A new way to do laundry

I recently started thinking about all the time I spend folding laundry, and wondering if I could make better use of that time.

One of the things I often do when I check on my kids in the middle of the night is to gently place my hands on their head, heart, hands and feet and pray that God will give them the mind of Christ, a servant's heart, hands that are quick to help those in need, and feet prepared with the gospel of peace. I decided that my laundry-folding time would be another great opportunity to pray for each member of our family.

I thought about each piece of clothing and the corresponding area of the body (e.g., shirt-heart), and looked up verses relating to that part. I rewrote some of my favorites into prayers, and I think I am going to just pick one or two verses for each piece of clothing, for each load. It'll be a good way for me to hide more of God's word in my heart, too. I hope you'll join me!

***********************

In case you need a jump-start, here is my list for shirts--

• Deut 30:6 Circumcise ____’s heart that he may love you with his whole heart and live.
• I Chron 16:10 Let ____’s heart rejoice as he seeks you, Lord.
• Psalm 19:4 Let the meditation and thoughts of ____’s heart be pleasing to you, oh God.
• Psalm 20:4 God, grant the desires of ____’s heart and cause all his plans to succeed.
• Psalm 73:26 God, be the strength of ____’s heart and his portion forever.
• Psalm 90:12 Teach _____ to number his days so that he may have a heart of wisdom.
• Prov 4:23 Guard ____’s heart.
• Jer 17:9, 24:7 Let _____ understand that without you, his heart is deceitful and desperately wicked. Give him a heart to know you.
• Jer 32:39 Give _____ a singleness of heart and action so that he will always fear you.
• Matt 5:8 Give ______ a pure heart.
• Luke 8:15 Give _____ a good heart so that the seed of your gospel will take root and bear fruit.
• John 14:27 Do not let ____’s heart be troubled and do not let him be afraid.
• Ephesians 1:18-19 I pray that the eyes of ____’s heart may be enlightened in order that he may know the hope to which You have called him, the riches of your glorious inheritance in your holy people, and your incomparably great power for those who believe.
• Ephesians 3:16-18 I pray that out of your glorious riches you may strengthen _____ with power through your Spirit in his inner being, so that Christ may dwell in his heart through faith. And I pray that ______, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.
• Eph 4:32 Make _______ kind and tenderhearted to those around him.
• I Thes 3:12-13 Lord, make ____’s love increase and overflow for each person in this family and for everyone else. Please strengthen his heart so that he will be blameless and holy in your presence, God and Father, when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones.

In honor of Ewan Eliezer

There is a grieving mommy whose arms are empty tonight. They shouldn't be. A sweet baby boy should be cradled there nursing at her breast and staring up into her loving eyes. I hate that it isn't so.

Instead, her arms are empty and her heart is broken. And, my heart is broken for her.

She is my friend and my sister.

I know I cannot comprehend the depth of her grief. I don't fool myself into thinking that I can. I can't. But, I can comprehend the depth of her love, because I am a fellow mother. I love my children with the same fierce and incomprehensible love that she loved her boy. I understand that love and even though Ewan is no longer here, I know that love lives on in his mama. I get that.

Even though I never met him, I loved Ewan with a real and tangible love. I remember the joy I felt when I read Kirsten's email, 9 months ago now, that she was expecting a child. Tears of joy and prayers of thanksgiving! I remember the gut wrenching pain I felt when I learned that the child she was carrying had a broken heart and the months I spent praying for a miracle. I remember the nights I spent praying through to the early morning hours, after he was born; I can still taste the tears I shed pleading to God to spare his life.

But, we live in a fallen world and even though God is the ultimate victor, sin and death still rule this earth for now. I hate that it is so.

I never got to meet Ewan, but someday I will. Death doesn't have the final say. Praise the Lord! Jesus Christ has conquered death. Ewan is in heaven now, perfect and whole, singing to his Maker in the presence of the angels and saints. And someday I will get to meet that precious baby and stand together with him worshiping God. And someday, his mama's broken heart will be healed and all her tears will be diamonds poured at the feet of Jesus.

Today is a sad day, but I live in hope of that future day.

Sing, baby Ewan,

Sing, little one.

Sing to Jesus.

And, someday,

we'll sing with you.

The Lord Will Provide

My cousin, Jessica, asked her blog readers to share the lyrics to a song that has been meaningful each of them. This song has really been resonating with me lately. The words were written by John Newton (author of Amazing Grace). The version that I have was adapted by Matthew Smith (Thanks, Yvette, for buying me the c.d.!). It's a beautiful poem on it's own, but if you can download the song, it's 100 times better with the music.

So why this song? The words are so deep and really, I can think of about 100 reasons this song has blessed me lately. I think the most profound is that God himself has made provision for me on that last day. I love the last line and I do hope that is how I enter glory--shouting, "The Lord will provide!"

1 Though troubles assail and dangers affright,
Though friends should all fail and foes all unite;
Yet one thing secures us whatever betide,
The Scripture assures us, "The Lord will provide."

2 The birds without barn or storehouse are fed,
From them let us learn to trust for our bread:
His saints what is fitting shall ne'er be denied,
So long as it's written, "The Lord will provide."

3 We may, like the ships, by tempests be tossed
On perilous deeps, but cannot be lost:
Though Satan enrages the wind and the tide,
The promise engages, "The Lord will provide."

4 His call we obey, like Abram of old,
Not knowing our way but faith makes us bold;
For though we are strangers we have a good guide,
And trust in all dangers, "The Lord will provide."

5 When Satan appears to stop up our path,
And fill us with fears, we triumph by faith:
He cannot take from us, though oft he has tried,
This heart-cheering promise, "The Lord will provide."

6 He tells us we're weak, our hope is in vain,
The good that we seek we ne'er shall obtain;
But when such suggestions our spirits have plied,
This answers all questions, "The Lord will provide."

7 No strength of our own, or goodness, we claim;
Yet since we have known the Savior’s great name,
In this our strong tower for safety we hide,
The Lord is our power, the Lord will provide.

8 When life sinks apace, and death is in view,
This word of his grace shall comfort us through;
No fearing nor doubting with Christ on our side,
We hope to die shouting, "The Lord will provide."

A conversation about heaven

Caleb was sick last week. Very sick. At one point, after praying with Caleb that God would make him better, the following conversation transpired:camping out on the couch

"I am sorry you are sick, Sweetheart. I hope God answers our prayer soon."

"Yeah, me too."

"Do you want to hear some really good news? Someday, if you accept Jesus and love him, God will let you go to heaven to live with Him forever. And in heaven, no one is ever sick. Isn't that something to look forward to?"

"Yes! No more sick. That's good!"

"Yes, it is good. God is very kind to us."

"Yeah, He is! . . . .Hey, Mom. . . I wanna go to Church!"

A Well-Spent $20

Last Sunday, after church, Josh and I went to Starbucks and each got a coffee drink and split a muffin. My jaw dropped when the cash register rang up over $17 (Singapore dollars, but still!). It was a nice treat, since we don't do it often, but I couldn't help but think that there was probably a better way to spend $17.

Later that day, I came across this post on Yvette's blog which was a challenge to fight the consumerism of the season by giving one day's worth of Starbucks money to Dustin's ministry in Haiti. (For those of you who haven't been following Dustin's blog, I cannot recommend it highly enough. He is with a very small team of missionaries meeting the physical and spiritual needs of a village in Haiti.) Yvette suggested $5, but since we had just spent over three times that, I thought $20 was more in order.

(photo taken from Haititrip.blogspot.com)

Yesterday, I received an email from Dustin that read:
Thanks for the donation, it will go to the John Little project. He is a little guy who had malnutrition pretty bad, we want to help him get back on his feet.

Could there possibly be a better way to spend $20?

Some send, some go. We all have a part. What's yours?

To donate to Dustin in Haiti, please click HERE.

A Mother's Sick Day

I remember when I worked for the City and had oodles of sick days accrued to my account. Back then, a sick day meant crawling under the covers and sleeping for five or six hours. It meant waking in the afternoon to a steaming bowl of chicken soup and a long hot bath. It meant taking Asprin or Nyquill. It meant watching a favorite movie and finishing the book on the nightstand. It meant all housework ceased and the laundry waited.

A Mother's sick day has a much different meaning. It means wiping a snotty nose that's not your own. It means waking up to soothe a coughing, feverish boy five times in one night, even though your body is achy and sluggish. It means toughing it out without any medicine to protect the little baby growing inside. It means making Jello and crushing ice to be sure that your sick toddler gets enough fluid. It means washing a favorite blanket and mopping up spilled apple juice from the kitchen floor. It means learning how to consider others better than yourself, when "yourself" is all you feel like considering (Phil 2:3).


Caleb and I came down with a nasty cold flu several days ago. This morning, after a fitful night's sleep, I found him crashed on the couch after breakfast.

Sleep, my little one. Mommy is nearby.

Baby Stars

Discovery News published an article just a few days ago that caught my attention. In case you don't want to read the article, here's a quick summary: A recent ultra-violet image of M83 (a well-studied, nearby galaxy) has scientists in a quandary. Newborn stars, if current theories are correct, are the result of intense compression of complex gases at the center of the galaxy, which spontaneously explode to form new stars. But the latest data reveals that M83 is teeming with baby stars out in the remotest parts of the galaxy, far, far from the place where they should be.

In truth, those stars are exactly where they should be. Each little star was placed precisely where it is by the hand of God himself. Isn't it amazing to think that the same God who is in charge of all the millions of stars, millions of light years from here, not only knows every detail of our lives but cares?

Psalm 8:3-4
When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?

Love someone so much it made you cry?

I recently received one of those "friend survey" emails. You know, the kind where you answer a bunch of random questions about yourself and send it to all your friends, including the person that sent it to you. (Just for the record, I don't usually do those, so if you forward one to me, don't take offense if I don't complete it. ) Since this was sent to me by a new friend I just met at Bible Study and since everyone else on the list were other ladies from the small group, I thought it might be a good way to get to know random tidbits about each other, like favorite ice-cream, number of pets, regular bedtime, etc.

There were a few "deeper" questions on the survey.
Q3: What are you most afraid of?
Q10: Love someone so much it made you cry?
Q33: What do you want to do before you die?

My answer to Q10 was yes, but since I sent the survey off two days ago, I have been thinking more about the depth of that question. My quick response was in regards to being a wife and mother. I have cried many times because of the overwhelming love I have for my husband, Joshua, and son, Caleb. The amazing joy these two have brought to my life is inexpressible. Sometimes, tears are the only words that come close to capturing it.

But, as I started pondering the question, I began thinking of other loves that have brought me to tears.

The deepest and most intense love, the one that most often brings me to tears, especially in prayer or in worship, is my love for Christ. Or rather, I should say, His love for me! (We love Him because He first loved us. I John 4:19) Not that tears of love are a prerequisite for true faith, but I do imagine that every true Christian has had a heart so full of love for Christ that tears were the only possible release!

Just this weekend, I learned of a difficult situation some very dear friends are facing. I have mentioned the Davis family before, when Eric was in the hospital just before Christmas. Unexpectedly, he collapsed again just a few days ago, suffered multiple cardiac arrests and is now in critical condition. When I heard the news, tears of love poured forth. I love this family, even though I do not get to see them often. My love for them caused me to feel their burden as if it were my own. Sometimes the tears of love are painful.

Rule breaking and a thank-you.

For the second time this week, Caleb and I made the laborious 2-mile trek to the grocery store. I try my best to buy everything I need during my weekly trip, but this week, we ran out of a few essential items mid-week, and I was forced to make a second trip. By the time we arrived at the shopping center, I was hot, sweaty and sapped of energy. It's bad enough to feel that way myself, but when I looked down into the stroller and saw little beads of sweat on Caleb's face, my heart melted. We were in dire need of a pick-me-up and I was desperate. In the heat of the moment (literally the HEAT of the moment), I decided that the fastest plan of action was to head for the nearest restaurant and order a cool treat. (This is where the rule-breaking comes in. . . ) So, before I could think twice, I pushed the stroller through the entrance of McDonalds and heard myself ordering an Oreo McFlurry.

I always swore I would never willingly feed my kid McDonalads (have you seen Super Size Me?). It was rule number 2 on my list of "Things Good Moms Never Do." But there I was, hunched down next to the stroller offering spoonful after spoonful of flurry fluff to my 13-month-old kid. Only 13 months, and I'm already resorting to McDonalds. . .

"What kind of mother am I!?" I thought. "With every spoonful, I am dooming my son to a nutrient-deficient future. My son will never like broccoli or spinach or cauliflower. I can see it in his huge grin and oreo-studded teeth. And, if he's ruined, what hope can I possibly have for any future kids God may give us!"

As I berated myself for ruining my son's appetite for all things green and nutritious, I heard my brother's voice ringing in my ear, quoting one of his favorite verses, "Be not righteous over much; neither make thyself over wise" (Ecc 7:16 KJV) (If any of you know my brother, you know he is always quoting obscure verses from the King James version. . . usually with a King James-ish accent, to boot).

Be not overly wise. . . be not overly wise. That's just what I was being. . . or trying to be. Suddenly I realized that there are some rules in life that are worth breaking every now and then. . . and eating at McDonalds was one of them.

So, even though he's half-way across the world, I'm sending out a little thank-you to my brother. Thanks, Dan, for the reminder that it is possible to be overly righteous and overly wise. (If Caleb could type, I'm sure he'd send his thanks, too!)

p.s.-Just for the record, I'm going to make Caleb eat green peas for dinner! =)

Imagination: A Christian Duty

This devotional was sent to me by my mom and I thought it particularly good.

(for the original source, click here)

God is Not Boring
John Piper

Recently I spoke at Northwestern College as part of their year-long 100^th anniversary celebration. The title of the message was "The Supremacy of God in the Life of the Mind." One capability of the mind that I focused on was the imagination. It applies to everybody who has a mind. Here's what I said:

One of the great duties of the Christian mind is imagination. It is not the only thing the mind does. The mind observes. The mind analyzes and organizes. The mind memorizes. But imagination is different. It does not observe or analyze what's there; it imagines what is not seen but might be there and might explain what is there (as in the case of most scientific discoveries). Or it imagines a new way of saying what is there that no one has said before (as in the case of creative writing and music and art).

I say that imagination is a Christian duty for two reasons. One is that you can't apply Jesus' golden rule without it. He said, "Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them" (Matthew 7:12). We must imagine ourselves in their place and imagine what we would like done to us. Compassionate, sympathetic, helpful love hangs much on the imagination of the lover.

The other reason I say that imagination is a Christian duty is that when a person speaks or writes or sings or paints about breathtaking truth in a boring way, it is probably a sin. The supremacy of God in the life of the mind is not honored when God and his amazing world are observed truly, analyzed duly, and communicated boringly. Imagination is the key to killing boredom. We must imagine ways to say truth for what it really is. And it is not boring. God's world - all of it - rings with wonders. The imagination calls up new words, new images, new analogies, new metaphors, new illustrations, new connections to say old, glorious truth. Imagination is the faculty of the mind that God has given us to make the communication of his beauty beautiful.

Imagination may be the hardest work of the human mind. And perhaps the most God-like. It is the closest we get to creation out of nothing. When we speak of beautiful truth, we must think of a pattern of words, perhaps a poem. We must conceive something that has never existed before and does not now exist in any human mind. We must think of an analogy or metaphor or illustration which has no existence. The imagination must exert itself to see it in our mind, when it is not there. We must create word combinations and music that have never existed before. All of this we do, because we are like God and because he is infinitely worthy of ever-new words and songs.

A college - or a church - committed to the supremacy of God in the life of the mind will cultivate many fertile, and a few great, imaginations. And O how the world needs God-besotted minds that can say the great things of God and sing the great things of God and play the great things of God in ways that have never been said or sung or played before.

Imagination is like a muscle. It grows stronger when you flex it. And you must flex it. It does not usually put itself into action. It awaits the will. Imagination is also contagious. When you are around someone (alive or dead) who uses it a lot, you tend to catch it. So I suggest that you hang out with some people (mainly dead poets) who are full of imagination, and that you exert yourself to think up a new way to say an old truth. God is worthy. "Oh sing to the LORD a new song" - or picture, or poem, or figure of speech.

Focus

Our pastor said something last Sunday that has been rumbling around in my head all week. He said, "Don't let the FORM of your faith cause you to miss the FOCUS of your faith, namely Christ Jesus." Although this was said in the context of a sermon being preached on Romans 2, I can't help but think of Hebrews 12:2.

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus,
the author and perfecter of our faith,
who for the joy set before him endured the cross,
scorning its shame,
and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

The question I have been asking myself all week and which I now put to you is this: Are your eyes fixed on Christ? Are you fascinated with Christ? In love with Him? Is he your waking thought in the morning and your last thought before slipping into sleep?

I don't know where you are in your walk of faith, but wherever you are I encourage you: "throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles" and run toward Jesus! (Heb 12:1) Whether you be entangled in the grossest of sins or simply weighted down with trappings of religiosity and morality, the end result is the same. . . you cannot run freely to the arms of Jesus.

Photo: Singaporean Sunset by Joshua Redin

The most important question. . .

Josh is now in his second week of classes. What we have discovered is that teaching is more than a full-time job. In fact, I think teaching might be the second-most time-consuming job in the world (motherhood being the first).

I am sure it will get easier for him as he settles into a routine, but even with a routine, it is difficult to lesson plan, grade and teach 125 students ranging in age from 6 to 18 years old. Despite all the obstacles, Josh has kept a great attitude and has risen to meet the challenge. I admire the fact that he doesn't complain when the alarm has gone off at 5:00 AM after only a few hours of sleep. I admire that he hasn't taken the easy way out and gone with status-quo, but has thoughtfully attempted to make each class the best it can be. The thing I admire most, however, is that Josh is continually asking himself the most important question, "What can I do to make a difference for Christ?". . . After all, isn't that why we're here. Isn't that why you're there.

We're Home. . . whatever that means.

After a two week stint in Mississippi at a training seminar/commissioning service with NICS (the Missionary organization with which we are working), Caleb and I are back in California, staying at my parents' house. Josh is en route to Haiti to visit his best friend, Dustin, who is doing missionary work with the Haitians. I am anxiously awaiting an email from Josh, letting me know he's arrived safely. . . I am a notorious worrier and it doesn't help that my husband is a continent away in a dangerous, third-world country. So, if you think of it, pray for him and for me, too!

It's nice to be home, but in the back of my mind, I know that we're not really HOME. We are in the middle of hard-core transition--not yet "there", but not fully "here" either. It's a good place to be, although not exactly fun. These feelings of not belonging anywhere does stir in me a more definite longing for the day when I will finally settle into my heavenly home with Christ, where moving boxes and goodbyes will be a thing of the past =)

The NICS training we attended was excellent and I can't wait to share more of what we learned. I will post my musings soon, but for now, I'm going to go take care of my jet-lagged, ear-ached, sleepy-eyed boy.

Clean Sheets

Last night Josh and I enjoyed our favorite treat: clean sheets! In the winter, we put on our warm flannel. In the summer, our white-on-white cotton ones. It is so relaxing to lay down and breathe in the dryer sheet smell. And, call me weird, every time there are new sheets on the bed, I love to wiggle my legs back and forth to enjoy the crisp, smooth way they feel.

What I DON'T love about clean sheets is how quickly my wiggling, teething, sleepy-eyed 9-month-old son can get them dirty. This morning, in a span of less than a minute, Caleb had managed to spill milk all over, throw-up, and pee on our fresh, clean sheets. How is that even possible!? He slept all night in his crib without getting his sheets dirty and yet he decimated ours in a matter of seconds.

This morning's fiasco set me to thinking. How many times have I done the same thing to God!? I go to Him in prayer and confession, asking Him to make me clean and fresh. And, He does! He patiently cleans up my sinful mess, forgives me my transgressions and puts me on the right track. Then, within two breaths of saying "amen" I wiggle and squirm and soil my freshly-cleaned-up soul with sin again. But, unlike me, God doesn't tire of changing the sheets. His mercies are new EVERY morning! What a tender, loving Father He is!

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23

The upside of Caleb's mess is that I am now forced to changed the sheets AGAIN, which means we will have fresh, crisp, Bounce-scented sheets two nights in a row. I'll try not to grumble too much as I am wrestling with the fitted sheet. Instead, I think I'll use those few minutes to ask God to change the sheets of my soul.

When was the last time you had clean sheets?

Let's Indoctrinate Our Children!

Here is the promised excerpt mentioned in my previous post. . .

Taken from From My Kitchen Window by Jesse Rice Sandberg:

Let's Indoctrinate Our Children!

Not too many weeks ago a teacher in one of the nearby high schools was suspended on the charge that he had propagated communism in the public schools. The complaint had been made by several parents that their children had come home from school with the news that their teacher had told them the "good" side of communism. In his own defense the teacher said, "I am not a communist and I have never been one. I feel that it is my duty as a teacher to present both sides of every issue."

On the surface, "to present both sides" sounds innocent enough; in fact, it has a rather noble ring to it. Modern society has made broad-mindedness the supreme virtue. We have been so busy being tolerant, unbiased, non-sectarian and ecumenical that we have almost thrown away the God-given-privilege--no, I should say God-given RESPONSIBILITY--of influence over our children. We say, in essence, to the world, "I'll give you the same opportunities for indoctrinating my children for evil as I give myself to indoctrinate them for good. May the best man win!". . .

When we are teaching young children to stay out of the street, we do not describe to them all the advantages of playing in the street in an effort to give "both sides." If it is dangerous to their health and life, then there are no advantages, no "good points" about playing in the street. It is as simple as that. How strange that we are inclined to be more careless with their spiritual welfare than we are with their bodies. . . .

We give our children a slight smattering of spiritual training in the home and in the Sunday School, then we leave it up to the movies, the television, the cheap magazine, the evolution-teaching professor, and the worldly, popular crowd at school to do their worst without ever a a word raised in protest. God forgive us!

From My Kitchen Window

When I was a little girl, I was fascinated with books. I remember, in particular, one small, pink book that my mom kept in a prominent place (at least, prominent from a 3-year-old's perspective) on the bookshelf. Perhaps it was the rosy color, perhaps it was the cozy drawing of a cheerful little home on the cover, perhaps it was the petite size of the book. . . whatever it was, that book sparked my imagination. I can remember wondering what was inside and looking forward to growing up and being a Mommy with a pink book just like that.

In September of 2005, at one of my wedding showers, I received a torn, scribbled-upon, faded pink book whose inscription read, "Dear Rebecca, My heart is filled with joy and love as the Lord has brought you into this glorious season of your life! You have been a blessing to me all your life. The little scribbles on this book were made by YOU as I enjoyed the nuggets of wisdom contained within its pages. May you have many happy years as a wife and mother. . . Love, your own Mother." What a wonderful gift!

As it turns out, the little pink book that caught my fancy as a little girl was entitled From My Kitchen Window: Conversations with Christian Wives and Mothers about Home and Daily Living by Jesse Rice Sandberg. Published in 1963, the short little vignettes reflect a different era, an era not so long ago, but far, far away. Mrs. Sandberg speaks of sewing her own dresses and her children's clothes, of chatting with neighbors over back fences, of hanging clothes out to dry on the line, and of starching the kitchen curtains. But, despite the old-fashioned homemaking curiosities, Mrs. Sandberg's spiritual insights are just as relevant today as they were forty years ago. (One devotional that stood out to me was entitled, "Let's Indoctrinate Our Children!" I will post an excerpt in a subsequent post. )

As you may have guessed, this blog was intentionally named in honor of that tattered old book. Although I am well aware that Mrs. Sandberg's wisdom and insights far surpass my own, I do hope that in forty years, a young wife or new mother will be encouraged and convicted by the posts on this blog, just as I have been by the contents of the little pink book. It is something aim for. It is something to pray for.

Life as a Leaf

John 3:8 The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.

A leaf in God's wind. . . that is exactly what I feel like. One minute I am firmly attached to the tree, plugged in and being nourished. The next moment, the wind is blowing with such force that I am shaken from the security of the branches and flying helplessly through the air to only-God-knows-where. At first, it is scary, a helpless free-fall. And then I am reminded that I am but a leaf in God's wind. I am caught up, a tiny leaf, in an exhilarating windstorm. Do I trust Him? I must! He has created me, sustained me and graciously filled my life with blessing upon blessing. He cares for the sparrows and dresses the lilies; surely He will care for me, too.

I am but a leaf in God's wind. Really. . . we all are.

Opportunity knocked this morning, but I asked her to leave.

Around 10:30 this morning, two young women rang my doorbell. It was evident from the way they were dressed and the books they were carrying that they were Jehovah's Witnesses. I had just put Caleb down for a nap and was still in my morning lounge-around clothes, in the middle of getting ready for the day. I hesitated, but decided to open the door.

They smiled and greeted me, apologizing for the interruption and explaining that they were going door to door to encourage people to read their Bibles. I politely told them that I agreed with their campaign to read the Bible but that I disagreed with their religion, specifically their view of the deity of Christ and his role as our Savior and Lord. They asked me if they could ask me some further questions, but I said I was not interested. I wished them a good day and closed the door. 30 seconds was all it took to hear their brief introduction and send them away.

As soon as the door was closed, I resumed getting ready for the day. As I was standing in front of the mirror, I felt very convicted. (I don't know why, but standing in front of the mirror often reminds me to examine myself and make confession in prayer.) God reminded me that I had just closed the door on two immortal souls. It wasn't for safety's sake that I had turned them away; unlike others who have knocked on my door, these two young girls were far from physically threatening. I had simply not seen them as Christ would have seen them, lost and in need of a Savior. I had seen them as a nuisance.

I quickly finished getting ready, woke Caleb from his nap, and loaded him in the stroller. I headed out the front door, scanning the street to see if I could find them. I walked around the neighborhood twice, hoping to encounter them, to invite them back to my house to sit in the front yard and talk.

The neighborhood was as quiet as one would expect for a weekday morning. I searched the streets near my house but never found the two girls. I can only pray that another Christian had invited them in and was being lighter and saltier than I had been.

It's fine and dandy to think of sharing Christ to the far reaches of the world, but it really ought to start at my own front door. Next time opportunity knocks, I plan to offer her lemonade and friendship and Christ.

The Industrious Revolution

I've decided to implement something new. I'm calling it "The Industrious Revolution." The plan is to set aside time to work industriously. The trick is in the adjective. I mean, I work now. . . I am usually caught up on laundry, the dishes and other household chores, but I wouldn't say that I tackle my work industriously! I meander. I get side-tracked. And, even though the work is getting done, I feel lazy. And laziness is one of those things, like yeast, that seems to have an amazing ability to permeate everything in the blink of an eye.

Here's the nitty-gritty of the plan, in case you are in need of an industrious revolution in your life, too. I am separating my work into three categories: daily chores, weekly chores and projects. I am setting aside one half-hour first thing in the morning (after Josh leaves for work) to tackle my daily chores.

1. Quick-Clean* the Kitchen
   
2. Tidy Living Room
3. Make Bed
4. Start a Load of Laundry
5. Quick-Clean the Bathroom
6. Vacuum Walkways
7. One Weekly Chore (Dust, Vacuum Whole House, Change Sheets, Etc)
   

Caleb is usually in a great mood first thing in the morning and loves to play by himself in his Exersaucer. Lately, I've been using that time to read the headlines, check my email, chat on the phone, and dilly-dally on the computer (the dilly-dallying is where I'm starting to see some laziness creep in!), all while the breakfast dishes sit in the sink and our bed is unmade. So, starting today, things are going to be different. I am going to get Caleb settled in for play-time, put on a worship C.D., set the timer for 30 minutes and have at it! I'll have to work INDUSTRIOUSLY to get it all done in a half-hour, but it's do-able.

The second work-time of the day will coincide with either Caleb's morning or afternoon nap (whichever we are home for). I am going to write a list of projects I want to tackle. I frequently find myself saying "Oh, I need to ______. I don't have time right now, but I'll have to get to that later." Unfortunately, I find myself saying that over and over about the same things. I'm going to keep a list on the side of the refrigerator and as I think of things, I will write them down. Every day, I will take the top thing on the list and begin to work on it. I'll work industriously on it for 30 minutes or until it is done. Whichever comes first. If I can't finish in 30 minutes, at least I will have started!

I know this sounds a little Type-A. It probably is. But, watching Amazing Grace and reading about Wilberforce's life has reminded me that self-discipline and perseverance are the means God uses to accomplish His work through us. I'm quite sure that God has bigger plans than just the breakfast dishes and the laundry, but character building starts with little things. Hebrews 6:12 says, "We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised." (NIV) Since my list of heroes does not include one lazy person, I realized that I need to ask God to help me get rid of laziness in my own life! That's where the idea of the Industrious Revolution was born.

I'll let you know how the Revolution goes. If you decide you want to join me (your task-list may look quite different from mine), let me know. It's always more encouraging to know others are on the same path.


*I have this theory that I have dubbed the "quick-clean" theory. The theory states that by cleaning something every day, you almost never have to do any deep-cleaning since the thing in question never has a chance to get deep-dirty! =) (I also think this theory has spiritual applications but perhaps that would be best considered in another post.)

Who are your heros?

Sadly, most people would have a hard time answering this question. Either they 1) don't have any heroes, or 2) have the wrong heroes. There is a grave danger in both.

1) We are humans and therefore we are moved by stories. Especially, true stories. Life can be overwhelming and our circumstances can seem insurmountable. But stories of great men and women who have gone before offer us hope. They make us strive for greatness. They swell our souls. Without heroes, this generation has not learned to look beyond itself or dream of great things.

2) Even worse than having no heroes at all is having the wrong heroes. Popular singers, actors, sports stars and wealthy entrepreneurs may have success, but usually this success is purchased at the price of their souls. This culture is emulating the vainest of the vain, the most foolish of the fools. We have lauded the shameful and shamed the laudable.

Hopefully, as a Christian, you haven't fallen into either of these two traps. Hopefully, when asked the question, "Who are your heroes?" you can respond with a long and vibrant list of men and women who have given their lives to the service of Christ. Perhaps they are well-known, perhaps not. It really doesn't matter. What matters is that they lived, and that they lived well.

William Wilberforce is now on my list of heroes. Go watch Amazing Grace and, if Wilberforce is not already on your list, add him! And, when you're done adding William Wilberforce, go ahead and add these men and women, too.