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You can stand because of Him.

“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” – 1 Corinthians 10:13

Over time this verse has been commonly paraphrased as “God will never give you anything you can’t handle.” I’ve heard it repeated thousands of times. I’ve even repeated it to others. This past week that very paraphrase became my mantra.

It was Wednesday. I had a writing deadline approaching and a to-do list longer than usual, but all was put on hold when the kids awoke. They were cranky. Zach was running a fever and Isabel was congested; both requiring extra cuddles and undivided attention. On top of this, Zach’s eczema had flared up overnight leaving an open and infected right hand. Rick was also under the weather. He decided to take half a sick day and work from home. My mantra was well rehearsed and quietly whispered in the back of my mind. “God will never give you anything you can’t handle.”

I settled the kids in front of a movie with blankets and pacis and all things comfortable, then started a load of laundry. I was waiting for 9am to call the allergist about Zach’s hand. Before that time came, the washer overflowed flooding the basement, Isabel had diarrhea (unfortunately, not in the potty), and Zach vomited all over Rick and my freshly cleaned bathroom. A little louder: “God will never give you anything you can’t handle.”

The allergist was free in the afternoon; we made a 1pm appointment. After cleaning both the kids and the bathroom (again) and attempting to mop the basement mess, I put Zach down for an early nap. Somehow I managed to get a shower and some lunch before heading off to the doctor’s office. There we discovered Zach had a double ear infection. At this point I started repeating it aloud: “God will never give you anything you can’t handle!”

As the words rolled off my tongue and into my ears I heard what a silly statement it is. First of all, the verses refer specifically to temptation, not trials, so the paraphrase is inaccurate. Secondly, to say God will not give me anything I can’t handle assumes I have strength of my own. I do not. I can’t do anything without God’s help. It is only because of Him that I am breathing at this moment; only because of Him I can wake each morning.

If we change it just a bit – God will never give you anything you can’t handle WITH HIM – well, that’s better, but not very encouraging. When you realize there is nothing God cannot handle, then you’re faced with this reality: Hell can land face-up on your front step and there is nothing you can do about it.

The good news? God can do everything about it. By trusting in Him, there is nothing through which you cannot stand. Note I said “stand”. I don’t mean we cower on the floor waiting for the storm to pass. God will help us stand through whatever trials come our way. You may not enjoy it, but you’ll survive. You’ll survive with a renewed faith and deeper layer of sanctification. This is where we find our encouragement.

“Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” – Matthew 19:26

“Everything is possible for him who believes.” – Mark 9:23

All scripture taken from the NIV translation.

Lost

Early in the morning, my mother called. She couldn’t wait to tell me what had happened the previous day at work.

Mom works customer service for a big home improvement store. She handles returns and the like right inside the front door. As she stood there working, two men entered. The younger of the two wore dark glasses and held a cane. The older gently guided him to a bench. He helped him to sit then approached the desk. He had found this young man wandering in the parking lot; he was lost and blind. “Can we use your phone?”

“Sure. I can only make local calls. Is it here in Owensboro?”

The dazed young man stood. “Is that where I am? Am I in Kentucky?”

They confirmed, yes, he was. “Where did you think you were?”

“Texas. Fort Worth.” The boy started to sob uncontrollably. How could he have gotten so lost?

Mom called the police then started searching the phone book for anyone he might know. There had to be a reason he was so far from home and someone nearby who knew him. He did have name, so she started there. Going through one by one, she called every number with that last name. Halfway through the list she reached a woman, the young man’s mother. She was, at that moment, on the other line with the boy’s father. Mom told her where he was and promised to watch over him until the father came.

The father was actually in the parking lot. He had left the boy in their truck for just a moment to run into the store. When he returned, his son was gone. He had been scouring the shopping center trying to find him. He ran into the store, tears of relief streaming down his face. Strong arms enveloped his son while a tender voice assured him he was safe.

Mom’s voice cracked and faltered as she told me the story. She was completely moved by the father’s love for his son; by the fear he felt; by the compassion of a stranger to help him find his way home. As I listened, I couldn’t help but see the allegory. Does it sound familiar?

We have a Father seeking us always. God is searching, hurting, wanting nothing more than to protect us and bring us safely home. He may be just a step away, but sometimes in our blindness we fail to see. We are the lost ones. We think we know what we’re doing, but so often haven’t even a clue where we are. Sometimes we need a friend or stranger to help us; maybe even angels protecting us while we wait. Sometimes, after we’ve been found, we need to help others, show them where they are and how they can get home.

Who are you in this play? Are you the lost child? Have you been found? Or are you the stranger helping another to be found?

“But if from there you seek the Lord your God, you will find Him if you look with all your heart and with all your soul.” – Deuteronomy 4:29 (NIV)

“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in Heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” – Luke 15: 4-7 (NIV)

Another Little Thing

It’s been a rough week. Zachary’s molars started breaking through, so he’s been miserable with fever and pain. On top of that, the eczema on his hands flared up again, getting infected. He hasn’t slept well. Translation: WE haven’t slept well. I am tired, sore, sleep-deprived and emotionally exhausted.

Some days being a parent seems like too much work. I get tired of being nice and loving and nurturing. Some days I would rather be selfish. I would love to drop the kids off with their real parents so I can hit the movies or walk aimlessly around the city. Then I remember: I am the real parent.

On other days I am reminded exactly why I longed to be a mom in the first place: those little things that make all the difference. This morning Zach wasn’t feeling his best. He started crying and fussing with a stinky diaper. I changed him, lifted him off the table and gave him a kiss. He threw his arm around my neck and said, “Thank you, Mom.” I melted. It is amazing how such a little thing can make all those weary, endless nights disappear.

Let us not become weary in doing good for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. – Galations 6:9

Fifteen years strong

Today is my rebirthday. Fifteen years ago I gave my life to Christ. Some of you have been Christians much longer than I; some of you may be stuck wondering what in the world a “rebirthday” is.

A rebirthday is simply an anniversary; it is the anniversary of being born again. Jesus said “No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” (John 3:3 NIV) He goes on to explain we must be born of the flesh and of the spirit. We are born of the flesh when we exit our mothers’ wombs; we are born of the spirit when we place our faith in Jesus Christ. Faith of what? Faith that what He says is true; what He says, He will do. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16) If we put our trust in Him for salvation – not in ourselves, our works or our wealth, but in Him alone – He will give us eternal life as heirs of God. Our rebirthday remembers the day we were born of the spirit, the day God adopted us as His children.

None of this is to say that salvation happens in a day. Sometimes salvation is a process. It can take days or even years for someone to go from doubt to belief. But sometimes it does happen in a day. Sometimes there is a wonderful “ah-ha” moment in which a person is faced with their wicked immortality and God’s amazing grace. It is in that moment a conscious decision must be made: to accept God’s free gift of life and follow Him or to deny His grace and continue without Him. I made the choice to follow God on January 16th, 1992.

I was fifteen and grounded. Some parents threaten their teens with weeks or months of grounding but then recant. My mom grounded me for a year and never recanted. She stuck to her guns and made me stick with the punishment. It changed my life.

Before this disciplinary year began, my life was focused only on me and how to get what I wanted. More than anything I wanted to be a dancer. I wanted to be on Broadway. There was only one way to get from our map-dot of a town to New York: show choir. I worked my way into a circle of friends to help me get in. The problem was they weren’t much help in other areas. I started dating one of the guys who was tight with the director. A free ticket, so I thought. I was invincible and on my way. We started skipping school and lying to everybody. We even got the choir director to defend us and help us get away with it. This wasn’t serious stuff by today’s standards. We weren’t doing drugs or getting drunk. We were kids messing around. He was seventeen; I was fourteen. We thought we had the world in our back pockets – until my mom found out.

She was a single mom working hard to raise her four kids. She couldn’t keep an eye on us all the time, but the neighbors could. The lady across the street noticed my boyfriend’s truck in our driveway long past time for school to start. (This was after my mother had already forbidden me to see him again or have any friends over when she wasn’t home.) Our kindly neighbor lady called Mom to report. It was not a good day. By the end of it, I was faced with no friends, detention at school and a one year grounding sentence. My punishment disallowed me any association with this boy or his family for an entire year. That included any event or group in which he might be involved. So long, show choir. Adios, dance classes, plays and theatre. Good bye, Broadway.

The only social activities permitted were sports or church. I’m not athletic, so basically just church. I resented this from the tips of my toes. I blamed God for my parents’ divorce and didn’t appreciate having Him forced on me. If He really was all powerful, then He should have fixed my family. He didn’t. Instead we were drug through years of painful court proceedings, counseling and public humiliation. In a town that small, everyone and their mothers knew more about me and our family’s drama than I did. It was God’s fault and now, as punishment, I had to sit in church and hear all about Him every Sunday and Wednesday.

I begrudgingly joined the youth group. We had journals to keep and lessons to finish between each meeting. It was meant to teach consistent devotions, quiet times of studying the Bible and praying each day. I usually did the whole week’s worth in one sitting. They were short and this kept my penance to a minimum.

I don’t remember what the lesson was on January 16th. I don’t remember what day it was or what else was going on. What I remember is the verse I read and the thoughts that coursed through my mind.

“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Romans 8:38-39

If none of these things could pull me away from God’s love, who was I to even try? I am no match for angels or demons or laws and powers. I am nothing and yet I realized, ever since my parents split nine years before, I had subconsciously been doing everything in my strength to abandon God. And in spite of all my efforts, blasphemy and rebellion, He still loved me. He would not allow me to abandon Him. Furthermore, He would never, ever abandon me.

Never before had I been loved like that. Oh, my mother loves me without strings or conditions, but she doesn’t know my heart. She doesn’t see my secret thoughts. God does – and He still loves me. He knows my words before they touch my tongue. He knows my thoughts and actions before I wake each morning. He knows all my faults, embarrassments and ill-conceived pride … and He still loves me! Faced with this kind of love I saw no choice but to embrace it. I confessed my weaknesses before Him and promised to live the rest of my days for His glory. Where He wanted me, I would go. What He asked of me, I would do. I surrendered all my will to Him and have never regretted it.

It has been fifteen years and I am so far from being perfect. Fortunately, I don’t need to be perfect – God loves me anyway. And I continue to put my faith in Him: that what He says is true and what He says, He will do. He says He loves me, and so it is true. He says He will give eternal life to those who believe, and that He will do. Praise be to Him!

If any of this is confusing to you or if you want to know more, please do not hesitate to email me. I would love nothing more than to discuss this with you further. I have found an awesome freedom in knowing God personally. I long to have you know Him too.

It's in the little things.

Isabel has been struggling with her prepositions lately. In her language 'to', 'for', 'from', 'at', 'in' ... they're all interchangeable. She grabs onto the big words, the ones she deems most important, then kind of stammers through everything in between. Lately, her loudest and most clearly pronounced mistake is in song: "Stand up! Stand up to Jesus!"

I can't tell you how many times we've tried to correct her. "No, honey, it's stand up FOR Jesus -not TO Jesus."

"I know, I know, Mama." She then starts another verse, rallying troops against Christ. She doesn't care much for those little words, but they hold a bucket of meaning.

Sometimes little things mean a lot. Sometimes we are so busy focusing on what we deem important we forget the meaning behind those little things.

Today my big struggle has been boredom. Both Ellie and Zach want my attention all the time. I'm not allowed to be a spectator or innocent bystander. No, I must get down and dirty with every game they imagine. Sometimes I love it. Today ... well, I haven't been lovin' it. We played for half an hour with a piece of ribbon. Then we ran back and forth from the couch to the stairs pretending one was a bus and another was a train. At each stop we had to be sure our seatbelts were fastened just long enough to unfasten them and start over. This went on for about an hour. The whole time my mind was filled with the thousands of other things I could be doing. I thought about the piles of laundry in the basement and the dishes in the sink. I thought about that bill I needed to pay and some notes to remember for a writing project. I remembered a deadline quickly approaching and a friend I promised to call. I was bored out of my mind playing with ribbon and invisible transportation. But you know what? Isabel and Zach had a ball! They guffawed big belly laughs and sang happy little songs. Their eyes sparkled in a way I haven't noticed in a while. These little ones are so important! Yes, that eye twinkle is a lot smaller than the pile of laundry calling my name. The giggles and tumbles and sweet imagination stories sometimes get lost in the big stuff, what I deem more important at the moment. But when I miss those little things ... well, I've missed all the meaning - haven't I?

My challenge to you: savor the little things. In giving little words of encouragement or a little smile; in those little, sometimes hidden moments of life we can find all the meaning.