Fear Fires

 Since I was a little girl, one of the most common things I experienced was fear. Fear of the dark, fear of being alone, fear of punishment. It still creeps up more than I care to admit; fear of bad stuff happening to my kids, fear of the unknown, fear of change. Fear has a way of shaping our thoughts, altering our decision making, and eclipsing our faith. As much as I hate to admit it, fear has played a role in the times that I should have spoken up about something but didn't. I've let fear damage my relationships to the point where I've lost friendships. I've even let fear hijack my mouth when parenting my kids. It's like a fire that can cause great damage, and spreads quickly. How many times has a teensy fear spread like wildfire until I'm completely paralyzed? Too many to count. And sometimes, the damage is so great that I don't know how God could rebuild. Thankfully, His ability to rebuild triumphs over any destruction caused by those fearful fires. What do we do when we see a fear fire pop up? Do we try to stop it, or do we allow it to etch a devastating path in our minds, dreams, and relationships? 

One of the first fire safety tips I learned taught me what to do if my clothes ever caught on fire. Do you remember learning "Stop, Drop and Roll?" Thankfully, I've never had my clothes catch on fire, but maybe this tip can be repurposed into what we can do when we're afraid.

STOP.

The tendency I have is to let fear run its course until the "fire" is so big that it's nearly impossible to put out. I'll use a real life fear that I have to show you how it happens inside my head. If I am snippy with the kids, it looks like this:

Snippy with the kids ---> emotional wounds are caused ---> they'll never forgive me ---> they'll grow up deficient in love ---> they'll have unhealthy relationships ---> they'll end up in counseling ---> or jail ---> or worse

Sad, isn't it? Now although those things could potentially happen (I did carry them to extremes), I'm letting things that haven't even happened steal my joy as if they were really happening. It's true that me being snippy could hurt the kids, but if I focus on the fear, I can't have vision for how to course correct in the here and now. So when fear fires start, the best thing to do is stop.

Stop the fear in its tracks by refusing a chain of fears to be perpetuated. Stop, and capture the thought.

We take hold of every thought and make it obey Christ. 2 Corinthians 10:5

To every fear that lights up, yell "Freeze! Halt! Stop in the name of the law!" Is that fear something that would come from the heart of the One who wants to give you peace, joy, and wholeness? No. And in the case of my example fear, the solution can be as simple as me humbly apologizing. Then God can do something amazing like turn my Mom fail into a lesson for the kids to know what to do when they hurt someone, and show them that He is there to heal their hearts. He's good like that.

DROP. 

This is the opposite of the fight or flight response. Sometimes fear makes me fight; fight with the joy and peace that are trying to rule my heart. Sometimes fear makes me run; run from opportunities. But what I should do is drop; drop to my knees and give my fear to God. After all, He's the one whose shoulders are big enough to carry everything that's weighing me down. Prayer is like a fire hose that shoots water on hungry flames. Because the focus shifts from "how am I going to get through this fear?" to "God, You are big enough to handle this fear." 

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Philippians 4:6

When fear rears up its fiery head, drop to your knees (or drop what you're doing or thinking) and pray. Let worry be the fire alarm that a fear is blazing, and let prayer be the immediate action you take. This fear may be bigger than your scope of knowledge, but it's not bigger than God's. And in faith, thank Him for taking care of the matter, and taking care of you.

ROLL.

Rolling smothers out the flames by depriving them of oxygen; without oxygen, a fire goes out. Rolling around in God's goodness deprives fear of the power that it has to overshadow every good thing we have been given. It's hard to focus on ourselves when we are getting swallowed up into the goodness of God. 

The Lord is my light and my salvation—  so why should I be afraid? The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble? Psalm 27:1

With the focusing of our minds on the power and majesty of God, the tables are turned. We no longer are cowering at the unchecked inferno of our fears, we are bowing at the greatness of God. Suddenly the power that fear once had is extinguished, and it is no more. If God is for us, who (or what) can be against us? There are shadows of the unknown, but God is light. There are hidden dangers, but God is our way, truth, and life. 

Stop. Drop. Roll. And give fear a reason to turn tail and run.

What's In Your Lunch?

Have you ever seen someone using their gifts and think, "Man, I wish I could do that!"? Like your friend who is an amazing cook or baker, or super athletic, or can organize like nobody's business? You see them in action and it moves you.  Inspires you. Makes you want to dig in deeper and be a better version of you; yeah, that kind of person. I am inspired by lots of those people too. However, there's a little guy in the Bible that inspires the daylights out of me. And I don't even know his name.

There's a story in the gospels about a certain crowd that is estimated to be in the tens of thousands who is hungry. I'm married with four kids, and I can attest to being intimidated by 5 hungry people. But if the 5 were tens of thousands looking to me to feed them? I might be tempted to toss a fistful of glitter in the air, squeak out a nervous "See ya!" and high tail it out of there. The funny thing is that Jesus wasn't flustered at all. His friends however, were.

This, my friends, this is where a big problem becomes the beginning of a miracle. Because in the crowd is a little boy who happens to have a small lunch with him (his Mom was probably a type A, but I digress) that consists of 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish. Enough for a little guy- but not even a drop in the bucket for the sea of humanity surrounding him. Later on though, Jesus says this about the loaves and fishes..."Bring them here." I feel that same invitation is one that He gives us today.

What's in your "lunch"? In other words, what have you been gifted with? Now you might be thinking, "OK, I do have this little gift, but it's nothing like Johnny P's or Susie Q's." And I would agree; it's nothing like his or hers. Because it's YOURS. It's the only "you version" of that gift in this entire world, and that's what makes it special. Which may lead to you thinking, "True, but what difference can I make?" And I might agree on that count too- because you're only one person. But my dear one, there's the God factor.

That little boy's lunch was proportionate to his size, but not even close to the size of the crowd. However, when the God factor entered into the picture, when the boy was willing to give it, and when Jesus took it and blessed it and divided it, the bread kept coming. The fish kept coming. That little boy's eyes must have grown like saucers when he saw his lunch that once fit into a little basket be multiplied to fill a boat load of baskets, all because he was willing, and there was a God who was all powerful. If you choose to offer up your hospitality, or your influence, or your administration abilities to God, the ideas will keep coming. The opportunities will keep coming. The resources will keep coming.

If God could create something out of nothing, He can certainly create something out of something, no matter how small. In your hands, your talents have a limited potential. In God's hands, they have a limitless potential. 

There is no talent too small that it can't be multiplied in the hands of a miraculous God. The only variable there is will be what you decide to do when Jesus says to you, "Bring it here." 

So what's in your lunch? You've been given a gift from God. There are ingredients in your lunch that are unlike any in the world. No matter how raw, or small in your estimation, you have something to give, and it was given to you by God. Choose to see your gifts through God's eyes.  Choose to listen to His call when He says, "Bring it here." And may your eyes grow like saucers when you watch your lunch for one feed multitudes. The crowds are hungry. The Savior is waiting. It's your cue.

Of Bath Robes and Silly Putty

Embedded in the fibers of my bathrobe is SILLY PUTTY.

It was an ordinary day last week when I noticed it. I went to pick up my beautiful L.L. Bean light purple bathrobe that my husband got me last Christmas, when I noticed that interrupting the bright color was another color. A light beige gummy texture had adhered to the terry. That's when it hit me: someone had put Silly Putty on my bath robe. I felt the mercury rising in my frustration-o-meter. "This is one of the only nicer things I own, and now it has SILLY PUTTY on it?!?!" I channeled my inner Sherlock Holmes, and pieced together a plausible story that explained this minor tragedy. Janessa (my 6 year old) was probably playing with the sinister goo, and instead of putting it back safely in its egg shaped case, she left it to its own devices. The putty then decided to make extra friendly with my bath robe, and the rest as they say, is history.

My frustration peaked again yesterday when I discovered that my newly organized bedroom  had ended up in a state of minor disarray. My spaciously streamlined dresser was now covered in various art pieces by Janessa. The Monopoly card game that I had tossed in my bedroom's waste basket had been resurrected again, and placed in a pile on the floor. "I JUST cleaned this room!!!! What is this?!?!" Steve and I have joked around through the years that there's only one word for mysterious messes, broken belongings, and abolished agendas. Sabotage.

Being a Mom has been one of the most honored privileges that I am blessed to be part of. I used to dream of what my kids would look like, sound like, and grow up to be. And yet, being a Mom, sometimes I get trapped in discontentment in the here and now. Being a Mom has chiseled me into a learned Type A. I make plans, I write lists, I clean messes. Sometimes I get frustrated when the kids take my two steps forward and turn into one step backward. And then I remember lyrics to a song by Trace Adkins called, "You're Gonna Miss This":

You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this

Discontentment settles like an itch on the skin of my soul, and instantly I'm tempted to scratch it with wishing away. Wishing away the frustrations, the messes, the ages and the stages. The "Why can'ts" and the "Someday when's" connect with my current irritations, and I'm given the false hope that the future will be better in some way shape or form. But the truth is that even if today's troubles are over, tomorrow will have new ones. I'm past children in diapers, but teens dating are ahead of me. I'm done with teething, but wisdom teeth are yet to come. I may have navigated through training wheels, but I'm raising 4 future student drivers. Shocking, but true.

I look at my bath robe in a new light. The stubborn substance enmeshed into those thirsty threads was placed there by the dainty fingers of a little girl who is absolutely priceless. A girl who uses those hands to draw me pictures of Mommy and baby animals, because she treasures the mother daughter relationship so much. 

A girl who grows a little older every day. A girl who will one day be a teenager, who'll be a young woman. A girl who I will one day try to wish back, because I miss her so much. Though I won't be able to bring her back, but what I can do is celebrate today.

This is the day that the Lord has made.
    Let us rejoice and be glad today! Psalm 118:24

Today, she is 6 and lives at home. She goes to kindergarten half the day, and comes home to eat lunch with me. She is my mini me in a million different ways. She has a feisty sense of humor. Today, I will celebrate who she is. Today, I will celebrate where each of my kids is at. Today is a day not for wishing away, but for slow savoring. So slow that when today becomes 20 years ago, I'll still have the taste of these fleeting days on my palate. I'll probably forget about the bath robe with Silly Putty. However the Janessa of today, I'm going to miss her. Let's look at the temporal in the light of the eternal. Let's overlook today's pebbles in the light of life's big milestones. After all, today's "sabotages" are tomorrows sweetest memories.

The Love Boat

The year was 2001. The ship was the Carnival Paradise. And my dear Mr. Martin and I were on our honeymoon. Our cheeks were still sore from smiling too much on our wedding day. The ink on our marriage license was still wet. We were deliriously happy, for we had God and each other, for the rest of our lives. Little did we know that we were heading into the first storm of our marriage.

I had a history of sea sickness, but I was told that the ship was so big that I wouldn't "feel" the rocking. Our room was strategically in the best place on the ship- towards the middle and nearly at the bottom. But despite the position of our cabin on that ship, that very first night we sailed into a nasty storm. We looked outside the small, rain streaked window of our cabin and saw the black, angry, churning waters. The sky was dark gray and menacing. The rain fell in sheets. Then I felt it- my stomach churning with the same intensity as the water. I was miserably sea sick.

"This CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" I thought. "This is our honeymoon! I am ruining everything...what is he going to do? Is it going to be like this the whole week we're here?" I felt sad for both of us. This wasn't what we planned on. He deserved so much better. My internal dialogue was interrupted by Steve placing his strong hand gently on my back. I had no idea, but I was just about to find out what kind of man I was married to.

He tenderly stroked my back while I was sick. Every once in a while he whispered, "It's going to be OK." "I'm so sorry, Honey." "I'll get some help for you." I realized that even though the storm was raging outside, and within my body, that I was mysteriously suspended in the eye of the storm- my husband's love. As the waves of sickness continued, I was marveling at this love that I had never known before. He wasn't angry. He wasn't indifferent. He wasn't leaving. He was there to stay. Tears of gratitude streaked down my face as I discovered that love could go deeper than I had the capacity to dream. 

Eventually, the week got better. The seas calmed, the sun came out, and with the help of copious amounts of Dramamine, we got our sea legs. We laughed. We enjoyed seeing mango trees, feeling powdery white sand under our feet, and wading into the warm-as-bath-water Caribbean Sea. Oddly enough, even after the horrible sea sickness I endured, to this day I remember my honeymoon as glorious because among other things, it was the week that God showed me the first glimpse of who He had picked to love me in sickness and in health. 

We were only on the cruise ship 7 days, but as we would learn over the course of our marriage, storms come to both sea faring folk and land dwellers alike. Some started inside me. Some started inside him. Storms that caught us both by surprise. Storms that would shatter our hearts against the jagged rocks of adversity. Storms so big that we couldn't see their end. Surgeries. Positive test results. Job shakiness. Secrets. Selfishness. Adding babies (and a dog). Church changes. Friends and family moving away. Anxiety. Depression. School. Financial difficulty. And through it all, I've seen a clearer and clearer picture of the faithfulness of my husband, and the unshakable nature of our God.

Storms find their way into all of our marriages. I bet if we compared notes, you'd have a deep stack of storms too. You might even be in the middle of one right now. Sometimes our storms found us sobbing in each other's arms- other times we seemed miles apart in bed as we burned the midnight oil hacking through awkward silence with deliberate communication and knots in our stomachs. Other times we would pray, sometimes not even knowing what to say. In the uncertainty of a tempest, without knowing how long it will last or how we can get it to stop, we know that just as the captain of the Carnival Paradise steered us through that intense squall, the Captain of our Love Boat is even more faithful. He is steering us through. He gives us everything we need to come out on the other side- Himself. In the middle of our love knot, He is the solder that keeps us fused together. Our love in itself isn't strong enough to keep us together, but His love is.

How is the view out of the window of your Love Boat? I certainly wish you smooth sailing, my friend. If it were up to me, you would always have powder white sands and turquoise waters in your marriage. But when the skies turn gray and the seas are in conflict, remember this: 

As horrible as storms are, they have an incredible way of kicking up gemstones too. They have the power to change the blurry haze of happiness into crisp 20/20 vision, where suddenly everything that is important comes into crystal clear focus. 

God is holding you both together. You're wearing the same team jersey. That's all you need to know. And when your Love Boat is tossed, you can find solace that you are both safe in the eye of every storm- your Father's love.