The Manna Jar and Goodbye!

Christmas Greetings to you, my wonderful friends here at the Internet Café.

Today is my last post at the Café as the Lord has opened a new door for me to walk through in His service. I am excited about the future Kingdom work at hand and also sad that I will not meet you here twice a month.

I cannot adequately express the love I have in my heart for each of you. Your words of wisdom and encouragement you have shared with me over the months are a priceless gift. It has been a profound privilege to share the hope we have in Christ with one another.

As I leave you I want to share a post I wrote last year. I opened my Manna Jar today and was blessed beyond measure. It is my prayer, you will open your own Manna Jar in a year from now and see how perfectly the Lord Jesus Christ has moved in your life.

The Manna Jar

Do you know what the people of Israel kept in the Ark of the Covenant? Hebrews 9:4 This ark contained the gold jar of manna, Aaron’s staff that had budded, and the stone tablets of the covenant.

It contained manna that was made into bread and sent from heaven to feed the Israelites as they traveled in the wilderness. God provided this sweet tasting bread every day with the early morning dew. Exodus 16 is a rich story of God’s faithfulness and provision. I hope you have time to read it this week.

Moses said, “This is what the LORD has commanded: ‘Take an omer of manna and keep it for the generations to come, so they can see the bread I gave you to eat in the desert when I brought you out of Egypt.’

Did you know that God’s people are a forgetful lot? He knew the Israelites would quickly forget the divinely provided daily bread. It is also true of us today we are a forgetful lot! Our memory fades over time and we no longer are convinced it was God talking with us softly in the pre-dawn light months ago. We fail to remember it was God’s provision when our spouse lost his job. When a friend arrives to pray at the precise moment we feel overwhelmed by circumstances. We stop thinking about the scripture passage which brought new hope or a new direction.

John 10:10a The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. The enemy lurks in the shadows to steal our memories of Kingdom experiences. He will do everything in his power to cause doubt. —Did I really hear from God? Did I only imagine His presence. Was it just a coincidence or did God provide for our bills last year when my husband lost his job?

Are you surprised we can forget Godly encounters? God is not. In the Old Testament, altars were constructed to mark significant events in which God provided. They were visible reminders of His faithfulness. Altars were also used as object lessons for the children, to teach God’s provision and presence in their lives. God knows our feeble memory fails. He command the altars made to remember Him. (Genesis 8:20; Genesis 12:7 Exodus 17:15; Joshua 4:4-7; etc.)

We need our memories of past encounters with God. Remembering what God has done in the past, gives us hope for the future.

This year I will not surrender my memories made with Christ. I have my own manna jar. I have labeled it: encouragement, love, laughter, memories, and hope. It is a glass Mason jar. I can easily see the items inside.

Things I hope to place inside are:

Scripture verses which significantly impact my life
Photo of a friend who was Jesus to me
Clippings from a blog that enriched my relationship with Christ
A dried flower; I talk to God early in the garden
A penny to remind me of a senseless act of kindness I offered to a stranger
Each encounter with God I will remember with a spiritual marker, a token, placed in my manna jar.

I want to remember my experiences with God this year, the next, and the next. One day I want to share them with my grandchildren.
I have a manna jar.
Lord our God, You never forget us. Thank you for the memories we have of your divine and miraculous presence in our lives. Thank you for the future memories we will make together. In Jesus name, Amen.

Today I placed my first memory-clipping inside. I can’t wait to see what will be in the jar at the end of the year.

Start your manna jar today and imagine the amazing memories you will place there?



I would love to visit with you over at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Ambassadors of Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!
Wow, these two simple words have created a furor this year. I have read posts online and a few things in the paper about how this phrase has become politically incorrect in the retail marketplace.

I wondered what would happen to me if I spoke these words in public. Well, I decided to put this phrase to my own test. So my daughter and I set out on our test adventure earlier this week. Our first stop was the local Mall in our Southern California town. I knew if I were to meet opposition to this greeting, I would surely find it here in my home state of California where political correctness is, ahem, overdone.

Onward with the story. My daughter and I purchased a gift for my sister at the first retailer. “Merry Christmas,” I said as I pick up my bag and receipt.

The associate looked up at me and smiled, then replied, “Merry Christmas.”

Hmmm, I think that went pretty well. No surprises there just a warm smile.

At the second retailer my daughter and I enjoyed the same experience. In fact, as we concluded each of our purchases, I would say to the sales associate, "Merry Christmas." A smile was always the result. The counterperson would pause, look up, grin, and repeat “Merry Christmas."

With most of our shopping complete, we stopped at our last destination, a large book retailer, we needed gift cards. The sales clerk who helped us was a delightful young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. We chatted as she worked on the gift cards. With the transaction concluded, I gathered my receipt and said, “Merry Christmas.”

The poor girl looked up with full attention on me. She made a quick step back from the counter staring at me. Autopilot kicked in at that second and she quickly replied, “Merry Christmas.”

I watched her face as she disengaged from autopilot and processed my words. Her shoulders hunched up and she held her hands out from her sides. She looked like a kid feigning innocence while caught red-handed sneaking an extra cookie from the cookie jar. She offered me a sheepish smile then boldly said,

“Happy Chrismahanakwanzaaikuh.”

Say what?

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. I hadn't heard this phrase before and it was hilarious. My daughter started to giggle. The sales associate who was working next to my window started to laugh and the young woman who wished me Happy Chrismahanakw….. (whatever) joined in.

Then the adorable young woman cocked her head to the side and said, “Well, I don’t want to offend anyone.” We laughed all the harder. The store was in hysterics. My daughter and I laughed all the way to the car and I’m still laughing at the silliness of it all.

What a hoot!

No one was offended and everyone enjoyed a loud and hearty laugh that morning.

This exchange made me think how cool it is to be a Christian. It ROCKS to interact with people. Although corporate execs may fear these two simple words, Merry Christmas, I think of them as a gift of our faith. As Christians, we know the meaning of the season. Perhaps through sharing our joy with the world, we can make this CHRISTmas season a little brighter, a little kinder, and reveal Jesus, the true source of our joy.

Between now and December 25th, I plan to wish everyone I see, a Merry Christmas. Who knows what joyful surprises await?

“Merry Christmas.”

Luke (KJV) 2:10-14
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 14Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.



I would love to visit with you over at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Dead-End Street

A Dead-End....

…Divorce…

…Failed adoption…

…Lost job…

…Friendship betrayed…

…Circumstances…

…Cancer…

Arrival on: Dead End Street
This is a familiar road to me, perhaps to you as well. We arrive in this desolate place by many different vehicles and at various speeds.

I have ambled down this road in a slow, painful progression, via a loss of a friendship. I have slammed into the road sign, leaving it flat on the pavement, after screeching to a halt. I look around bewildered at my arrival once again. Pride usually facilities this crash. I have followed Christ, with absolute certainty of His leading, only to take up residence once again next to the familiar roadblock because I didn’t trust Him completely.

Arrival on Dead-End Street brings the inevitable questions: Why? What purpose does this serve, God?

The question to ask is not why. The question to ask is, God what are you up to?

James 1:5-6 (New International Version)
5 If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. 6 But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

Ask Him about it. In many instances, God has future Kingdom work so intense and fantastic we would fear it and run. It is in the waiting that we are prepared to climb to the next plateau. Living on Dead-End Street forges a soul of Christlike character. Life is not about us. It is about Him. God utilizes our dead-end to magnify Himself.

Romans 11:36 (New International Version)
36 For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.

The holding pattern teaches us to set aside our ambitions and help others. God works through people. If we are flying down life’s highway screaming past the befuddled bystanders, we can’t possibly show them Jesus. God is revealed when we enrich another’s life, a child, our spouse, a stranger, and especially others stranded on Dead-End Street. If we refuse to slow down willingly, God will unquestionably find a way to do it for us.

1 Timothy 2:4 (New International Version)
4 who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.

It is at the dead-end where God will pursue us, change us, and grow us. Are you stuck on Dead-End Street right now?

If so,
YOU ARE ON HOLY GROUND!

Jeremiah 29:11(New International Version)
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Lord, we are standing on holy ground in your presence waiting. Reveal your desire for our lives and character while we abide in this desolate place. Keep our memory strong. Never allow us to forget the lessons learned here. Let us find peace in the promise that you want to give us a hope and a future. In Jesus name, Amen.



I would love to visit with you over at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Tablecloth of Thanks

Many of you know I am married to an unbeliever. This past May we celebrated 15 years of marriage. Our unequally yoked marriage has its challenges to say the least. Over the years, however, our ingenious God has maneuvered us through many touchy issues.

Our disparity becomes more apparent during the holidays. Giving thanks to our Lord in November is a treasured time for me. I name my blessings one-by-one in prayer, thanking God for His lavish abundance poured into our lives.

Like most wives living in an unequally yoked marriage, I long for my spouse to understand there is a God. I want my man to know God is intricately involved in our lives and everything we have is provision of our Creator. However, I have learned that forcing God upon my husband is a surefire way to push him away. I am careful to respect my husband and simply trust Jesus to reach him in his perfect timing.

In spite of my husband’s unbelief, I discovered a unique way to draw him into the celebration of thanks, besides through his stomach. He loves turkey.

Four years ago I threw a new, pristine-white tablecloth across our dinning room table two weeks prior to Thanksgiving. I purchased several colored pens and placed them on top. A new tradition was born, a Tablecloth of Thanks. It began with my daughter. I told her, “I want you to write on this tablecloth.” She looked at me with skepticism in her eyes, wondering if her mother had lost her mind.

“Really,” my smiled reassured. “Write down what you are most thankful for this year. Then write the year, 2004, near your name.”

She grinned and began to write using several different colors. I joined in and wrote my thanks directly on the beautiful tablecloth.

Later that evening my husband noticed the scribbles on the tablecloth. I watched as he walked over to read our words. I walked to his side. Taking his hand I subtly asked him if he would also write down his thanks. He smiled and said maybe later.

Finally on the evening of Thanksgiving Day, my husband picked up a pen and wrote; I am thankful for my wonderful family, great friends, and a very happy life.

Wow! Was he giving thanks to our Lord? I am not sure. However, every year since he has continued to write a thankful list. Last year’s entry reads; I am thankful for all of my blessings…family, friends, and the dogs.

What? Did he use the word blessings? Small steps such as these lead to the Savior. I can’t wait to read his thankful list this year.

The Tablecloth of Thanks is one of my most prized possessions. Everyone who visits our home during the Thanksgiving holiday contributes to this permanent memorial of thanks. It is a visible praise to the King displayed in our unequally yoked home each November.

One of my favorite thanks is this:
2006
I am thankful
to be able to sit
on the couch and have
my people pet me.
Peanut

Hmmmm, I wonder how the dog grew fingers and learned to write????

Psalm 69:30 (NIV)
I will praise God's name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving.

Lord God, I will name my blessings one-by-one….. Jesus… eternal life…. clean water to drink…..capacity to love…..empowerment to forgive….. just for a start…..


It is never too late to start a new tradition. If you want to start your Tablecloth of Thanks, I have a few helpful hints.

Place a sheet of butcher paper under your tablecloth. (I have a permanent smiley face on my dinning room table from the year 2005)

Use colorfast fabric pens.

Store your tablecloth in an airtight Ziploc bag.

Thank you my friends for sharing this Holiday treasure with me. I wish you were with me today and could share your thankful heart on the Tablecloth of Thanks.

I would love to visit with you over at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

It is well....

Taken at 3:00 p.m. outside my home in Southern California
As I am preparing this post, the fires in Southern California are burning out of control. It is Tuesday, October 21, 2007 and outside my home about 12 miles away, a new fire has begun to burn. It is on the high side of the mountain which boarders our town. The flames are moving our way. I feel anxious about the implication.

I have watched this mountain burn twice in the last eight years since moving to California. I never felt afraid during those fires. Today is different; there is no one to help. Every firefighter in the state mobilized yesterday and is combating the terrible fires in San Diego. The frightful winds continue to blow with a fury. I continue to fret and to worry.

Today, I sit at my computer listening to the howling outside. Somehow through the noise, I hear God calling softly to me in this moment. I answer Him.

Lord, this is a moment of truth. Father, I am grappling with the real possibility of leaving my home knowing it may burn to the ground. I hear You asking me some serious questions. Am I holding too tightly to the things of this world? Have possessions become a God to me?

Lord, I have not faced this particular trial. I know others have and under far worse circumstances, but for me today, it is very real. You have brought front-and-center fears and insecurities that I hide from everyone, even from myself.

Today Lord, I surrender my earthly possessions. They will not be a God in my heart. If I leave today with only my family and my Bible, it is well with my soul.

2 When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
Isaiah 43:2

IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blessed assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

- Words by Horatio G. Spafford, 1873
- Music by Philip P. Bliss, 1876

The words to this hymn was written after two major traumas in Spafford's life. The first was the Great Chicago Fire of October 1871, which ruined him financially. Shortly after, while crossing the Atlantic, all four of Spafford's daughters died in a collision with another ship. Spafford's wife Anna survived and sent him the now famous telegram: "SAVED ALONE." Several weeks later, as Spafford's own ship passed near the spot where his daughters died, he was inspired to write these words.

I would love to visit with you over at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

An Unlikely Friendship

Sunday, October 14, 2007, an email arrived with a comment from my blog:

I have been fighting a spiritual battle continually since I was twelve. I watched this video and it restores me but I keep falling backwards from Christ. Thank You so much. Please pray that I will overcome this. –Fighting Teenager

My eyes blurred. I could feel the pain in this young life. I was also confused. How did this teenager land on a blog about unequally yoked marriages.

Several months ago I began posting a series on spiritual warfare. It was a verse study of Ephesians 6 with application to marriage. Early in the study my writing partner sent me a link to a video. The video is a dramatization of Jesus in the battle for our lives. It fit perfectly with the series on spiritual warfare. I posted it on my blog and titled it, Real Warfare. That was the third week in August.

I didn’t think much more about the post, however, I remember sending an email to a few friends with the link. This is where God took over. The email started to circulate. One friend sent it to another and so on and so forth. Today, it still is floating around in cyber space, going in and out of mailboxes, especially among our teens. They relate closely to the struggles depicted.

I am certain this is how Fighting Teenager landed on a mismatched marriage blog. I also know this child arrived here by God’s direction. I am compelled to pray for this kid and support his/her deliverance in any way possible.

What God has taught me through this encounter is what we post on our blog matters. What does NOT matter are the numbers of visitors or the number of comments. Sitemeter statistics are inconsequential. A post may be destined for only one person. God can and will use our posts, perhaps months or years later to bring hope and healing to a hurting life.

Don’t become discouraged in doing good. Keep on typing. Keep on praying. Keep on trusting. The following scripture has become a living treasure to me this week.

Galatians 6: 9-10 (The Message)
So let's not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don't give up, or quit. Right now, therefore, every time we get the chance, let us work for the benefit of all, starting with the people closest to us in the community of faith.

While reading the email from Fighting Teen on Sunday, I knew God wanted my blog partner and me to come along side this child. This is an unlikely friendship, two older women who struggle in unequally yoked marriages and teenager who is alone and hurting. However, it is just like our God to place people together in such a manner. My blog partner and I do not have much experience with teens in crisis. We don’t know exactly how to help today. However God does and He will help all of us in the months ahead.

I wrote back to Fighting Teenager to ask how I could pray and to also inquire about his/her support system.

I was broken hearted to learn this teenager’s parents are unapproachable. In Fighting Teen’s words, “…..Now I find myself in secrecy. Please keep praying that God will deliver me.”

We are praying my friend and God is listening!

Please pray for Firghting Teenager today and thank you for any Godly advice. Be blessed!

I would love to visit with you over at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Where's the Asprin?

Once a year the school district where we live in Southwest California does something unusual. Every Wednesday in the last week of September they schedule a “non-student day.” The teachers work but the students stay home. This is a big deal around the Donovan home. It is the only day in the year, when we travel an hour to Disneyland. We spend the day enjoying the park minus the crows and long lines.

There are benefits to living in California. Never mind the earthquakes, the fruits and the nuts, and the over priced real estate. *grin*

Now let me remind you I was with my daughter, my twelve-year-old daughter. Do you think she wanted to ride the Teacups or leisurely sail through, It’s a Small World? Oh no, it was a fast-paced, head-jerking, bouncing, weaving, convulsing, scream your head off, dawn-to-dusk, thrill ride, marathon.

We rode every single ride, in both parks mind you, where you panick then grab the safety railings with white-knuckled fingers and hang on for dear life. Every ride enticed us at least twice and sometimes more…. Can you see me running around to get in line again? I did!

After arriving home that day with a ton of great memories, laughs and a small crick in my neck, my daughter and I collapsed into bed.

The next morning is when I realized my folly. I could barely move. I was stiff all over and suffering from a king-sized headache. My shoulders were permanently stiff and gathered up around my poor neck. I hurt from the top of my head all the way to my big toes.

I dragged myself to the coffee pot then shuffled to my daughter’s room to get her out of bed and ready for school. She moved slow as well, and then complained about her sore shoulders. That is when I had a V-8 minute. You know this. It’s where you smack yourself on the forehead and a distant memory dawns on you.

That miniute I remembered last year’s visit to Disneyland and how the next day was horrid. I recalled my pinch-in-the-neck, headache had lasted for three days. Why, oh, why do I not remember the price I paid last year? Sometimes those unpleasant experiences I endure just don’t stick.

Don’t get me wrong, spending the day with my daughter was a blast. But, why didn’t I think to bring along one of her 12-year-old friends?

I have thought about this V-8 moment many times this week as I gulped down asprin. Why didn’t I learn the lesson the first time? Then I started to remember all the revisits to the Lord’s classroom. Why, oh, why can’t I get it right the first time? How frustrated God must be.

For example, repeating Finances 101 is a recurring habit. God is always there to instruct me about trusting Him. He reminds me, “Lynn, remember when you were a single parent? You learned to live on $25 a week after I helped you pay the bills. Also let me remind you of the time I supplied the exact amount of money you needed to pay the mortgage and how it came from an unexpected source.”

Another “do-over” course I attend regularly covers the danger of pride. He also schedules repeaters with regard to James 1:19. I think I am finally getting that one down.

However, the Lord’s patient instruction over the years is priceless to me. A treasure I store in my heart. He never fails to show up even when I mess up for the third, fourth, fifth, etc. etc.…… His protection, wisdom, and love never fail.

1 Corinthians 13:4a (NIV)
Love is patient, love is kind.

As for the most recent lesson learned, next year it is Dad’s turn!

Have a blessed and beautiful day! See you in the classroom.


I would love to visit with you over at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

The Rabbi and Me!

Exodus 35:1-3
Moses assembled the whole Israelite community and said to them, "These are the things the LORD has commanded you to do: 2 For six days, work is to be done, but the seventh day shall be your holy day, a Sabbath of rest to the LORD. Whoever does any work on it must be put to death. 3 Do not light a fire in any of your dwellings on the Sabbath day."

Have you ever thought what life would be like if we still lived under the law? How would this scripture apply in the year 2007?

I hope the story I tell you today will intrigue you about the old ways as well as grow your gratitude for grace.

_____

I love my neighborhood. We are an eclectic group of people thrown together by God’s design to “do life.” We enjoy community BBQ’s and Christmas parties. We have our resident gossip, teenagers that drive too fast, and families that help each other out.

One of my favorite neighbors is a Jewish Rabbi. He lives a few streets over with his wife and six children. Their home is also the local Synagogue where the worshipers in his faith gather to observe Holy Days.

Several years ago my husband and I were invited over to the Rabbi’s home. It was one of the coolest experiences ever. Our particular visit was on a winter evening and on the Sabbath or Shabbat.

I remember entering the Rabbi’s home. The first thing I saw was the opulent and beautiful wooden cabinet sitting front and center in the living room. It was massive stretching from floor to ceiling. The cabinet held the Torah when not in use. That evening the Torah was lying open in front of the cabinet on a beautiful table. This particular Torah was a single scroll, perhaps the size of two overly-large rolls of paper towels put together. It was hand written in the original Hebrew language and beautifully ornate. The Rabbi told me he paid $50,000 for it. He handled it tentatively. You could see in his eyes how extremely valuable it was to him.

It made me wonder if I would pay $50,000 for my Bible.

Needless to say, I was Wowed!

As we sat down in the family area I observed many things about this family and their home which mirror Old Testament teachings. The Rabbi’s wife told me the food on the table was prepared from scratch according to the Levitical laws. I wish I could remember some of the names of the pastries. Delicious!

After visiting for an hour or so, I went into the garage to retrieve something the Rabbi’s wife needed for the kitchen. As I returned to the kitchen, I flipped the light switch off. --My mother always told me to turn out the lights when I leave a room.--

Before the door shut from the garage to the kitchen the Rabbi gently said to me, “I cannot ask you to turn that light on.” Now, I knew immediately what he was referencing. To light a fire, turn on electricity, is forbidden.

If I did not turn the light back on, it would remain off until dawn. Therefore, anyone needing to go into the garage would do so in complete darkness. Needless to say, I turned the light on. For a Christian this is not a sin remember we live under grace.

I will never forget this "light switch" encounter.

Since that evening I have visited with the Rabbi on several occasions. I love to pepper him with questions about Israel and the Old Testament. His responses are absorbing and his intelligence is obvious. His zeal for God is undeniable.

I do not hold any judgment in my heart over his beliefs but I see him as one of the many who are yet to recognize Jesus as the Messiah. In this regard he is the the same as my unbelieving spouse. I have hope for them both.

I believe God allowed me to see the Old Testament laws lived out in our modern day society. He wanted me to understand grace in a whole new light.

I do. I am thankful.



Please visit me at: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Let's Be Frank

Over the past two weeks the Lord has drawn my prayers and thoughts to the people who have traveled with me on my journey toward heaven. God has brought to mind people who provided me with teaching, correction, and prayer. These individuals grew me into a deeper love relationship with Jesus.

An unlikely person was Frank. Frank was a colleague at the bank where I were I worked several years ago. Not once in my entire twenty-three years of banking had I worked with another Christian. Little did I realize God was about to set me on a new journey.

Over stacks of loan files Frank and I began to talk about faith and the Bible. He was wise and filled with the Holy Spirit. He began to slowly and carefully teach me new insights into God’s character and purpose for my life.

I know I spent a lot of time learning about the Holy Spirit. Frank brought in books for me to read along with my daily Bible reading. He said to me, “Lynn, read the good ole’ dead guys. They had it figured out long before we came along.”

He brought me books by R.A. Torrey, A.W. Tozer and Andrew Murray. I love Andrew Murray. I am currently reading two books by Murray today. Frank also recommended some of the good ole dead girls as well, such as Hanna Widall-Smith.

Over a course of two years Frank challenged me. He pushed me to discover more of God’s character. He led me to a fresh indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

Last week I telephoned Frank to thank him for those years of instruction. I explained how his love for Christ inspired me and grew my relationship with the King. Frank responded like Frank, “Awe shucks.” He was humble and gave all the credit to Jesus.

I think God delights in those ah-ha moments when we realize He orchestrated an encounter, a friendship. It delighted the Father for me to telephone Frank and say, “Thank you. Thank you for sharing Jesus with me.”

Who was your Frank? A pastor, a parent, a neighbor, the grocery clerk? Honor them with a card or a call. Then let's be Frank with someone else.

Colossians 3:16 (NLT)
16 Let the message about Christ, in all its richness, fill your lives. Teach and counsel each other with all the wisdom he gives. Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs to God with thankful hearts.

Please visit me at: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

He is Near!

I don’t have anything witty or cleaver to share with you today. You will find nothing profound or insightful in the story I am about to tell. Well, perhaps or perhaps not. Let God lead your heart.

This is a cornball story describing an ordinary day, a gal and her dog, and her amazing God. You may roll your eyes when you find out what I am talking about. Hang with me. The ending is good.

_____

Every morning I go for a walk-and-talk with Jesus. I usually take along my dog, Peanut. He is a mutt, Chihuahua-Daschund mix. We head out the door, peanut wearing his red leash, I am in shorts, and carrying a plastic bag. Dog walkers know what we use this for. *grin*

We walk a route in the common areas of our neighborhood. It is a wide loop with beautiful pathways with terrific landscaping. I find myself praising God most mornings as I take in the beauty of nature.

Thursday morning, as we started walking our loop, little Peanut decides it is time. He, ahem, hunches and does his thing. I reach into my pocket; the plastic grocery bag is gone. Rest assured I am a responsible pet owner. I don’t want to leave the evidence lying about.

Along our path there are several doggie boxes containing plastic bags for this kind of an accident. I can pick one up and scoop the doo-doo on the way home.

The entire time I am walking, I am praying about writing a post for today. I have made five attempts to write something and I have deleted them all. I am more than a little anxious. I pray, asking the Lord for the words. I talk to Him about my writers block for 30 minutes. Walking and talking. I completely forget to check the doggie boxes for bags.

I turn the final corner of the walk and remember the dog mess is ahead. I realize I do not have a bag in my hand and there is not a dog box in sight. So, I utter these words, “Lord, could You provide a plastic bag within the next 50 feet.”

I keep walking.

I see something ahead in the grass.

Could it be?

I walk about 20 feet and there on the grass next to the sidewalk is an Albertson’s shopping bag. I hesitate. I reach down and pick it up carefully. It is wet and covered with freshly mowed grass but I shake it out and find it is clean, whole and exactly what I need.

I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or shout, “Hallelujah! It’s a miracle.” I start thanking God. I could almost feel Him standing next to me. He whispered in my ear, “I am closer than you think.”

Peanut and I begin walking again. I am still in shock or awe or something. I use the Albertson’s bag and exercise my pet-owner responsibility. I scoop the poop. We walk it to the can in the park and start home.

I continued praying about what just took place as we walked down our street toward home. I felt God prompting me. I said something like this, “Lord, I can’t write about dog poop.”

“Lynn, you asked me for the words.”

“Yes Lord, and what a story it is.”

“Don’t forget what you learned today.”

“I won’t Lord”

I am closer than you think.
I am near.
I listen, I hear.
No need to fear.
I am near.
–Sincerely, The Lord



By the way, I found my dropped bag a few doors away from my house as I was walking home. God set up this amazing encounter the minute I began to pray.

Please visit me at: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Family Tree

This week my thoughts have been drawn to family.

My family is a wacky lot. Our family tree has its share of dysfunction and sub-plots. And on some occasions when we are all together, an elephant is likely to be present in the room. (The elephant is eventually dealt with. Usually with a large dose forgiveness.)

As I reflected on the kooky characters in our clan, I smiled. Our quirks and idiosyncrasies, mannerisms and peculiarity combine to make us a complex, one-of-a-kind, zany tree. I love each of them, always will.

This week I have also thought about my other family. This family tree is slightly more difficult to define. Some of my family members live on the other side of the planet. Many, I met only once. Some of my brothers and sisters, I have never met, never talked to, yet they are a profound influence in my life.

This tree is the family of God. This week in particular I am acutely aware of this subtle family who live among the masses. They are men and woman connected to me through the Holy Spirit and by their love for Jesus Christ.

My brother died on Friday after a protracted battle with Melanoma. He is now living with Jesus. Throughout his struggle, I was privileged to watch God’s family in action. The family of God stepped up to help in our time of great need. The family sent cards, prayer warriors surrounded my brother, emails arrived, and everyone visited the house. I can’t begin to tell you about the hundreds of strangers from all over America who mailed my brother a card. Thousands of people prayed. It made a profound difference. In the two years since his diagnosis, his wife and children became believers.

I don’t think I will understand the fullness of our family this side of heaven. To know that you and I are part of something much bigger than our little part of the world is extraordinary. I am connected with you through God’s Spirit and you to me. It's out of this world! Literally!

The family of God is a mystery to the world. However, as a believer, I know this family is a reflection of our Father and His enormous love. I am humble and grateful to be related to you! I love each of you, always will.



Please stop in at my place for a Sunday Smile: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Prayer Mobile

People and their automobiles entertain me.

I came across this one while on vacation in Yellowstone National Park. Cars are telling about a person.

More delightful than a car, however, is watching people inside the car. I am a people watcher. I bet you are too. I can’t help myself. Most of us who love Jesus are genuinely interested in what makes people tick.

I find it hilarious some people, sitting alone in their car, forget other drivers can see them. Thus, on any regular day you will see two or three nose pickings. You would never find a nose digger in the Supermarket (I hope). Close proximity discourages this kind of thing. But, the strangest things play out in automobiles.

Here are a few crazy things people do while driving: Reading the newspaper. Yup, it happened. A man drove with his knees while holding the paper open. *Shudder* Then there are multiple accounts of women applying makeup while talking on the cell phone. How about changing clothes? I might have tried this once but I wasn’t driving. Shhhh

People eat in their cars, they shave, they kiss and hold hands. They argue with a passenger. Some throw stuff out the windows. Some even dare to check their email. One of my all time personal favorites is a woman with her foot stuck out the drive’s side window. She painted her toenails while stopped in traffic. I am sure you could add a few scary tales to this list.

I tend to pray A LOT while driving. I no longer drive for extended periods since leaving the work force. In fact, some days the only driving I do is to and from school to drop off and collect my daughter.

This five-minute trip to school, however, has become a profound opportunity and one of my favorite driving experiences. A few years ago, God, inspired me to begin praying aloud for my daughter while we drove to school.

I pray for her protection. I pray for her friends. I pray over her tests on test day. I pray that God would reveal Himself in some small way to her during the day. I pray she would remember to pray when she is stressed, afraid, or uncertain.

This short prayer right before her day begins makes a giant difference in her day. If we forget to pray, her attitude is different. Troubles brew during the day. Praying God’s protection and love over her has been a profound privilege. Praying invites the King of the Universe to rein sovereign over her day. I am also teaching her how and what to pray. Ultimately, these few minutes in the car help to grow her faith.

Our prayers for our little ones and grown-up ones, spoken from our heart, in the kitchen, the backyard or even the car are powerful in the ears of our Father.

Lord,
Remind us to pray for our children everyday. Let us bring our kids names before you with anticipation of Your hand upon them. Protect them from the enemy and craft their hearts to become men and women who are a reflection of Your love.
In Jesus name, Amen

Okay, if you have never turned your automobile into a prayer mobile start today. Grab a child or two or more, jump in the car, buckle up, head to the nearest ice cream store for a cold treat. While on the way, don't forget to pray!

Please stop in for Marriage Monday at my place today: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

People and Laundry

Earlier today I prepared a silly post about a beady-eyed buffalo with shaggy dreadlocks and a bizarre midnight game of roadway chicken. However, I will save it for another day because God interrupted my day with an experience that leaves me humbled and at the foot of the throne. I am compelled to tell you what happened.

My family returned home from a weeklong vacation in Yellowstone National Park this past weekend. We arrived home after midnight and fell into bed exhausted. I awoke early the next day expecting to get a jump on the unpacking, mountains of laundry, yard work and a zillion other chores to be completed before we leave again in three days to visit the in-laws.

My husband found me this particular morning with my cup of coffee in hand, sitting at my computer reading through my email. He delicately mentioned that his cousin and very pregnant wife, twins, telephoned and would be stopping by for lunch in a few hours.

It is my nature to freak-out over unexpected visitors especially when the house is a disaster. Let alone the enormous amounts of work ahead and little time to accomplish it all. However, I remained calm (inexplicable, I know) and I did not take my frustration out on my husband which has been known to happen.--Divine intervention--

I ran to the grocery store to buy sandwich fixings for lunch. While standing in the checkout line, I thought to myself, I can do this. It’s only an hour, two at most. There will be plenty of time after lunch to get all of the unpacking done as well as most of the laundry.

My husband’s cousin and his very pregnant wife, twins, arrived. Had it really been five years since we last got together? We sat in the kitchen and chatted, ate lunch, chatted, moved to the family room, and chatted and then…. chatted some more. Six hours later, my husband, and I waved from our driveway as his cousin and very pregnant wife, twins, drove away.

I think I wanted to be angry. I wanted to feel sorry for myself. What an imposition. What inconvenience. Wasted time.

I am a true testament to the patience of our God because He impressed upon me at this moment the words of a prayer I pray often. Lord, make me available to intercept lives that need Jesus.

God spoke to my heart:

Lynn, I am God.

I will use your life to serve my purposes and in my perfect timing. I will not cater to your schedule, but you my child, need to be available for my schedule. Lives are more important than laundry. Relationships with your family are critical as there are many who do not believe in me yet. Their lives rank higher than an unpacked suitcase. Lynn, your obedience to be available is what will change the world.

As I type these words, tears flow. *Gulp* What a lesson! I will never forget it.

Thank you Lord, you use me in spite of my short sightedness and business of my small world. Make me mindful, everyday, of those lives you intend to intersect with mine. Lord, I continue to pray, intersect my life with those who need to see Jesus.
Today, I still have one unpacked suitcase in my bedroom, the dog hair flows across the upswept tile, the ironing awaits but I will NEVER again think of relationships, of people, less than my first and foremost priority because they are God’s first and foremost priority.



Please stop in for a visit at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Do Over!

Last weekend my daughter and I made peach cobbler together. No not an exciting detail to mention yet it was extraordinary in my life.

You see, I serve the King of “Do Over.”

Some of you may be aware I worked in the corporate world of finance for 23 years. I began as a teller, I retired three years ago after working in many capacities as commercial lender and manager.

Five years ago, while absorbed in my corporate persona, had you told me I would be making peach cobbler, from peaches grown in my back yard, I would have said you were crazy. I told everyone I knew back then I did not have a domestic bone in my body. --Ask my mother, she can attest to this statement.

Every time I made this pompus remark my Great King looked down upon my life. He knew I needed a “do over.” Boy, did I ever get one. (It’s all good!)

I went from Nine West to Payless, from designer suits to Wal-Mart sweats. My power lunches morphed into a McDonald’s break after school with my tuckered out little girl. I left the fast-paced world of finance and discovered a new pace. I discovered an entirely new life. I am a stay-at-home mom and having the time of my life!

God in His infinite wisdom gave me the opportunity to live a different life. He knew I was missing some of the greatest gifts this life offers. He wanted me to experience facets of life on earth I didn't know were possible.

I began to take an active part in my daughter’s day and school. I began to write and to read more. I grew tomatoes and canned them all by myself. I learned to cook and I love it. I clean my own house. I am good at it too. I can pick peaches, blanch them and make homemade cobbler from scratch, okay Bisquick, close enough!

Last weekend as I sat in the kitchen pealing the skin from the juicy, rip peaches, I looked up and smiled. My heart was overflowing with gratitude and wonder. With peach juice dripping from my elbow and splashing on the floor, I thanked God for His wisdom. I am a new woman. A woman with more than a domestic bone in her body, I have a new heart and a new life.

I am humbled to my knees when I meet others whose lives were also changed by a God sized do over. God meets our deepest needs even when we are blind and unable to recognize them ourselves.

We serve a brilliant, magnificent, holy, God!

Now it’s your turn. My daughter and I invite you to make peach cobbler. The recipe follows. When you are peeling your peaches sometime this week, remember to raise a smile and a prayer of thanks to the God of fantastic do-overs. Peach Cobbler:



1 c. brown sugar
1 tbsp. cinnamon
4 tsp. cornstarch
6 c. sliced fresh peaches
12 c. milk
2 tbsp. sugar
2 c. Bisquick
1. tsp lemon rind

Combine brown sugar, cinnamon, and cornstarch in saucepan. Add peaches and toss to coat. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until boiling and thick. Reduce heat and cook 2 minutes longer. Set aside.

Combine Bisquick, sugar, lemon rind. Add milk. Stir with fork until moistened. Return peaches to a boil. Pour into 2-quart oblong baking dish. Drop batter of top. Bake at 400 degrees fro 20-25 minutes. Serve with sauce.

Lemon Sauce:

Mix ½ cup sugar, 2 tablespoons cornstarch, 1 ¼ cup milk in saucepan. Cook, stirring constantly, until it comes to a boil and thickens. Reduce heat and cook 2 minutes longer. Stir in 2 tablespoons butter, t teaspoon lemon rind, 2 tablespoons lemon juice. Serve warm over cobbler.

I am a do over. Are you? I would love to hear your story.

Please stop in for a visit at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Lessons from the Campground

God intrigues me. He always finds me while I am camping to impart a new life lesson with each tent experience. Last weekend was no different.

Saturday night I am snuggled in my fluffy sleeping bag, fast asleep. In the early morning darkness I become painfully aware a bathroom trip is imminent. I fumble with the tent zipper which is stuck. While struggling to dislodge the nylon from the teeth, I begin to dance the potty dance. My feet are tapping and I am tugging. Finally I give it a forceful pull while praying over the tangled mess and the zipper roles up. Whew!

After I rush to the bathroom, I slowly amble back up toward our campsite. On the trek back I notice a strange phenomenon, a subtle roaring is emanating from every campsite I pass. For a second I wonder if wild animals have congregated looking for leftovers. No, I don’t hear wild beasts.

I hear men snoring.

I giggle, completely amused by the various pitch, gurgling, and roaring noises which fill the night air. I arrived back at our campsite to find our tent is rockin’ and a rollin’ in unison with my husband’s wood sawing.

My six-foot-two, tall dark and handsome, can snore better than most. He has been known to register a 5.2 on the Richter scale occasionally. We live in California - this can be sacary. As for myself, I might breathe heavily or sigh politely in my sleep. *grin*

For years I informed my spouse his snoring was perhaps a bit “over the top.” Of course, he did not believe me. Not once in his entire life had he heard himself snore. He was convinced that I was daft and suffering with oversensitive ears.

Finally, it happened. While rooming with a buddy on a trip, my husband’s snoring became so loud his friend picked up and checked into his own room to get a good nights rest. At last, my husband believed.

All of this snoring has led me realize, I too, have ignored loud and annoying parts of my character. I chose to believe my circumstances were an exception to specific teachings of scripture. So much of God’s Word I want to apply but have willingly left certain verses sitting idle. I have ignored God.

Specifically, over the past two years, God has been pointing out several scriptures I refused to believe were for me. Today, I surrender. I cannot see my life as an exception. I must see my life through all scripture, even passages which point out my spiritual snoring. At last, I see, I believe!

Slowly, patiently God waits for me to open my eyes. He never gives up, never tires, never sleeps. He waits and works, crafting my heart and soul.

The Lord has an amazing future planned for me which is born out of obedience. I can’t wait to see what awaits tomorrow as I surrender willingly today.

Jesus obedient: John 4:34
Jonah obedient: Jonah 3:3
Moses and Aaron obedient: Exodus 7:6
Mary obedient: Luke 1:38
Lynn obedient: In progress

John 14:21 (New International Version)
Whoever has my commands and obeys them, he is the one who loves me. He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love him and show myself to him."

I retell this story with a hug from my husband and his encouragement....

Tall, Dark, and Handsome, thanks for allowing me to share you with my friends.

Please stop in for a visit at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

At the Well of Contentment

You know this woman. It is likely you have read her story so many times she no longer speaks to you. Perhaps you feel disconnected from her life circumstance. Her life is a distant problem and your life is a sharp contrast to everything she is.

Let’s take another look. Possibly we will find we are not so different after all.

When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.

The Samaritan woman said to him, "You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.

This woman, a Samaritan, is astonished to realize a Jewish man is speaking with her. The brilliance of Jesus in this scene blows my mind. Jesus crosses over the cultural barriers of the time. He still does this today.

Jesus and the woman begin to talk about the ancient well and the water therein.

He says to the woman, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

The woman replies, “Sir, give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water."

Jesus turns serious here. He says to her, "Go, call your husband and come back."

Why did Jesus say this? We know from scripture she is divorced for the fifth time and currently living with a man who is not her husband. Do you think Jesus wanted to expose her guilt? I think, perhaps He wanted to expose her thirst. Jesus helps her to realize her attempts to find satisfaction have left her with an ever-growing thirstiness.

Each marriage was a new taste of sweet wine. Each suspended her deep longing, at least for a time. In the end, each failed to quench her thirst and left her desiring ….something else.

You and I are not so different from this woman. We also struggle with longing, restlessness, dissatisfaction, and yearning. Even though we know Jesus, we still can feel a restlessness rise up in us from time-to-time. If only I could loose a few pounds, I know I would be happy. If only I had a new home, I would finally be happy. If only my husband…. If only my mother-in-law….If only…If only….If only…..

Jesus does not come to condemn us and riddle us with guilt. His desire is to help us realize our own hidden longings which keep us bound in knots. He wants to free us from dissatisfaction and give us a life of contentment.

I am a visual learner with a vivid imagination. I hope you can imagine the following scene. Imagine yourself walking into your kitchen and there, standing by the sink is Jesus. He is wearing a white robe and holding a crystal clear glass of water.

You stop in your tracks and stare, daring not to move. He smiles. You relax and return His gaze. He holds up the glass and speaks your name then says, “I have come to give you freedom today. Surrender to me your secret longing and I will give you a carefree day of glorious living. Drink up!”



Can we see ourselves in this story? Are we truly drinking the living, sustaining, satisfying water, or sneaking a sweet wine substitute?

Let's take our longings before the throne, Jesus is waiting to meet us there.

Please stop in for a visit at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Better Than Reality TV

Friday afternoon we arrived at the campground. We bailed out of the car and began to unload the gear; sleeping bags, cook stove, food bins, and the most dreaded piece of camping equipment known to marriage, the tent.

This year we brought with us a brand new tent, still in the box. I spied the beast lying on the ground, knowing what must ensue. Looking around I was relived to see the campground was empty with the exception of a retired couple sitting quietly in their lawn chairs in front of their trailer about 100 feet away.

I approached the box, cut the tape and out slid the biggest pile of nylon and connect-the-sticks I have ever seen. The contraption sleeps ten. Why a family of three needs a tent this size, I still cannot explain.

Dragging the tent around on the site, I called to my husband for help. Thus the event commenced; the raising of the tent. This is a hotly contested battle of wit and patience between a husband and a wife. If television wanted a truly unrefined reality show, Raise the Tent, would win hands down. Two minutes into the set up, orders were shouted, my husband was obviously blind to the logic of my instructions. This became readily apparent from the look on his face.

A retort from my frustrated spouse was foreseeable. The sound level increased. I glanced over at older couple who sat smiling at their reading materials, afraid to look up for fear they would break into hysterics.

Precisely at this moment in all tent-raising events, children mysteriously disappear. My daughter retreated to the creek, suddenly captivated with the rocks at the bottom.

I lowered my voice but the yelling continued in what I call, snake whisper. It is still yelling just at a hissing level. I am sure some of you can relate. The older couple is no longer watching covertly, they sit mesmerized by our show activity.

Finally the Holy Spirit became fed up and tapped upon my heart. He reminded me I no longer needed to be in control. In the midst of our squabbling I saw my husband, a gift from God. I saw a man who has made me a better woman. The bickering diminished instantly and the tent went up quickly.

My husband and I are spiritually mismatched in our marriage and although my husband has yet to discover the truth of Christ for himself, Christ is alive and active in our marriage. Christ’s supernatural power brings us through the arguing, disagreements, and tent construction. I look back upon my marriage journey and see Christ standing with us. He has been working through my nonbelieving husband to smooth my rough edges of selfishness and desire to control.

My spouse and I are the ultimate odd couple. Our back grounds and beliefs are vastly different, which makes our marriage, our happy and fulfilling marriage, a miracle.

An hour later, I sat at the picnic table waiting for our friends who were joining us to settle into their campsite. Their daughter wandered over for a chat. I asked her, “Did your mom and dad getting everything set up?”

She replied, “Yes, but yelling was involved.”

I laughed out loud knowing God was alive and well in the next campsite!

1 Peter 3:1-4 (The Message)
The same goes for you wives: Be good wives to your husbands, responsive to their needs. There are husbands who, indifferent as they are to any words about God, will be captivated by your life of holy beauty. What matters is not your outer appearance—the styling of your hair, the jewelry you wear, the cut of your clothes—but your inner disposition.

I am a first Peter three work-in-progress!
Please stop in for a visit at my place: Spiritually Unequal Marriage.

Top 10

It’s the weekend! Woohoo!

Over the past few weeks I’ve been busier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Sorry, all you cat lovers.

What is it about the month of May? I find this month particularly stressful as many of our ordinary activities culminate and crescendo in a finale worthy of the White House.

Bible study ends next week. I must prepare for our end-of-the-year brunch. Brunch is not only a time to remember our experiences with God but an elaborate decorating contest to prove no center piece can be too large or ostentatious. ---I am centerpiece challenged! Send me your suggestions.

Every May, my daughter is included in a ton of extra curricular activities. A day trip to Disney Land, birthday parties, visits to museums, field trips, and band concerts. My daughter plays the flute.

From my tour around the blogosphere earlier this week, it is obvious I am not alone.

Post after post I empathized and sympathized with a number of you who are stressed out, weary, drained, fatigued and just plain wacky from the pace of it all. Perhaps it is just me who is wacky (likely).

So how do you know when it is time to stop, rest and spend time alone with our Savior. Some of my church friends got together and we comprised our own Top 10 list.

The Top 10 reasons you know it’s time for a rest and recharge: (These are real experiences)

10. You find yourself arguing with your three-year-old and she’s winning the conversation.
9. You start cutting the person’s food next to you and you realize it’s not one of your children.
8. Going to the grocery store is the highlight of your week.
7. All you can grow, is found on the leftovers in the refrigerator.
6. You throw on a cap to avoid getting your roots done.
5. The Ice Cream truck driver knows your order but not your children’s.
4. Your date with your husband ends up at Wal-Mart, and you’re both excited about it.
3. You’re hourly telling your kids, “Mommy needs a time out!”
2. The manager at Sees Candies says, “Oh, hi, you again, the usual two pounds?”

And, the number One Reason you know it’s time for a rest and a recharge:

You begin calling your hot flashes, “mini tropical vacations.”

Laughter and time alone with my Savior, is just the thing. With my Lord’s help, a hot Starbucks, and meaningful time alone with my bible and prayer journal, I will triumph. I will conquer the centerpiece, finish errand running, help with the birthday parties, and plan the camping trip.

God is good! All the time!

Matthew 11:29
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.

Amen, Lord Jesus, Amen!

You Deserve a Six-figure Salary!

Last week, I was intrigued by a story on a national news broadcast. The story highlighted the multiple jobs a mother performs and the equivalent compensation she would receive as a paid professional.

It is a whopping six-figure salary!

Predicated on the extensive domestic duties we perform, it is estimated a mother is entitled to a base salary of $47,179. However, when overtime is included, the annual pay skyrockets to $138,645.

Mothers, on average, log an astonishing 91.7-hour workweek. We multitask not because we can but because it is necessary. We cook dinner, set the table, answer the phone, wipe our toddler’s nose, all while helping our ten-year-old with math homework.

Moms are long-term thinkers. We make choices every day that often won’t bear fruit for 30 years. We are cheerleaders, boo-boo fixers, and hot chocolate makers. We are the disciplinarian, the psychologist, and our child’s spiritual watchdog. We are faithful prayer warriors.

Motherhood offers no monetary compensation and rarely are we encouraged with a pat on the back for a job well done. We receive no vacation time and if we are sick, we work anyway. However, the benefits are excellent.

As mothers we are privileged to peak in on our cherubs as they sleep to glimpse perfect peace and beauty. Our heart melts from a spontaneous hug and kiss. We experience a profound pride while watching our child take their first step or score their first soccer goal and rejoice the day they are baptized. We delight in their first crush, first pimple, and first date. We pray diligently over their learners permit.

We are elated over a great report card, a kind word spoken to a sibling, a crayon-colored card for our birthday and a small voice that says, “I wuv you.”

We are blessed by God to be called to this profession. Motherhood opens a window in our soul to understand God’s unconditional love. Mothering brings joy as well as heartache but most of the time we find fulfillment. We are serving the Most High by serving our children and their earthly father. There is no greater calling in the world than to raise up the next generation of Godly adults.

Proverbs 31:
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.

26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.

28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:

29 "Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all."

30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

31 Give her the reward she has earned,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Don't Go To Jupiter Without Me!

Over the past several months I have enjoyed participating in an e-panel for a Christian publisher. My service on this panel will conclude this month. The final question is excellent: How does your hope of heaven impact the way you live life on earth?

What a great question! I thought I would share my reply:

“Mom!” my eleven-year-old, daughter drew out the word with heavy pronunciation. It sounded more like Maw-u-m. I looked up at her. She was standing in the kitchen a few feet away, staring straight at me, arms akimbo. “Don’t go to Jupiter without me,” she stated with annoyance in her voice.

I smiled as I considered our conversation.

Just before this stern statement, I was preparing dinner, chopping away at a head of lettuce. I was absorbed in travel imaginings I might have when I become a permanent resident of Heaven. As Mini-Me was setting the table, I off-handedly stated, “Jupiter is one the first places I plan to visit after I arrive in Heaven.” My daughter was distraught. How dare I consider going on an adventure without her while she is still living on earth? She was quite serious.

You see my daughter and I talk of heaven all the time. We dream, we plan, we giggle, and we save our imagined adventures in our hearts. We plan to visit the dinosaurs, pop in to witness Paul deliver his speech in Caesarea. Experience the Orion Nebula. We plan to ride horses and pick flowers. Visit the past, explore the present see the future, and talk with everyone in-between. Moses, John, Noah, Eve, Mary, to name a few.

In the New Heaven and New Earth, you won’t find me in the city, though I plan to visit often. You will find me in the garden – Eden! I have already made my request to the Master for a gardening position on the planet, thank you very much.

I dream, dream, dream, fully aware my imagination can run wild. I envision myself sitting on the marble steps of the throne room for a thousand years, gazing at the King, face-to-face. I have much to ask Him. I want to talk with the angels who were my protectors on earth. What was it like for them? I want to thank each and every person who pointed me toward Jesus. I want to hug everyone there.

I know heaven may not be like my dreams. It will be far more fantastic!

Heaven is very real. Because of heaven I have hope for today and for tomorrow. I am free to live the impossible. I am able to forgive the unforgivable. I am empowered to love lavishly! I can live fully! I am genuine when others are deceptive. I am optimistic in a world gone mad.

Hope of heaven carries me when life is ugly, cruel, unfair, and dangerous. Hope removes fear, doubt, and cynicism. Hope of heaven is my lifeline.

One of the best parts of heaven is like a sea bird. Imagine the bird flying to the shore of an ocean where it picks up a grain of sand in its beak and flies away. Every million years, the bird returns for another grain. When the sand from the beach is finally gone, the bird moves on to another beach, then another, one-grain, one million years. The day the bird picks up the last gain of sand, is only the beginning of our time in heaven.

Heaven is where I will spend my days delighted with the King, living fabulous adventures, and loving His children.

I have hope for today. I trust God with tomorrow. I have heaven in my heart because I know the Redeemer of mankind, Jesus, the Messiah.


How does your hope of heaven impact the way you live life on earth?