"If you could be any super hero, who would you be?" said the 11-year old.
"I would be Wonder Woman...because she has an invisible jet," answered the six-year old.
This was the beginning of a conversation I overheard yesterday, between my kids. I was surprised. First, that my son chose Wonder Woman as his super hero.
Second, I wondered about the reason for his choice. You see, my children don't have the exposure to Wonder Woman that I had as a kid. They are not aware of her ability to jump over buses and onto buildings or about her extra-large, gold bangle bracelets that have the ability to deflect bullets. Their knowledge is limited to what they have recently seen in The Lego Movie. In that movie she has an invisible jet.
Why wouldn't he want to fly like Superman or have super-cool gadgets like Batman?
This got me thinking...Does being invisible offer an advantage? Does the fact that it can't be seen give it more power? What kind of super power would I want?
Maybe, I already have one.
Lately, many of my spiritual thoughts have been about the Holy Spirit. Honestly, for me, the Holy Spirit used to be something scary, yet unreachable. On one hand, I thought that if I listened to the Holy Spirit, it would mean that God would send me far away, to a foreign country. I also wondered if only super-spiritual or perfect Christians were allowed communion with the Holy Spirit. It was elusive and mysterious and it occurred to me that only a few chosen, special people got to feel or experience it's power.
What I have been learning recently, however, is something very different. As I have been studying the books of John and Acts, God has been revealing to me many things about the Holy Spirit that I never knew before. About its purpose. About what God intended for the Holy Spirit to be in our lives.
What has been the most exciting to me is the discovery that the Holy Spirit is a gift for all believers. The gift of a teacher, helper, guide, and of power, truth, encouragement and peace. Knowing that the Holy Spirit is at work in my life, in all these areas, has made me more confident and willing to search for the greater works that Jesus described in John 14:12...
Even more impressive is the fact that the writer of Acts uses the term "poured out" to describe how the Holy Spirit is given to us. This literally means to bestow or distribute largely. This doesn't mean that I have a little bit of help or a small amount of power. It means that I have an abundance of it. And because of this abundance, this filling of the spirit, I am empowered to go, do and speak boldly in the name of Christ.
"The Spirit helps us, affirms we are God's, teaches us, even prays for us,
leads us in what to do, and equips us with what we need to do it."
- Jennie Allen, Anything
I serve an invisible God who has gifted me with the power of his Holy Spirit. That is good news.
With it, I am equipped to start a Bible study, write a book, speak in front of a large group, invite my neighbor to church or pray with a friend in need. All because I have the power of Christ in me.
It's the best super power.
I don't share God with my kids often enough.
There, I said it.
Yes, they see me reading my Bible and praying. Yes, they know that I attend Bible study and understand the value that attending church holds in our family. Yes, I am beginning to worship more freely in hopes that they will understand worship, in all forms, is okay. However, there are many things about God that I don't share with them.
Often, when they ask me questions about my blog, why I do something or about a specific event - like when I spoke earlier this year in Southern California - I avoid telling them, "God asked me to do that" or "The Holy Spirit prompted me to go."
Why? Maybe it's because I'm worried that they may not understand, it may be too much for their young minds to comprehend. Maybe it's because I don't fully understand it myself and I am afraid I won't be able to answer their questions. They don't need to know everything, do they?
Yes, they do. Especially, about God.
Last week, my nine-year old asked me why I "don't have Bible study" anymore? She was referring to the two ladies I would get together with each Monday night. We began a break in late April due to crazy schedules, vacations and a need for rest. I was tempted to answer her with something simple or even avoid her question altogether. But, something wouldn't let me. Not this time.
So, I explained to her why we had taken a break and then said, "But, I will be starting another Bible study soon."
"You mean you're starting one or doing one?" she asked.
"Starting one. At church."
"Wow. Cool."
It was the end of the conversation, but I could tell it made an impression. We had experienced a teachable God-moment. I hope it showed her that not only is it okay to do something for God, it's okay to start something new for him too.
Lately, I have been struggling with how to explain God to O. Because of his concrete thinking, a term like, "ask Jesus to live in your heart" doesn't make sense to him. This has become even more important to me as his nighttime fears have increased. I want him to know that God is with him always, will protect him and has the power to take away his fears. Yes, this is big for a six-year old, especially for a six-year old who mostly lives in a black and white world - one where if you got a gift on Christmas Eve, you would never say you got it for Christmas because that would be wrong.
After having another frustrating conversation with O about Jesus and his power within us, God reminded me of a friend, another mother who has a son similar to O. She had mentioned something at my last IF: Table gathering about how she had explained the term "born again" to her son. I sent her a message on Facebook and was so encouraged by her response. While the conversation she had with her son on this topic was helpful for future conversations I may have with O, it's what she said to me after that made more of an impact. She wrote,
"I also have decided to surrender to the fact that God made [my son] and knows the best way to connect with him. I recently realized, he's relentlessly pursuing relationship with [my son] (with all of us really) but I have no doubt that [my son] will encounter Jesus in ways that only God could orchestrate. I have just decided to trust in this."
I read this verse in Psalm this morning. It convicted me. I truly believe it was God, once again, revealing to me the importance of sharing him with others, which includes my children.
I don't want to tell my children what I know about God, I want to share the truth of God's power and mighty wonders. I want my children to see God. Not just on the pages of scripture or during a Sunday school lesson. I want them to see him in everything. Because he is there.
I want them to experience God.
We are in the process of building a pool. A couple of weeks ago, when our backyard was cleared of all its old foliage and the hole had been dug, I was inspired. That's when I started writing this post.
I thought I would miss all the old trees, grass, flowers, etc. But, I didn't. As soon as the hole was dug, the vision for our future backyard began to take place. Even though there had been destruction and the backyard was a mess, there was a promise of something new. Something that was better for our family.
My plan was to write about brokenness and how it is not always as bad as it seems. Then, I started feeling broken and I couldn't see the promise anymore. How could I encourage others when I didn't feel encouraged myself?
Over the past couple of weeks, life has been hard. Frustrating. Discouraging. O has regressed in many areas. The number of tantrums has increased and my ability to handle them has been less than ideal. So, although his "graduation" from kindergarten was quickly approaching, and the idea that we had made it through his first year of school, with fewer problems than we had expected, was lost among the increase in negative behaviors. I was having trouble celebrating all the success in the midst of what I perceived as failures.
Last Friday was particularly difficult for me. It all came to a head when O innocently asked me, "Mama, what do you do when you go to work?" As I began to share with him all the things I do for children who are very similar to him, I felt despair that I had not been able to help my own child in the same ways. It was devastating to my already fragile emotional state.
If you read my post earlier this week, you know how beautifully my husband responded to my not-so-beautiful moment. It was a huge blessing and gave me a new perspective on all that we have accomplished this year.
That's the heart of the story, really, the story of God and people and his hands in the world. All through history, he's making soup from bones, life from death, water from rocks, love from hate.
Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines
Empty. That's my word for 2014. Some days it's easy to be empty before God, ready for him to fill me. And, other days, those days that are filled with the stuff of life - school activities, doctor appointments, temper tantrums, spring concerts, reports to write, etc. - when I am not available to God, he empties me.
And, that's what he has done during these weeks. I have been broken and empty. Not by my own will, but by His. Much like my backyard, my life has been cleared of the old to make room for what is to come. For what God has planned.
Emptiness often leaves us with nothing but the promise of something new. Something better. The rainbow after the flood. The stone that was rolled away. The veil that was torn. They all followed emptiness. And, all were worth waiting for.
I love reading. It is one of my favorite hobbies. I have been contemplating lately ways to make it possible to read while I sleep or get ready for work or even while I'm driving. Any ideas?
When I was younger, I often chose reading over other activities. Instead of swimming with my sisters, I would sit by the pool and read while they swam. I took a book with me everywhere, so that in any spare moment I could continue my journey into someone else's story.
Now, as an adult, working mother of three, I have less of those spare moments. And, when I have them I often find myself taking a peek at my phone, checking emails, status updates and the latest photos on Instagram.
It was during the season of lent this year, when I decided to take a break from social media every evening, that I noticed how much time I actually spent with my face in my phone. I didn't know what to do with myself during those hours, when I had vowed to fast from social media. I became bored. Especially in the evening hours, after my kids had gone to bed, on the nights when my husband was out of town, that I felt restless and uncomfortable. But, it was out of that feeling of uneasiness that God created something in me. An ability to notice. My house. My kids. My husband. My Bible. The book on my nightstand that I had been neglecting.
It was during that time that I made a conscious decision, even after lent had ended, not to make social media my focus. Although I still check emails, status updates and view the lives of my cyber friends through photos, it is not my priority. My life, the people and things that are going on around me have become more important.
When life is going well, this take-notice attitude is easy. When the things to notice are bike-riding successes, family dinners, movie nights and belly laughs. However, when life is difficult and fraught with discouragement, as it has been for me the last few weeks, that's when I wish for that escape. That's when I hole up inside myself and resist letting those close to me into my pain and frustration.
However, last Friday, it finally came out. It was a generally down day for me and everything that anyone said caused me to heap more guilt and judgement upon myself. That's why, when my husband called me to tell me he had one stop to make before he was heading home, I did what no wife should ever do to their husband or loved one over the phone. I started crying. Hard, ugly tears. I told him of my failures, doubts and many of the reasons why he should no longer love me or trust me with our children.
He said few words, as by the time I had finished my rant, he had arrived at his destination. We would talk about this later. I was sure.
That night, as we were winding down, getting the kids ready for bed, he sat in his chair with his laptop. I knew he must have work to do and continued to do life around him. At times, this has frustrated me. His need to work in the evenings. But I had been trying hard lately to give him this space and time to handle his business, without resentment.
After the kids were in bed, I sat on the couch and Matt came over with his laptop. He said, "Now, I'm going to convince you why you are wrong." I immediately tensed, knowing he was playing his I'm-a-man-and-I'm-going-to-fix-it card. He was going to use logic to help me see the error of my emotions. This never works.
But, he surprised me. Instead of giving me practical solutions to my problems, he proceeded to share with me the list of 20 things he had written. Twenty positive ways in which our family, house and circumstances had changed in the past nine months because of things God had done through me.
Then, he said, "And, that was only in five minutes. I'm sure there are more." I was speechless. And, of course, I cried. "Thank you," was all I could say. It didn't solve my problems, but it sure put things into perspective. That list didn't change the anxiety I have about what is to come, but it showed me something important...
Amidst all the memories, mix tapes, sideways glances and flirtatious smiles, weekend getaways and fancy dinners, it was the most romantic thing Matt has ever done for me. In our close-to 14 years of marriage and nearly 20 years of doing life together, he still notices me. It was beautiful. Better than any story I could read in a book.
Because, it is my story.
