Disappointed

Disappointment is so rampant in my life. It occurs numerous times on a daily basis. I feel like I walk around discouraged and defeated. When will I ever learn my lesson?

Quite often, I inform my husband that I would do so much better living the Christian life if only I could eliminate people. Of course, I follow up my comment with a laugh because I know that is impossible. I wouldn't be living if I weren't surrounded by others. God created us for relationships.

I am tired of hurting, though. That is the reason I want to give up. I want to quit loving at times. When I open my heart to people, it is more than likely that it will get broken. No one is perfect. So why do I find it such a shock every time I am pained by someone I've invested my life in?

Some days I just feel alone. Reality is that I have people who love me and care about my feelings. It is just that their actions or neglect leave me curling up in the fetal position in an attempt to escape the pain. All too often, I focus on the source of my pain.

I have just joined an online study on the book, A Confident Heart, by Renee Swope. In the first chapter alone, I have found so much encouragement. In particular, the quote of Isaiah 49:23 reminded me of why my outlook on relationships gets so askew.

"Those who hope in me will not be disappointed." Hope in Him. My eyes too easily come off of God. I look to my husband for hope. Disappointment. I look to my children for hope. Disappointment. My extended family. My friends. Even the church. Disappoint. Disappoint. Disappoint. "Those who trust in me will not be disappointed."

Sounds like a promise of truth to cling to. Especially when I'm feeling  let down by this world. Trust in God. He doesn't disappoint.

Dear Daughters: Loving our Neighbors

My Dearest Daughters,

As I pull into the driveway, I see the pile of garbage at the curb that our neighbors left behind. I feel the pain rising up in my chest. It's not because I formed some lasting bond in the past one-and-one-half-years with these people. My heart aches for you.

"I wish he didn't have to move." These are the words that sting my heart over and over as the curbside trash reminds me once again. No one will be knocking on our door to play outside with you. The tears are flowing now because I wonder if I attempted to hold too tightly to my own life as I denied you the pleasure of the times I didn't realize were so limited.

I used to dread the possibility of the doorbell ringing. It interrupted my alone time and peace. His request meant I couldn't keep to my agenda for the day. While I tried to embrace the moment, I kept them at an arms distance with fear that my safe life would be invaded with requests I couldn't maintain.

Now I realize it was only for a season. Honestly, I can do anything for a season. That's why I worry that I let you down... and him as well. It was such a short time that you had the chance to play with this boy. And every moment he interacted with our family was an opportunity to be Jesus to him.

Did we achieve this? Will he think back on his time here on Arden Place and remember us as the neighbors who lived a little differently? As he recalls the instances where he became part of our family each week, will He love Jesus more for it? Fond memories can do a lot as we get older. Will his drive him to Jesus?

It isn't even so much that you formed a close bond with our now former neighbor. It was just the excitement of having another child across the street to play with. The fact that someone wanted your time. That, and you had a lot of fun together. He was a nice kid. It showed in the fact that he intentionally came over just to say goodbye.

I wish I could promise you that we will see him again. Honestly, I just can't say for certain. Our worlds unexpectedly connected because they became our neighbors during that Blizzard of 2011. In the year-and-a-half that they lived here, I learned a lot. I was so used to growing up with my closest neighbors a mile in each direction. Being neighborly did not come naturally. I like to protect my down time here at home and that is to my fault. It was a growing experience for me. I learned when to say "yes" and when to say "no". I learned that not everyone thinks the way I do and God loves us all. We are all unique and there is something worth loving in everyone and learning from them as well.

Some people come into our lives just for a season. I believe this was the case with them. They may surprise us and contact us in the future. I hope so. It would be nice to see you smile and laugh with your unlikely friend again. But know this: I am changed because they were our neighbors. I will live more intentionally because of our interactions with them. And I will teach you to do the same. After all, this is how Jesus calls us to live.

"Jesus replied, 'You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself." - Matthew 22:37-39

I love you,

Mommy

Balance in Life and a Blog Hop

Have you found balance? Please share tips and tricks! And if you're seeking balance, what are the areas you find hardest to juggle?

Oftentimes, as Christians (better yet, as Christian moms), we find ourselves in the role of martyr. We neglect ourselves as we strive to serve those around us, believing this is best for everyone involved. Unfortunately, the more we disregard our own needs (all in name of righteousness, of course), everyone seems to suffer.

Every time I abandon the practices that are necessary to maintain balance in my life, it is out of the belief that I can do life on my own. In my own power, I reason that I should be the best wife in the world, super mom to my children, a best friend to everyone who wants one and the most selfless servant that has ever lived. Until I crumble, that is. And I will. I break down EVERY time. All because I try to do it in my own strength.

Inevitably, when I quit taking time for myself, Bible study, prayer and meditation take a back seat to the responsibilities of life. My relationship with God suffers. Therefore, I no longer have the lifeline that is so vital to my existence. Jesus' words ring true in my life: "Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing." (John 15:4-5)

Not only do I cut myself off from The Vine, I allow my health to suffer. I give no concern to what I goes into my body and this always effect the output of my mouth. When I feel lousy about myself (because I can't possibly find time to exercise or plan to eat healthy) my self-esteem drops. With low self-esteem, every little frustration causes my anger to erupt.

A few months back, I woke up in the morning and decided to reclaim Saturday mornings as my own. Thankfully, I have a husband that fully supports these refueling moments. He embraces the daddy-daughter time, knowing that I will come back a better wife and mother. These mornings for me lately have been focusing on my physical health. I hope to perfect my time alone to include meditation, reading and writing in the future. These are what truly fuel my soul. For now, I find no guilt in grabbing small moments for these purposes throughout the day. I like people but I need time alone to be at my best.

I am learning that there really was a season in my life where consistent, weekly, scheduled time alone needed to be pushed aside. Thankfully, that was only a season. Martyrdom and I don't mix well. Probably because I'm too quick to remind everyone of the burdens I am carrying. Being a true martyr doesn't come with complaining.

For me, finding balance in my life is pushing aside the complaints along with the false title of martyr. I need to embrace my roles as wife and mother. This is much easier to do when I remain in The Vine and give thanks for the many blessings He has given me. It's not selfish. Even Jesus went away from the crowds to spend time alone with God. I'm simply following His example.

What ways do you pursue balance in your life?

Good Friday's Uncomfortable Silence

The first time I went to the Good Friday service offered by my church, I was very uncomfortable. The room was dark and lit with candles. As I sat in silence waiting for the service to start, I soon realized the silence was intentional and this was the experience offered. I continued to squirm in my seat as the eerie quiet forced me to reflect on what Jesus did for me over 2000 years ago.

Silence and darkness are not an environment I welcome. These days, it is rare to find those moments where we can just reflect. Noise is so commonplace that if I walk into the house without my children, I reach for the television remote to break the silence and feel a bit more comfortable.

We want to be comfortable. Especially in America. This Lenten season, in particular, I have realized that comfort is a big obstacle in my relationship with God. For it is in my uneasiness that God draws me closer to Him. In the silence, I can hear the voice of God.

Tonight, Southfield Community Church is offering a Good Friday service at The Warehouse at 7pm. There is no childcare provided. Those in attendance will be forced to reflect on the pain and suffering Jesus went through for one purpose alone. I am still far from comfortable when I attend but I know I will experience God.

If you are unable to attend a Good Friday service, can I challenge you to spend a few minutes in uncomfortable silence reflecting on what Jesus did for you? The remembrance of this weekend is not only the foundation for our faith, but for our life and for eternity as well.

Who believes what we've heard and seen? Who would have thought God's saving power would look like this?

The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling, a scrubby plant in a parched field. There was nothing attractive about him, nothing to cause us to take a second look. He was looked down on and passed over, a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand. One look at him and people turned away. We looked down on him, thought he was scum. But the fact is, it was our pains he carried— our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us. We thought he brought it on himself, that God was punishing him for his own failures. But it was our sins that did that to him, that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins! He took the punishment, and that made us whole. Through his bruises we get healed. We're all like sheep who've wandered off and gotten lost. We've all done our own thing, gone our own way. And God has piled all our sins, everything we've done wrong, on him, on him.

He was beaten, he was tortured, but he didn't say a word. Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered and like a sheep being sheared, he took it all in silence. Justice miscarried, and he was led off— and did anyone really know what was happening? He died without a thought for his own welfare, beaten bloody for the sins of my people. They buried him with the wicked, threw him in a grave with a rich man, Even though he'd never hurt a soul or said one word that wasn't true.

Still, it's what God had in mind all along, to crush him with pain. The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin so that he'd see life come from it—life, life, and more life. And God's plan will deeply prosper through him.

Out of that terrible travail of soul, he'll see that it's worth it and be glad he did it. Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant, will make many "righteous ones," as he himself carries the burden of their sins. Therefore I'll reward him extravagantly— the best of everything, the highest honors— Because he looked death in the face and didn't flinch, because he embraced the company of the lowest. He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many, he took up the cause of all the black sheep.

Isaiah 53 (The Message)

Uncomfortably Satisfied

I would have fallen asleep.

"Then he returned to the disciples and found them asleep. He said to Peter, “Couldn’t you watch with me even one hour? Keep watch and pray, so that you will not give in to temptation. For the spirit is willing, but the body is weak!” (Matthew 26:40-41 NLT) The last part of this verse really sums up my relationship with God. I desire Him. Truly, I do. And yet, I fail miserably. All too often, I choose comfort. 99 times out of 100, I'll take the easy way out. That's why, assuming I had the privilege of being asked by Jesus to pray with him the night he was arrested, I believe my tired body would have won.

A couple of years ago, I felt challenged to give up something for the Lenten season. This was a first in my life. I didn't grow up participating in the practice of Lent. I understood that every day was to be lived for God so I never really understood what was so special about people giving up meat on Fridays. Not to mention the fact that many of the people I knew who participated in this practice could not explain to me why they did it.

As an adult, conversations continued in seeking the explanation behind this season called "Lent". People I love and respect were able to back up what they believed with what they practiced. And maybe, a part of me was finally able to admit I was a bit self-righteous. I quit judging and spent a little more time listening. After truly examining my heart and admitting I was a more than slightly uncomfortable with this out-of-the-norm-practice for my life, I got real. I decided my reasoning that we were to sacrifice daily for God was a cop-out. Maybe it was time for me to experience a bit of discomfort. It didn't matter what others did or why they did it. All that mattered was whether or not I was willing to step out of my comfort zone in order to experience more of God.

"You satisfy me more than the richest feast." These words in Psalm 63:5 convicted my heart. I was faced with whether I truly believed this verse. If I was completely honest with myself, I had to answer "no". Given the choice between sweet foods or my Savior, the actions of my life spoke volumes as to who (or what) was on the throne of my life. So, for a Lenten season, I fasted from sweets. It was a growing experience that drew me closer to Christ. Every time I found myself reaching for desserts, I was faced with "What truly satisfies?"

Reintroducing rich foods into my diet on Easter, I found myself back to the old ways of relying on food to fill my emotions. Where do I turn for comfort? In times of stress, is the pantry or refrigerator the first place I turn? I found it to be no coincidence that Bible verse after Bible verse spoke to my heart and had me thinking about my relationship with food as well as my relationship with God. "Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him! Fear the Lord, you his godly people, for those who fear him will have all they need. Even strong young lions sometimes go hungry, but those who trust in the Lord will lack no good thing." (Psalm 34:10 NLT)

This year, I didn't give up anything specifically for Lent. My understanding of this practice is to focus our minds and hearts on what Jesus did at Calvary for us. As we find ourselves reaching for the forbidden-fruit-for-a-season, our eyes should be turned to God as we talk to Him in prayer and remember the reason behind the abstinence. It was months ago that my heart was convicted to dethrone desserts as the god of my life.

Now, I realize that some may find my reference to chocolate as a deity extreme. After all, everyone needs to be able to enjoy a little celebration every now and then. While I agree, our celebrations should not come at the expense of our relationship with Jesus. (Not to mention that my celebrations occurred all too often as well as alone.) "You say, 'I am allowed to do anything'—but not everything is good for you. And even though 'I am allowed to do anything,' I must not become a slave to anything. You say, 'Food was made for the stomach, and the stomach for food.' (This is true, though someday God will do away with both of them.) ...They were made for the Lord, and the Lord cares about our bodies. And God will raise us from the dead by his power, just as he raised our Lord from the dead." (1 Corinthians 6:12-14)

"Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and he will give you everything you need." (Luke 12:31) This is my calling: to seek God above all else. ANYTHING that creeps into this position outside of God is an idol in my life. I'm quick to say I live for Jesus. But are my actions shouting louder than my words in contradiction? When Jesus is asking me where I stand in my relationship with Him, would I rather have the rich feast or the riches of God? What is it that truly satisfies my soul?

As Jesus spoke to his beloved disciples on the night he was arrested, I am living in a new light these days. For in my own strength, I will fail. It's with my eyes on Jesus that I will truly experience the fullness of the best He has for me. "Then he returned to the disciples and found them asleep. He said to Peter, “Couldn’t you watch with me even one hour? Keep watch and pray, so that you will not give in to temptation. For the spirit is willing, but the body is weak!” (Matthew 26:40-41 NLT)

What is it that you feel you can't live without? The only answer to this should be Jesus. In the end, He is all that will matter.