O is for Obey...

My  mom let me share on her blog last week... check it out!  www.laurareimer.net  

Obedience...the cost. 

“O is for obey, O is for obey, everyday in everyway O is for obey.” 

It’s a song that’s sung over and over in our house (to “Farmer in the Dell” if you are curious) trying to teach our three year old to obey. It started at kids’ church and well, my husband and I picked up on it to use at home too.  It’s no coincidence that my favorite verse (as a parent) happens to be this month’s preschool memory verse and is written on the chalkboard in our kitchen...Ephesians 6:1 - children, obey your parents in the Lord for this is right. 

We ask our son to do all sorts of things and we expect first-time obedience (I can just hear the well-seasoned parental veterans chuckling at this point including my own mom and dad!). No, it doesn’t always happen, but we do our best to hold him accountable for his actions. You see, our point is if he is obedient with the little things, he will be obedient with the big things. We want him to obey the first time we tell him to pick up his animals, so when we tell him to stop at the curb of an intersection, he stops the first time when it truly is life and death. Most of the time, we get Socrates-style questions from him on whether or not he should obey or if he can go clean something else first or at times, he fails to follow the instruction and continues doing what he was doing. The problem with all of these options are - they are disobedience. Doing something else good doesn’t knock off the work you have been assigned. And from my mom’s previous postings, we all know how well our son’s disobedience turns out

Well...makes me think of Jonah and his disobedience. And we all know how whale that turned out for him... 

My husband and I are in a season of first-time obedience. We had a calling placed on our hearts and our lives that we are living out right now. We are walking through the fire of obedience. And we are listening...and it is costing us. But we know that walking the path of first-time obedience leads straight to the Savior’s arms, His feet, and the beat of His heart. We are living in the pain caused by another’s disobedience and deceitfulness and it hurts. 

John 14:15 says “If you love me, you will obey what I command”. And we do...we love Jesus and want to follow Him because we know in Luke 11:28, He replies, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it.”

It may seem silly to the world, to obey God knowing the cost...but that Savior whose arms I mentioned? His hands hold the scars of His obedience. Those feet? Scarred by His obedience. Nail holes, put there by my sins. 

But oh, His heart...the heart that bled for me and the one that loves me. 

He promises over and over to strengthen my heart (Psalm 73:26), create a clean heart (Psalm 51:10), hold fast my heart (Proverbs 23:26), guard my heart (Proverbs 4:23)...

So, as we continue to walk together in obedience, we will focus on Jesus letting the garbage of the world dim in comparison to His light. 

For the cost of obedience is high by earthly terms, but the cost of disobedience is so much greater and the reward of obedience is something indescribable...

So we continue to sing, “O is for obey...”

Just ask...

Graham, our 3 & 1/4 year old, is gaining some serious independence.  He wants to try it all and do it all by himself! One night after an attempt putting our shoes on, we ended in tears.

Finally through the sobs, he shared that he needed his daddy's help.

His daddy responded that all he needed to do was ask. Just say, "Daddy, I need help". And my husband reinforced that he would come right away to help him.

I admired my husband, the father of our children for the way he reacted and taught our son a major life lesson...and my heart quickened as I realize I have a heavenly Father that told me the very same thing.

Rachel...all you need to do is ask, "Abba, I need help", and I will come.

The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. -Psalm 34:18

No matter what life brings me today...tomorrow...4 weeks from now...He is near and ready to help.  My Abba Father...

Taking a MOMent to cry out to my Abba....
Rachel

Chalk Lines

It's been a busy summer...and the blog has gone on the back burner. I've enjoyed time reading other's blogs and loving on my family! :)

About two and a half months ago, I left home headed to work. I left a few minutes late since I was hugging and kissing some cute little boys at home with Daddy before I headed into the office. As I drove the familiar county road and ended up at the stoplight I come to everyday, something was very wrong. The stoplight was working...but no cars were crossing the intersection. I was in the right turn lane about to turn when I saw it...a horrible wreck across the intersection. A pick up truck with its front end smashed and a few seconds later, I saw the motorcycle on the ground. My pulse quickened, my stomach knotted, and I knew it was time to act. You see, I was the first one out of my car...not an ambulance, not a police car...nothing but cars and people in shock and panic and one lonely victim lying painfully still on the ground.

Jumping from my car, running across the pavement in my dress khakis and snakeskin flats, I came over to the accident and the image will forever be ingrained into my mind. A woman...with her backpack on, her helmet on had been thrown from her bike landing quite awkwardly and without any movement and without a pulse. As the words, "Oh... my... God" rushed from my lips as a prayer, another woman came up behind me. She was an ER nurse and with myself as a nurse practitioner with a trauma background, we quickly began to figure out together what we needed to start doing. The next man on the scene - an off duty paramedic. While the other bystanders called 9-1-1...we started working to try to save her life.

The paramedics arrived quickly and took over and continued working on her en route to the hospital. With the help of the newspaper, I found out she did not make it. Her life was cut short at that intersection that Tuesday morning.

I went on to work that morning while the police worked to figure out the accident. When I came back home for lunch, the site was clear and the street had been hosed down. The blood and all other evidence there was ever a crash was gone...

It wasn't until a few days later driving past the same intersection, I noticed new marks on the ground. Spray paint marking the outline of the vehicles involved...unnoticeable to those who didn't know.

It's been months, but I still think of her face every time I pass the intersection and I see the outline reminding me what happened. As a nurse, I've seen death...but it doesn't get any easier.

God keeps speaking to me through it...and I finally have the words to put down what He is teaching me.

You see...we all have these marks on our lives. Points in our lives that are forever marked by small marks on the pavement of our lives. Marks that may or may not be visible to others. But we know...

What are these marks?
Death of our dreams or desires
complete surrender of our lives
(insert your own...)

Maybe our marks signify the death of our former selves and we cloak ourselves with the righteousness of Christ...there are some people that are left wondering what happened, trying to figure it out...

Whatever your mark is...hold fast that Jesus doesn't forget your marks...He carries His own from the life He lived and gave for us.

Until the next MOMent and mark...
Rachel

Sometimes there is no answer to Why?

Hanging out with my Graham...I hear the word WHY work itself into much of our conversation. It seems every other sentence out of his little mouth begins with Why.

Well, I wonder if I sound like that to my Heavenly Father. If every other sentence out of my mouth is Why God?

Well, I'm sure He would offer me the same comfort I offer my Graham. Sometimes you just have to trust me to know the Why, you may not know the Why for a long time and it's okay because I know why.

I'm comforted because He is good and He know the why's of my life (and the why nots). And like in Jeremiah, He works it all together for good. His plan is perfect and one not meant for harm.

Who hold your answers to your Why?

Move over Mom, Jesus said He would drive.

A couple weeks ago, I was taking the boys to someone's house, Miss Kate. A little voice from the backseat piped up and asked if I knew the way to Miss Kate's house. I resisted the urge to shoot back with, 'of course I do, we drove here just last week' and I responded with a simple 'Do you trust me to get you there?'

He was quiet for a moment, and then confirmed that he did in fact trust me.

I waited...and then asked my son if that reminded him of what Jesus is like.

Well, I got the typical three-year-old response, "huh?".

So, I went on...You trust me like we should trust Jesus. You may not know exactly where to turn, but I do. And that's how Jesus works. We trust Him and He guides our lives and our steps because He knows where we are going.

And then my three year old taught me..."Ok Mom, I"ll pray for you."

Now, when my Graham starts praying, he has always looked directly up at the ceiling. So, he looked up to the van's ceiling and started interceding for his mother.

Dear Jesus. Please help Mommy get to Miss Kate's house, she doesn't know where she is going.

(still looking up...there was a long pause)

Ok Jesus!

(he looks at me)

He said to sit over there (points to the passenger seat). He said He would drive.



Oh man...that kid can preach...

Look how far I came...

Graham's new thing on our walks includes him looking behind us to show us how far we have come.  It all started with my husband encouraging him to continue on his tricycle and showing him that he had already come so far on it! Mostly because Dad didn't want to have to wheel the trike by himself around the block! :)

So...now as we walk, Graham is looking behind him to see how far he has come. I stop each time and acknowledge our distance accomplished while encouraging the distance yet to be completed. These walks fill my heart with joy...time spent with my little ones, but it is far from a cardio workout!

In the way Christ usually speaks, I uttered the words, Graham, if we spend all our time looking backward, we'll miss what's up ahead. And then I realized He was speaking to me.

So many times, we look backward...look at how things have gone and wish they could change. Walking a different path could have ended us elsewhere, but this is the path we have chosen (or has been chosen for us!) and so, here we are. But time spent looking backward is time spent missing the blessings Christ has ahead for us.

There are days my Bible doesn't get opened...weeks my Bible spends in the car between Sundays...I am not perfect. But I know that if I look forward, my path is wide open and waiting with options and blessings I never knew possible if only I'd quit looking back.

What do we look back at? The hurt we've endured, the loss we've grieved, the missed chances...the list goes on and on...

But oh how much sweeter it is to walk forward walking toward Jesus and what He has in store for us.

Walk on to your next MOMent...
Rachel

Watering Flowers versus Watering Roots

Spring is here! My husband and I have completely 'black thumbs' without any hint of green. We seem to kill more plants than we can keep alive. So...we were again replacing and replanting some plants.

We planted a new azalea bush in the front that is now producing beautiful white flowers. So, like any good gardener knows, a new plants needs a good watering, so while my son played outside, I grabbed my watering can.

Pretty soon after that, Graham headed over with his watering can wanting to share in the chore of watering, so I filled up his blue plastic elephant shaped watering can and he headed over to water the new plant. When I got over there with my full watering can, he was pouring his water on each and every flower that plant had produced. I quickly let him know that we must give water to the roots of the plants for they are what help make beautiful flowers.

And then in that quiet, simple statement with the breeze blowing and those beautiful hazel colored eyes looking up at me, God spoke.

How many times do we water the flowers or the fruit of other people's or our own lives? A quick spritz of water onto the superficial and walk away feeling like we've accomplished so much? Don't think I'm pointing at anyone else without thinking first of myself. A blog post about God and how He speaks...but yet failing to dive heavily into His Word consistently. I get some 'flower' watering on Sunday and when I pick up my Bible...but sometimes the excuses and exhaustion kick in and the Bible gets put off another day.

I forget to water the roots...a good deep, refreshing watering to my roots of my soul.

Thankful for each MOMent I get to spend in His refreshing Word...
Rachel

Hold my hand.

I think our little 10 month's old first words will be 'Hold my hand, Graham!'. Not really...but it's a serious thought since we say it enough!

But as I grabbed my older son's hand before crossing a parking lot, I realized I'm thankful for my Father holding my hand. If I can even begin to compare my holding Graham's hand to Him holding mine...but it was a moment God spoke!

See...as I grab his little hand whether he is cooperating or not, not holding my hand isn't an option in a parking lot, crossing the street, etc.  It's just a rule we have as I'm sure all parents have for their little ones. It's meant to keep them safe and close. So, as I'm holding his hand anticipating the pull of resistance, I watch. I watch for danger, things that could entangle his little feet, threats, things meant for harm. You see, as I hold his hand, I can quickly and efficiently move him out of the way of things meant to harm him. I remain in control of him. If I am prepared, I can resist the pull away and continue holding on.

That's how I want God to hold my hand. Hold it while I squirm, while I learn whats around me meant for harm, and while I'm just plain not paying attention to the world around me. His grip on my hand is for my own protection, my safety, and my comfort. I know my Father God loves me, has His hand on me and is guiding me through His perfect plan. The walk is much easier and much more enjoyable when I am holding on as well and not trying to pull away. But I'm thankful He doesn't let go.

Rachel

Goliath made a bad choice

Graham cracks me up...I love the way his mind works (see several previous posts!).

Today as we read the story of David and Goliath...he did not disappoint!

(Graham is Graham David since his father and I want him to be a man after God's own heart! So any story about David is our favorite...ok, except Bathsheeba...)

So...we're reading David and Goliath. And here's how the conversation goes...

Graham asks me if Goliath is fighting other people.

I tell him that yes, he is fighting.

Graham asks me why?

I tell him that Goliath is mean and he doesn't have Jesus living in his heart.

Graham says with as much concern as a 2 year old can muster...Oh no! You made a bad choice, Goliath!

Very true son, very true.

Bubbles and the Wind

Seems with the warming temperatures, my ability to blog routinely goes up as well! We'll see how long both last here in Illinois.

We ventured outside as much as possible today! It was glorious! Windy as all get out and weather that would have us in parkas and snow boots come fall, but a wonderful spring day!

So...we played with chalk...we played with bubbles...we took walks in the wagon...we enjoyed the sun!

Where God spoke to me today....bubbles.

Things that didn't click last summer are clicking now. Why things work, how to blow bubbles...the important stuff of life!

Graham and I each had a large bubble wand and an equally large bottle of bubble soap. I soon realized that if I just held my wand up, the wind would create way more bubbles than my pathetic breathing. It could have been viewed as lazy, but I found it to be genius! Graham continued to blow his own bubbles though. So I nonchalantly told him if he would just let the wind do the work, the bubbles would come pouring out! No sooner had the words left my lips did I flash back to every sermon I've heard on the Holy Spirit and how it is the Breath of God. And again...the simple things? God spoke.

I'm the bubble wand...I'm made to create bubbles (I like to keep it all simple...stay with me). I need to be saturated in the bubble soap to have a chance at functioning. A bubble wand doesn't work with a dry bubble jar. So...I'm saturated in the soap, then I come out into the air and just let the wind show off everything I have just saturated myself in!

So...if it's too simple or I only make sense to myself, here's where I'm going:

I need to soak in the Word of God and when I'm pulled out and called upon to do my job, I better pray there is a strong wind or Breath of God blowing through me, directing my path.

I think back to the early church where the Holy Spirit descended upon them for the very first time.

If you have time...check out Acts for accounts of His mighty work through His Spirit.

Acts 2:4 - filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues (and 3000 were added to the church)

Acts 4:31 - they are filled with the Holy Spirit and they boldly speak the word of God

So...I may be a little bubble wand...but man you soak me in the right stuff and put the power of God behind me...look out bubble world!

Just another bubbly MOMent...
Rachel

'Make them happy Mommy'

It's not that I don't like to or don't want to write on here...it's just that life gets in the way. I have notes and small thoughts all over the place with inspiration to create posts. But then two super cute little boys or their handsome daddy needs me and the blog takes a backseat to my real life.

But one thing stands out in my mind.

My 2 1/2 year old is a talker, a thinker, and a questioner (Not sure that's a word?). His little mind goes so fast, it's incredible! He is not one I can blow off while he talks because he expects I will answer him correctly, appropriately, and timely!

So...as we pulled out of the garage the other day, I was mentally running through the essentials (shoes - see original post!, coupons, list, snack/drink, stroller, diaper bag, change of clothes, etc....). I could hear Graham talking and the questions starting, but I couldn't listen wholeheartedly and focus on what I needed to have with me. So I quickly said a prayer that Graham would forgive me when I had to ask him to repeat his question. As I finished this quick prayer, Graham was almost hysterical telling me I had to 'make them happy, you have to make them happy'. Giant tears were forming in those beautiful hazel eyes as I struggled to figure out whose happiness I was apparently now responsible for. As I clicked the garage door opener to close it, the tears fell. So I threw the vehicle in park and turned around in my chair trying to get the critical information I was missing out of my crying son. I re-opened the garage door (the neighbors probably think I'm nuts by now) and the tears lessened.

He finally staggered out these words in between breaths and sobs. You...have...to...make...the...lights...happy.

Ok...the lights. Say what? Come again?

Mommy, when you turned the lights off you made them so very sad. They are only happy when they are on.

OK God, I hear you.

The overhead lights in the garage needed to be on to be happy. (Relative term depending on if you are talking to my husband or to the power company!). But nonetheless, there is a lesson in that.

When we shine God's light and we are 'on' for Him, we are in so much of a better place than when we are trying to hide our light. When you are acting out of His calling, we will be happy little lights.

As I tried to explain the power bill to Graham, I simply quit and we starting singing "This Little Light of Mine" together as we drove off (and yes, left the garage lights on and happy!).

Until the next MOMent...
Rachel

Tangles and Job

My two year old son's hair - it has a life and a mind of it's own and I love it. It is a little on the longer side and wouldn't fly in the marines, but it works for him (and me!). It's straight as a board in the front, has some curls in the back, and when he really gets moving, he gets wings that come out behind his little ears. It just works for him and I'm sure his grandparents would agree...it makes him pretty darn cute!

(Just wishing for those warmer temps again...)

So...with these longer locks, curls in the back, and what seems like tumbling passes while he sleeps he wakes up with some wild tangles. I'll be honest and on some of these subzero days where we have no where to go and don't have to leave him, I just wait until bath to comb them out!

On the days I do comb that beautiful head of hair, it hurts him. He stands there brave, but his mommy can see those tears brimming. I am as gentle as I can be and I hate causing pain to help him. He stands there on his stool and usually leans his head into me, in towards the comb, the source of the solution.

And then my Father showed me something...that's exactly what He wants me to do - to lean into him while He combs through the tangles of my life. I can stand there chest puffed out and brace, but He sees the tears brimming in my eyes. He tells me to lean into Him while He sorts through the tangles and junk life throws my way. He wants me to pour my broken heart out to Him. As my mom always says, "He can take it!".

I am currently reading through Job...talk about pouring your broken heart out to our Father. Man...those are some tough pages to get through.

But as I dive into His Word, I realize that the darker the pages of Job are, the brighter His truth will shine.

Strip away all the garbage of fakeness and masks, and you see right into the heart of man.

The heart that longs to know and understand God.

The heart that cries out in true agony.

The heart that is earnestly looking for truth.

The heart created by a Father God to be desperate for and united with a Savior.

As I walk through my tangles, I pray I lean into the one combing through it for me. And like I do with my son, there are lots of hugs and kisses and just pure love when the combing is done!

From one tangled MOMent to the next...
Rachel