Lava Lamps and Women

The longer I’m married the more clearly I see I am like a lava lamp and my husband is like, well, a regular lamp. (For the purposes of this analogy only. Not trying to impune his originality or creativity. In case he reads this.) So a regular lamp is only “on” when you turn it on. Otherwise it’s off. Very straightforward. It shines at one level of brightness, or is completely dark. A lava lamp on the other hand has all these globs of who know’s what (?!) floating around in varying stages of light and it changes constantly. Kind of mesmorizing but also, not exactly the best light to say, read or sew or look for your missing birth control pill that fell out of your hand onto the floor (happened this morning).

So, in my world, when I start off my day it’s like turning on my lava lamp brain. All these pieces of information begin moving around in my mind bumping into each other and sometimes combining into new ideas. One thought sparks another, often unrelated to the current thought at hand, and I just add to the globs as the day goes on. So, if for example, I’m thinking about “did I remember to send in Klynt’s football forms”, it leads to “I’m going to have to change my counseling hours when football season starts so I can be at the games”, which leads to “what am I planning for dinner tonight”. (Because last year during football season, planning dinners on game nights was challenging.) Which then leads to a deeper thought on “whether I’m doing a good job balancing caring for my family and working” and “do they feel nurtured” and “are we really sharing meals together the way I believe is good”.

And all this goes on between the time I wake up and pour my first cup of coffee.

 Enter my husband, sleepy and non-globby brained who is, at the moment, thinking “Breakfast“. He then asks, “do we have any of that good juice left that I liked?” It’s really an innocent question, but unfortunately for him he just threw a blob in my lamp that hit my last thought about not knowing if my family feels nurtured. New blob: defensiveness. “Well, we would have more but our grocery budget only stretches so far and I told you if you’d drink a little less we wouldn’t run out.” Poor guy just wanted a glass of juice. He looks at me like I’m sort of cute and cranky and continues about the process of breakfast. My husband is unfailingly patient.

Meanwhile 3 new blobs have appeared including: guilt “I was being defensive for no good reason”, time “I have got to get Emma moving or we’ll never get out the door” and football forms have reappeared “must ask Klynt if I gave him the forms”. Now that I’m more awake the blobs get brighter and move around faster, but they’re all still there. In fact, that little blob of guilt will reemerge when I see my husband later that evening. Now here’s the proof that he doesn’t carry all his thoughts about everything he is connected to all day in his brain: when I apologize for being defensive in the morning, he will inevitably ask “for what?” Every time. He had turned that thought off as soon as he finished breakfast: “Cranky wife” was replaced with “Shower and Get to Work”, and it never reappeared. I love this about him for many reasons.

Thankfully, the Lord is always moving around in my mind as well. Reminding me which blobs to throw out, which ones to pay attention to and that he created me this way for a good purpose.

Beyond the Storm Closet

Every spring I enjoy certain traditions. I like to give the house a good cleaning. I start thinking about planting flowers. And because I live in middle TN, I clear out our tornado closet. (This is more a necessity than a favorite.) We happen to live in a very volatile springtime area. In fact, just three days ago we were set to hunker down in our closet, if needed. Which all got me thinking about how we survive the metaphorical storms in our life, that can and often do, come during all seasons.

God’s word has much to say about this, and this is certainly not all of it, but a few things to remember, if you or someone you love is in a stormy season:

1. Don’t try to explain the “why” as a way to prove God’s plan or purpose.
When Job went through his lengthy trial, one of the ways his friends tried to help was to offer their theories on why he was suffering. (They got chastised by God himself for this, by the way.) But, I think I understand their dilemma. When someone we love is suffering, and we watch their discouragement, we want to help them make sense of it all. I think we even feel pressured to make sure God doesn’t “look bad”. So we theorize. We come up with plausible explanations for why this is being allowed.  The main problem with this is: we don’t know why! Isaiah 55:8 tells us that our ways and thoughts are not God’s ways and thoughts. A much better approach is to go back to the cross. At the cross, all issues of God’s goodness and love for us are settled. “He who did not spare his own son, but gave him up for us all- how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (Rom. 8:32) The proof of God’s love for you is found in knowing there was no length He would not go to, in order to create a way for you to come back to Him. If he was willing to sacrifice his own son, then what good thing will he withhold? Our perspective on suffering must be filtered through the lens of the gospel. We may not ever know why- but we can be confident that God loves us and is working for our good and His glory in ALL things (Rom. 8:28).

2. Don’t go through it alone.
So often, we try to ride out the storms in silence, not wanting to bother or burden others. But the bible is clear that we are to “share one another’s burdens” (Gal 6:2). When we go through crisis or struggle, often we are in shock. Our thinking is not always clear. We need stronger, loving people around us to guide us and encourage us, until we get back on our feet.

3. Cry out to God.
When the disciples were in the boat and Jesus was sleeping below, and the biggest storm of the season blew in, they cried out to Jesus. Not the most poetic of prayers either- they actually woke him up with the question, “Don’t you care that we are going to drown!?” (Mark 4:37-39) This is what I love about that story- we don’t come to God in our strength to “wow” Him into helping us in a crisis. Just come to Him! In your brokenness, doubt, fear, faithlessness, weakness and vulnerability- cry out! As he did for the disciples, he will do for you. Jesus offers peace that is not based on circumstances. Phil. 4:7 calls this a “peace which transcends all understanding”. That means, it makes no sense, but we experience it all the same. Sometimes, Jesus calms the storm. Sometimes he calms your heart in the middle of it, while the storm rages on. It’s God’s miraculous work, but it is real. I see it all the time in the lives of clients, friends and even in myself.

4. Take care of your own needs.
When we go through a trial or crisis, sometimes we just forget to eat. Or sleep. Or pay bills. (Another reason for point 2- see above). But if we follow Jesus’ example throughout the gospels, we see Him take care of what his body needed to keep going. Sometimes he stopped to rest. Sometimes he sent the disciples to get him some food. He delegated responsibility. He slept and prayed and sent people away when he needed time alone. When you are in a stormy season, set limits on what you can and can’t do. Spend time alone with God. Spend time caring for your basic needs. Ask for what you can’t do for yourself.

The old expression says, “March comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb.”  When you are in a trial or storm, remember this: The Lion of Judah has marched into the darkest battle ever waged on your behalf and came out victorious! There is no storm you face God cannot see you through.Beyond the Storm Closet

Debi Russell- Warrior Princess

New friends in India who learned the good news of Hope in Jesus as we sat and talked together.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.” (2Cor. 4:7-9) 

Today I have one simple, but true thought: The King of the Universe houses His very Spirit in me. I don’t deserve it, I didn’t earn it and I can’t get rid of it if I try. And, because of His Spirit, it is shocking and outrageous what this middle-aged, small framed, slightly mushy mom of three can do. I do battle, face giants, overcome temptation and walk in victory- even on days when I screw up, sin  and fail royally. Maybe especially on those days. Because the bottom line is it’s not my power, wisdom, talent or righteousness that saves me or anyone else. Sometimes I want to rely on those traits, but when my heart is lined up with reality I know better. I do not want it to be my own strength I’m counting on when the chips are down. But by His Spirit I do not walk in fear. I do not become hopeless. I do not believe the lies that “I can’t stand this” or “My life isn’t making a difference”  or “I’m all alone in this battle.” 

There is a dark, hurting, disillusioned and broken world out there. Sin and pain run rampant and  people do horrible things to one another. Jesus did not lay down his life for me so I could enjoy a cozy, comfy existence. We’re in a battle and our weapons aren’t bullets, political slogans or t-shirts. They’re faith, hope and love. We don’t fight against people- we fight for them. And we don’t seek victory for our sake, but for His glory. 

Learning to Let Go of the 1st Born

K arrived home last night from his Spring break adventure in Destin with a friends whose family generously invited him to be a guest on their trip. He had the usual avalanche of stories to share: silly teenage boy stuff, complaints about stuff that he found annoying, observations about how kids who are “only children” experience a completely different life than he has (“The parents kept asking where WE wanted to go to dinner! It was so weird…”)

Then he told me about a story related to his latest passion, signing. (Not the sign-flipping you see people doing on the side of the road, but Sign Language)

As he was relaying this story his eyes teared up a little and he talked about how he felt God’s peace come over him. I know that feeling. The first time I experienced it was while carrying my first born out of his appointment from the neurologist. I had just been told rather bluntly that my baby boy would never jump, run or even walk “normally”. I had held in my sadness and fear as the doctor talked, but while walking to the car it just came pouring down my cheeks. And I remember talking to God. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember how I was feeling. Then, suddenly a wave of peace washed over me. There was an awareness of how much God loves this child- even more than I do. That He knew about K’s nerve damaged leg and had a plan. I knew THIS was the “peace that passes understanding” that the Bible speaks of and I knew it was a moment God himself had created to calm my anxious heart. When I tell this story, my eyes always tear up. It’s impossible to not feel moved by the way God lovingly fulfilled His promise to give me peace that would guard my heart and mind. And it has ever since, where this child is concerned.

So, as I watched K’s eyes tear up, I knew. God must have been creating a moment for him too. And in it, a little more peace came to me as well. Here’s the hard part about being a mom: I feel like I have to help my kids figure out what God wants them to do with their lives. Help them pick a college. Pick a career. Pick out what to wear on Easter Sunday. When K began his new found interest in signing, I viewed it as a phase. Then I worried he was obsessing. Then I wondered what was motivating all this constant hand gesturing. “Is he trying to get attention? Is he feeling the need to be different from other kids? Is he not stimulated intellectually and this is the result of the boredom? (I actually thought this. Sounds ridiculous, but the child does AP Chemistry with ease.)  I also wondered if God was stirring a passion within him for signing.

And then I knew. Those moments of peace cannot be created by us. Clearly God is at work in K’s life and has been since the moment he created him. I have no idea why God is giving K a passion for signing, but I’m also aware it’s not my place to figure that out. God will direct him, as he has so often directed me. Through His word, through experiences and through transforming his heart to beat more and more in sync with His. So, I’ve come full circle and back to peace. Thankfully God let’s me repeat that loop often as I am weak and forgetful and utterly in need of it! 

Mom Hat

This morning I woke at 6am to my obnoxious, but certain to wake me, alarm clock in mid-thought: “I need to bring a bucket and a roll of paper towels in the car tomorrow morning in case Emma gets sick on our way home from surgery…”

Apparently I am trying to prepare for every potential outcome, while sleeping! I feel less than rested, and I blame this “sleep prep”, although I think daylight savings has “cost” me some energy as well. Still, it got me thinking about how difficult it is to hold my children loosely. Last night one of our pastor’s spoke about joy coming through sorrow, and gave this example about how they trap monkey’s in Taiwan. (Stick with me, this is going somewhere) So, what they do to trap a monkey is build a box with slats in the top, big enough for a monkey to just slide his hands down into. Inside the box, they put a banana. I’m guessing the monkey can see the banana- that part was unclear, but I digress. Okay, once the monkey slides his hands down in the box and finds the banana, he grabs onto it, excited to have some “easy food”. And now he is trapped, because he can’t get his hands back out AND keep the banana. Amazing. Trapped, yet all he has to do is let go. Now, I’d like to believe I’m more clever than a monkey, but…..

So back to Emma. She will have surgery tomorrow morning. My “mom hat” will be firmly on all day. I’ve taken off work, bought soft foods, planned an easy dinner for tomorrow so I can give her most of my attention, made sure we’re stocked on Ibuprofen and as of 6 am this morning, have my mental list of what I need to bring in the car with us. Now after all that, my job is to let go? Really?

I have decided for me, trusting God with my kids comes down to believing that He loves them more than I do. AND He will allow suffering in their lives only to the extent that it is necessary to accomplish His good purpose in and through them. I hate that reality, if I’m honest. I don’t mind the suffering in my own life, nearly as much as I mind it for my kids. But, just as God allowed His own son to suffer on our behalf, I have to let go and trust Him with the pain and hurt my kids go through. A long time ago, when I was a very young mom, a wise lady in my life told me this: “It’s not our job to protect our children from all pain. It is our job to teach them where to go with that pain.”

So what about you? Where have you learned to let go with your kids? Where have you found yourself trapped, unable to let go?