Post Category → faith

miracle of spring

Plants amaze me. The fact that it all looks so, so dead, and then suddenly bursts forth into this miraculous display of life — it baffles my mind every single spring.

Of course, we had to wait an unusually long time for that bursting this year. My daffodils? Yeah. They spent weeks as courageous new leaves, with no sign at all that they would ever actually be flowers. But this week, we’ve made progress, and this was my kitchen table today:

There are so many beautiful varieties that are popping open: golden yellows and barely creams, big and small, orange trumpets, peach trumpets, red-rimmed trumpets — all so lovely.

Then there are all of the other miracles — hastas that I thought I’d (somehow!) lost have all popped up. The forsythia volunteer that I stuck in the ground actually bloomed. And the bee balm that I’d given up hope for last summer is not only back, but is thriving. Hollyhock, columbine, bleeding heart, day lilies, forget-me-not, myrtle, gloriosa daisies, cone flowers — they all survived!

And thanks to all of the years of gardening next to my mom, who sees it all with a spiritual lens, I can’t look at that amazing return of life without faith for seemingly-dead situations rising up in my own heart. Somehow, those budding plants are more than just the promise of a lovely summer garden: they’re a tangible reminder that life is God’s business. It’s what He does. Winter — even the longest, harshest, toughest winter the North Country can muster — can’t stop Him from bringing forth life.

baby news

Baby #3 is growing — fast! There are so many kicks and wiggles these days, and my belly is huge already! Before I know it, summer will be in full swing, and it’ll be time to dust off the Moses basket and wash the teeny tiny diapers.

Since moving back to upstate NY last year, I’ve had my ear to the ground regarding birth options, knowing I’d have to cross that bridge sooner or later. A few weeks after this baby made himself known, I started looking for real — and wasn’t very encouraged. I followed every lead I had. I scoured the internet, using every search engine and forum I could find to locate an upstate midwife. I really, really wanted a homebirth. I just kept holding out hope, but by week 18, it was getting pretty hard.

I was trying to come to terms with what seemed like the only option: finding a cooperative doctor and hoping for the best in a hospital. I knew I could trust God in that scenario. But I was so disappointed.

Finally, realizing that if I didn’t act soon, I wouldn’t get accepted by anyone as a patient, I started making phone calls and scheduling preliminary appointments.

And then Ryan had a brilliant idea: “Why don’t you call your old midwife down in NC and see if she knows of anyone who’s running under the radar?”

Sure enough. After searches that said the closest licensed homebirth midwife was in Ithaca, I found out there’s one in Canton, NY. My jaw dropped.

Too good to be true?

We tracked down her phone number (Ryan did, because she’s no where on the internet), and just a brief chat — her mellow voice, her pace, her no-nonsense brand of friendliness — made me jump up and down a little.

And when she came — because all of her visits are house calls!! — I almost cried. The first time we heard the baby’s heartbeat, I was laying on my own couch, with Ryan and the boys and this incredibly easy-going woman who just sort of slipped into the family room like an old friend.

She dots her i’s and crosses her t’s. She’s careful and cautious and courageous. She’s incredibly informed. She’s been through the wringer. She’s everything you expect from a lifelong advocate of natural childbirth.

And most of all, this has the distinct fragrance of gift from the Lord, dropped right into my lap. Really. A little miracle, just for me.

doings.

I’ve been:

to Maine and back for a fast and furious and very fun weekend with Ryan’s mom and sister.

sewing a ball gown for Cinderella. It’s awfully fun to work on something so detailed and beautiful (for someone who usually is just cutting up old polos to make play pants!)

bundling up to go outside, even though it’s mid-April. The only problem with this extremely slow season change is that somehow I have the sensation that time is standing still, waiting for the sun. It’s not.

marveling at the imaginations of my two boys that have suddenly come alive. All at once, in the last month or so, they are best buddies who will play for hours.

thankful for how joyful those two little boys are. They smile and dance and laugh and cheerfully anticipate almost every moment of the day. It’s pretty amazing, and I don’t want to take it for granted.

thinking about the basics: faith in God (and Him alone), digging into this moment and not missing the opportunity to find Jesus, serving my family with a smile, honoring my husband and being mindful of him every moment, praying continually.

anticipating several nights of presbytery at church, followed by a Good Friday celebration and then, of course, the Best Sunday Of All.

thoughts on liberty: an email from my dad

I want to share here “some thoughts” that my dad sent around as an email a year or two ago, and then again recently. In this essay, he answers the question, “Why don’t you drink?”

I’m posting this here for three reasons:

First, his intro, which explores the idea of Christian liberties and how we are to handle such things, is really, really good, and can be applied to so many areas of our lives as we sort out such issues.

Second, his thoughts on the actual topic, drinking, are insightful and I think should be pondered as this particular liberty is addressed.

Thirdly, I’m posting this because my dad is worth emulating. I can’t say enough about not only his integrity, character, and ongoing (and always-growing) passion for the Lord, but also his consistent lifestyle of true discipleship and laying his life down for his brother.

When I encounter a “gray” area of Christianity, a liberty which I may or may not partake of, I should do two things: Look for someone I can follow as I follow Christ (part of “getting wisdom”, which we are urged over and over to do in Proverbs, is simply following in the footsteps of the wise), and also, ask what’s best for my brother.

Dear Family—

I’ve taken some time to write out my answer to the question, “Why I Don’t Drink.” Please understand
that I’m not trying to answer the question, “Is It Wrong for a Christian to Drink?” Those are two entirely different questions. In answering the question, I trace my thinking back to a time when I examined the issue of drinking from the standpoint of positive purpose and negative impact, NOT from the standpoint of biblical license or prohibition. Just because something is “allowed” does not mean it’s good or that it should be encouraged.

Consider these examples:

Christians are “allowed” to sow sparingly; yet I provoke myself and others to sow abundantly.

Christians are “allowed” to be absent from the gathering of believers for worship, prayer, and instruction; we do not hold to the Roman Catholic doctrine of “holy days of obligation” (those specified days where failure to participate in the Eucharistic celebration is a mortal sin, a sin so serious that without the absolution of a priest, even the practicing Roman Catholic risks the fires of hell); yet I provoke myself and others to forego the ‘liberty of absence’ and instead embrace the ‘slavery of commitment.’

Why? In a single word, the answer is Purpose. I am not living aimlessly; I have a clear, compelling
purpose for living:

Phil 1.21 For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

Ac 11:23 When he came and had seen the grace of God, he was glad, and encouraged them all that with purpose of heart they should continue with the Lord.

Ac 26:16 ‘But rise and stand on your feet; for I have appeared to you for this purpose, to make you a minister and a witness both of the things which you have seen and of the things which I will yet reveal to you.

2Ti 3:10 But you have carefully followed my doctrine, manner of life, purpose, faith, longsuffering, love, perseverance…

1Co 9:26 Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air.

Below I have listed out, as best as I could catalog them, the reasons I don’t drink. I think it’s important to note that while no single reason may be a “slam-dunk”, taken together, these thoughts have guided me to the position I’ve held for many years. In some ways this is like the argument for the existence of God: as we examine that issue, we may find that no one argument is by itself conclusive, but the consistent indications of the existence of God in a variety of contexts (Design, First Cause, Conscience, etc.) leads us to a solid conclusion.

The Reasons I Don’t Drink

1. I don’t need to drink; my life is fine without alcoholic beverages.

2. My identity is secure without alcohol. I don’t need to derive any sense of identity or maturity from imbibing ‘adult beverages’ – I don’t need to drink in order to feel ‘grown-up’.

3. 100% of the people who don’t drink remain sober; I want to be one of them. I say and do enough stupid things already; I really can’t afford to add alcohol to the mix.

4. In our cultural context, there is a recognizable uneasiness regarding drinking; whether or not there should be uneasiness doesn’t matter; the simple fact is that there IS uneasiness about it. (NOTE: This uneasiness is not without precedent. There is an obvious link between drinking and both drunkenness and alcoholism, neither of which are very good.) And while I’m convinced that my drinking or my not drinking would probably have little or no impact on most people, I’m also convinced that at least a few people would be negatively affected by my drinking. Who? Some of the unbelievers, some of the believers, some of the former and current alcoholics, and most of all, some of those I am trying to raise up and stir up in the Lord. My call is not to prove to the world that Christians have the liberty to drink; they do, and I would champion that liberty in the face of any and all religionists who might attempt to steal it away. But my call is to edify, to stir myself and others to love and good works in the Lord, not to engage in every lawful activity simply because it’s lawful. And if I, by exercising my liberty to imbibe, compromise my position to edify, I’ve forfeited something extremely precious.

5. While there may be some great examples out there that I am not aware of, I have yet to see a movement of Christians who have maintained both a lifestyle of drinking AND a passionate commitment to Christ in a multi-generational context. By that I mean that both they AND succeeding generations are intense in their passion and pursuit of the Lord Jesus. The believers I know who have practiced a lifestyle of drinking have generally struggled with their own passion for the Lord or have seen one or more of their children struggling (often with alcohol or substance abuse). So if someone says to me, “I drink and I’m still a good Christian; I still feel close to the Lord”, I’m entirely unimpressed. What will impress me is the Christian drinker who is able to say, “I’ve been drinking for a lifetime; I’m active and passionate in the things of God. I never get drunk, and my children are all drinkers and they have embraced a lifestyle of drinking and passionate discipleship as well.”

6. People who drink do so for a variety of reasons, but a common reason (although they won’t necessarily admit it) is that it feels good. I know, I know; some will swear all day long that it’s the “taste” and not the feeling; I’m sorry, but I just don’t buy it. This points to a bit of a dilemma: How much can you drink, and how “good” can you feel, before you’ve had too much and you’re feeling “too good”? Or to put it another way, when exactly do you become “drunk”? Is there a definable blood alcohol level that is the “line” you shouldn’t cross? The point is this: you don’t suddenly “become drunk”; you are moving toward “drunk” as soon as you have your first drink. Most of the Christian drinkers I have spoken to have admitted that they have, in fact, crossed “the line” at some point in their drinking, that they had a little too much and were feeling a little “tipsy”. (Few will admit that they were actually “drunk — but how many drunks ever admit to it?!!!) So, here’s a question: if “buzzed driving” is “drunk driving” (as the Ad Council and the NHTSA say), does that mean that “buzzed Christian drinking” is “drunk Christian drinking”? Now, I’m pretty sure that very few believers who are drinking will end up so “under the influence” that they dance on the coffee table with a lampshade on their head. But I’m also pretty sure that a good number of believers who drink are going to be “feeling good” by the end of the night, and it won’t be entirely the Holy Spirit that’s making them happy. So my question is this: Is that something I want to encourage and multiply? Is that something I want to reproduce in my own life and the lives of others? Hardly.

7. I have bigger fish to fry than proving you can drink and still be a Christian. I’ll let someone else be the spokesman for that cause; someone else can experiment with their kids and with those they are called to impact for Christ. I am more concerned with stirring myself, my children and those around me to fervent worship, fellowship, study, prayer, & evangelism.

Having said all that, I don’t think drinking alcohol is sin. I have no condemnation in my heart for the
person who drinks. I simply know that I have been forced to think through the issue of drinking and to
consider the ramifications of it. And having done that, I’ve decided that although I have complete freedom to drink, I choose to abstain…

Most of the time! When Louissa, Mom and I were in Vienna in 2007, we stayed with a local couple
we contacted through a bed and breakfast directory. It turned out that on our second day with them
they celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. They were absolutely thrilled to share this special
occasion with new friends from America! They set a lovely table, complete with eggs, bacon, juice, fruit, and…champagne! And do you know what? There was no way that I was going to turn down the bubbly. They were too excited!. And I had absolutely no concerns about my sanctification. Actually, my biggest concern was knowing that even a few sips of the champagne would give me a terrible headache for the remainder of the day – which it did! – but I concluded that it was worth it in order to participate in this couple’s joyful celebration.

Dad

30

thirty

A very poor night’s sleep, thanks to a bad head cold, ended quite pleasantly when a certain four year old snuck into bed next to me early this morning. After a long time of cuddling and trying to sleep, he finally whispered, “Can I watch videos on your iPhone?” Treat of all treats: laying all warm and snuggly in Mama’s bed watching all the Little Bear that youtube has to offer. William joined us, too, and we three made a happy lazy bunch. (Ryan slept on the couch. He said he didn’t want to disrupt the head-cold-sleeper, but I have a sneaking suspicion he was the one avoiding disrupted sleep!)

I made cornmeal mush. It’s my birthday, and not much sounds better when you’re just feeling crummy. I enjoyed my coffee alongside William, who’d pulled out playmobil pirates as soon as his feet hit the ground.

I found a lovely little birthday gift of springtime promise on the kitchen counter (SEEDS!), left by the very thoughtful and sweet Olivia.

I buried myself under an afghan on the couch, and two boys played pirates ON TOP of me. I’m not complaining. I like being loved, what can I say?

I read 100+ kind birthday wishes on my FB page. They made me smile.

I made a fort for the boys out of blankets+kitchen table. They played cowboys, then knights, then cowboys, then a strange futuristic combo. I watched from the couch and soaked up all the wonderfulness of having children who enjoy one another. (BTW: the fact that I was noting and enjoying this should imply that it’s not always the case. Ha!)

I heated up leftovers for lunch. Jameson declared how much he loved it. William, in true William-style, ate all the flavorful sauce and left the rice. We told jokes and sang songs and observed that I’d never gotten them dressed that morning. Jameson said “that’s because it’s a cuddly day.”

I tucked them into their beds, then sat and sang two songs (Twinkle Twinkle and Amazing Grace — new songs!!). William fell asleep while I read Heidi.

And now I’m tucked into my own bed with burning eyes and a fuzzy head, and wondering if maybe I’m actually turning 80, ’cause that’s how I feel.

But no, I’m 30. And I’m not sad about that, or negative or depressed or any of the above. I have no issue with growing older, so long as God continues to give grace to live faithfully for Him (and He will.) I won’t miss being in my twenties, though I’ll get choked up when I look at certain pictures, because memories are dear. The future isn’t known to me, but it’s far from uncertain, and it comes to me a day at a time. I don’t have to be scared.

In fact, the prevailing thought I have this year, as I try to pause and take note of passing time more than I usually do (who pays attention to their 27th birthday, for example?) is the promise of Proverbs 4:

But the path of the just is like the shining sun,
That shines ever brighter unto the perfect day.

Not easier, necessarily; not smoother, or lacking greater challenges. But brighter… unto the Perfect Day (a Day I can’t wait for.)

And since I’ve wandered into the realm of exhortation, I’ll just tack on the end of Proverbs 4, too, which is such wonderful wisdom for how to continue on that path of the just:

My son, give attention to my words;
Incline your ear to my sayings.
Do not let them depart from your eyes;
Keep them in the midst of your heart;
For they are life to those who find them,
And health to all their flesh.
Keep your heart with all diligence,
For out of it spring the issues of life.
Put away from you a deceitful mouth,
And put perverse lips far from you.
Let your eyes look straight ahead,
And your eyelids look right before you.
Ponder the path of your feet,
And let all your ways be established.
Do not turn to the right or the left;
Remove your foot from evil.

I am bound and determined that growing old is going to equal knowing Jesus more. Me decreasing, Him increasing. Finding what it means to have my strength supernaturally renewed. Outward perishing, inward renewed every day.

ephesians 2: But God

today’s manna:

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience — among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ — by grace you have been saved — and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.