Wrecked

Tonight I am sitting in a condo on Myrtle Beach, watching the sunset through the sliding door, and pondering the events of the past 24 hours. Let's just say it's been a little different than I anticipated.

We were a little behind schedule Friday night as we headed out for the beach, and E was just starting to doze right at 10pm, a full two hours past her usual bedtime. I was settling in for another two hours on the road, checking the iPod and securing E's toys away for the remainder of the trip when it felt as though our left rear tire exploded.

I remember looking at my husband and focusing all of my energy on praying that he would be able to maintain control long enough to guide us off the road. I heard screeching tires, but I just kept staring and praying. Without a doubt, God himself guided our car to safety on the side of the interstate, and I quickly realized that it wasn't our tire, but another vehicle that had bumped us while we were driving.

I called 911 to report the accident while my husband stepped out of the car to assess the situation. E, though completely fine, was no longer dozing of course. The driver of the other vehicle was also okay, and I learned soon after that she had fallen asleep while driving. After an hour on the side of the interstate, we moved the vehicles to the nearest exit ramp to more fully calculate the damage done to both vehicles. We took a few pictures, both of the accident and of the first time E has ever stayed up until midnight. These precious smiles were God's way of preparing my heart for the overwhelming sense of despair I felt when we got in the car, finally ready to continue, only to find out that our car battery had been completely drained by the past two hours of activity on the side of the road.


When we finally got back on the road, I was wrecked. I remember thinking that there were probably a lot of Christian women out there who would, at that time, lovingly look at their husbands and tell them how much they admired them for handling the situation so perfectly. I just sat there and cried and wished silently for my daddy, just knowing he would have all the answers if he were here.

In reality though, my God supplied our every need. Looking back on last night, I see how he protected us so completely. It could have easily been much much worse. E was such a trooper. My husband was incredibly capable. And me? God's power was made perfect through my weakness, just as his Word promises.

Real Life Distractions

One of the books I am mulling over right now is C.S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters. I recommended it to my friend C one day while we were talking about the reality of spiritual warfare. After she purchased it and started getting excited about it, I decided to refresh my memory on it so that we could discuss some of the major points.

As I opened it up this morning, I was burdened for one person in particular who I am convinced is just straight-up deceived by his own demon. My heart broke for him as I read the following passage, where Uncle Screwtape (a demon) is recalling a victory:

"I once had a patient, a sound atheist, who used to read in the British Museum. One day, as he sat reading, I saw a train of thought in his mind beginning to go the wrong way. I struck instantly at the part of the man which I had best under my control and suggested that it was just about time he had some lunch, [this was] much too important to tackle at the end of a morning, [it was] much better to come back after lunch and go into it with a fresh mind. Once he was in the street the battle was won. I showed him the newsboy shouting the midday paper, and a No. 73 bus going past, and before he reached the bottom of the steps, I had got him into an unalterable conviction that...a healthy dose of 'real life' was enough to show him that 'all that sort of thing' just couldn't be true. Thanks to the processes we set at work in them centuries ago, they find it all but impossible to believe in the unfamiliar while the familiar is before their eyes."

The father of this world, though he is very very good at crafting lies and manipulating the truth, is more than just deceptive on a deep, scientific level. In fact, because he knows he will never ultimately win in a battle of scientific rationale, I think he would much prefer to simply keep us distracted. Distracted by makeup, sports, kids, ice cream, birthdays, to-do lists, you name it...he doesn't care as long as it keeps us from resting at the feet of the Father of Creation and hearing that still, small voice that leads us in Truth and speaks Peace into our hearts. Real life comes only through Jesus Christ, friend! Oh, that you would taste and see that the Lord is good!!

Homecoming

E came home today, after spending 9 days with Nana and PopPop in the mountains! She's bigger, taller, smarter, sassier, sillier, and cuter. And apparently, she thinks the new bedtime routine must include a few minutes of "Mee-mo" (hint: he's a clown fish). Thanks...Nana.
Obviously, she thought we had a lot of catching up to do. One day this footage is going to be priceless!

Weekend Fun

We had a blast camping with Nana and PopPop this weekend. The final tally comes to:

54 deer
37 wild turkeys
18 miles of biking
14 ice cream cones

12 rounds of "Nemo"


9 black bears

7 outfits per day

6 bags of chips

5 s'mores

4 trips around Cades Cove


3 Moores/Bosts

2 hours of tubing down the river

...and 1 tired baby!!

It's unbelievable how much I love this little girl!!!

"What is Church" is the Wrong Question

I hate that question. Not that I really get it that often, because most people already have a preconceived notion of "what church is," so the conversation usually turns to a list of styles, songs, warm & fuzzy feelings, and what makes a good pastor.

I hate it because I am so guilty of getting sucked into qualifying a church by the "what's." I hate it because it is the wrong question. It is Satan's way of deceiving us into believing that we are better off on our own. The right question, the one that always leads us to the foot of the cross, is "Who is the Church?" And Paul gives an incredible answer in Ephesians:

"Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior...Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless...After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church— for we are members of his body."

Where am I going with all this? This morning, I went to church. My mom, my dad, my sister, my husband and I all sat around a picnic table at a campsite with a couple of bibles, and the Holy Spirit of the Living God was there among us as thick as a storm cloud. He blessed us with His Spirit as we walked prayerfully and carefully through some really tough issues that were causing division in our family. We were lovingly honest. There were tears. Our burdens were laid out on the table. Christ spoke through my husband many times to bring biblical insight into some of those "family" issues. I LOVE that my husband is able to speak such tender wisdom. We prayed together, prayed for guidance, prayed for acceptance, prayed for strongholds to be broken and peace to invade. It was a beautiful picture of the simplicity of church. Not a full picture of everything God intends for the church to be, but a sliver of that "cleansing by the washing of the water with the word."

The funny thing is that I didn't really want to sit down at the table this morning. My sister had made the suggestion that we all sit around the table and "talk about what God is doing in our lives." If you know me at all, invitations like that make me want to turn and run as fast as my legs will carry me to the next continent. I don't know why, they just do. I sat down begrudgingly, and God did something miraculous. I'm sure glad he doesn't need us, but I am so much more glad that he wants us anyway!!

Transformed

Since E is with my parents this week, my husband and I took a very rare opportunity to see a movie tonight with some close friends of ours. It's probably been months since we've seen a movie. Partly because we are very picky about what we're willing to pay $20 for, partly because with a babysitter, it never ends up being just $20. Dates for us usually consist of sipping on black coffee while perusing the local bookstore.

I have to admit that I walked away from the new Transformers movie a little worse for the wear. The action was incredible, and the theme of "sacrifice" certainly rang throughout the movie, but the enjoyment was greatly dampered by crude sexual humor and offensive language that seemed almost idolized by the movie characters.

In one particular scene, one of the characters turns to his companion and asks, "If humans are supposed to be made in the image of God, I wonder who made them (meaning the Transformers)?" How greatly saddened our God must be to not only be so blatantly disregarded and even mocked throughout a movie, but to then also be leveled to less than the creator of a comic icon.

The problem with this is that we sit in a theater seat with our minds wide open, with a popcorn in our left hand, a Coke in our right, and Sour Jacks in our lap. Armed for entertainment, not for the spiritual warfare that is about to take place. Along with the action and the drama and the comedy, our minds absorb messages that question our foundational beliefs, and these messages go unchallenged because we aren't even aware that it is happening!! And then we turn around and wonder why a certain word slipped out there or one of our kids responded a certain way, or why we just don't feel like getting in the Word today.

This is, undoubtedly, why Paul chastens the believers in the Roman church to "not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." Sometimes, if the battleground is too precarious, this means not even stepping foot into the theater. Sometimes, though, I think we can take opportunities like these to teach our kids (of the appropriate age) that they must be carefully discerning the messages that they are allowing into their heads. A phrase I'm sure that E will quickly tire of hearing in our house is, "Honey, it's never just a movie." Because one day, E is going to (whether by choice or accident) end up watching a movie with messages that challenge her faith. I firmly believe what she does in those moments will one day affect her decision to continue to follow Christ or to turn away from him. These messages will shape her worldview and her view of Christ. When she reaches college, if she is unable to solidly defend either of those, she will likely question her relationship with God.

Why are we losing ground with our children, our teens, our college students? Because they are bombarded each and every day with music, movies, and other messages that challenge their faith. My ultimate responsibility cannot be to shelter E or even to teach her to be a good person, but to give her the tool of discernment and to help her learn to suit up with spiritual armor so she can know the will of God and resist the temptations of the devil.

Aunt K

My sister, K, is living with us this summer as she completes an internship for school, and my husband (her brother-in-law) has now also become her landlord and employer for these few months.

I love my sister. I admire her so much that I chose to give our firstborn daughter her name in hopes that God will bless E with some of the same gifts and strengths that he has given to Aunt K. She's truly one of the most incredible examples of the love of Christ I will ever know, a claim many others in this world who would be quick to echo.

K has caused me a lot of reflection this summer, as I am struck by the realization that she and I are nearly polar opposites in strengths, personalities, and aspirations. Undeniably, we are not only biological sisters but also spiritual sisters, and these truths are more than enough to bind us together in Christ. Let's just say I'm getting a much clearer picture of the kind of beautiful conflict Solomon referred to as "iron sharpening iron."

A conversation just the other night went like this:

K walks in the door, obviously hungry
Me- "Would you like our leftover grilled chicken, and I'll put a potato in the microwave for you while you shower?" (I'm feeling really good about my graciousness)

K- "Sure, that'd be great." (She showers)

Skip forward one hour, and I walk in the kitchen and discover a mess (I'm feeling less gracious)

I start to clean, banging pots loudly together to get K's attention (I'm feeling even less gracious)

I walk into K's room (my flesh takes over, no more graciousness) and ask if she will come clean too

K (obviously responding to my flesh), walks into the kitchen, picks up the pot.

K- "I don't understand why it would've been so hard for you to clean this one pot."

Record screeching...WHAT?!?!?!?

Me- (thankfully, only in my head) "Ok, so you live in my house, I offer you my food, I start to clean up your mess, ask for you to help with one small thing, and instead of thanks, I get that?!?!"

I think, probably because we were both consumed with our flesh, we finished the task in silence.

A few days later, when I look back at this moment, I'm still convicted that we were both living in our flesh. I wish I could have been more truly serving, instead of expecting some kind of return on my gift of dinner. I wish K could have been more thankful with her actions (though I'll bet my hypocrisy blocked her opportunity to show appreciation).

The real question is how often I have this same posture with my Creator. How many times do I receive a gift from him without even thanking him? Worse yet, how many times do I offer a gift to him with the expectation of some kind of return, as if He should be indebted to me? Thankfully, I serve a perfect God who both understands and resists the temptation of the flesh and yet is endlessly merciful when I choose to walk in my flesh instead of in his mercy. Oh, how He loves!