Faith Archives - Page 23 of 28

August 27, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

Who You Are

How do you measure yourself?

Now, I don’t mean with a measuring tape… or maybe I do. Do you measure yourself by those numbers?

Do you measure yourself by weight? Size? Shortcomings? Weaknesses? The things you can not do? The things you can not be? The things you just can’t get right?

I have spent many times… too many times… in my life measuring myself by what I am not.

Mama, he’s better than I am at everything…

I reassured my little one that she was all wrong.

He just does everything better than I do…

The dejected look, the sinking face… me wanting to grab her and say

Don’t you know who you are?!

The thing is… my oldest son, the one my oldest daughter is convinced has by-passed her in all areas… my son, he thinks the same way.

If I could just be faster…

stronger…

better…

taller…

It doesn’t matter the description… we have all done this. If I could just be more like… If I could just be better at… If I could just be more… perfect.

Don’t you know who you are?

I ask my little ones. I ask myself.

How do I measure myself? How do they measure themselves?

By all the ways we are not, by all the ways we do not…

It’s time to learn the only unit of measure.

The only measure that matters… is how He measures us. We measure up enough…

to die for.

We won’t get it all right here. We might only get a few things right here. There will always be someone here… someone who can do it just a little bit better.

The way I look at it… which one of my precious six pack is the best? Yes, it’s laughable… an impossible, unnecessary measurement. They are all, every last one, in every little way, worth that price. I would die for them. He did.

That’s just it. That’s just the way He sees us. Every last one.

So, how should we measure ourselves?

by the measure if His sacrifice.

No matter how tall, how fast, how witty, how stunning, how good we are… or are not…

He died for us

That is the only measure I want my little ones to use. Mama first…

Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

August 23, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

A Question Before Dying

We slid in quietly. Sat in the back, my husband and I.

The somber, familiar feeling overwhelmed as we gathered to bid farewell to a friend.

A husband, a father, a son, a brother. A friend to hundreds… thousands… as was evident in the gathering.

The ceremony a comforting ritual… heartfelt words… godly wisdom.

I couldn’t stop thinking of his family.

A beautiful wife, two sons on the edge of childhood… entering manhood, a little girl… the same age as my young daughter.

His parents, his siblings, his friends… his brothers-in-arms… a collective body ~ praying. Prayers of thanksgiving for the man he was… thanksgiving for the servant he was… thanksgiving for the love he shared with so many.

A warrior, like my own… a fighter pilot, like my own, sharing the bond of sacrifice.

The rows of people, dark-clad, muffled tears.

Then the sobs of a child

a little girl

wanting her daddy back… here

The priest spoke of love. He spoke of Christ’s love. He spoke of our friend’s devotion to his Lord.

Do you know what was most on his mind before he passed into the arms of His savior? A question.

He knew God would watch over his family, he knew they would be reunited in the paradise we await. He knew it was all just a matter of time.

His thought ~ the question he asked the godly counselor…

Have I served God well?

It was the question he repeated in the week before his passing.

The priest spoke of Romans 6… he asked us to read it in honor of our friend.

I did.

Dead to Sin, Alive in Christ

I poured over the words… drinking them in with the hope that they would finally and completely take hold.

The life I live, I live to God

The question is one that is swelling in my mind… squeezing thoughts of self out of the way. I want the question to take hold… I want the question to be the first question in the gift of a new morning… a new sunrise with my six pack… I want the question to be the last thought my conscious mind holds… trusting Him to take care of all of it ~ of all of us.

Have I served God well?

Am I serving God well?

Will I serve God well?

That we would all embrace this thought… do we serve God well?

Romans 6:23

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

August 21, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

Seeing the Fruit

We must have gotten something right.

We must have figured something out in this parenting thing.

I had a moment that made this mama’s heart burst… and ache just a bit… all at the same time.

A week of sleep-overs for my 9-year-old daughter. She was thrilled to have multiple invitations in one week and her beautiful, beaming face shone as she skipped off with her dear friends.

Happy, happy, joy, joy.

Then, the next day…

Mama, I stayed up ’til 2:30 in the morning!

She proudly announced this… certain that this would be a sure-fire sling shot toward adulthood. (I’ve told her to enjoy the kid thing… such beauty and simplicity in that childhood place… to live a life backwards would be something…)

And I’m not even tired!

Yet.

The day rolls along… children mingling throughout the house… toys strewn… games played… battles fought. A weekend day. A daddy day. The best kind. Then, the golden carriage of our home ~ turns to a pumpkin. Just. Like. That. Poof.

This completely exhausted child… melts.

Why didn’t I get her to bed earlier?

I chastise myself (the mama-blame).

I knew this was going to happen…

She needs rest… sleep… peace… quiet

All the little ones are shuffled into their nests for the night… and my beautiful girl… the one who is contagiously cheerful, unquestioningly helpful… my little one with a servant’s heart. She falls apart… completely. This little one can withstand many things in this house full of children, siblings, and all things messy… but, sleep deprivation is not one of them (don’t know where she got this trait? Sigh)

I wrap around this sobbing child, trying to soothe her, calm her, lull her into the dreamland. No luck. Daddy steps in… more calming, soothing. Nope. Patience wearing thin.

I can’t just let her cry…

Besides, she’ll wake the little ones. Not an option.

Finally, I bring her into our room. I hold her and sing to her… memories of a smaller version of this very face peek through the darkness.

I’m sorry, mama

I just can’t stop…

I know this feeling. We women know this feeling. That cry that overflows from the depth of all things contained… all things that have been carefully shoved and packed into a deeper place, in the hopes that they will simply dissipate. We so often want it to all wash away… without actually doing the washing.

My daughter did the washing. She flowed with every frustration, fear, and feeling… for an hour.

Now, she should be all better.

Ah, not so much.

You’ve got to be kidding me!?

This mom… at a loss. Then, she asked it…

Can I go in and see them?

Our little ones have a nightly game of musical beds. The ultimate treat? Sharing a room with the big brother.

Can I go in and say good night again?

He always calms me down.

There it is. The fruit of intentional relationships. The gift of spending our days, our lives, our everything… intentionally together. (We do have time apart… reference mom wanting to run).

Sure, go say good night.

She enters the room. Two reading young ones lift weary eyes from bed-time books.

Are you ok?

The concern on their young faces… these faces that during the day sometimes long to aggravate one another.

I just wanted to say good night.

A little sister, only 7-years-old, climbs out of bed and wraps arms of love around big sister. This little one lifts her sister from the ground in embrace. Lifts her taller, bigger sister off of her feet.

A thought enters my mind.

He does that… He lifts us off of our own feet. Picks up our burdens and carries them. Lifts us in love… and squeezes.

Three young siblings gather on the bed. Sharing stories, words, comfort between siblings beyond the frequency of mama’s understanding.

You always calm me down.

What? Big brother demands. My red-eyed, sleepy girl repeats it.

Oh! I thought you said “You always call me dumb.”

Peels of laughter.

The pumpkin… a golden carriage again.

My heart fills with joy at the connection of these young hearts before me. For a moment, I ache… but, for a flash, I think…

You didn’t need mama this time

I can see it. The growing of this garden is meant to teach them to relate to each other… not just to me. To lean into each other. To find comfort in family. In the family of their home. In the family of Christ.

Philippians 2:2

then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose.

August 19, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

Clay in the Potter’s Hands

You know the feeling that you get when you think that you are going in the right direction?

That feeling that everything is falling into place and there can be no doubt that you are moving forward.

Everything is moving along beautifully. Then. It. Stops.

What happened?

I was so sure…

Is this not the way?

This comes in motherhood, marriage, friendship, relationships, callings, and especially in… faith.

I thought I had it figured out…

at least I thought I was on the way to figuring it out.

Not so much. A big fat, red STOP SIGN. There it is. You are at a stand-still and you don’t know which way to go…

Am I moving in the right direction?

Did I mess up?

I just don’t get it…

When this happens… it’s frustrating and confusing… just when you think you can fit God and His plans into a neat, tidy package. Sigh.

Once upon a time… I would have ignored the thoughts, the promptings… I would have carried on under my own will, my own ideas. I can do this.

One step closer. This time… I drop to my knees… and pray. Hard. The kind of prayer that sounds like a sniffling, weepy, incoherent child.

I don’t get it!

Where did I mess up?

Please show me.

You know what? He does ~ He shows me. Again. Every time. In His time. But, He always listens and He always gives wisdom… when we mean it. When we really want it ~ no matter the cost to our fragile egos.

The flailing soul in the quick sand learns to… hold still. Pray.

The quick sand stops its hungry pull downward… when we just stop fighting it. He is right there. Waiting for us to… hold still.

It’s on my knees, in utter silence (which is pretty difficult to come by around here)… it’s here, that He answers.

The funny thing, the way He always blows my mind… He answers in a way that is the direct opposite of what I expected. And this direct opposite way is the perfect answer to my prayers. Amazing. Every time.

I read something this morning…

Discouragement is disenchanted self-love, and self-love may be love of my devotion to Jesus.

~ Oswald Chambers

Oh, to think that my love for Christ would be over-shadowed by my love for my own devotion to Him… not His love for me. His will, not mine.

These earnest prayers, like a babbling child… they are the ones He answers. A disciplining by the Father to His child… keep it real. Allowing the Spirit to keep me in check.

That I would become clay, softened in the hands of the Potter.

James 1:4-5

Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

August 15, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

Come As You Are

This place is a little bit uncomfortable for me.

The discomfort comes from this unseen nudging. The nudging to be transparent.

Transparency is pretty uncomfortable.

I have always thought that in order to be a good Christian… the kind of Christian that can speak to fellow Christians about the faith, and non-Christians about the beauty and need for the faith… in order to be a good Christian, I had to be, well… good.

I’m not always good. In fact, there are way too many times that I am far from good. I am definitely not good enough to be a representative for the One who has given us all.

Ok, work a little harder…

do a little better ~ a lot better, then, yes, then…

I can do whatever it is that God has planned for me.

I thought ~ as soon as I take my last sip of wine, or my last taste of beer (I am German-blooded and married to an Irish-blooded man, after all)… as soon as I take my last bite of chocolate (ok, chocolate is not a bad thing)… as soon as I stop yelling at my kids… as soon as I say my last cuss word… as soon as I get it together and stop messing up… then, I can be a good Christian and go out and represent Christ and His followers properly.

Here it is…

I’ll never be good enough. All those things don’t keep me in bondage. Those things don’t keep me from getting closer to Him… from hearing Him more clearly… from following Him with my heart wide open. My bondage comes from somewhere else.

What keeps me shackled and slows my running to Him with open arms is not something that I do occasionally. What keeps me in this place of dragging my heels is the uncomfortable. The uncomfortable transparency that comes with being truthful. Speaking the truth about my faith, my heart, my thoughts ~ the fear of looking a bit like a weirdo. The uncomfortable emotions… the unspoken anxiety that I may somehow mess up my kids and be responsible for something ~ anything ~ going wrong in their lives… the unspoken frustrations I feel towards my husband, whom I love dearly… the unspoken fear that I won’t be able to help my aging parents, while my mother’s mind slowly loses the memories that I share with her… the unspoken irritation that I sometimes feel towards fellow believers… the unspoken judgements that spark in my cluttered mind…

If I could just fix all this, well, then I could finally do whatever it is that God has planned for me.

These weaknesses just get in my way.

It’s uncomfortable… the hardships, the difficulties… the truth.

Then, He speaks to my heart. I am hanging on to baggage that is not mine.

…the truth will set you free. (John 8:32)

Oh, He is patient and loving with this child of His.

His grace is sufficient

He opens my eyes to the burdens that weigh my heart down… my heart, in a place that it is not meant to stay. In guilt. In bondage.

What keeps us in bondage is not always so obvious to our searching minds… but, sometimes, those chains are ones we have become so accustomed to wearing that we don’t even recognize them as chains anymore. We trudge on under the weight of our self-imposed burdens… forgetting to give them to God.

Complete surrender… it means just that. Complete surrender.

I don’t have to be good enough… we don’t have to be good enough… we could never be good enough. He loves us just as we are. He welcomes us to come as we are. He has a mighty work… and mighty joy planned for us. Just as we are.

If we would just surrender… all of it. To Him.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Who You Are

A Question Before Dying

Seeing the Fruit

Clay in the Potter’s Hands

Come As You Are

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