Friday, February 19, 2010
Kyle's Top Ten Questions for Jesus
Kyle has the gift of questioning...don't all kids though? His questions aren't aimed to annoy or simply to just hear himself talk. He truly wants answers. I answer as I can but you can imagine that most of my answers just prompt more thought-provoking questions. Here are the lastest, most common questions in no particular order...
(1) Why did Adam and Eve eat the apple? But why did they get tempted?
(2) What was wrong with that apple?
(3) How many years ago did Jesus die?
(4) Why was Herod bad? Why didn't he like Jesus?
(5) But where are the bad angels? Are they in this world?
(6) Are the good angels also in this world?
(7) But why did Satan not want to listen to God? Why did he want to be bad?
(8) Can the bad angels get into heaven now? (Upon answering 'no,' he sighed and said, 'okay, I can go to heaven then.')
(9) But where are the bad people? Are they in this world or a different world?
(10) If Jesus took away my sins when he died, then why do we still sin?
That last question brought on a huge Two Kingdom Theology discussion I never dreamed I'd be having with my 4 1/2 year old. Goodness, I don't understand most of the answers either--how puzzling it must be to him. Or maybe not. Maybe he just takes it at face value, the way Jesus calls us to, faith like a child.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Tune My Heart To Sing Thy Praise
I'm working on allowing myself to blog even if it's not going to be perfect. Actually, I'm forcing myself to write because I haven't in so long--no excuses, but David being in Europe since last Tuesday hasn't helped me have the energy to write. Usually by the time I sit down to write, I've been blogging in my head. I think a cool device would be a brain-reader, something I could hook up to my brain and it'd write my blog for me. I used to write college lit papers and form thesis statements in my head well before it got to paper. If you ever see me talking to myself in the car, I'm blogging, not talking to any voices in my head. I do that only when I'm alone in my closet.
So this blog was written in my head last Thursday night. But I'll back up, last Tuesday night, I went to Figgy Sisters at my church. We're a group of women, all different ages, experiences, and backgrounds, and we come together with no agenda, other than to invoke the Holy Spirit to move us to minister to each other. There is no set timeline, no bible study, unless we're moved to read the Word to each other. We have a time of worship and there is freedom to worship in any manner you feel led to. There's sharing, crying, laughing, and praying. It's a time for women to just 'be' at the feet of Jesus with no other responsibility but to sit and be in his presence. It's a powerful thing.
A theme that emerged was the usage of worship in our walk at any given moment during our day when we feel the need to call upon Jesus for help. Worship draws us into His presence and can bring His power into the situation. I absolutely believe that. I can think of many times when putting on worship music in the car and singing was just what the kids needed...and what I needed. I didn't realize our discussion at Figgy Sisters was going to be a super-cool reality 48 hours later.
Kyle had not rested well that afternoon, but surprisingly, he was handling the lack of sleep well, or so I thought. Kyle's body doesn't do what most kids' bodies do when they're tired. He doesn't grow quiet. He doesn't become sluggish. His brain tells his body to do the exact opposite. Sleep calms our senses down and gives them a rest. It's good for our bodies. So when Kyle doesn't have it, you can imagine how wacky it can get. We noticed a few years ago that fatigue caused him to go into hyper-mode. And that is what I witnessed at dusk that day when I was pitching baseballs to him. To my surprise, the fatigue overload and the kinesthetic delight of playing ball led him to begin whacking himself repeatedly in his head with his baseball bat. I knew he wasn't angry. He was having fun with us in the yard. But his body was starting to misfire. I realized we needed to clean up the yard and head on in. Within minutes, Kyle's body was starting to go into meltdown mode. I ended up herding both kids indoors while I ran around picking up toys. Upon entering the house, Kyle was running in circles like a hamster in a cage and running into the couch repeatedly. You might think I'd get upset at this. I don't. It's in those moments when my heart aches for him because I know he can't control it and his body is screaming to give it rest.
I managed to get them occupied watching a show while I finished up dinner and wondered how many meals had we survived with a very tired boy trudging through the meal. I took advantange of my two quiet children on the couch to dart around the downstairs emptying the trash and quickly scurried to the can outside to drop it off. I could already tell my pulse was rising because I knew I had a long hour ahead of me as I moved him through the routine of dinner, bath, and bedtime. It was dark out by now and as I turned away from the trashcan to make my way around our porch in the dark, I called out to God to strengthen me and in a flash the words to "Come Thou Fount" ran through my head and across my heart.
Come thou fount of every blessing
tune my heart to sing thy praise
Streams of mercy never ceasing
call for songs of loudest praise.
Tune my heart to sing thy praise. That line kept running over and over and I knew it was a Figgy moment revisited. The supernatural power of the God of the universe reminded me that mercy flows like streams when my heart is tuned to sing praise to Jesus. I knew in my heart that the Spirit had moved and had given me the strength to get through the arduous task of the next sixty minutes.
It only took about twenty seconds to get back to the house but in that short timespan, the Lord spoke those song lyrics to my heart and reminded me that the thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy. And he enjoys setting his traps at night.
It makes sense, doesn't it? I wonder how many family dramas play out after dusk settles in. How many fights occurs at the dinner table or just prior or just after? How many conflicts surface during the bedtime/homework routine of the evening? Satan tempted Jesus in the desert when his body was tired and hungry. He was lonely and drained. The demands on his time in the desert had caught up with him. He was tired of being strong. And the fasting from food and friends had started to take a toll on him. Enter Satan.
I have found myself to be at my weakest in the evenings. I see in my children they are naturally at their weakest in the evening. The enemy comes to steal family time. He comes to destroy conversations and relationships. He comes to kill the hope that we perhaps drew from all day long as we interacted with people or went to a bible study or drew from the well of Jesus during our own devotional time.
There has been a movement in evangelical Christianity which I first heard about in college--the concept of quiet time. Countless books have been written on this subject. It isn't anything new. Jesus did it quiet often, withdrew to be alone with the Lord. My exposure to this discipline though was legalistic and felt like the morning was the only time you could 'do it right.' I'm not against this. I often have 'quiet time.' Sometimes it's when I lock myself in the bathroom! My kids think I'm just taking care of business, but seriously, how many of have prayed on the porceline throne? I think Jesus understands that.
Over the last two weeks, coinciding right before David went out of town, would you believe Satan has enjoyed destroying my morning practice of prayer as my children have gotten up earlier and earlier and interrupted that time? I knew as the spiritual covering of our home left the country that we would be vulnerable and I have been praying for protection over our hearts here. Never a coincidence when we carve out space for Jesus and then things get turned upside down to destroy that space. But I think there is room to look at turning to Jesus with intensity at our weakest time of the day, which for many of us, I believe is evening just prior to dinner, when our bodies are started to feel the fatigue of the day and our minds are just spent and yet are racing with what is still undone for the day's tasks. And the evening often is when married couples have their deepest conversations or at least attempt to do so.
Wow, this was a long post. Obviously it's been mulling over in my brain for several days now. The brain is amazing thing isn't it? I won't blog about this right now, but singing praises (or any song for that matter) is a powerful thing to do in a moment when you feel like you're about to 'lose it' or start going down a path in your mind that isn't healthy or of Jesus. It awakens the frontal region of your brain and helps calm down that mid-brain, the part of our mind that is reactive and reptilian. But I'll blog about that some other time. So take a few deep breaths. Sing a song--any song will work, although I'm partial to a little David Crowder or Nicole C. Mullen.
So this blog was written in my head last Thursday night. But I'll back up, last Tuesday night, I went to Figgy Sisters at my church. We're a group of women, all different ages, experiences, and backgrounds, and we come together with no agenda, other than to invoke the Holy Spirit to move us to minister to each other. There is no set timeline, no bible study, unless we're moved to read the Word to each other. We have a time of worship and there is freedom to worship in any manner you feel led to. There's sharing, crying, laughing, and praying. It's a time for women to just 'be' at the feet of Jesus with no other responsibility but to sit and be in his presence. It's a powerful thing.
A theme that emerged was the usage of worship in our walk at any given moment during our day when we feel the need to call upon Jesus for help. Worship draws us into His presence and can bring His power into the situation. I absolutely believe that. I can think of many times when putting on worship music in the car and singing was just what the kids needed...and what I needed. I didn't realize our discussion at Figgy Sisters was going to be a super-cool reality 48 hours later.
Kyle had not rested well that afternoon, but surprisingly, he was handling the lack of sleep well, or so I thought. Kyle's body doesn't do what most kids' bodies do when they're tired. He doesn't grow quiet. He doesn't become sluggish. His brain tells his body to do the exact opposite. Sleep calms our senses down and gives them a rest. It's good for our bodies. So when Kyle doesn't have it, you can imagine how wacky it can get. We noticed a few years ago that fatigue caused him to go into hyper-mode. And that is what I witnessed at dusk that day when I was pitching baseballs to him. To my surprise, the fatigue overload and the kinesthetic delight of playing ball led him to begin whacking himself repeatedly in his head with his baseball bat. I knew he wasn't angry. He was having fun with us in the yard. But his body was starting to misfire. I realized we needed to clean up the yard and head on in. Within minutes, Kyle's body was starting to go into meltdown mode. I ended up herding both kids indoors while I ran around picking up toys. Upon entering the house, Kyle was running in circles like a hamster in a cage and running into the couch repeatedly. You might think I'd get upset at this. I don't. It's in those moments when my heart aches for him because I know he can't control it and his body is screaming to give it rest.
I managed to get them occupied watching a show while I finished up dinner and wondered how many meals had we survived with a very tired boy trudging through the meal. I took advantange of my two quiet children on the couch to dart around the downstairs emptying the trash and quickly scurried to the can outside to drop it off. I could already tell my pulse was rising because I knew I had a long hour ahead of me as I moved him through the routine of dinner, bath, and bedtime. It was dark out by now and as I turned away from the trashcan to make my way around our porch in the dark, I called out to God to strengthen me and in a flash the words to "Come Thou Fount" ran through my head and across my heart.
Come thou fount of every blessing
tune my heart to sing thy praise
Streams of mercy never ceasing
call for songs of loudest praise.
Tune my heart to sing thy praise. That line kept running over and over and I knew it was a Figgy moment revisited. The supernatural power of the God of the universe reminded me that mercy flows like streams when my heart is tuned to sing praise to Jesus. I knew in my heart that the Spirit had moved and had given me the strength to get through the arduous task of the next sixty minutes.
It only took about twenty seconds to get back to the house but in that short timespan, the Lord spoke those song lyrics to my heart and reminded me that the thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy. And he enjoys setting his traps at night.
It makes sense, doesn't it? I wonder how many family dramas play out after dusk settles in. How many fights occurs at the dinner table or just prior or just after? How many conflicts surface during the bedtime/homework routine of the evening? Satan tempted Jesus in the desert when his body was tired and hungry. He was lonely and drained. The demands on his time in the desert had caught up with him. He was tired of being strong. And the fasting from food and friends had started to take a toll on him. Enter Satan.
I have found myself to be at my weakest in the evenings. I see in my children they are naturally at their weakest in the evening. The enemy comes to steal family time. He comes to destroy conversations and relationships. He comes to kill the hope that we perhaps drew from all day long as we interacted with people or went to a bible study or drew from the well of Jesus during our own devotional time.
There has been a movement in evangelical Christianity which I first heard about in college--the concept of quiet time. Countless books have been written on this subject. It isn't anything new. Jesus did it quiet often, withdrew to be alone with the Lord. My exposure to this discipline though was legalistic and felt like the morning was the only time you could 'do it right.' I'm not against this. I often have 'quiet time.' Sometimes it's when I lock myself in the bathroom! My kids think I'm just taking care of business, but seriously, how many of have prayed on the porceline throne? I think Jesus understands that.
Over the last two weeks, coinciding right before David went out of town, would you believe Satan has enjoyed destroying my morning practice of prayer as my children have gotten up earlier and earlier and interrupted that time? I knew as the spiritual covering of our home left the country that we would be vulnerable and I have been praying for protection over our hearts here. Never a coincidence when we carve out space for Jesus and then things get turned upside down to destroy that space. But I think there is room to look at turning to Jesus with intensity at our weakest time of the day, which for many of us, I believe is evening just prior to dinner, when our bodies are started to feel the fatigue of the day and our minds are just spent and yet are racing with what is still undone for the day's tasks. And the evening often is when married couples have their deepest conversations or at least attempt to do so.
Wow, this was a long post. Obviously it's been mulling over in my brain for several days now. The brain is amazing thing isn't it? I won't blog about this right now, but singing praises (or any song for that matter) is a powerful thing to do in a moment when you feel like you're about to 'lose it' or start going down a path in your mind that isn't healthy or of Jesus. It awakens the frontal region of your brain and helps calm down that mid-brain, the part of our mind that is reactive and reptilian. But I'll blog about that some other time. So take a few deep breaths. Sing a song--any song will work, although I'm partial to a little David Crowder or Nicole C. Mullen.
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