Showing posts with label stuff my kids say. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stuff my kids say. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Sssshhh....it's a secret.


(I also posted this for the Joli blog today, so if you've already visited there and read this, my apologies.)


The other day, my son, Drummer Boy, told me something funny. You know, the cute stuff kids say when they’re the ripe old age of seven-almost-eight.

“Wait, repeat that!” I told him while grabbing my phone to capture this moment for posterity.

“No,” he replied nonchalantly.

“What? Why not?” I asked, phone in my hand, ready to win this round.


“Because, you’re going to put it on Facebook or something, and I don’t want it to be where everyone can see it,” he stated, bluntly, and innocently forcing me to re-think my integrity as a parent.

Long story short, I didn’t post it to Facebook, the internet, or my blog.

It was left between Drummer Boy and myself.

A moment.

One of a series of moments that make up the story of our life together.

A moment that will be shared with his dad, his sister, his grandparents.

But not with random strangers he doesn’t know.

There is an entire blog I could devote to the subject of how fine a line there really is between sharing cute stuff your children do, and exploiting them for entertainment. But this is not that blog.

I saw something in what my son said that spoke to the very heart of why I do ministry, and what motivates my teaching.

How often do I take something God told me in the Secret Place and use it in a teaching or a song?

Too many to count, really.

Nothing wrong with that, right?

Usually....no.

Unless, God wanted to speak to my heart a secret for only me.

A secret no one else should know right now.

Many times in Jesus’ ministry He did a miracle, or revealed a secret about Himself, and then would say, “Tell no one.”

The shepherds ran to the manger and saw the Baby Jesus. They knew He was the Messiah, they heard the angels’ song, heard the angelic proclamation. They left the stable to tell everyone that Jesus was born.

What did Mary do?

“But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19)

Sometimes, God gives us secret things to treasure and ponder in our heart.

God promised me my husband would come back to his first Love again.

Biker Man was angry at God. After the death of our son, he wanted nothing to do with ministry, or even deeper relationship with Jesus. He didn’t even know he was mad at God, actually.

I knew. And so many times over the next several years, I wanted to tell him, to show him how wrong he was in his response.

But the Holy Spirit said, “Be quiet. Say nothing. Stay out of it. This is his wrestling match with the Almighty. Before it’s over, I will touch him and his walk will never be the same.”

(for another story like this, read Genesis 32:22-32.)

So I bit my tongue, prayed more, and in the process of pondering, learned my husband’s love language in a way I never would have, had I blabbed my word from the Lord.

And now, he walks with a limp.

I’m in awe of the overwhelming power of the love of our Heavenly Father.

He will keep His promises.

He will fulfill His Word.

He is faithful.

And sometimes, we have to keep it a secret.

Ponder it, pray over it, and wait in patience for the promise to be fulfilled.


It is so worth the wait.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

That Doesn't Mean You're Going To Hell



Drummer Boy tries to take on the big issues all by himself.

All alone.

I'm glad he doesn't hold it all in. He shares his opinions with us.

Freely.

But today, he broke my heart.

"I'm probably going to hell," he sobbed, as we sat on the couch together.
"Why would you say that, son?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Because I never get picked for anything in kids' church!" He wailed, falling into my arms.

Okay. We have a big children's ministry. There is no way they can pick everyone. It's a great children's church. Second to none.
And also, wow, what a leap of theology to make all on your own.

I turned to him immediately and said, "Son, you're not going to hell."
"How do you know?" he sniffled.
"Because, you asked Jesus into your heart, right?"
"Uh huh," he nodded.
"And you're living for Him, and talking to Him everyday?"
"Yes," he looked up at me hopefully.
"And when you disobey, do you ask Him for forgiveness?"
"I do!"
"Well then," I explained, "You are going to Heaven, because the Bible says that if you believe in Jesus, ask Him to be Lord of your life, and live your life with Him as the Center, you are going to Heaven."
"But then, why don't they pick me at church?" (He just wouldn't let that go.)
"Maybe because you're jumping around when it's time to be quiet?" I tried.
"Well, I do get excited when I go up there," he admitted reluctantly.
"The most important thing is learning about Jesus, and worshiping Him, not getting picked," I told him.
"And I'm not going to hell!" Drummer Boy proclaimed triumphantly.

That was easy enough to explain to my son, but how many times do I impose what has happened to me in The Church as what God thinks of me? Making up theology based on your personal experience alone, is always dangerous, especially if you don't check it out with God's infallible Word.

I'm just saying.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Carrying Myself


We have had a bout of sickness in our house this week.
All week.
Fevers, coughing...and much much more I will spare you the details of.
As a result, both children are tired and sore, just from the overuse of certain muscles it takes to cough and...other things.
(See? I'm really trying to be socially polite. Aren't you impressed?)

Ellie was lying in bed about to go to sleep last night, when I came into her room.
"Mom, my legs hurt from carrying myself."
I really did try to suppress a smile, but was unsuccessful.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Because I love you so much. I'm sorry your legs hurt."
"It's okay, Mom. Love you, night," she replied, rolling over and closing her eyes.
"I love you too, baby," I said, kissing her.

I was still smiling as I walked into the living room, thinking about Ellie's comment.
Then it hit me.
How many times do I wear myself out from all the effort of trying to do everything I want to do for my family, ministry, and friends? It's pretty common, I think, with us girls.
And my legs have hurt from carrying myself.
Jesus was waiting all along to carry me when I was overwhelmed.
But sometimes, I just pick up rocks too heavy for me. (I don't have a link to the exact post, but Mama Belle wrote a post awhile back about laying down what Jesus hasn't asked you to carry. It's really good.)
Didn't our Father say, "Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."