The Ugly Day Prayer

Ever had an ugly day? If you’re like me, it’s hard to admit when you do. These are not my pretty days. They are the kind of days when Seth lifts an eyebrow at me and says, “You okay,” as he backs slowly out of the room taking the children with him.

TheUgly day.

It’s a tired, unreasonable, picking fights with the hubs over nothing kind-of-day. Nothing anyone can say is right, your kids are acting like holy terrors and each ungrateful one has to be to their own specific activity all in completely different locations. You are stressed by this because you have already forgotten one baseball practice this week and you didn’t remember to pick up your child at Cross Country. Then the text of shame comes:

“Mom? Mom? You coming to get me?”

You come home every night to a dinner that has to be fixed and a house that looks like it has been robbed and ransacked. You and the husband try to work together, but you are outnumbered by the three children.

One child beckons, “Mom, I need help in Math.”

Another chimes, ” Dad, I have a science project due.”

And then the youngest wails, “You don’t like me because you make me eat vegetaaaaaaables!”

By now even the dog is demanding your attention, barking to come in from the backyard. With your super sonic hearing in a house of five people, you happen to be the only one who can hear her. Imagine that! You beg someone to let her in and feed her but it appears that no one else realizes that it takes food to keep her alive.

As you slam your finger in the kitchen drawer while unloading the dishwasher, your life feels like a five ton weight is sitting on your chest.  If you could, you would just go into the street and scream.  Shouting in the street however would  make the neighbors talk about you, so you resort to making a mountain out of a molehill inside the house, because irrational outbursts somehow make you feel better. “Am I the only one who can pick up a towel around here?!” Dramatic, frantic, emphasis on ONLY and ONE., knowing full-well you have never been the only one in 15 years to pick up a towel.

It’s just what I like to call an ugly, Ghiradelli chocolate caramel squares, on top of your jalapeno cheddar Whataburger, biggie fries and large Coke, with a side of heartburn, kind-of-day.

Are you feeling me?

There is a real formal prayer I pray on days like this. It’s full of all sorts of deep theology and flowery words for a bad day. When I am at my wits end and frustrated beyond measure. When I am striking out more than I am making contact, I stop and pray The Ugly Day Prayer. It goes something like this.

God. Help. Me.

Did you miss it? There it is. You can add a “Dear” at the beginning and an “Amen” at the end if it makes it sound  better to you. But that’s it. That’s all I need. God, please help a sinner like me. This initial bowing of my will says, “I can’t do this on my own.” It is the catalyst to my attitude adjustment from Someone whose ways are higher than mine.

God. Help. Me.

¹⁴ Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. ¹⁵ For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. ¹⁶ Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:14-16

God. Help Me.

Sometimes we find that the simplest of cries carry the most weight. When we are honest with our carnal state we free ourselves to be completely dependent on the source of all our strength. Being there for us is at the very center behind the reason for all God has done for us. God wants to help His kids and He is just waiting for us to ask! Even on our ugly days, God is there. What a friend. What a Savior! An ever present help in our time of need.

What’s My Purpose?

Have you ever asked the question, “What is my purpose? Why am I here?” Have you ever wondered what special ministry or mission God has for you on this earth? One of the greatest reasons I sought a relationship with Jesus Christ was because I wanted my life to have purpose.

What is my ministry? Where are my passions? Do I like music? Am I good working with children? Do I enjoy learning and teaching? Am I passionate about missions? Do I have a knack for technical equipment? What is my focus, what is my aim?

Once a life is changed by the power of Jesus, it is not an uncommon response for that life to want to live to serve Him in gratitude. Often we find ourselves getting busy, wanting and searching for that special thing we can do for God.

“Am I a writer, a speaker, an administrator?”

Oftentimes we put pressure on ourselves to have a title for what we are doing. We feel the need to call it something; to have it recognized as something. There’s a pressure that builds in the anticipation that we put a label on how we serve God.

Last Sunday was our mission Sunday and we heard a great message from 2 Corinthians 5:17-18. We were challenged by our pastor to not be a spectator for God. Rather, God has called us to get off the sidelines and serve Him. I was challenged by his words and likewise, continually challenged as vs 18 popped off the page in new fashion and with new focus.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to Himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.

There it is! The answer to our purpose question. Are you searching for the ministry God has for you? Well here it is.

RECONCILIATION

Defined as the reestablishing of cordial relations; this word is God’s intention for all who believe. The Father has created us that we might tell the world, that there is a God who loves them and who has a made a way that we might spend eternity with Him. God’s mission for us all is to communicate the great price He paid because He loved us. We have been reconciled to God and we are meant to share that good news.

So whether I counsel women or teach a Bible study. If I sing and make music, or go to another country to bring a little joy to children living a hard life. Whatever my task, whatever area I serve, my aim should be the same. RECONCILIATION.

I hold a firm belief that every organized group/club within a church body should have a mission statement–a purpose for why they meet together and function. After Sunday, I stopped to think about whether or not the areas I participate in have 2 Corinthians 5:18 as a foundation.

Does the goal of my ministry include reconciliation as it’s primary focus? Do the Christian events I participate in ever cause me to even think towards this aim? Have I been doing and doing tons of stuff for God but care more about how I appear to others than rating my focus on reconciliation? Have I walked forward more in condemnation of others rather than with the joy of forgiveness? Have I done all these things, never remembering the ministry Jesus gave to me? If the answer to any of these questions is “Yes,” then it’s truly time to go back to the drawing board.

What is my ministry? Why am I here?

We can give our interests and church activities special names, catchy logos, cool t-shirts, big numbers, the most advanced technology and equipment, and even a great website. All these things have a certain value in our society as we search to impact others. However, if reconciliation is not on the tip of our tongue each time we step out to live for Jesus, then we must return to His feet and remind ourselves that He didn’t save us for works. He didn’t die for cool churches and rocking good music. Jesus came to this earth to RECONCILE and He chose us as ambassadors towards that purpose.

He Makes A Difference

“Mom, how much time do I have?”

“Six hours. Why?”

“Well I have to lay out my clothes, paint my toenails, and do my hair.”

Seth and I smile at one another. The Father/Daughter dance is tonight. My little girl has had her dress picked out for weeks. She is beyond excited. She loves date night with her Daddy and I think these events do more for her than she can even fathom.

I often think how much I admire my daughter for her innate qualities; as I do her brothers for the things that make them each unique. I admire her raw courage, her confidence, grace, and love. She stares life right in the face and lives each day as a challenge. Everything is an adventure. She is not bridled by fear, rather she sees obstacles as an opportunity to grow. These are things I would shrink back from, but not her. She’s a tough little cookie wrapped pretty in pink.  A truly special little lady, and I think I know a major reason why.

I am blessed in my job to share the journey of life with many women. There are times when my heart grows heavy. Times when I hear things that break my heart. I see women, once little girls, who have been abandoned, abused, and made to feel as though they didn’t matter. I see the damage life can yield. I look at my daughter and I am truly grateful. My daughter is fortunate to be a girl who knows that she is truly loved and protected by a man who is there for her and believes in her. She doesn’t have to look to other people for approval because she feels constantly affirmed by her daddy.  I marvel when I watch the relationship between my husband and my little girl. I smile as I think of how she believes he hung the moon and how he feels she cheered him all the way there. You can see it in how they interact, how she goes to him, how she emulates him, and how she laughs both at and with him.

I remember the deer in the headlights look that Seth displayed when the ultrasound screen showed us that Baby Number Two would be a girl. He was terrified! “What will I do with a girl?” Fast forward over a decade and today he finds himself wrapped around her finger.

When I look at those two I am reminded of the magnitude of influence a father has in the life of his daughter. My daughter knows who she is and she knows that she answers to two leaders in her life: her Heavenly Father and her earthly daddy. They are shaping her in this world and I am blessed to watch her bloom.

My father always taught me I could do anything. I knew his love and still know that he believes in me. In my life that has made quite a difference. I am truly thankful for a Dad who loved and led me. I am so thankful God picked my father for me.

With the same gratitude I praise God for the father my daughter has. I realize we can’t pick our parents but I was actually able to pick my spouse. Marrying at twenty, I knew I was marrying a great guy but I had no idea he would also be such a phenomenal dad. When I see Seth with my little girl there’s hardly any greater joy I find than the opportunities I have to just step back and watch them shine.

Digging Wells

Have you ever gotten sand in your mouth? Remember that from back in the day? Playground wars and beachy-sand-fights with friends who took a playful gesture to a whole…notha…level. Nothing ups the anti like a little sand in the mouth. It can put a person right over the edge.  There’s something about the dusty dryness that completely offends you. The lips dry out immediately, it’s hard to speak, and your tongue begins that repetitive and protrusive exit strategy of a cat with a hairball. It’s just gross.

A few weeks ago when I read the story of Isaac and the wells he dug in Genesis 26, I felt my tongue swell and mouth fill with sand. In Genesis 26:1-22, no one actually gives Isaac a sand swirly, but as Isaac seeks to inhabit the land promised his father Abraham; he seems to meet adversity at every turn. Isaac definitely encounters some playground bullies on his journey to the place God had for him.

Scripture tells us that when Isaac prospered, the Philistines in their jealousy stopped up the wells Isaac’s father dug before him. And when he moved to dig other wells, the herdsmen of Gerar tried to claim the wells for themselves. There’s nothing refreshing about wells named Quarrel and Hostility. Genesis tells us that Isaac however did not give up. Isaac knew if he was going to survive he had to have water. He needed a source. Isaac continued to dig until he occupied a well in a land where God caused him to prosper. The water was right where he needed to be.  ”He called this well Open Spaces and said, ‘For now the Lord has made room for us, and we will be fruitful in the land’”

Jesus promised the Holy Spirit to those who believe in Him and he likened the Spirit’s power to an unquenchable well of living water. The living well of the Holy Spirit serves to build our character through empowerment, teaching, counsel, and comfort. The end result of His refreshing nourishment is growth. Growth even in the midst of adversity. Isaac experienced fruitfulness through digging wells.

When we live a life led by the Spirit we will undoubtedly encounter times when adversity will kick sand in our face. Evil will try to stop-up the overflow of Christ’s presence in our lives. We may even find that God will allow conflict in order to move us from one place of comfort to a place where we can bear the most fruit. It’s a great journey when we are lead by God’s spirit even though at times the path may not seem so easy. And despite hardship, I firmly believe we will know God’s refreshing as we dig. The Lord will get us closer to where we need to be. He will get us to a place of ultimate fruitfulness.

A well dug will never be wasted, so you and I must never quit digging. We must never quit seeking the Source. Power comes from the well-spring and that power produces a great harvest. So if you are out there and you have been hurt, offended, moved, or dumped on. Do not quit. Keep on digging. God has a well in a space that is yours. And with your life, He intends great things.

Not The Mama!

My neighbor is boss! As a mother of a 7 year old son and young twins, she is on a mission to get fit.  She works full time, manages a household, and works in a run whenever she is able. She commits to run even when it means pushing the twins in a double jogging stroller while she goes. Stroller running is hard work that affects every inch of your body. Kudos to my neighbor for doing it. I remember the days when mine where young; those were my walking years! I didn’t have the determination to run and push. I am in awe of her focus and I feel her pain, so a few times when we’ve run together, I have offered to push the stroller.  The first time I took the twins, it went great. The other day however, I was no substitute for Mama.

The twins and I started out doing really well together. There was a nice wind blowing, the temperature was quite pleasant. I could hear them cooing in the seats in front of me as my feet methodically pattered the sidewalk. The twin’s mom was running a little distance from me on the path, enjoying an adult conversation with one of our other running buddies. I was actually enjoying pushing the stroller for a little extra workout because the afternoon was quite peaceful. However, our blissful jog headed toward interruption once the twins learned Mama was no longer running beside “Mrs. Leah.”  Mrs Leah can push the stroller, but Mrs Leah is not the mama!

The twins began to whimper, so I pulled out my mad toddler skills. “Look, look guys,  there’s a doggy, What does the doggy, say? Doggy says ‘bark’! There’s a firetruck! The firetruck goes ‘Whirrrr, whirrr, honk honk!’ I was pulling out my best bag of tricks, even trying to use the same inflections Real Mama used to reassure them and tell them everything was okay.” No matter my tricks of the trade, it didn’t take the twins long to notice that my voice was not their mother’s voice. They knew I was not the real deal and their whimpers turned to wails. About the time I became concerned that neighborhood onlookers might think I had stolen these children, I met back up with Real Mama and all was right with the world once again. Phew!

Along the jogging path that day, I thought about my life as a Jesus follower and how important is it to be genuine.  I want to be the real deal. I don’t want to fake it and hope I make it. I want people to always see that I am who I say I am, and I will do what I say I will do. Warts and all. Not perfect, but redeemed and led by grace. Not a person who looks the part and only runs alongside those who are real. Not the kind of person who associates with the warm-fuzzy idea of Jesus, but never truly dies, to the flesh, in order to be like Him. I want to be a person transformed from the inside out with the character of Christ. When I speak, I want others to hear the real Jesus in me.

The Bible says that some people in the last days will appear godly, but lack power.  Having the form of godliness, but no strength for genuine, supernatural execution. In other words, if I am not the real deal, I will freak out and run for cover when trials come and the world screams, “NOT THE MAMA, NOT THE MAMA,” I will know then that I have been a fraud.  I will have no power to stand faithful under trial. I don’t want to be this way, I want what’s real.

My little jog with the twins was a real eye opener. As clearly as I heard my running shoes hit the pavement, I heard these words spoken to my heart. “Always be the real deal Leah, because in time, every one can spot a fake.”

But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud,arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good,  treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God,  having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. Avoid such people. 2 Timothy 3:1-5

Quiet Soul

Ever wonder why it is, that you can take a break but never stop? You can retreat away but never rest. You lay your head down on your pillow, but never slumber peacefully? The gut still wrenches. The worry creeps in past the solitude. Your heart physically aches within your chest. So much so, that you long to just reach in and massage it, in an attempt to  comfort the pain. Your brow is always furrowed. Worry lines appear. You don’t eat, you can’t sleep. Your head cries “Relax, relax,” but rest never truly comes. The activities stop, the body lays down, and the eyes may even close; but striving doesn’t cease.

True refuge cannot come unless we quiet the soul.

I pondered this the other morning as I sat down, grateful for a day-off after a busy work weekend. Millions of things to be done and moving boxes still piled in the living room. I reflected on a moment, a few weeks back, when I confessed to God that I could not run on empty. So, sitting in the comfort of my kitchen with my Bible and a cup of coffee, I purposed to rest. Still, rest was eluding me. The mental “task” list continued to scroll through my head. Organizing my kids activities, praying and even worrying for friends who were sick, facing treatments, tests, and surgery.

“I need to email this person, and text this one. I am supposed to have a lunch appointment today and Caden needs football pants…”

I could not hit pause, and I could sense a continual draining. So I began to pray one thought over and over,

“God, please quiet my soul. Quiet my soul, because I just can’t!”

When we peruse through scripture we see that we must command the soul to the refuge of God. Not just an act of rest, but healing and restoration are needed for the soul.

It is the soul that exalts. It is from within the soul, that true praise arises. It magnifies the LORD and thirsts for God. Still, the soul can become bitter and wretched. It needs redeeming. It needs the restoring leadership of the faithful Shepard in Psalm 23.

The devil can march all around the soul but never have it. He can attack the body and attack our circumstances. The devil can make you exhaustingly busy. He can wreck havoc on feelings and situations, but he cannot arrest your soul from you. The soul must be yielded. It is not allowed to be taken. Likewise our gracious Father cannot force our soul into His loving arms. We must lay it down in the hands of God daily for His guidance and strength. At the end of time, all flesh will bow. The soul will have already made it’s choice.

In this world there is a constant offering of quick fixes and spa treatments, self help, and rest for the weary. There is enough pithy Christianese to make you think you should be okay even when you know you’re really not.  Above all the noise we have to understand this: the soul must yield. It must slow down. It must break to rest and listen to loving discipline.  And when we cannot quiet our soul, we must beg our Maker to help us yield it. The soul must bow before God. The soul must feed on The Word of God in order to rightly divide the truth. The soul must trump time, circumstance, feeling, and agenda if we are ever going to make it here. We must be still before a mighty God and offer ourselves on the altar to God, in continual sacrifice.

Lord of Heaven. Creator or all. Teach me what it means to daily quiet my soul.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land. Psalm 143:6

For God alone, O my soul, waits in silence,  for my hope is from him. Psalm 62:5

Journey

In my mind’s eye a trip is something you take and a journey, is something that takes you.

A trip, is my fastest way from point A to point B. A journey, is full of via points and pit stops; it breathes in the scenery and the joy of memories made.

• A detour that lands you in a little cafe, beside the couple of 60 years, who still holds hands.
• A beautiful sunset you would have missed, if your toddler hadn’t felt the urge to potty for the third time in an hour.
• Getting out to play in the snow because it just happens to begin to fall along your route.
• Finding out your GPS has no idea where you are actually supposed to be, but loving where it landed you.

A journey isn’t your fastest way from point A to point B but it is often your richest way. The journey you treasure, the memories you make, the laughs you have, and the moments you cherish together. Even when the path grows weary, but you grow stronger. This is the journey. Something you might never choose for yourself but glad that life chose it for you.

Trials in this world are the same. Whenever faced with an obstacle I always cry, “Lord get me through this the fastest way you can!” I often find, though, that this is rarely God’s plan. It’s the detours and the pit stops that teach me how to abide and that change my character to become like my Savior. It’s the journey that strengthens me and it’s the memories that produce a hope in me to trust my Jesus all the more. The navigator of my journey, the one I learn to fix my eyes on. He is the one I learn to listen to for every turn, and the one I learn to rest in so that I can refuel. He becomes my journey and He appears in each beautiful sunset. God alone is my destination.

The journey. Not always the fastest route, but definitely the road worth taking.

For I know that My Redeemer lives, and at last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me. Job 19:25-27