Category: Life

A Quick Update (and a Detour?)

I miss writing.

Time, vision, focus, and motivation have all been in short supply in the past several years. Life has been full of fast balls, curve balls…and I don’t know any more kinds of pitches, but it feels like we’ve experienced most of them! Writing has been a way that I can “hit the ball” thrown at me, and put it in its proper place. I can think about the circumstance, the challenge, the struggle. I can observe it, ask myself what effect it is having on me, hold it up against the truth of Scripture, and speak Truth to myself as I encounter it — whatever “it” may be.

Writing through challenges has been helpful for me, and I hope helpful for whoever reads what I write, as I have always tried to bring hard things back to the hope-giving promises of God. These past years, I have still been here encountering and observing and clinging to His promises. But I have not given myself the space or permission to write.

Writing is a way for me to process my life. But life circumstances and personal choices have gotten in the way of allowing myself the time and space and platform to write. I have largely stepped away from social media, which has been overall a positive decision. But it comes with some downfalls, one of which being that I can’t utilize my social media space to write as I have in the past.

Furthermore, I’m not comfortable broadcasting the deeper struggles of my children, of my family, and of my own heart because I feel the responsibility to walk a line of vulnerability while still protecting the privacy of those I love. These are the things I long to write about because they are the things I need to process. But I am not willing because I feel I have neither the right nor the freedom to do so. So, I don’t write.

But I miss writing.

Where does that leave me?

I’ve decided to use my blog space as a place to write. But for now, I am going to write about more superficial things. I thought it would be fun to focus on some insights that we have learned over the years of traveling as a family. From time to time, I have had questions about certain activities and have not always been able to find the specific answers I was looking for via google (whether it be on TripAdvisor, Reddit, or local forums). So, my plan is to share some tips about those situations so that I can satisfy my desire to write while also hopefully adding some value to the internet.

Hopefully my words may be useful to someone who may be searching for those answers. But also, I hope it will be helpful to me. I want to write, so I am going to make space and time to write. Not necessarily to process deep things, but to give myself an outlet and a space to use my voice. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

walking with a limp

I am officially “old”. I know this because yesterday, when I was getting out of my van, I somehow pulled a muscle in (around? near?) my hip. Yes, really. I am now hurting-yourself-while-getting-out-of-a-vehicle years old. Insert eyeroll here.

So now, my hip is sore. And I’ve been walking with a slight limp for the past day and a half. My brain is still trying to catch up with what I may have done to cause this while doing a perfectly normal activity of daily living. It’s a bit mind-boggling to me. But, it is what it is, and I will just be limping until it heals or until I decide to go to the doctor.

But truthfully, this couldn’t have been a more perfect real-life illustration of something I heard later in the day yesterday. I love to listen to podcasts while I fold laundry. And since I often have buckets and buckets of laundry, I often am listening to podcasts. I’d love to share some of my favorites with you, but maybe that’s a topic for another post.

Yesterday, I was listening to this excellent episode of The Glass House with Ben and Lynley Mandrell, talking with some friends about adoption and special needs in “the glass house.” The Glass House is a term they use for living life in pastoral ministry. And this episode is one that I actually personally requested over a year ago. In the intro, they mention how it is an often requested topic, and I am SO glad they have finally delivered on this. I have been hoping and praying they would address this facet of life in the glass house, and it was so worth the wait. The episode truly knocks it out of the park, and I urge you to give it a listen. It is descriptive and insightful while being helpful, validating, and inspiring.

There were many, many sound bites I could quote from this episode. But a statement that guest Lange Patrick made about “walking with a limp” profoundly struck me. As an adoptive parent, he has had to make adjustments to his own life and ministry in ways that he maybe would not have had to adapt if he were not parenting special needs and adopted children. We know this from our own lives as adoptive parents. Life just looks different than we expected or imagined. But Lange’s summative statement about this was simply that, “I will just always walk with a limp.” And it clicked for me.

He did not make this statement about limping (or disability in general) being a bad thing. I believe it is just recognizing that things are different and living within that difference. Things can be good and hard all at the same time. And to this I say, “YES!” This is what I needed to hear yesterday. And today. And tomorrow.

I am not a stranger to disability. I have a hearing impairment that has left me deaf in one ear. It’s something I am used to now, and I just live life with one hearing ear. Sure, it has its disadvantages (masks, anyone?). But I have learned to adapt.

Still, I have not, until now, really embraced the thought that the trauma and special needs and mental illnesses and disabilities of my children are also my disabilities, and I will bear the marks of those in my own life for the rest of my life. I will walk through life, yes. But I will walk with a limp.

I know that embracing the truth of what is will allow me to cling to Jesus as I persevere. The hard things will be there. When I’m tempted to be discouraged that I can’t be used by God because my life looks different than other “more productive” disciples, I need to speak truth to myself. God can use the parts of me that I find discouraging. And he can still use me. He will uphold and empower me to accomplish His purposes.

I think of Derek Redmond’s 1992 Olympic finish in the 400-meter semi-final in Barcelona. Redmond sprains his ankle just shy of 200 meters, and limps to the finish line. But he doesn’t do it alone. While Redmond is clearly in pain, at about 300 meters, his father comes down from the stands and supports him as he all but collapses in agony onto his father’s shoulder. They walk together, Redmond still limping, to finish the race. You can watch this emotional moment in less than three minutes here. You won’t regret it.

This is how life goes sometimes, is it not? At times, the suffering may be so profound that we feel in our core that there is no way we can finish the race without the Father holding us up. We need Him to bear us up on wings like eagles. To run and not be weary. To walk and not faint. But not only emotionally and spiritually. We need our community who comes around us to be His hands and feet in these times. Our people who walk beside us in the trenches, who come out of the spectator’s stands and get in the game with us. Church, we desperately need you! We need each other.

Second, I think of the New Heavens and New Earth where Revelation 21 promises us that we will be healed both spiritually and physically. There will be no more pain. There will be no more limp in my step. My children who trust in Jesus will be with me in the presence of the King, healed and happy. They will have no more trauma, no more special needs, no more mental illness, no more disability. We will together rejoice fully in God’s resplendent glory and power, and will be whole. Forever.

So while I may be (quite literally today) walking with a limp, I am still on this journey set before me. With God’s strength and the aid of His people the Church, I will persevere even when it is painful. And we will all press on to our heavenly healing with hope.

a pandemic advent – peace

I told my friends last week that all I want for Christmas is peace in my house. It was kind of a joke, but it was mostly true. I’m late in writing my advent post this week. That’s mostly because I feel unqualified to write on this week’s topic—peace.

I heard the bells on Christmas day. Their old familiar carols play. And mild and sweet their songs repeat. Of peace on earth good will to men. And in despair, I bowed my head. “There is no peace on earth,” I said.

To be very transparent, my home has felt pretty much everything but peaceful this week. My kids’ trauma histories and mental health challenges are threatening to take over. And anyone who has children from hard places can tell you that the holidays bring. it. all. out. It’s all out, guys. And the peace seems to be walking out the door with it.

This is the time of year that adoptive parents love and dread. Of course we love Christmas! It is simply the most wonderful time of the year! But all of the excitement around the season heightens anxieties for the little ones we love.

Grief over broken relationships looms strong. The longing for first families pulls at their hearts in a way I will never know. And this is what I dread. I wish it weren’t so. It can be so hard as a parent to calm their anxious and grieving hearts and to bring peace to their precious souls.

I think we all are feeling a little bit of this. Of course, everyone’s life and circumstance is different. But I think it’s safe to say that this year, perhaps more than in the past, we all long for a little whole lot more peace here on earth.

This pandemic has stirred up discord, and I do not have time to list all the ways we have “no peace.” But that’s what makes this week’s reminder so glorious.

Then rang the bells more loud and deep. God is not dead, nor doth he sleep! The wrong shall fail, the Right prevail, with peace on earth, good-will to men.*

Praise the Lord, God brings peace for our weary and broken souls! He promises peace for those who fix their eyes on Him.

You keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on you
because he trusts in you.
Trust in the LORD forever,
for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock.

-Isaiah 26:3-4

This season, we can remember that God is working. He is in control. He is everlasting. He will keep us in His perfect peace.

And we can remember, especially during this advent season, that God loved us so deeply that he sent his son Jesus to rule and reign in our hearts and in the Kingdom to come.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

-Isaiah 9:6

May we remember that God has promised to bring peace to our souls. Friend, cling tightly to this promise! May He keep us all in his peace, overflowing to our lives and homes-—even when our homes seem chaotic and unruly. God is bigger than the unrest of our human hearts.

Share the promise with your children, and pray that it may bring rest for the tumultuous waters of their hearts, too! And may we look forward with anticipation to the everlasting peace we will enjoy forever when Jesus rules as the Prince of Peace.

*For the rest of this great, Christmas-time hymn from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and a timely history of its context, read this from Justin Taylor.

a pandemic advent

In our family, we recognize and observe the Advent season — the days leading up to Christmas Day. As we decorate our house and put up the lights, I count it all as part of the Advent season. It is a beautiful season of preparation, cultivating a delight in the true Light of the world.

Advent is a time of waiting as we look forward to celebrating the coming of the Christ child. God incarnate. Savior, born to us.

From the Latin, advent literally means “coming”. As Christians, we know that there are actually two “comings” of Christ — two advents, if you will. During the Christmas Advent season, we can celebrate both.

The first advent was when Christ came as a baby. That’s what we celebrate at Christmas! The second advent is when Christ returns to rule and reign in the new heavens and new earth. This hasn’t happened yet. But we certainly look forward to the glorious day!

So Advent season is a time when we look back and remember with gratitude and awe that …

“… unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

Luke 2:11

And, …

… being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

Philippians 2:8

It is also a time when we look forward with anticipation to the day when we can say with the heavenly host:

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready;

Revelation 19:7

And, as prophesied, …

… the LORD will be king over all the earth. On that day the LORD will be one and his name one.

Zechariah 14:9

How amazing!

Well this year, advent comes with a new and different weight than we are used to. We are all — Christian and unbeliever alike — looking back and looking forward. We are longing for the days that were, before the world changed. And we are looking forward to the day that we can return to “normal.” What a blessed opportunity we have as Christians to celebrate advent and share it with those around us. We can focus on the One who truly is able fulfill all of our longings.

Traditionally, the four weeks of advent walk through four ideas. They differ depending on who you ask. But as we walk through this season in the midst of a pandemic, I want to focus on how these ideas can help us parent our children with a gospel focus. We can point our eyes, and our children’s eyes, toward Hope, Joy, Peace, and Love — all of these coming from, and fulfilled in, Christ.

May this season be refreshing for us all as we try, by God’s grace, to focus on what is eternal rather than what is temporal. Because we all know that this year, the temporal is vying for our attention like never before. May this season be hopeful, joyful, peaceful, and running over with love.

yesterday’s faithfulness; tomorrow’s promises

I’m trying to get more exercise. My body and my mind need it. But my body and my mind also really love to sleep. And I have a new soft, warm, fluffy comforter. It’s magical. The struggle is real.

This morning, I finally succeeded at prying myself out of bed at an hour early enough to allow time for me to drink my coffee, spend time in the Word (and read my current devotional book), and plod downstairs to the treadmill.

The treadmill had cobwebs on it.

Yikes. It’s been a while. Kind of like my blog.

Well, this morning, I swept the cobwebs off the treadmill, and got going. And now I will wipe the cobwebs off my blog and get going. Often, it’s easier for me to think about writing, and even get excited about my intentions to write. But I hit the proverbial “snooze” button instead. Just like with excercise, I just need to take the first step. I need to pry myself from the comfort of my thoughts and let my feet hit the floor.

Or let my fingers hit the keys. I think you get it.

Well, when I exercise, I like to listen to either a podcast or an audiobook. I like to engage my mind while I engage my body. Sometimes I like fluffy stuff with little concentration required. Other times I like heavy stuff where I really need to work at it. Today I chose a podcast including a message from a Gospel Coalition message on corporate prayer. It was a good mix of funny, (fluffy) and thoughtful (heavy).

I was struck by the reminder, about one-third of the way through John Owunchekwa’s message, that “because God doesn’t change, His past faithfulness is really a future promise.” God has been faithful. God is faithful. God will be faithful.

This immediately drew me to recall some Scripture that I meditate on often. I know I’ve even talked about it on my blog before. You can probably tell it’s a pillar in my mind and heart. I will risk beating the same drum again. Lamentations 3:

Remember my affliction and my wanderings,
the wormwood and the gall!
My soul continually remembers it
and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

Lamentations 3:19-24

We remember what God has brought us through. We remember His character. And we can see His faithfulness to provide His portion for us in the future. Praise God!

Prayer helps us in thinking through this. It allows us to recall God’s faithfulness. And when we ask in faith, we can trust His promises to be faithful in answering. We can hope in Him.

This year has been doozy. For kids with trauma–specifically in our context, adoption trauma–2020 has brought with it added layers. But just as for us, God has been faithful to our children. He cares for our children. We can have hope in His steadfast love and His faithfulness.

God’s provision and gentle faithfulness to our precious kids in their yesterdays stands as a promise for His faithfulness to them in their tomorrows. Weary parent, as you shepherd your little flock of hurting and anxious sheep, hope in Him! Great is His faithfulness!

If you would like to interact a bit, I would be edified to hear in the comments some ways in which God has been faithful to you in this season of all that “2020” encompasses to you. Praying for you all, friends.

ten

February 28, 2020 marked ten years of life without my mom. At the age of 26, I lost my mom to ovarian cancer. I had a premature baby boy who was three months old at the time, but we had not yet even reached his due date (March 15). On that particular February 28 — 2010 — my son slept in his NICU bassinet in a hospital across town, while I sat by my mom’s side as she left this world.

Life has not been the same since.

But, the same God that sustained me through those days sustains me still today. His steadfast love reaches to the heavens, and His faithfulness to the clouds (Psalm 36:5). Those days were so long. So full of uncertainty. So packed with driving from one hospital to the other. Yet, the thing I remember most from those days is God’s abounding love and care for me and His peace reigning deep in my heart. He truly poured out His grace and mercy in that time to meet every need of my heart.

Psalm 36:7-9
How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

This year, as February dwindled on, and I waited for the 28th to come for now the tenth time since she’s been gone, God gave me peace anew. He gave me refuge in His strong and tender wings. In His lovingkindness, He allowed most of the often-gray February days to be full of unexpected sunshine instead. What a gift! He provided encouragement from friends and in His word. He provided patience. He provided peace.

Life has not been the same since she died. But God has been the same and has proven Himself faithful and steadfast in all things. The well of His mercy will never run dry.

Psalm 36:8-9
They feast on the abundance of your house,
and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light do we see light.

My prayer as I move forward to the next decade of life without my mom here, as I continue to learn how to live this “normal” that is neither new, nor familiar, is that I will drink ever more deeply from the river of His delights. That I will know more and more each day that my loving, faithful, sheltering, redeeming God is the source of life and peace.

To God be the glory.

Social Media and What It Has to Do With Anything: A Reflection

I recently took a month-long break from all social media. Well, it was 26 days to be exact. This was the the longest I’ve “fasted” from social media in over ten years. Basically since I first owned a smartphone.

I had begun to realize, more and more over the course of the past year, how the constant barrage of information, news, and other peoples’ personal lives was affecting me. I began to notice an association between my social media usage and my distractibility and attention deficit. I began to notice the effect it seemed to have on my mood and how I interacted in my “real life” interpersonal relationships. I didn’t like what I was seeing, but was finding it hard to figure out how to proceed.

Should I quit cold turkey and just never use it again? But it does have a benefit, right? Could I figure out a way to use it that maximizes its benefit, without the annoying negative effects? Is there even a benefit? What really are the benefits? What in particular are the annoying negative effects and how can I prevent them? So many questions.

So, I developed a plan. I decided the day before Election Day that I would give it up for the rest of the month–until December 1. I determined to take the rest of the month of November to see what I could learn about how my priorities, my productivity, my general attitude, and my social media usage interact. Like a little experiment of sorts. The rule was simple. No checking social media. For any reason. At all. For me, that really just means Facebook, because I am not on Twitter, Instagram, or any of the other sites. So there you have it. No Facebook for the rest of the month.

Today is December 4. I’m happy to say that I accomplished my goal. I did not check Facebook for the whole remainder of November.

I learned a lot. And as I add social media back into my life, I hope to be responsible and intentional, counting the cost of when and how I choose to use this tool. Because it is a tool. I want to use it the right way, not letting it have a higher place or priority than it deserves.

So, in a practical sense, here’s “how it went” for me:

I was insanely productive.

My house was cleaner. My meals were better-planned. My freezer was more fully stocked. I baked. I listened to podcasts. I read books. My homeschool was more focused. I honestly felt like I hadn’t been that productive since before we had kids. When I’m not on Facebook, I can use my time to do (LOTS of) other things. What other things might be more valuable to do with my time?

I had better focus.

This is likely one reason that I was so much more productive than usual. I was more present, because I was not distracted. I mean this in the obvious sense of not being distracted by scrolling through my news feed. But also in the less obvious sense of not being distracted by thinking about all of the issues that bombard me when I am on social media.

Facebook presents us with so much information. I often find myself thinking about someone else’s problem and trying to solve it. Or internally getting upset about an argument I saw other people having on a comment thread. This distraction is less visible, but, at least to me, much more damaging to my ability to focus. What is my consumption limit, and how do I make sure I do not cross it?

I was less irritable.

When there were less opportunities to be interrupted, there were less interruptions. Funny how that works. When I put my attention where it should be, there is so much less to be frustrated about. Priorities!!

I missed some things.

Actually I missed a lot of things. I realized more and more each day that I have been getting most of my news from Facebook. For better or worse, it’s a fact. I don’t listen to the radio in the car; I don’t watch the news on TV; I don’t check news sites; I don’t get the newspaper. So truly, if I don’t see it on Facebook or someone doesn’t specifically tell me, I don’t know it.

I found myself struggling with a little bit of FOMO. This only really happened when I found out some bit of news after the fact. I felt like I had missed out on knowing it sooner. So I guess it was more RTIMO (Regret That I Missed Out). This happened quite a few times. Quite a bit happened nationally in November, and I didn’t necessarily enjoy the feeling of ignorance that came over me when someone mentioned a national tragedy or natural disaster that I was unaware of.

But I did eventually find out. And really, the gap was only about a week, at most. So, going forward, I need to decide what level of discomfort I am comfortable with. When it comes to news, what do I really need to know? And when do I really need to know it?

I lost some opportunities.

What I found most difficult was the more immediate and local news and needs that I missed out on. Prayer requests. Needs shared in groups of friends that I could not help meet because I didn’t know about them. I found out about these all on December 1 when I logged in. Things had happened in the lives of my friends, and I didn’t help, because I didn’t know. This was hard to swallow.

I really want to find the balance. I want to be able to support those that I care about in ways that they need. But I also don’t want to waste my time and brain space with the other stuff–the memes; the complaining; the arguing; the fake news; and even the real news that I really just don’t need to consume. How can I avoid overwhelming consumption of social media, but still be able to serve and help meet the needs of those around me?

I meditated on Scripture.

This leads me to the verse that has been rattling around in my head for the past month. This sums up the results of my experiment pretty concisely.

1 Corinthians 10:31
So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.

Going forward, that is the lens I want to run things through. Does this particular (whatever it may be) usage of social media bring glory to God? If my actions are not done in a spirit of bringing glory to God, then in what spirit are they done? Are they self-serving? Are they feeding my flesh? Are they causing quarrels? Are they spreading false information? Are they causing my brothers and sisters to stumble? Scripture is clear. I should do all to the glory of God. This includes what I read, do, and say on social media.

I am so encouraged that God’s Word is living and active and speaks to the issues of our hearts always. Here’s where I can find the balance! I can ask God for wisdom and eyes to filter my social media usage through the lens of whether or not my purpose is for the glory of God. Honoring Him; serving others in His name; lifting others up in prayer; bringing hope to those around me with the good news of the gospel.

I hope my little social experiment and some of its findings have encouraged you. Perhaps you would like to do something similar, to find out for yourself how these things affect you. My prayer, as I move forward in using this tool to work for me (not the other way around!), is that we would not just blindly do what we do “just because,” but that we would all be intentional about how and why we do it. And that it would be, “all to the glory of God.”

On Puzzles and Images

Our kids can seem like little puzzles. There is always something to discover about them, adding pieces to the puzzle of who they are and who they may become. Sometimes, as an adoptive parent, I feel like I’m working on my puzzle without knowing what image I am aiming for. You know what I mean, right? The “answer key” of the puzzle–the picture that shows what you get when you’re all done.

It’s so nice when you have the puzzle box right there in front of you, and you prop it up on the side of the table while you work on your puzzle so you know what image you’re working towards. That is a helpful thing to have, that box.

But what if all we have is a bunch of pieces?

That complicates things a little. Ok…a lot.

We think we have all of the pieces. But can we be sure? We see lots of colors, perhaps some lines and squiggles, and maybe even get a few clues of what we think the picture will turn out to be. But truly all we can do is make a best guess. We have no image to look at, so we just take it piece by piece and try to do the best we can to figure it out as we go.

I often feel like I am working with a pile of pieces, trying to “figure my kids out.” Like I need to put the pieces together to find some answers. This is true of all of my kids, biological or not. But particularly as an adoptive parent, I struggle here. Not having all of the pieces of a child’s past–what they may be biologically predisposed to; how their brain was formed prenatally; what their life was like before they came to us; possible genetic personality traits–really tempts me to try to figure it all out on my own. But truly, when I try to figure it out on my own, not knowing what I am looking for or aiming at, I find myself with less answers and more questions. It’s these times that I need the reminder that I am looking at it all wrong.

The thing is, it doesn’t really matter what we start with. In terms of our “puzzle,” whether we start with all of the pieces in the box, complete with a picture on it, or whether we have a pile of pieces whose composition is a mystery, we are all working toward the same goal. It’s not what we start with or even what we have to work with; it’s what we are striving toward.

I need to remember to look up from the puzzle–the toil of cracking “the code” that is my children. Take my eyes off of all of the little things in the muddle of mothering these little ones that God has so graciously brought to me. Even the really challenging parts that make my head spin. Yes it is hard, but it is not impossible. When tempted to despair over not being able to figure out the puzzle, I need to fight to take my eyes off of the struggle. Look to Jesus.

Look. To. Jesus.

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.     (Colossians 1:15-20)

In Him all things hold together. In everything, He is preeminent. What an image to behold!

This is such good news for us as parents. We can take our eyes off of the puzzling nature of what we have before us, stop looking inward for the ability to figure it all out, and look instead to the Creator God who made our children, our precious blessings. Our children are not a puzzle to God. Where we may see a lot of pieces, He sees the big picture. He knows every piece and part of them, and we can rest in Him to provide us with His sustaining grace and wisdom in parenting His created ones.

When we remember that He is the one who holds all things together; that all things were created through Him and for Him; when we keep our eyes fixed on the Lord with an eternal perspective, we are looking in the right direction. He is the image we must look toward. We need not figure it out on our own. The Lord will give us what we need to complete our puzzle, to parent our children for His glory.

“He [Jesus] is like the missing piece in a puzzle — the piece that makes all the other pieces fit together, and suddenly you can see a beautiful picture.” – Sally Lloyd-Jones in The Jesus Storybook Bible

Before & After

Not surprisingly, it’s been a while since my last post. What can I say? Life got in the way. And this post will be off-topic of the main purpose of my blog. It’s not about adoption or mom-ing in “the muddle.” But I felt compelled to process through some emotions, and this seems like a good place to do it. So you are along for the ride.

It goes without saying that yesterday was a significant day of remembrance in our country and our world. Except it apparently did need to go “with saying” for me. I guess I blocked it out of my memory or something, because I made it until the opening prayer at my son’s cross country meet at 4:15pm before I really noticed. “Let’s have a moment of silence for September 11, 2001.” Yes. Let’s…

I felt like such an insensitive and self-centered dummy that I made it through my entire day–wake up, quiet time, morning routine, CC Community Day, resting time, and cross country meet prep–without a second thought to what day it was. Of course I knew the date. It rang in my head. “Oh, it’s 9/11.” But I confess that I quickly brushed it off. No time to feel right now; maybe later. A privilege that thousands of people do not have on this day or any other day for that matter. Thousands of lives and a previous way of life that is lost forever. Forgive me for my callousness.

But today, I am feeling.

Grief is a weird animal. And though I don’t have any specific people to grieve on this day, I do still grieve this day. I grieve all of it. As I’m sure you do. Every year, it presents itself differently. This year, I apparently tried to stuff it. But we all know that never works.

Today, it is hitting me.

My eight year old asked me this morning what the date was yesterday. He wanted to write it on his race bib as a memento. “September 11,” I said, realizing again that it really was “that day” yesterday. “Oh wow! Like September 11, 2001…” He said slowly. He knows. He knows the significance of the date. He knows because we have taught him. Yet, he doesn’t experience it the way we do–those of us who lived through it. The weight of it hit me, and as he scurried off to record the date as planned, I stood at the sink and remembered. I couldn’t stop remembering, and I didn’t want to stop remembering. I never want to stop remembering.

I want to remember what happened. Where I was. How I felt. I wish I could know and remember every name. It was a horrible day that changed so much of life as we all knew it. It was unthinkable. But now, the effects of that day have become a part of every day life, and we perhaps think about it daily without really even acknowledging it. The post-9/11 life is “normal” life now.

But I also want to remember what it was like before. In thinking this morning, I was taken aback that it has been 17 years since the attack. I was 17 on the day of the attack. So, this year marks the point where the “after” has been as long as it was “before.”

A friend of mine reflected today that our generation has a unique way of thinking of the span of our lives as “before 9/11” and “after 9/11.” We were old enough then to remember very clearly what life was like “before.”  And we vividly remember the day. But our entire adult lives have been in the “after.” From here on out, I will know the majority of my life as “after,” which is a weird feeling. I think it feels so weird because I still remember the “before.” My children, who have only ever known life as it is now–with 9/11 as a historical event that they can only read about–don’t have this as a defining event in their world in the same way that it is a defining event for the rest of us.

So much has happened in life since September 11, 2001. But on days like yesterday and today, it seems like it just happened. I know we all have our own experiences of where we were and what we were doing. And the emotions of that day are almost palpable. As I work through the emotions of today and continue to process, I think back to the uncertainty and fear we all felt on that day. And I thank God for being the true Solid Rock on which we stand. He is unchanging and unshakable. I think of Psalm 91 and the hope that it gives.

As you read, I pray that these will be words of Life to you. That they will bring comfort to your grieving and remembering. And hope to your future, which may be uncertain to you but is secure in the shelter of the Most High God. Yes, we must always remember. But may we hold fast to Him in love, and rest in His protective hand for all of our days to come.

Psalm 91
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”

For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.

A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only look with your eyes
and see the recompense of the wicked.

Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—
the Most High, who is my refuge—
no evil shall be allowed to befall you,
no plague come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up,
lest you strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread on the lion and the adder;
the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.

“Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;
I will protect him, because he knows my name.
When he calls to me, I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will rescue him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”

The Gospel of Grace

I had the wonderful privilege of being with some sisters in Christ this weekend at a church women’s retreat. I was so blessed by this opportunity to spend some extra-focused time in God’s word. I particularly appreciated the speaker’s reminder to all of us of the gospel. I always appreciate hearing the gospel. I never tire of it. I need it every day. Every hour, really. It is so easy and human to forget the significance of what Christ has done on the cross. But it is crucial and central! We must not forget, lest we be led astray to a Christ-less gospel. May it never be!

So I am going to repeat it. For my sake and for yours.

I want to dwell for a minute on Ephesians 2. A few years ago, our family memorized this as part of Desiring God’s “Fighter Verses” program. It was life to me then. And it is life to me now, each time I read it or remember it.

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

-Ephesians 2:1-10

I could go on and on. But I will stop there. This is so beautiful to me.

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works… 

Ephesians 2:8-9 (emphasis mine)

Christ’s sacrifice is it. It is the reason we can live a life of freedom from the “performance trap” lie which tells us that we can earn eternal salvation. Do you trust in this truth?

I think a lot of times this is where we may be mislead. Have you been taught that salvation is Jesus’s work plus something? Like doing a better job of __{fill in the blank}__?

Do you find yourself thinking, “I know Christ died on the cross for me, and the Bible says His work is sufficient to save, but there is no way I will get into heaven unless I go to church more. Or read the Bible more. Or am 100% of the time the perfect mom.” If you feel that there is anything you can do to earn your salvation, you are believing a lie.

If there were things that we could do to be saved, we would be able to boast in ourselves. “Look at how I have earned this!” And God would not get the glory in that. The verbs pertaining to God are active. He does the things! We do not do the things. He gets the glory for all that He does! HE makes us alive with Christ. HE raises us up with Him. HE shows the immeasurable riches of His grace to us. We have the things done to us. We are passive.

Don’t believe the lie that you can do more than God has already done. It is an impossible trap. You will not find freedom. God makes us alive by His grace. When we trust in anything other than His grace to save us, we trust in a lie. God’s work is sufficient to save us. The gospel of grace is that it is just Jesus. He has already done all that needed to be done. There is nothing more that we can add to or take away from his atoning work on the cross.

This is the picture Christ gives us in the Gospel of Matthew of the yoke (Matthew 11:30). His yoke is easy. If our yoke is the burden of earning and working constantly to secure something which could be taken away and lost and ruined at any moment, that is a heavy, terrible yoke. Christ’s yoke is trusting in His grace. He has already carried the burden. Salvation is secure in Him, and His yoke is freedom from the lie that it all depends on us.