Wednesday, January 18, 2017

To Serve or Not to Serve

I've been pondering servant-hood a lot recently.

We all know, I suppose, what the term means. We've heard it, we've said it, we've promoted it, we've done it, and we have decided not to do it.

Depending on where you find yourself in your life, it's either a term that evokes excitement, dread, ambivalence, or something in between.

I'll be honest, serving isn't one of my love languages. I have friends who find great fulfillment in serving others. I'm not one of them. It generally just makes me feel tired.

But, recently, the Lord and I have been revisiting the word, and the subject it refers to, and I will tell you that my heart is undergoing a revolution.

Let me back up a tiny bit, and explain what has sparked all that is going on inside me.

My family is full of missionaries. As far back as Hudson Taylor, who makes an appearance in our ancestral tree, members of my clan have gone across oceans and continents and countries and cities to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with people who might never hear otherwise.

My husband and I met on a mission trip to China 19 years ago.
My 14-year-old daughter has the missionary heart beating inside her.
My sister, Joy, is my favorite missionary of all time.
Even as I type this, my parents and my sister, Sarah, are serving in Bangladesh as short term missionaries to the Muslim people there.

I wanted to go with them on that trip. I wanted it badly. is full of things we want but don't receive. So I remained behind, to pray for them, and to fill in the gaps for them while they are away as much as I can.

And it feels like the "serving" that the Lord is asking of me right now is more exhausting than I can handle. Because I'm sad, and when I'm sad and hurting, everything becomes too much.

Do you know what I mean?
Of course you do.

We've all said it, or at the very least felt it.

"I have way too much going on in my life right now. I can't add one more thing."

We can't take that meal, or watch those kids on Sunday morning, or clean up that house for someone, or sit and listen to a person share their pain, or stop and pray for the person that's been on our minds.

And, at the risk of stepping on my own toes, I will say that I'm much more likely to listen to some one's pain, or pray for the person on my heart, than I am to do the PHYSICAL things serving sometimes requires.

It's impossible to feel like volunteering in the kids ministry at church when you are overwhelmed by your week, month, year, LIFE, and all you want to do is hear worship music and a sermon, and then go home.

It's ridiculous to add making a meal for a sick or hurting family to your schedule when you can't afford it, or when it means you'll end up feeding your own family drive-through.

Cleaning a house that isn't your own when you can't remember the last time a toilet brush graced your bathroom...that is simply out of the question.

I totally get it. I resonate. We all do. Serving is hard. For some more than others, but it's HARD for all of us.

This tangent I've been on in my spirit started when I hugged my family goodbye last week, sending them off to do missions work that I really wanted to be a part of with them.

My parents go on lots of trips. I always miss them, and I always cry when I hug them, but I've gotten used to sending them. THIS time, though, I was sending my sister, Sarah, too.

And I was not prepared for the feelings that would dredge up inside me.

The last time I sent a sister on a missions trip, I hugged her, and I told her I loved her, and to be safe, and to call and write and come back soon...and she died.

And so as I hugged my sister and told her all the same things, terror rose up inside me.

And after they drove away, I climbed into my car and proceeded to have a full-blown panic attack, witnessed by members of my church who were there for the send off as well. (Not my finest moment. Even sharing it is a lesson in humility for me.)

The whole way home, I kept saying to the Lord, "It's enough, Lord. I've sent enough of my family to do Your work. Stop asking this of me. It's enough. My heart can't take anymore."

Wow. If that isn't a peek into how selfish a heart can be, I don't know what is.

And the Lord was kind to me. His presence enveloped me, and my heart calmed, and the panic subsided a bit, to be a bearable, swallow-able feeling.

And days passed. And even though I wasn't voicing my specific dissatisfaction with His ways, I was still feeling it.

My family and friends across the globe posted pictures one day, of the work they had been doing...and my heart couldn't hold the ugly in anymore.

"It's enough, Lord. I can't give anymore of my people to you. I won't survive it."

And He responded to me. "Haven't I given everything for you? So that you could come into my presence? So that you have access to my throne? My Spirit is with you now, in your sadness, because I gave My life for your redemption. Is anything I ask of you more than that?"

And I wept.

Because doesn't our pain often, always, feel like its more unbearable than ANY pain that has ever been? Don't we feel overwhelmed to the point of breaking down by all the weight on our shoulders?

Didn't the God of all creation feel that same weight? Didn't His Son sweat drops of blood because of the agony He knew was upon Him?

When Jesus knew He was walking to His death, preceded by scourging and nails, and followed by a trip into HELL, He still stopped to heal the ear of one of His adversaries.

When God watched His own Son breathe His last breath, His heart was so broken that the sky went dark. But He didn't stop serving us. His pain, His burden, was great, and yet, He reached down and RIPPED THE TEMPLE VEIL in half, for me, for you, for us all. He served, even in His agony.

So that we could bring our gripes and complaints and hurts and fears and all the rest to Him.

And does He tell us not to come to Him with our burdens and needs and requests because He has more on His plate than He can possibly handle?

Of. Course. Not.

He pulls us onto His lap, and He soothes our hearts.

And (here's the toe stepping about to happen again) often times, we stay there, and we rest in His peace, and we drink in His presence...and that's it.

But, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, that is NOT what He is asking of us. That's NOT why Jesus sent the Holy Spirit.

YES, He is the Comforter. But He's also love and joy and peace and patience and kindness and all the rest. And we aren't supposed to horde that. We are supposed to share it.

We should be FUNNELS for His presence.

Even, maybe especially, when we are hurting ourselves.

Could it be that nothing will soothe our burdens as much as helping to soothe the burdens of others?

Could the scandal of grace be that it isn't meant for you to only receive, it's meant for you to spread?

Why would we ever assume that the Lord Jesus, who said "If any of you want to be my disciple, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow Me" (Matthew 16:24) would find it acceptable to merely be a recipient of His servant-hood, rather than a giver of it?

I know, this isn't popular, or compassionate, or particularly gentle. But I'm talking to myself too. The Lord has been saying it to me. Am I willing to give Him everything? Am I willing to serve Him, and His hurting ones, even when I am in pain myself?

Truth? If serving Him means giving up another person I love...I don't know if I can do it or not. I don't know. I can't think about that without panic and pain.

But I do know a woman who serves out of her own pain, and I have seen the beauty of it. 

This is my mom. She's in Bangladesh right now. My sister, Joy, served there when she was alive. She was on her way back there when she died.

That's one of Joy's scarves that my mom is wearing.

And she's planting flowers in the "Joyful Garden" outside the school, for the children there to tend to.

I can see her sadness, because she's my mom. I know it's hard for her to be there. It causes her pain to serve.

But. She's still doing it.

Are we?

Are we turning from our selfishness, and following after the example of the Son of God?

If not...shame on us.

Our serving here is much less grandiose. It's toilets and meals and kids ministry. But it's serving.

We have been COMMANDED to serve each other.

Not when it feels good. Not out of our surplus.

We are to serve, even in our pain, even when we're burdened, even when its uncomfortable and inconvenient and much more than we can possibly handle.

Because Jesus did. And because our all-knowing Father KNOWS that being His servant is better for US than simply receiving from Him.

Are you tired? Burdened? Hurting? Overwhelmed? Paralyzed with fear? Complacent? Angry? Comfortable? Guilty? Ashamed?

The throne room of God is available to you. And me. And everyone.

But don't just go in and get what you need from Him, and then walk out again.

Let's be His disciples. Let's serve each other, even when we don't want to.

"Father, if it is possible, let this cup of suffering pass from me. Yet I want Your will to be done, not mine." Matthew 26:39

Friday, January 6, 2017

Motherhood Musings

Motherhood is exhausting.

I know I'm not the only mom who feels this way. It doesn't make us incompetent or ungrateful or lazy or anemic or sleep deprived or overworked or any of the other things to admit it.

Periodically, my husband and I will have an evening conversation (while snuggled in bed or on the couch) that goes like this:

Hubby: "How was your day?"
Me: (slurring from dozing off against his shoulder) "Fine."
Hubby: "What did you do?"
Me: "I can't remember. I'm too tired."
Hubby: "You say that every day."
Me: (long pause to contemplate) "Yeah, that sounds about right."

It's just a LOT, isn't it? And at least once every single day, I wonder how much longer I will be required to address a certain area of a certain child's life.

Examples? (As if you don't have twenty of your own rolling around in your head right now)

My 4 children are all potty trained. (Thank you, GOD, for the retirement of diapering) My youngest, who will be seven in 2 months, still has to be reminded to wash his hands, flush the toilet, put the seat down...nearly every time he uses the bathroom. He's been hearing that list from me for YEARS now. And if you add in all the years his three siblings had to be reminded of the same things (minus the toilet seat lowering for my daughter, obviously) I've recited that list about a million times. I'm tired of saying it, people...TIRED.

Last week I was having a conversation with my almost-10-year-old son, and I noticed his hair was looking particularly wilted and greasy.

"Nate," I asked, "when was the last time you took a shower?"
"I took one last night, like you told me to," he responded.
"Really? Because your hair looks like it needs to be washed again," I mused.
His reply? "I didn't wash my hair. We are out of shampoo."

How long had we been out of shampoo? Over a week, according to him. He had been cleansing  himself with WATER ONLY for at least 5 showers, without ever bothering to inform me that the kids bathroom needed shampoo.

I remind my children to put on deodorant, brush their teeth, load their dishes in the dishwasher, put their dirty clothes in the hamper, wear clothes when they go outside, wipe their hands on napkins instead of their clothes, wipe their NOSES on tissues instead of their clothes, put their shoes where they belong so they can find them again later, cover their mouths when they sneeze, don't eat food off the floor, chew with their mouths closed, don't slurp their drinks, don't talk to me disrespectfully, don't talk to each other unkindly...and all the rest...ALL DANG DAY LONG, EVERY DANG DAY.

Plus, we have all the other pressures on us.



Laundry. (yes, I consider it a separate item from cleaning)

Bible study.

Working out. (which then adds a shower requirement to the day, and muscles that are screaming obscenities for the next three days, because, lets be honest, we don't ever have enough time to work out as much as we need to in order to avoid the day-after soreness)

Hobbies. (Not because we have time or energy for them, but because if we don't have them, we then hear the social lectures about the need for balance in our lives.)

Friend time.

Family time.

Intimate alone time with hubby. (which requires legs to be shaved and teeth to be brushed, which means something else in the day must be put off into tomorrow.)

And when kids are little its a different list, like whether to let them sleep on their stomach or not, and reminding them to not putting their fingers in outlets, and remembering to measure and weigh them for their baby book...

And as mine get older, the list continues to change to include things like how to drive, and reminders to tithe, and why it's not appropriate to wear certain lengths of clothing items, despite the cuteness of legs and booty, and also, apparently, that it is important to use shampoo on hair when showering.

My gosh, I'm exhausted just typing things, and I'm not even scratching the surface of all the things.

And it only adds insult to injury when you spend all day juggling all of it, and your kids seem to not recall that you told them ONLY YESTERDAY to put on deodorant every. single. day.

It makes us want to sit on the couch and watch HGTV and drink coffee and eat sour cream and onion potato chips as a meal. (not that I ever do that...I'm saying it about another mom I know...)

During my bi-weekly church Bible study meeting this week (which I prepared for by doing the ENTIRE previous week's lesson all at once that same morning because I had neglected it until that point)(and during which I received no less than 5 texts from my daughter (who was babysitting her brothers at home) telling me of the bad behavior the boys were displaying that would require my attention upon my return to the house) the teacher made a statement that SHOUTED into my heart with a megaphone, and continues to ping around inside me days later.

"You are not responsible for HOW your life turns out. You are responsible to be obedient to WHAT God has called you, and given you, to do. He is responsible for HOW those things play out in your life, for His glory."


All I have to do is WHAT I'm called to. Obedience.

HOW it works is up to the only One who is an eternally patient Parent to the most forgetful children.

Now THAT is some food for relieved thought.

Motherhood remains exhausting today. (Seriously, yesterday I arrived at the checkout line of a store, only to realize I didn't have my wallet because a child had been looking for change in it and forgotten to return it to my purse)( and this morning I asked a child to get started on their school work (at 9 am) and he replied "But I haven't even had coffee yet!" and I couldn't reprimand him because I say that EXACT sentence to them when they ask me to assist them with anything before I've finished my coffee)

But the voice of my Father whispers in my ear, patiently, reminding me to take a deep breath, and keep being obedient to the task He has given me, and He will continue to faithfully work it out for His glory.

And really, in the grand scheme of motherhood, that's WHAT we want. For our lives, and our children, to be used for the furthering of the Kingdom of Heaven, in eternity and here on earth.

HOW my stinky, dirty haired kids, and my potato-chip-eating, coffee-addicted self arrive at up to Someone besides me.


Happy exhausted mothering today. I pray that you can find a moment of rest in the Presence and Promise of the One who is Patience.

And that your kids remember their deodorant without a reminder.