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He Loves Jesus More Than He Loves Me

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Chad is usually late coming home from work. A pastor, he gets caught up in his studying or his sermon-listening or his counseling. I suspect sometimes he gets caught up in watching cat videos on the internet. Because don’t we all.

I vividly remember one day when he was running late, and I was worn out and irritated and frustrated. I called him for the fifth time in an hour, and when he finally answered the phone I came at him. What are you doing?! I huffed. I honestly wondered how he could possibly NOT be thinking of me and my situation. Surely he realized that I was being wildly inconvenienced by his tardiness. Despite the fact that my question sliced through the phone like a self-righteous sword, Chad’s answer came back quietly and with an air of immense patience: I’m just sharing the gospel with someone.

Oh. Carry on, then.

Meekly, I hung up the phone and turned to my rowdy children with a new sense of purpose in this moment. The Holy Spirit was giving me an opportunity to see that I could be a part of the gospel sharing moment that was happening in Chad’s office. And the way I could do that is by allowing Chad to sacrifice some of the time that I wanted from him so that he could give it to someone else who, just like me, desperately needs Christ.

Tonight I write this to you while the second sweet man of the evening sits in our living room across from my husband. Discipleship is happening here tonight. Husbands and fathers are growing closer to Christ, and it blesses my soul to know that here, in our home, the man that I love is giving his life to those who trust him as their shepherd.

One thing that I’ve learned through this nineteen year journey of marriage is that what you really want to look for in a husband is not someone who will cater to your every whim. It isn’t someone who is so afraid of you that he would rather disobey God than incur your wrath.  Search for the man who is always looking for ways to serve Christ and the church. Hold out for a man who is more in tune with the Holy Spirit of God than he is in tune with your moods. He is the one, my sisters, who will live a life that challenges you and helps you to see the world through spiritual eyes.  He is the one who will love you truly and deeply. Who will lay himself down for you and your children. He is the one who will care for you mind, body, and soul. The man who is in love with Jesus loves like Jesus, with grace and patience and gentleness and mercy. He will cradle you as a gift from God, and he will take seriously his responsibility to see you grow in Christ. His love for you is spiritual. It is God-given and truly blessed in every sense. Marry the one who loves Jesus more than he loves you. And then watch how the Lord will change you just because you get the privilege of watching the man you love adore his Savior.

It’s possible he won’t answer his phone when you call. It’s possible that when you finally reach him with your huffiness and your entitled attitude he will softly explain that he is serving the Lord. It’s possible that you will find yourself humbled, your spiritual eyesight adjusted back to 20/20, and once again you will thank our gracious God for a man who loves Jesus even more than he loves you.

What He Holds

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When I was a kid, Vacation Bible School was the highlight of my summer. I still remember how the slightly watered-down KoolAid tasted when it washed down exactly two sandwich cookies from the local grocery store, each lovingly placed on a white napkin and eagerly gobbled up by children who were that special brand of midsummer morning starved.

I remember how much I looked forward to painting the red bricks on the outside of the church with water, the brilliant notion of some long ago Bible School director. The buckets and paint brushes and cool, cool water were a big part of my summertime dreams as a child.

This past week, in the grand tradition of many, many summers long past, our church was filled to the brim with excited children. When you are a grown-up,VBS is all at once the most fun thing you do all summer and also the most exhausting. In the famous words of then four year old Sawyer one final day of Vacation Bible School, when I am done with VBS, “my hair is tired.” I don’t know if I’ve ever heard a more perfect description of how one feels on that last day of a long week of over-the-top enthusiasm and  Holy Spirit-inspired patience. Maybe it’s the consecutive days of restraint that is really what so completely wears out a VBS worker.

This was Adelade’s first year to be a VBS volunteer. She effectively graduated from Vacation Bible School last year, after years of loving every second of it. It was sad for me, thinking about how quickly the time goes, about how she had passed a milestone that we could never really return to–the days when she would wake up with the sun, smiling before her eyes were even open, ecstatic in the first seconds of consciousness because she knew it was a VBS day.

This year I watched as her long and lean frame took the stage, helping lead the children as they sang and learned the motions to the fun music. For the most part I didn’t think much about it. Her enthusiasm was still off the charts. Her smile never waned. She was having great fun. But then in one, tiny mama moment, I stood at the back of the sanctuary, watching one of the more mischeivous boys from my class walk, no, run, no, tumble to the bathroom, and I was mesmerized by my first-born daughter, standing there at the front of the room. It was only a few seconds before the spell was broken by the tumbleweed of a boy who was barrelling toward the restroom. But, in those seconds I felt like I was seeing the beginnings of who Adelade really is and who she is to be.

The next day I sat with my rowdy little class and watched them listen intently while she taught them about the hope we have in Christ. She was so sincere, so true and sure as she spoke of the love of Jesus, and I found renewed hope in my Savior just by watching what He is doing in my dear little girl.

Thirteen years old. Vacation Bible looks different now. It looks like a lanky teenager and braces and teacher break room privileges for my own little Adelade. And as her faith and understanding grows, I’m learning that a merciful by-product is the growth of my own faith and understanding, just watching in awe while Jesus forms her into a girl after his own heart.

This week she managed to meet David Platt. When she spotted him in the hallway of a huge convention center, she gasped. She literally gasped. The president of the International Mission Board was standing right in front of her. So, she smiled up at him with that silver-bracketed precious grin that turns up at the corners. They talked about seventh grade and Secret Church, and she walked away encouraged.

And tonight she came through the door with red eyes, tears still flowing as she tried to explain things that words don’t quite have the capacity to express. She had prayed over young missionaries at their commissioning service, and all the while God was speaking to her own heart. The same David Platt who had been so kind to her yesterday was now on a big platform, speaking about calling and mission and the way that the Holy Spirit will sometimes grab you so tightly that you run out of vocabulary to describe what it feels like.

And in all of this she grows. She changes in ways that I never could have predicted back on those simple summer mornings when she awoke with a grin and a VBS song in her heart. And I change, too. I learn how much more she belongs to Christ than to me. I learn to bind my wandering heart to a Savior who calls little girls and makes them courageous Christ-followers. I learn to loosen my grip on my teary-eyed, God-gripped daughter, remembering once again that God’s hand is sufficient.  I will trust His hold on us. He is good, and He is working here.

The Humbling of the SBC

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I am a Southern Baptist woman.

As a baby I toddled up and down the aisle of my parents’ little SBC church in central Texas, squealing with laughter as one church member after another held my chubby hands to steady me. I grew up there. I knew all of the best hide and seek spots in the building. I slept on the floor of the fellowship hall during G.A. sleepovers, and Jesus found me in that same room, when a traveling evangelist asked me if I could hear my shepherd’s voice. How many sweet people had poured God’s word into my hungry little soul by the time I was eight years old?

Eventually, as all kids do, I became a teenager. I spent years in Acteens reading the stories of passionate SBC missionaries. I mapped Paul’s missionary journeys on a posterboard that hung in the hallway. I went to national conventions designed specifically for Southern Baptist girls, and I loved every minute of it. The senior adults in our church encouraged me endlessly. They recognized me as a leader, and they allowed me to function as such. My junior year in high school my church hired a part-time youth minister, a young college kid, only two years older than me. We were great friends and did Christianity the best way we knew how–with gumption and passion and brokenness and gratefulness. I was never asked to be less than I was.

As a freshman in college, I found myself tasked with a strange job. My home church asked me to interview a college boy that they were considering hiring. He was two years older than me at our Baptist college, and I called him to ask if he would meet me in the cafeteria. I remember he was sitting with a group of his fraternity brothers when I walked in, and they were all wildly amused that he was being interviewed for a job by a freshman girl. My sweet church, though. They couldn’t think of any reason why I shouldn’t be the first one to vet this guy.

When I was nineteen, I stood behind the podium at that same little church, in the place where I had been so well loved and, looking out on many of the very faces who had smiled down at me when I practiced first steps up and down that long aisle, I spoke the truth of God’s word. No one was wringing their hands or glaring disapprovingly. My church wanted to see me grow and to use every ounce of ability that I had in order to glorify God within those walls and without.

I was never told that I should aspire to be a pastor. I was never told that I should be quiet. I was never asked if I fully understood complementarian roles. But, in every way in that humble church that I loved so dearly, it was made clear to me the truth of God’s word. The roles of men and women were so gracefully modeled there. Women were held in high esteem and helped run the place. Men were honorable and respected. That dear church saw value in me, and they allowed me to lead in my own ways, gently showing me the way to go according to the Scripture.

In 40 years of living I have been a part of seven Southern Baptist churches, each of them filled to the brim with kind, compassionate, godly people. What I have seen in all these years is not perfection. Far from it. Our churches are full of sins of all kinds, and so am I. We are on a steep learning curve right now in the SBC, and it is a good thing even though it hurts. We are straining to walk up this high hill of God’s good design for women, and we are woefully out of practice. In many ways we have forgotten what it looks like to hold women up, to hear their voices which are crying out in the wilderness, to value their thoughts and opinions and the wisdom they have gained through their study of God’s word. We have filled our boards and committees with men, albeit great ones, and we have entered rooms and we have closed doors to discuss sensitive women’s issues while most of the women wait outside.

The SBC is not dying. It is not facing a crisis that can’t be overcome. It is waking up from a long, fitful sleep to realize that some things are out of order, and those things can be set right by listening men and women and by the Holy Spirit of God. This is a time to be grieved by the sins we see revealed. It is a time to be cautious as we move forward, never allowing the pendulum to swing so far that we forget our strong, Biblical complementarian convictions. It is a time to be excited about the ways that God will work through humble hearts and changed attitudes. It is a time to be prayerful as hurting people are healed and as fallen leaders are reconciled to Christ. I believe all of this and more is in store for our convention. This is not a day for doom and gloom predictions or for jumping ship. It’s a day for holding on to Jesus as tightly as possible and asking Him to reveal to us our own wrong thinking and attitudes. It’s a day for humility in the SBC.

Imagine what could happen in Dallas next week if we all walked in with humble hearts, empty of all agendas other than glorifying our great God? What heights could the SBC reach on this steep climb that we’ve begun if we begged Jesus to show us where we are going astray in our own hearts and minds? There is no joy in seeing the mighty of the SBC fall. There is no joy in hearing the stories of women who have been abused or dismissed or silenced by the very men they should be able to trust for guidance and protection. But, there will be joy on the other side of this trek up the mountain. When God has changed things that we were afraid were unchangeable. When women are heard and when what they have to say is wise and changes our churches for the better. When SBC committees and boards gain more godly female representation. When women are expected to learn theology and are invited to discuss it freely. When we all grow. When we all change. I believe Southern Baptists will look back on these days as essential to our growth and flourishing. It’s gonna hurt. But, it will be worth it.

The SBC could take a few tips from the sweet church family who helped raise me. They did it with enthusiasm for who I was and excitement for who I may become. They cared for me by teaching me truth and by encouraging me to use my gifts for God’s glory. This is all any woman in the SBC really needs: open ears, open hearts, wise counsel, compassionate discipleship, and love poured out on a soul made in God’s image. Encourage women to grow, and value who they are and how they can contribute to our convention. I believe God will bless that many times over. I’m thankful for the SBC and the countless Southern Baptists who have nurtured me through the past 40 years. May God continue to humble and bless as we seek His face.

The Glorious Evolution of the Christian T-shirt: Zoe Clothing Company

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When I was a teenager in the 90s, I had a healthy collection of Christian t-shirts. I loved wearing a sermon back in those days, and in my high school super Christian zeal, the more scathing the sermon, the better. Since then Christian clothing has evolved quite a bit. The God’s Gym and Turn or Burn t-shirts have mostly been replaced by stuff that’s a little more approachable. If you’re looking for something that’s not so “Jesus is my homeboy,” I’ve got a great company to share with you that makes Christian tshirts that are fashionable and fun without being too hokey.

I have always loved the idea of wearing clothes that proclaim Christ. In our current culture, I’ve noticed more and more that when I wear clothing with scripture on it, people stop me on the street to comment about it. It’s nice to establish a connection with a Christian brother or sister just by being thoughtful about what we wear. When we go out in clothes that show some truth of God’s word, it can be a great conversation starter and a simple way to glorify God.

Zoe Clothing is more than a t-shirt company. The clothes are truly fashionable. I love the colors and patterns, and they are a little more subtle than the Jesus dabbing shirt that I saw at our local Christian bookstore this week. But, more than that, the designers and developers at Zoe are on mission to help you wear your worship. I love what the Zoe Clothing website says about their goal:

The message of Christianity is a message of life. Jesus died to transform our lives from the inside out, loving us, saving us, and setting us apart so we can live for what really matters. And as a company made up of people who have experienced this new life, we want to make sure that we’re doing what really matters. Truth matters. Beauty matters. So we’ve fused the truth of God’s Word and the beauty of thoughtful design to make clothing that matters. Nothing makes us happier than knowing that what you want to wear on the outside tells the story of your life on the inside.

Another cool thing about Zoe Clothing is that for every single item you buy, Zoe is providing 4 meals for hungry children through the Children’s Hunger Fund. Everything on the site ships for free, and everything they make is something that I would happily wear all over the place. It’s a total win-win proposition.

Here are a few of my favorites from their current collection:

This shirt is currently on sale for only $12! What??

My thirteen year old loves this one!

Currently in my closet!

They also have cool stuff for kids…

and men!

It’s a great day for Your Mom Has a Blog readers, because Zoe Clothing is offering all of you a 25% discount on your entire purchase! Just use the code Melissa at checkout. How awesome is that?

I really appreciate companies like Zoe Clothing. They could be making all kinds of cute things that have nothing to do with Jesus. They could be making a fortune instead of helping feed hungry kids. But, here they are–shining the light of Christ and helping all of us to do the same. That’s the kind of company I want to support. And these are the kinds of things I want my family to wear. Now go and get you some! The coupon code is good through the month of June!

Find the shirt I’m wearing here! Thanks to the Zoe team for sending me some goodies!

 

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