Motherhood is a Means, or, Give Them a Beautiful Inheritance!

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family, kiddos, , Leave a Comment on Motherhood is a Means, or, Give Them a Beautiful Inheritance!

Motherhood is one of those things that we instinctually know is important. Yet it isn’t the end.

It is the mission field of the mundane. Daily giving up myself for the sake of my short people. Daily pouring out every truth and fact and shred of insight and wisdom that is stored up in me to impart it to little hearts and little heads and little hands.

Yet, I don’t control the end. I don’t write the story. I’m just a character in it. I know how I’d write it if I were doing the writing, but I’m not. And we (especially me) should all be very very grateful that that’s the case.

The end and final chapters for my kids will mostly likely be without their mom. I’ll be written out–dead. They will start, in a very short time, making decisions quite independent of me. The influence I’ve exercised over them, as all parents do, will be spent. I recognize that I can’t save my kids. Saving is God’s work.

But what is it all for–this motherhood that we all know in our gut is some of the most important work on the planet. Anyone with a good mom will attest–having a good mom is important! And anyone with a bad mom will doubly attest–having a good mom is important!

It’s because motherhood is a means. It’s a means to our kids’ salvation. It’s a (often THE) means to imparting wisdom and Biblical thinking and the anchor that will hold in the high and stormy gale. For a child, the authenticity of the Gospel story is played out in living color by their parents–their mom. Here’s an example: I believe that Jesus is God–He came to earth and lived a sinless life, died on a cross to take the penalty for my sin, and my old self died with Him. Then three days later rose again and I am raised to new life with and in Him.

So how does that play out before their eyes in my life? How about in line at Chipotle at lunchtime during a workday, when the restaurant is filled with professionals and we bustle in breathless with grins on our faces at the thought of food prepared with someone else’s hands! I’ve got the 2-yr old in my arms and the other three are swarming around my legs. We cheerfully bounce into a line about 4 deep and are followed up by 3 or 4 more hungry customers. I glance around with a smile surveying the temperature of the patrons.

It’s cool, to put it mildly. Directly behind us is a woman whose face is visibly annoyed. Perhaps she was concerned that our order would take a long time because she inches closer, willing the line to move ahead and willing us out of it. In front of us is a “young adult.” Older than a teenager, but clearly not out of the teenager phase of life. He pretends like we aren’t behind him. How embarrassing to stand in line by children.

My response to this says something about what I believe the Gospel to be about.

So, I quietly stand my ground with my kids–they’re mine. I look in their faces with love and happiness–happiness that they exist and that we are together. I do not look embarrassed or try to apologize for their existence. I hold my baby and kiss her head. When our turn comes I order with dignity and help my 4 yr old to see over the counter what’s happening. I explain what a carnitas burrito is and why guacamole will be their favorite when they’re old like me. I claim them, I value them, I protect them, I teach them and mostly, just by our sheer existence in that place, I say, these kids are mine, and they’re worth sacrificing for, they’re worth being poured out for, and I’m doing it. That’s what God does for us–claims us.

Also, these kids are not accessories. They’re people. I don’t “wear” them. They aren’t dogs either–there to love me unconditionally and perform some tricks. No, quite the opposite, I serve and love them. That’s what Jesus does for us.

It’s part of a Gospel picture. There are a million more that we paint for our kids by how we respond when they’re vomiting on Palm Sunday or at Christmastime or whether we yell and pitch a fit over the third cup of spilled milk, or chuckle and grab the paper towels. And I fail, don’t get me wrong, I fail. They even get to see how grace covers me when I sin and fail–another portrait of Jesus’ sacrifice.

Bottom line is that the Gospel story, the true story, must be told with words and it must be borne out in the moments of our lives. These are the means of motherhood to bring a child to trust the Trustworthy One. A trustworthy mom who stands her ground and loves her kids in a hostile Chipotle is like a line falling in a pleasant place for those kids and the line points to the Savior–it is a beautiful inheritance. It’s not guaranteed, the secret things are God’s, but it is my calling. May you do it, Lord, for Your Name, El Kana.

“The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.”
(Psalm 16:5-6 ESV)

I Can’t Save My Kids Anymore Than I Can Teach Birds to Fly

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family, 1 Comment on I Can’t Save My Kids Anymore Than I Can Teach Birds to Fly

I was involved in an exciting (failed) bird rescue attempt!

The kids and I had been watching a little nest in the bushes for a few weeks. I’d noticed lots of erratic bird activity around the area so I started hunting for the nest and found it. Not long after, the two eggs hatched and we were able to peek in at the baby birds.

Momma bird sitting on the nest

Then on Saturday I went to see how they were doing and snap some pics. As I walked up to the nest, one of the babies darted out of the nest in a flurry and plopped to the ground.

It couldn’t fly yet, but hopped around the yard as it tried to fly. I was mortified. I thought for sure that I’d scared the bird out of its nest much too early and doomed it to die a slow flightless death.

I lost track of where it was and came inside, guilty, to confess my sin to Tom. Then I went back out to re-check the nest and look for the bird. I saw him hopping spryly around and found a chance to redeem myself. I thought, “If I can just catch him and put him back, it’ll be like it never happened. So I did. (Later Tom reminded me that I shouldn’t have touched it because my scent would scare the parents off. My bad.)

Baby bird still in the nest.

I put the bird gently back in the nest. To my surprise, the other baby bird was no longer in the nest. It had flew the coop of its own accord. Well, the baby bird stayed put and I came back inside, very relieved to have at least returned it to its nest, but still wondering if I’d ruined their chances at a happy flying bird life. 5 minutes later I went to check on it and it was gone from the nest, again.

My bird rescue attempt. Photo credit: Seth

The next morning the kids and I were eating breakfast and Eliza squealed, “MOM! It’s the baby bird, out on the deck!!!” I slowly came to the sliding glass door and sure enough, there was the tiny baby bird. The other kids ran over and scared it, and it flew away, off our second story deck.

Yep. Flew.

I didn’t rescue it or teach it to fly. I happened to scare it out of its nest at the right time.

But I did think to myself, flying is a little like the new birth. It happens. I can’t make it happen or prevent it from happening for my kids or anyone else.

That’s not to say that what I do doesn’t matter. It does, it does! I teach them. I create the environment they’re growing up in and all of that matters immensely. That bird wouldn’t have flown if its parents hadn’t made a nest for it and sat on it and fed it the right food. Likewise I make a home for my kids, I teach them and sit on them if necessary (ha!), and I feed them the food of God’s Word.

But I don’t make them fly and the new birth isn’t born of me. It’s born of the Spirit through faith in the Son. I can read them the Bible, but I can’t make it taste good to them. I can pray with them, but I can’t make them pray. I can love them, but I can’t make them love others.

I can effect their behavior, but I can’t give them a new heart. God can.

That’s why there is no parenting formula to make sure we don’t raise Cain. There is no secret tip, or foolproof method.

There’s The Book.

The Bible is not a secret. It holds the words of life, the Good News. And everything pertaining to life, if we have the discernment to apply it with grace and wisdom from above. Lord, grant this mom more of that wisdom!

So, I take heart that my call as a mom is to faithfulness, not flying. Faithfulness to the Book, faithfulness to the God who wrote it, faithfulness to the Jesus who saves in it, and faithfulness to the Spirit who grants me faith and opens my eyes to behold wonders from the Word.

The saving belongs to God. This knowledge fuels our prayers. Save our children Lord, by the power of the Gospel of Jesus, give them His righteousness. Spirit come and awaken dead hearts to think on Jesus and well up with loving affection.

Happy hopping bird, now able to fly. Phew!

 

seven layers of delicious complexity

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family, gratitude3 Comments on seven layers of delicious complexity

I salivate over seven layer bars.

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I became enamored with them in college. They were available almost every single day in the DC (dining center) at Bethel. How spoiled I was. And, oh, how I took those days of dining with choices galore and desserts every meal for granted.

One of the best things about seven layer bars at my house is that no one else likes them. I know, right?! It’s a sweet deal.

The other night Tom and I were talking about our kids and how unique they each are. And how with each one entering our family, we are forced have an opportunity to grow and “expand our skill set,” as Rachel Jankovic says in Loving the Little Years.

Children– well, people (which children are, after all), are complex, layered little beings. Not only is every child completely unique, but their uniqueness changes as they grow! The minute you think you have your child pegged as ‘x’ they start to expand and grow into ‘x’ and ‘q’.

This is why parents (um, me) should refrain from pegging their children too strongly in any sense. This will quickly become pigeon-holing. It’s all well and good to say, “John’s the talkative one and Sally’s the shy one and Bill’s the athletic one and June’s the math whiz,” if it’s true and inescapable. But it may be true only for a short while. And it may not be the whole truth.

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It doesn’t serve our children well to give them a permanent assignment of their person. Rather, as a pastor at our church often says, “Commend the commendable in them,” (meaning the things pertaining to godly character). Strengthen their identity in Christ and let the other stuff wax and wane as it will.

Children have this ability to become what we repeatedly say they are. Or to rebel against it. So, if a parent says over and over, “Sally’s the shy one.” Sally will most definitely be the shy one. Perhaps until she goes away to college.

Our children are complex by design. They have been made by their Creator with complexity, layers if you will, and the ability to grow and change . We want to encourage this ability as much as we can. It is training in godliness to give our children the security to go from “the athletic one” to “the athletic book worm.” Someday they will need to go from “the student,” to “the student and teacher.”

Not to mention all the absolute changes that repentance requires. But, that’s starting down a different road.

The bottom line is this: knowing our children means observing when they change and expand, and embracing it with them. Encouraging it in them. Not assigning them who they are at 5 years old, thinking, “Well, I’ve got them figured out,” and repeating it until they’re 15. You may have them figured out at 5–it’s possible and probable in some respects. But don’t assume you do. Keep watching. Keep learning. Keep getting to know the complexity that’s in your child.

It will serve them well. It will make them deeper, richer people. And it will do the same for us parents, as well.

“Make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, 6 and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, 7 and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. 8 For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.” 2 Peter 1:5-8

the final wait

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family, 3 Comments on the final wait
We have entered the last week of advent. We remember the wait for the birth of baby Jesus.

We remember the waiting that has already been consummated. It has been completed: Jesus did come. Yet we remember and reenact it. But we do not wonder what it’s like to really wait, as though it’s a reenacting apart from our present circumstance that we merely remember. We have our own waiting to do.

For ours is the final wait. We wait for the end, the returning, the perfecting, the new heavens and new earth. Or we wait for our own end that will take us to an early glory. Yes, we are familiar with waiting. Perhaps we are less familiar with the arriving. The actual completion of things waited for. So, we practice the completion at Christmas. We remember that the Messiah, long awaited for, finally did come. And so, we take heart in ours, the final wait.

“8 But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. 9 The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” 2 Peter 3:8,9

Thank you, Lord, for the waiting.

hospitality and small children

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family, kiddos, 15 Comments on hospitality and small children

I’ve been thinking about the joys and challenges of being hospitable with small children at home.

Having toddlers afoot amid home and meal preparations, while expecting a large or small gathering of people, can be a challenge. So much so that many people just don’t do it much at all. But it can also be a great joy and delight.

I have certainly experienced both the difficulties and delights of parenting kids while trying to keep everything picked up and in its place and keep enough gas in my tank so that I’ve got a truly warm welcome for the people walking through the door. The reality is, often I don’t have enough gas in my tank at the arrival of guests. But one thing I’ve always found to be true: God’s grace covers me over and over as friends and family and neighbors and guests enter our home. In my weakness, He is strong and He glorifies His greatness even more because of my tired, broken down reliance on him.

Here are some things to keep in mind as you pursue hospitality with small children at home:

1) Hospitality is a family affair. 2 and 3-year-olds can get a vision for it if you communicate it to them. So, be excited about serving others in your home and they will be too.

2) When you communicate the vision of hospitality to your little kids, make sure you let them know that it is an honor to receive guests, be it family, friends or strangers. Therefore, we seek to treat anyone who enters our home with special honor.

3) Start preparing early with the help of your children. If I know that we’re having a big group over, I begin preparations days in advance and engage the children as much as I possibly can. I let them know why we’re working on getting things in order, or getting food ready, etc. Often this brings on a plethora of teaching opportunities as your children may give you resistance, but it also gives them a wonderful sense of ownership in loving the people who come over.

4) Don’t let parenting and hospitality compete, let them complement. In other words, don’t sacrifice parenting for hospitality or vice versa. If you’re consumed with making your home perfect to the detriment and neglect of your children, that’s a failure all around. Hospitality is an opportunity to teach and better parent your children. Use hospitality to your children’s great benefit.

Or, if you abandon hospitality because it’s just too much work to do it alongside parenting, again, you’re missing the boat. If you’re not hospitable while children are afoot, you cannot bequeath that characteristic to them. And chances are you won’t magically start being hospitable when they turn 8 or 9 or 14 or 15. The pattern will be set.

5) While you can engage your children to help with many things, they can’t help with everything and that’s right and good. They learn by watching. Also, while you do the grown-up jobs, it is another time to teach them to play together peacefully (we aim high and fail often here!).

I often tell the kids they can each pick one toy or book to play with while I set about the grown-up jobs. This is good discipline for them. It helps them to explore all the fun ways you can play with ONE toy. And they often play together, because then they have access to the toys their siblings picked. This keeps messes to a minimum and creativity to the maximum.

6) Expect everything to go wrong. Because it will. You might think the children are playing quietly with their one-toy-a-piece when really they’ve just made a disaster area out of the basement. You may have the bathrooms polished a day in advance, only to have the three-year-old smear toothpaste on the hand towel, wall and floor, while the baby unrolls the toilet paper, again.

You may lay out the best, most inspiring vision for hospitality, only to have your child respond selfishly, with, “but I don’t want anyone else to sit in my chair!” All I can say is, persevere. It’s worth it. They’ll get it eventually. Not perfectly, not all the time, but in bits and pieces, they’ll start to love hospitality, they’ll love loving others, and hopefully they’ll love our hospitable God who inspires and commands it for His people.

7) Remember that it’s more important to do it wrong than not to do it. Say what?! Yes. Have people over, have everything go wrong with the kids not helping and the house not ready and the coffee unmade. Let people in. Turn down the voice in your head that can’t let go of all the things that are screaming at you as you walk through the house. The spot of who-knows-what under the kitchen chair; the smudges and handprints on the sliding door; the messy bed in your son’s room. Turn that voice OFF!

People have entered your home, you owe all your care and attention to the souls under your roof, not the dish left in the sink. It’s time to be Mary, not Martha.

8) Finally, make sure that even as you teach your children to be hospitable in your and their home, also be hospitable to them. While your children are not guests, they also are not going to be there forever. Take time to serve them and treat them with special honor, just as you want them to do to others. Children who’ve tasted what it’s like to be served and honored selflessly will have a better idea of how to do it for others. And more than that, they are worth it.

I hope you’re encouraged to be hospitable through the years of young children and messy parenting. Let the welcoming and tender care of your loving Father inspire you. He welcomes us because of His great love for us, love that comes at great and unthinkable cost to Himself. What a God we serve.

how children are provoked to anger, and what to do instead

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family, kiddos, , , 5 Comments on how children are provoked to anger, and what to do instead

Mark Altrogge at The Blazing Center had this insightful list of ways that children are provoked to anger. It was very helpful for me.

Here’s what he had to say about how children are provoked to anger:

“- By constantly criticizing them and not encouraging them.  When they feel they can never please us enough.
– By having double standards – Do as I say, not as I do.  Expecting them to do things we don’t do, e.g. ask forgiveness, humble themselves, etc.
– By anger and harshness
– By a lack of affection
– By telling them what to do or not do without giving Biblical reasons (e.g., Do it because I said to do it, or because it’s just wrong).
– By being offended at their sin because it bothers us, not because it offends God.
– By comparing them to others (Why can’t you act like your sister?)
– By hypocrisy – acting like a Christian at church but not at home
– By embarrassing them (correcting, mocking or expressing disappointment in them in front of others)
– By always lecturing them and never listening to them
– By disciplining them for childishness or weakness, not for sin
– By failing to ask their forgiveness when we sin against them
– By pride – failing to receive humble correction from our spouses or our children when we sin.
– By self-centered reactions to their sin (How could you do this to ME?)
– By ungracious reactions to their sin (What were you thinking?  Why in the world would you do that?)
– By forgetting that we were (and are) sinners (I would NEVER have done that when I was your age).

May God give us gracious, gentle, humble, affectionate hearts toward our children.”

Reading this makes me pray, pray and pray some more that Jesus would work in my kids’ lives despite their mom’s sins. I thought it would be helpful to turn this list into a positive “to do,” to go along with the “not-to-do.”  Sometimes I do better when I have a target to aim at, not only a boogey man to avoid. Both are good.

So, “Let us consider how to stir up one another (esp. our children) to love and good works.. encouraging one another and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” Hebrews 10:24

Here’s the “how-to version” to stir up our children to love and good works:

– By encouraging them and letting them know how pleased and delighted we are with them. By pointing out the grace of God in their daily life.

– By setting an example in our daily walk with the Lord. Modeling humility. By expecting the same standard out of ourselves as we do out of our children.

– By being loving and brokenhearted when they sin. By sacrificing our own comfort and to-do list for the day to bring them back to fellowship with us and the family.

– By open and tender affection.

– By showing them examples from the Bible that they can understand and identify with to lead them towards the Lord.

– By being brokenhearted (not in a manipulative way) about their sin, because of its offense to God, yet being hopeful for their growth.

– By seeing them as uniquely formed and made by God for a purpose.

– By being consistent in our walk with God and our attitude toward them.

– By honoring them privately and, on occasion, publicly.

– By listening to their side and hearing the heart underneath.

– By bearing with their weaknesses and childishness. By being consistent in discipline for sin.

– By asking for forgiveness when we sin against them.

– By humbly receiving correction from our spouse or our children when we sin.

– By reacting to their sin with a concern for their soul.

– By graciously responding to their sin with firmness and lion-hearted love.

– By remembering who we were and who we are: fellow sinners with our children and (hopefully) co-heirs of Jesus with them as well.

reflections from the middle; I love The Two Towers.

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family7 Comments on reflections from the middle; I love The Two Towers.

I’m not sure when it happened, just recently I suppose, but I have entered a middle stage of life.  The beginning of the middle is what I’d call it.

My marriage is in the middle.  8 years doesn’t qualify us as newlyweds, but we haven’t been married long enough to have much street cred.  We’ve been married long enough to know each others’ flaws, but not long enough to have made total peace with them.  We’ve been married long enough that when we see googly-eyed engaged couples, we know we were that stupid once.  And we also know that we love each other way more now than we did then.

My mothering is in the middle.  Yes, I have a newborn, but I also have a 6 1/2 year old.  I know enough to know I don’t know much.  I know enough to know I can’t take all the credit for their pro’s or all the heat for their con’s.  I also know enough to know I have to keep trying.  Keep training in the instruction of the Lord.  The results aren’t in yet.

My friendships are in the middle.  Old friends are far away.  The memories of life with them have grown sweeter as time has marched on.  New friends have morphed into middle friends.  They haven’t yet gained the trust and security of old friends, but the time of discovery about similarities and differences has past.  The tipping point has either come or is coming.  They will either hang in there and head toward old friend status, or pull up and become peripheral.

The middle is tricky.  And I’m quick to think of it as my least favorite part when compared with the beginning and the end.  But then I remember The Two Towers.

You know, the part where Frodo and Sam wander and persevere through Mordor.  The part where Merry finds his courage.  The part where the ents make their final march. The part where Aragorn discovers his strength and leads them to victory at Helms Deep.  The part where Arwen keeps the faith for Aragorn, even though they are separated.  The part where Legolas and Gimli forge a bond that overcomes prejudice.  The part where Pip says, “The closer we are to danger, the farther we are from harm.  It’s the last thing he’ll expect.” Yeah.  That part.  I love that part.

The middle is the best part.  It’s where the action happens.  It’s the part that you look back on later and relish.

Or, as my parents tell me, “These are the good old days.”

So, here’s to “the building years.”  Call it what you will, I say, saddle up.  Time to enjoy the middle.

to serve is to suffer

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, culture, everyday, family, , 3 Comments on to serve is to suffer

“..people like John Calvin and Martin Luther had a dizzying variety of responsibilities, so that they could only use their gifts in the fog of fatigue. Yet the fruits of their labor as leaders and writers still bless the church.”

-Ajith Fernando writing for CT in his article, To Serve is to Suffer

This is true even for lowly stay-home moms.  With schooling at home fast approaching, sleepless nights due to an almost three year old (the newborn sleeps just fine:), and life pressing in with aching bodies and crazy schedules, my “gifts” are often, if not always, used in the fog of fatigue.

I pray there will be enough of Christ’s grace over my daily work that some of it will survive the testing fires and be useful for the church: my family, my small group, my friends, etc.

He goes one to say:

“The New Testament is clear that those who work for Christ will suffer because of their work. Tiredness, stress, and strain may be the cross God calls us to. Paul often spoke about the physical hardships his ministry brought him, including emotional strain (Gal. 4:19; 2 Cor. 11:28), anger (2 Cor. 11:29), sleepless nights and hunger (2 Cor. 6:5), affliction and perplexity (2 Cor. 4:8), and toiling—working to the point of weariness (Col. 1:29). In statements radically countercultural in today’s “body conscious” society, he said, “Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day” (2 Cor. 4:16)”

Paul’s sacrifice puts my miniscule one into perspective.  I need to get up, be thankful for sleepless nights with children (it means I’m enjoying the gift of having children), put my arms to cheerful action, teach, clean, instruct, love, work, serve.  Expect difficulty and persevere.

Preaching to myself this morning, folks.

teaching children to fear God and trust Him during a storm

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family, kiddos, , 5 Comments on teaching children to fear God and trust Him during a storm

We had severe thunderstorms with tornado sightings close by just a couple nights ago.

The kids know what the tornado sirens mean and are simultaneously excited and scared when they hear them.  On Saturday they rushed around grabbing their most beloved stuffed animals before racing downstairs to watch Dave Dahl and the weather radar on channel 5 (Dave is hands-down the best weather guy in the Twin Cities).

The sky turned dark and things seemed very still as we waited for the wind and rain.  Then it was upon us.  I could see our birch tree in front bent over practically in half.

Here’s an opportunity to help our kids fear God and trust Him.  And here’s a list of ways to do that:

1) Affirm that, yes, God is behind this storm.  He created and controls the weather.

Genesis 1:1 In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

Isaiah 44:24 Thus says the LORD, your Redeemer, who formed you from the womb: “I am the LORD, who made all things, who alone stretched out the heavens, who spread out the earth by myself..

2) Affirm that, yes, the weather is scary and God is not a pansy God.  He is not gumdrops and sugarplums.  He is to be feared.  He holds our lives and tornadoes in His hands.

Psalm 66:16 Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what he has done for my soul.

Psalm 40:3 Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord.

3) This storm is an expression of God’s love and grace for those who are in Christ Jesus.  This is not God’s wrath on us, even if it were to topple our home and take our lives.  We are protected from His wrath, because when we trust in Jesus and His work on the cross, we are now counted righteous and beloved in Christ.

Romans 8:28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Romans 5:9 Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.

4) God is gracious, not only to His children, but to all people.  We can thank Him for His common grace in things like weather radars and tornado sirens and basements and cell phones and flash lights.

Psalm 145:9 The Lord is good to all, and his mercy is over all that he has made.

5) As we rightly fear God, we are pushed to trust Him and run to Him for refuge.  Our God is a refuge.  He is an ever-present Help in times of trouble.

Psalm 46:1-3 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

6) Our God, the ever-present Help, hears us as we call to Him in prayer.  What an opportunity for kids to find their comfort in God as they pray to Him amid strong feelings of fear.

Psalm 18:6 In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears.

I think the temptation we have as parents is to say to our kids, “It’s ok.  Nothing bad is going to happen.  God will protect us from this storm.”  Which, on the concrete level that kids operate on, is unmistakably false and deep down they know it.

They know that we can’t guarantee that the storm won’t knock our house down.  They’re children, they’re not stupid.

On a deeper level, it’s true, but incomplete.  “Nothing bad is going to happen.. because we trust that even things we feel as bad, God is working for our good for those who love Him.”  And, “God will protect us from this storm.. because we trust in Jesus for the forgiveness of our sins and salvation of our soul even if we were to die tonight.”

My challenge as a parent is to gently show them the true God of the Bible and not make up a God that is palatable for them (or me).  They need to see that God is to be feared and trusted.  They need to be in awe of God as they run to hide in the shadow of His wing.

If they don’t get this when they’re young, making sense of the fearsome acts of the Old Testament may shake their faith as adults.  And Jesus’ bold and penetrating way of talking in the New Testament will be indecipherable for them.

Our children watch us to see how we respond in scary situations.  So, perhaps the biggest thing we can do is give them a peek at what’s going on inside of us.  Let them see that our faith is not theoretical, it’s real.

Here’s a photo of a bad storm from 2 summers ago.  We had to replace our siding, but the kids thought the hail was amazing!!!

taking some morbid advice: funeral planning

By: Abigail Dodds
body of Christ, everyday, family8 Comments on taking some morbid advice: funeral planning

I was thinking about death and funerals the other day.

Don’t freak out, this is not in any way an indication of something dire.  I don’t expect to die for many decades.  The Lord knows.  I just would like to make sure that somewhere out there I’ve given a few instructions about what I would and wouldn’t like for my funeral.

1) I’d prefer that the visitation be the time when memories or reminiscing happens and that at the actual funeral a sermon is given, not a free for all of sharing.  If one or two people who were close to me want to share a eulogy at the funeral, no problem, but I think the main place for that should be at the visitation.

2) I’d like the sermon to be a no holds bar presentation of the Gospel, complete with a picture of heaven and hell.

3) I’d like plenty of singing.  As much as people can stand.  Must-have songs (as of now) are: It is Well, In Christ Alone, Fly to Jesus (not sure that’s the actual name of it).  Special music would be great.

4) If there’s a reception afterwards with food, (I don’t care whether there is or isn’t, but if there is) I want there to be laughter.  Some of my fondest memories with cousins were at funeral receptions for my grandmothers.  I hope any kids who were at the funeral feel freed up to enjoy the reception.

5) If part of people’s reminiscing is negative, I don’t mind.  I’m a sinner.  I’m certain that my sins have effected people in unhappy ways.  If people need to work through this, I hope they feel they can talk about my sinfulness, with an understanding of God’s grace.

6) I hope the funeral is sad, with a strong undercurrent of hope.  Funerals are supposed to be for mourning and sadness.  Stuffing the sad part in favor of a “she’s in a better place” smile, if it’s not what’s actually felt, is fake.  Feel the sadness, feel the hope.  Sorrowful, yet rejoicing.

7) I don’t care what happens to my body.  If it’s buried, fine.  If it’s cremated, fine.  God formed me the first time around and He can form back together whatever remnants of my body remain on the last day.

That’s all I’ve got for now.  Do you have any particular funeral instructions?  Have you thought about it?