weeklythoughtexchange

I had leukemia as a young child and ever since I was old enough to truly understand the significance of that ordeal, I have worried about the effects it would have on my ability to bear children. Despite my doctors’ assurances that all would be well, I still worried. I prayed and tried to trust and rested in the hope that all would be fine. However, my fears increased when I got married. Now the truth would be revealed. As a single woman I could always delay knowing the truth, but marriage would be the final test. Again, people said not to worry if we didn’t get pregnant right away, but as newlywed couple after newlywed couple quickly conceived I battled my fears in tears. I beseeched God for peace, but He seemed so silent.

Finally, during a chapel service at our school, God spoke to my heart. He confronted me with pointed words. He said that I was wanting a child for my own sake and that was why I was in such turmoil over my empty womb. I needed to view my future offspring (whether one or many) as His children – selected and designed for His purposes. Yes, I would have the privilege of being entrusted with their care, but ultimately they would be on earth for the furtherance of His kingdom and glory. These children would come at an appointed time because only God could foresee when He would need them the most. Immediate peace flooded my heart and I clung to that encounter with God as the weeks passed.

As I write this my womb is no longer empty. It has been filled for the past 17 weeks and as this little one grows, so does my anticipation for this child’s purpose. I often ponder, with a hint of regret, about this child’s new life. All this new being has every known is the heart of God and my secure womb. These little ears have never heard crass language or the Almighty God’s name taken in vain. These brand new eyes have never seen Playboy images or sex scenes on TV. This tiny brain has never doubted the existence of God or considered harming a fellow being. Most of all, this fresh heart has never experienced guilt, shame, jealousy, anger, loneliness, fear, or any other negative emotion that haunts the human existence.

Yes, it is entering an evil world. Yes, it will experience the effects of being born with sin-tainted DNA. Yes, it will make mistakes – some deliberately and some in ignorance. Nevertheless, this child comes with a promise. He (or she) is being designed for such a time as this. This brand new human being has an integral part to play in redeeming mankind for God’s glory. As the mother of this special child, I will make sure that not a day goes by without God’s child being reminded of this.

It is just beginning to enter my consciousness that there is a new life growing inside of me; a life that never before has been known in the history of mankind. This child’s DNA, fingerprints, and hair count are unlike anyone else’s. There never has been and there never will be anyone just like this new child. Yet even more than this wonder about the physical development of this tiny person, is the awe being impressed upon my heart about the spiritual potential within this fresh human.
The Bible speaks frequently about God knitting each individual together in the mother’s woman; about knowing our inward parts before we were even conceived; about the number of our days being written in His book. My mind cannot bear the greatness of the thought that God is intimately designing and growing my child within me at this very moment! This new awareness is prompting me to be in deeper communication with God regarding my baby. I have been asking Him to show me what to pray and here is what He has shared with me:
Dear Jesus, Creator of my child,
I humbly thank you for this most precious of all gifts – to be a part of your master plan for this little person. I have been asking you to cultivate within me a mother’s heart that honors you. I am praying what you have laid on my heart regarding this baby.
As you knit my son or daughter together, please develop a mind that is ready to think critically, learn avidly, and understand clearly. I ask that these new eyes and ears which are still being intricately put together would be attentive to only that which pleases you. May words which uplift be frequently upon this child’s tongue and may Your Word be familiar to this little one’s lips.
I saw how active my baby’s arms and legs were and I know that miniscule fingernails and toenails are forming at this moment. It is my prayer that those hands will only reach out in service to others and in worship to You. May they open Your Word with eagerness every day and may they lift up those who have fallen. I plead with you to keep those tiny feet on Your straight and narrow path. May they walk with the wise and not stray to the right or to the left. I hope that should someone ever follow my child’s footsteps they would lead only homeward or heavenward. May they run with endurance that race that is marked out for us.
Closest to this new mother’s heart is the urgent plea for my baby’s heart. From the moment this little heart started beating I ask that it was marked out for You. I so desperately desire that this girl or boy would ever be sensitive to Your Truth. Please fill me and my husband with the wisdom and discernment necessary to train this eternal soul up in the way that leads to You. I beg You to keep us in tune with You so that we will know how to shepherd this new lamb in Your flock. Claim this child for Your honor and glory.
From a mother’s heart I ask these things in Your name,
Amen

Graphic Image Alert – not for young children to view.

There are many things to blog about these days – the national deficit, the national debt, possible presidential candidates, alternative energy, foreign oil, our failing public education system, turmoil in the Middle East, and wary alliances with Russia and China – just to name a few. However, the recent 41st anniversary of Roe Vs. Wade which legalized abortion in America and having just seen my actively growing child in our first ultrasound forced me to confront the pro-choice vs. pro-life debate once more. But let me do a little history review first.

From the years 1939-1945, it is estimated that nearly 6 million people were exterminated by the Nazi regime in Hitler’s concentration camps. Auschwitz was the largest of these death mills. The people were forced to slave labor while on starvation rations, packed into the gas “showers” to the point where some were even laying on top of the heads of those standing, and many were used in torturous medical experiments. Families were split apart as soon as they arrived at the camp. The children and frail women were immediately sent to the showers, and their bodies were taken to the crematory oven by other prisoners, some of them family members. More than 1 million Jewish people were slaughtered in Auschwitz alone. (http://www.history.com/topics/auschwitz/photos#remembering-the-holocaust) I could go into gruesome detail about the living deaths of the people in Auschwitz, but let me have the pictures speak for themselves.

Children at Auschwitz

Sacks of human hair from Auschwitz victims

Piles of clothing from the Auschwitz child victims

Two of Auschwitz’s innocent victims. They did not survive.

A mass grave of with child corpses.

The remains of medical experiments.

Medical experimentation being done on children.

As Hitler’s power increased and his sinister plot became more evident, his victims pleaded to the world for intervention. The response? Silence. Denial. Refusal to get involved. Eventually the world did step in, but it was too late for the 6 million voices which had been silenced.

Hindsight has 20/20 vision we all like to say. When we read our history books in class it’s easy to shake our heads and point our fingers in righteous indignation at those who could have changed history but did not. “That will never happen again!” is the comforting mantra of pious Americans. Is that so?

In America there are an estimated 582 abortion clinics (http://www.breitbart.com/Big-Government/2013/12/30/Report-Record-87-Surgical-Abortion-Clinic-Closures-In-2013) and between these clinics over three thousand abortions are performed per day (http://www.all.org/nav/index/heading/OQ/cat/MzQ/id/NjA3OQ/). To put it bluntly, there are 582 death mills in our country where over three thousand babies are being murdered each day. They are either set on fire with a saline solution injected into them, pulled apart piece by piece until the head can be reached and crushed, suctioned alive out of the womb, or partially delivered alive and then have their brains sucked out. Since 1973 over 55 million babies have been legally murdered in America. I could go into more gruesome detail, but I will let the pictures speak for themselves:

Hand of a first trimester abortion victim.

First trimester abortion

First trimester abortion

Baby aborted during second trimester.

Second trimester abortion victim

Baby killed during third trimester abortion.

Third trimester abortion

Third trimester abortion

Abortion pictures are from PriestsForLife.org.

Over the past forty-one years the blood of these children, our children! has cried from the ground. Their silent screams are echoing throughout the land, pleading for intervention. The response? Silence. Denial. Refusal to get involved. “It’s too political,” we say. “It’s not happening in my neighborhood,” said with a relieved shoulder shrug. “I don’t agree with abortion, but I can’t judge their situation,” we tactfully murmur. “I am against abortion, but I support a woman’s right to choose,” we safely comment. Tell that to the Jewish mom watching her children suffocate in the gas chambers. Look in the eyes of the Jewish man who has been ripped from the arms of his family, knowing theirs is a certain death, and calmly share your excuses for not getting involved. Declare that to the little baby being brutalized as you refuse to get your hands dirty with political incorrectness. Look in the mirror and tell yourself that you support murder; don’t bother washing your hands; the blood won’t come off until you’re willing to get your hands dirty by shutting down death mills.

This past week I have been discussing Christmas with my students. It goes without say that they are having as much difficulty staying in their seats and focusing on sentence structures as a puppy would keeping a biscuit on his nose. But because I believe they need depth in order to mature as individuals, I took the time to lead them to a deeper understanding of the meaning behind Christmas. In the process, I learned a few new things myself.

When a student asked me, “Which Christmas do you want me to write about?” I realized that there really are two different Christmases vying for our attention. There is the Christmas that acknowledges Jesus with His angel helpers, the stable and sheep, and His family; then there is the Christmas that celebrates Santa with his elf helpers, his workshop and reindeer, and Mrs. Claus. It is certainly the latter that garners the squeals of delight from excited children and has a repertoire of songs flooding the airwaves and the shopping malls. The problem isn’t with Santa or Rudolph. The problem is that we are being pressured to believe in them and push Jesus out.

Think about it for a moment. As our children memorize Rudolph’s melody, watch light parades, receive holiday greetings and write letters to Santa, Who are they not thinking about? I had my students watch a clip from THE NATIVITY STORY followed by a clip from THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST. Seeing the infant face, so tender and innocent and then seeing the agonized face of the crucified Savior bloodied with the sins of the world, helped us all recognize the sobering beauty of Christmas.

In my living room, I have all of my nativity scenes displayed on the same table. Each one emphasizes a different perspective of Christmas – the angels, the shepherds, the Wise Men, and the Holy Family. Together they symbolize the intricacies of God’s plan to save mankind and pour out His love upon a corrupt and broken world. The manger leads to a cross, the cross to a tomb, and the tomb to a relationship with the Risen Savior. If we don’t remember the whole story, then this Christmas is no different than an empty tale about the North Pole.

The word ‘advent’ means ‘coming.’ The tradition of celebrating Advent builds the anticipation of the Christ Child’s arrival on Christmas Eve. To me it is a significant reminder that as Christ once came, He is coming again. Concurrently, it reminds me that a new year is coming and with that new year, new changes. New people will enter my life and some will leave it. New responsibilities will be added and some will conclude. Refining will happen within me, causing me to end old, stagnant habits and develop new, thriving ones. Advent prepares the heart for the Christmas season.

Today is the first day of Advent for this year and marks the beginning of the first advent with my husband. As we discuss and prepare our own traditions to bring the most meaning into this holy time, my thoughts drift backwards to the traditions and values instilled in me by my own parents. Until I moved into my own home and began living the life I had spent so many years preparing for, I did not realize how great an impression my parents have made on me.

It humors me when I find myself unconsciously wiping all the water off the kitchen sink after doing dishes or making sure that the dish towels aren’t hanging on the stove when I open the oven so that they don’t drag on the floor. I recognize it as I save every receipt and all of my bank statements or put cream in almost every dish that I cook. But I see it the most in the passionate desire I have to live intentionally – not just for the sake of living or for the sake of being intentional, but for the sake of the One Who died intentionally so that I could live for Him.

Advent was always important to our family as I grew up. It was a time to set aside busy, light a candle in the twilight, and be still to remember that Jesus is God. I treasured that time and want to carry on the tradition of instilling intentional living and intentional stillness in the hearts of all who join our family. Christ is coming and Christ is here. Will I include Him in all I do, now and in the new year?

“…my conscience is captive to the Word of God,” declared Luther as he was urged to recant his declarations against the Roman Catholic church. I wish that statement to be the mantra and motto of my life as human history repeats itself. Those of us who seek to follow after God are having to dare ourselves to be captive to His Word in the face of subtle compromise. I was directly confronted with my convictions very recently.

My state is coming ever closer to legalizing same-sex marriage. This is a travesty to all who view marriage between one man and one woman as a sacred institution ordained by God from the beginning of human history. The homosexual agenda has been steady and forceful in having its way in American society. It is seeking to weave its thread into the very fiber of our culture by targeting schools and gaining financial backing from the companies that provide much of the products that American households use every day. This two-fold approach means that American households are funding their campaign whether we like or not, and our children are being taught that this lifestyle is legitimate – thus raising a generation with a new sense of normal.

As my husband and I spent hours at our state’s capitol waiting to testify at the hearing, I pondered the depth of my conviction. Is saying something is wrong and then going about my day enough to honor my convictions? Should I really dig deeper to find out where my money is actually going when I do my shopping? Am I willing to give up some of my favorite comfort items for the sake of my conscience? And on a deeper note, what would I do if I found out that one of my students had gay parents? Would I still be willing to declare the lifestyle wrong even if it hurt that student? Is that the right thing to do?

As image-bearers of the Creator God, we are all born with an innate sense of right and wrong. This is confirmed by the fact that those with alternative agendas go to such great lengths to infiltrate our education system. Some of us are brazen in our disregard of conscience’s promptings to do what is right rather than what is wrong, while some of us passively condone sin in an attempt to not judge the choices others make. In either case, when sin has its way in human hearts and society, our conscience dies a little more. I am not limiting this pattern to homosexuality alone; it holds true for every sin on every level – individual or societal.

“It’s too late. We’ve gone too far,” you or I might be thinking. Abortion is legal in our country and millions have died because of that. Gay marriage is legal in 13, soon to be 14, states in our union. Euthanasia and marijuana are legal in a handful of our states. 50% of traditional marriages end in divorce. A brief survey of our youth (elementary to college) will reveal young people hurting from the effects of bullying, drinking, drugs, promiscuity, molestation, and domestic violence. Yeah, it’s all wrong but what can we really do about it? Perhaps we have to return to the definition of captivity.

When one is held captive by someone else, it means that their will is our command. We have no choice but to obey. And so it is for the individual. We only have one choice in the matter – and that is to decide who our captor will be: Good or Evil. By succumbing to passivity and taking the apparently easy way of avoidance, we are not doing ourselves any long term favors. Sure, it’s the path of less resistance for the time being, but in reality we are only allowing evil to wreak havoc a little longer. What would happen if every Christian obeyed his or her conscience and not only declared sin wrong, but also took measures to resist it? What if we taught our children that a homosexual lifestyle is wrong and then showed them how to encourage those led astray by it to return to a healthy way of living? What if we researched the companies that are supporting the gay agenda or the Planned Parenthood agenda and withheld our support from them, despite the extra effort it would require? What if we actively showed those who have succumbed to sin that there is a way out?

What if we resurrected our conscience instead of killing it?

The legislature of my state is on the cusp of legalizing same-sex marriage. The bill that they are seeking to pass on the one month anniversary of my marriage would require my church to allow the performance of same-sex marriage ceremonies on its property. I have two dominant reactions to this course of events: from a faith perspective I find this absolutely revolting and from the point of reason I do not see how this is consistent with the mantra of “separation of church and state.”

If we view this through a religious lense, not only is the degradation of marriage being legalized, it is also being forced upon those who morally disagree with it. The Bible clearly states that marriage is between one man and one woman. No matter how many attempts are made to reason differently, our conscience knows this to be true. I am acutely aware of the sacredness of marriage and I am so grateful for its institution. Anything but what God intended when He designed marriage is a mockery of the genuine article. Unfortunately, those of us who stand by the traditional conviction about marriage are viewed as bigots and outdated. I wonder, though, if anyone is attempting to force Islamists to accept gay marriage in their mosques? Probably not, as that would not be tolerant of their religious views.

And what of the separation of church and state? We can’t have prayer in public schools, “Under God” in our pledges, a cross or Nativity scene on public grounds, or the Ten Commandments in a courtroom because the church and state must be kept separate. BUT the government can mandate that churches allow a ceremony on their property which violates their moral convictions, require Christian employers to include abortions and birth control in their employees’ health insurance despite its violating their moral convictions, or refuse the right of Christian businesses to retain the right of refusing service to someone who demands that they compromise their religious values? It’s confusing, isn’t it? It would appear that the separation of church and state is conveniently unidirectional. As long as it keeps the church out of the government’s business it works; but it impotent when it comes to keeping the government out of the church’s business.

I know that peacemakers are blessed, and I firmly believe that we should do all we can to share the love of Christ with the lost and hurting world. I also know that we are called to stand firm in God’s Truth. True peace only comes with the acceptance of the truth in God’s Word. We are not loving our neighbors if we close our eyes to wrongdoing and bite our tongues when lies are being propagated. If we really believe that what we believe is really real, then for the sake of eternal peace we must hold our ground and refuse to compromise. The truth is costly, but I believe it is worth everything I have.

Summer school will be concluding this week though the exact end day is uncertain. I struggled painfully this past week and needed a great deal of encouragement from my favorite classmate. He did an excellent job of helping me explore the causes of my sadness so close to the end of school. I recognized that I was feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of my varying emotions all summer long. It was leaving me fatigued and sorrowful; then I was wracked with guilt because I knew that others are in much more advanced summer school while I was sitting there and complaining.

However, even those struggles last week were a lesson in themselves. I was grateful that in my times of darkness my initial response was to repeat God’s truths to myself and to cry out to Him. I also learned that my heart has grown in its compassion towards others. I noticed that I literally feel the pain that other living beings are experiencing, whether they are human or animal. My Love pointed out to me that this is a gift for it allows me to pray for them in a much deeper way. Finally, when my joy does return after a time of absence, I appreciate it so much more. It illuminates my life with its presence, and I become all the more determined to hold on to it.

In my introduction to this Summer School blog series I stated that I was learning to trust Jesus as He guided me through His summer syllabus. He knew what I needed to learn the most. What did I need to learn the most? I needed to learn that I do not need to fear God’s refining fire, the operative word being “God’s.” I don’t seek out difficulty, and I certainly like an orderly, predictable life that is filled with laughter and all of my loved ones around me. I certainly do not desire to ever be parted from my Love and Best Friend again! Yet I have experienced God’s faithfulness firsthand this summer.

He is a strict teacher and a comforting counselor. He does not miss a single opportunity to either teach a new lesson or review a past one. He provides individualized instruction in general topics since He knows my unique weaknesses and tendencies. And when I lay down my pen after that final exam this week I will know that I have passed. I am a stronger student. I am a more sincere prayer warrior. I am a more empathetic listener. I am more appreciative of the little blessings, more patient in the waiting, and slower to speak my opinion. I know that I have been forged in God’s refining fire and I will be all the more radiant as I walk down the aisle to meet my husband who went through the fire with me.

My Heavenly Instructor maximizes all of His instructional time.  We humans frequently think that we are entitled to breaks after a rigorous workout in body, mind, or spirit. Sometimes He obliges, but in my case, not in summer school!  It was immersion in my notes for me this week, starting on Sunday.

This past week a close friend suffered a grievous relational loss; I house-sat for my parents; and I went back to work.  In addition, my Love is still away and the closer he comes to returning home, the more I miss him. Go figure!  By the time I got to the end of my week I was drained emotionally from consoling my grieving friend; I was worn out physically from caring for a large house, yard, and multiple pets; and I was mentally exhausted from the strains of teaching and learning new names.  Ironically, at the end of my week, my Love inquired as to why I sounded so peaceful in my e-mails. I had to stop and think about it for a moment. I realized that this week hadn’t really been an intense study of any new concepts. Instead, it had been an opportunity for me to study my notes and put them into practice.

I was able to share with my hurting friend about the many wonderful aspects of a relationship with Jesus and I urged her to cling to Him in her time of grief and loss. I spoke from the heart because I had experienced Christ’s faithfulness in a deep way this summer.  As I cared for my parents’ home, I reflected on them and all that they have done for me. It was a reflective review on counting my blessings and valuing the dynamics of the relationships in my family.  In teaching, I experienced a fresh confidence that comes from knowing I am loved beyond measure by God and by my Best Guy – another valuable lesson I have duly noted in my summer school.  And anytime I began to slip into melancholy from missing my Love, I began to consider creative ways that I could remind him that I am absolutely crazy about him, something that I have learned to do this summer.

I concluded my week with the most beautiful shower any bride could wish for. I couldn’t believe it was my own shower! I was surrounded by lovely ladies and girls spanning all dimensions of my life – some had known me from birth, some just while I was growing up, others were coworkers or brand new friends, and a few I had known since they were born! They showered me with their love, respect, and thoughtful advice, and the gifts they gave me filled me with excitement about my new home and the beginning of my own household. They mentioned ways that I had encouraged them and how they have seen me grow and mature in my faith.  It was a refreshing way to conclude this week of study for it confirmed to me that choosing joy is always the right choice to make, even though sometimes it is the hardest one.

I may not have a fresh lesson to share with you in this week’s blog. I try to generalize my experiences enough so that you can hopefully find something beneficial in them to apply to your own life journey, but I know this week’s post has more personal examples than usual. However, let me conclude with this: when you don’t feel like you’re learning anything new, take note of the themes in your life. Are your conversations focused on a particular topic? Are you encouraging more or being encouraged more? What are you reading or watching or listening to? What is happening at work? What thoughts have been dominating your prayers?  God doesn’t waste a single moment in His refining process so even the seemingly mundane aspects of our daily lives are an opportunity to either learn something new or apply what we have already learned. In my case, it was application that required a return to my notes.

Keep a journal! It’s worth the effort!