What God has taught me...

in parenting a prodigal could fill a book, let alone a blog post. I will try to keep it short, but long-winded writing is an apt descriptor of my style. Ergh.

First, God has taught me that I am a bigger sinner than I think I am. Yes, it has been said that parenting gives us a glimpse of God's love for us, but more than that, parenting gives me a glimpse of the offense of my sin against my Heavenly Father.

Am I the only one who chafes at having done this and that and those things too for the child who then rises up in ungrateful stance and metaphorically spits on my provision? Or to have counseled and advised and warned and pled with the child from a word of wisdom and experience only to have him do exactly the opposite thing? Or to have forgiven a child of certain offense and see him repeatedly return to the grievous thing?

So incredibly offensive, is it not?

And God nods His head in knowing mutuality.

When we could talk about Bill Cosby without cringing, one could credit him with a line from his parenting video where he describes that his mom cursed him with the words, "I hope you have a child just like you!" And then one day he did.

I am reminded of Genesis 3:16, "To the woman he said, 'I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor you will give birth to your children.'"

I understand that the word "childbearing" does not just mean the physical act of labor at birth but has an extensive enough meaning to include child-rearing. And rightly so, I suppose. Because modern medical science has the elixir of an epidural for the physical act of labor, but there is no anesthesiologist who rushes in while you are dealing with an angry teen shouting hurtful words at you to say, "Here, let me ease the pain of those contractions." Contractions of the heart no less painful and often more so than the ones that contorted our faces at 8 centimeters.

Just today I heard Dan Doriani speaking on work and faith. He mentioned that the Genesis 3 curse is on the ground, not on work itself. Meaning, the ground we are to work will give us resistance all our days. Certainly, the work of parenting meets resistance in one form or another all of our days.

Second, I have learned how God's kindness is intended to draw us to repentance, Romans 2:4. This verse was always a bit puzzling to me, particularly as it follows after Romans 1 and Paul's declaration of how men are storing up God's wrath for themselves. But look at its context here:

"You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things.
Now we know that God’s judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere human being, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God’s judgment?

Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?

Tied to the first thing I have learned is this second thing--God saved me. And I was not deserving of His salvation at all. Rather I was entirely deserving of His wrath. But His kindness, forbearance, and patience with me, for me, did its work of leading me to repentance. In other words, if God can save a big, old, ugly sinner like me, then I can trust in His kindness, forbeareance, and patience with my prodigal son.

Not only so but the model of God's kindness, forbearance, and patience is mine to follow in how I relate to my son. Showing grace to him is not a get out of jail free card that ignores the necessity of discipline or personal responsibility. Showing grace to him must flow out of the grace that God has first shown me.

So when he sins and sins often, against me or others, my wrath is ineffective. Responding firmly and boldly with truth, with patience, and with thoughtfulness to natural and/or necessary consequences demonstrates a forbearance and kindness intended to draw him to repentance versus a shrieking, hollering, irrationally angry mom slamming things around and making statements that land you in the halls of ridiculous parenting alumnae. (I have certainly exhibited the latter part of that sentence more than I care to admit.)

Third, I have learned to value the smallest increments of relationship and to be grateful for them as a gift from God during this hard period of prodigality. The "it could be worse" is not only true for our own relationship--and there have been periods of utterly worse-ness--but my heart is quite sensitized to the pain I see in other parents grieving for their prodigals. And it could definitely be worse.

As such, I do value the moments of tension free conversation, the opening up of his ideas and thoughts to me without guardedness and hostility, or the exchange of humor and mutual respect. I am grateful for the "more" moments of peace compared to the "less" moments our home as known. I am more keenly aware of how my tone and facial expression can either set up a moment for blessing or doom it before it really begins.

In truth, realizing how much I valued these small things with this son made me aware of how I had taken them for granted with my other sons. Rectifying that relational deficit on my part has enriched my relationships with them.

To sum it up, my son's prodigality has been key to my own sanctification. Full of valleys, yes, but there are also moments on small rises, hilltops, where I see and am grateful for how God is working in me even as I trust Him to work in my son's life. God truly does use our sorrows and griefs for the working out of our good and His glory.

Learning from a mom who has gone before....

Now that is a treasure in today's world. To sit and talk with a mom who is bald-faced honest about her kids' mess-ups and screw-ups and yet still lives out the gospel before them and has an unshakeable faith in what God is doing--THAT is a treasure.

I know one mom in my circle who has done that with me. She mentored me when my kids were young and she still mentors me now that my sons are older. Her love for the Lord and His work in her kids' lives is convicting and encouraging to me. I am grateful for the treasure her words and prayers are in my life. She is a unique gift.

Gradually as I share my own story with other moms, I am finding strong, persevering women who are first not ashamed of the gospel and therefore, not ashamed of discussing the sins of their children with an eye to the redemption of Christ.

These moms love their kids, believe in their kids, have done all they know to do for their kids, and are sorely grieved when their kids make really crummy choices and so then suffer the even crummier consequences of their choices. But these moms do not give up. Because they have chosen to not build a personal reputation upon the successes of their kids, they are not devastated by the failures. Instead, these moms have fixed their eyes upon Jesus, knowing Him to be the author of their own faith, and the One who completes what He has begun.

These moms are the ones who are restorative in their words of encouragement to me. And I talk with them every chance that I get. From them I receive perspective for the battle in front of me, the battle for my kid's soul, the battle against a seductive world, and the battle of my own sin. With them I have freedom to both laugh and cry as shared sorrow becomes shared strength.

But back to the previous discussion, I do not see moms like this in the blogging world. Maybe it is the cynic in me, but honestly, I think moms today do not blog about the mess-ups not out of some sacrosanct privacy of their kid, but because to blog about the mess-ups invites a criticism of our parenting.

There. I said it. Not popular I suppose, but it is what I think.

There is a party line that reads like this, "If I have kids who live by faith and respond rightly to Christ, it is only by the grace of God, not because of my parenting. I am wholly imperfect." Yes, I agree. But the outworking of the unstated is that we believe our parenting does make a big, fat difference in how our kids turn out.

If we did not believe that, then why do we spend so much time, energy, money, prayers, tears, sweat, blah, blah, blah, on our parenting? For the most part it is an all-consuming investment of a significant portion of our lives. Is it not?

And I 'm not trying to set up some argument here that our parenting does not matter. I think it does. But the line between the impact of our parenting and the life results in our kids gets blurred a lot of the time and gets really blurred when a life screw-up is in view.

Cue the substantial Biblical evidence of 1 and 2 Kings, 1 and 2 Chronicles where kings who followed the laws of the Lord had sons who did evil and kings who did evil in the sight of the Lord had sons who followed the laws of the Lord. In other words, if it was a hard and fast principle that good Christian parents always produced good Christian children, then we wouldn't even have the story of the prodigal son, right?

Why then does parenting by the Book matter so much?

1) Because God has commanded us to tell our children of His word and His works. (Deuteronomy 6:4-6:7; Psalm 78)
2) Because God has commanded a parenting relationship in His law. (Exodus 20:12)
3) Because wisdom for life is only found in His word. (Proverbs 1:1-9)
4) Because a loving parent disciplines his/her children. (Hebrews 12:5-11)

So, how does one wrap this up? Well, I do not believe we abdicate our Christian responsibility when it comes to our kids in sharing our faith. Our parenting does matter. We must persist in it according to God's word, humbly dealing with our own sin and failures, while humbly dealing with our kids' sins and failures.

But I think we must also remember that His work in our kids' lives will ultimately show His glory over ours. So when the inevitable sins and failures come to light, we need not fear for our "reputation." With an eye fixed on Christ, with a heart for the beauty of the gospel, we can see our kids' sins as we do ours, in view of the redemption that Christ has purchased for us.

I wish that someone else was writing about this....

so I could learn from her.

The discussion of late has been on where are the mature women writers these days? When my boys were younger the blog world was filled with moms writing about their kids. Of course, back then, everyone had nicknames AKA code names for their kids because even though we were on social media we were suspect of it. Naming our real names or our kids' real names would most assuredly bring a stalker to our cul-de-sac.

Although, anyone who knew us in person and knew about our blog knew exactly who our kids were so those code names were really just figments of privacy. When it came to telling all the silly and all the fool that our kids did, our aggravations with and about, well, privacy and discretion were somewhat code words as well.

However, as those same kids moved past toddler years or elementary school years and gasp! began to read. Or as the blog we were writing became a bit more well known by the friends in our close circle who shared it with their friends in another state who told their friends in yet other states, well, then it was like finding out that your Christmas letter was on regular rotation through your grandmother's hair salon and it all seemed a bit TOO public.

Because, there always came the day when the kids featured in our clever, humorous, pithy blog posts found out that we were writing mostly about them (because where else does a mom find her fodder?) and they objected to having their lives shared on social media. How EmBarrAssing! Mom!

That is at least one scenario of what has driven the now mature moms of older kids into writing-not-any-more-land.

I think though, that there is another scenario. I think that for the most part every mom has her story of poop where it shouldn't have been and stomach bug disasters; of handling sibling rivalry and tears over a game loss; of funny moments at the kitchen table and aggravation at the messy rooms. These are the nearly shared experiences of parenting in the younger years. These are the experiences that we expect to happen and when they do, we read these events and empathetically nod our heads with her and comment something like, "I know just what you mean, sister!"

But when it comes to sharing the unpleasantries and difficulties of the older childhood years that maybe, perhaps, we think reflect badly upon us--is this what causes us to stop talking? Do we fear that if we speak out on the dining room table arguments at our house that there will be no one to say, "I know just what you mean, sister!"?

My son has rejected God. My daughter is pregnant. My daughter is addicted to drugs. My son is failing school. My daughter was caught shoplifting. My son was kicked off of the team.

These are not the things we "expected" to happen while living in the younger years. Our expectation is that these precious children in our home will grow up to embrace the values and beliefs of us, their adoring, loving parents. Sure, we will deal with sin. Everyone deals with sin. But when it comes down to it, we do not expect that their sin will rival our own.

We may assent to the truth that each child must make his/her own response of faith and therefore, responses of choice, but I think we live out in expectation that because we have poured the gospel, the catechism, the worship, the hymns, the preaching, the family worship, the devotions, the youth trips, the Sunday lunch discussion over the pastor's sermon, into them that of course, of course, of course, they will make the response of faith in God. And from that response will pour out nothing but good, solid, righteous fruit. The sins of the world, of the "faithless," will not touch these.

And then it does.

There is so much here. I can't write anymore on this right now. I will write more later.

Why would you write about a prodigal child?

I had to ask myself this before I started these blog posts because the discussion at hand was on the privacy and need for discretion related to our older children. So I thought about why I would write about a prodigal child.

1) I am not the only mom living with this reality.
2) I wish that someone else was writing about this so that I could learn from her.
3) In the absence of someone else writing about it, I decided that I would focus on writing what God has been teaching me in this reality.
4) I cannot ignore this reality with myself or with my child. If there was ever a call for honesty regarding the realities of eternity, it is now.
5) I love my son, and in all things I undertake to treat him with respect and love. Bold truth spoken in love is taking its form this way, for now.
6) Do not presume that I have told all things. I understand discretion.
7) I desire for God to be glorified in this reality though it reveal my many sins and errors. God will be glorified in my son's life whether in salvation or in judgment.

I imagine #7 bothers you the most. More about that later.

First, so I know that I am not the only mom living with this reality. But as I alluded to in my first post, mom get togethers, no matter the age of your child, focus more on the accomplishments and transcript building achievements than they do on the how do you say, "dirty laundry" events of life.

Usually, if I hear from a mom who also has a prodigal child, she is typically much older than I and the child is a grown adult who has left the home and is living on his or her own and is not going to church. About half of those conversations then also include the phrase, "But I know she/he accepted Christ as a child so I am praying that she/he will one day return to the church."

Honestly, I do not know how to respond to this statement. While yes, I know specifically of a time when this son told me that he prayed to receive Christ as His Lord and Savior, I have witnessed multiple life years of seeing no fruit, no repentance, no desire to grow, distaste for things of God, spurning of values and beliefs, and clearly spoken statements to the effect that he does not believe.

Now of course, I am not some hard-boiled pessimist who never hopes. I am, however, a realist when it comes to God's Word and what He says does or does not demonstrate life in Him. I regularly wrestle with the parable of the sower, wondering if seed that falls on the rocky places and springs up quickly, then withers because it has no root is a definite only verdict. My wrestling leads me to prayer and in prayer I ask God to prepare the soil of this son's heart, for I know that constantly His word, His seed, goes out. I do not believe in a complacent trust for a long past VBS prayer of current zero result. For even if said prayer was authentic, I am praying for a life that demonstrates the work of the Holy Spirit.

The hard part always circles back to my own sin as it is easy to fall into pious responses that communicate lack of love for him, i.e. holier than thou conversation does not create a winsome witness. So while not every interaction of words and actions between us will DECLARE the gospel, "I am cooking this dinner for you because God has provided spaghetti for us sinners tonight just as God has provided Jesus for salvation. Will you believe? Take and eat!" Every interchange of words and actions between us should declare the gospel, "Supper is ready. Let's pray."

Loving him by serving. Praying for his day. Asking about his day. Offering help with his school and activities. Being present when he talks. Appreciating his art and music. Even disciplining him when necessary with grace. All interactions of words and actions are to declare the gospel. That is the hard to live out work of the day.

I know that I am not the only mom living with this reality of a prodigal child. To that mom, I am listening. How are you living out the day to day gospel before your child? What will you share with me in how to persevere?

Sundays are hard....

Sundays used to be hard because getting out the door on time with all the people dressed, cleaned, fed, and Ready To Worship The Lord! was a task that brought all of hell's minions to bear upon every.little.detail. Shoes were missing. Pants were dirty. Shirts were not ironed. Someone was having a stomachache that required 38 minutes in the bathroom. Cinnamon rolls burned. The toilet was stopped up.

It was perfectly normal that by the time everyone got into the car, we were all grumpy, grousing, and in need of new salvation.

I kid, I know once saved, always saved. But do you know what I mean?

All my boys are older now and responsible for their own maintenance and upkeep for the most part. I left the business of wiping noses and bottoms many, many years ago. They do their own ironing. If they are wearing dirty pants, it is their own responsibility. And sometimes they get to church wearing tennis shoes because the church ones could not be found. I decided years ago that the battle of fashion was not the hill to die upon. As long as the "unpresentable" parts are covered, match or not, we will, however, be ON TIME.

The boys even make breakfast for the family as part of the Sunday morning carousel. I am all for that part of a Sabbath rest!

Sundays are hard in that as I'm getting ready in the morning I know that it will be a day of weeping. Weeping as the gospel is presented. Weeping as the hymns and songs are sung. Weeping as the words of God's grace preached to my soul reach deep into my own understanding while at the same time reminding me that as of yet, a son whom I love, does not hear nor see nor love its beauty for himself.

We sit on the back row of the church not because of my weeping, although that has become its own gift of sorts to not cause overmuch distraction. We sit on the back row because of all the wide shoulders of growing boys that do not fit on the shorter pews. It is important to us to sit as a family. And by all rights, we are a family by name, mailing address, and tax returns. But we are not a family in that one as of yet, a son whom I love, only participates in the liturgy of faith as an external rite.

So I weep. The affirmation of faith, the corporate confession, the words of encouragement, the pastoral prayer, all pieces and parts of what gives my own soul rest and strength for the week also brings pain. And pain brings prayer. Prayer for these words to not bounce off of a heart but to penetrate it. Prayer for the preaching seeds to sink deep roots into soil prepared by the Holy Spirit and not be choked out by life thorns or eaten by birds. Prayer that the most musical of sons will hear with his heart the hymns of faith.

In the denomination I grew up in, my prayer life didn't happen until the altar call when I fervently called out for someone, anyone, to please go speak to the pastor so that we could get to the restaurant on time. Now, my prayer life begins the moment I walk through the door.

I believe in the efficacy of the preached word. I believe in the privilege of corporate worship. I believe no matter what hell's minions might bring to bear on the details of getting out the door on a Sunday morning that every grace moment given with this son whom I love is potentially the grace moment of faith.

"You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. LORD, my God, I will praise you forever." 

Psalm 30:11-12

Living with a prodigal....

In this day and age I think almost everything has to have a caveat to prevent misunderstanding. And then of course, even a caveat can go wrong and require its own clarity. Oh vicious cycle of confusion!

But for the sake of what I am writing, I am defining "prodigal" as in Luke 15, "The Parable of the Prodigal Son." Meaning: I have a son, whom I love, who has rejected our family's beliefs, values, and faith; and who if he could, would, like the younger son of Luke 15, take his inheritance and live for himself in "reckless living."

Now, lest you think every day is fraught with hostility and gospel shouting sessions, it is not. Most days in fact, this son is polite, respectful, funny, and helpful. Most days he does not walk around glaring and declaring, "I have rejected God. Get out of my way!" I have come to mark those days as common grace.

But on the un-most days, his words and life practices declare a reversal of how Jesus taught his disciples to pray, "Our Father who is in heaven, hallowed be Your Name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done. On earth as it is in heaven." His prayer more closely resembles the following: If there is a heaven, great is my name. My kingdom come. My will be done. On earth as it is in my imagination."

As you might imagine, when that prayer has played on the reel in his head enough times, when life in the "kingdom as we know it called the home" does not go as he imagines it should, then there is quite definitely a stormy time for all. This reverse kingdom situation extends into school life and his views on entertainment, into his spare time activities and into his views for his future. He endures authority only for the idea that eventually he believes he will live without any at all.

On either set of days, with varying degrees of success, I have learned, painfully, that I am responsible for how I live out the gospel before him. Constantly my own sin of my own views of "personal kingdom" are confronted as I live under authority. When I complain about things not going my way, do I remember to think and so acknowledge that God's sovereignty in the situation is actually my best place? When I am frustrated by another's actions or choices, do I remember that I am responsible to forgive as I have been forgiven? When I am discontented with the providence full on my plate, do I confess that what I have is good and sufficient because God has provided?

I'm in the moms' group that is quick to say how much I have learned about the love of God for us once I had children. Yes, me too! I've learned so much. <insert motherly glow>

But the other side of that group's experience is how much I have learned about my own sin and God's forgiveness and grace for me once I had children. And while I would never, ever, never, have thought that living with a prodigal son would be for my best, it is. A small part of the ongoing redemption picture is that as God works through all things, these hard things, He is growing me in prayer, in practice, in thanksgiving, in earnestness for the gospel, in humility of grace, and in conviction of personal sin.

A New York minute is too slow when I think how quickly I would take all that I have learned for myself to see my son believe. But for right now, God has not given that choice. I can, however, rest in, "The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance." (2 Peter 3:9)

Yes, Lord, I believe. Help me in my unbelief.

My name is Lisa, and I have a rebellious teenaged son.....

If there were a support group for moms like me, I would be at every meeting making that same statement. I would weep with others as I have wept alone, and I would share the bits and pieces of hope that break into the darkness even as I would listen to their own glimpses of hoped for better. I know the intimate ache of a son who does not find delight in the Lord.

Unfortunately I have not found such a support group. Instead I have discovered that if or when I talk about my son's rejection of the Lord, it usually makes other people uncomfortable. Hard news does not find a place at the table of announcing accomplishments, awards, and achievements. In a community where pride in our sons and daughters is its own virtue, a difficult statement is a frowned upon indiscretion.

No Christian mom or dad wants to believe such a thing. How could it possibly be true? Haven't our kids been raised in the church? They are at youth group every Sunday night. They attend discipleship groups and serve on far and near mission trips. They not only know the answers to the Shorter Catechism, but they can speak the questions with you as well. And, if quizzed, they can even take you step by step in how to be saved.

Yes, he can for the most part. But he has also said quite clearly that he wants nothing to do with the Lord because he does not believe. He has said, even respectfully, that he only attends church and its functions because he knows it is a "rule" of the house. He admits that once this "God-thing" sounded all right, but now he states that it is just not for him. His life and practice do not demonstrate repentance.

You try telling someone those things in person and see if the main reaction isn't a tight lipped grimace accompanied by a sad shake of the head. All the while avoiding eye contact with you as they think how to change the conversation quickly. Ah, but first throw out a Bible verse that will solve it...."Well you know, God says, 'Train up a child in the way he will go and when he is old he will not depart from it.'"

Leaving me once again to consider if his rejection is my fault. Is my own struggle with sin lived out before him so devoid of victory that all he sees is hypocrisy and weakness? Has my own painful sanctification caused him to think it is hopeless to overcome sin? Has my lack of mercy and grace with others, including him, caused him to doubt the mercy and grace of God? Yes, yes, and yes. I am certain that on more than one point my lack, my debt, my trespass, my sin has been of negative value in his life.

However, I am equally sure he has seen and witnessed my confession and repentance when I have sinned against him and others. He has heard my humility and thanksgiving for forgiveness of sin. He has even known and albeit grudgingly admitted receiving mercy and grace personally at my hand. Still he confesses rejection of faith.

We have had all, ALL, the theological discussions on faith, sin, salvation, repentance, forgiveness, and grace. We have gone through the -tion words: justification, redemption, sanctification, propitiation, and glorification. We have answered to the best of our ability hard questions of "Why did God let sin into the garden? Why did Jesus have to die? Why does God allow bad things to happen? Why doesn't God answer all my prayers? How do we know that we are right and the Buddhists are wrong?" My den could be renamed the Areopagus for the number of apologetics sessions the walls have heard. Still he confesses rejection of the Lord.

I know how one is saved--by the regeneration of the Holy Spirit who brings the spiritually dead to spiritual life, giving them faith to respond with belief. I confess the sovereignty of God in election. I believe in the promise of the covenant that these things are for you and your children. Yet I have a child, a child of the covenant, a baptized child of the covenant, who lives as a covenant breaker.

What then have I learned in these four plus years of soul's travail?
1) The Holy Spirit is the One who convicts of sin and gives spiritual life
2) God is sovereign in salvation
3) Each one is responsible and accountable for his or her response to God
4) I cannot save my son AND I am responsible in word and life to witness to him the gospel of Jesus Christ as I have opportunity and breath in my body
5) Knowing he is saved by faith alone in Christ alone by grace alone will be a joy beyond measure, BUT I cannot make his salvation my idol

Perhaps he will one day believe what he sang as a little boy, "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know." Perhaps the Lord will in His mercy grant him the repentance that leads to faith. Perhaps the lived memory of Bible verses and church sermons and youth group talks and our den apologetics will one day be a part of a glorious awakening of his spirit. Perhaps one day.

But until that day, it is hard and it is grievous and there is no easy answer. Do not be a part of a community that pretends or ignores or pithily dismisses the ache of moms like me who just like you love their children and pray fervently for their entrance into the kingdom.

There will be more to say.

Bold truth in firm love...

what the heck do I mean by that?

Well, let's see, here is a quote from an email I received from a mom with a question about her 6th grader. She said that she was asking for my counsel, "because of your extensive experience in raising boys through the middle school years, and your exceptionally high standards, and your complete lack of accepting excuses..."

Not only did that line cause me pause but I also laughed out loud. I readily acknowledge that I have a reputation as a straight shooter of sorts who will cut the bull, land the punch, and say it like it is.

When I turned 40, I announced to some friends that I had decided to take my Mimi's tactic when she turned 80 to say what I thought and no more holding back. To which one of those friends responded, "And how would that be different than now?"

Regardless, it is true that through the years my telling it like it is has varied both in truth (that it is like I am telling it), in maturity (spiritual growth and using godly filtering), and timing (honesty is the best policy but timing is everything).  And on many occasions, both at my fault and at no fault of my own, my speech has been interpreted as being without compassion, sympathy, and even gentleness.

And while I am not a touchy-feely girl, I do desire to evidence compassion, sympathy, and gentleness in my speech to others. I am very much a work in progress in all those things. Still.

So when someone comes to ask what I think about said child raising issues, I do not coddle the truth. I honestly do not think any mom has time or genuine need for less than the true truth. If she is brave enough to ask another mom what she thinks, while she certainly needs affirmation for her mothering, she also needs the truth she is asking to receive.

Affirmation for her mothering is firm love. I tell her what she is doing that accords with God's word, that demonstrates His grace to her, that speaks to her own spiritual growth, and is a blessing to the kingdom.

Affirmation is also bold truth to say and show her where she is coddling personal sin or denying what is really going on with her child. This is affirmation because it is God's grace when He shows us our sin and keeps us by His Spirit to confess, repent, and believe in truth. Over and over again.

It is not affirmation to falsely flatter a mom who is disregarding Biblical instruction regarding her child. For example, a child that is sassing his mom is not "just tired and needs a nap." He is being disrespectful and she is allowing that sin to continue by denying the sass (disrespect) as sin. Excuses are not a gentle restoring of the sinner (Gal. 6:1). When the Israelites were quarreling, grumbling, and complaining against Moses in the wilderness, did the Lord comfort Moses with the words, "They are just tired and need a nap."?

Of course not. The Lord dealt with the sin. And it was grace that He dealt with the sin in such a way as to point them to Christ. (Exo. 17)

Anyway, there are numerous examples of the sins of childhood and at least double that for the ways that moms (all of us) have wrongly excused the sin for an even greater number of reasons. Doing so will eventually lead a mom to the end of herself and when that mom asks me what to do, I tell her the truth.

Boldly. Firmly. Because it is how the Lord tells us the truth about Himself and His works in His word. Boldly. Firmly. There is no Book of Hesitations. No Book of Excuses. No Book of Denial. His Word is good and right and true and just and merciful and penetrating and sharper than a two-edged sword.

"All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work." 2 Timothy 3:16

P.S. And lest anyone think that Jesus deviated from a bold and firm truth when it came to His words, remember that He was clear to say, "My teaching is not mine, but His who sent me." John 7:16 Numerous times Jesus repeated the statement that His words to His hearers were straight from the One who sent Him.

P.P.S. There is more to say on this I'm sure, but ending it here for now. I'll see what strikes next.

Not the other woman....

but the older woman is what I have become. Funny, hasn't it been said that you're only as old as you think you are? If that's true, I'm still somewhere in my 20's. With the wisdom of my 40's of course. Weird, right?

Anyway, older woman status has been driven home in several ways of late. Most recently has been the requests of younger moms with sons asking for advice in raising sons. I don't yet have an empty nest. My oldest will be 18 in July. My middle just turned 17. And my youngest will be 14 in two weeks. I still know myself to be firmly ensconced in the work of "raising sons."

But I understand their questions, because when my boys were toddlers, preschoolers, elementary, and middle school, I was always looking for a mom just slightly ahead of me to ask how she did thus and so or what to do when the son did this and that. The questions come both from bewilderment over what in the world to do as much as from a need for affirmation that you are not raising the next Manson.

It can be bleak as a mom to know to whom to turn and ask in the noise of parenting articles proliferating in magazines, books, and social media. Fortunately, I was able to find a spiritual mentoring mom who took me firmly by the chin and told me to raise those boys to be "assets in the kingdom and not liabilities!" It became a mantra for me.

Seeing a 4 year old have a tantrum might have an element of cuteness to it (oh he's just tired), but is that what I want to see when he is 14 and bigger than me? A 6 year old that can not control his emotions we chalk up to immaturity (and it is), but if he is not taught how to control his emotions, than what will be the result at 16 years old (dangerous, reckless, lack of self controlled behavior)? Based on her counsel, I began to filter my decisions through the long view questions of, "Am I willing to see 'this' behavior from this son when he is a young man, a young husband, a young dad?" "What is the Biblical principle happening here?"

Long view parenting means that we don't parent for the moment but we parent for the lifetime of that child who will eventually be required to take a place in society as either an asset or a liability.

It was valuable advice and this woman is still one that I can go to for those questions that plague the moms of older sons--jobs, girls, cars, college, life choices, etc. I imagine that even when that empty nest comes, she will be a beacon of counsel for how to interact with my adult sons.

So now the younger moms are coming to me with similar questions and I have to quickly blink my eyes to realize how rapidly the years have passed and although I still feel very much in the thick of it, I have the Biblical responsibility to do as my spiritual mentoring mom did for me--to speak the bold truth in firm love.

Speaking bold truth in firm love--yep, that's what I'll blog about next time. Put on your steel toed shoes.

And then all these good things began to happen....

right after I accepted Jesus.

That's the paltry paraphrase of an "encouraging" story I heard on a Christian radio station the other day. Yes, I'm a bit snarky about it.

For years I've said that the reason church marquees don't post, "Follow Jesus and suffer with Him!" is because that message is not really one that brings in the crowds. Doughnuts and a coffee bar are more welcoming by far.

And it does not matter one whit that Jesus used language like "count the cost" and "pick up your cross and follow me." We seem to still hear some twisted refrain of follow Jesus and all will be temporally well. It's a soft sell of an evangelical preamble for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness--all to be had this side of the Jordan.

I don't know the woman who called in with her encouraging story and I am not disregarding the sweet goodness of God to show His hand in her life through real and temporal blessings. However, I can't help but think of the many people who heard this "testimony" who believe in Jesus, who have also trusted in Him, and who are smack dab in the middle of a dang, miry pit wondering, "How long, O Lord?"

Temporal blessing is not the promise of Christ. Eternal life is. And the distance between the temporal and eternal is greater than the measured days of a mortal life. Choosing Christ, believing on Christ, living for Christ is the greatest thing you can do in this life, but doing so to get a greater life is not just a rose colored view of the cross, it is a cheap one.

And interpreting our salvation as that which only gets us a better life is the cheapest of the cheap.

Jesus did not die so that you and I could get a promotion at work, win a contest, or have a great parking spot. All of these I've heard as testimony to what being saved has done in a person's life. Gah! What in the world?

How possibly do those words stand in the same vein of "testimony" as the ones from Hebrew 11:37-39, "They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated--of whom the world was not worthy--wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth. And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect."

The gift of salvation secured on the Cross by Jesus Christ is not a punch ticket for temporal benefits. It is an everlasting seal of the Holy Spirit, a guarantee of our inheritance, and for the praise of His glory. (Eph. 1:14)

Pregnancy transformation...

is what happens soon after that positive pregnancy test. In fact, before you take a pregnancy test you may have some signs of change--feelings of nausea and queasiness, heightened smell, an aversion to some tastes, and usually what prompts the test is being late for the monthly visit of Aunt Flo. But there is something that happens mentally when a woman sees that clear blue or pink line--all of a sudden everything that happens to her physically is filtered through the news that she is now pregnant.

An ache on the lower left side--ligaments stretching? A bout of heartburn--because you're pregnant, of course. A darker patch on your skin--that darned pregnancy mask. Positive testing women pick up the 72nd edition of What To Know When You Are Expecting and read every sign, symptom and symbol with the expectation that they will experience each and every one. Even the ones you don't want to actually experience.

I'm not pregnant, but this illustration came to mind when thinking about a question I was asked on the whole, "is someone really saved or not" issue. I always cringe when I'm asked that because I know that most of the time the one asking will not like my answer. The one asking is always asking about a loved one, a dear family member or friend, someone that they desperately want good for and in asking the question they are really asking for reassurance about their loved one's eternal state.

I've got loved ones just like that so I understand the groan and ache of heart that precedes the question. But the part they don't like to hear, the part I don't like to say, but the part that must be said is that a person who is truly saved will be transformed in their lives in heart, mind, and actions. True salvation affects external life changes because true salvation is the regeneration of life from within that can't help but flow to the outside.

"What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it? Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death  in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life." Romans 6:1-4

Someone who has said the prayer or walked the aisle or signed the card or attended the revival and has had the outward, external signs of salvation but is still living for self in most if not all respects, who is hostile towards Christian fellowship, who is unrepentant regarding their sin, who does not desire to know the Lord through His Word, who is defensive regarding life changes....it begs the question, what effect, if any, did those outward, external signs of salvation have?

Hence the illustration of pregnancy. A positive pregnancy test will only lead to actual physical transformation that proves to be a real pregnancy, that of a real life growing within and a baby born after nine months. Before a woman is shown to be pregnant externally with the swelling belly, breasts, and ankles, she is indeed pregnant. But the fruit of that pregnancy cannot be hidden and she would be hard pressed if she continued to insist she was pregnant if no external signs ever appeared and certainly if no baby came after the requisite 40 weeks.

However, our current evangelical culture does not seem to think it strange in any sense for person after person to claim the positive line test of salvation and then live week after week, month after month, even year after year, with not the first external evidence of an internal event.

And here is the thin ice. No one knows the heart of another. How and when and by what means God saves one and His Holy Spirit begins to work in that heart and bring about change is all of His timetable and no one else. And I know that to even indicate that a person is not saved (because of no outward life changes) is the pile on invitation of the year for calls of judgey judgmentalism and legalism and lack of grace and unkindness and all that.

So I can only expect first in my own heart that true salvation will affect true life change in my own life and pray that the many loved ones where the question still hangs will be found justified in Christ and not in anything else.

Light in the shower....

Not long after we moved into our house, nearly 12 years ago now, the light in our shower went out. The original light was not that bright, but you were able to see all the important stuff necessary in the shower experience. I thought. When Husband replaced the light though he put in an outdoor light. Without my knowledge.

The next morning I blearily went in to take my shower. Because of the way the curtain falls, at first I couldn't detect the blazing brightness awaiting me. And then I pulled back the curtain.

Wow! That light was bright. So bright that it took some rapid blinking and much squinting to even be able to start my shower. I considered sunglasses. I wondered if I'd have a headache by the time I was finished. I could feel myself getting tanned.

Then I realized some of the benefits to this bright sunshine light above me. First, there was that stray hair on my right ankle that I always missed while shaving. Not this time. Secondly, even if unfortunately, I could see what corner still needed some bleach and elbow grease. Thirdly, there was no question that I was wide awake, alert to not only the shower but the things that needed taking care of both personally and in household matters.

And if I were a shower singer, this was a light as bright as Broadway for whatever tune I wanted to belt out. But I spared us all. You are welcome.

The other day, our outdoor style shower light went out. Husband replaced it with what we had available from our supply. This light is like the original one. Not bright at all. He warned me that he had to make the change and assured me that if I didn't like it he would get another outdoor light.

The first shower I took under this light felt like I was showering in the dark. I asked him what he thought and he said it was certainly dimmer, but guessed he could get used to it.

But I don't like it. I don't want to get used to it. The brightness was what I needed first thing in the morning. I'm sure I'm missing that hair on my right ankle. Again. And who knows where or what else I'm missing. Is it weird that I don't feel like I get as clean?

I'm still sleepy some mornings when I leave the shower. The brightness demands you wake up, the dimness lulls you into believing the day is not ready to start. And I'm sure the mildew is taking every advantage of the darker atmosphere to creep its way in.

My shower light inconvenience has had me thinking about it's illustration of current world circumstances. Our nation at one time existed under the brightness of God's Word in our founding, in our schools, in our churches, in our social systems, and in our homes. Instead of going out in one great flash though, the brightness has dimmed, and we have become accustomed to the dimness.

Think of what we're missing, think of how the mildew is creeping in, and think of how we are being lulled into a spiritual sleepiness towards the things of God.

We need the bright light of truth to return. It will only return by the people of God saying, "No more!"

What will I do this year as part of saying, "No more!"?

Some years ago I was....

involved in a relationship that had its troubles. At one of the many attempts to repair, restore, and reconcile, she mentioned that there were numerous times when she did not tell me certain things because she was afraid that I would disagree with her.

I was shocked to hear this because, as I told her, one of the reasons that I appreciated her friendship and told her certain things was to have her confront me if she thought me wrong. I told her that while I didn't think friendship was meant to be combative, I did believe that it was meant to be rightly and lovingly confrontative. I don't want friends who only think that everything I do is absolutely right. I know it's not. I am grateful for those who lovingly, Biblically point out my error so that I can repent and be corrected.

The friendship with this particular woman did not last. In the years since I have often replayed that conversation. I do not think my error was in pointing out truth or even in disagreeing with her on things, but I do know that He has allowed me to grow in tact and graciousness. And still growing.

Yet, the truth remains that when it comes to saying what I think, I am decidedly plainspoken. The most common comment on my plainspoken habits is that I can be intimidating. Maybe I'm a verbal bouncer of sorts. I don't set out to be, but I admittedly do not care to "play the games the reindeer play." (Think Rudolph's song.)

I was having this conversation with another friend via phone the other day. I told her I wondered what people meant when they say that a friend to them is like iron sharpening iron when realistically it sounds, looks, acts, and quacks as though they only seek out those who verbally affirm everything they do and or say.  Isn't that more like a silver polishing cloth on silver, barely tarnished?

Iron that sharpens iron involves grating and filing and even comes with sparks! too. The friends that have most helped me grow in understanding and compassion and in the Lord are those who challenge my thinking, my feelings, and my actions. They cause me to measure myself not against them or against my own wrong standards but against His Word. And Hebrews 4:12-13 will give you all you need on what it's like to have His Word work you over, work you through, and work in you.

Plainspoken I desire to remain. Growing in understanding how to confront lovingly and Biblically, with tact and graciousness, I desire as well. Sparks are in my future it seems.

One of the workshops...

I attended at TGCW12 was a panel talk featuring Kathleen Nielson as moderator, Colleen Gallagher, Deb Lorentson, Jenny Salt, and Carrie Sandom. Jenny, Carrie, and Kathleen were also plenary session speakers.

The workshop was entitled, "Training Women to Teach the Bible: Why, What, Where, & How?" Kathleen facilitated the discussion. She emphasized that the focus was on expository teaching of the Bible. This was defined by Colleen as a way to work systematically through the passages of a book of the Bible within the whole context of God's entire redemptive work. Exposition has at its heart the truth that the Bible is about God's redemptive purposes in Christ.

Kathleen asked why was Bible exposition important to women. Colleen answered from Titus 2, not as only a discipleship reason of the older women to the younger women, but more from the point that all of Titus is an imperative to the Christian to teach sound doctrine so that the Word of God is not reviled.

Hoo-rah! I wanted to shout. My argument for years regarding women's Bible study is their overblown, overwrought emphasis on "felt needs" ministry. Read this post by Jen Wilkins to see what I'm really talking about but she says it so much better so just read it there. Basically we go to Bible study to be changed or improved in our daily living. Yes, God's Word changes us. And yes, it most certainly can improve us. But the Scripture is not a multi-vitamin supplemental super-pill to keep our joints from aching, our cholesterol from rising, or our memory sharp. Scripture is all about Christ and His glory no matter our joints, cholesterol, or failing minds.

There is also such a heavy dependence on the "fill-in-the-blank" study methods that if and if ever a woman is presented with the task of reading and thinking through a book of the Bible without the helps, her mind is virtually blank on how to go about the process of understanding the words that lie on the page.

But we are commanded as His people to understand, to delight in, to meditate on, to apply, to be renewed in, to be transformed by His Word. This doesn't happen in a vacuum and it doesn't happen without time and it doesn't happen without effort.

So how does it happen? A consistent theme from this panel came out in this way:
1) An intentional, strategic leadership that was excited about and worked towards the training and education of their laity
2) An intentional, disciplined, even patient taking of opportunities by the laity to receive and/or seek out opportunities for training
3) Mentorship and one-to-one discipleship opportunities; both offered & sought out & then implemented
4) A refusal to put ourselves as the main characters in Scripture through experience based or emotionally driven studies; instead, a focus on God's redemptive work through Christ as the focus

I realize that you, like me, may not have all of these things available to you for this season of life. Honestly, I'd love to go to seminary but two teens, a tween, a husband, and a job preclude a full time student's life for me right now. But I am able to avail myself of solid resources, to give up TV time and even reading of other things time, for a pursuit of the opportunities present.

Sometimes that means downloading a sermon while I walk on the treadmill or reading a chapter a day of a book on doctrine. It always means sometime everyday spending time reading Scripture. Placing myself before and under His Word whether I do homiletics on it or memorize it or just read it is profitable for my life and heart.

Women must be teachers and tellers of a sound word so that the Word of God is not reviled, so that the legacy of the gospel is passed on to the next generation. 

A moment in peanut butter....

happened yesterday at the store.

You know that whoever you start out with in produce is who you will travel with throughout the aisles all the way until cheese and yogurt. Sometimes after a couple of rounds, usually around crackers and cereal, after witnessing the travel habits of my fellow cart pushers, I will reverse direction. Just to get out of the cycle. Literally.

Yesterday I was in route with an elderly woman and a middle aged woman. The second woman might have been the first's daughter or daughter-in-law. From the conversation they were having, from evidence of the first woman's arm being in a sling, I pictured that perhaps reduced circumstances of living had come upon the first woman.

There was a great deal of negotiating about what could be purchased, whether or not the elderly woman would eat it, the need for small steps of lifestyle change. The first woman's face showed sorrow and frustration. The second woman's manner illustrated frustration and fatigue. Facing some of my own small steps of lifestyle change and fatigue, I left the cycle. I didn't want to hear anymore that life changes are not always pleasant, but we must soldier on.

I skipped to the yogurt. But while there I realized I had forgotten the bread. I remembered the hamburger buns but had forgotten the bread. Back I go only to pass these two in front of the peanut butter debating a creamy brand that would not be too dry, that would taste good, that was not too expensive. To the bread, I told myself, stay out of it.

One pass, two passes, and dagnabbit, I had forgotten to check a price on some trail mix which happens to be across from.....the peanut butter. Where still the conversation, reaching argument status, went on about a suitable peanut butter.

I intervened.

"I'm sorry, but I overheard that the two of you are trying to find a creamy peanut butter that is not too dry and tastes good? May I recommend ________?"

Relief flooded through all of us. Them because an objective third party had an opinion that took them out of the cycle. Relief through me because now if there was blame for a wrong choice, it would not rest between them, but on me, an intervening stranger with a fixed opinion regarding creamy peanut butter.

Into the cart the choice went, the selection made, and now at least that part of the cycle was over. I passed these two a few more times before the shopping trip was over. Weary we all are at how our lives are playing out, but perhaps when that sandwich is made, when the peanut butter is spread, relief will occur again. Even if only for the eating of peanut butter.

Friday adventures told on a...

Saturday.

A group of friends, fellow homeschooling moms, get together two Fridays a month for the kids to play together and for the moms to strengthen and encourage one another. Also known as laughing ourselves silly over this thing called the homeschooling life. The absurdities and the serious truths all get meshed together in one huge hodge podge while the kids run through the woods or the game room or jump on the trampoline or swim in the pool based on whose house is hosting.

This past Friday it was my house. And since Old Man Winter is not coming South this year, the day was sunny and the kids were woods rambling. When it came time for one family to leave so a dance class could be attended, we called the kids in. Except two didn't show up. Two of the girls. Questions and the answers that followed uncovered that while in the woods, these two had peeled off from the main group to talk.

After much talking and walking and not a great deal of paying attention, the result was they were lost. In the woods behind my house. My boys, who are quite aware of our woods, took off to find them. One of the girls had her cell phone so we did get in touch with them that way, but she didn't know where they were and neither did we. There are over a hundred acres of woods behind us.

Husband was home early on Friday so he got on the phone with her and began asking questions. At first she tried to tell him about the hay bales and the horses and the trees and the creek and the number of hills they had gone up when he stopped her and said, "You've got to trust me to get you out. The things that you are seeing are not things I can see. We need to use the same reference point. Tell me where the sun is based on where you are standing."

And with the reference point of the sun, he was able to tell her which direction to walk. He stayed on the phone with her and eventually the girls reached a main road where he was able to pick them up and drive back. The whole adventure lasting nearly three hours. No one had panicked, but everyone was greatly relieved to have them back, safe, a bit thirsty and hungry, and with a story to tell, but all right.

In talking to the boys about it, Husband said the whole thing served as a perfect illustration of what happens in life. We get busy walking and talking and forget our direction. Without a central reference point of truth, we try to find our way out or in or to by only what we can see. But our eyes not only deceive us when we're lost, but the sights (circumstances) around us cannot be our reference point because they change. Only the truth of God's Word can be a lasting reference point for which direction to walk. His Word does not change nor does it deceive. His Word endures forever.

Finding delight, Week 2...

has to begin with the negative before the positive.  

This is my second posting in Alabamenagerie's blog carnival on Finding Delight in God's Word.

I've got a friend who is seeking Christian community, the type of fellowship where sharing what God is doing in your lives is not cliche but warmly welcomed. Where words like "authenticity" and "vulnerability" truthfully describe the interchanges rather than tagline the time together. However, the peer group currently within her grasp is not open to such spiritual growth exploration and has responded with phrases as "I don't want any homework," "I only want fellowship," and "I can't commit to anything else right now." They want a bunko group without the cards but with all the actual "bunko."

She's frustrated. I'm frustrated with her and for her. Talking with her about the issue brought to mind this week's study of Acts 17:16-34. Paul has gone to Athens. He is alone and walking through the city where he is "greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols." Athens features two intellectual groups. The Epicureans (whose greatest ambition was to avoid pain and seek pleasure) and the Stoics (whose highest ideals were virtue, personal responsibility, and providence). Verse 21 describes the climate, "All the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas." As far as they were concerned, Paul was merely the latest talking head.

There is an idol to an "unknown" god. And it is on that point that Paul gives a great apologetic discourse of how, "The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. And He is not served by human hands, as if He needed anything, because He Himself gives all men life and breath and everything else....God did this so that men would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us...He commands all people everywhere to repent. For He has set a day when He will judge the world with justice by the man He has appointed." (Verses 24, 27, 31)

As Paul goes on to speak of Jesus Christ's resurrection from the dead, the formerly polite attitude of listening to him turns to mocking and sneering. Doesn't seem like there could be any finding of delight in this scenario, does it?

Read verse 34, "A few men became followers of Paul and believed. Among them was Dionysius, a member of the Areopagus, also a woman named Damaris, and a number of others."

That's where I chose to see delight--in the truth that God's people are found by Him even when the climate is utterly hostile to Him and His truth. He has prepared hearts that will always respond to Him. The numbers may be few, but He knows His sheep and they hear His voice and follow Him.

For my friend who seems surrounded by Epicureans and Stoics, I was able to point her to this passage and encourage her that a Damaris then can be a Damaris now. Start small, but start. Seek Him, and trust that the God who has determined the very places and times for men (and women) to live, knows exactly with whom she will have genuine Christian community.

Because isn't that the essence of delight? To delight in His Word and its sanctifying, refining, beautifying influence in the lives of those who will call Him Lord.

Part four...

Part one is here, Part two is here, Part three is here)

Clarity can give you a headache and a heartache. I had both at this point. I had fully entered the arena of examining past relationships that had turned hurtful and present relationships that sharpened with grace. The result being that I knew God was and is being glorified in my weakness and sin, amidst the presence of pain. There is no bye on His work.

A friend's willingness to have God work out whatever, however, and whenever in her life directly benefits me because as she is refined by the Lord, she learns how to love me in the midst of my own refinement. Likewise, I am able to show this grace to others.

Not even perfectly, but hopefully, prayerfully, with the wrestling perseverance of Jacob. There will be scars in the process. Embracing God's purpose in those scars will mark how He is reflected to others.

Letting this part sink in has given me new gratitude for even the most detrimental of past relationships. Would I have chosen for these things to happen? Would I like a do-over on my own ungodly responses? Would I hope for a future true and biblical reconciliation? No, yes, and absolutely yes.

But whether or not my wishes are within reality, I can unequivocally trust that God will be glorified. In my sin--as He convicts and disciplines; and in my victory--as He receives the credit for mercy shown to me.

On to close the circle started here. When it comes to my parenting relationships, there are certainly some regrets, desires for do-overs, and always some ongoing refinement. God has given me new confidence and hope though in how I can biblically approach those issues. His work in me and my sons will scar and mark us all. The choice always looms as to how I will show those scars and how they will learn to view the scars. I could easily pretend that there is constant harmony and each one of us is moving from high point to spiritual pinnacle in obedience and love of God.

And that would be a lie better seen on t-shirts entitled, "Life is good," than lived out. The truth is only "God is good," and He exhorts us to tell that story much more loudly. Especially when life is not at all good. How much more valuable to receive all things from God instead of only the blessings that are just like we want them? How much more precious will be the praise from our lips as we exalt Him for working in the "ugly" as well as the "glorious"?

The one good story is that we are the greatest of sinners and Jesus Christ is the greatest of Saviors. To Him alone let us run in every circumstance. Let the truth of His scars borne for us work in us gratitude for the scars that tell of how we are being conformed to His image.

Part three...

(Part one is here and Part two is here.)

To catch us all up: Part one is where I wrestle with the truth that God may glorify Himself in my life through my weaknesses and afflictions much more than through my strengths and blessings. Part two is where I wrestle with the truth that female friendship for me has always been complicated and usually fraught with hurts.

I do not think I am the only woman who has ever been stunned by the truth that Christian friendships are not immune to sin's toxicity. I do not think either that I am the only woman who has ever been disillusioned by the betrayal of another woman who professes Christ as loudly as I do. To state anything less than I have been on the giving and receiving end of ungodly behavior in relationships is a lie. I have both sinned and been sinned against in Christian female friendships.

What should have been some of my most edifying relationships have more than once become the deepest hurts.

So then, where does biblical reconciliation fit into the picture. Reconciliation is the process where two parties at odds with one another are restored to harmony. When it comes to human interactions, both persons are in some way responsible for the disharmony, because of direct and indirect actions, sinful thoughts, deceitful hearts and the like. The whole idea of only one person being entirely guilty is a myth I believe lives somewhere with Sasquatch. It is therefore impossible for biblical reconciliation to occur where only one person confesses sin in the matter. Being a Christian should make biblical reconciliation easier, but it does not always do so.

Fitzpatrick's challenge about God's sovereign purposes and Kim's question about Christian female friendships had my thoughts on a collision course as to what then does survive in the latter and is glorified by the former?

I'm lifting a portion of my comment from Kim's post on this topic: "In continuing to think about this topic I realized that the "kindred spirits" friendships I have developed and kept are all with women who have been, even quite severely, tested and refined by God. They have an uncommon love & gratitude for His overwhelming mercy. They love to think the deep thoughts and don't major in the shallow end. These are the women who show themselves trustworthy in my own difficulties and don't run for fear of "contagion" in affliction. Conversations that do not get past the latest trend or TV show do not have this intimacy."

Clarity like lightning struck my tree. The women with whom I have grown most close to in the years are undeniably the women who have chosen the no matter, whatever, however, and whenever blessing of the Lord as theirs. They are not walking around asking for affliction but when it comes knocking, and it does, they lean further into His word and promises rather than leaning away and upon the world's props.

Not perfectly even, but with the wrestling match perseverance of Jacob. They come away scathed, marked and scarred, and they do not run out to purchase Mederma so they can hide those scars. They wear them with the understanding that these are not marks of superiority but of His great love to conform them to the image of Christ who wears the greatest scars from the Cross.

In learning what drives these women to walk the hard path, they have challenged me and loved me more truly as Christ loves because they have a deep, abiding love for His grace shown to them.

On the other hand, the friendships that should have been edifying but became toxic involved great immaturity towards the things of the Lord. On both sides. The collision of immaturity plus the presence of pride, selfishness and unrepentance easily led to breakage. Even irreconcilable breakage.

If you've endured this long, you deserve a muffin. I just baked 36 of them. Come on over. In the meantime, there is still a part four to come. Succinct I am not always.

Part two...

(Part one is here.)

Kim Shay, of The Upward Call, is a friend I have never met other than online. I'm not launching into a discussion on the merits of online friendship but suffice it to say that I view modern day blogging and its accompanying social media distinctive to creating friendship as pen pals once did.

Kim asked me the other day for my opinion of Christian female friendships. I was less than glowing in my first thoughts and even when I did write to her my thoughts, I struggled with the struggle of describing something that has been both edifying and debilitating in my life.

I have previously said that God's sense of humor must run very deep to have placed me as a leader of women when all my life I was suspect of friendships with women. Past baggage does not fly free either.

Her name was Amy. She had short brown hair cut like Dorothy Hamill and an Irish Red Setter who had puppies. I wanted one. Mom and Dad said no. But that's another event. She was my best friend in first grade and she invited me to go skating with her. Mom said yes. I was over the moon because first there was her birthday party and then there would be the whole going skating thing. My social calendar was packed.

Melissa came to the birthday party. She was new. But that did not matter at all when she gave Amy a Barbie Fashion Styling Head. Now Amy was over the moon. I don't remember what I gave her because everyone was looking at the blue eyeshadow Barbie would soon wear. It was only an hour after the birthday party when Amy called and said she was taking Melissa skating. Instead.

Lessons in distrusting female friendship started early and progressed rapidly. By ten years old, I had concluded that boys (as friends) were easier creatures to understand. Simple, even. (I say it in the kindest manner.) Disputes were settled quickly, shrugged off entirely and did not involve a playground gang up of name calling, note exchanging and un-friending.

The female friends that I did make in school and college thought quite like myself regarding their own past baggage of female friendships. Only after marriage, while participating in a ladies' Bible study, did I truly think that perhaps female Christian friendships might be different than my past experience.

It seemed simple. If both women were Christians, lovers of Christ and His Cross and His gospel, then potentially disputes would not even happen because we would all be loving one another more than we loved ourselves and bearing with one another in forgiveness and we would be lovers of the truth. Certainly if a dispute, an utter exceptional event happened, then obviously each one would be quick to repent and believe and reconcile. Right?

Needle scratches across the record>

Yeah, right. My name is Opia and I live in Ut. And tomorrow I'll write about Part three.