The Giver

I’m at the point in my life where I am more of the giver than the receiver-aka Motherhood. I have been shopping online and on foot for weeks now, picking out gifts, making sure I didn’t forget anyone, worrying whether everyone has an even number of gifts so no child feels I love one more than the other and then their whole life is ruined by lack of Shopkins. I’m done with my Christmas shopping…I think. Actually, I may need just one more…ugh.

This year I have encountered something I’ve never had to deal with before. My kids have been snooping. In my closet, under the bed, one even had the audacity to tear a bit of wrapping paper to get a better look at her gift. I was a little disappointed with her cunning. I mean, really, doesn’t she realize I’m going to notice the torn paper? You have to at least try to carefully lift the taped edge so that you can tape it back after you’ve taken a peek! Amateurs.

Full disclosure-there have been several times over the last few weeks when I joyfully bought and wrapped gifts for my children…and then there were moments that I wanted to take it all back to the store. Tantrums, bad attitudes, ungrateful spirits rubbed me raw and I thought, “They don’t deserve anything I’ve done for them! Maybe we are spoiling them too much.”

But, here is the truth. No child deserves any gift they get. And no parent gives them gifts because they deserve it. We give our children gifts because we love them and it delights our hearts to do so.

So it is with God. We have received many gifts from our Father, the greatest of which we have planned an entire celebratory season around-the gift of Jesus. I promise you with all my heart that we have not received any of these gifts because we deserved them. God gave us these good things in spite of the fact that we deserve to be forever separated from him. Our depravity is so wretched that we deserve an eternal time out, separated from the holy God who is without sin and always good.

Instead, we receive gifts we couldn’t earn and could never hope to deserve.

God gives his unfathomable peace, unexplainable joy, unquenchable hope, and immeasurable love. We receive it in the person of Jesus. God gives because he is all of these things, and enjoys all of these things, and because of his love for us, he generously shares them with us so that we can enjoy them too.

He doesn’t give us what we deserve, like Santa and his stocking full of coal. He gives us himself. He gave his Son to take our place while we were still wallowing in our sin. He’s done it all-for us. He is the ultimate giver.

I want to give like he does. With love, and joy and delight. Not with a grumbling heart, but rather with a cheerful heart. I want to give even when the receiver doesn’t appreciate the cost of the gift. I’m not at that point yet. My selfishness still tries to get the glory even through my acts of generosity. But as I consider the way God has given to me, I sense that my heart is changing and I’m less concerned with the worthiness of the receiver and more enamored by the graciousness of God to someone as unworthy as me.

Do you struggle with giving?

My prayer for us today is that we would be gracious receivers of the gifts we do not deserve and generous givers that reflect the heart of our generous God.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life.            John 3:16

In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.                         1 John 4:10

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…so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.            Ephesians 2:4-7

For When You Can't See Past the Dirty Diapers

Hello Friends,

Here we are at the end of November with the holiday season in full swing. I have really enjoyed taking time this month to reflect on the things God has been teaching me since I started this blog last January. 

I am also looking forward to the beginning of Advent, the expectation of Christ, and sharing some new things with you. 

As I sat around the table with family at Thanksgiving dinner, I found myself talking about my great-grandmother, Sonia. I wrote a post about her back in August and as I recalled her story to my father-in-law this week, I knew that I needed to share her story with you again and remember the encouragement her story offers. 

I hope you enjoy reading about Sonia, and come away from this post encouraged. I am so thankful for you, sweet Mama, and the journey we have taken together this year encountering the Gospel in this beautiful calling of motherhood!

Hugs!

For When You Can't See Past the Dirty Diapers

When I look at my great grandmother’s photo, I get a little lost in her story. Sonia came to America from Siberia when she was around 15 years old after she married my great-grandfather who was an American soldier.

I absolutely love her story, though, truthfully, I don’t know the details as much as I would like, but my crazy imagination sure can fill in the gaps pretty quickly with dramatic ideas of my own.

One wonders what motivated her to leave her family and native country and move to a completely new country with her husband. When I look at her round face, framed by her trendy bob hairstyle, and those mischievous dark eyes, I wonder what her personality was like. I look at my own face in the mirror, contemplating my own dark eyes and wonder if she was introverted and shy at 15 years of age like I was. Or was she extroverted and bubbly like my free-spirited 6-year-old? The way she seems to be glancing away from the camera in the photo above makes me think she was more like my third daughter who can only pause for a moment before something glittery has her running breathlessly through life again, savoring every moment as only a wild child can. Did she get lost in the stories in her head, or was she a practical, no-nonsense kind of gal? She must have been up for adventure to come so far so young. I like to think that I get some of my wanderlust from her.

Sonia and her oldest daughter almost a century ago.

Though I don't know her whole story, I know one thing for sure-her life was filled with purpose and directed by the sovereign hand of God. No, she never did great things that made her well-known, but rather she did a lot of small things, like change diapers and soothe fussy babies. The greatest thing she is remembered for is walking faithfully with Jesus. Her children heard the gospel from her lips, mostly in Russian with a smattering of broken English here and there. When my own mother was a little girl, Sonia would read aloud to her from her Russian Bible. Sonia taught her children and grandchildren the truth about God. Sonia’s heart trusted the God she could not see. She trusted Him enough to give up all she knew to follow her husband back to his home and raise her children in a foreign country.

I am inspired when I think of Sonia. Her life reminds me that each of us lives in this time in history, in this place and with these people for a purpose that is greater than we realize. When I think of all the variables that may have kept Sonia from even meeting my great-grandfather, let alone marrying him and moving to America, I am amazed that I am even here. How difficult it must have been to move so far away. When I think about how many obstacles could have completely changed the course of an entire family. My grandmother, mother, sister, I and my four daughters may have never existed, and yet, because of the sovereign hand of God, we do. This is when it strikes me deep in my soul that every one of us is on this planet for a reason. It cannot be by accident.

Me with my oldest daughter a decade ago.

This understanding changes the way I see my day to day. Too often, I am overcome by what seems like meaningless, mundane work of laundry and one more story before tucking in little ones at night. But this is why I am here. The path I am walking during my very short time here must be traveled by me. No one else can do what I have been put here to do. To live on this planet with a heart that worships the Father, points others to him, and loves my husband and children in a way that glorifies God-this is why I am here. It isn’t fancy. Like Sonia, I am living a very quiet, unnoticed life, but the way I choose to live it will affect the generations to follow.

When I see the way my children are growing and becoming who God has created them to be, I am humbled by the role I play in raising and discipling them. I see all the ways I am unqualified, but God has chosen me to mother them. I cannot take it lightly. This may be the greatest work of my life. What an honor motherhood is for those of us who are called to it! Too often, I complain. I grow weary in doing good. I forget the legacy of faith that has been built by my ancestral mothers before me, that I am called to pass on to my daughters, and that they will one day pass on to their children.

Isn’t motherhood beautiful? Yes, I know the stretch marks and baggy eyelids are not so lovely, but they give testimony to the hard work to which we have been called. The sacrificing of our bodies and much needed rest for the sake of others.

Sometimes, our purpose requires day in and day out mundane faithfulness that can cause us to feel restless, like we are missing out on something everyone else seems to be a part of. Sometimes, it requires gathering courage we don’t have to step out in faith and move away from all that is familiar, trusting what we cannot see for things that we will never grasp in our lifetime.

Whatever motherhood has been for you, hear me when I say it is not by accident that you are here loving these babies. It is the sovereignty of God that has placed you here, at this time, doing this beautiful work of loving the least of these. Clothing those little naked babes, feeding their hungry bellies, wiping away their sorrow with gentle kisses and reassuring words.

You are beautiful, Mama. 

I like to think of Sonia during my most difficult days. This has been a week of just that. The work is overwhelming, the obstacles have loomed large, my skill is lacking, and my heart is weary. But then I look at my great grandmother’s picture and I wonder…what impact will my faithfulness to this task of mothering have on my great granddaughter? Will she someday look at pictures of me holding my little ones and wonder about me? Will she be encouraged or ashamed by me? By God’s grace, I hope to live in such a way, that the legacy of my faith will inspire generations I will never meet to live wholeheartedly for Christ as God has created and called them to.

My prayer for you today is that you will have eyes to see beyond the dirty diapers and piles of laundry for a moment. May you catch a glimpse of the bigger picture that is being painted through your life by the Master Artist's all-knowing hand. I pray that realizing your steps on this earth are established by God would encourage your heart, regardless of the obstacles you are facing. May you live with unwavering hope, that even if no one else knows your name, your children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren would hear of your faithfulness to God and praise Him for His goodness that is everlasting!

The steps of a man are established by the LORD, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the LORD upholds his hand. I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread. He is ever lending generously, and his children become a blessing. 

 Psalms 37:23-26

Spilled Milk

Happy Friday, my Friends!

Do you feel the holiday train picking up speed yet? I sure do! As we all brace ourselves for the onslaught of holiday festivities, I am reminded of the grace that I so desperately need. The more busy I get, the less patience I have. So not only do I need to receive grace, I need to give grace as well.

As I read through Psalm 103 this morning, I was reminded of one of my posts from earlier this year that deals precisely with that. As I continue to take time this month to reflect on some of the things I have learned this year, I thought I might share this previous post again because frankly, it's a lesson I need to consider often.

Dear Momma, I hope today you and I can both rest in the grace God has provided and invite our children to do the same.

Hugs!

Spilled Milk

In our house, there is no lack of spilled milk. From sippy cups that slowly drip a puddle under the couch, in spite of their leak proof promises, to the full blown torrents of milk that gush from the carton and land on the kitchen counter completely missing the cereal bowl. There have been days when my response has been to roll my eyes and hand the 7 year old a stack of paper towels with a grunted order to clean up her mess. Other days I have compassionately hugged the awkward child who is still learning to do big kid things for herself, and remind her that everyone makes messes and it’s ok, as long as we clean them up.

Admittedly, on my worst days, I yell with scathing words, “I told you to watch what you were doing!” or “If you weren’t bouncing around in your seat you wouldn’t haven’t spilled!”

Sometimes spills are caused by carelessness. Most times they are caused by immaturity. Occasionally, they are caused by a bad decision to do something that one knows they shouldn’t, like climbing on top of the kitchen table to grab their sister’s cookie out of her hand - crash goes the cup of milk. Whatever the cause, when milk spills, what is needed more than the Brawny man, is grace.

I have spilled a lot of milk in my day, from careless words that have injured others, to immature choices that led to unfortunate consequences, and definitely bad decisions to do things that I knew full well I shouldn’t do.  Most of my mistakes though result from absentmindedness. As a teenager, I had a constant tally of demerits in school for forgetting homework or failing to get signatures on parental forms.

I have a daughter who is a lot like me. Her head is always elsewhere, lost in thought, focused on the pictures in her imagination, unaware of what’s right in front of her. She spills a lot of milk too. Like her mother, she requires a lot of grace. Fitting that her middle name is Grace, isn’t it?

However, receiving God’s love and grace can be hard to accept. We know our own depravity too well. We know how far we are from being who we should be. We know how much milk we’ve spilled. It feels better to be punished than to be forgiven. It feels right to receive what we deserve. Go ahead and give us detention, we should have remembered the rules. Our pride does it's work well.

Yet, when we refuse to receive grace, we disdain the work of Christ on the cross, and the justice that it provides. We fail to acknowledge that the punishment for our sin has already been dealt. The wrath of God that we rightly deserve has already been spent. The mess we made (and have yet to make) has already been cleaned up. We think our choices are to pay for our crimes, or take advantage of God’s grace and get off scot free. Our self-righteousness pushes us towards punishment. Our immaturity pushes us to abuse the grace of God.

Neither of those things is the result of God’s grace. When we accept God’s grace through faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus, we are accepting that the crime has been paid for, yet we don’t walk away as though nothing happened. When someone takes a bullet for you, it changes the way you live life moving forward.

Grace abounds when there has been a lot of sin (Romans 5:20), and that grace flows through us to others. We live differently. We see others through the lens of forgiveness and compassion. We worship with more humility because God’s grace brings loving correction that moves us toward changed hearts, rather than final damnation.

The days when I yell at my kids the most for making mistakes are usually days when I am struggling to accept God’s grace for myself. Those are the days that my own depravity looms in front of me, taunting me with the disgusting nature of my own soul. I struggle to accept grace and therefore struggle to give it to others.

But those days when my eyes are fixed on Jesus, and the loveliness of his work fills my view, I am quick to offer grace to the offensiveness of others. When my kids spill their milk literally, I am reminded of the milk I have spilled metaphorically, and I am delighted to show my kids what God’s grace looks like as I clean up their mess and hold them tight, whispering “It’s ok, Mommy will help you”. And as I help them clean up I can gently teach them again what they need to do differently in order to spill less in the future. I disciple them as Jesus disciples me.

I have lost count of how many times the Father has cleaned up my mess, held me tight, and whispered, “Don’t worry, Sweet One. My Son has already cleaned it up for you.”I have watched as the hands still bearing the scars of my sin have graciously mopped up the spills in my life with his own blood. Me… His enemy! How can I not extend this same grace to my own children, my husband, my brothers and sisters in Christ and especially the lost who need a representation of God’s forgiveness? We all make a lot of mistakes. We do not need to cringe in fear of the punishment we know we deserve. Rather, we look to our Heavenly Father, who loves us, even when we spill our milk.

My prayer for both of us today, is that we will accept God’s grace. We may want to argue that we don’t deserve it and we’d be right. I pray that the pain of humility that comes with receiving a gift one does not deserve will not keep us from embracing it completely. I pray that our pride will not convince us to try to bear our own punishment, but rather rely on Jesus’ payment for our sin. I pray that we will know, that in spite of all the milk we’ve spilled, Jesus loves us deeply. He is not waiting to scold us harshly for our mistakes. See how patiently he cleans it up? I pray we will have the grace to do the same for our sweet babies, so that they may see God’s love and grace through the kindness of their own mommies who are trusting in the saving grace of Jesus.

Bless the LORD...who forgives all your iniquity...who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy...The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us. As a father shows compassion to his children so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust...Bless the LORD.                

Psalm 103

For further encouragement:

Luke 7:44-50