Five-Minute-Friday: Mess

I'm joining Lisa-Jo Baker  for Five-Minute-Friday with the writing prompt: 

Mess...

Legos and Playmobil are splattered across the downstairs floor, sound effects bouncing off of the walls. Another sits calmly, reading in the midst of the action. Math links and Base Ten blocks are scattered over the school room floor, a village is going up. And yet another sits quietly solving two-digit addition problems with Chopin playing in the background.

There are remnants of our day throughout this house and as much as I'd like to keep up on the mess, I'm finding there is a difference between staging and living. Because staging is how we want our life to appear, whereas living is jumping in and creating it. Another day, another hour might look a little different, but active none-the-less–active bodies, active minds, active emotions and I couldn't live this way before.

But this is different. Because I'm right here in the mess with these four children and when you're in it rather than observing it, the mess becomes art–beautiful, creative and peaceful.

We are creating art together in this home, splattering colors and textures of our unique blends.

And as an artist is not put off by messy remnants of his work while splattering paint on a canvas–I cannot be put off by the messy remnants of our ultimate vision.

When we walk into a room noticing only the mess, we miss the masterpiece.

According to Their Bent: 5 Training Points For Boys and Battle Play

Are you a parent who avoids having toy weapons in your home or forbids boys from pointing weapons, shooting at or stabbing one another with swords?

I tried to be that mom with my first son. I did not buy or promote toy weapons. And at about the age of  three, he found a stick that worked well enough as a gun. So I told him to "shoot the lizards" on the ground and not point it at people. And then he was around other little boys, who battle played, and I found myself fighting an uphill battle–myself against the innate behavior of boys.

We have two now. Two boys out of four children and our second boy is just as, if not more, animated than the first with light-sabers, swords, legos, star war figures and playmobil.

He lives and breathes battle play. Our two boys battle each other, cousins, and friends willing to join in battle.

And this kind of play, I've concluded, is healthy.

Because we can't change the make-up of our boys, but we can train them according to their make-up.

There is no doubt that boys were built to be warriors–when they can create their own weapon out of sticks without ever being exposed to one. Therefore, eliminating toy weapons is not the answer. But rather how we train them is key.

Here are five points we use for training our boys in the way of battle play:

1) We teach them what it means to be a hero. 

Heroes fight for something greater than themselves and are willing to give up their own life for the greater good. On a smaller scale, we train our children to put others first and to give up their own comforts for the sake of another.

2) We teach them what it takes to be courageous.

Courage is not simply doing right when it is easy, but rather doing right when it is the most difficult to do. My children are realizing that this is near to impossible without the help of the Holy Spirit. Yes, they must pray for courage.

3) We teach them that they were created to be warriors in a real life spiritual battle.

Ephesians 6:12 tells us that our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 

The Spirit cannot reside where sin does and so our children, our boys, are faced with this battle every single day. They must choose to gain their strength for this battle from Christ and the Word they have hidden in their hearts. (For more on children fighting a spiritual battle, check out this post: How a Child Crushes a Lie)

4) We read like crazy great books that display courage, heroism, defending the weak, and fighting for good. 

In the face of real life difficulty, our boys have the opportunity to identify with a character in a great story who felt lonely in choosing right, who felt scared in pressing forward and who found courage to act in the face of that fear. 

Why is story so important? Because our children can see the lasting affects of those choices, within the characters they identify with, in which good prevails in the end. (If you're not reading aloud already, check out this post: 8 Reasons to Read Aloud to Your Children)

5) We use our home as training ground. 

The little brothers and younger sisters are examples for looking after and protecting the weak. With my younger boy being only eighteen months older than his younger sister, there are a multitude of opportunities to train his little heart to look after her, to bear with her, and to do what it is right in the face of frustration and difficulty. And I teach this to my daughters, too. 

And they fail time and time again. But that is how they are learning, too. These are the teachable moments. It's up to us to give them that vision of what they're fighting for. (For further reading about giving boys a vision for their future, check out this post: How to Train Our Boys to Be Men At Four)

I see it in differing contexts just how these children do look after one another, in spite of their collision of difficulties at home. Our training is not futile even when it feels like it is. Hearts and minds are being molded for greatness, in the image of God, as we persevere.

When we use battle and warrior-talk in the training of our boys, we're speaking their language. We're penetrating their hearts.

And no doubt, what happens within the hearts of these boys in this home will manifest itself within their world.

So no, we don't take away weapons nor do we train boys against their natural grain. Our boys were created to be warriors! Rather, we train them for the battle so that they have no doubt who they are fighting, why they are fighting and what their battle is worth.

Because some things in life are worth fighting for.

***

Some suggested read aloud books on courage and heroism–just to name a few:

Saint George and the Dragon
Tales of King Arthur and the Round Table
The Children's Book of Heroes
The Wind and the Willows
The Tale of Despereaux
Chronicles of Narnia
Lord of the Rings Series
The Hobbit
Swiss Family Robinson
The Red Wall Series (just embarking on these)
Missionary Stories with the Millers

Also, don't dismiss biographies, life of saints and bible stories of heroes.

What great books can you add to this list? I'd love to know!

Sharing with Imperfect Prose, Coffee for Your Heart, Tell His Story, and Soli Deo Gloria

Five Minute Friday: Friend

I'm joining Lisa-Jo Baker once again, for Five-Minute-Friday with the writing prompt: 

Friend...

Good friends are hard to come by. And to be honest, I haven't learned the art well myself of being a good friend.

I remember a time in early adulthood when I didn't have really any trusted friends; lots of acquaintances, people I hung out with, and those I trusted before I really knew. Yet not one that I could spill my heart out to, cry with or come away from feeling built up and renewed.

My friendships, throughout my young adult years had been highly one-sided or very superficial.

And then about the time I started trusting God with different aspects of my life, was the time that I prayed for friends. Specific friends. A friend I could belly laugh with. A friend I could talk with about life and faith. A friend I could pray with.

True, authentic friends.

And God heard those prayers, because isn't that what he wants for us? Relationships that build us up, that encourage us to be who we were intended to be, that draw us closer to him?

I am blessed now with friends that I can share my weaknesses with, cry with, pray with, laugh with, read scripture with, analyze with, serve with.

Each individual friend I see as a gift.

Friendship is not about being apart of clique or a club. It's not even about how alike two people or ten people are. It is about sharing in our differences, loving through our trials, carrying each others burdens and building one another up. always.

It's forgiving when one does not invest well, overlooking offenses, and releasing expectations.

True friendships are simply a gift. They are not to be hoarded, manipulated or trampled on.

 And if you're not sure you've got that kind of friend in your life. Pray for that friendship. specifically.

I'm still learning how to invest well in my friendships. Life with family is busy. Yet the beauty of those friends God has put in my life, over the last ten years, is that they do forgive, they do understand, they don't hoard nor do they expect.

A good friend–a true friend, is a gift.

The One Thing We Need in the Face of Defeat

We’re reading around the breakfast table when defeat shows its face, before we even start our day. The youngest two can’t sit still, so I let them run off and play. They run circles, screaming past us and I can’t hear my own voice. I ask them to keep the volume down or play downstairs, as I finish our short devotion with the older two.

I ask a follow-up question to our reading and I hear grunts and whines and the older two are just as uninterested, so I just shut the book and send them downstairs to get dressed.

And I feel defeat wash over me at the start of our day of the new week.

I look around me and notice that we didn’t even clear our dishes or clean the kitchen before dispersing. We need to pull the house together before we start school–after a fun, long Easter weekend and house guests. And it’s always then–when there is just one more thing on our plate–that I'm faced with defeat that feels like despair, like we’re getting nowhere and like we’ll never get it right.

But that’s a lie. Because more good has come from redemptive moments than I can count. Even when all I can see is momentary defeat. And since giving up is not an option, I offer it back to the One who promises success when I commit these plans to Him.

Each moment is opportunity for a fresh start when we'll accept our own limitations and submit control to Christ.

So I breathe deep and head downstairs to see how they’re doing with getting dressed and ready for the day.

I have a talk with individual children and direct each one, keeping us on track. There’s more grumbling and whining over a certain morning chore and I want to throw a fit myself.

I feel how exhausting and unglamorous parenting really is.

Yet I choose not to take back the control I just offered up, nor grow weary in doing good.

“I always have to fold laundry. I’m not folding laundry!” the oldest one demands.

I feel more defeat over his reluctance, but he has a choice and so I ask him to start with the chore he is willing to do.

He’s folding blankets and throwing them over the couch and chair and I’m pitching in, picking up random toys off the floor.

“I’d mop the floor, mom,” the reluctant one says. "I just really don't want to fold laundry."

“Okay, you can mop instead of folding clothes and it needs to be swept first. The stairs could be vacuumed, too.” I concede.

“Okay,” he says. There is willingness now in his tone.

Soon the children are all working like a well-oiled machine. The house is coming together and I’m realizing, once again, that hope is not lost.

The day plays out peacefully, as the children play together, building a house, a trench and a dam on the dirt hill behind our house, after cleaning. They then come in for lunch, imaginations still active. One writes out the menu, takes orders, and delivers the food that I prepare. School work is accomplished in the afternoon this day and I can’t think of a better day we've had, even with our rough start.

And I realize that more rewarding than children cooperating all of the time, as I expect; more beautiful than first-time obedience and perfectection, is redemption in the lives of my children.

To watch reluctant hearts change. To watch them internally choose to do right. To witness what only Jesus can do in them that I cannot.

It’s the realization of who we are without Christ and who we become with him.

And when I see this happen in each of my children, as I have more over this past year, I recognize the blessing in the difficult moments.

I realize that the difficult moments help us to see our limitations and that we really do need Jesus to succeed and live joyfully. They see it, too.

And what I need more than anything in the face of defeat is the faith to simply trust God with this exhausting and unglamorous work.

Because, although the work of parenting is less than glamorous, the redemptive work is stunningly beautiful.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9

Sharing with Imperfect Prose, Coffee for Your Heart and Tell His Story

In Which Believing is Seeing

I wonder sometimes how much that statement, "Seeing is believing," really hinders our sight.

And how that concept keeps us crippled in our disbelief.

There are times I find myself praying things like, "Oh, Lord, help me to get this house in order," or "Give me wisdom in my parenting!" Lately it’s been, “Help me to get motivated to exercise!” I pray these almost in my disbelief of achieving what I pray for. And quite honestly, my disbelief is rooted in simply not wanting to do what I don't feel like doing to get there. Yet, even as I pray, things don't just begin to happen in my favor. No matter how I look at it, I actually have to take action.

Sometimes I think we expect God to do the work for us or at least send down a lightening bolt to get us moving in the right direction when we pray for help, but He never seems to do that. We still have to discern, make the sacrifices, begin the process, and go through the pain of the work.

Oh, I can just hear us stubbornly crying out like the Israelite's, "Look at my life (or this house or my body)! It's a mess! You should have left me where I was. Where are you, God? Don't my prayers mean anything? Are you even there?"

Yet God didn’t take the cup from Jesus either.

One of the most difficult times of my life was a time in which I cried out to God everyday to rescue me and yet I walked that difficult path for seven years of my life. Believing is difficult when all you're willing to see is your lack.

But like the Israelites, we have to go through the uncomfortable process of the journey because it’s on this journey where faith is tested, lessons are learned, restoration takes place, and hope is found.

And it’s the pain Jesus endured and his ultimate death that has brought us life-everlasting.

The process of that seven years for me now is irreplaceable. The depth of who I am today came from that valley and still I see that I never walked it alone even when I felt the loneliest.

In time, God completely delivered me from that difficult season–delivered me in much the same way he delivered the Israelite's, after 40 years in the wilderness, to the Promised Land. And I never went back. When you arrive at your promised land, you don't turn back to slavery.

God never said He'd do the work for us. He said He'd walk through our mess with us. He's waiting for us to put our faith into action, by putting one foot in front of the other, so he can begin revealing for us miracle after miracle along the way.

Maybe we're waiting for the guarantee, the proof that running this race will be worth the effort and, until we have that, we'll remain in our disbelief and go no where.

But, do we see to believe or must we believe to see?

To arrive at a promised land–the place full of His promises for us–we absolutely have to believe God is capable of taking us there. Belief requires faith, because faith is assurance of what we cannot see. And faith requires action or it is dead.

When we step out in faith, that is when we begin to see all of the possibilities open up, the impossibles becoming possible, and we realize the blessings were never meant solely for the outcome in the first place. They were meant for the process all along.

We simply can't wait for the guarantee. We must believe before we will ever see the blessings, the rewards, and the miracles along this process of pressing on toward the goal in life.

Whatever you are going through, He wants to take you to your promised land. But it's going to take a little faith, a little action, and possibly a lot of pain. But oh, the rewards will be heavenly!

"...blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." John 20:29

In Which We Nurture Them Into Bloom

Although my days with MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) are passed, I am honored to contribute in a small way to this vital ministry. Therefore, I'm sharing thoughts on Thursdays with our local chapter, on the Sheridan Morning MOPS blog:

Why is it difficult for children to clean their own room or put away the legos they spewed all over the floor? They will pull out every toy on the shelf, but when it’s time to pick up they sit in the middle of the mess paralyzed. I know I, as a new mom, expected my first born to learn responsibility and clean his messes on his own by age five. I don’t know about you, but I needed a reality check!

It is true that our children are capable of small amounts of responsibility at early ages, yet even a seven-year-old can feel defeated in the middle of a mess by herself. So how do we help them succeed? When we lovingly plant a seed in good soil, we give it plenty of sunlight. We water it and even fertilize it. We protect it from the storms. We nurture it. Why? Because we believe that seed will grow into a beautiful blossom.

"Mom, I've got my room clean!" Robby races upstairs to announce before I even have the dishes done from our Saturday morning breakfast.

"Robby, you are on top of it. I’m impressed!" I respond.

He has done this three weeks in a row now and I think I'm beginning to see a little blossom.

He comes toward me with open arms, "Ya." he chuckles, "Remember when I would have so much to clean up that I would just sit in the middle of it and do nothing?"

Yup. Pretty much just a few weeks ago.

"Do you think we expected a little too much of you when we required you to clean your whole room by yourself when you were just four and five years old (my cheek to his)?"

"Yah," he chuckles again.

He's eight and I'm beginning to think around age eight is that season where our children blossom into more independent individuals because, developmentally, they can reason through things much more maturely.  

"Well, we have the pleasure of learning through you, our first born. Otherwise we just don't know sometimes."

It's like God built him specifically for that.

We head downstairs to inspect his work. I enter the spacious room with tracked taupe carpet. "Your room looks great, Robby! Now it just needs to be vacuumed."

"I don't want to vacuum it," his sinful nature chimes in, "I don't like to. You do it."

"Well, you know, I don't really like to vacuum either," I gently retaliate.

"You're right. You have to vacuum the whole house. I'll do it."

I’m proud of his mature and capable response.

The truth is, in the past, we have helped him through cleaning his room on a number of occasions. We've seen that, otherwise, it would not get done in spite of our expectation and strategic tactics for compliance–yet, not without frustration along the way. But we've learned that at four and five, even six and seven, they are not quite capable of all that we may expect them to do on their own–like we’re rushing the seasons.

And if we’re really honest, we expect this because we get overwhelmed and we have our own tasks that take priority and we’re impatient. We've planted the seed and now we want results. Yet, the seed still needs tending to.

Over time, we’ve come to see that emotionally and even socially, the confidence and ability to succeed is built on loving, on-going, side-by-side nurturing and training throughout these formative years.

We do things a little differently with the younger three. We don't just show them how to take on a responsibility and expect them to have it mastered by the second or third try. In the same way, we can't plant a seed, water it a few random times and expect it to thrive. We walk with them through their tasks, their struggles, and their triumphs and give them more and more responsibility and independence as they succeed–naturally, pushing past resistance along the way. We understand they are not perfect and are in continual training while under our roof.

They don't have to have it all mastered by five. really.

So, how do we help them succeed? We walk alongside and nurture them through the formative years.

Like a bud, which opens in time with good soil, the right amount of sunlight, and plenty of moisture, we nurture our children continually into each season of bloom.

You can’t just throw a handful of seeds over the deck and expect a beautiful garden to grow. –Sally Clarkson (paraphrased)

Edited from the Archives 

The Most Important Way to Train Our Children to Serve

Although my days with MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) are passed, I am honored to contribute in any small way I can to this vital ministry. Therefore, I'm sharing thoughts on Thursdays with our local chapter, on the Sheridan Morning MOPS blog, and sharing it here with you:

When our children already have everything; at a time when our children are growing up in a me-­culture; when it is more natural for our children to think of themselves rather than somebody else: we must be intentional about teaching our children to think of others before themselves, to grasp a bigger picture of their world and to serve for the greater good of the world, in which God created them for. 

But where do we start? Although we may love for our children to experience how people live in a third­world country, that is not piratical for the majority of us. 

However, active service is within our reach. Here are three ways to train our children to serve right where they are: 

1. Serve Along Side Community 

At least once or twice a year, we try to organize or participate in a service project with friends or church members. 

We have served at a soup kitchen, myself and all four children with me. The youngest, at two, three or four, were able to put salt and pepper shakers on the tables, set cups out and other small tasks. The older, at five, six or seven, were able to help with the small tasks and serve food. At one point, I had a baby in her infant seat, one on my back and two helping me serve the dessert! 

We have joined a couple of families in putting on a pancake breakfast to raise money to buy a pig for a family in Guatemala. 

We have invited friends to make bracelets for orphans in Russia, through Craft Hope.

We have invited friends to paint sun catchers with us and then took the sun catchers to a local nursing home, to brighten an elderly person's window and day.

2. Serve Your Community

As a family, throughout the summer, we have picked Thursdays to be our "Thoughtful" day or service day. 

We have gone to a nearby park to enjoy a picnic and then pick up trash. 

We've brought a plate of cookies to each of your surrounding neighbors. It can be as simple as writing a letter to a child we sponsor. 

These small deeds make a big impact, not just on the receiving end, but on the heart of our own children! 

However, serving others does not have to be an organized event or happen on a specific day. 

3. Start with Family 

I believe this is the most important way to train our children to serve.

Serving starts with family, right in our home, and practiced everyday. 

We see it when a child holds the door for those of us behind him. We see it when the youngest needs her blankie and one of her siblings jumps up to get it for her. We see it when one chooses to use some birthday money to surprise his siblings with ice cream at the park. We see it in thoughtful words. 

These are the kinds of thoughtful or "service" acts our children may already be doing! And these are the things we can encourage and tangibly train, if our children are not already doing them. 

So if you find yourself dumb­founded over ways to involve your children in serving others, look closer rather than so far out of reach. 

Because we miss the point when we serve others outside the home, but remain self­serving within the home. It starts right here. 

The service our children practice within their homes will manifest itself within our world. 

A child who holds the door for his siblings will hold the door for a stranger. A child who stops what he is doing to help his sister, will stop what he is doing to help someone in need. A child who spends birthday money to surprise his family with ice cream cones learns how it feels to be generous with his money. A child who puts thoughtful words to paper will bless many. 

So, take heart sweet mamas. Training our children to serve is within our reach. We can seek a couple of larger service projects to involve our children in each year, but let's not overlook all the ways we can train our children to serve everyday. You're probably already doing them! 

Edited from the Archives

How To Train Our Boys To Be Men at Four

Although my days with MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) are passed, I am honored to contribute in any small way I can to this vital ministry. Therefore, I'm sharing thoughts on Thursdays with our local chapter, on the Sheridan Morning MOPS blog, and sharing it here with you:

***

"Don't follow me!" is the phrase my four­year­old boy is uttering toward his nearly three­year­old sister, over the past few days and I want him to see differently. 

We don't always know why our children determine to be unkind or even cruel to one another. Who knows where they pick up such thoughts and actions and then mimic them. Or more essential the question, what is at the heart of the behavior? 

As parents, what we know is that we are all selfish by nature and the training of a child is constant in re­framing that mindset and molding their heart toward kindness, consideration and compassion. 

Out of mere helplessness or frustration, we might send our child to a "time­out" for speaking unkind. And although it might stop the behavior, it doesn't get to the heart of our goal for our child to display kindness, consideration and compassion for others. These traits come from the overflow of the heart.

And so it takes thought, prayer, investment and plain ole' creativity
to get to the heart of a child. 

This morning, I give my boy a little pep­talk on being kind to his sister and he seems to understand. However, as the morning settles into routine, he starts in on telling his sister not to follow him or play with him again. 

So I walk over to him and remind him, "Remember our talk this morning?" 

A little grimace and a humph. I continue. 

"I need you to treat your sister like she is a gift from God to our family because, do you know what? When you let her follow you, sit with you and play with you, you practice what it takes to be a good man, a good husband and a good daddy when you grow up."

His little head makes the slightest tilt, like his inner­ear instantly perks up. 

And then they play.

And they play all day without any further correction. 

I can't tell you exactly why, but I have a hunch that in spite of our selfishness, there is this innate longing to be all that we were created to be. This is the heart of the child that we have the great responsibility and privilege to invest in, till and water, as parents. 

It's a lot of these little moments that show our boys what we expect of them and what we believe for them. It may not be the same words or circumstances for every child. There is no formula. 

It's just finding ways to give them a vision for their future. 

Edited  from the Archives

On the Gift of Belonging

She sits tall at the table for Saturday morning breakfast – the morning feast we have once a week in the dining room. She watches her five-year-old brother make silly gestures, as he finds his place across from her. She smirks at him and says, "You're so silly, Drew," then looks over at me with that approving smile in her eye. Her sister walks into the room and she offers her the chair her sister sits in every week, next to her. She looks my way through the corner of her eye and tilt of her head, with that approving smile, once again.

This is a girl who had a good night sleep, but also a girl who has a strong sense of belonging.

This is a girl who knows her name – who reprimanded anyone who called her "honey" or "sweetie" or said she was beautiful at the age of two. "I not honey. I MADELINE."

This is a girl who confided in me the night before that she was going to grow up to be a great leader, like Moses.

She's three – one of the most impressionable, at times difficult, yet beautiful stages.

Isn't this what family was designed for? To be that warm place of belonging, where love is constant and unconditional. A place of security that allows them to know who they are – to dream, spread their wings, fail and try again.

Family is where it starts. 

And for every year that our children grow, they need that strong sense of belonging. They need that sense of, this is who we are: the Millers (insert your last name). Everyone else may approach life that way, but we approach it this way. The next family may not have the Saturday morning breakfast feast as their tradition, but we do.

The traditions we create and the love we generate infuse belonging into each of our children's lives. 

Yet that is not where it ends.

Everything we offer this life is only a means to the end. Family provides that sense of belonging that gives our children the desire and confidence to impact the world; the belonging that perpetuates a sense of their own identity. If we miss family as our priority, we've missed the mark completely.

Because their sense of belonging in this temporary home is only a shadow of their belonging to a heavenly home – to their Heavenly Father, who knows them by name.

This child, who is three, is far from perfect. She climbs over tables and counters, she throws books and toys when she get mad, she tests me.

Yet, she doesn't need to be perfect to belong. I know who she is. Her temper and defiance do not define her. She is a child of God and that is how I treat her – through discipline, by grace.

This is how we step in as Jesus to our children. We stand between their sin and who God created them to be – by grace. We step in so they can discover the miracle of Jesus for themselves through our example.

And it is when they can say, I am a child of God. This is who I am. I know where I belong – it is then they will understand the true means to the end for which they were purposed.

Sharing with Finding Heaven and Imperfect Prose

On Finding Joy in the Mess

Although my days with MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) are passed, I am honored to contribute in any small way I can to this vital ministry. Therefore, I'm sharing thoughts on Thursdays with our local chapter, on the Sheridan Morning MOPS blog, and sharing it here with you:

We strolled through the scent of fresh fallen rain at the pace of my first born, whose Dennis the Menace cowlick came just to my waist. My second born was tucked in the backpack weighing on my back.

As we meandered around some side streets, we found ourselves strolling down a dirt road covered in little potholes along the side, brimmed with fresh rain. Our slow walk turned into a stop-and-go as my toddler discovered the first puddle, stomped and splashed a while, then found the second puddle, and the third.

Enveloped in patience, I delighted in his playfulness a while, as I admired my own easiness before gently coaxing him along.

By that third puddle, that ease was challenged when my adventurer exclaimed, "Mommy! Do you want to splash with me?!"

"N...," was headed for my tongue and out of my mouth as I heard a gentle voice within say, "Why not?"

Scrambling for reasons, I looked down at my feet and, like a lens zooming in on the obvious, I saw bare feet in summer flip flops.

"Why not!" I exclaimed. And we splashed together in messy joy, puddle to puddle, all the way home.

Isn't that how the Holy Spirit works? Whether we are fully enveloped by the fruits of the Spirit or we barely hear that whisper of direction and counsell, when our natural inclination may be the very opposite; how ever the Spirit pours into our lives, our response to Him can take us to a whole new level of living – more patience, deeper joy, love with abandon, etc. – and we have the ability to pour directly into another person's life because of it. This is profound!

This is a Gift…

Because sometimes we don't want to jump in the puddles. We want to stay neat and clean and not be bothered. We'll walk along side someone as long as it doesn't get too messy. And we'll even pat ourselves on the back in our limited generosity because we, too often, allow our human nature to be our guide.

But love, which God is, through the power of the Holy Spirit, leads us a different way, a selfless way. And when we accept whatever that may look like, at whatever the cost, we find deeper meaning and purpose in these moments that add up to our life…

Because through the gift of the Spirit, we can always find joy in the mess.

So let us not forget “the gift “ as we walk this broken road full of potholes and muddy puddles.

And let us not just play it safe and dodge the obstacles of life.

But may we jump in where the Spirit leads! May we allow him to guide and counsel us into the messes we were purposed to bring love, deliverance and joy through.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Galatians 5:22-23 (NIV)

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Edited from the Archives