As the words of our song reverberated through the Russian cathedral, the memory of those moments etched itself on my soul. Our mission team had come to tour the church. Inspired by the sanctuary’s beauty, we sang God’s praise from the balcony. Never had I heard more beautiful acoustics.
On our way out, a woman who worked in the cathedral spoke to our translator. With tears in her eyes, she explained how she’d prayed for years to hear God praised in another language. Who knew our spontaneous worship would be the answer to a fellow believer’s prayer?
Moments like this feel like ministry. Surrounded by beauty. Inspired by answered prayer. Serving in a country on the other side of the planet.
Parenting, on the other hand, can feel like anything but ministry. Surrounded by messes. Exhausted by relentless needs. Serving in the very real spaces we call home.
It’s easy to think ministry happens out there through people with seminary degrees and a profound sense of calling.
But what if Jesus views parenting as ministry? And if he does, what does the ministry of parenting look like?
Applause erupted as our daughter stood to receive her third award of the evening. She beamed with excitement while walking on stage. I listened to the praise of both her teachers and peers. My heart swelled with joy. Their words confirmed what I already knew—she’s an incredible kid.
At the same time, I ached for her brother, who received no awards that night. He’s an amazing kid, too. He did well in his classes, and his kind, fun-loving personality won him many friends. Still, he took home no awards.
Oh, the depth of conflicting emotions a parent’s heart can hold in the same moment.
On the way home, our son commented, “I wonder why I didn’t get any awards.” I turned in the front passenger seat and looked at him with compassion. I’ve experienced these gut-wrenching feelings before, too. I know what it’s like to anticipate affirmation and come away disappointed. I know how hard it is to celebrate with a friend while trying to mask my own pain.
How can we help our kids deal with rejection?
For 6 ideas on preparing them for both disappointment and success, hop over to Crosswalk:
“I’m your follower!” announced my preschooler in a sing-song voice as she tagged along at my heels. I smiled at her candor, enjoying her company.
Then, the profound truth of her words settled into my soul. My follower. My shadow. A nearly inseparable part of my being during this life season. She watches and continually learns from me (as do her older siblings).
Our children are, quite literally, our followers. Like little disciples, they instinctively look to us as examples, teachers, and leaders. What a privilege! We have the opportunity to introduce them to Jesus, live out the gospel, and model faith in daily life.
And yet, what a sobering responsibility. I don’t know about you, but sometimes this strikes fear in my heart. What if I get it wrong? What about all the times I fall short of being the perfect parent I long to be?
In moments of worry and doubt, we need God to speak truth to our souls.
For eight reminders that can equip us to live well as Christian parents, hop over to Crosswalk:
Is His love swayed by your productivity? Must you work hard to keep Him happy? Do you wonder if He’s disappointed with your struggles and frustrated by your frailty?
Joining us today on this topic is my dear friend, Lori Hatcher. Yesterday, she launched her newest book Refresh Your Faith, Uncommon Devotions from Every Book of the Bible. (Grab your own copy here.)
The following post comes from her book, based on a passage from Isaiah.*
“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”
(Isaiah 40:11)
The early chapters of the Book of Isaiah begin with cinematography that would make the most epic 3-D film look like a kindergartener’s cartoon.
Isaiah describes smoke, thunderous noise, and angelic multitudes crying out in praise before almighty God in his temple. His heavenly glimpse of God in his throne room fills him with awe and fear. “Woe to me!” he cries. “I am ruined!”
Other Scriptures reinforce this image of God, describing him as the Conquering King, Righteous Judge, Mighty Warrior, and Powerful Sovereign. It describes how the oceans churn or quiet at God’s command. One word from God speaks the world into existence. Another has the power to send it up in smoke. With a flick of his mighty arm, thunderbolts fly from heaven. An angry glance from his all-seeing eyes causes the earth to swallow those who disobey his commands.
“See,” Isaiah 40:10 says, “the Sovereign LORD comes with power, and this arm rules for him.”
No doubt about it, God is strong. And God is active.
I’ve always admired these attributes of God (even though I find them more than slightly terrifying), because I like strength and activity. I’m a doer, not a sitter, character traits that fit well with my assumption that God expected me to be like him and work hard on his behalf.
But then I had children.
And my busy, do-lots-of-stuff-for-God life came to a screeching halt. Forget teaching a class, working on the bus ministry, or helping with every function the church sponsored. I could barely get myself and my baby dressed and out the door to attend worship on Sundays.
Then my baby had colic (which I wouldn’t subject any nursery worker in the world to). After colic, she had separation anxiety. She was three years old before she’d go into a toddler class so I could attend adult Sunday school again.
Six months later, her sister was born, and I was back to barely making it to church on Sundays.
My days of do-it-all ministry had come to an end. As far as the kingdom was concerned, I was useless.
A taker instead of a giver.
A dead weight on the gospel ship.
My heart sank to think how disappointed God must be with me. Then I read Isaiah 40:11:
“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”
Suddenly, I understood that the Mighty Warrior was also a tender shepherd.
The Conquering King stoops down to lift the fragile and the frail.
The Righteous Judge carries his children, not as a burden on his back, but as a treasure near his heart.
The Powerful Sovereign gently leads those who are emotionally tender and physically sapped – and boy, did that describe me in those early childrearing years.
Through Isaiah’s beautiful picture of God, I learned I didn’t have to be productive for God to love me. I didn’t have to perform to earn his favor. I was free to accept what I saw as my season of “inactivity,” knowing that God had not only ordained it, but had a good plan for it.
In his tenderness, he would carry me through my season of mothering if I would rest in him and allow him to lead me.
Isaiah’s picture of God gently leading those with young gave me permission to be frail and vulnerable, knowing that he wouldn’t drive me with his rod, but lead me with his shepherd’s crook.
My children are grown now, and I’m “busy” for the Lord again. As I look back on those childrearing years, I see that they were not fruitless. Once I realized that different seasons of life bring new (and often different) opportunities to minister, I was free to embrace each season instead of chafe at it.
I learned to look for ways to be Jesus’ hands and feet wherever I was, knowing that each day was ripe with potential. And I never again worried that I wasn’t productive enough to satisfy him.
I rested in the fact that the Great I AM is not frustrated by our frailties or impatient with our humanity. Instead, he willingly takes the place of a shepherd to lead with us through our earthly journey.
Uncommon Thought The Great I AM is not frustrated by our frailties or impatient with our humanity. Instead, he willingly takes the place of a shepherd to lead with us through our earthly journey.
Unusual Faith Think a moment about your perception of God. Do you see him as a stern taskmaster, demanding and hard to please?
Or do you see him as a shepherd, gentle and understanding toward your frailties? Do you feel as though you never measure up? That you can’t do enough to please him, especially if you’re in a season of life when you feel unproductive?
Spend time meditating on Isaiah 40:11. Imagine yourself as the lamb the prophet writes about. Picture yourself in the arms of the Savior, carried close to his heart.
Ask God to lead you into a greater understanding of his love and care for you. Then follow where he leads you, trusting that he will use you for his glory, no matter what season of life you’re in.
Unfamiliar Passage Read Isaiah 40:9-13.
*(A Sample Devotion from Refresh Your Faith, Uncommon Devotions from Every Book of the Bible by Lori Hatcher)
What will our kids remember from these history-making times in which we’re living?
As the Coronavirus spreads across the globe, our kids are trying to make sense of things, just as we parents are. They hear the news stories. They see the empty grocery store shelves. They wonder if someone they know will come down with the virus next. They feel the loneliness of social distancing and worry that their summer plans may end up cancelled before this is all over.
How can we help them thrive and build positive memories of these days spent at home?
You may have heard the following saying:
“People may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel.”
– Carl W. Buechner
Right now, the days are rich with opportunities to help our kids experience the following emotions:
Enjoyed
Extended time at home means lots of togetherness. Instead of being distracted, each on our own device, let’s be intentional about having fun together. Dust off those board games. Bake some cookies with your kids. Pull out your favorite childhood books and read them aloud. Enjoy a picnic in the backyard and play frisbee while you’re out there.
Thankful
It’s all too easy to focus on what we’re missing and fixate on what we don’t have. But now’s a great time to take inventory of all the good things we do enjoy. Give each family member an index card and take time to count your blessings. Add to this list each day.
Secure
The world may be in a panic and people may be stockpiling toilet paper, but at home, let’s cultivate a feeling of security and camaraderie. Invite open conversations where everyone can freely discuss what they’re thinking and feeling. Remind each other often of your love. Seek to create a haven where each person feels safe, understood, and encouraged to thrive.
Hopeful
This won’t be the only time our kids face scary situations. How we handle things now can prepare them to face the future with confidence. Remind each other of ways you’ve seen God answer prayer. Talk often of His faithfulness in the past – both to you and to other believers. (Reading missionary stories is a great way to do this.*)
Above all, keep coming back to Jesus as our Rock in unstable times (Psalm 61:2). Read the Psalms together and discuss what you learn about Him there. Spend time praying with one another. Verbalize your faith that God works all things out for our good (Romans 8:28).
The days ahead are rich with family-building, faith-cultivating opportunities. With intentionality, we can help our kids feel enjoyed, thankful, secure, and full of hope.
They’ll remember these feelings for the rest of their lives.
*Christian Heroes: Then and Now and the Trailblazer Books are our family’s favorite missionary story series.
“Thank You, God, that we got to have waffles for breakfast. Thank You that we played Uno today. Thank You that we went to Pop and Tutu’s for dinner. Thank You for my jammies and my stuffed monkey and my pillow and…”
I stifled an impatient sigh as my five-year old prayed back through her day, giving thanks for both big and little blessings. Her prayer must have delighted God’s heart, but for this weary mom, it prolonged what I had hoped would be a quick goodnight.
By bedtime prayers each evening, I am done. Ready to tuck everyone in, hoping they don’t boomerang too many times for another sip of water or help with a scary shadow or one more trip to the potty. My to-do list is usually still running and I long for some down time before heading to bed and starting all over again tomorrow.
Sometimes it takes a kindergartener to give perspective on life’s truly important details…
“In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thessalonians 5:18).
Everything.
In every situation, every single day, we’re surrounded by expressions of our Father’s loving heart. It’s easy to get distracted by my next responsibility and miss the beauty of the moment. I tend to focus on what I want or need from God, while forgetting to notice the many things He’s already given me. And sometimes, life is just really hard. Gratitude is the last thing on my mind.
Yet God calls us to give thanks – He knows it does our hearts good. It turns our focus heavenward and deepens our love for the One who loved us first.
As we embark on this holiday season, let’s determine to cultivate thankfulness – not just for one day in the middle of two hectic months, but every day. Here are a couple of ways to practice gratitude together as a family:
Play the Alphabet Thankfulness Game
Sometimes while driving between lessons or errands, we play the Alphabet Thankfulness Game. Starting with A, we call out things we’re thankful God has given to us: apples, bunnies, cars, Daddy, etc. It’s a fun way to remind ourselves of God’s abundant goodness.
Record your blessings
Set out a journal or a basket with index cards and pens. Encourage family members to write down things for which they are thankful any time a blessing comes to mind. Our family uses a special “Blessing Box” – it’s currently sitting on my grandmothers’ hutch. In addition to dropping in cards describing out blessings, we also include prayer requests (and we try to remember to record how God answers).
In every season, Our Father delights in being good to His children. Every good thing comes from Him. Let’s ask Him to help us recognize His blessings and lead our children in cultivating a lifestyle of gratitude.
