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 4

Not again… my heart raced as I braced myself on the counter. I wiggled my hand, pinched it, flexed it. Still there…but not…

I called my husband over to check my face. Does one side look off? It doesn’t feel right. Ask me to say ‘tennis ball!’

All normal, at least on the outside.

The vision returned and the migraine came in full force. Just finish the pizza, thank the neighbor for the eggs. Then sit in the dark on the couch.

A couple days later I talked with my doctor on the phone.

What is the cause of this? It wasn’t a stroke – what was it?

“Cut gluten completely, and immediately.”

Are you serious? Gluten can do this?

“It’s inflaming your brain; cut it from your diet and we will go from there.”

I did, and the healing began. After a week or so without any trace of gluten, I was feeling amazingly better. My husband worked on finishing up the glutenous foods and the kids and I adjusted our diets. No more tummy aches, no more pain in my oldest’s knee. It was fantastic.

I adjusted my baking routine; I had begun selling baked goods, planning to continue as a means of fundraising for our adoption. I found that there’s a significant gluten-free crowd, so I started catering to them.

Not long after that I had blood work done that revealed more: leaky gut, intolerances to gluten, dairy, eggs, and a handful of other random foods.

Great. How will I do this? Now I’m basically a gluten-free, meat-eating vegan? HA!

My mind bounced between determination and defeat.

How would I keep baking to sell? I could keep up with the gluten free goods, since the rest of my family could still eat them. Batches had to be dual-purpose: keep some for my family, make extra to sell. I could make smaller batches of things for myself. Problem solved…once I could get the hang of it.

---

Wait, what is this? My left side…again…no…

It had been over two months since making huge diet changes. Two months without any gluten, which I now knew inflamed my brain. Yet there I was, symptoms showing up again. They were a fraction of what they used to be, but they were back.

I panicked.

Is it MS? Is it Lyme? What is wrong with me?!

Year after year I was told it was all in my head. All these random symptoms - they didn’t make sense, so it must just be in my head. Or if that wasn’t satisfactory – anxiety. Surely anxiety.

I searched and searched, read and read. Cried and fought fear, again.

Fatigue. Brain fog. I assumed these were part of motherhood – but I was sleeping enough. Why was I still waking up exhausted? Why could I not formulate the words I wanted to say, when they were right there? Why couldn’t I think of things, or do something without being distracted? Come to think of it, these issues were around long before my kids were.

Heart palpitations. Joint pain. Neck pain. Migraines. Shortness of breath. Surely, anxiety. Yet why did my wrist seize up when I tightened the carseat strap? Why could I walk miles one day, and the next get winded carrying laundry up the stairs? Why, in high school, could I track with all that my coaches asked and then later look like I had no idea what I was doing? Surely, anxiety?

I walked into my doctor’s office and told her to prove me wrong.

“It’s Lyme,” I said. “It all makes sense.”

It’s Lyme, she was certain. She’d seen enough of this to recognize it. We did a blood test, she prescribed me an intense medication, and we talked about getting my life back.

How did I get here?

I went out to the car and sat, relieved to have a prospective answer. Relieved yet terrified. People die of this.

My husband found out he had a week off of work after being exposed to covid. I filled the prescription, fully intending to start while he was home and I’d have help.

I couldn’t do it.

The test results took longer than expected. But Josh’s one week off turned into two and I thanked God. It had become a sweet time together, and we got into a rhythm. Finally the results came – CDC negative, but based on bands in my blood it was very positive. Go figure.

Now, surely anxiety.

I cut the tablet into four and took one piece before I could talk myself out of it.

I thought back over the last few months. I had prayed in desperation for a doctor who would be able to hear me out and provide help. He answered that prayer, and He orchestrated the order of events in just the right way. This particular doctor is a Lyme specialist, which I initially shrugged at - but He knew. We got my diet under control, allowing my body to start healing. And He allowed me to have a solid month+ of that before uncovering the Lyme disease I’ve had for over a decade.

All the pieces started to come together, and so did the questions.

Where does this leave us with adoption? My diet is even more restricted on this medication, I can’t even touch some of the baking ingredients now - how can I fundraise? Can I even fundraise at all if I’m on the couch, killing this bacteria? How will we be able to get through my treatment? It’s supposed to take a year or two…or more…Lord, please let it be effective. Please, please heal me.

…to be continued, once more…

Let Me Tell You a Story - Part 3

I requested information from yet another adoption agency, praying it would be straightforward. Emails came, info came, phone call came.

It costs HOW MUCH?

We prayed. It didn’t sit right and we had to walk away.

I got online and started researching again. What other options are there? How could we make this work?

We debated over foster care, wanting to provide a healthy home but not sure we could handle the constant change. Attaching and detaching. Dealing with the State and a corrupt system. But it would cost a lot less, and we could foster to adopt…we’d help the children we could until some needed a permanent home, and then we’d be readily available.

We dove into licensing. Instead of driving an hour to do group training, we watched countless videos at home while the world shut down with covid. Will we even have children to foster? Abusers being stuck at home with children…the number of reports being filed lessened. Maybe we were getting into it for such a time as this.

A year of work went by, and then it all fell apart. No license. No prospect.

I cried, and dove harder into researching. Why is it so dang hard to adopt a child?

God knew our pain. And as frustrating as it was to be back at the start, we knew fostering wasn’t the direction we needed to go. We regrouped and kept praying. My hands loosened their grip as I had to face what I knew in my mind: I’m not in control. He is.

---

“We’re going to send you right over to the ER,” the nurse announced upon re-entry. “I talked with the doctor and it’s best.”

My face isn’t great at hiding shock.

“Okay,” I reached over and got my purse. “They’ll be expecting me?”

“Yes. We just can’t take a chance with your heart.”

I walked over to another section of the medical buildings and checked in again. My shaking hands typed out texts to family…won’t be home for the kids as soon as I thought, hope this doesn’t affect your plans.

Tests, labs, questions. Some questions from me, some from them.

EKG was fine. Bloodwork was fine.

Everything was fine.

“You sure you’re not anxious?” they asked. “Maybe you need therapy.”

“Well at this second, yeah, I am” I answered. “But when the episodes happen, I’m not.”

“Mmmhmm. Well, you’re healthy. There’s not much else we can do for you.”

Out I walked, again. Everything fine, again. Must be anxiety…but I knew it wasn’t. It didn’t make sense.

---

Lord, please let us adopt.

How many times had I asked Him over the years? Countless - yet He knew.

No after no after no, either we would throw in the towel or dig in deeper. We continued to pray; surely He would allow us to do something after His own heart. Right?

A friend shared something about adoption on Facebook, and instead of scrolling again I stopped and thought. Maybe she would know what to do, or which agency to use?I

We talked and she shared how wonderful her experience had been. I asked many questions, a bit pessimistically, waiting for it to be a no-go. Something had to give, it seemed so straightforward.

Josh and I talked about it and I sent an email requesting more info.

To our surprise, it was as good as it sounded. Straightforward, simple, based on the Scripture. And if we wanted, we could get a discount if we signed on within 30 days.

Well that’s a no-brainer.

But Josh agonized over it, being convinced on one hand and hesitant about timing on the other. He asked God to make it clear to us whether we should jump in or wait and make up the financial difference another time. He asked that if it was God’s will, He would provide him with a raise or some other long-term way to continue providing for our family.

It’s not a prayer I’ve ever heard my husband say. But I smiled, and waited to see what would happen.

Friday came, and we needed to make a decision by the following Monday. Lord, what would You have us do? Please honor his prayer, we will do what You want.

Josh brought home dinner so I didn’t have to cook. Then he pulled me aside.

“You can call and say we’re in,” he said.

“What??”

“I got a raise,” he grinned.

Down to the last minute. And what a smidge of a raise it was; it was like the Lord saying, “Jump in, and trust Me.”

That Saturday we made a payment and signed on with a wonderful adoption consulting agency. After years of waiting, we finally had an answer.

Thank You, Lord!!

…to be continued…

Read Part 1 and Part 2

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…