A Life Given
Today while I was out running errands I text messaged Jeff: “sushi + movie = date night”. Dombrows are out of town for the weekend and my parents decided to take Dutch to their house for a sleepover, and since Heidi is the easiest baby on earth and goes to sleep in her little closet at 7pm, that meant Jeff and me, alone in this great big house living it up like rock stars :-). I brought home $3 sushi from Winco (I know, extravagent), and splurged on a movie from blockbuster (usually we rent form the library) and even got wild and crazy with Moose Tracks ice cream from safeway. I told you, liviin’ it up like rock stars. Jeff ran upstairs and found the only blanket he could find which happened to be Dutch’s blue fleece with a life-sized Bob the Builder logo on it, and we curled up on the couch under Bob and Wendy and watched Seven Pounds. Wow.
I won’t give away all the details but the movie could basically be summed up in one phrase: A Life Given. What fasincates me is how our culture, or really all of humanity is fascinated by the idea of one giving his own life for the redemption, the life, the salvation of others. We are obsessed with it, with the profundity of such an idea. We are moved to tears by the utter selflessness of it all. We’re inspired. There is something in us that says, This is love.
And that is what Seven Pounds is about. I want to write so much more about it but don’t want to give it all away. It’s so fascinating that our culture and world will reject the idea of Christ’s substitutionary work of atonement on the cross, will reject the idea of redemption, and yet our hearts ache to watch movies like Seven Pounds, one given for the life of many.
The movie made me want to fall on my knees and worship our God, because even though the movie brought me to tears with the beauty of Tim Thomas’s sacrificial gift of life, but how much greater the gift of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. For in the movie, Tim, acting as Ben, researches, calls, stalks those in need of organs, to be sure that they are “good people”. But what about Christ? Is His gift of life conditional? Scripture says,
“6You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. 7Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. 8But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:6-8)
Christ’s substitution death on the cross wasn’t for seven. It wasn’t for those with kind dispositions. Christ died for all. He died for us while we were wicked. While we were helpless. While we were unloving.
And, just as the movie portrayed with Connie, the abused woman who refused help, Christ knocks on the door of our heart, seeks us out, reveals Himself to us…but doesn’t force us to receive His grace. Connie refused, because of fear. How could she trust this man she didn’t even know? But Tim’s card was left, and when she came to the end of herself, she called–and a new life was given.
Christ died for us! A healthy heart for ours that fails, new eyes that we can see, a mansion in glory for us to enjoy for all eternity. The beautiful part, however, is that Tim had to die forever that the others could live. But Jesus lives! He is the only one who could die a substitionary death and still rise, and still live, and still conquer sin and death once and for all.
Our right response? Fall on our knees and worship. Thank Him with every breath and every ounce of our being. He died that we might live. His life was given for ours. Thank You, Jesus.
Routine Required
Did you think perhaps I graduated from seminary and then walked off the edge of the earth? I’ve felt haunted by this blog all week because I haven’t know what to say. I’m trying to figure out a new normal now. What is life like without school? And more than that, what on earth is my routine going to be like? Without the rigor of schoolwork, I’m finding myself sort of floating listlessly through my day. You see, I’m a hopeless routine girl. I love routine, and apparently so do my children, whose sleep patterns are like clockwork. I think one of the biggest challenges for me with moving as much as we have, is that I’ve yet to find a rhythm or routine to my life. I jump from one adrenalin boost to the next. Just when I get adjusted, we move again or something changes like a new job or baby or something and I’m starting all over again. No complaints here–everything in our life is fabulous, just trying to learn the dance of the moment and I seem to have two left feet at it right now.
We’re also moving again :)…and don’t know where. But we’re confident. God has just the perfect situation. We actually have a housing opportunity on the horizon, which I’ll share more about as I’m able, but we need a place to stay for four months, preferably near the church. Any ideas?
Anyway, all that to say I’m just trying to get in the swing of ordinary things and catch up on what I’ve slacked on for about, say, four years. We haven’t gone to the dentist in over 2 years. Dutch has never gone to the dentist. I have no summer clothes except cut-off jean shorts, which I can’t quite carry off wearing to church with heels (wouldn’t that cause a stir!). We all need doctor’s appointments. Oh, and we need a place to live. 🙂
So to help create a sense of normalcy and routine, and to give me some direction, I’m making some daily routine goals.
1. Thirty minutes in the Word and Prayer before kids are up, or at least before Dutch is up. It’s pretty easy to have a quiet time with Heidi. 🙂
2. Baby Workout (I made this up today! Check it out below) during Dutch’s nap. Heidi’s laughter was the best part.
3. Walk to park after Heidi’s first nap.
4. Journal and/or Blog before bed
I’m not much into rules, but at least this will help me have some structure. Wish I had some deep thoughts to share with ya, but this is all I got. Have a great day.
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Baby Work Out: (Requires 7-20 pound baby. Or I suppose a bag of flour would work too. But then you wouldn’t get the laughs.)
1. Airplane Ride (On your back, baby on shins, knees pulled to chest, extend legs straight out while holding baby’s hands, pull back to chest and watch baby giggle. Repeat. 3 sets of 15 reps)
2. 50 Kisses (Push-ups, I do them on my knees, baby on her back on a blanket, must kiss cheeks with each pushup, alternate cheeks. Enjoy smiles. 50 reps)
3. Baby Elevator (basic squats holding baby close to chest. 25 reps)
4. Baby Bench (lie on back, hold baby’s belly/chest with hands above. Lower to chest and push back up. 3 sets of 12 reps. WARNING: do not do this exercise on a full tummy–baby’s that is. )
5. Clown Act (prop baby on the couch and get dumbells. Do bicep curls while making ridiculous faces at baby. 3 sets of 12 reps. Extra challenge: Sing Jesus Loves Me at the same time.)
A Crown to Cast
So most of you (probably all of you, except my own mother) are tired of me talking about how overwhelmed with joy I am to be done with my master’s and graduating tomorrow. Please indulge me one last time… I just walked in the door from graduation rehearsal, which I had thought was going to be a pretty huge waste of time but was actually helpful. When I’m alone (without kids) driving I feel like I get to think so much more. It’s like I actually have 100% of my mind to focus in one direction instead of listening to Dutch talk, pointing out dump trucks, handing snacks, answering questions, you get the idea. So after rehearsal, I walked slowly to my car, thinking about my day tomorrow. About graduation, about this chapter of my life that is coming to a close.
And I know I’ve said this before, but as I drove home, listening to worship music, singing at the top of my lungs, “You are Holy, You are Holy, Seated on the Throne,” my eyes filled with tears as pictures flashed through my mind of the last four years: Packing four lunches and four dinners every Wednesday night, preparing for the marathon of working full days Thursday, then commuting 1.5 hours, sitting in class from 6-10pm, sleeping at Kris & Nikki’s house, then being back in Portland for class from 8am-5pm straight on Fridays. I thought of eating goldfish crackers during my Theology final to keep from throwing up from morning sickness (and then unfortunately I thought of throwing up right after the final was over). I thought of pushing like crazy trying to get Heidi born. I thought of crying on my knees out to God when the house sold and I was so exhausted and needed to move. I thought of sitting in my car in San Jose and opening my letter from Multnomah that announced my scholarship and confirmed the direction we were to take. I thought of nursing Heidi while grading Spiritual Formation papers.
And then I thought of the symbol of it all–the academic hood, which they hang around our shoulders as we cross the stage tomorrow. It’s such a small thing, and will just gather dust in my closet in years to come, and yet there’s so much behind it. And what came to my mind, as I sang about God’s holiness in the car, was that the significance of it comes from the fact that in a sense I will cast that hood at the foot of Jesus someday. Every thing that we strive for for the Kingdom of God we will get to cast at the foot of our beautiful Savior some day in glory. It doesn’t get any better than that!! We raise our hands to worship Him because our hearts, when they’re overwhelmed by His goodness and glory, can’t help but reach up and want to demonstrate, “I give you all I have, God! You are worthy!” It’s all for you! And that’s why we do what we do. I want to DO something worthy of giving to Christ! I will cast tears, diapers, prayers, academic hoods, and sweat at His feet. Please Lord let me not enter eternity with nothing to cast at Your feet. I want a crown to cast.
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But the truth also is that I’m tired. I’d like to settle down and stare into space for a few years, thank you very much. And while that’s perhaps understandable, it’s not admirable. My default mode is so to just live a safe, comfortable life. Not too hard, please. And that reminded me of this video Jeff showed me, by Francis Chan: I pray we would perform valiently in all God calls us to. That we can have reason to raise our hands when we dismount. That we can have a crown to cast.
Make it Right
I read an interesting and, quite honestly, rather disturbing portion of scripture this morning. Second Samuel chapeter 21 gives an account of how David avenges the Gibeonites, righting Saul’s wrong. So there’s a famine in the land 2 years so “David sought the face of the LORD” basically saying, “Uh, something’s not right here. WHat’s going on?” and the LORD said, “There is bloodguilt on Saul and on his house, because he put the Gigeonites to death.” Now, the Gibeonites are a curious group and always kind of puzzle me. When Joshua and his guys first inhabited the promise land, the Gibeonites got scared that they’d get wiped out, so they pretended to be from a land far far away, wearing old worn out clothes and bringing moldy bread (interesting that apparently the ubiquitousness of moldy bread was the same then as it is now), and asked the Israelites to make a treaty with them and deal kindly with them. The Israelites didn’t seek the Lord, made the treaty, and then and only then discovered that the rascals were their next door neighbors and the Lord had intended for them to be wiped out. So, basically what they had done was agree to share their promised land with these tricksters for all time.
And because God honors a vow, the treaty would last for all time. Never were they to slaughter the Gibeonites. Well, Saul, who is famous for not following directions very well, had put some Gibeonites to death during his reign. We’re talking a long time ago. David wasn’t even around then so it obviously wasn’t his fault. So it kind of seems random that God’s allowing this famine because of a sin that some dead king did a long time ago. So David asks them basically, “how can I make it right by you?” and they respond they want some of Saul’s blood. So, David agrees to avenge the Gibeonites by executing seven descendents of Saul. Wait, what?
That’s the part that really trips me up. So these seven men, grandsons of King Saul, who probably didn’t even know the guy that much, are executed because of some stupid thing their grandpa did? That’s harsh. So I’m not going there, but the point seems to be that sin is a big deal, and requires restitution.
Now we know we’ve been bought and redeemed by Christ, but I wonder if there is a principle here for me/us. Because when David did that, and avenged the Gibeonites, it says, “And after that God responded to the plea for the land” v. 14. Hm. Who do I need to avenge?
I just wonder if maybe God thinks it’s important for us to be mindful of ways that we need to make things right. So I prayed and asked God if there was anything I needed to be reminded of, anything that need to be made right, so that a spiritual famine would not take place in my life, but that God would hear my plea. I was reminded of two things: Jeff and I had decided to support some certain missionaries in February, but then the house sold things got crazy, and I realized today that we never followed through and called the mission agency. That might seem small, but if those missionaries were counting on our contribution, we were essentially robbing them, not letting our yes be yes. This passage showed me that in order to make it right, we should not just start now, but pay back the months we’d neglected. In essence, righting the wrong we’d overlooked.
Secondly, God brought to mind a very difficult relational/business situation we’ve been in. THe other person, through an amazing change of heart, chose to bless us. We have an opportunity to make a pretty significant choice to bless her back, and in light of this passage, I think any measure is worth being upright before God and man. Thankfully we don’t have to find anyone’s sons and have them hanged.
I know Old Testament passages like this can be confusing. I still don’t understand why God would let those seven men die for sins they didn’t commit. But I also know He sees stuff I don’t. But what I love is when those old dusty musty stories come alive with conviction and truth for today. Because He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. And now I need to go, I have some checks to write :-).
Free At Last!
Well today I am enjoying my first day at home as a free woman! After finishing seminary, speaking at the women’s luncheon, then finishing the last of the theology papers to grade, I dropped off the papers at Multnomah and drove home a free woman! Done!!! Today is the first day at home in four years, besides during vacations and so forth, when I’ve had no studying to do, no papers to write and/or grade, and no books to read. This morning Dutch and I watched the excavator work next door, sat outside and watched dump trucks come and go, walked to the park and played in the barkdust, walked to to a nearby farm and watched the cows, and even watched a 20-minute chunk of Cars. The washing machine is humming with laundry, and I never ever thought I’d say this, but I’m actually excited about ironing the dozen+ shirts that await me. It’s SOOO nice to actually be able to do mindless domestic duties. At that park earlier I stood, holding Heidi, with my face up to the sky, letting the sunshine wash over me, listening to Dutch’s peels of laughter as he ran around the park, savoring the sweet moment. Savoring the ability to give undivided attention to the moment.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved seminary. In fact, secret’s out: I might go back. Yes, I know, insane. I might go back next year and pursue another degree very slowly (like the 6-10 year plan). I love it. I love studying, teaching, all that. But oh glorious day today that I get to be a mommy without one eye on the clock knowing I need to attack a massive paper. Oh glorious day that I can iron clothes during the kids’ naps. Today I sat, all by myself after I put the kids down, and ate lunch without doing another darn thing. No multi-tasking! I didn’t check my email, I wasn’t scarfing down the remnants of Dutch’s leftover cheese sandwich, I wasn’t bouncing Heidi. I was just sitting, staring out into the glorious sunshine, scooping up beans and cheese with my Jaunita’s chips. Mmm. Sweet mindless bliss. 🙂
Nothing profound here, although I’m hoping to post something later about an intersting passage I read this morning… But had to share my joy in this day, this first day having completed everything. At least everything for now. We’ll see what tomorrow holds.
Wait, I'm ok–Weird.
Do you ever struggle with something for a long time, or want something so bad for a long time, and then all of a sudden you notice that you’re like strangely ok and you don’t remember getting ok you just all of a sudden notice you are? I noticed that tonight. I thought, “Wait, I’m ok, really ok–weird.” I noticed that I just felt so content, so ok with not having a home. We came home from our day of prayer event and arrived just as Nathan got home from his baseball game. Dutch threw his arms around Nathan’s legs as we asked him how it went (they won!). As I went in the bathroom to brush my teeth I teased Elisabeth about getting her up in the morning (I’m taking them to school tomorrow). I ran the dishwasher, filled up my water bottle, and collapsed into my amazingly comfortable bed. What’s not to love and savor about this evening? Sure Heidi sleeps in the closet, who cares? Sure my stuff is packed up and strewn in four different locations. It’s just stuff. And it’s not actually even that neat of stuff to tell you the truth. I don’t know. I guess it’s funny sometimes how things that are SO hard sometimes can be totally ok at other times. I mean, we do still need to move by the end of the month (or soon after) because that was our agreement, but it’s more like a matter-of-fact thing, a thing of necessity, not a thing that’s connected to my heart. That make sense? It’s external. (More on this in this post)
I really don’t know what God’s going to do. We’re going tomorrow to look at a house that’s just dropped its price significantly, but we just want wisdom. It’s just a funny feeling because I’ve been dying for so long to have a dream house, and all of a sudden I notice I don’t dream of houses anymore. I told Jeff last week, “I don’t have a dream house. I have a dream God. I want to be in the middle of His adventure more than anything else.” I’m not trying to sound all super spiritual–I’m sure in the next 24 hours I’ll be flat on my face crying over some ridiculousness or another. But I guess it’s just weird when God gently does surgery on your heart and you don’t really notice until all of a sudden something feels different.
Anyway, we’ll see what our crazy awesome God is up to. Right now I’m focusing and praying our Willamette Women’s Luncheon on Saturday where I have the super huge awesome privilege of speaking. Will you join me and pray that women will be blessed, touched, ministered to? For God’s glory and their good! Thanks, goodnight.
Times of Refreshing
Jeff just said, “Wow hon you haven’t blogged in awhile.” I know. I know I know I know. Right now my eyes are burning they’re so tired, the washing machine is humming, Heidi is asleep in the closet, and I’m feeling totally overwhelmed with preparing to speak at the women’s luncheon on Saturday. I know what I want to say but have no idea how to say it. So I just sit here and pray. And wait. And fold laundry. And try not to look at the stack of Jeff’s shirts to iron, that is now overflowing the edge of the laundry basket.
Today I had my last mentor meeting, handed in my final tally of internship hours–all 140 of them–and picked up my cap, gown, and hood. This hooding thing is strange. But that’s really irrelevant so we won’t go there. Yes, it has been four long years finishing my master’s in seminary. Yes, I’m excited to be done and to walk next Friday. But our life is so full right now I can hardly focus my blurry eyes let alone celebrate.
Here’s a fun snapshot of how life is–in the past five days I have scrubbed butt paste off two dozen surfaces, toys, books, clothes, quilts, bedding, and body parts. We had a marathon trip to McMinnville to get the last of our stuff, fix up some things, sign closing documents, and carted a trailer full of stuff off to park for five days. Jeff taught at multnomah, we havea stack of papers to grade, then we drove to Bend for a quick vacation before coming back Saturday, heading straight to church, staying up late to celebrate a birthday, heading to church services all morning Sunday, then a real marathon of delivering stuff to people’s houses to store for us, then going down to Corvallis to do a walk through with our renter who moved out and stage that house for sale. No details are needed but let’s just say that trip was one of the most emotionally exhausting things I’ve done in a long time. Jeff was mowing the lawn in the pouring down rain while I nursed Heidi on the floor and resorted to etertaining Dutch with Bob the Builder playing continuously on the laptop. We ate peanut butter sandwiches Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Yeah. Today Heidi and I braved the torrential downpour and went to the registrar’s office, the library, the computer lab, the seminary building, and then had dinner with my mentor. It was then, as I was sitting talking to my mentor about serious seminary matters when I shook my head and thought to myself, “Hm, that’s funny I only feel one earring dangling.” As she spoke I slowly lifted my hands up casually to my ears, trying to be sublte. Sure enough. One and only one big dangly earring. Awesome. Par for the course. Sure enough, I got home and there was the other one sitting on my nightstand. 🙂 So now I’m home and blurry eyed and asking God for grace to teach the women’s luncheon this Saturday. SO excited for it–but so tired.
But in the middle of all this we had the sweetest time of refreshing. An elder at church gave us a two night stay at Sunriver in their cabin. I was totally dragging my heels about going–with so much going on, it kind of just felt like another thing on my to-do list. Plus packing for our family of four includes a LOT of diapers and clothes and toys and sippy cups. In the midst of the busyness what suffered was apparently my attention to packing FOOD–we had two totino’s pizzas which I bought at walmart in Bend, two cans of soup, a loaf of bread with peanut butter and some oatmeal. Mmm. Nothing says luxurious vacation like sharing a can of soup with your toddler for dinner :-).
But it was SOOO great. I sound like I”m joking but I”m not. It was the most refreshing, sweet time we’ve experienced in so long. Just to sit in the car, with the kids occupied, and being able to actually talk, catch up, sing our hearts out to Chris Tomlin and Rend the Heavens, watch the fluffy white clouds against the brilliant blue Central Oregon sky. We lounged in our sweats, spent hours at the fantastic kiddi wading pool at the Sunriver aquatic center, and laughed our heads off as Dutch splashed and “swam” and slid down the water slide and ran around like a crazy boy. We hooked up with old friends, staying up late talking about how good our God is and what He’s doing in our lives. We walked for miles, thanking God again and again for our double stroller. We sipped tea. We napped. We prayed. We searched for houses online and dreamed and prayed some more. It was SO good.
So no real lesson here, I Just wanted to touch base. I’m drooling with anticipation of the wide open calendar I see in the very near future, after Saturday. For now I need to focus, study, pray, and be faithful, trusting God will meet His women on Saturday. But in the midst of a really crazy time, I’m so thankful for times of refreshing. And thankful for generous people who have Sunriver cabins. 🙂 However, just for the record, we’re not partial–we’ll take free vacations anywhere! Any offers?
My Boudreaux's Boy
I googled two things today: First, “Ok to use ground beef left out all night?” Some of you are cringing. In my whirlwind of putting away groceries I left the ground beef out in the garage on top of the fridge. Darn. Don’t worry, thew it away. Apparently others had asked the same question, so I found just the answer I needed.
The second item that I googled was: “How to clean butt paste off walls.” Yielded no useful results whatsoever. Apparently I am the first woman to ask this question.
Right after I wrote my last post, I close my laptop feeling comtemplative and peaceful. I sit down on the couch to read my Bible when I hear Dutch playing with his little toy garage while he should be napping. For a second I thought I’d just ignore it and let him be, then thought better of it. “I better be consistent,” I tell myself and crack open his door for quick chiding. As open the door I notice it smells like Boudreaux’s butt paste. Hm. I look closer and narrow my eyes trying to register what I see. My son is white. I mean, he’s always been caucasian, but my son is WHITE. Covered in WHITE. His face, his hair, his clothes. COVERED. I look closer and my mouth drops open. The WALLS are white, his quilt is white, his dresser is white. Closer look–books, toys, pillow, carpet–EVERYTHING is covered in oily, thick, creamy white butt paste. My heart sinks as I look down and see the enormous was-full tub of diaper cream…empty.
Mind you, we live with Dombrows…in their brand new house…with brand new walls…which are now covered in diaper cream!
I was so horrified I didn’t even know how to respond. I turned around, closed the door, and stood like a buffoon. Finally I dialed my mom and told her what happened. “What do I do?!” There was nothing else to do but go back in, discipline him, then have him go downstairs and tell Joy what he did. I carried him downstairs, not wanting him to touch anything, and told Joy.
To make a long story short, we experienced grace today. Joy laughed. Laughed, and assured me it was ok. Not only that, she came in and helped me clean. I washed DUtch’s hair five times and still couldn’t get the paste out. Tomorrow I’m going to try dish soap (cuts grease, right?). We wiped down the walls, dresser, gathered up all the linens and toys…and now that task awaits me as we speak.
Two little nuggets from the situation. One was the beauty of grace. Later, after spending our afternoon scrubbing the smelly oily mess, Joy got down on the floor and played trucks with Dutch. Later this evening Nathan (their son and Dutch’s hero), made a powerpoint slideshow talking about all the fun things about Dutch, even including a picture of him. He gathered us all up, both families, to sit in the office and watch the special presentation about his little miniature friend. That is grace. When he least deserved it, Joy and Nathan both chose to bless my little son…despite his naughty curiosity.
And a little merciful kiss from God. Though everything was covered, including all of Dutch’s books, the only book without a speck of paste on it was the book we’d checked out from the library. God somehow kept the libarary book without a spot. Though truly a mess, thank you Jesus that at least I don’t have to buy that stupid book! Little mercies along the crazy journey of mommyhood. 🙂
If you’re curious, you can see pics here. I better sign off now…I have some cleaning to do…
The Warrior is a Child
Have you ever had to be brave and strong and courageous for an intense period of time, and then when the moment was finally over you just crumbled into a heap of tears? I remember in Brasil, when Tom Jones and I were leading a team in Rio de Janiero, one of the most dangerous cities in Brasil. Earlier in the day Tom warded off a guy who was stalking me down the street, and then that night there was a murder shooting right outside our front door. The girls on the team were scared and hysterical, and we had to jump to attention and get everyone calmed down, figure out safety precautions, talk through things with people. It was intense and it was critical that we carried the team through the emotion of it all. That night, when everyone was asleep and calmed down, I finally crumbled and quietly cried myself to sleep.
I remember during the first Spring Drama, which I wrote about in When God Broke My Heart (right, under Featured), it was several months of incredible intensity. Rehearsals, prayer times, planning, fundraising, planning the alter call after the event. I remember in one of our church prayer meetings they were laying hands on me and Kristen Wilson, our director, and praying for us, and afterwards one of the elders said God had laid a song on his heart to share with me. Later he emailed me the words, The Warrior is a Child. They stuck with me ever since. And when that event was over, having fought and strove and worked and prayed and given, I too lay at home and cried. Over. Done. Blessed by God’s word but unspeakably overwhelmed with the enormity of it all.
I would hardly consider myself a warrior, but let’s face it–life as a woman called to serve our God with reckless abandon, as well as serve and love our husbands, care for our children, and fulfill the myriad responsibilities that come with womanhood–this life requires us to be warriors. And the truth of the matter is that we are warriors. We fool ourselves when we whine and complain and insist that it’s too hard or that we can’t do it. We can do it because God has called us to. But inside, don’t we all feel like the secret truth is that we’re nothing but scared little girls?
Sunday night I finished my last seminary assignment. Last. Four long amazing stressful wonderful miraculous years. Two children. Four moves. Living with people, working, serving, balancing. God’s faithfulness has been so amazing that as I sat in my mentor’s office for the last time last night I wept. I wept because I’m tired. I wept because I’ve poured my life into this for four years and now i”m done. I wept because God is so good and has shown Himself so miraculously in my life that it brought me to my knees. I wept because I feel like God has called me to a warrior life, and the truth is I’m nothing but a child. I’ma little girl. Weak. Scared. Tired. And yet my blessed mentor, in her amazing way, reminded me of the call of a warrior. That we are called to be warriors. That though it might feel like we can’t hold on one more moment in whatever we’re called to. We can. We can hold on a little longer. We can do it. We can be faithful to whatever God has called us to. Even though the warrior is a child. In fact, because the warrior is a child.
Lately I've been winning battles left and right But even winners can get wounded in the fight People say that I'm amazing Strong beyond my years But they don't see inside of me I'm hiding all the tears They don't know that I go running home when I fall down They don't know who picks me up when no one is around I drop my sword and cry for just a while 'Cause deep inside this armor The warrior is a child Unafraid because His armor is the best But even soldiers need a quiet place to rest People say that I'm amazing Never face retreat But they don't see the enemies That lay me at His feet They don't know that I go running home when I fall down They don't know who picks me up when no one is around I drop my sword and and cry for just a while 'Cause deep inside this armor the warrior is a child They don't know that I go running home when I fall down They don't know who picks me up when no one is around I drop my sword and look up for a smile 'Cause deep inside this armor Deep inside this armor Deep inside this armor The Warrior is a Child
Do you ever feel like this? We are blessed, dear women, to be both warrior and child. I pray you’re encouraged today to be both.
Thoughts from the Slumdog
Jeff and I rarely watch movies because it seems you have to see about a dozen duds, filled with sex and stupidity, before seeing anything worth your time. Besides, there’s not much time in the evening to watch a movie in between 8pm Dutch bedtime and 8:30pm self-imposed Mommy bedtime! 🙂 But this week I had the joy of being at the beach with my dear Aunt and Uncle and cousin. Jeff joined us Friday and we decided we could be wild and crazy and actually stay up late enough to watch a movie. They had Slumdog Millionaire. Never heard of it. (I know, I know, I’m ridiculously out of touch with the movie scene, I saw that it was like Best Picture for 2008 or something).
Wow. Wow wow wow. By way of warning, there is a lot of violence, and it’s not a light, fun, easy to watch movie. But wow. I love movies that are eye-opening and this one surely was that.
A few things have haunted me since. The movie taught a truth that God promises to His children. That He works all things for good (Romans 8:28). The main character, Jamal, is violently interrogated as to how on earth he managed to know the answers to every single question on the Indian version of “Who wants to be a millionaire?” With each question, Jamal recounts, and we witness, the hair-raising, sickening, tragic accounts of how his life growing up in the slums as an orphan prepared him in miraculous ways for each and every question he encountered. It’s moving beyond words. If only we had a movie of our lives, and perhaps someday we will, I believe we would be astounded as we see the ways that the painful and at times torturing things God allows us to endure actually turn out to be the very things that better us, bless us, bring us “riches” so to speak. We don’t necessarily become millionaires, but we benefit because all of life is Father-Filtered.
Secondly, and related to that, I was reminded again of the beautiful sovereignty of God. In the movie they would call it destiny. The ultimate reason that Jamal, the Indian slumdog, won the 10 million rupees was because “it is written.” It is written. Jamal was given the choice over and over throughout his life to choose right. His life is contrasted with his brother, Salim, who did not make the right choices. But while Jamal made the wise choices, his “destiny” was written. As children of God we can rest in this! Though we are called to choose, and it hinges on our choices, “it is written” for us! God’s beautiful destiny is written for us. We have a purpose. We are called by His name.
And lastly, a certain line has stayed with me. When Jamal finally finds beautiful Latika, the little girl from the slums who was separated from them as children, he holds her face in his hands. “I love you.” He finally says. “So what?” is here reply.
So what? She loved him too. She never forgot or quit hoping that he would return. But so what? What could they do? Love or no love, she was the prisoner. She had no choice, no money, no identity. She was hardly anything more than a slave, a concubine really. So what? So what could Jamal’s love do for her?
I don’t want to give away the end, but in essence Jesus Christ has found us. He has bought us, delivered us, searched to the ends of the earth for our heart, for our affections. So what? What does this mean? How will we respond? Today Joel preached one phrase from John 3:!6, “So loved the world.” Love. Love always required action. God so loved the world THAT He did something. When we love God we will obey HIs commands.
So what? So everything. The love of Christ changes everything. When He finds us (we don’t find Him, by the way!), it changes everything. We are regenerated, made new, by the power of His love. We are set free from the bondage of the slums of sin. We, the slumdog, become a millionaire, rich in grace, rich in life. Oh how perfect are His ways, how precious His love, His grace. His love changes everything. Believe this today.