He who Calms the Storm (Sometimes)

Mark, “Mom, why is God doing this to me? Why is God making me sick?”
Mom, “Oh, honey, God isn’t making you sick,” I say as I hold him and rock him, “we live in such a fallen world.” My answer falls flat even to me as I comfort a feverish child and my own storms loom over me. Two days later, the boy is well and yet, his questions linger in my heart. How do I answer? How do I encourage his faith to grow?
God met me again and used our pastor’s message to help answer my son’s questions (and my own). In Luke chapter 8, the disciples wake Jesus because of a terrifying storm and Jesus calms the sea. But why was there a storm in the first place? God uses storms in life to draw us near to Him. Why does He do this? There is a certain truth that we will never know the full knowledge of God. Our childish intellect will always fail us in this area. It brings to mind a certain song, “Sometimes He calms the storm; other times He calms His child.” (Scott Krippayne).
Another thing to remember is that you are not alone in your storm. You are a Christ follower. Jesus is in the boat with you. He sticks closer than a brother. You must turn to him in your hour of need. And, ultimately, He will answer, in your storm and in mine. He went through the worst storm ever at the cross for us. As this truth sinks in, my questioning heart is stilled; there is peace after the storm.
“Come sit next to me, Mark. Mama wants to read to you about Jesus and a storm.”

Good Friday

"Whatever you do, work at it with your whole heart, as though working for God and not man." Colossians 3:23

Work. Work. Work. Some days it's downright tough to do the dishes one more time or do yet another load of laundry or spend time making one more meal. I call it the deep-sigh day. It means I need an attitude adjustment from my spiritual chiropractor. All these deep sighs and unspoken complaints are simply symptoms of me-ism. Yep, focusing on myself again instear of my creator and sustainer. Me-ism = selfishness = sin= repentance = J.O.Y. = Jesus Others You.

That's right, "you" is last. "But what about ME? It's isn't fair. I've had enough; now I want my share. Can't you see?. . . " Another selfish 80s song floats through my brain looking for a home, but I know another, "It's no about me, Jesus, that you should do things my way...it's all about you."

Isn't true worship the humbling of ourselfves? Admitting we were wrong and walking in grace, grace--like wrapping up in a dryer-warmed blanket after a cold walk outdoors.

In Luke, the Roman centurian discovered something. He viewed Christ's horrible death from beginning until the end. Darkness covered the land, the veil was rent in two, and we all know his statement, "Truly this was the son of God!" yet we miss the verse before it. Our pastor pointed to this little remembered phrase in the book of Luke and it seemed to lodge in my heart. The scripture says, "He PRAISED God." It's hard to imagine PRAISE at such a time, but there it is. He PRAISED God.--That one little verb I need for my attitude adjustment.

My life needs to be that praise, tha tacknowledgement, that daily love song, even my dishes, my laundry, and my dinners.

Love Song

Today my powm will be written
Not in words
But in the work I do
To make this house
Shining and welcoming.

Today my poem will be written
Not with pen
But with my mop and broom
With my iron and parin gknife

A love song, yes--
One written with my life.

By Elizabeth B. Rooney

January 13, 2009. Twenty years ago today, my husband's sixteen year old brother, Brad Westphal, went to be with the Lord, after it was discovered he had leukemia while on Christmas Break. He was a smart, funny, good-looking kid, who is still missed by his big brother, even after all this time.

I am reminded of Ecclesiastes and the times. There is a time to weep, and a time to mourn. ...a time to die....a time to be born....and God's time is always perfect. That can be really hard to accept sometimes.

My cousin, Jenny, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl on January 13. Kinsley Lynn. It is her time to be born. The beginning of the life God has given her. Life is such a gift.

Same date, different times. So for me, the 13th was a nostalgic sadness for Ryan's brother, and a teary happiness for this new baby. All day and every day belongs to God. And I am so grateful.

Everybody has a name

Oh for the innocence of childhood. For the unaltered friendliness and complete lack of self-consciousness. Did you know everyone has a name? Everyone cries. Every single one of us has a mother. God made us and designed us. He designed that guy who is always standing in his yard whenever we drive by. He designed the shirtless skateboarder, resting on a bench, absorbed in his ipod. He has plans for those individuals…

We walked to the park in Grandville. It’s a little bit of a trek from our home, but Tim and Sarah had bikes and the boys sometimes rode in the burley and sometimes walked. Plus Ryan was meeting us at the park. It was 82 degrees according to the church clock on the corner of Canal Street and 36th. when we strolled by. A beautiful summer day in the midst of April. Lovely. We crossed the street.

We passed the occasional biker, or walker. We all do the polite smile or nod and move on in our lives, don’t we? My three year old gave me pause. We passed a man standing in his yard. He wasn’t doing anything. Just standing there, looking around. Mark stopped and stared at him for a moment. Then he said, “Hi, what’s your name?” with a huge smile. The man smiled, “My name is Harry.” “Hello, Harry. I’m Mark. We are going to the park today.”

Now, it may be that since the van crash, we haven’t really seen too many new people, but I think it was more than that. My heart was warmed by my son’s words and as we walked away from Harry, I realized I would have never known that man’s name if Mark had not asked.

I know it’s typical three year old stuff, but I couldn’t help but think how we don’t want to involve ourselves with ‘strangers.’ We don’t really want to know their names. We just want to move on our way. I pondered this as we walked on. It was a long walk and at last, we were on the trail by the creek. Mark saw the shirtless young man from a distance. He was sitting on the bench, listening to an ipod, with a skateboard near his feet. “Who’s that?” “Oh, it’s no one we know, just some one enjoying the day…” Well, Mark stopped right in front of him, sized him up and smiled. “Hi, what’s your name?” “Jacob, “ replied the man, removing an earplug and smiling a pleasant grin I did not expect, “What’s your name?” “I am Marcus.” “That’s a nice name.” “Yup. I am going to the playground now. Goodbye.” I did the polite smile thing and we walked on.

I think I wasn’t just humoring a small child, I was learning that we need to care about what other people’s names are. We need to have and make room in our neatly ordered lives for new conversations, even new relationships with other people God made. God created Harry and Jacob. Their parents gave them names. They have souls inside. Now, I probably won’t be introducing myself to everyone I see, but I hope to listen to God’s voice, and obey, and remember, everybody has a name.

Sorry About That

Well, God is still teaching me things and I am still learning. Thank goodness He is patient and gracious. Here is what I am working on this week. I am learning what a true apology involves. First, what it is not.

A true apology does not apologize for WHO you are. God made you on purpose. Yes, you have shortcomings, otherwise known as opportunities for growth and dependence on God. However, when you apologize for your character, you aren’t taking responsibility or working on growth. For example, when I say, “I’m sorry, verbal communication is not my strong point.” While the statement is true, I shouldn’t be apologizing for it. The “I’m sorry” can even be taken at “I’m sorry you don’t like it, and I’m not working to change it.” I have been hugely guilty of this one.

Secondly, a true apology does not apologize for circumstances beyond your control. We have all said, “Oh, I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well.” This is another one for me. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry you bumped your head outside.” My six-year-old enlightened me, “You weren’t there, mom. It wasn’t you. Don’t say you were sorry.” This really makes me think. He’s right, it’s not MY fault. Yes, I feel bad he was injured and I should seek to comfort and help, but to apologize? Doesn’t that just put the emphasis on me? Ouch.

A true apology does not seek to escape conflict. Oh, you know who you are, you conflict-avoiders. This is a big one for me. I tend to apologize before I even understand the problem. This can drive your spouse crazy, by the way. (My poor husband could write a book on this one.) This pseudo-apology just wants the problem and the bad feelings associated with it to disappear at soon as possible. This person apologizes for things that aren’t their fault. Henceforth, a solution does not occur, and often the problem resurfaces and you find yourself in a destructive pattern.

Yikes. Is there any hope? But of course. The true apology is out there and it involves four parts (at least that’s what I’ve discovered thus far).

A true apology is an acceptance of responsibility. It states what you are sorry for, and does not include any footnotes. “I’m sorry I broke the vase, but if you hadn’t put it there…” No, you broke it, you apologize. I’m sorry I broke the vase. I’m sorry I said those words. I am sorry I hurt you. I am sorry I threw your Sunday School paper away. No excuses. Claim responsibility for your mistake.

Secondly, a true apology seeks forgiveness. When we do wrong (sin) our relationship with God is hindered. We seek forgiveness with him first, for that is where true forgiveness lies. After you have sought and received forgiveness from God, seek it from the person you wronged. Mommy is sorry she yelled at you. I’m sorry I punished your for something your brothers did, will you forgive me? I’m sorry I talked to Mom about that without asking you first. Even if your sister is so hurt, she refuses to forgive you, you have done your part. Here comes part three.

A true apology seeks restitution. I know I hurt you and I am sorry, how can I make it up to you? I would like to buy you a new vase. Can I help you draw another picture? Restitution is not always immediate and it is not a giant eraser. Hurtful words are like squeezed out toothpaste. They aren’t going to go back and they may be messy to clean up. Restitution just means you truly care and you want to do better. When my kids apologize for “hitting”, I tell them it means “it won’t happen again.” They are committing to a change in behavior, and hopefully a change in will.

Lastly, true apology seeks a solution. I am going to commit to watching my words so I don’t hurt you again. I am going to make sure I ask you before I throw your papers out. I don’t want to sin again. Like repentance, true apology involves a turn-around. So the next time you hear the words, “I’m sorry” escape your lips, stop and ask yourself if you are truly apologizing.

Well, that’s it. If you have any comments, I would love to hear them.

Reflections on Psalm 26

I read Psalm 26 this morning and thought of people I’ve talked to who sometimes feel that they don’t deserve the grace of God. God’s grace is available to all of us, praise God!

Sometimes it’s hard for someone like me to see God’s grace and appreciate it. It’s something I have always had. I have never been to a high school party or college party. No one has EVER offered me drinks or cigarettes or drugs. People just knew better. I got called Sister Christian a few times, but people knew. I always walked in integrity. (Yeah, I messed up, but for the most part, I was fine.) My friends were after me if I skipped chapel in college! I led a pretty protected life. I still do.

So I read in this psalm this morning how David says, “I am walking in integrity, vindicate me.” And later he says, “I am walking in integrity, redeem me and be gracious to me.” Even though he was walking in integrity, he acknowledged his NEED for redemption and grace. The “walk” was not the point. The walk is never the point, it’s the grace.

This struck a chord with me this morning. My hardest struggle in life was when we dealt with infertility. I know some of you have been down that road, where you just desire a child and nothing is happening. We got angry at God. We had always done the right thing…shouldn’t he bless us? This attitude was dead wrong and we learned so much about trust, and grace. (We were the older brother in the prodigal son story). We may be “walking in integrity” but we still have to humble ourselves and acknowledge the NEED for redemption and grace. What a difference that acknowledgement makes.

I think some people have a greater appreciation for God’s grace than me just because of all they’ve experienced. (like the younger son in the prodigal son story) I see God at work in other people, in their love for their kids, in their prayer requests for family and co-workers, in their sensitive spirits, in their humility and I am blessed for it!

As followers of Christ, we each have a story, a story whose focal point is our response to the grace and redemption of Christ’s sacrifice for us. It’s encouraging to be encouraged by other people’s experiences walking with God. So, keep walking and keep sharing your stories and thanks again for all of you who provide encouragement for me. Keep it coming!

Potty training…hmm… two words that strike fear into the hearts of parents of toddlers everywhere. Not me. I exuded confidence. I was in control. I had a plan, a schedule and stuck to it. I trained a 22 month old boy while nursing a two month old infant all on my own in less than 2 days! Pat me on the back. Call me SUPERMOM. I got this thing down….that was then….2003…what a year…

Have you noticed that just when you think you got it all together, something happens to remind you that God is REALLY in charge, and you aren’t? I’m talkin’ super-humility… Twins have done that to me in so many, many ways. I think God is just smiling as I learn one thing after another…

God is the only reason my twins are learning because without Him, I am truly nothing. I turn to him on a daily, hourly, minutely (is that even a word?), basis for, yes, I can admit it, help! Save me from my enemies: my own reactive anger that swells up inside. Those puddles on the floor, carpet, rug, bed, toys, books, pillow, toys, etc.. The Nothing-else-is-getting-accomplished feeling, the self-doubt, the interruptions, the saying “No” 16,000 times a day, the saying “Wait” 32, 000 times a day.

I am really not a very good mom. What I mean is, I am being a good mom, but it is only through God’s grace, and not my own. I don’t want my kids to think, Sheesh! My mom’s got it all together, or Yikes, my mom is a basket case. Although most days I fall somewhere between those two. Alright, so I lean toward basketcase (those who know me well know exactly what I mean).

I want my children to think, yeah, mom was never perfect, but I can say that she loved Jesus. How do I communicate that to those four little minds? That ones that watch my imitation of the Muppets svedish chef while I am cooking and crack up. Those little eyes that watch me yell in frustration at the boys. Those hands that reach for one more book, hug, game. The ones I serve three meals a day. The little legs who run on trips to the zoo, gardens, doctors’ office, parks, libraries, etc.

But it’s really not about me or how I communicate it. Yes, they have seen me pray, and yes, they have seen me apologize and they’ve even extended their forgiveness. Mostly, I think they just have to see me love Jesus every day. This does not translate into - ”everybody go play while I read my bible chapter and drink my coffee”. This is more than that. This is my attitude toward the people we meet. The “friends” they make at the park, and the videos I say “no” to because it’s mommy’s God-given job to protect them. It’s my answer to the guy at the YMCA who asks, “How are you so patient with your kids?” and how that answer points to Jesus, and not me, or some parenting guru or book. It’s my pleasure in serving that communicates Jesus’ love. It’s not my complaining about having to clean the bathroom, AGAIN!

So when you pray for me, pray for less of me and more of JESUS!