God

A Different Kind of Beautiful

Blog_TiaraPearlThe other morning my son woke me up by holding my face in his chubby little hands and whispering in my ear, “Mommy, you’re beeeeyoutiful. You’re my most beeeeyoutiful Mommy.” I was ready to give him the world if he so desired, when he went on to say, “Your hair is messy. It needs a brush. And so do your teeth.” Three-year olds. They can be heavenly sweet and brutally honest, and it only makes you love them all the more.

As we enjoyed some precious cuddle-time, I vaguely wondered if his latter comments about my messy hair and other maladies negated his initial compliment. And that’s when I realized. Children operate on a whole different standard of beauty.

We grow up in a world saturated with impossibly-perfect super model standards. Photoshopped, of course. The media convinces us we’re less-than-worthy if we don’t measure up to its definition of beauty. We can’t even pass through the check-out lane without a barrage of images staring us down, telling us we’re not enough. And all this right next to the 700-calorie candy bar display.

Yet in the midst of it all, my son sees his haphazard-haired Mommy-without-make-up and says, “you’re beeeeyoutiful.” It’s not that he ignores my imperfections. Instead, he sees me in all my imperfect glory and knows that beyond it all is a heart full of love for him.

Maybe that’s why the Bible says we should all be more like children. Not childish, of course, but childlike. They see from a higher perspective than we who tower over them in stature. I believe they see from God’s perspective…God, who “does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

Photo Credit: Tiara | Flickr – Photo Sharing!

Our Help

Blog_HelpWe have a God who sympathizes with our every weakness and gives us power to change.

If we need help, all we have to do is ask.

Source: Where to Go When You Just Can’t Stop

Waiting to be Found

Blog_LostLast Sunday I went out to walk the dog and found a little boy wandering around the parking lot with no shoes on, no parents in sight. I asked him if he lived in our apartment building, and if I could help him find his parents, but he couldn’t speak clearly. It was early in the day and he looked so disoriented I decided to call 911. While he petted my dog and my kids entertained him with toys, we waited for the police to show up.

It turns out he’d been missing since 6am…almost four hours. His mother came to the door frantic, crying, overwhelmed. All I could do was hug her and let her know I understood. Losing a child for even a minute is every loving parent’s worst nightmare.

I can’t stop thinking of that morning, and how that child was wandering right where I was walking, just waiting to be found. Most days, I walk the dog much earlier, but I believe God’s sovereign hand led me to the right place at the right time for the sake of that lost child. I’m thankful that morning I asked God to open my eyes and order my steps.

Too often I rush through my agenda, too busy to notice those in need. Maybe, without God’s help, I would have hurried through the door, glanced at the little runny-nosed child, and returned to my comfortable routine, presuming his parent was nearby though unseen. But God intervened.

How many people do we encounter each day who are lost? Not in the physical sense, but in every way adrift. Spiritually, emotionally—searching. Waiting to be found.

Every day we pass them by, not looking beyond their smiles and into their eyes. They’re in pain, hurting, waiting for someone to intervene. But we’re too busy to notice.

Father God, slow us down! Open our eyes to see those who are waiting to be found. Order our steps, and let us be your hands, helping you to find them.

Photo Credit: Free stock photo: Fog, Mist, Road, Lost, Girl, Eerie – Free Image …

The Safest Place

Blog_LighthouseInStormWhen my husband and I lived in the inner city, friends and relatives rarely came to visit because they were afraid of getting shot. I would think, “What are you afraid of? We’ve lived here fourteen years and only been shot at five times.” Encountering random gunfire in the city is not a daily occurrence as most would presume, though I can understand that for most people one close-encounter is one too many.

Let me say upfront that the majority of those we met while living in the inner city were average people wanting to live peaceful, productive lives. As a matter of fact, most of them were beyond average people wanting to make a difference in their communities and in the world at large. But yes, I will admit that while living in one of the most dangerous communities on the west side of Chicago, we did have our share of close encounters.

There was the time we were at our neighbor’s house, standing up to leave, when someone drove by and shot through the living room window, level with our heads. One of us should have been hit. Yet “somehow” the bullet lodged in the high corner of the wall, far above our heads. And there was the time we were driving home from a fourth of July picnic and someone shot off a random bullet, which lodged in the roof of our car just above my husband’s head. I can recount other stories with similar outcomes that were by no means merely coincidental.

What I learned through it all is this: there’s no safer place in the world than in the center of God’s will. We were in that neighborhood because God called us there to tell people of His power to free them from addiction and gang violence. So when we encountered that violence ourselves, God placed a shield of protection around us.

I once read of a missionary called to share God’s love with a cannibalistic tribe in a remote jungle of Papua New Guinea. Countless times he was nearly killed by spears, poisonous darts, arrows…but God kept him safe for as long as he needed breath to do what he was called to do.

In this crazy, violent age, the safest place to be is in God. It doesn’t ensure we will never experience physical harm, but that He will preserve us until our calling in life is complete. My prayer has always been: “Lord, preserve my life to fulfill every good work you have for me, until the day when my death will give you the greatest glory and honor.” And knowing He’s always been faithful, I walk in confidence and will not fear evil or death in these evil days.

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.” (Psalm 46:1-3)

Photo Credit: File:Split Rock Lighthouse – November 10, 2009 (4094837910).jpg …

On the Verge

Blog_ButterflyFieldsA few days ago, I was the one waiting on the butterflies to emerge from their cocoons. Now they’re waiting on me. Or, rather, we’re waiting on the weather. We can’t set them free until the time is right.

When it’s warm enough, we can release them from their temporary habitat so they can fly unhindered. Problem is, the weather’s crazy out here in the Midwest. We never know what’s gonna happen. Our April has felt more like winter than January did. And so, we wait.

Today, three of the butterflies climbed to the top of the netting, wings twitching in anticipation. From where they sit, they have an expansive view of the outdoor field where their greater destiny awaits. Freedom calling.

It feels so harsh, holding them back when they could fly free. They don’t know that if I release them now, they’ll die. It’s too cold for their delicate wings.

Sometimes we wait on the verge of our destinies, wondering what’s holding us back, and why. We don’t understand how we could leave our cocoon behind only to find ourselves in another cocoon. It’s larger than the original, but we have wings now. We were made for more.

We need to remember there’s “a season for everything, a time for every purpose under heaven.” If God is holding us back, it’s for a purpose. The season may not be right just yet. But in due season, the warmth will rush in, ready to embrace us.

It may seem we’re being unfairly restrained, but If we move forward in the wrong season, we’ll never reach our destinies. We’ll die in the cold. When the season is right, we’ll fly free. If only we wait.

Photo Credit: Field, The Sky And Butterflies Free Stock Photo – Public Domain …

When Your Pain Becomes Fuel for your Fire

Blog_FireHave you ever been through something so painful it was hard to believe anything good could come of it? It felt like the fury of hell was unleashed against you—the forces of evil at war with your soul. Everywhere you turned, you faced a weapon built to destroy your faith.

God’s Word speaks of a time when His people will take the weapons once used against them and use them for fuel: “Then those who live in the towns of Israel will go out and use the weapons for fuel and burn them up—the small and large shields, the bows and arrows, the war clubs and spears. For seven years they will use them for fuel. They will not need to gather wood from the fields or cut it from the forests, because they will use the weapons for fuel” (Ezekiel 39:9-10).

There is no trial so great that God can’t turn it around and use it for good. When seasons turn, you will see the greater purpose for all that you’ve lost. God will enable you, by His grace, to use every weapon once used against you as fuel for your fire.

I’ve heard stories of those who’ve gone through unimaginably dark circumstances, yet their trials birthed in them a passion for something beyond themselves. They chose to take their impossibly difficult circumstance and use it to bring hope and healing. In the midst of their ashes, they found strength and beauty.

Though she had endured the loss of hearing and sight, Helen Keller was able to say, “Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.” Though she could not see, she had vision for how her lifelong struggle would be used to bring hope and change to her generation and beyond.

My prayer is that you will find the purpose for your pain. May the Lord open your eyes to see the good that can come from your trial, and enable you to bring hope and healing from the ashes of your suffering. For every weapon forged to destroy your faith, may your faith increase—and may those weapons become fuel that sustains you and brings light to others walking through the dark seasons of life.

Strengthened by Struggle

Blog_ButterflyChrysalisSo it looks like my butterflies-to-be will be coming home with me for Spring Break. Though I was hoping my students would be here to witness metamorphosis, the timing just didn’t work out. But the coming transformation is something I definitely do NOT want to miss. How sad if it were to happen in an empty classroom, for no one to see.

Unfortunately, that’s how most ordinary miracles are, happening every day, all around us—yet we fail to see. But that’s another blog post.

What I’m thinking about now is…struggle. The other morning, my co-worker gave me some pointers on caring for newly hatched butterflies that turned out to be profound wisdom. When they emerge, the butterflies will struggle. I’ll want to help them, of course, but helping them would hinder a necessary process. Because it’s through the struggle that they gain strength.

How reflective of life, these butterflies. We struggle, fight, and flail—all the while praying to get out of the trial we’re in. If only we lived free of struggle, we’d be strong…or so we believe.

Yet it’s in the midst of struggle that we become strong. The burdens we bear seem to weigh us down, when in fact they’re building us up. Soon, our wings will be strong to fly, if only we endure.

Though it’s hard, I’m learning a new prayer—not that God will take the trial from me (unless He wants to!), but that God will make me stronger through the trial. As Jesus prayed in the garden, so I pray, “My father! If it is possible, may this cup of suffering be taken from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”