The Guide Book || Friday Magnify

“Oh, magnify the Lord with me,
And let us exalt His name together.”
Psalm 34:3

Parenting is daunting. We are given little humans to learn about and teach and disciple…and then they get big enough to be out on their own.

Countless times I’ve heard something to the effect of, “Phew, I hope they turn out alright!” as if a parent has no impact on who a child becomes. This is discouraging!

While it’s true we don’t control our children, and they do make decisions of our own - parenting isn’t a lottery game, throwing in some good lessons here and there and hoping they come out valuable. I think we’ve forgotten that we do in fact have a guide book for raising our children - Scripture!

Scripture gives us adults guidelines to live by; it shows us how to conduct ourselves and how to interact with others. It is the basis for how a Christian ought to live.

If it works for adults, why wouldn’t it work for children - who are growing into adults?

This seems like such an obvious thing to say, but we easily forget that Scripture is just as applicable to a child as it is to an adult. We want our children to grow into mature, Godly men and women. That means we need to be intentional while they are young to teach them God’s Word and hold them to His standards. We diligently teach and train them, and pray that the Lord stirs their hearts to recognize their need for a Savior.

A Christian home that is based on Scripture yields much good fruit! It takes Mom and Dad prioritizing reading Scripture on their own, and figuring out how to apply God’s principles to the family unit. It takes a lot of patience, hard work, and perseverance. It takes forgiveness, gentleness, and kindness. It is not an easy thing, but it is a good and noble task and one that our Heavenly Father calls us to.

We are immensely blessed to have God’s Word to guide us and help us as parents. We get to learn from the one perfect Father. We get to share His rules, His mercy, and His love with our children, and they get to taste Christian fellowship in their home. All gifts! I am so thankful.

If you want more practical tips and experiences of how to apply Scripture to your family’s life, I highly suggest listening to some of the podcasts on my Resources page. Our family has been hugely blessed by the content of these faithful believers! :)

Let Me Tell You a Story - Part 5

As I said in the beginning of this series, I have no nice little bow to tie this up with. I wish I did - I wish I had answers, for my sake and that of my family. It would be so nice to know what to expect, what to plan on. It would be nice too for a reader, like you, to see how God carried things to completion in a well-written ending.

But the truth is, He isn’t done writing the story.

The last year+ has felt like a stripping of many things. Freedoms, in the world outside our door; plans, as Josh and I have made plans and watched them be thwarted time after time; foods, we make significant changes and rework our diet. I get exhausted mentally from adjusting and readjusting, researching, planning, budgeting, fighting fear. I get exhausted physically from fighting this disease and keeping up with littles.

There are so many questions; you may have wondered them too. How will we care for more children, with me being sick? What if I’m not healed of Lyme? How will we raise and earn enough money to adopt? When will we adopt? What if we face another medical emergency? When will we be able to have a larger home? What if He doesn’t give us the many children we have hoped and prayed for?

If we were talking in my living room, I’d open my Bible for you and tell you two things:

1) I don’t know!
2) But: “…we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).

God has seen fit to allow our family these hardships. They could have been a lot worse. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, if it will be easier or if it will be harder. But I do know that my husband and I love the Lord with all of our hearts, and He is working all things in our lives for good. He determines what is “good” - not me. (Hallelujah, because I’d make a terrible god!) I can trust Him with all of these things, and with whatever is to come.

Would I have asked Him for all of these hardships? I can’t say that I would. Yet at the same time, I wouldn’t change it because He has grown my faith immensely through the struggles. Walking through challenge after challenge is very sanctifying if we allow it to be. If we press into Scripture amidst trials, He will shape us to be more like Himself. There are lessons from the last year that I wish I’d learned sooner, and others that I wish I knew better. But I am thankful for the growth He has given me.

We are still walking forward with adoption, and He will show us how it all will look. We know He has called us to it. We’re taking days one at a time, doing what we can, and working to leave our worries at the door. He can handle them.

We are doing the same with Lyme, treating it as best we can and praying that He heals me. He has sustained me thus far, and He is capable of continuing to do so.

These posts may have made it seem like our family’s life is one big rollercoaster ride, and it kind of is. But it’s also very full of the mundane. Josh goes to work, I homeschool the kids and get meals on the table, we play in the yard and go for walks. We read Scripture and sing and wash dishes and play a million games of Connect4. There are fights and squabbles, and daily discipleship as we teach our children (and remind ourselves) how to become Godly adults. There’s joy, forgiveness, peace and contentment. He is a giver of good gifts.

So we wait, and we learn to trust better. We know that someday, in Heaven, life’s pieces will all make sense. It’s that analogy of a beautiful tapestry - He sees the front, the glorious picture; we see jumbled, messy threads in the back. For now, we rest in the fact that He knows what He’s doing and He cares for us.

“Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world. But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you. To Him be the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen.”
1 Peter 5:6-11, emphasis mine

I pray that through this series of posts, you are able to see this reality I mentioned at the start:

Pain is not bad, and God is always trustworthy.

He never leaves us in the pain, He uses it for our good. He knows and He knows what is best.

And though this completes this particular group of blog posts, it is all to be continued…because God is not done. :)

Thank you for reading along. May He receive glory!

Read all the segments:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Let Me Tell You a Story - Part 2

Sirens screeched as blue and red flashes lit up the street. I held him tighter and looked outside, wishing it was just a nightmare and the vehicles were really there for something else.

Please Lord.

Everything was a blur. Vitals. Papers. Phone calls. Find clothes, pack a bag. No, I’m not letting go of him. Yes, look wherever you need to. Lights. Doors open, doors close. Are we going?

Lord, please…

A whole town watching, on edge. Tears. Here comes the chopper. Please, let me fly with him. A reluctant nod, ear protection, tighten the belt. Off we go – food, stay down.

Lord, thank You for this provision.

Landed. Searching for a railing - there isn’t one, don’t trip.

What happened? Here’s his mother - I can tell you what I know. His frantic eyes, searching, found me: locked. Can I sit with him? Sure, then tests.

Scans, needles, questions. A smile. Thank You, dear Lord.

Daddy. Another smile. Scans, needles, questions. Texts, prayers.

The agony of waiting, feeling his heartbeat.

Lord, thank You that I can be here to hold him. Thank You for holding both of us. What time is it? I’m so exhausted. My arms are shaking but I’m not about to move him. Sustain me, Lord.

Nurse arrives, he’s clear.

What?

He’s good. We didn’t find anything.

Nothing?? How?

Not sure…but you can go.

Catch my breath, the shaking pauses. Relief. Awe. How?

---

I’d never prayed so hard. Never cried out to the Lord in such desperation, begging Him to hold my boy and let him miraculously be alright. Never have I held my little one so tight. I lived on edge weeks after the accident, waiting for something to take a turn for the worse. Waiting to see that everything wasn’t actually alright. What if this? And what if that?

We can’t live in what-ifs.

Live in thanksgiving.

How? How do you live in thanksgiving, when life is fleeting before your eyes? How, when you don’t know if your son will be here in the morning?

Praise.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy - meditate on these things. The things which you learned and received and heard and saw in me, these do, and the God of peace will be with you.”
Philippians 4:6-9

I knew this section of Scripture. Memorized it from a young age. And here I was, in a prime situation to use it. Written from Paul, who faced imprisonments, beatings, shipwrecks. He knew challenges, and here he was saying it was possible to have peace in the midst of them. I had thought for sure I would be firm and steadfast in the Lord when hard-pressed, someday, somehow. Yet now, I was turning the other way and clinging desperately to fear.

I fought what He says in Philippians.

No, You can’t tell me to be calm. I might lose my child. Or he might never be the same. And You want me to think about things that are true and right and virtuous and lovely and praiseworthy?

Yes.

So I tried, and my husband helped me daily.

True: our boy is home. The scans didn’t indicate anything abnormal.

Just, right: he was seen right away, doctors listened and everyone worked together.

Virtuous: many people helped us through all stages of the accident, caring and going out of their way to serve.

Lovely: somehow, there was an element of beauty below as I flew over towns in the eerie, loud silence of the helicopter. Is that even worth mentioning?

Praiseworthy: all of the above. And most, that he is healthy.

Little by little, I began to experience something I’ve never understood to this depth. This Scripture is true, and it is truly comforting. The peace that passes all understanding? That - that is indescribable, and it only comes from the Lord.

I forced myself to praise Him even as I shook with fear. I praised Him for the little things in front of me, and I thanked Him for knowing all the big things around me. As I gave Him thanks, He reminded me that I do not hold control. What could I have done, really, to have any control the night of the accident? What could I have done, really, to control things in the helicopter or hospital? Nothing. We don’t control things.

The what-ifs come and I can think through scenarios, but then they must go because they aren’t mine to determine. He is trustworthy. The next step may be terrifying or it may be easy. It may be another degree of pain, or it may be a relief. God knows, and He gives the strength and peace necessary for each moment. He is not absent! He knows, and He is so ready to help us and heal our broken hearts.

I wish I could describe this better for you, but you won’t know it by my words. You’ll only know it by His. Practice it in the simple things - give thanks when it’s easy, find virtue and honorable things out of habit. And when harder things come, employ the same routine. You will learn of His peace, and you will never want it to leave.

…to be continued…

Let Me Tell You a Story

This has been years in the making, and I have often prayed of when to start writing. When to share. The pieces haven’t been there - it always has been not yet. But now, it’s time.

I am going to share fractions of how the Lord has worked in my life. I’m not sure how it will look and where it will go - He isn’t done yet, of course. I don’t have a story tied up with a bow. But my deepest desire is that I will convey His goodness, and that you will come away with two things:

Pain isn’t bad, and God is always trustworthy.

---

Josh and I talked about adoption before we ever started dating. He was moving with his family to another country, and he entertained thoughts of how to get involved in an orphanage there. Him, fresh into life in a new country; me, fresh out of life in a new country. Both: a desire to care for those who didn’t have a family.

I was heartbroken to leave that particular mission field. But I thought someday the Lord would bring me back; I had grand plans and all. I knew He had led me to return to the States, as much as I didn’t want to. I thought for sure He would move me back once I’d gotten married. The house I walked past almost daily, the one I’d researched from the sale listing and figured out how many bedrooms I could turn it into – it would wait, right? He could make that happen.

Josh and I got married and settled into our 642-square-foot apartment. Tiny by our standards, lavish by others. I looked out our bedroom window at the sparrows that always sat on the wires. You look after their every need…and You look after mine. Thank You. Would you bring us back there, please?

I longed to go.

Year after year, to this day, my husband still grins when he asks, “has it been three months? You’re about due for a need-to-move itch.”

Over time the yearning for that specific country has waned, as I see such need elsewhere. But my longing to move resurfaces every few months. I long for warmth and sun. for barefoot babies and gardens. for a home with many bedrooms, space for many children, land - that we can afford. And yet He has us here, in a cold little New England town, with many of our dreams out of reach. Contentment is something I’ve had to fight for.

“You want how many kids?” people are always surprised.

“Ten,” I say. “Or more.”

“Is your husband okay with that?”

“You kidding?” he pipes in. “I want as many as the Lord will give us.”

And here we are, with our two sweet boys. Immensely grateful and wondering what His timing is for bringing us more.

Instead of a house with many bedrooms, we are in a duplex with two bedrooms. Instead of acreage and gardens and animals, we share a backyard and have been trying our hand at raised beds in a corner of the lot. Instead of great health, I am forced to put many things (like childbearing) on hold.

I could complain.

But I know that His ways are good and we are where we are because He wants us here. So, I look for the blessings and I turn this waiting into a classroom.

We have plenty of space for our family. We have a yard to play in and let the dog run in. We have the ability to get creative with garden space, and the time to learn and get good at growing food on a small scale. We share the duplex and yard with my brother and sister-in-law, which has been one of God’s greatest blessings to us all. Josh and I have time to focus on training up our boys and setting a family rhythm before adding more children in. I have time to get healthy. There are countless other thanksgivings I could share.

God does what He wants when He wants, and there is no better way.

So I wait, and wait some more.

To be continued…