Faithful God, Untrusting People

Today I read from Exodus chapters 13-15. The Israelites had seen the plagues God sent upon Egypt, and the last one should have been fresh in their minds – how all of the firstborn of Egypt (human and animal) were killed except for Israel’s children, simply through blood on the thresholds of their doorways and the Lord’s protection.

They saw how Pharaoh had relented and let them go, how the Egyptians gave them clothing and gold, so that they left slavery with more than they actually owned. All of this occurred through God’s mighty power – after 430 years in Egypt, He heard their prayers and freed them from slavery in a huge, memorable way.

Yet a few short days (weeks? Hours?) later, we find them terrified as they see the Egyptian army chasing them. Granted, the approach of 600 chariots would strike fear into our hearts too. But hadn’t they just seen God’s mighty hand at work? Did they truly believe He had abandoned them now? Or did they think He was sleeping or somehow unable to defeat this mighty army?

“What is this you have done? We would rather be Egyptian slaves than die in the desert!” they cried.

What weak hearts.  What nonexistent faith. The proof of God's presence was right before their eyes – the pillar of cloud by day, the pillar of fire by night. Yet they either forgot Him or felt He would no longer protect them or that He was somehow inadequate against the Egyptian army.

It’s a good thing Moses, their leader, believed God. He encouraged the people in spite of their grumbling. And all of them saw – once again – the Lord’s deliverance in that situation. How could they not see it?

The wind divided the sea and the Israelites walked through on dry sandy soil, with a wall of water to their left and to their right. And after they had all passed through, as the Egyptians pursued them, the Lord closed the sea and not a single Egyptian survived.

Then all of Israel rejoiced and praised God. For a few minutes, anyway. Until they became thirsty and hungry and the grumbling started again.

I find the Israelites' faith so weak, so easy to criticize - and yet somehow familiar.  Were I in their shoes, I would praise God and trust Him to take care of me. Or would I?

The bitter South Dakota winters bring out the worst in me. Though I grumble throughout the year, in this season I become a chronic whiner. I lash out verbally against the wind, the snow, the cold, to anyone who will listen. (And many who won’t. My daughters tire of hearing it.)

I told my husband yesterday that if he were to die, it would take me only ten minutes to move to a state with better weather. He laughed. “I guess I’d best keep our assets easy to sell, since you'll need cash.”

But, whether I like it or not, complaining is sinful. The Israelites’ complaints and my gripes are all in the same category. When I rail against the weather, or the large disasters or small inconveniences of my day, I seek my immediate comfort.  I forget His past goodness, His continued presence, and His future promises.

It’s as if I’m saying, “Lord, I don’t like where You’ve placed me. I don’t trust You to work this to my good. I don’t want to learn the lessons You want to teach me here.”

In the process of becoming Christlike, I have so many miles yet to go.

Father, Help me to learn from the Israelites. Help me to stop fighting You and to relax, trusting that You will work all things for my good as part of Your kingdom. Let me focus on all that You have done for me and trust in Your loving plan for my future.  Forgive my sinful, complaining spirit, and help my words to be fruitful and sweet.  Amen.

The missing lamb

"You number and record my wanderings; put my tears into Your bottle - are they not in Your book?" - Psalm 56:8, Amplified Bible

It's just a stuffed animal.  Just a little white stuffed lamb, about seven  inches tall, with white fur, black button eyes, furry black feet, and a little pink button nose.  A child's plaything, a little girl's joy.  So why does it move me so?

A picture enters my mind.  I squint through the haze, seeking clarity.  The photograph is now black and white, the blurriness gone.  A little girl with long hair and a big smile.  She wears a checkered coat and clutches to her chin this stuffed white lamb.

The girl is my sister at age four.  From days of long ago, when we played and laughed and fought and shared a room.  Long before the stresses of divorce and money worries and single motherhood etched lines deep into her face, around her eyes.  Long before the struggles and fights began with her son.  Long before he took her from us in her sleep.  That was four years ago.

Mom went through old boxes this past month and set some things aside that she thought I might want.  Pillowcases lovingly embroidered by my grandmother, who went to heaven the same year Judy did.  Jewelry from years past.  And the little white lamb.

I cannot stop looking at it, thinking of her.  The one who missed me so much when I moved out of state.  Who I argued with as Mom's health grew worse - why do you stay away?  Because I can't bear to think of life without Mom!  Little did we know that Judy would leave us first.

The one who left such a huge aching gap in our hearts and our lives.  Even now when I see a woman with long sandy blond hair, my breath catches in my throat.  Is it her?  No, I remember, Judy isn't here.  She is with Jesus now.

Some people just slip quietly, peacefully away in their sleep.  Others are taken from us violently, leaving pain and questions and sobs and prison visits in their wake.  I know Judy was glad to leave her life of worry, to find peace with her Savior.  I only wish I had known it would be so soon.

So I am left behind, with grieving parents and a nephew imprisoned for life and far too few reminders of the little girl who was.  The one my youngest daughter no longer remembers.  Will I forget one day too?  How many times did I dial her cell phone those first few weeks just to hear her voice on the recorded message?  May I never forget!

I hold the little lamb close, and I look at her ring on my finger, and I resolve that my life will count.  That it will be fully lived.  Nothing reminds us not to waste our minutes like the life of a loved one taken rudely, much too soon.

Lord, capture my tears in Your bottle, and hug Judy for me.  Tell her I can't wait to see her again, and help me to live wisely until that day.


He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young. -Isaiah 40:11

Putting aside idols

When the people saw how long it was taking Moses to come back down the mountain, they gathered around Aaron.  "Come on," they said, "make us some gods who can lead us. We don't know what happened to this fellow Moses, who brought us here from the land of Egypt." -Exodus 32:1

Even as Moses was receiving the law from the Lord's own hand, the Israelites were rebelling against God at the foot of the mountain.  

How is it, we ask, that the Israelites could witness God’s incredible salvation - the plagues of Egypt, ending with death; salvation at the Red Sea; manna and quail from heaven to meet daily needs - and still give up on Him and Moses, asking Aaron to build them a golden calf to worship?  These people have no memory.  Surely we would not make the same mistakes. 

But of course the story of God’s people is my story as well.  How often do I fail to trust in the Lord, instead trying to build other gods – security, writing, my husband, work – into my life and worship them?  Not that I actually bow down to them, but idol worship can also be defined as giving them more time and energy than I give the Lord, and taking sanctuary in them instead of in the Lord Most High.  I must confess that I do this far too often.

Lord, I need - we all need - Your help to (1) SEE when this is happening – please put Your finger on it and say, Beloved, THIS is what you are doing, taking refuge in these instead of in Me. 

Next, we need Your help to (2) STOP this from happening and rededicate ourselves to You. 

Then please help us (3) SEEK Your guidance and direction in giving these things proper place in our lives, in subjection to You.  You must always be supreme in my life, supreme over these things... because that is Your rightful place, and because only in putting You first can there be peace and order in my life.

Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and He will give you everything you need. - Matthew 6:33, The Message

What idols compete with God for your time, money, and attention?

Jesus loves me

Last night I went to sleep reading Brennan Manning’s Ragamuffin Gospel. Or at least the first few chapters of it, since that’s the size of the sample I downloaded to my Kindle.

Now I am going to have to buy the actual book because of its fresh perspective – actually, its fresh reminder – of the true message of the Gospel. As opposed to the message most of us think is the Gospel.

We Christians know that we are saved by God’s grace alone.  But most of the time, we live as though salvation depended on us.

Of course, that’s not the way we THINK we live.  Satan’s lies are much too subtle, because he knows if we saw them plainly we would recognize and reject them.

But when we "tsk" at the person who wears cutoffs and a tank top to a church service… when we feel a weight of guilt because we skipped prayer group and haven’t spent alone time in the Bible for a few days…when we are afraid to show our Christian friends who we truly are, but mask our struggles and our feelings and our hearts instead… we are living as if salvation depended on us, upon our good works. And that’s not the Gospel according to the Bible.

The message of the Gospel is not just good news. It’s great news. It’s the Best. News. Ever.

Even if I didn’t spend time in the Word this morning, or this week, or this year…
Jesus loves me.

When I lose my Mother of the Year award because I forgot to pick someone up from volleyball practice,
or played a computer game instead of doing the dishes,
or said things to my kids I swore I’d never say…
Jesus loves me.

When I choose to skip an opportunity to say something nice - or help someone who’s struggling -
just because I don't feel like doing the right thing,
Jesus loves me.

And He loves you too.

Even when you wear cutoffs and a tank top to church,
or a cuss word escapes from your lips,
or you’re just not sure about this Christianity thing,
or you’ve messed up so badly you are sure you can never be forgiven,
Jesus loves you.

How do I know? The Bible tells me so.


God demonstrates his love for us in this:
while we were still sinners,
Christ died for us.
-Romans 5:8, NIV

I love the way the Message says it:


God put his love on the line for us
by offering his son in sacrificial death
while we were of no use whatever to him.

The message of forgiveness and freedom through Christ is not just for those who don’t yet believe.

It’s also for the broken and discouraged and sinful ones who sit in the pew every Sunday. The ones who think, if you really knew me, you wouldn’t sit so close to me.

In Christ we are all truly free.  So when will we start living like it?

Our dreams or God's dreams?

"I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better
life than they ever dreamed of." - John 10:10 (The Message)

This week I've been going through boxes in our basement, trying to clean up a bit.  Some of those boxes belong to my oldest daughter, an Army lieutenant who will be home for a few days next month before her unit heads to Iraq.  I decided to work on her boxes now to save her some time and also because I know it will be much harder for me emotionally to do this after she deploys.

Jess is a prime example of how God's paths for our children can be so different than our own dreams for them.  A lifelong musician, she joined the local National Guard band in high school because she loved to play and wanted to earn money for college.  She left for basic training two days after graduating from high school.  I remember begging God for nine weeks to "please let her survive Basic!"  She had never been an athlete, wasn't in prime physical shape, and had never expressed interest in military service before then.

Jess not only survived Basic - she thrived.  To my amazement, she fell in love with Army life during those nine weeks.  After returning home, she was bored at college and one day found the website for the US Military Academy at West Point, NY.  She became determined to get into West Point, and she succeeded.  She even met her future spouse there - a fellow South Dakotan - and married Craig on graduation day.

Now she's a lieutenant in the medical services branch, stationed at Fort Hood, TX, and heading to Iraq in August for her first deployment.  Craig's unit is also being deployed, and they hope to be able to share a CHU (housing quarters) or at least see each other now and then.

This is not the life I would have chosen for Jess.  I would have chosen a life of music, spent close to home, close to me.  God chose a life of service to country for her, service to soldiers as a leader, a life far from me.  Though it will not be easy, especially when she is overseas and in harm's way, I know His choice is the better one.

I have watched Jess blossom and grow these past few years.  She loves her husband, and he treats her like a queen.  She loves her job (a good thing, since she works 14-hour days) and is a fierce advocate for the soldiers in her platoon.  She has seen places I only read about (Egypt, Vietnam, Thailand, France, and soon Iraq) and lived experiences I can scarcely imagine (20-mile foot marches, throwing hand grenades and shooting rifles, even skydiving with a free fall!).  And when we talk, I hear her enthusiasm, her passion for life.

As moms we want our kids to be safe, to take the easier way, free of pain and sacrifice.  It's in our nature.  But when the Lord tells them, "Come, take My hand, and see everything I have in store for you," would we really choose instead to clip their wings and hold them close to us?

I'd rather have my daughter love her life and live out her dreams than force her to live my dreams for her.  Because this way, even if she is taken from us by an enemy bullet or IED, at least she will have fully lived.

Lord, help us to pray daily for our kids.  And let us pray not for our will to be done in their lives, but for Your will to be done.  Help us tuck them softly, confidently into Your loving arms, knowing that they do not belong to us, but to You.  In Jesus's name, amen.

The Crown of His Creation

"The earth is the LORD's, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it." -Psalm 24:1.

We were blessed to spend a week in Hawaii earlier this month, and I was amazed in new ways at the beauty God has placed on earth.  I saw hundreds of plants I've never seen - evergreens with needles that appear to grow upside down! a flower that looks like an ugly ribbon! mango and pineapple plants! - plus birds I have never seen before.  I snorkeled near Black Rock on Maui and saw dozens of fish I had never seen before, each with its own particular beauty and design, the stamp of God's creativity.  The terrain was absolutely gorgeous - mountains and rivers and waterfalls and that azure ocean, light sands and volcanos - so unique, unlike anything I've seen elsewhere in the States - more like an exotic new continent!  And I marveled at the God who could pour all of this beauty into our world simply by His Words - "let there be..." - whose creativity is beyond anything we could ever master or even imagine.

And yet, despite the bursts of color and light and detail, despite the overwhelming variety and beauty of all these things He created, He calls us the crown of His creation?  Sinful man?  Lowly, sinful ME?  How can this be?  How blessed we truly are!

Lord, give us eyes to see anew the beauty of our world, the splendor of Your design, the vastness of Your creative heart.  Bring us to our knees in worship for the One Who created all of this, yet loves each of us enough to give Your most precious Son so that we could know You and love You and spend eternity with you.  In Jesus' name we pray.  Amen.

Not popular

My heart is breaking for my little one today. The one with the deep love for Jesus, with the bubbly laugh and tender spirit. The one so easily wounded by the words and snubs of her classmates, by her sister’s sharp tongue, by a stern word from her father. A tender spirit is easy prey, an endangered species in this harsh world.

School ends at noon today, and I’m picking up my girls (plus their desk contents) for lunch and shopping. But this morning I mentioned that if they get invited to go home with a friend, they can, and we’ll just shop another day.

“I’ll probably get an invitation from Sue,” said my oldest. “She always wants me over.”

“I’m sure I won’t get an invitation,” said my youngest. “Nobody invites me over.”

My heart clenched at the small, sad voice. It’s true. She’s got a great fifth-grade class with lots of kind, friendly girls. Much better than her third-grade classroom at a different school, where she was constantly bullied verbally, where I reacted with shock when her teacher described her as quiet. “Quiet?” I asked. “She has never been quiet.” Then the story came out, of how the other girls intimidated and mocked her on the playground each day.

We moved her from that school to the Christian school. Not because it’s perfect (kids are kids; we all have a sinful nature), but because character development is a greater focus there. If someone is picking on my child, I want that to be addressed, and not in a “toughen up and get used to it; that’s life” manner. Sin occurs in our Christian school, but the teachers deal with it, because Christ-likeness is the goal.

But although her classmates are kind, they have their groups. There’s the popular group, the go-getters who are always hanging out together and laughing. And there’s the other group – the three girls who wish they were in the first group, but aren’t. My daughter is in the second group.

So although we’ve had each girl over to our house for playdates several times, and they always seem to have fun (based on smiles, laughter, and effusive thanks when it’s time to go home), they rarely reciprocate. When a group of girls piles into a mom’s car to go over to one of their houses, my daughter is never in that group. And it hurts her. It hurts ME.

Growing up, I was not in the “in crowd,” though I was often on its fringes looking in, hoping to join. Most years I only had one friend, and some years, those friends were not very nice. It was a great relief when high school arrived: I found my role and talents and niche and stopped caring so much about popularity. It was great to move on, to leave behind that “not good enough” feeling.

I’m not someone who longs for the good old days of my youth, simply because each year brings new friends, new horizons, more opportunities, more joy. Sure, there are times I feel unpopular nowadays, when all the other mothers sit together at my girls' sporting events and hold vivacious conversations around me (but rarely with me).  But when that happens I just hold on to Jesus a little tighter and thank Him for the "loner" personality that He uses mightily in my writing.

I gladly said goodbye to my younger years, finding more riches in Christ each year, and hoped I’d never see them again.  Nobody told me that I would experience them again through the heartaches and sorrows of my children. Just one more reason to spend many hours on my knees before the throne of grace.

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. - Psalm 34:18