Parting the Red Sea

As our small group meeting was coming to a close, I debated whether or not to complete the thought that was already pouring out of my mouth:

“I’m not saying that I have greater faith than Moses, but I’d like to think that if I saw my hand turn white with leprosy and then return to normal or my staff turn into a snake and then a staff again, then I wouldn’t doubt that God was in control. But I hesitate to say what I’m thinking because I know I’m going to be tested now….”

And shortly after, the testing began.

To be fair, the testing actually began before small group, and I failed miserably. While sitting for three hours with my daughter in a medical clinic open on Sundays, I began to unhinge. I was supposed to be creating 16 Jedi robes for my son’s 5th birthday party. I was supposed to be looking over my notes for Bible study. I was supposed to be replying to comments and reading the other blogs that I had neglected last week. I was supposed to be enjoying a leisurely Sabbath–not waiting for a strep throat diagnosis (again).

And I definitely was not supposed to leave that clinic without an antibiotic in hand and a daughter on the path to recovery. The unhinging was near complete. I cried on the way home. I cried on the way to small group. And I cried on the way home after small group.

I didn’t want to face another week with a sick kid, especially since I now would have to make a doctor’s appointment in the morning. I didn’t want to deal with the chaos of planning a birthday party during the same week my husband was to have his own out-patient procedure on the same day my son was playing in his first Tee ball game. I felt overwhelmed before Monday morning hit.

So I’m not quite sure what changed between 8:30 p.m. Sunday night and 6:00 a.m. Monday morning. Perhaps I actually received the prayer I asked for last night. Perhaps I knew I would be tested and tried to mentally prepare. Perhaps I relaxed when I saw that my husband put away laundry and cleaned the mess that reminded me of what would happen if a mailbox threw up on my countertops. Most likely, it was a combination of all three, but whatever the reason, I woke up calm.

I woke up calm even though a second child had climbed into our bed in the middle of the night, hot with fever. I remained calm on the way to our doctor’s appointment and as we left with our prescriptions in hand. I remained calm when my sick boy threw up in the Publix parking lot, and I remained calm when my daughter spit her five-dose total medicine all over the two of us. And I even remained calm when another parent responded to the invitation, and I realized just how many Jedi robes and light sabers I had to make by this weekend.

I wasn’t going to come unhinged, and every time I felt like I could, I heard God whisper:

I didn’t ask you to part the Red Sea; I asked you to love and comfort your sick children. I didn’t ask you to take on Pharaoh; I asked you to support your husband and remain calm for him.

I didn’t ask you to throw a birthday party or create Jedi robes–that was your choice. I didn’t ask you to write on your blog four times a week or respond to every comment that comes your way–those were your goals.

And I didn’t ask you to have a spotless house; I asked that you not give in to idleness but give your best at whatever you do. And sometimes giving your best is letting go of those things that aren’t as important at the moment.

God didn’t ask me to part the Red Sea; He asked me to be a good mom today. And even though there are times when I might think parting the Red Sea would be easier, I have to remember that the God over Moses is the God over me. He’s in charge, and thank the Lord!

Because when I look at the Christmas outfit my daughter wore to the doctor’s today, I know clearly I’m not!

I’m linking up with Michelle today. If you haven’t before, head on over to her site. You won’t be disappointed! And if you’re interested in linking up with me, come back with your own post on Friday for this week’s journey on faithfulness.

²² But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³ gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law (Galatians 5:22-23, New International Version, 2010).

The Cookie Test

Yesterday, I left church not dwelling on a specific scripture, but agonizing over whether or not my children had any shred of self-control. As a tie-in to his sermon on the faith of Abraham and the need for those with faith to wait, our pastor showed a video on “The Marshmallow Test.” In this experiment, children were brought into a room without distractions by themselves and given one marshmallow. They were told that if they resisted eating the marshmallow, at the end of fifteen minutes, they would get one more marshmallow.

In the original Stanford study from 1972, follow-up studies were performed on the children who participated, and the results showed that children who resisted eating that first marshmallow grew up to have happier, more successful lives.

Immediately, visions of my children hiding under the dining room table, scarfing down homemade cookies came to mind. I saw the lollipop stains I had to clean off the carpet as they tried to devour their Valentine’s candy under that same table without Mommy noticing. My heart was filled with dread as I came to the realization that my children were doomed to a life of failure. There was no way they would resist the marshmallow. So, naturally, I had to recreate the test to see just how bad a parent I really am.

Since I don’t have hidden cameras, I performed the test in my kitchen where I could watch my children, and I had them take the test together. And since I didn’t want to have to buy a bag of yucky marshmallows for this test, I bought a box of Back to Nature Classic Creme Cookies. I did my best to not converse or actively engage with them once I started the kitchen timer, and I did not encourage them to hold off on eating the cookie. I simply stated the rules at the beginning of the test: “You may eat your cookie now, but if you wait until the timer goes off, I’ll give you another cookie.”

Four seconds into the test, my three-year-old daughter looked at me with a resigned look on her face.

“I’m going to eat my cookie now.”

Clearly, the last four seconds were the longest of her life, and her bright blue eyes dulled a little, conveying the inward struggle she had to endure.

I didn’t dissuade her and was ready to accept the fact that she was doomed to a life of failure, that I had failed as a parent, when she said, “No, no, I’m going to wait.”

I took to cooking a quick dinner while the children waited in their chairs. As I spread the tortilla chips across the baking sheet for the nachos we were to have, I happened to look up as Hannah Grace was putting her cookie to her lips, quickly bringing the cookie back down. I wasn’t near the timer, but I think we were about a minute into the test.

Caleb, my almost five year old, found his Leapster video game to occupy his time, and I’m pretty sure playing video games is against the rules and would’ve invalidated the results. However, I quickly snatched the Leapster from him and instructed him that he had to stare at the cookie from his chair–without any games in hand.

I looked up again at four minutes into the test, and Hannah Grace, once again, had the cookie to her lips. A couple of minutes later, the cookie was gone.

“Hannah Grace, did you eat your cookie?”

“No, Caleb gave it to Chloe.”

“What?!”

“Caleb gave Chloe my cookie!”

I looked at Caleb with disbelief written across my face. Did he really ruin this test by giving Hannah Grace’s cookie to their baby sister?

“I accidentally gave Chloe Hannah’s cookie.”

“You gave Chloe the cookie?”

“Yes, I accidentally gave Chloe Hannah Grace’s cookie.”

Caleb actually had a slight look of remorse and embarrassment.

“How do you accidentally give someone a cookie?!!”

I quickly reached into the box and set another cookie in front of Hannah Grace. Yes, these results were definitely invalidated. However, a couple more minutes into the test, Hannah Grace had the cookie in front of her lips again. The end result would be the same.

I have to admit that I felt surprised and disappointed at the same time–surprised that both children made an effort to not touch the cookie but disappointed that Hannah Grace couldn’t hold out.

Or could she?

Finally, the timer went off, and I immediately walked to the table. Caleb’s cookie was perfectly intact. He exceeded my expectations, more than proved me wrong by not even showing the least bit of temptation from that cookie.

But then I was perplexed. As I looked at Hannah Grace’s cookie, expecting to find chunks missing from the round chocolate disks held together by creme goodness, I noticed a cookie broken in half, but not eaten.

But I saw her put the cookie to her mouth, and she had a chocolate rim around her lips!

“Hannah Grace, did you not eat the cookie?”

“No,” she said with a smile conveying the victory she thought she achieved.

“But you have chocolate on your face. I saw you put the cookie by your mouth….” I trailed off waiting for her explanation.

“I licked the cookie!”

And licked it she had. She must’ve licked the cookie with all the force her little tongue could muster, tasting every bit of that chocolate and creme that she could without technically eating the cookie.

I didn’t have it in me to disqualify her. After all, I didn’t give her any rules except to not eat the cookie, and a full cookie she had in front of her. Never mind the fact that the cookie was moist with saliva.

As I walked over to the counter where I had set the box of cookies, I pulled out the plastic tray and grabbed two more of the promised treat. I set one cookie before each child, giving them the grand total of two, and pondered what kept these children, prone to sneaking every sweet in the house, from eating the first cookie that I laid before them. All I could figure was that they believed the promise of one more cookie to follow, and that promise was enough.

“Abram believed the LORD, and he credited it to him as righteousness” (Genesis 15:6, New International Version, 2010).

I smiled as I looked at my two children, enjoying their cookies, chocolate crumbles around their lips, a trail on the table, and I let out a sigh knowing that they were not doomed to a life of failure and that I had managed to teach them some self-control. And I marveled at the lesson that they had helped bring home for me–that I, too, have a parent who will deliver on what He has promised. Temptation might encourage me to take a bite, but if only I can resist! Because, after all, everyone knows that two cookies are much better than one.

A combination of staying up too late watching a bad 83rd Oscars and having three children wake up a tad too early prevented me from linking up this post yesterday. So here it is! Just a day late…and for any of those following my weekly Journeys, this week I will ponder goodness. I would love for you to join me and link up your own post on Friday!

^“22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³ gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23, New International Version, 2010).

Assuming the Position

I watched as this thick-haired girl knelt beside him, both father and daughter bowed faced down before the Lord. I thought how my own children have never witnessed that kind of worship from me, nor do I remember seeing my own parents assume that position before the Lord.

I grew up in a liturgical church. We knelt. We stood. We sat. And then we’d kneel some more. I didn’t know the reason behind any of the positions we took, but I followed obediently going through the motions.

When I visited other churches, I viewed with skepticism those who dared to clap or raise a hand. Surely, their reactions weren’t genuine. They were doing it for show or to not be outdone by the person next to them. Even though I had no idea why I knelt or stood, those positions felt comfortable and, therefore, right.

Over time, as I was further removed from the church of my youth, I found my former worship sterile and lacking, the latter more alive. While I never waved my arms in the air, I felt more comfortable in a room where people were rejoicing through song, where they seemed genuinely in love with their God.

Yet, I still didn’t understand.

Watching that father and daughter marks the first time my eyes were opened as I closed them to worship from my heart and not from a missalette or a passing feeling. That night at church, with my husband at my side, I didn’t do what was comfortable–I did what I needed to communicate before my God.

Shachah: to kneel, face down to the ground. A position of reverence. “You are God, and I am in awe.” Position of worship used 80% of the time in the Old Testament.

Barak: to kneel. A position of surrender. “You are God, and I am not.”

Yadah: to praise, a standing position. “You are God, and I wait.” Psalm 43 and Psalm 79

Halal: to praise the Lord, to clamor foolishly. “You are God, and I praise.” Psalm 150

And what struck me about this evening as I learned the different positions of worship is how much time I have spent in church not understanding what I do or why I do it. After I left the liturgical church and really dug into Scripture, I saw the beauty and meaning behind the rituals that had seemed empty. And after Friday night, I learned that people who raise both hands in church just might not be crazy. Maybe.

And, perhaps, the church of my youth and the church of my adulthood are both right and can learn from one another. And, perhaps, I shouldn’t base my worship on what is comfortable for me but, instead, on what the Lord deserves.

I’m linking up with Michelle today. If you’ve never read her work before, click on the image above–you will not be disappointed!

And continuing with our Journeys through the fruits of the Spirit, this Friday’s link-up will be on kindness:

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23, New International Version, 2010). Emphasis mine

A Radical Perspective

I used to read. Almost five years ago, before three babies came along and interrupted my R.E.M. every three hours, before toddlers refused to sleep in their ‘big boy’ and ‘big girl’ beds, I used to read every night before my head hit the pillow. Now, my eyes start to flutter and the windows in my brain start closing with each word I try to decipher.

Around Christmas, I started reading Radical by David Platt. I’m embarrassed to say what place my bookmark is currently holding. And while I still have two thirds of the book to go, I am amazed how the ideas I’ve read challenge me every day.

The premise of the book is that the American church has manipulated Christianity to fit with the American dream. Our religion is more about comfort than taking seriously the commands of the Bible. Near the very beginning of the book, Platt compared two different versions of how Jesus is presented in church, the modern-day feel-good gospel and the biblical gospel, and I often wonder which version I have chosen to follow:

‘”The modern-day gospel says, ‘God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life. Therefore, follow these steps, and you can be saved.’ Meanwhile, the biblical gospels says, ‘You are an enemy to God, dead in your sin, and in your present state of rebellion, you are not even able to see that you need life, much less to cause yourself to come to life. Therefore, you are radically dependent on God to do something in your life that you could never do.’

The former sells books and draws crowds. The latter saves souls.”(Platt, 2010, p. 32)

I began to look at how I worship God. Where are my thoughts during church, during worship? What is my prayer life like? When I am talking to God, am I more in awe of him, or am I focused on myself?

Christianity can feel like a paradox at times. The God of the universe, all-powerful and full of hate toward sin, loves me and wants a relationship with me. He demands my worship and will punish those who don’t give it, yet He desires all to come to Him and call Him ‘Abba,’ or ‘Daddy.’

I tend to focus on the Daddy part. I like the loving God who calls me to His lap to sit and talk. I like the God who sent His Son out of love for me, who can forgive my worst sins because of Jesus’ sacrifice.

And I believe that all of those characteristics of God are true.

Yet, at times, I have focused so much on those traits, that I have turned Jesus into a self-help book. Jesus is my ‘Mr. Fix-it.’ I come to Jesus asking Him to make me a better mother, a better wife. I ask for help when we are having financial difficulties, and I ask for wisdom when deciding where to send my son for kindergarten. Every day I have my list of requests, and I eagerly await for Him to answer them.

But I forget the other side. I forget the depraved nature of my soul. I forget that God is a jealous God, demanding my full worship. I forget His warnings against sin and choose to focus on grace. I forget His call to care for the poor and share the Gospel to the ends of the earth. I forget to stand in awe.

And while I completely believe that God wants to hear the concerns of my heart, to “cast all [my] anxiety on him because he cares” (1 Peter 5:7), I also believe that one day ” every knee will bow…every tongue will confess” (Isaiah 45:23) that He is the Lord.

Perhaps if I encountered God with true awe and reverence, remembering how unworthy I am to stand in His presence, engaging in true worship, then I would see more of those changes I want to see in my life. If I truly allowed myself to see how small, insignificant I am to stand in the presence of the King of Kings, then I would realize how amazing and incomprehensible is His gift of grace and how incredible that He invites me into a relationship with Him. And if I really believed all I said, I couldn’t help but share.

I forget that Christianity isn’t about me. It’s about Him.

Perhaps, I shouldn’t venture into the next third of the book until I get this main idea down.

Platt, D. (2010). Radical. Colorado Springs, CO: Multnomah Books.

I’m linking up today with Michelle for her “Hear it on Sunday, Use it on Monday” link-up. If you have never visited her blog, you are missing out! She has the most beautiful words and pictures to accompany them–please check her out today!

And remember to come back Friday to link up for our next ‘Journeys’ topic! We will continue exploring the fruits of the Spirit, this week’s being forbearance. Click on the ‘Journeys’ tab above for more information on how to participate:

^22″ But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23).