Goosebump Moments

When I started this blog, my intention was to write about what I’m walking through with God—what I’m wondering and what He’s showing me. What I did not want to do was create another Mommy Blog. I’m a mommy through and through, but I hear enough about other people’s kids, and I’m sure most people feel the same way. If it’s mom stories you want, they’re readily available, and they’re told by women who can write circles around me.

But sometimes what I’m wondering and what God is showing me comes from my kids. And then I have to write about it.

I don’t do surface conversation well. I thrive at the gut level, where people’s deepest thoughts are stirred and released. It’s hard to find this level very often with a young kid. It’s not that they’re trying to be superficial; to them, the road kill rotting in the front yard is the most profound discovery in the universe. It’s just not something I care to talk about for more than 20 seconds.

But the other night, I plunged head first into gut-level conversation with two of my girls. We were driving home in the pitch dark, just the three of us, and we went from talking about the really tall people we know to Goliath to “Was there really a Goliath?” to “How do we know the Bible is true?” in about half a mile. One daughter confessed that she questioned God’s very existence. While surprised to hear this, I was even more surprised (happily) when He gave me the words to respond: “God is big enough to handle your questions. They don’t make Him love you any less.”

And then from the mouth of a light-hearted five-year-old, I heard, “Mommy, I have some big questions about my life, too.” Intrigued and amused, I asked what they were. “Well, sometimes I wonder if I’m just a person in a book. Or on a show. Or if maybe I’m just a toy someone’s playing with.”

Check the rearview mirror and pull the car over!! And God, please give me the words. Don’t let me mess this up! One of my favorite word pictures of God is that He’s the author of my story. He writes the plot, the ups and the downs, but I fill in the details. And no matter what, I can trust that the author is good and that He loves me. Somehow, all those words managed to tumble out of my mouth in a way she seemed to understand.

Finally, we made it home. One daughter ran off to the bathroom, while the other stayed close by me. “Mom?” she asked, “If Goliath’s purpose was to be used to demonstrate God’s glory, what’s your purpose?” At this point, I am floating. I live for this stuff, and my daughter keeps coming back for more! Does it get any better than this? I got to explain to her that my purpose is the same as Goliath’s, it just looks a little different. We talked for several more minutes, and she made a few more astute, stunningly mature observations. Goose bumps had long overtaken my body. I had that crazy sensation that we stumble upon every once in a great while, the kind that says, “This is why you are alive.”

And then little Brooka beckoned me into the bathroom at the top of her lungs. “Mom! You gotta come here!” Turning toward her, I’m thinking, “What, God? What’s next? How are you going to top this? Is she going to ask me the meaning of life? Bring it on! I am so ready!”

Barely able to contain herself, she squealed, “My poodoo just came out of my bottom and slid right down the hole into the potty, and THEN it slithered right back out just like a snake!”

And the magic was gone. Slithering off like a snake.

But for about half an hour on a random Friday night, the magic was there, and it was beautiful. Parenting is 99 percent poodoo and roadkill and jungle animals and begging for fruit snacks. But every once in awhile, the magic is there, and then you know why you are alive.

Reformation, Part II

When you’re praying for reformation, to hear God’s voice fresh, to meet Him all over again, Isaiah is a good place to start. Long suspecting this was my favorite Old Testament book, I’ve been camped out there for several weeks.

If you want to hear what God Himself thinks, what His voice sounds like, go to Isaiah. The Israelites’ captivity in Babylon serves as the context, and God has some pretty strong feelings about it. Even though His words to Isaiah were specific to that time and that place, God’s character doesn’t change. I can learn a lot about who He is today, in my life, as I read about who He was then.

Here are a few of my favorites from Isaiah:

Isaiah 14:24 “The Lord Almighty has sworn, ‘Surely as I have planned, so it will be, and as I have purposed, so it will stand.” The world is not spinning out of control. God’s got a plan, it is good, and it cannot be changed, no matter how many Osama bin Ladens there are in the world. This is how I can sleep at night.

Isaiah 45:6b–7 “ ‘I am the Lord, and there is no other. I form the light and create darkness, I bring prosperity and create disaster; I, the Lord, do all these things.’ ” This is a pretty bold response to those who don’t believe God is ever responsible for the world’s disasters. He creates them. He uses them. Most important, He is good enough to be trusted with them.

Isaiah 8:12–14 “ ‘Do not call conspiracy everything that these people call conspiracy; do not fear what they fear, and do not dread it. The Lord Almighty is the one you are to regard as holy, he is the one you are to fear, he is the one you are to dread, and he will be a sanctuary.’ ” Swine flu, global warming, global economic crisis, killer bees, terrorists, sexual predators—I think they all fall into this category. God tells me not to fear or dread any of them. My fear—my respect and awe of His power—are reserved for Him alone. 

Isaiah 40:12–14 “Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in the balance? Who has understood the mind of the Lord, or instructed him as his counselor? Whom did the Lord consult to enlighten him, and who taught him the right way? Who was it that taught him knowledge or showed him the path of understanding?” Call me crazy, but I like being put in my place now and then. Like God’s response to Job, this passage reminds me that God is God and I am not. He doesn’t need me as His counselor. He doesn’t need me to enlighten Him about how I think the world ought to work. He formed the world just fine without my help, thank you very much. And if He can hold the dust of the earth in a basket, He’s probably got my issues all under control.

And finally, when I’m at the end of my rope—feeling lost, invisible, and completely wiped out—does it get any better than this?

Isaiah 40:27–29 “Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain O Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God’? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.” He understands me. And He goes on to promise that if I hope in Him, He will renew my strength and He will make me soar. Thanks, God. I’m ready to soar.

Reformation, Part I

I’m in need of Reformation.

When you begin to feel like you totally get God, like you know how He thinks and can anticipate His every move, you’re in trouble. And delusional.

 More and more things don’t work out the way I think they will, the way it seems they ought to. I’m seeing that what God does—or doesn’t do—doesn’t always mesh with who I think God is and how I think He works. Resolute in my belief that God doesn’t change, I am left with only one conclusion: My perception of God is off. And that’s a bummer, because I’ve got a lot invested in it. But I think God might be telling me that for this season, instead of running around like a crazy woman trying to do things for Him, I should sit still and get to know Him. All over again.

 Reformation means to improve what is wrong, corrupt, or unsatisfactory. My ideas about God are not corrupt, but I think some of them may be wrong, unsatisfactory, incomplete. They’ve been formed by three decades of church teaching, family, college professors, song writers, book writers, speakers, The Navigators, friends, strangers, all in the small context of American evangelical Christianity.

 I am thankful for all of these influences in my life, but during my Reformation, I want to listen much less to people and much more to God Himself. My recent prayer has been for God to strip away all my preconceived notions, to take me back to square one, to meet Him as if for the first time. A missionary friend of mine illustrates getting to the heart of the Gospel by wrapping an orange in paper until it’s the size of a volleyball. Then he peels off the western Christian wrappings, one by one, until he gets to the orange. Just when you think you’ve finally gotten to it, he rips off the peel itself; only after all the layers of wrappings (and trappings) have been removed can you clearly see the Gospel.

I believe there are layers and layers separating me from who God actually is. The thickest layer, the one that’s hardest to peel off, may very well be my picture of who I want God to be. But I don’t want to serve a God I construct in my head. I want to serve the God Who Is.

 Lord, please give me Reformation.