KathyAddis

I have to admit I don’t remember a lot about the process of having my babies. Many of the details have been reduced to tiny snippets from days 19 and 21 years ago. I do remember it was scary, exhausting, anxiety inducing and painful, though specific details are lost partly due to onboard medication and partly due to God’s grace. One thing, one moment I very clearly remember was during the birth of our youngest son. He was my second baby he was my first real “labor” since my first delivery was a pretty quick cesarean. By this particular point in the process I was fully aware of my situation; the pain, fear, anxiety and feeling completely out of control. It was at this very specific moment that I well, demanded that my husband look at me. Directly into my eyes. See, I needed something to focus on, something that was solid, immovable and I knew I could trust. Looking directly into his eyes and focusing on just him allowed me to breathe, calm down and do what I needed to do. Everything was still happening around me, I was just able to stop panicking. 
“You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!”‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭26:3‬ ‭NLT‬‬
That is what Isaiah 26:3 reminds me of. God is telling His people through His prophet that there will be a day of rescue for His people, they need only to stay focused on and trust Him. This was in the midst of persecution and fighting. He didn’t say He was going to change their circumstances immediately but He would grant perfect peace to those who would focus and trust Him. Perfect. Peace. I don’t know about you, but I could certainly use some perfect peace right about now. These are uncertain, anxiety inducing, painful and scary times and while we may feel we have no control, we can trust and keep focused on the One that is immovable, solid and in complete control. May we have perfect peace today. 

As I sit here in the airplane making the first leg of the trip home from Athens, I am contemplating how to answer the question: how was your trip?

Overall, and the very short answer is, good. It has been a “good” trip. That of course means nothing except that nothing tragic or devastating happened in the last eight days. 

Or has it? The truth is, there is a part of me that has been forever wrecked. 

I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I immediately agreed to come on this trip because I have an insatiable wanderlust and the idea of spending a week in Greece seemed impossible to pass up. It was shortly after saying I would go that I had a rather harsh reality check thinking about the fact that I would be working directly with refugees from all over the Middle East, a people group I knew nothing about. I am typically not one to get or be intimidated, the simple yet wise words of my father are ringing in my head, “well, they can’t eat ya” so the fact that I found myself overwhelmingly intimidated by the prospect of working with these people left me well, scared. 

After choking down the enormous lump in my throat, I sat down and began to have an honest heart to heart with my Heavenly Father. I very clearly laid out my case as to why I should retract my agreement and pull out of the trip. “Lord, I know nothing about refugees except what I see and hear on tv and they are scary! I have no money to go especially three weeks before Christmas. You and I both know there is no way my husband will agree to let me go across the ocean with six other women! And finally God, I have nothing to offer them…” My argument stopped there as He very abruptly interrupted me saying, “You have me. Baby girl, this is not about you, this is about me and what I want to do through you. You have put your yes on the table and I’m taking it. I know you’re scared and that’s ok. Trust me.” To that, I quietly bowed my head, took a deep breath and said, “I’m going to Greece”. 

Once I quit whining and let Him do what He does, the miracles started. First, Andy and I had an honest but straight forward discussion about the logistics of this trip. He told me he was not excited about me going but he would never tell me not to go if this is what God had asked me to do. As the time drew closer for me to leave resignation to the reality set in and he has been my strongest prayer support and encourager. 

Second miracle, I received a magazine of sorts in the mail entirely about working specifically with refugees. I later learned it was from the woman who was heading up the trip. It was timely and perfect. As I read two articles a night in preparation, I began to feel my heart softening and the fear dissipating. 

Third miracle, the money. Due to not knowing exactly how many would be going which is what decided how the already donated money would be divided, we were not given a total that we were to come up with for the trip until about two weeks prior. When I prayed about how to raise support I really felt like God was telling me to work for it, not just putting a Go Fund Me account on Facebook and seeing what happened. I don’t think there is anything wrong with a Go Fund Me, I just really felt like He was telling me I needed to put my hands to use for this. Here is where this miracle begins. The gist of it is that I was able to start and finish five pieces of furniture in 48 hours, I then turned around and sold all but one of those pieces, other people helped by making and selling items for me, and random donations just started flowing in. Because I didn’t know how much I would need I decided to put all the money as it came in in an envelope and I would count it as soon as I got a final amount needed. When the email came with the total and I counted the money in my envelope, I was blown away. I had just shy of DOUBLE what I needed! I was so shocked. 

There was no question I had made the right decision to go. 

One big difference between this and other mission trips I have been on is that we had precious little time to prepare. 

Prepare, fret, whatever. 

Anyway, it seemed like I blinked and Thanksgiving was over, Black Friday shopping was finished and I found me and my now five closest friends sitting for what seemed like forever in the Kansas City airport waiting to board our first flight. One team member was flying out of Omaha so we were a bit disjointed in the beginning. 

Aside from a ridiculously quick sprint through the Philadelphia airport to catch our connection to London then on to Athens, the journey from Kansas to Greece was pretty uneventful. 

Our first night was as relaxing as it could be when your internal clock is on the fritz. Hotel Titania, where we stayed was amazing with a breathtaking view of the Parthenon from where we ate every morning and that first evening. 

Sleep reluctantly came in anticipation of what day two may hold. Monday was over. 

Tuesday brought some fresh-ish eyes and eager hearts. Actually, we were all so confused on what day it was and if we were really supposed to be awake or not, we just decided to go with the flow and we would figure it out as we went. We made our way, with the help of Google maps on two different phones telling us to go two different ways, to “The Place”. I’m not sure what I was expecting but it was clean and with what I very naively thought was plenty of room. We met D as we came in along with N, R, C, S, B with her two littles S and O. S, D, S and I joined us later. 

I feel like I need to describe Greek time. Greek time means if an event starts at 10:00, you can count on it actually starting sometime after 10:15 or so. Personally, I find this rather endearing. 

Maybe I have some Greek in my DNA somewhere….

Once everyone was present we started bible study and prayer time. This was their daily practice and they were gracious enough to include us in it every day we were there. They start with prayer including requests from those present. I have to admit I struggled that first morning for a few reasons. First, the intimidation factor was at a peak. I couldn’t understand so much of what was being said partly because it was in a different language but even when they spoke broken English they spoke quite softly. It made me realize just how loud we are in America, generally speaking. And then I found myself so worried I would do something wrong or offensive; speak out of turn, say something stupid out of ignorance, overstep my bounds, etc. So, I sat quietly that first morning letting anyone else from our team do the talking and praying out loud. I may not have prayed out loud but you can bet I was praying! 

Once requests were given they began to pray. I had no idea what languages were being spoken or interpreted into but I very faintly heard English in there somewhere. Thank You Lord for that little gift of familiarity. 

N, a Greek who works at The Place, lead the study in 1 Peter that morning. He spoke with such a bold confidence it came as no surprise he was an university and seminary trained pastor before he accepted the call to work at The Place. 

Once prayer was over the work day began. Mari and I were chosen/asked/volunteered to help with the drinks. I had no idea what we were getting into! R is in charge of the drinks at The Place. This very soft spoken Iranian man greeted and instructed with understandable English and was kind enough to explain the process step by step for us. What he failed to mention was just how many drinks we would be serving and that most of the men would not speak English. “Good luck”, he said with an ornery grin as people began to show up. We served just four items: chai, sheil chai, sheil chai sheling, and sheil cocoa – tea, sweet tea, sweet tea with milk and hot chocolate. I am probably butchering the spelling of the very few Farsi words I know, forgive me we were only there four days. 

This is where God began to wreck me. 

Completely intimidated but determined to show Jesus, I found myself serving, literally serving, the very men I had come to fear and sadly have a prejudge toward. That wasn’t what got me. Where God broke me was in how very gracious these men were toward me. They were polite and kind allowing for my language and waitressing blunders. These men who have so very little gave me so much. 

God used them to free me. 

I did not realize how my ignorance and unwillingness to see past what was being fed to me, not by the Holy Spirit but by the world, had me in chains. Chains of hatred and distrust toward an entire people group based on the actions of a few. I am not naive enough to believe that every man that I served that or the following day were Believers or even had good intentions but despite their upbringing and their own prejudices, they showed this Westerner kindness. 

I don’t really know what happened with the rest of my team that morning as we were super busy serving more than 300 drinks and helping with all of the clean up afterwards. 

We were taken to lunch that day by B and O, S, and D. We walked to a Syrian restaurant that D and S highly recommended. 

We began to get a better understanding of how traffic in Greece works – cars go, motorcycles go faster, people wait. Period. 

Lunch was Souvlaki chicken sandwiches served with pickles, mayo (kind of) and an interesting version of ketchup. I had no idea what I was getting except that it had chicken but I left a big fan of it!

Back to The Place for the afternoon session. 

Laura led a seminar which we thought we were all going to be able to see since some of us missed Sherry’s seminar that morning. However, Sarah and Haley got kiddo duty while Cynthia and I helped with milk and diaper distribution. 

This exhausting day ended with us taking a creative way home to have dinner at an amazing pastry shop. 

How people in Greece don’t weigh a thousand pounds is beyond me!

The next day, Wednesday was as busy as to be expected. Our team started this morning as we did every morning, breakfast at 8:00 in the hotel restaurant with an amazing buffet. Just as I had led our devotional the day before over Psalm 23, this day Sherry led us in a quick study out of Hebrews 2. After breakfast we had yet another creative trek to The Place. I am very grateful that Cynthia and Sarah are good navigators with a keen sense of direction! At The Place we again started our day with prayer and bible study. Again, prayer time was in translation but we were asked if one of us would like to lead the Bible study. Mari, whom we now lovingly refer to as Mama Mari, quickly voluntold Sherry that she would be leading bible study. Sherry graciously shared with this group the same lesson she had shared with us about an hour earlier. 

While I was intimidated and apprehensive about serving drinks the first day, I was more prepared and excited by Wednesday. Amped up and ready for the swarm of men and boys who would come to The Place to warm up on this cold and rainy day in Athens, I was admittedly a little disappointed when the numbers were down, way down. R didn’t know why attendance was so low but he took it all in stride and was willing to share what was left with those in need or want. 

I don’t know this man at all but I began to see something in his character that was unexpected. He has a gentleness about him that I was surprised by. The way he spoke to the other men was respectful and calm. As I watched the interactions between all of these men from all of these different cultures and countries, many of which ‘back home’ are warring with each other, I noticed that this quiet, gentle nature exuding from an Iranian believer that always wears a smile caused a ripple effect. Some of the men would come in and appear to be stressed out, anxious or maybe just mad about it. It was those men that R would seek out, put a hand on their shoulder and quietly speak to. Very often the quick conversation would end up in both men smiling as they waited for this confused American to figure out the drink order. 

What God showed me in this is that this really had very little to do with R, his rejection of his past, or his willingness to serve but it has everything to do with the Holy Spirit at work in him. R has fallen desperately in love with Jesus and found a love and acceptance in his new family of which we all share the same Father, that flow from him to others wether they have accepted Christ or not. I’m sad that I found this surprising but so grateful God has opened my eyes to my bigger family in Him. 

I know there was supposed to be a sewing class upstairs with the ladies but from what I understand no learning was needed as the ladies knew what they were doing as they altered each other’s clothing. 

Lunch found us eating Syrian food again but this time with S and A. These girls are truly adorable. Laura refers to S as “fun size” because she is just a little bitty thing. S loves this title and certainly played up their size difference. A is much more reserved in her interactions but still loving. I believe this has more to do with the fact she spoke very little English and only knowing four Farsi words, I was very little help. Especially since she and S spoke Kurdish. It’s my understanding these languages are similar but not the same. What struck me about S and A is just how much alike we really are. These ladies love to laugh and be silly, just like we do. They love fashion and feeling lovely, just like we do. And they love, love, love to take selfies, just like we do. I find it both embarrassing and funny just how many selfies with these and the other ladies I have on my phone! This showed me that girls don’t have to speak the same language to just be girls. Lunch was incredible. We had the privilege of meeting the owner and of course, took a selfie with him.

Coming back from lunch we were told there was going to be a meeting with others in the Greek church. To be completely honest, I really have no idea what this was about. It seemed nothing was really happening except little pockets of people chatting about things I didn’t know in languages I couldn’t understand. I took the opportunity to meet a woman who seemed to be just sitting looking around. To my surprise she spoke perfect English. Her name was Magda, “like Mary Magdalene in the Bible” she explained. She was born and raised in Athens, educated and met her fiancé in London but had felt God calling her back to Athens to work with the church there. Such a sweet young lady with a sparkling sense of humor. She is the one who helped me understand Greek time when the meeting hadn’t started an hour after it was supposed to. Apparently there had been some miscommunication with those who were attending the meeting and it ended in the whole group doing a bible study. This is where the translating everything into English every meeting began to wain. 

Once the meeting/study concluded we as a team along with D set out to shop for Christmas presents for the children. While I never understood what the meaning of the meeting was, it made me grateful to know that all ministries are imperfect. We all have moments of miscommunication and disorganization and that it’s okay to give myself and my team back home a break when things don’t go ‘just right’. God doesn’t freak out, neither should I. 

Leaving The Place we headed to an amazingly, fabulous yet crazy overcrowded with people and stuff store called Jumbo. I should mention that taking the metro (bus) was quite an experience and should only be done with someone who reads Greek and understands the people! 

There are few things more fun than spending money you did not earn on a slew of children you do not know. That was our evening. I can’t remember the exact number of gifts we bought but it was so exciting to be a part of God providing for these families like only He can! 

Speaking of children, this was a huge lesson. More of a reality check maybe. I believe strongly in discipline, especially when your children are young. It would seems this is not the case for these ladies because when they showed up at The Place it was almost like they forgot they even had kiddos. However, after a group discussion with our team, I don’t necessarily believe this. Mari reminded us that these women and children have most assuredly been through more trauma than we could ever possibly understand and for many of them it hadn’t been that long ago. Because this was a fact in their lives the least we could do is show grace as they are acclimating to a new country in a culture with languages they may or may not understand, many of them may be homeless or at least be concerned from where they will get their next meal. These women may appear to be “carefree” but many carry a burden we pray we will never fully understand. Maybe discipline and demanding their children always behave as we would expect them to or as we would allow our children to is simply not the priority at this point in their lives. Sherry contended that discipline can happen regardless of your living situation. I believe both are true. I walk away being thankful that these ladies and their children have a safe and loving place to come, no matter how crazy their kids can act. 

Ending this day with eating dinner at an outside pizzeria seemed very Greek-like and we informally adopted this little corner as “ours”.

Thursday morning breakfast devotional was lead by Laura out of Hebrews 1. She was also asked to lead bible study at The Place after prayer. Prayer was different this morning as everyone prayed in their own language. I found myself listening more than praying and praising our Heavenly Father for how completely beautiful this moment was. How this must make His heart happy to hear His children talking to Him together in the tongue He gave them. Breathtaking. 

That quiet, peaceful moment was the last one we had at The Place that day because once the ladies began showing up the Day of Beauty began. These already beautiful women were given the opportunity to participate in any or every service being offered, or none of them. There was threading, fingernail painting, facials, henna and dancing. 

Oh the dancing. 

I had asked God to give me a carefree spirit and the ability to just be myself and have a great time not being intimidated as this was really the first time I had one on one interaction with them. He heard and answered that prayer. Apparently D really, really likes dancing and has an incredible way of encouraging women who would otherwise maybe just sit and do nothing or stay very much to themselves, breakout of their shells and bust out the moves! I loved this! I was and am so humbled that these ladies not only let me watch but invited me in to be a part of something that is obviously so important to them and their culture. I laughed until my sides hurt, or maybe that was from all the hip action happening, but I ended the morning a hot, sweaty mess so full of joy. I attribute my high energy to the coffee D had made me and Laura before everyone showed up. This drink we now refer to as “the sludge” was Arabic coffee with cardamom as D explained it. All I know is that it was absolutely the strongest coffee I have ever had and I most certainly chewed the last drink! It tasted horrific but it certainly gave me energy. I think I’ll stick to my weak double espresso, thank you. 

That was our first day of real shopping in Greece. I think we I logged more than 20,000 steps that night and we saw what felt like a large part of the city. We walked to a restaurant D recommended called Saavas. The food was so flavorful and delicious. We ate until stuffed then shopped until we were about to drop. We hit the tired point so we headed back to the hotel only to be stopped by a demonstration that went down the street we were trying to go as that was where our hotel was. It was startling how many people participated in the march. They held signs we could not read and shouted chants we could not understand. It was frighteningly loud but yet peaceful. We learned later it was a yearly event held as a reminder of an incident that happened 11 years ago where a policeman shot and killed a 14 year old boy. The only thing we could really understand were the signs for anarchy that had been thrown all over the ground. I was shocked and impressed with just how peaceful it was considering it was massive. 

Sleep came easy that night even if it didn’t last long. 

Four o’clock the next morning my day started wether I wanted it to or not. I spent much of the next two hours praying, scrolling through my phone and trying to wrap my head around the fact that this would be our last day at The Place. At this point I began to take stock of this mission trip and try to figure out why it has been so radically different from any other I have been a part of. Normally I am an emotional wreck when the final day approaches. I tend to dive in head and heart first allowing my emotions and thoughts drive the work. This week has been different only in that going in to it I knew I had real boundaries and I prayed specifically that God would guide my interactions with a people and a culture I knew so very little about. After a discussion with my roommate Laura that morning, it began to become clear that while we have been here to love on and literally show love to these ladies, much of what I know God was also asking us specifically to do was encourage and build up those who do that every single day. D, Z, N, C, S, S, D, S, B and eventually A, these are the ones my heart aches for and goes out to. The job they are doing is so big and so viably important. They need the hands and feet of the living God to come and walk with them in very practical and generous ways. I am thankful to not be an emotional mess as I leave but confident that He who has began a good work will carry it through to completion. I just got to be a tiny little part of that. Thank You Lord. 

As the rest of the team greeted Friday, Sarah lead us in bible study that lead us each to explain why we were there, what brought us to Greece. It was so encouraging and interesting to see how God nudged and we moved, each for different reasons but all with the same result. 

I lead the same bible study out of Psalm 23 that I had done with our group earlier in the week. It was interesting to hear the different interpretations of ‘rest’ that were discussed. Work is work for every culture but rest can look very different. I appreciated Z’s take on rest for a people who at the moment at least or maybe ever, don’t have the opportunity to go on a cruise or a vacation get away, rest comes in the Lord. And that is available to all the world, all the time. I love that. 

We received our marching orders for the day and I found myself downstairs getting the gifts together with Mari, Sarah and C. This was so fun. Anticipating the joy and fun the kids would have at the Christmas party later that day made my heart sing, and my mouth as it turned out. Mari started singing Jingle Bells and before long we were all singing along, including C. In fact, I think he enjoyed it most. 

Not too long into it R came down asking if someone could help Sherry with drinks as all the ones who had missed the day before were certainly there that morning. Again I found myself in service to these men who now seemed a little more comfortable with us and joked with us, at least I think they were. At any rate they were polite and there was a sense of levity in The Place. 

Once everyone was gone decorating began. We were all busy little bees transforming The Place from a spotless somewhat sterile environment to a Christmas wonderland. Well, that may be a stretch but it looked so festive and all the volunteers came wearing red because we had told them we as a team were all wearing matching red shirts, which we left with them afterwards. What a fun a joyous time. As the ladies began to slowly show up it became apparent that many would not make it because of another day of demonstrations. So we did what all good Middle Eastern parties should, we danced as we waited. Again my heart almost burst watching them literally shake off their cares if only for a moment. This is where I met S and her beautiful daughter J. She let me hold J. J was clearly not impressed but was content to let me hold her. This gave me an opportunity to chit chat with S as much as broken English and precious little Arabic can chit or chat. Both Haley and I were given the opportunity to share our favorite Christmas memory or story. I was so proud of her. She was nervous but spoke respectfully  and lovingly to this group of women all of whom were her senior. 

The ladies were given wire and beads to make their own Christmas ornament. It was so sweet to see these full grown women revert back to little girls doing crafts and finding such joy when their projects were applauded regardless of how they looked. So beautiful. So very many selfies. It was humbling to be a part of something so much bigger than just a Christmas party. This was a reprieve, a break, a chance to symbolically let their hair down and relax. Then the children joined us with their gifts in hand. You don’t have to know the words they were saying to know they were excited! Another ministry brought food and drinks that disappeared rather quickly. Once the food was gone the party pretty much ended. Hugs were given and more selfies were taken with our new friends. Then came clean up. It went pretty fast since the volunteers have grown accustom to everyone helping and working efficiently. 

What did not go quickly was saying good bye to the ones we had bonded with over the week. Hug after hug, picture after picture and eventually everyone walked their separate ways. One particular heart that I won’t soon forget is B. She is a tireless mom who has a zeal and love for the Lord that just radiates from her. She jumps in and helps or takes over when and wherever needed. My prayer partner Bev had asked me to look for someone that she could connect with through prayer. Even if they never meet this side of heaven she would like to pray specifically for a sister in Christ and for me to let this woman know Bev finds it a privilege to pray for her. The woman I chose was B.  Because God is super sweet and sees so much more than we do, I will be able to give Bev the matching bracelet to the one I gave B as a reminder of this connection they will have through prayer. This makes my heart happy. B cannot accept a gift without giving a gift so she made Bev a pair of earrings the next morning when the ladies made friendship bracelets and earrings. 

So as we solemnly walked directly back to our hotel, we finally became non-GPS dependent and confidently found our way home, we all spoke very little as the realization that our formal “work” in Greece was finished. We had to eat at the hotel due to more demonstrations. I finished Friday…humbled. 

Saturday was the day I was most excited about prior to coming. This is the day we were supposed to tour ancient Corinth and the Parthenon. In true missionary fashion, things didn’t work out quite as planned as our biblical tour guide finished walking us through the ruins and remains of Corinth and dropped us off at the hotel. Frankly, I was ok with that as my brain was on full tilt after all the information she, Vulla and her husband Socrates (pronounced So•crat•eez) poured out on us. I was kind of reeling from the realization of where we had been and the practical application these very important places had in scripture. Amazing. 

We still had time to shop some but kept it pretty short as some of us may have run out of room in our bags going home. This allowed us to walk our way to the Acropolis once again depending on Sarah and Cynthia’s innate sense of direction and our schizophrenic GPS. 

This may have been my favorite part as we were able to not just see but stand on Mars Hill where I read Paul’s message from Acts 17. Humbled, broken and thankful are the only words I can think of when I think about standing there and the impact that message, God’s message through the Apostle Paul has had on eternity. 

God also began to shine a light on me and my past. As a fine arts major I had learned and studied so much about this specific part of the world with such passion. I wanted nothing more as a teenager and young adult than to come and see these amazing ruins for myself, place my hands on the rocks that were hewn and stacked so long ago to make a temple worthy of an earthly god. But now I find so little importance in these mere shrines. No, now standing on Mars Hill, walking where Paul walked, remembering his strength, humility and love, recounting his unquenchable passion for his Savior and the powerful love He had given him for the lost, that is what stops me in my tracks now. That is what brings me to my knees in worship of a God that would allow me to be a part of the same heritage. The world can have these majestic ruins, I’ll take the humble cobble stone roads where the greatest message about the greatest Gift ever given was spread. 

There is so, so much more to this day but I could never have enough words or space or time to write them. I only pray I never forget the lessons He taught me and the historical importance of all we saw. 

And that brings us back to this plane. Well, actually it’s now a different plane, a different time zone and now a different country. We are almost to Chicago where if the Lord wills it we will be able to catch our connecting flight to Kansas City and go our separate ways to our final destination, home. 

Looking back, I guess my trip really was, “good”. 

*some names have been shortened and locations changed for protection of those involved 

So, ya wanna hear a story? It’s a miracle story.
Here goes…
July 28, 2019 was a crazy busy day. Andy and I were at both church services, he because he’s the preacher and they tend to frown when he’s not there and I because it was my turn to serve on the prayer team that weekend. We knew the schedule would be tight as we had to be in Glen Rose, Texas, set up and ready for camp to start by 7:00 that night. Once the last service finished we ran out of the church, jumped in Lisa’s van so she could take Andy, Matt and myself to the airport. We made it to the airport in just enough time to snag a bite to eat before boarding our flight which was shockingly on time.
The one hour flight went too quickly as there was not enough time to get an adequate nap to prepare for the rest of the day. Ready or not, we landed, grabbed our carryons and rushed out into the Texas heat to find our ride to camp.
Angela, her husband and grandson picked us up in an SUV with cranked up AC while we took turns chatting and napping during the 90 minute drive to the campground.
Things went pretty fast once we got to camp. Andy jumped out, grabbed his things and headed to the sound booth getting things ready for the message he would be bringing in a few short moments. Matt grabbed his stuff and went straight to work on the stage getting the music and band ready for worship. I began unpacking the boxes of product and miscellaneous items the boys had brought down the day before. We each had our job to do and wasted no time getting to them.
Finally, the time came for us to gather as a team and pray over the service, campers and the upcoming week of ministry. As we circled up getting ready to hold hands, I looked down and saw that the diamond was missing from my wedding set!
July 28, two days before our 25th wedding anniversary!
Out of sheer shock, I gasped and showed Andy. Instinctively everyone broke apart and started looking around where we were standing. The question that obviously has no answer was asked, “Do you know where it may have fallen out?”
What?
If I knew that I would have gone there before telling anyone it was missing!
I was devastated.
We’ve been in ministry a long time. In that time I’ve learned that the enemy will do whatever he can to steal any joy, kill any hope and destroy any possibility of God working if he can. Keeping this in mind, I said a quick, quiet prayer and insisted we join hands and continue in prayer with our original intent. I voiced this prayer then and repeatedly the whole week, “Father, I know You know where my diamond is. May I please have it back?”
Both before and after the service we swept the floor with precious little hope. A small rhinestone was found, but sadly, that was all the searching yielded.
I continued walking around the campground with my head down in hopes of maybe stumbling upon it all week, but to no avail.
Andy and I had reconciled ourselves to the fact we would need to recycle a stone out of another ring or buy a diamond to replace it. He asked if I just wanted a whole new ring since #25 seemed like a good time to change if I wanted to. I did not. You see, I loved that ring, just like it was. Andy and his mom designed that ring based on what he heard me say that I liked. Bonni had been extremely generous to donate that diamond, the one that Andy’s dad has given her on their wedding day. It was precious to me, all of it. I wanted my ring back, all of it.
So my quiet prayer continued.
Friday came and camp was over. Andy and the boys and I made the seemingly never-ending drive home and life began as normal again with the exception of me wearing a silicone band as a wedding ring until we could figure out what to do.
The silicone band was a far cry from my wedding ring, although it was quite fancy since it glowed in the dark and all. I tried wearing some of the other beautiful rings Andy had given me over the last 25 years as a replacement for my set. They all paled in comparison in my eyes. None of them felt “right.”
Tuesday morning I decided to run by Andy’s office for a minute just to see how his day was going. When I walked in, I was surprised to see one of the bigger boxes we had taken to camp completely dumped out all over his floor. I immediately knew he had been looking for my ring. He confirmed my suspicion, but had come up ended handed except for the gecko that had apparently hitched a ride to Kansas in our box! He got a good fright and a chuckle, but no ring. I tried to reassure him that it would be ok. We were still married and God had it figured out. I really didn’t want him to feel bad over it even though my heart was broken. Once again I reminded him that God knew where it was and if He wanted me to have it we would find it. The words came out of my mouth, but the truth was I wasn’t terribly confident.
We started the task of putting everything back in the box again when I looked down and saw something small with a shine to it right next to Andy’s heel.
IT WAS MY DIAMOND!!!
I instantly checked my earrings to make sure none of them had broken and fallen out. Nope. It was my diamond!
We both burst into laughter and I couldn’t help but cry happy tears! Now, I don’t know what your definition of a miracle is, but as far as I’m concerned, this is a miracle.
After saying, “I can’t believe it!” about 1,000 times we both began to realize we had no reason to doubt. Why wouldn’t we believe it? The God of the universe had been generous in giving us that ring 25 years prior. He knew exactly where it was the whole time and He in His generosity simply gave it back.
See, that’s the God we serve. I’m not saying He is like a genie in a bottle and that you need only to ask and it will appear. I’m saying He loves us as a Father loves His children and when we ask for that which is in His will, He graciously gives.
He didn’t have to give that diamond back. Andy and I would have still been married and in love. God would have still been abundantly gracious, generous, kind, loving and perfect. I don’t pretend to know why He allowed it to be lost or found, but I can tell you this, it has reminded me in a very real way that the God I serve is bigger than anything the enemy may throw at me, and I can trust Him! I look at this ring and my heart beats not just for the handsome fella that put it on my finger 25 years ago but for the One that reassures me daily that I am His and He watches over, protects and loves me completely.
Oh, how I hope you know that kind of love. I hope you read this very true story and know that the same God that loves me, loves you.

“Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Won’t she light a lamp and sweep the entire house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she will call in her friends and neighbors and say, ‘Rejoice with me because I have found my lost coin.’ In the same way, there is joy in the presence of God’s angels when even one sinner repents.”
‭‭Luke‬ ‭15:8-10‬ ‭NLT‬‬
https://www.bible.com/bible/116/luk.15.8-10.nlt

I don’t know about you but I sometimes find myself feeling super anxious with our current political climate. It seems there is so much hate and distrust and unwillingness to forgive. Pointing fingers and blaming others for whatever is happening that we don’t like seems to be the anthem for our day and frankly, it is terrifying.
As I was doing my bible study this morning I read Psalm 11 and was greeted with a breath of hope:

1 “I trust in the Lord for protection. So why do you say to me, “Fly like a bird to the mountains for safety! 2 The wicked are stringing their bows and fitting their arrows on the bowstrings. They shoot from the shadows at those whose hearts are right. 3 The foundations of law and order have collapsed. What can the righteous do?” 4 But the Lord is in his holy Temple; the Lord still rules from heaven. He watches everyone closely, examining every person on earth. 5 The Lord examines both the righteous and the wicked. He hates those who love violence. 6 He will rain down blazing coals and burning sulfur on the wicked, punishing them with scorching winds. 7 For the righteous Lord loves justice. The virtuous will see his face.”
‭‭(Psalm 11:1-7‬)

When I read verses 1-3, my thought was, “That could have been written this morning”! Then I read verse four. Praise God for verse four! “BUT the Lord is in His holy Temple; the Lord STILL rules from heaven. He watches everyone closely, examining every person on earth.”(emphasis mine). These words gave me pause for two reasons: 1) I have to step back, calm down, and realize God is GOD no matter what. Period. Neither time nor people can change that. And 2) I need to remember that He is watching ME as well as all of those I think are wrong because the writer goes on to say that the Lord examines both the righteous and the wicked.

Now, after 48 years of life on this planet it has become blatantly obvious to me that “no one is righteous, no, not one” (Romans 3:10) and that includes me. But before I could plummet into fear and despair over this fact, I was gently and immediately reminded that “Christ is the culmination of the law so that there may be righteousness for everyone who believes.”
‭‭(Romans‬ ‭10:4‬)

That means that while I am far from perfect, God sees me as righteous because of Jesus and my faith in Him.

Imagine my relief!

This was all very comforting to me as I ended my time this morning with a simple but not easy prayer, “Lord, shut my mouth and open my heart to Your understanding.” I don’t need to argue, fuss or fight. God is on His throne and He still rules from heaven. He knows best and I don’t. He wants me to love Him more than my own ways or opinions and let Him lead.
He’ll take care of the rest.

I am FREE
Freedom. This is a recurring theme in my life. I have been held hostage by guilt and held by my own bondage of shame for so long in my life, it can be overwhelming to think about sometimes. What a beautiful truth that I can be and indeed am, free. I am free to worship Him through obedience.
I am free to walk, skip, and even run alongside the Creator because it is not about me.
I am free to obey because if it is good and right He put it in me.

I am free to repent because He gives me grace.

I am free to be bold because He put His confidence in me.
I am free to read His Word because He gives me understanding.
I am free to love others because He loves me completely.
I am free to live in joy because He has loosed my chains.
I am free to run to my Abba because He draws me to Himself.
I am free to stand because He gives me His armor. 

I am free to follow because He leads me. 
I am free to tell others about Him because He has given me a testimony.
I am free to forgive because He has shown me mercy.
I am free to help others because He has given me compassion.
I am free to praise Him because He has given me His peace.
I am free to be His because He died for me.

My freedom is truly not about me. It is a result of pure, real Love that comes with the expectation of accepting it. Living in it. Growing in it. Telling others about it. 

Thank You Father for knowing me and loving me anyway. Thank You for putting a desire in me to love You, obey You, worship You. You know I am incapable of even wanting to do any of that without You. May I be putty in Your hands and make You smile as I go where You lead. 

So this is me…
Well, kinda.
I am just shy of 48 years old and some days I can really feel it. My lashes may be ‘enhanced’ and I haven’t seen my real hair color in at least a decade, but this is the me you see.
Several years ago the Lord very strongly convicted me about hiding the real me. He knew that I wanted desperately for people to see only the side of me that I chose instead of who I really was. For me, that revealing began with Him telling me to stop wearing makeup. Of course He asked me to do this just as I was preparing to speak to 400 teenage girls! For the Queen of Testosterone Island, there are few more terrifying places to be than standing in front of that much hormonally charged estrogen! Out of horrified obedience, I did it. I spoke without a drop of makeup. I felt very raw, bare, vulnerable and yet, free.
I am in no way saying wearing makeup is wrong or that others should stop. I am saying that this was a very strong instruction to me personally from the Lord. It had so much less to do with makeup specifically and so much more to do with my obedience and willingness to do what He asked. I had been hiding and this was my first step to being real. Really real.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been in that spot but to be confronted by the One that knows you completely is very humbling. There was no hiding despite my best efforts.
This examination required me to ask myself this question: Who am I trying to impress?
If the answer was my husband, my makeup wouldn’t matter. From the beginning of our relationship he has always said he thought I was pretty with or without it. Admittedly I haven’t always believed him because of how I feel about myself at times. However, I put him to the test with this when I showed up for our first date with zero makeup on. I also wore only mascara for our wedding. He has never wavered in his opinion so the make up wasn’t for him.
If the answer was for my God well, He had already given His opinion:

“And I want women to be modest in their appearance. They should wear decent and appropriate clothing and not draw attention to themselves by the way they fix their hair or by wearing gold or pearls or expensive clothes. For women who claim to be devoted to God should make themselves attractive by the good things they do.”
‭‭1 Timothy‬ ‭2:9-10‬ ‭NLT (emphasis mine)
So the only logical answer to the question of who was I trying to impress was…the world.
Futile.
This was a tough realization for a girl who had always claimed to not care what other people thought of her. I did care. A lot. Too much.
This was what God was trying to show me. I was hiding because I cared more about what the world thought of me than what He thought of me. He made me beautiful in His eyes and asks me to live like it. He blinded my husband in such a way that he sees ME and loves me anyway. Truly, what more could a girl want?
My hope is that we as God’s little girls (women who not only believe in Jesus, but desire to follow Him) will let Him open our eyes to what He sees in us…the beauty of Jesus. That by the “good things we do” with a heart that runs after His, we will show the world how beautiful we really are. May we accept the love He graciously lavishes on us as His children.
Be real, be free because He loves you perfectly my Sister…with or without make up.

The coolest thing happened today.

Have you ever read a verse and just knew what God was going to nail you with regarding the passage, making you not want to do the quiet time at all? That was precisely my attitude this morning as I started my quiet time.

Sadly, I admit that I struggle with anger. I am the quickest draw in the west when it comes to pulling a “mad on.” Hear me when I say I am in no way bragging about this. It has gotten me in more trouble and damaged more relationships than I care to recall as well as being a “lesson point” from my heavenly Father since I accepted Christ 28 years ago.

Not good.

So this morning when I opened my Count It All Joy devotional (https://squareup.com/market/
addimedia/item/count-it-all-joy) and saw that James 1:19-21 was the scripture, I immediately groaned. My first thought was to find something else to do, but since Andy was doing his quiet time on the other side of the porch, he would know that I bailed. So, I braced myself for the spiritual booty kicking confident I knew what He was going to say to me.

As I have tried to get into the habit of doing, I asked God to show me what He had for me in these verses, again believing that I already knew the answer, and began reading.

“Understand this, my dear brothers and sister: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry. Human anger does not produce the righteousness God desires. So get rid of all the filth and evil in your lives, and humbly accept the word God has planted in your hearts, for it has the power to save your souls.” James 1:19-21

Of course, this is not the first time I have read these verses. When you have a ‘character flaw’ such as a quick temper as I do, God has this way of leading you back to specific verses, not just for you to recognize the need in your life for a change, but to help you achieve it.

I think this morning I more quoted the verses in my head instead of reading them. Then, I “read” them again; honestly read them.

I read the command, “Be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”
My thought: Yeah, I get that. This is the same thing He has been telling me forever.

But then I read the HOW: “So get rid of all the filth and evil in your lives, and humbly accept the word God has planted in your hearts, for it has the power to save your souls.”

My thought: Whoa! When did they put THAT in there?!?

This was what I wrote in my devotional:
SUMMARIZE – Don’t just zip it when I get mad, listen and calm down. Hear what God is telling me at the moment and let Him guide my attitude.
EXPOSE – This is not just about not getting mad, that is a knee-jerk reaction that CAN be slowed, but it’s also about listening to Him, and what I know He is saying, not arguing my point with Him, just letting Him speak to me louder than my emotion!
CHANGE – I need to grow up and recognize my emotions and put them in their place, for they are fickle and cannot be trusted. If I give Him a little space in the midst of it, He will show me what is right and help me swallow it.
PREPARE – This will make my heart so much happier, allow my joy to show, and help me not to be so negative. I don’t have the right to fly off the handle.

(For more info on Summarize, Expose, Change, Prepare see www.readingitright.com)

I found this to be such a sweet lesson, not just about controlling my anger, but about how much God loves me. He KNOWS me, and He knows my heart. He knows that I need Him to help me do what He is asking and He very gently showed me this morning that He has given me what I need. Because I have treasured His word in my heart (Psalm 119:11) He will help me remember it in the midst of frustration or confrontation, thus helping me see the situation for what it is. I can trust Him, even when I’m mad, to diffuse me. This is what it means to humbly accept the word He has planted in my heart.

So the spiritual booty kicking that I was expecting turned out to be a gentle reminder that He knows me (us) loves me (us) and will help me (us) do what He has asked me (us) to do.

I am a mom. Being a mom makes you inherently busy. It’s just the nature of the job. When my boys were little I, like all moms of littles, was crazy, catching myself coming and going, busy. Now that my boys are far from little and seem to be pretty self sustaining, I find myself busy for other reasons.

I like to be busy. It helps me to avoid doing/seeing/hearing things I must otherwise face. I’ve never really thought much about this avoidance tactic until recently.

I have walked with Jesus as my personal Lord and Savor for a long time and I have been in ministry for nearly 22 years. I am and always have been actively involved in my church and take those responsibilities very seriously. There have been times in my walk that I have felt spiritually dry, anxious, weak and disheartened. As of now, I am all of those things along with confused, disappointed and frustrated, yet I know I am loved.  I have always thought that when I am struggling with my faith, if I just DO more, it will help. If I busy myself in Bible study, service, prayer, etc it would all just pan out. I have tried this and it is not working. Try as I may, something is still just “off”.

After a long, teary conversation with my pastor (who doubles as my Sweetness) over our morning coffee, he helped me to see that my “doing” may not be what God is wanting from/for me at all. This is very counter intuitive to me. He introduced me to the concept of the “Dark Night of the Soul”. To be honest, I’m still not exactly clear on what it means and I intend on making a study of it, but per his definition, this may be just what is happening. Not so coincidentally, in God’s perfect timing, I had a very dear friend send me the article the next day that I have attached below.

The next paragraph is an excerpt from my response to her.

“I know this is not the first time I have experienced this feeling, situation, challenge, whatever name you want to put on it, it is the first time it has been labeled so correctly. I am both scared and oddly optimistic about it. Having been through the spiritual wringer before, I know this will not end without much time on my knees and countless tears shed. The difference this time is that I recognize early in if you will, that I cannot do this alone. I see my need to be in the spiritual infirmary. I must be taken off the front lines for a bit and I implore my fellow soldiers to fight both ahead and around me. This is not a time for me to cower and pout but allow my Abba to do as He will in me. I confess I am not good at just being still. Even if my “doing” is clearly futile, it seems better than the guilt of not doing. There in lies my dilemma.”

I wonder if anyone else has ever felt this way? That all this running up the muddy hill of our spiritual journey seems to get us nowhere when maybe all God is asking of us is to just be still.

Psalm 46:10 says in part, “Be still, and know that I am God;…” I always considered this one of the easier commands. Not so much, it seems.

I want to share this article with you. I know nothing about the author or the book he is promoting. I just know this article was very helpful for me and it may be for others who find it hard not to “do” when walking through this dark night:

When God Seems Silent

Because the soul is the deepest expression of the person, the soul is the place of greatest pain. We do not speak of the dark night of the mind, or the will, or even the spirit. Only the soul. The dark night of the soul.

The phrase comes from a brilliant Carmelite monk named John who lived in Spain in the sixteenth century. He devoted his life to reforming the church, but his attempts were heavily criticized, and he ended up in prison. It was there in confinement, with his dreams lost, that he wrote his most famous work: The Dark Night of the Soul. It is an account of how God works to change us not just through joy and light, but through confusion, through disappointment, through loss. Because of his commitment in the midst of suffering, he became known as “St. John of the Cross.”

The dark night of the soul, as he described it, is not simply the experience of suffering. It is suffering in what feels like the silence of God.

This saint who bore the name of the cross of Jesus said that in the early days of spiritual life, the soul often finds delight in devotional activities: We love to read the Bible, we hunger for worship, we long to pray. We may think this is a sign of our maturity; it is really more a kind of honeymoon phase.

“But there will come a time when God will bid them to grow deeper. He will remove the previous consolation of the soul in order to teach it virtue…” In the dark night, my prayers feel like they reach no higher than the ceiling. (Although, Dallas {Willard} often said, if we truly understand how radically present God is in our world, reaching the ceiling is more than high enough.) In the dark night, the Bible I read turns to ashes. In the dark night, words and books and songs that once spoke to my soul now leave me cold.

It is important to understand that the dark night, as John writes about it, is not the soul’s fault. of course, it’s possible for me to grow cold toward God because I cling to sin, or prefer an idol, or simply become lazy. These are all real occurrences that require wise response. But they are not the dark night.

The dark night is God-initiated.

There’s an old illustration that was used to teach uninterrupted intimacy with God as the norm for successful spiritual life. It never failed to add guilt to spiritual dryness. It is a picture of intimacy with God that’s as old as bench seats in the front of cars. A husband and wife are driving together. She says to him: “When we were dating, we used to sit next to each other while we drove; you would have your arm around me, I would lay my head on your shoulder, and I felt so loved. Now look at the distance between us.” And the husband replies: “Who moved?”

In the dark night of the soul, it is God who moved.

God may still be in the car. But He’s scrunched up small and pressing hard against the passenger door. I stretch my arm but I can’t reach him or feel Him or touch Him. My soul has not changed seats. God moved.

Waiting in the Dark

The practices that once fed my soul feed it no more. John of the Cross, writing from his prison cell, says in the dark night the soul is pained but not hopeless. “God’s love is not content to leave us in our weakness, and for this reason He takes us into a dark night. He weans us from all of the pleasures by giving us dry times and inward darkness…. No soul will ever grow deep in the spiritual life unless God works passively in that soul by means of the dark night.” We have a hard time with the dark night. Our churches are practical places, and we generally tell people the answer to any spiritual problem is more: more prayer, more serving, more giving, more trying.

But John says just the opposite. When the soul begins to enjoy the benefits of the spiritual life and then has them taken away, it becomes embittered and angry. There are some who become angry at themselves at this point, thinking that their loss of joy is a result of something they have done or have neglected to do. They will fuss and fret and do all they can to recover this consolation. They will strive to become saints in a day. They will make all kinds of resolutions to be more spiritual, but the greater the resolution, the greater the fall.

Their problem is that they lack the patience that waits for whatever God would give them and when God chooses to give. They must learn spiritual meekness, which will come about in the dark night.

What do we do in the dark night?

We do nothing. We wait. We remember that we are not God. We hold on. We ask for help. We do less. We resign from things, we rest more, we stop going to church, we ask somebody else to pray because we can’t. We let go of our need to hurry through it.

You can’t run in the dark.

We love psalms about restoring our souls. They are sometimes called psalms of orientation — psalms that help us direct our lives to God. But there are other psalms. After we learned of Dallas’s diagnosis, my wife delivered a message based on what Walter Brueggemann calls “psalms of disorientation.” These are the psalms where the soul is disoriented; God is absent; darkness is winning. “Break the teeth in their mouths, o God… Let them vanish like water that flows away… like a slug that melts away as it moves along, like a stillborn child that never sees the sun.” That’s one that doesn’t get used at a lot of prayer breakfasts. Eugene Peterson once wrote that before we can love our enemies, we have to pray our hatred. In these psalms — which are more frequent than the psalms of orientation — Israel vented and boiled over at God, apparently believing He was secure enough to be able to take it.

Nancy talked about an unmarried friend who once punctured the polite piety of a small group Bible study that was having an abstract discussion about “Where is God when it hurts?” With the honesty rarely seen in Bible study groups, she declared, “If Jesus thinks that three hours on a cross makes up for forty-two years of singleness, I think that’s crazy.”

Cool!

Nancy waited for the group to get swallowed up in a sinkhole. Eventually someone chirped in with a Christian cliché, and the moment passed. But there was more honest faith in that one real comment than all the safe platitudes that came before and after it.

In my own darkest time some years ago, my greatest disappointment was deep and unfixable. I questioned my calling. I didn’t think about suicide, but I definitely thought that if my life were over, I’d be grateful for the end of pain. I would talk to a few close friends, and they would generally give sympathy and support, for which I was grateful.

But then I did what I have so often done when I cannot think or pray or reason my way out of something. I called Dallas. I walked him through the circumstances and the heartbreak and the pain, eager for his answer.

Long pause. “This will be a test of your joyful confidence in God.” Silence. I did not miss the challenge in this sentence, all the more goading for its gentle phrasing. Not just my confidence — my joyful confidence. Human beings around the globe had been suffering a year ago, and I was capable of joy then. Why should I consider my own suffering grounds for a crisis of confidence in God when I don’t react the same way to others?

If there is a God who is worthy to be the Father of Jesus, I can trust giving this situation as well as my own feelings joyfully into His hands. If there is not, I have infinitely bigger problems than a merely human circumstance. Either way it is true: this will be a test of my joyful confidence in God.

Excerpted from Soul Keeping by John Ortberg, copyright John Ortberg. Published by Zondervan.

Ah, its’ election year again. 
This time of year brings so many things to the surface. Sadly, not all good things either.
I get so frustrated watching the news with what seems to be obvious bias for one candidate or party and the seemingly blatant disregard for impartiality. I get discouraged over the way people treat each other on the campaign trail and say whatever seems to be the most impactful at the time. I tire of listening to promises being made that seem outlandish and only for the moment. I confess that it is quite frightening to me to think that our future is in the hands of people who seem to have lost their grip on reality and have no idea what it’s really like to live in the “Land of the free and home of the brave”! It can overwhelm me to think that someone who doesn’t put gas in their own vehicles can impact my ability to put gas in mine; that someone who hasn’t had to pay for insurance can dictate how much I pay for mine. Any of this sound familiar? Am I the only one who has anxiety about this?
Wait. 

Take a step back. 

Breathe.
I seem to have forgotten something. 
I am a Christian. I am a follower and believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. He has made me some promises for times like this. 
When my overactive imagination and way too powerful anxiety begin to take over, God in His gentle, loving but firm way reminds me to go to His word. 
In it I find over and over that He is sovereign. He is on His throne always. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. He loves me. 
I have had the privilege of walking through a study of the book of Daniel for the last several weeks and while I am blown away by the amazing stories of the fiery furnace, hanging out with some seriously big kitties, and holy graffiti, there is one set of scripture in this book that has landed squarely in my heart and races through my mind for such a time as this.
“He said, “Praise the name of God forever and ever, for He has all wisdom and power. He controls the course of world events; He removes kings and sets up other kings. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the scholars. He reveals deep and mysterious things and knows what lies hidden in darkness, though He is surrounded by light. I thank and praise you, God of my ancestors, for you have given me wisdom and strength. You have told me what we have asked of you and revealed to us what the king demanded.” Daniel 2:21-23
The context of this scripture is Daniel and his buddies, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, are asking God to tell them what the dream was that King Nebuchadnezzar had and the meaning of it in order to save the lives of many. 
This scripture has served to remind me that God is in control. Period. He was then, He is now and He will be long after I’m gone. The fact that He is the One that “removes kings and sets up other kings” has given me cause for pause. I can rest in that. I can believe that He will put whomever He chooses in the White House and while I may not understand His actions, I can trust His plan. 
I may or may not agree with who sits in the highest seat in our nation, but humbly bow to the One who “reveals deep and mysterious things and knows what lies in darkness”. 
So, for those of us who can get a little riled about the current political situation, let’s set our focus and hope on the One who “controls the course of world events”.

This morning I read Ephesians 6:1-4. I’ve read it many times before but for some reason today it hit me in a totally differently way. 

“Children, obey your parents because you belong to the Lord, for this is the right thing to do. 

“Honor your father and mother.” This is the first commandment with a promise: If you honor your father and mother, “things will go well for you, and you will have a long life on the earth.” Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes from the Lord.”

‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭6:1-4‬ ‭NLT‬‬
I know that I am to obey my parents and in so doing I am also honoring them. Sometimes that is really hard since I am an adult with my own children. I am thankful that my parents and I seem to have fallen into a very compatible pattern over the last few years where there is mutual respect and a willingness to listen to each other rather than bicker over things. This certainly does not mean we always agree, but there seems little reason to fight. This makes obeying them much easier!
It was actually verse 4 that struck me this morning and the commentary from the NLT Life Application Study Bible. 
“Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes from the Lord.”

‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭6:4‬ ‭NLT‬‬
Man, this is hard. I know that one of the sins that I struggle with and the Lord is constantly calling me on is my temper. This is especially true when I am disciplining my boys. I know I am strict on some issues that are simply non-negotiable in our home, for that I do not apologize. However, the Lord has ways to enforce the rules that “comes from” Him. It’s when I step out of those guidelines that I should apologize, first to my Lord and then to my children. Not always easy to do, but so very important. 

This is the commentary from my Bible:

“The purpose of parental discipline is to help children grow, not to exasperate and provoke them to anger or discouragement (see also Colossians 3:21). Parenting is not easy – it takes lots of patience to raise children in a loving, Christ honoring manner. But frustration and anger should not causes for discipline. Instead, parents should act in love, treating their children as Jesus treats the people He loves. This is vital to children’s development and to their understanding of what Christ is like.” NLTLASB
I can not express how hard this hit me. My children NEED me to discipline them, but in a manner that will encourage them and not discourage them. They NEED me to correct them, but not when I am angry so they learn how to control their own anger. They NEED me to lead and guide them, but not in ways that belittle or embarrass them so they grow up with confidence. 

This is how Christ has raised me since my infancy as a believer. 

I most certainly do not do all that He wants me to and I surely fail in the ways I try to do what He wants, but He is ever loving and kind in His discipline and gracious in His instruction. Reflecting on His word and His actions in my own life has lead me to this question:
How will my children, your children, ever come to know, love and trust our compassionate, just, kind, bigger-than-anything God if they don’t see Him in us first?