, or more importantly, now Jesus has their full attention.
I wonder if this story is a little bit like the Lover in the Song of Songs who hides from the beloved to draw her to Himself more completely. She has to pursue him, and put some effort into finding him, at a personal cost too, to have that wonderful experience of finding Him and be united with Him.
Here, in this passage from Matthew, the blind men also have to pursue Jesus. They have to endure the journey to the place where Jesus was staying.
Are we prepared to make the journey to where Jesus is staying? 'The place where Jesus was staying' is an interesting phrase. What does this mean in our individual contexts? Where can we see Jesus residing? Can we follow Him there?
When the blind men get to Jesus, they have a more intimate exchange with Jesus than they could have done if Jesus had healed them from among the crowds following Him. It is worth it to press in, to persevere in our pursuit to find Jesus, because maybe the very fact that he is staying away is because he wants to draw us in more deeply.
Hang in there and press in - God has got something for you, you just can't see it yet.
28 They went right into the house where he was staying, and Jesus asked them, “Do you believe I can make you see?”
“Yes, Lord,” they told him, “we do.”
29 Then he touched their eyes and said, “Because of your faith, it will happen.”
I have read this passage twice recently, and both times I have felt God nudge me to say something about it.
Don't you find it odd that despite Jesus being on a roll with the miraculous - he has just raised a little girl from the dead moments before these verses - he doesn't immediately heal the blind men? Jesus actually seems to ignore them and goes on home. How rude! I wonder how this made the blind men feel? Discouraged? Angry? Embarrassed?
Sometimes it feels like God doesn't respond to us either. Ever feel like those blind men?
But what do they do? Do they quit? Do they bad-mouth Jesus and go away resentful? No, they follow Him and get right up in Jesus' face. They actually enter the home where Jesus was staying - uninvited - and approach Him with their request. Now Jesus can't ignore them. Now they have His full attention, or more importantly, now Jesus has their full attention.
I wonder if this story is a little bit like the Lover in the Song of Songs who hides from the beloved to draw her to Himself more completely. She has to pursue him, and put some effort into finding him, at a personal cost too, to have that wonderful experience of finding Him and be united with Him.
Here, in this passage from Matthew, the blind men also have to pursue Jesus. They have to endure the journey to the place where Jesus was staying.
Are we prepared to make the journey to where Jesus is staying? 'The place where Jesus was staying' is an interesting phrase. What does this mean in our individual contexts? Where can we see Jesus residing? Can we follow Him there?
When the blind men get to Jesus, they have a more intimate exchange with Jesus than they could have done if Jesus had healed them from among the crowds following Him. It is worth it to press in, to persevere in our pursuit to find Jesus, because maybe the very fact that he is staying away is because he wants to draw us in more deeply.
Hang in there and press in - God has got something for you, you just can't see it yet.
Friday, 9 March 2012
Taking it Personally
Last night I read the story of Peter walking on the water. Its a well-known passage about faith, and I've read it hundreds of times before, but this time I was reading my 'New Living Translation' that adds one little word that the NIV version doesn't have, and it makes all the difference to see faith in a new light.
The NLT says, "31 Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him. “You have so little faith,” Jesus said.“Why did you doubt me?”
The NIV says, 31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said,“why did you doubt?”
When I read the bible I always imagine myself in the story, as if Jesus is speaking to me directly, and to be honest, the NIV version of this verse makes me feel like a worm! I hear condemnation, and feel failure for my lack of ability to do as Jesus does - in this case, walk on the water.
When I read the same verse in the NLT, its no longer all about me, it makes me suddenly aware of the effect Peter's fear had on Jesus. The NLT Jesus seems to take Peter's lack of faith very personally: 'Why did you doubt me?' Jesus seems offended, even hurt, that Peter could entertain the idea that Jesus would let him drown. The verse is no longer about me, its about Him.
Faith is personal. Not just to me, but to Jesus too.
It got me thinking. Do I live like Jesus is affected by my faith or lack thereof? I'm so self-absorbed that I rarely stop to think how my thoughts are affecting my Maker. Is He hurt when I act like I'm not sure of His love for me or those around me?
I totally forget how I can make God glad or sad. For some reason, its hard to shift the belief that because God doesn't change, and He knows the outcome already, it doesn't affect Him if we get it right or get it wrong, trust Him or doubt Him. He is Almighty God, and it seems a little blasphemous to suggest I can make Him feel something, because it makes God seem weak. But is it really weakness to be affected by others? Yes, God doesn't change, but that doesn't mean He doesn't feel.
Even after being a Christian all my life, my perception of God is still a little stoic. God is more like a statue in my mind than a Father who runs to meet His long-lost son with longing, and rejoicing, or a Friend who reaches out His hand when I'm sinking, and is offended by my panic when I find myself tossed around by the wind and waves of life.
How I respond to life matters to Him, and maybe not in the way I think it does - maybe not to be graded as if I was in school - but maybe it matters to Him because he cares, and because He cares, He feels.
The NLT says, "31 Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him. “You have so little faith,” Jesus said.“Why did you doubt me?”
The NIV says, 31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said,“why did you doubt?”
When I read the bible I always imagine myself in the story, as if Jesus is speaking to me directly, and to be honest, the NIV version of this verse makes me feel like a worm! I hear condemnation, and feel failure for my lack of ability to do as Jesus does - in this case, walk on the water.
When I read the same verse in the NLT, its no longer all about me, it makes me suddenly aware of the effect Peter's fear had on Jesus. The NLT Jesus seems to take Peter's lack of faith very personally: 'Why did you doubt me?' Jesus seems offended, even hurt, that Peter could entertain the idea that Jesus would let him drown. The verse is no longer about me, its about Him.
Faith is personal. Not just to me, but to Jesus too.
It got me thinking. Do I live like Jesus is affected by my faith or lack thereof? I'm so self-absorbed that I rarely stop to think how my thoughts are affecting my Maker. Is He hurt when I act like I'm not sure of His love for me or those around me?
I totally forget how I can make God glad or sad. For some reason, its hard to shift the belief that because God doesn't change, and He knows the outcome already, it doesn't affect Him if we get it right or get it wrong, trust Him or doubt Him. He is Almighty God, and it seems a little blasphemous to suggest I can make Him feel something, because it makes God seem weak. But is it really weakness to be affected by others? Yes, God doesn't change, but that doesn't mean He doesn't feel.
Even after being a Christian all my life, my perception of God is still a little stoic. God is more like a statue in my mind than a Father who runs to meet His long-lost son with longing, and rejoicing, or a Friend who reaches out His hand when I'm sinking, and is offended by my panic when I find myself tossed around by the wind and waves of life.
How I respond to life matters to Him, and maybe not in the way I think it does - maybe not to be graded as if I was in school - but maybe it matters to Him because he cares, and because He cares, He feels.
Wednesday, 22 February 2012
What Matters?
This is just a quick post as I grab some middle-of-the-night cereal after one of baby Amber's night feeds. She has just gone back to sleep inside my dressing gown as I type!
Amber is now 10 days old, and the sleepless nights together with the accumulating mess in the house has begun to get to me. Today I could feel depression knocking at my door, so I told my husband, Matt, who suggested I listen to a good preach to redirect my focus. During this evening's feed I turned on the telly to browse the many 'religious' channels we have access to. I tuned into a Joni programme, and was instantly grabbed by its relevance.
The programme was about suffering, and in particular, one couple's response to suffering as their child was born with an incurable genetic disorder which meant she only had a few months to live. It was heart-breaking. They celebrated and cherished each day they had with their precious baby girl, and gave her up into the Lord's hands when her brief time on earth was up. The couple responded to their circumstances with gratitude and humility, and have been an inspiration and encouragement to many through it all.
Hearing their story made me take stock of what really matters in life. What does God care about in my current circumstances? Is God bothered that you can't see an inch of our carpet for toys, or that you can't eat at the kitchen table without first having to clear a space in the clutter for your plate?
When my girls grow up, are they going to benefit from a tidy house, or a mother who loved them unconditionally? Are they going to see God at work in this family because the washing got done or because I modelled dependence on my loving Heavenly Father who promises to meet all my needs?
The family who lost their little girl made me realise I'm missing out on so much by looking at stuff that really doesn't matter at all.
Amber is now 10 days old, and the sleepless nights together with the accumulating mess in the house has begun to get to me. Today I could feel depression knocking at my door, so I told my husband, Matt, who suggested I listen to a good preach to redirect my focus. During this evening's feed I turned on the telly to browse the many 'religious' channels we have access to. I tuned into a Joni programme, and was instantly grabbed by its relevance.
The programme was about suffering, and in particular, one couple's response to suffering as their child was born with an incurable genetic disorder which meant she only had a few months to live. It was heart-breaking. They celebrated and cherished each day they had with their precious baby girl, and gave her up into the Lord's hands when her brief time on earth was up. The couple responded to their circumstances with gratitude and humility, and have been an inspiration and encouragement to many through it all.
Hearing their story made me take stock of what really matters in life. What does God care about in my current circumstances? Is God bothered that you can't see an inch of our carpet for toys, or that you can't eat at the kitchen table without first having to clear a space in the clutter for your plate?
When my girls grow up, are they going to benefit from a tidy house, or a mother who loved them unconditionally? Are they going to see God at work in this family because the washing got done or because I modelled dependence on my loving Heavenly Father who promises to meet all my needs?
The family who lost their little girl made me realise I'm missing out on so much by looking at stuff that really doesn't matter at all.
Thursday, 9 February 2012
No Shadow of Turning
I was listening to a CD while making dinner yesterday, not particularly paying attention to the music, when without me realising it, the words of the song started to make the drop from my head to my heart.
The song went like this:
My darkness is not dark for you
My night shines as day
When I lose my way there is no shadow of turning, no shadow of turning
If I go astray you show no shadow of turning, no shadow of turning
When I feel ashamed there is no shadow of turning, no shadow of turning
No Shadow of Turning. Kathryn Marquis.
'No shadow of turning' struck me in a new way. The words come from a verse taken from the book of James in the Bible:
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.
It struck me that God is so consistent that He doesn't turn away from us in disappointment or disgust when we mess up or let Him down, or follow our own agenda.
He's always facing us.
Somehow in my heart I had been believing that God sometimes turns His face away from us. Doesn't it feel like that when nothing is going right? When disaster strikes, and we can't see God's intervention, doesn't it feel like God has turned away?
Conversely when we're feeling blessed and things are going great, don't we feel like we've got God's full attention?
The Bible is full of verses that tell us that God doesn't save us from trouble, but He's with us in trouble - "The righteous face many troubles but the Lord delivers them from them all". Psalm 34:19. And yet, the hard times are still painful.
I guess it must be me who finds it hard to look God in the eye when I'm struggling, not the other way around as I had thought. Growing up in a culture that idolises success will do that to you. Its hard to receive unconditional love when you don't feel you've done anything to deserve it. Its hard to lift your eyes when you feel lost or afraid, ashamed or frustrated because meeting His gaze will break you. Undo you. Reduce you to your knees in gratitude. It'll make us stop the striving, stop desperately trying to hold it together.
No Shadow of Turning. I'm going to try to remember that.
The song went like this:
My darkness is not dark for you
My night shines as day
When I lose my way there is no shadow of turning, no shadow of turning
If I go astray you show no shadow of turning, no shadow of turning
When I feel ashamed there is no shadow of turning, no shadow of turning
No Shadow of Turning. Kathryn Marquis.
'No shadow of turning' struck me in a new way. The words come from a verse taken from the book of James in the Bible:
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.
It struck me that God is so consistent that He doesn't turn away from us in disappointment or disgust when we mess up or let Him down, or follow our own agenda.
He's always facing us.
Somehow in my heart I had been believing that God sometimes turns His face away from us. Doesn't it feel like that when nothing is going right? When disaster strikes, and we can't see God's intervention, doesn't it feel like God has turned away?
Conversely when we're feeling blessed and things are going great, don't we feel like we've got God's full attention?
The Bible is full of verses that tell us that God doesn't save us from trouble, but He's with us in trouble - "The righteous face many troubles but the Lord delivers them from them all". Psalm 34:19. And yet, the hard times are still painful.
I guess it must be me who finds it hard to look God in the eye when I'm struggling, not the other way around as I had thought. Growing up in a culture that idolises success will do that to you. Its hard to receive unconditional love when you don't feel you've done anything to deserve it. Its hard to lift your eyes when you feel lost or afraid, ashamed or frustrated because meeting His gaze will break you. Undo you. Reduce you to your knees in gratitude. It'll make us stop the striving, stop desperately trying to hold it together.
No Shadow of Turning. I'm going to try to remember that.
Saturday, 28 January 2012
No (wo)man is an island...
Ever read a passage in the Bible that you’ve read a hundred times before, but this time it’s different? This passage took on a new depth of meaning for me this week:
7’ But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. 8 What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord…’
The passage is from Philippians 3 and is familiar to most Christians, made popular by the worship song ‘All I Once Held Dear’ that many of us have sung in church. It’s a passage written by Paul, describing how the things he once took pride in now fade away in comparison to knowing Jesus.
When everything is going well for us, the song is a celebratory song, but it’s a lot harder to say the words and mean them when you feel like life is around your ankles! Its not until you feel the loss of ‘all I once held dear’ that you can say with certainty that Jesus surpasses it all.
Let me explain: its common knowledge that I am expecting our third child any day now, and this pregnancy has been a difficult one. I am unable to move round very much due to the pain caused by pelvic instability, and at this late stage in the pregnancy I’m finding the smallest activity to be draining. The pelvic trouble started about 18 weeks ago and has been getting gradually worse as the baby grows. That’s 18 weeks of slowly reducing participation in taking the girls to their groups, seeing friends, being able to do basic domestic chores, going shopping, or even getting a decent stretch of sleep.
I’m the kind of person who needs to be active, to have a project on the go, to be out and about. I like to feel productive. These past few months have been a killer. My self-esteem has plummeted. I feel like a haven’t achieved anything for a long time, and its been driving me crazy. As Joy French recently wrote about in her inspiring blog post, my ‘alphawhoever’ has taken a serious hit.
The symptoms that give away what I hold dear have surprised me a bit - I’ve started to crave the acceptance of others to convince myself I’m still ok, that I haven’t faded from everyone’s memory, that I still have something to offer. Reading of other people’s successes on facebook is encouraging and crushing at the same time. I feel so out of the race.
Reading Philippians 3 made me admit that if I’m really honest, when I’m in the place where everything is stripped away, no, just knowing Jesus is not enough. Knowing Jesus is priceless, but I have found I need an awful lot of add-ons to keep me going too!
When I have no personal achievements to feel good about or earn praise from its clear that my relationship with Jesus alone is not enough to sustain me through the dry times. The person of Jesus should be so amazing, so captivating, so challenging that all the other ‘stuff’ we’re proud of becomes insignificant. It has become apparent that all the other stuff is actually very important to me!
So what to do about it? I guess it comes down to putting to death the old self, repenting and fixing my eyes on the only One who can truly satisfy – and then receive what He has to say about my condition. Simple, eh?
But when I’m stuck at home looking after my newborn and my pre-schooler, its not going to be so easy to keep my eyes fixed on the Perfector of my faith. Its almost impossible for me to stop my eyes turning inward and gazing at my own inadequacies and frustrations when I spend too much time on my own.
That’s when I'm going to need community. That’s why we need ‘the sisterhood’ (from a recent post by Jo Saxton). That’s why we need to be honest about how we’re doing and drop the ‘superwoman’ act (from Joy’s post). That’s why we need to be looking for ways to encourage each other and stop burying our heads in cyberspace (see Anna Robinson’s latest blog post).
You’ve heard the saying – ‘No man is an island’, and the Biblical version of that is, ‘Its not good for man to be alone’. I would suggest the same holds true for women too! When I am going crazy at home, instead of spiralling, I could call a friend, ask for help, or just have a laugh. It all helps.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)