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Don’t Waste Your Talent

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In church we like to talk a lot about spiritual gifts. All kinds of spiritual gift inventories are available online, but I remember taking one with a paper booklet and answer sheet when I was in the youth group in the 90s. Pastors often encourage us to use these gifts for the good of the church and the kingdom of God, as we should. When we use our spiritual gifts we help to build up and strengthen the body of Christ, and we help fulfill our role in that body by doing the things that we are well-equipped to do.

But, God also gifts us with talents. Our talents can help us to carry out our spiritual gifts, but they are different from spiritual gifts in most cases. For instance, you may have a talent for golf. Golf isn’t a spiritual gift, but playing golf with a friend who is feeling down or lonely can help you use your gift of encouragement. Maybe you have a real talent for cooking, baking, or decorating. While none of these are spiritual gifts, they can help you exercise a gift of hospitality.

The question is: are you wasting your talent?

God gives us talent so that we can use it to bring glory to His name. There are a million different ways that this can be accomplished, but none of those ways will work if you neglect your talent. If you become lazy or apathetic about the abilities that God has gifted you with, then your talent, meant for His glory, is going to waste. Maybe you have a gift for writing, but writing is hard, so you don’t do it much anymore. Maybe you are a singer, but you don’t get as many solos as you would like so you would rather not sing. Maybe you are an organizer but someone criticized the way you did something once, so you quit trying to use your ability. Maybe you feel underappreciated or underachieving, so you mostly just leave your talent on the shelf. You are wasting what God has given you.

Maybe you don’t believe your talent is useful in bringing glory to Christ. Remember the story of a little seamstress in Joppa? (Acts 9) Tabitha was a widow who knew how to sew. It’s not like that was a rare talent in her day. Every woman knew how to sew. But, Tabitha used her ability to provide clothing for widows and orphans all over her town. She had a well-developed ministry that brought glory to the Lord just because she had a vision for how she could use what she was good at to minister to those in need. She was so influential in her community through her sewing ministry that when she died her mourning friends sent word to Peter, and he came and raised her from the dead. After that happened, the Bible says that many came to know Christ, all because a little widow chose to use her talent.

There is no such thing as an insufficient gift from God. Whatever your talent, there are ways to use it to bring glory to Christ. Just ask the jump rope champion that travels all over the world teaching kids about Christ while he does jump rope tricks. Ask the flower-arranging employee in the craft store who told me she creates beautiful things because beauty brings glory to God. Ask the nursery worker who has an amazing ability to calm down the fussiest babies so that their mamas can worship the Creator of the Universe.

Maybe you are using your talent, but you are using it in ways that don’t bring glory to Jesus. You may have the “gift of gab” and make friends easily, but if you are using your words to gossip or tear others down, you’re wasting your talent. If you are great at making and managing money but you are stingy with what you have, then you are wasting your talent. If you have a rare ability to think deeply and operate on a high intellectual plane, yet you never dwell on God’s word and who He really is, then you are wasting the brain power that God has given you.

We all have so much more to offer to the kingdom. Let’s not neglect the opportunity that we have to use what God has given us. We should be working to develop our talents, to improve and be even better equipped to use our abilities for His glory and for the church’s good. Erma Bombeck wrote: When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, “I used everything you gave me.” What if we all made this our goal? No more talent lying dormant in the Christian’s life–just a joyful exercising of the good gifts and abilities that God has blessed us with. Even a meager talent can have an eternal impact when Christ is involved. We have no way of knowing what He will do through us if only we have willing hearts and open hands, giving all that He has given us back to Him.

For the Love of Discipline: Sara Wallace and Parenting Through the Gospel

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Sara Wallace is a church planting pastor’s wife and a mother of five (!) little boys. When she writes about parenting, I sit up and listen because she has great ideas for helping kids learn the power of the gospel through discipline. She recently did a social media parenting series, and I’m here to tell you that her strategies are thoughtful and they work! I’m happy to welcome her to the blog today to introduce you to her upcoming book. You can catch Sara at her blog, The Gospel-Centered Mom.

Dear Tired, Worn-Out Mom Who Hates Discipline: You’re Not Alone.

“I’m doing it wrong. This isn’t working.”

From the moment we hold our sweet babies in our arms these thoughts waste no time creeping in. I remember having these thoughts when I first started nursing and the first time I buckled a floppy newborn into a car seat. They haunted me during sleep training, potty-training, and picking gum out of toddler hair.

All of those things have a way of eventually working themselves out. We survive, life moves on. But when it comes to discipline, those thoughts don’t want to let go. “I’m doing it wrong. This isn’t working.” Perhaps that’s because nothing brings out our frustration and doubts about our parenting like discipline. We know we’re supposed to be training these little hearts, but we didn’t expect it to be so hard.  

I clearly remember a day that I disciplined my three-year-old for throwing a toy in anger. I told him to sit on his bed and think about what we learned about self-control. Situation over, discipline nailed. Right? Not so much. He turned around and said, “No. I will NOT think about ANYTHING.”

Oh, boy. I realized then and there that discipline is not something I can check off my to-do list. It’s an inseparable part of daily parenting – whether I like it or not. After having five boys in exactly seven years, I realized discipline was a train I was not getting off anytime soon.

But at the same time God began showing me that that’s a good thing. I not only want to stay on this train, I want to ride it all the way to its final destination: my kids’ hearts. Discipline allows me to connect with my kids in a personal, precious way. Most importantly, discipline lays the foundation for teaching my kids the gospel.

And now I want to come alongside you parents with a personal and embarrassingly raw account of what God has taught me about the “D” word. What does discipline have to do with the gospel? Theology is wonderful—but how does it help me with my screaming two-year-old in the middle of WalMart? How do we strike the balance between too much discipline and too little, especially when we are exhausted and discouraged?

I didn’t write this book because discipline comes naturally to me. I wrote it because my kid pushed your kid into the pool at swim lessons. I wrote it because last week I had to leave the grocery store early when my kids were wrestling in the aisles. And I wrote it because discipline seems exhausting and discouraging only when we leave out the most important ingredient: the gospel.

If you’re looking for a formula that will turn disobedient kids into perfect little angels, you won’t find it. God doesn’t give us a formula. He gives us principles. The Holy Spirit gives us wisdom to use those principles to point our kids to Christ. When your kids disobey, they are telling you something. Strain your ears to hear past the tantrums, the rebellious stomping, and the disrespectful tone. They are saying, “Mom . . . I don’t know how to obey on my own. Can you help me?”

This is our time. This is our chance to point our kids to the only thing that matters: the gospel. God has given us the task of discipline not just so we can survive today but to lead our kids to the cross. Discipline is a beautiful privilege and I want to show you how to find joy in it. There is so much more to discipline than creative strategies, checklists, and behavior management. There’s Jesus.

For the Love of Discipline: When the Gospel Meets Tantrums and Time-Outs will be released April 30th. Preorder yours on Amazon today!

Sara Wallace is a wife, author, and stay-at-home mom. She and her family live in Idaho where they minister in their church plant and homeschool their five little boys. Sara loves to cook, decorate her home, and write about the crazy blessing of parenting. 

The Women of T4G

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Thanks to our amazing church, Chad and I are enjoying the week at the Together for the Gospel Conference in Louisville. It’s been amazing. Every single session has fascinated and excited us, and we feel so privileged to be here as first-time attendees. We’ve made new friends and have been reminded that God is working everywhere, not just in our little Texas town. The rooms are filled with like-minded Christian people, and there’s an excited and happy buzz in every corner of the arena as little groups circle up and talk about Jesus, about our churches, about what God is doing and how can be a part of it.

I am in the minority here, as demonstrated by the fact that most of the women’s restrooms have been highjacked so that 10,000 men will have someplace to go potty. Among those at the conference, fewer than 2,000 of us are women. I suppose there is some sense in me that we have crashed the men’s theology party, but it has been a pure blessing to be here, to stand in a huge arena, silent and still while men worship at the top of their voices in stereo in front, behind, and all around me. It’s truly a sound to behold, and just listening to them reminds me that there are godly men everywhere that we can depend on: clear-thinking, tuned-in, humble and sincere leaders with sound theology in their hearts and minds.

I say that I wonder if we women are crashing the party, but no man here has treated me as such. Everyone I’ve met has been kind, gracious, encouraging, and interested in me as a thinking Christian. I am not opposed to conferences where men and women are segregated, but I am in favor of women being encouraged to attend conferences where real theology is taught. Where real church issues are discussed. So if any man were to begin to grow disappointed that women are expressing an interest in being a part of these things, I would ask him to stop and consider how dramatically our families and world will be changed when women are being taught something deeper than the importance of being able to set a nice table. Most women’s conferences have nothing at all to do with theology, while today I sat and listened to Kevin DeYoung teach for an hour about the immutability of God. There is a huge gulf between the theological learning opportunities for women and those for men.

All of that to say that I’m deeply grateful that this week I have watched young women swaying back and forth with their babies held close, listening as God’s word is opened by great and knowledgeable men. These mothers need a good theology in order to do their job well. They need sound doctrine if they are going to raise children in our times who have a true and lasting idea of how great our God really is. I’m grateful that the leaders of T4G have the wisdom to welcome us into this world of discussions that have nothing at all to do with sending Christmas cards or finding our “true beauty” or any of the other tedious topics that are often the focus of women’s conferences.

To the women of T4G, don’t worry about the lack of bathrooms. Bathroom locations sometimes change. But, as we learned today, our good and gracious God never will. Glory to His name forever and ever.

A Stranger’s Gift

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This weekend Sawyer went to state Bible drill competition. For those of you who aren’t Baptist, Bible drill is an awesome and terrifying competition where kids as young as fourth grade memorize 25 scripture verses and figure out how to locate ten key passages and all the books of the Bible in under ten seconds. It’s one of the most intense things that I’ve ever watched my kids do, but I love hearing my ten year old rattle off one scripture after another.

Sawyer isn’t one who loves being singled out in front of a crowd, so when he is called on in competition, his answers come at just above a whisper. As intense as it is for me, it is so much more for him, as he stands there, red-faced, trying to get his fingers to move fast enough to find what he’s looking for.

He did amazing at the state level. He had a perfect drill up until the last and most difficult section, which is the key passages. When he didn’t find the first one in time, I saw his eyes fill with tears. He was trying so hard to hold it together, but he was bitterly disappointed that he wasn’t going to get a perfect score. By the time the competition was over, his tears were flowing freely, and all of the sweet families from our church who were there with their own children were hugging and encouraging and consoling him.

I stood beside him, feeling so sorry for this child who had just stood up and done something that I couldn’t have done in a million years. I was contemplating how he was feeling, how I could make him feel better, and I was firmly focused on this moment that was playing out in front of me: my little boy, crushed, embarrassed, pained.

Then a stranger walked up to him. She was a blonde woman, a motherly type. She was small, but carried herself with an air of purpose. She put her hands on both of Sawyer’s shoulders and looked him in the face. Listen, she said. This was about God’s glory. And you glorified God tonight. 

Just like that, her words gave me spiritual vision that I hadn’t had a moment earlier. I realized that I wasn’t seeing this experience through spiritual eyes, but through temporal ones, and when she spoke to Sawyer she helped me to see the bigger picture of this moment. We all need eternal perspective. We need to remember how our everyday experiences fit into God’s greater plan. And, this kind stranger spoke the truth that helped me to shift my focus–she saw things through a biblical lens, and she helped me to look through it with her.

Sawyer dried his tears. He seemed satisfied with the thought of glorifying His God, the author of the very Bible that he has spent so much time studying. I wonder if he realized that he had been given the gift of a shift in spiritual perspective. I hope her words will stick with him and that he will understand that he can glorify God with his one-decade-long life. I watched him do it on Friday night. And I almost missed it.

I have thought a lot about that little blonde-haired stranger since then. I want to be the type of person who so clearly sees things with eternal perspective that when I speak it will help others to have spiritual eyesight. I want to be so Christ-focused that I recognize the spiritual significance of what I’m seeing from day to day. And I especially want to be a mother and a wife who helps her family to realize that there are plenty of things about life that will try to distract us, even our own sympathies and fix-it-now attitudes. But, in the end, it isn’t about us or our feelings about things or even our good deeds. Sawyer could have gotten a perfect score that night, but it would have been a complete waste if someone hadn’t reminded him of this truth: it’s all about God’s glory.

I’m grateful that God gives us a place in His story. That He gives us the opportunity to glorify Him with our lives in big and small ways. I know He was pleased when a sweet freckle-faced ten year old turned three shades of red in Allen, Texas, on Friday night. All for God’s glory.

I see it now.

Your Body is a Temple, Not an Idol

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Today I ran across an article about how science has now supposedly proven what the most attractive body type is. I clicked over, hoping that we have finally started moving back toward pale and chunky, like the objects of beauty in the paintings from the Renaissance. Imagine my disappointment when I realized that the article was comparing women who are thin vs. women who are thin who also have muscles. By the way, thin, muscular women are supposedly the ideal body type. Apparently now just being thin isn’t enough.

Those types of articles are poison to our hearts and minds.

I’ve heard it said that an idol is anything that you love more than you love God. But, have you ever considered that an idol can also be something that you think about more than you think about God? Even if it’s something that you hate? I wonder how many women out there, if we really admit it, spend a large portion of every day obsessing about the way we look? How many times a day do you have a hateful thought about some body part you despise? How often do you long for a body or face like someone else? Have you ever, like me, left the house for church on Sunday morning completely crushed by the feeling that you are not attractive enough?

Or maybe you are on the other side of things. Maybe you love your body so much that you show it off at every opportunity. Maybe it is what defines who you are in your mind. Maybe you love your face so much that you spend large chunks of your day taking selfies so that you can get the approval of the world on social media.

How can we not see that we are idolizing our bodies?

It must be one of hell’s favorite ways to make us spiritually blind. Because here is the truth about an obsession with appearance: it doesn’t just shift our focus from our spiritual condition to our physical. It also changes the way we see other people. Suddenly we aren’t looking at the people around us with spiritual eyes. We are thinking about their size or their skin or their hair. We’re playing a constant game of comparison, and we can begin despising those that we feel have been physically blessed. Instead of seeing them for who they are, we see them for what they wear and how long their eyelashes are and how they never struggle with acne and how they seem to be able to eat whatever they want. And there is no spiritual goodness in that. There is no love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, or self-control in that. There is only pettiness and a brand of judgment that de-values humanity.

What more could Satan want in the women of Christ?

Let’s be brutally honest. At the heart of an obsession with our bodies is the desire to make women jealous and men lustful. I know we don’t want to hear it, but that is the basic truth of the situation. We want to be admired and adored and honored and we want the head seat at the banquet table, and isn’t that what all sin really comes down to? A desire to steal as much glory as we can? It began with the very first sin in the garden, when Eve realized that what she really wanted was to be God’s equal.

In 1 Corinthians 6, Paul warns against sexual immorality, and then he drops this truth that should bring us to our knees:  Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies. (v.20-21)

Why in the world do we pine for the fleeting power that comes with physical beauty when we have the eternal and perfect power of the Holy Spirit inside these shells? When we obsess about our appearance, when we waste heart space longing to look like someone else, when we starve ourselves and punish ourselves and hate ourselves because we don’t meet some arbitrary standard, and even when we desperately try to maintain a beauty that the Bible clearly tells us is temporary, we are not honoring God with our bodies. We are like the Pharisees, honoring God with our lips when our hearts are far from Him. (Matt. 15:8)

We should strive to look and feel our best. But, the endless soundtrack that we keep playing to ourselves? The one that says if we aren’t beautiful we don’t matter? The one that says that God bestows beauty on some and not on others because He is cruel? The one that wishes God had done a little bit better job of forming us? The one that causes us to resent women who have more of what we want? It is killing our spiritual growth. It is blocking our spiritual vision. And, it is making us fear the world more than we fear God.

Jesus came to this earth a humble servant. He could have chosen any body, any face. He could have been born as a beautiful little baby who grew into a movie star of a man. He could have given Himself those piercing blue eyes that we see in paintings. He could have had gorgeous hair and a chiseled face, and He could have caused people to swoon every place He went.  But, the Bible tells us that He had no beauty or majesty that would draw people to Him. (Isaiah 53:2) He was an ordinary looking guy. Or maybe He was even considered physically unattractive. It wasn’t His face that He wanted people to remember. It was the glory of God. His only concern was bringing glory to the Father.

We have the same glorifying power living inside these imperfect bodies today. Instead of spending all day thinking about how we wish we were seen by physical eyes, we should begin praying that no one will remember a thing about our physical appearance once we’re gone–that they will only remember the God-glorifying light that pours out of us everywhere we go, unfettered by our former obsession with ourselves.

You Don’t Have to Give Your Kid a Phone

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“My daughter is thirteen years old, and she doesn’t have a cell phone.”

I said those words from the platform at a women’s event and was surprised at the sharp intake of breath all over the room.  I am not naive enough to think that my daughter isn’t a bit of an anomaly. I know that most kids her age are already well versed in the ways of social media, texting, and the big world that a cell phone provides. I know that when she leaves school for the day, dozens of conversations are happening via Instagram, Snapchat, and text that she isn’t privvy to and that she doesn’t ever learn about, except when they are hinted at at the lunch table, where she simply smiles and nods even though she is probably somewhat lost as to what ideas transpired between her friends at ten o’clock the night before.

But, it does surprise me to learn that many parents feel that they don’t have the option to hold off on providing a cell phone for their kids. The day that I made my shocking confession, the attitude of the fellow moms in the room seemed to be: You can DO that?

Why yes, you can.

And I would argue that in most cases you should.

Now, before you start thinking that our children are living in the dark ages, we do have electricity and running water. And our two older kids have iPods. They don’t have internet access or texting privileges with their friends, but they are allowed to FaceTime and text their grandparents and cousins.  They play games on their iPods and make movies and learn to take and edit photos and generally get a lot of fun benefits of technology through their devices. I’m not anti-technology. But, I am a believer in the benefits of sheltering my kids from social media and unfettered internet access. Yes, I said sheltering. Contrary to popular opinion, kids do need sheltering from some things.

A few days ago a couple of moms with younger kids asked me about our oldest’s cell phone, and when I told them that she doesn’t have one they said, “We were hoping you could tell us how you navigate the whole technology and social media world with your kids.” So, this post isn’t really for the parents whose kids already have a phone, although I hope that it will help you think through some of the issues associated with phone use. It’s for those of you who are wondering how you are going to approach this subject with your kids when they get older. Essentially, I’m going to explain some reasons that Chad and I have decided to delay our kids’ access to phones.

1. The Internet is a huge world full of strangers who can step into your home without your invitation.

Many times we have a false sense of security about the internet. We think of it as a tool when the reality is that it is an enormous collection of people that we do not know. I would never encourage my kids to go find a stranger at the grocery store and hang out in a private room with him, but in many cases this is what the internet leads our kids to do. It can be a very dangerous place where predators and people with bad intentions can learn all kinds of information about our kids. It can be a place where people we don’t know can have tremendous influence over our kids’ thinking and feelings.

When we present phones to our kids, we expect them to try to navigate this complicated online world before they have the cognitive abilities to make sound decisions. Studies show that their brains are literally underdeveloped in terms of decision-making until they are around age 25. So, imagine how inept a fifth or sixth grader’s brain is at understanding how to react to the various situations that could arise in the huge internet world filled with strangers.

2. The internet is a big world of people your child knows who can step into your home without your invitation.

When you are a middle schooler, no world seems bigger than the one you’re living through in the seventh or eighth grade. Phones allow that world to have access to kids 24 hours a day. I like the fact that my home is a sanctuary for my kids. The only kids allowed within these walls are those kids that I invite, and that is important for the mental and emotional health of my children.

If they were to have a terrible problem with someone at school, if they had an issue with a bully or a group of “friends” who has suddenly turned on them, if something embarrassing were to happen at school that day, my kids know that when they walk to my car as the bell rings, they are free from all of that, at least until the next morning when they set foot back on campus. They don’t have to worry about the bullying following them home. They don’t have to worry about receiving mean texts or having someone post something horrible on their social media accounts.

Even if there are no issues at school, if there is absolutely no drama happening, I enjoy knowing that school and daytime hours are for friends and after school and nighttime hours are for our family. Your child’s time at home needs more protecting than you probably realize. Constant socializing on the internet is leading to all kinds of problems in kids, including lack of sleep, depression, and even suicidal thoughts. They don’t need constant connection with everyone. They need a real connection with their family at the end of each day. Phones make that harder to accomplish.

3. The internet encourages kids to brand themselves.

I’m always running across funny collections of terribly photo-shopped pictures that teenagers have put on the internet. It makes us laugh, but the truth is that kids feel pressure to create a certain image of themselves on social media. It’s the same reason that so many take and post ten selfies a day. They are looking for approval and are trying to build a brand. They want their name to be associated with beauty or fitness or sexiness or casual coolness or whatever it is that they think will gain them likes and followers and the attention that they crave.

For kids, the work of figuring out who they are and who they are striving to be is only complicated by social media. They can become obsessed with themselves, their image, their approval ratings. And the last thing a middle schooler needs help with is being obsessed with herself. Delaying the dive into social media gives kids a chance to grow an understanding that the internet is not real life. It can be a fun place to play, but not a place to live. And if we give our kids more time to develop a real sense of themselves, of who they are and what their own standards are, then they are less likely to become obsessed with how they are seen on social media. They won’t see themselves as a brand but as an authentic person who is much more than a one dimensional image on a screen.

4. The internet is where porn lives.

It practically goes without saying that pornography is a huge issue with phones, and one that isn’t taken seriously enough. Some studies now suggest that the average age of first exposure to porn is nine years old. Third grade. I’m in no rush to put that industry into the hands of my children, even with filters and accountability software, especially since pornographers are actively targeting kids to ensure that their industry continues to thrive. Pornography addiction deeply affects the brain, body, heart and spirit, and phones are the easiest way for the industry to reach kids, either through their own phones or through someone else’s.

There are so many other issues that I haven’t touched on here, but these are a few of the reasons that Chad and I are waiting to provide a phone to our oldest daughter. I don’t know when we will feel that the time has come, but I pray that she will have time to grow in Christ, learning her own heart and mind, before she delves into the social media realm. I pray that she will develop decision-making skills that will help her not to be enticed by requests for photos. That will give her wisdom that keeps her from texting things about people that she will later regret. I pray that she will learn to be led by the Spirit instead of being led by an obsession with self or an obsession with the approval of others.

I know many of you reading this have given your kids phones and have done so with great foresight and discernment. I know that many of you have safeguards in place and monitor your child’s phone usage and are beautifully navigating the internet world with your kids. Those of us who aren’t there yet will need lots of guidance from you.

To those who have younger kids, I ask you to consider some of my reasons for holding off on giving our kids phones. You don’t have to hand your child a phone just because others do. I’m convinced there are great benefits in waiting until kids have matured a little, have grown in their relationship with Christ a little more, have a firmer grasp of who they are and what they believe, before they really need to be grappling with the complicated world of the internet. Life is simpler without that constant din of the world in your kid’s pocket. I’m in no rush to invite the noise in.

The Long Drive Home

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She was the kind of girl who always said the wrong thing. She tried to claw her way into the popular crowd, in her de-clawed, shy kitten sort of way. It was high school in the early nineties, and we were all just doing the best we could with the very little that we knew about being teenagers. It felt like none of us really had a clue as to what kind of reaction we would get when we opened our mouths to speak, and we continually tested out all of the different ways to be, a petri dish of social experimentation in small town America.

I was no different. Predictably labeled the “goody two-shoes” of the school, I don’t remember being particularly kind or thoughtful. She was new to our school, and when the popular crowd rejected her she turned to me, and I invited her to come to some sort of youth group event with my church. I don’t remember where we went or what else happened that night, but I remember feeling like I was being mean to her. Somehow she was just such an easy target. She kept saying things that were ridiculous. I kept setting her straight. In the back of a dark church van I, the oldest leader of the youth group, sat with a crowd gathered round me while I ungraciously showed everyone all of the ways that a Christian shouldn’t be.

And then, somewhere along the way, on a long Texas road, her expression changed, and she asked me in all sincerity how to become a Christian. Imagine how my heart stopped for a moment while I realized that after my poor treatment of this girl all night long, I was the last person who should be trying to share the gospel with her. I had misrepresented Christ and refused to see this girl through spiritual eyes, and so I stumbled through a weak explanation of how Jesus changes us. I sat there in front of her, changed, knowing that I had acted all night like I never met Jesus before in my life.

And I was crushed.

I was a high schooler. I had so much to learn about Christianity. And even though I don’t remember much about my high school years, this was one of those rare moments when God was dealing with me so closely and so clearly that it cut me all the way to my immature little soul. I loved Him so. Yet, I was only beginning the sometimes painful process of being refined and sanctified by my gracious God. And in His goodness He has never let me forget the way I felt that night in a church van, as the passing interstate lights played across the face of a girl who was turning to me, of all people, for gospel truth.

I hope I have grown since then. But, I often find myself wondering if the woman from the insurance company who has put me on hold (again) could turn to me for the gospel. Am I treating her in a way that wouldn’t make me blush with shame if she asked me about my Jesus? When the fast food restaurant gets half of the order wrong and I am already running late, am I reacting in a way that would make me feel good about proclaiming that I am a child of God? After all of these long years of being molded and changed and taught by the Holy Spirit, I still have a hard time seeing those around me through spiritual eyes. I still fail to remember that they are souls, not just representatives of a company. Not just school teachers. Not just mamas or mechanics or police officers. Not just kids on the playground who aren’t treating one of my babies right. Not just awkward high school girls who always seem to say the wrong thing. Souls, one and all.

Paul said that we need to preach the word, being prepared in season and out of season. Part of that preparation is simply seeing the people around us. Really seeing them as needy sinners like ourselves. How else can we “reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching”? The simple answer is that we can’t. Not effectively. Not if we are seeing people as nothing more than characters to be dealt with. But if we open our eyes to the spiritual needs around us, it will change the way we treat everyone that we come into contact with. And then we will really be prepared to talk about the gospel at any time.

I don’t know what happened to the girl from the back of the van that night so many years ago. I pray that Jesus rescued her. I’m thankful I can see her face in my mind today, a reminder of how much I still have to learn, twenty-something years later. I’m not ashamed of the gospel, but will I be ashamed of myself when a gospel moment arises?

Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage–with great patience and careful instruction. 2 Timothy 4:2

When God Calls You to Nowhere

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For eighteen days I have been in my house, fighting off multiple illnesses in my three children. It has been an unprecedented experience, unequaled in all of my years of motherhood, and I’m ready for its end. It’s been a crazy flu year in Texas. Otherwise healthy, strong, young people have died due to complications, and I have spent all of February watching my kids carefully, waking up multiple times a night to check on whichever one I felt was most likely to be dying. It has been exhausting and stressful and has brought me to my knees more than once.

As I write this I still have one here with me, the second one to get the dreaded flu, which was followed by a sinus infection, which was followed by what the doctor believes is another round of a different strain of the flu. It’s been so rampant here that the clinic and hospital are out of flu screens, so we can only guess as to which virus has struck her down again. It all sounds very dramatic, but in truth this entire month has been spent playing a million rounds of Uno, watching a zillion movies that star preteens, and scrounging for food in a nearly bare refrigerator. In short, the month of February has completely passed me by.

The fact is that I had big plans for my month. I was going to get a lot of writing accomplished. I was going to keep regular work hours and really dig into some projects and enter March feeling like I had done some good thinking, some good writing, making good progress on the things I feel like God is calling me to do. I didn’t do any of that.

But it isn’t because I haven’t been fulfilling my calling.

Proverbs 16:9 tell us that in her heart a woman may plan her course, but the Lord determines her steps. I thought my big work for the month of February would be related to my writing, but God reminded me in the past 18 days that I have been blessed with the privilege of being Adelade, Sawyer, and Emerald’s only mother. And, that is the ultimate calling in this phase of my life. It is a job that will chew you up and spit you out, that will leave you weeping from exhaustion, that will cause you to wring your hands when the coughing won’t stop, that will find you sneaking into rooms just to count the number of breaths that a child is taking. February has been long and trying and has caused me to lean heavily on my Savior, has forced me to pray for my children with a passion that I sometimes lack, has helped me to see that sometimes big work is little: drinks of water in a special princess cup, lists of medicine schedules, letting snuggly children cough in your face.

The Lord determines our steps, and this month they went a whole bunch of nowhere. Yet, somehow I found my Jesus there, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the mess, in the middle of the great honor and blessing of motherhood. The hardest days are the ones that drive me straight into His arms. And that is never a bad thing. I’m thankful that’s where He’s led me in the month of February. Maybe in March He’ll let me go to the grocery store.

He is so good to show Himself to me during flu season and during every season. His love never changes, never stops reaching for us, never gives up on us in our busy-ness. I am so grateful for the calling of being a mother, for the calling of being a wife, for the calling of being a writer. I trust His timing and His plan for all the seasons, flu or otherwise. He is good, and I love Him more at February’s end than I did at its beginning. He is love, He is healing, and He is peace.

What I Didn’t See

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I recently went to a women’s event where a well-dressed and put-together woman sat beside me. We exchanged pleasantries and as we talked I began to build a narrative in my head about the kind of life she has led. Based on her appearance, I decided that she has enjoyed a privileged existence–after all, all I really saw was a designer handbag, expensive clothes, manicured hands, and well-appointed hair and makeup. Honestly, I thought very little about her soul as we talked. I imagined that she is a little out of touch and maybe sort of clueless about what “regular” people face on a day-to-day basis. I judged that she is safely sheltered inside a world that doesn’t deal in tragedy or heartbreak or struggle.

As the event ended, she said a warm goodbye and I watched her walk away. My perception was set: she was nice, but probably had little understanding of the world most people operate within. I moved on and began chatting with others.  Then somehow in a tearful conversation about raising our children, someone mentioned to me that this woman who had been sitting next to me had buried a little child not so long ago. She had watched her adorable son die. She had suffered along with him and probably wanted to die, too. She had made funeral arrangements and stood next to the gaping grave of her baby. I pictured her there, dressed in black. In unimaginable pain. In unbearable agony. Saying goodbye to her precious child.

What difference does it make how much her black dress cost or whose name was in the label?

I was so ashamed of myself for making judgments about what her faith has endured just because she had expensive clothes on. And, as I stood there, dumbfounded, I realized that I do this all the time. I size people up based on their appearance, and I decide what kind of faith experience they have had. I decide what they have endured and what they understand about life. I don’t know why I would ever do such a thing, knowing as I do how easy it can be to hide pain and heartbreak behind pressed clothes and styled hair. How many times have I stood in church and heard stories that I can never forget? Stories about how Jesus sustains us through all kinds of tragedy and pain, stories about how life really does go on because it has to. Stories about how no amount of money in the world will make a broken heart whole again.

The truth is that we have no clue what people have gone through in this life. Maybe instead of assuming I know what a woman’s life has been like, I should assume that I don’t know. I should assume that her faith has endured things that I couldn’t even imagine. And then maybe I would be more likely to see her as a soul instead of a fashion plate. As a fearfully and wonderfully made vision of God Himself, created in His image, and designed to glorify Him with her whole life.

I’ve thought about that well-dressed mama many times since that day. I have prayed that God would bring her comfort and peace. I have wondered how often it comes up in conversation, the terrible fact that she has buried a child. I have prayed that I would be one who sees her and others like her as precious souls and not as objects of speculation and judgment.

We are so much more than we appear. Take this difficult lesson of mine to heart: it doesn’t matter if a person is wearing designer clothes or sweatpants, if they appear clean or dirty, if they are educated or barely read and write. Every person is made in the image of our good and gracious God. And every person needs to be seen, soul-deep, and not just looked at.

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