Thinking of you…

I wanted to write a blog post to tell you about some dear friends of ours who are in our thoughts and prayers these days.  Roger and Rose are one of the most delightful and beautiful couples you’ll ever meet and who we had the joy and privilege of connecting with when we lived in Calgary.  When Joe and I were leading the young adult prayer ministry back then, they were kindred spirits who, for a time, joined their hearts and intercession with ours for this generation and were such an encouraging support to us.  Over the years, we got to witness their incredible hearts of generosity and love as they repeatedly took people into their home, even as newly weds and new parents, sharing what they had without restraint. 

When they took in Rose’s younger brother Timothy, he was in a rough stage in his life and in desperate need of some guidance and a touch from the Lord.  Because of their willingness to open up their lives to him, we got to see the mighty workings of the Lord in Timothy’s life as he was delivered and set free from the addictions of his past and also healed miraculously of dyslexia – finding that he could read for the first time as he opened up his Bible as a new believer!  Again, we were blessed to observe Timothy growing in maturity and passion for Jesus and his testimony was an encouragement to us all.  We were also often blessed by Roger’s worship leading as the anointing and intimacy in his songs brought us into God’s presence numerous times. 

Around the same time that we moved from Calgary, Roger and Rose and their two girls had the opportunity to live abroad, due to Roger’s work.  I have been following Rose’s account of their travels as they first lived in Kaula Lampur, Malaysia, and now in Lagos, Nigeria, Africa.  I have thoroughly enjoyed Rose’s poetic story-telling of their many adventures and have been touched by her depictions of the poverty she witnessed and the orphans she would minister to.

But just a couple days ago, Rose shared on her blog the difficult news that her brother Timothy (now 24 years old) has been diagnosed with brain cancer.  So, if you read this, I am inviting you to join with us in prayer to contend for his healing!  We know from before, that the Lord has his hand on Timothy’s life and that He loves to deliver and heal his kids, so we are anticipating that He will do it again and reveal His glory and might in new ways, that we may again be in awe of His goodness!  If you would like to follow Timothy’s progress as he fights this disease or if you simply want to be blessed by reading the blog of a beautiful woman of God, then please visit her site at http://rogerandrosaleen.blogspot.com.

Roger, Rose, Timothy and your family – we are thinking of you and praying for you…

Gratitude

Today was a day of mixed emotions, ups and downs, yet in the midst of the ordinary, it felt like a day to remember and treasure.  It felt like a day that should be recorded, with all the mundane details, that when joined together, form something that is, to me, uniquely beautiful.

It is 4:54 am and once again my bladder has rudely awoken me from my slumber, demanding to be relieved.  As I awkwardly roll out of bed to go to the bathroom, I hear my son whimper from his nursery and I pray that he will fall back asleep.   When I crawl back into bed, my husband turns on his side with his back to me so that I can curl my body up against his – though this is harder these days with my mounding belly creating a gap between us.  He has to get up in just a few minutes to get ready for work, since he’s putting in overtime this week.  I soak in the few moments I get to cuddle with him and hope it won’t be too hard to fall back asleep once he gets up. 

At 5:11 am my son begins to cry again.  I struggle with indecision on how to respond, remembering a couple days ago when I went to him around this time in the morning and how, even in my arms, he would not go back to sleep for an hour and half.  As I again pray that he will go back to sleep on his own, I hear my husband slip into the nursery to give our son a soother and thankfully get him to go back to sleep.  I fall into a light sleep, rolling around as I try to find a comfortable position and maneuver the pillow that I keep folded between my knees.  At 5:51 am my son cries again and this time I get up, throw on my bath robe and go to his room.  I pick him up from his crib and we settle into the recliner in his room where I try to get him to sleep a little longer so that I can get a few more winks myself.  His eyes are closed, but he is restless, moving around and kicking often.  Neither of us get much sleep, but it still seems better than having to start the day just yet.

Around 7:00 am we finally get up and I prepare my son’s usual porridge mixed with mashed banana.  He smiles and opens his mouth eagerly for each bite, complaining when it’s all gone.  I quickly get him a handful of Cheerios to snack on so that I can have my own breakfast.  I make my usual two pieces of toast with peanut butter and jam and a glass of milk and make sure to take my prenatal vitamin.  As Justice finishes up his Cheerios, he reaches longingly towards my toast, begging for a bite, but this morning I’m selfish and don’t share.    Then it’s time to get dressed and go to my computer to start my work day.

The next four and half hours go by as they often do.  Justice plays happily by himself.  Justice comes and throws a toy on my desk.  Justice buries his face in my leg.  I pick him up and let him sit on my lap for a bit.  He tries to play with my mouse and bang on the keyboard of my laptop.  I put him down and he cries.  He finds a toy and starts to hit me with it.  I take the toy from him, scold him and ask him if he wants a time out, to which he promptly replies “No!”  He goes back to playing.  I try to get some work done.  He comes back and starts reaching for my laptop, trying to press the keys.  I try to block my keyboard with my hand, so he starts to play with my fingers.  He stands next to me and for a long time, massages my hand, poking and prodding with his little fingers, digging in his little nails, probing between my knuckles, and feeling for bones and tendons.  Not much work is getting done with only one hand to type with.  I finally withdraw my hand and he cries mournfully.  Knowing that he is teething and there is only one thing I can do that will help distract him from needing to be near me at all times, I go to fetch his soother.  He runs off to play, but I catch a whiff of something nasty and check his diaper – yes, it’s definitely time for a change!  At first he lays down without a struggle, but as soon as he is clean, he rolls over and tries to make his escape.  When I catch him to lay him back down, he screams as though mortally wounded and flails in resistance to my efforts until I find something to distract him with so I can finish the job.  Then he is off running again!  I decide now is a good time for his morning sippy cup of milk.  As I warm it up quickly in the microwave, he reaches up and whimpers with impatience, burying his face between my legs as I get it ready.  When I give it to him, he immediately heads for his favorite spot on the loveseat in the office where he crawls up and then lies down to drink his milk.  I get a few moments of peace to work again, except that my stupid mouse keeps double-clicking on it’s own accord, repeatedly performing numerous undesirable actions, inciting curses within my mind and some growls out loud.  It’s not long before more toys are being thrown onto my desk and Justice decides to give me a few more hand massages.  There’s another poopy diaper to change and multiple more times where I pick him up to sit on my lap until he drives me too crazy and I set him back down.  As lunch time approaches, he becomes more and more antsy and buries his face into my lap, practically begging me to stop working and feed his hungry belly.  Finally I comply with his wishes and log off for the day, thankful that I managed to get in my required time.

Today he gets a PBJ sandwich, which he eats three quarters of it really well, but then just wants to play with and mash and tear up the last quarter.  After a few pieces of cheese and some fruit sauce, I let him out of his booster seat and I manage to finish my warmed up leftovers in between feeding him.  He is not a happy camper, however, and it soon becomes apparent that it’s time for his nap.  Today he goes down without a fight and I curl up on the loveseat in the office to finish a sort of sappy Christian novel that I started yesterday.  I skim over several parts because I’m impatient and then end up a bit disappointed to discover that this book is part of a series and I’ll have to borrow the other books from the library if I want to find out how it all ends.  I’m not too convinced I care enough to make the effort.  My husband calls to let me know he’s going to work another hour extra after work.  Before long, I fall asleep myself for a little nap until I’m awakened by my son’s cries.  Technically, he has napped really well today and I could probably get him up, but I’m still tired, so I go into his room, scoop him up and take him to the recliner again, hoping to get a little longer nap for both of us.

He immediately falls back asleep in my arms, so I feel justified that he needed more rest as well.  Yet, as much as I long to go back to sleep too, I find myself staring at his beautiful, sweet face.  I drink in his peaceful countenance and savor the feel of his little hand resting on my chest.  His breathing is deep and I treasure this time to hold and cuddle him, feeling the bittersweet realization that these moments will be coming to an end soon when baby #2 arrives.  I wish for the moment to be frozen in time and sealed forever in my memory, feeling like time is going by far too quickly.  My baby boy is growing up so fast and the opportunities to rock him in my arms will continually become fewer and farther between.  Even as I feel such love and joy swelling in my heart, there is a part of me that mourns the loss of this.  While I will have another precious infant to hold in only a few weeks, I realize that no child can replace another – that each one will have their own unique and special place in my heart that is theirs alone.  I smile as he shifts in his sleep and his little hand sways and gropes, searching for me.  Just touching my garments is never sufficient and even as he slumbers, his fingers don’t rest until flesh touches flesh.  To keep him from squeezing my neck or exploring the interior of my mouth, I offer my hand to him and he settles down again, happy to massage my fingers.  Finally, I close my eyes and enjoy some rest until he wakes up.

Once we’re up and about, I decide we need to get outside.  The clouds in the sky look ominous, but we go out anyway.  Justice relishes the chance to run around the yard and as I follow him, I notice the growing number of rocks that Justice has thrown into the fire-pit, regardless of our countless admonishments not to.  I decide to start to try and fish as many as I can out and simultaneously keep him from throwing them back in.  It isn’t long before I start to notice the rain drops falling on us and our time outdoors is cut short. 

Though my husband, Joe, will be home later than usual today, I decide to start getting supper ready.  While Justice tears apart the kitchen, I look at the month’s menu which is printed off and displayed on my fridge door.  My plan is to make a new recipe I got from my mom, but when I look at the ingredients and directions, I discover that it’s exactly the same as another recipe given to me by my sister, just with a different name!  I’m not in the mood for that recipe, so I start searching the Internet and my recipes software program for something simple I can make with chicken.  I’d love to barbecue something, but the rain is not allowing for it.  Finally I find one that looks easy and quick and which I happen to have most of the ingredients for – yay!  I get to work on supper, while also making trips to and from the basement to do a few loads of laundry.  Justice happily follows and enjoys playing with the dryer door, which buzzes whenever he opens it.  Once I have our supper in the oven, Joe calls to remind me that he has to pick up diapers from Wal-Mart, so to go ahead and eat without him.  So, I feed Justice his supper and partake of my own, which has turned out incredibly fabulously!  I love it when a new recipe turns out great! 

Just as I’m about to start on the dreaded task of cleaning my microwave, I hear a knock on the living room window.  I figure it’s Joe wanting to pop up and say ‘hi’ to Justice, but instead, as I go to investigate, I see a pot of beautiful deep burnt red garden mums slowing rising up from the ground where Joe is crouching.  I can’t help but to allow a huge smile to grow on my face and I feel my love tank getting filled up on the inside from his thoughtful gift!  I love it when he surprises me with flowers and when he brings them inside, I bury my nose in them and savor the sweet fragrance.  Joe jokes with me about not killing them, but inevitably, this is probably exactly what I’ll do, so I’d better enjoy them while they last! 

I pull Joe’s supper out of the oven, which I was keeping warm for him, and I sit down at the table with him while he eats.  Justice runs around laughing and talking and we smile at each other, enjoying this moment of joy and peace.  Joe agrees that the supper is amazing and praises me for being the most diverse cook he has ever known (I’ve been on a bit of a binge lately with trying new recipes).  Again, my love tank gauge rises with his words of affirmation.  As he finishes his supper, he begins to attack Justice with tickles, sending him into fits of giggles and squeals.  There is seriously nothing quite like our son’s laughter – it’s truly the best sound ever!  I join in on the fun and give Justice belly farts, since Joe’s unshaven face prevents him from getting a good seal.    We then move to the living room to relax and let Justice run around and burn off some more energy for awhile.  When I smell another whiff of nasty, I’m amazed that Justice has had his third poopy diaper for the day, and we decide that now is as a good a time as ever for a bath.

Justice joins Joe in the tub while he showers and then they have a bath together.  While they get nice and squeaky clean, I go around the house gathering all the toys and putting them away and tidying up the kitchen.  I go downstairs to get some laundry and begin folding it until they’re done, at which point I go to help dry Justice off and get him ready for bed.  When Joe is done getting dressed, he gathers Justice’s books and lays them out to let Justice pick three that he wants to read – I smile to myself as Justice picks out the three books we both knew were his favorites.  I’m grateful as well when Joe takes the initiative to put Justice down for bed and I go to the office where I pull out the journal I started keeping before Justice was even conceived and in which I write him letters and prayers.  Today seems like the perfect day to tell him how I’m feeling and how much I love him and that, though things are going to change when his baby sister arrives, that my love for him is constant. 

As I’m writing, I hear Joe go to the kitchen and start cleaning up the dishes and then I hear him taking over my abandoned task of cleaning the microwave.  The love tank gauge rises once more as he demonstrates his love with a simple act of service.  I peak my head out of the office and ask him if he’ll boil some water for me so I can have a hot drink, but I don’t mention the microwave – I’ll maybe wait for later, since I know he doesn’t always want to be recognized when he does something for me.  When he comes to join me in the office, he comes bearing a mug, with my Chai tea fully prepared – what a sweetheart!  He turns on the webstream to the prayer room at the International House of Prayer and settles on the loveseat to read his Bible.  Intermittently, we’ll both interrupt each other to comment on something, and then return to our individual tasks, simply enjoying being in the same room together.  At one point, I glance behind me to see that his mouth is hanging open and he is fast asleep.  By this time, I’ve started writing this blog entry, so I just smile and continue typing.  Again, a surge of gratitude wells up in me for all the Lord has blessed me with.  Our lives are not perfect, but today I feel the kiss of God on us and the sweetness of His goodness towards us.  I adore my son, I love our unborn baby girl who is constantly making her presence known by her movements within me, and I am in love with my husband who also adores us all.

It’s time for bed now.  My husband has already gone to warm up the sheets and I need to get in a few more cuddles to get my love tank topped up.   

Fear of Disappointing God

I recently received the opportunity to read and review Max Lucado’s upcoming book “Fearless”, which is scheduled to be released on September 8th and on which date you will get to read my thoughts on it. Until then, I have to keep it “hush-hush”, but I am already being touched by it and God is putting His finger on some things in my heart.

I’ve known for a while that I struggle with fear. I fear losing those I love. I fear for my loved ones should I die unexpectedly. I fear failure. I fear pain. I fear disappointing people. But perhaps most of all, I fear disappointing God. This exact fear is the topic of Chapter 4 of Max Lucado’s book and not only do I fear disappointing God, but I assume that I already have and am constantly doing so. I’m one big disappointment. My sins, my compromises, and my failures seem so frequent that the only logical conclusion my mind can arrive at is that He must be extremely tempted to just give up on me, if He hasn’t already!

This fear of disappointing God seems to be closely linked to another issue that He is putting His finger on, which is self-hatred. “Hello – my name is Jacquie and I despise myself.” There – I said it! So, apparently this is a big problem, because when I hate myself, I expect that others also hate me and that God hates me. Even in my own marriage, though my husband consistently showers me with words of love and shows me by his actions that he adores me, I can be incredibly fearful and insecure about revealing my weaknesses to him. I decide beforehand, that since I am disgusted and repulsed by my own darkness, that surely my husband will feel the same way and will promptly reject me if he finds out about the real me. This makes me fearful and I try to hide my flaws from him, not trusting in his unconditional love for me.

The same goes for my relationship with God, only the terrible thing is that He sees everything about me and nothing is hidden from His sight!! If He can see what I see (and more!), then He most definitely must be disappointed in me! I then reason that if I can’t hide my sin from Him, perhaps I can just avoid contact and hide from His gaze so that I won’t see the look of disappointment in His eyes. Like Adam and Eve, I run from Him in shame and the enemy showers me with words of condemnation, which I willingly listen to, instead of looking to the Lord to see what’s really there. Even when He tries to affirm His love for me, I reject His words and cannot accept His love or forgiveness. A scripture which I have clung to over the last couple years and which I seem to need to go back to countless times is Psalm 34:4-5…

⁴ I sought the LORD, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.

⁵ Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame.

Even as I was writing, He lovingly reminded me of a dream that He gave me over a decade ago, but which impacted me so deeply that it still brings tears to my eyes to this day. In this dream, I was an unfaithful wife who had left my husband to pursue other lovers and I was about to marry another man, only to recall that I was still married and would need to first find my husband and divorce him. This led to a journey of searching for him, which gave me a lot of time to remember how much he had loved me and realize what a fool I had been to leave him. As you can probably guess, my husband in this dream represented Jesus, and when I did finally find him, the memory that always strikes me is the look in his eyes. That look of disappointment I talked about? Nope – it wasn’t there. Disgust? Nope. Rejection? Nope. His look was one of the purest love and most sincere kindness and acceptance I have ever seen. His look invited me to come close and experience intimacy with him once again. There was no shame, no condemnation, no guilt-trip, no holding me at arms length. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes – perhaps some sorrow over the time lost – but I knew that he understood the pain in my own heart, the regret and sincere repentance for how I had wounded him. Now what if I had been so full of shame that I had kept my eyes downward, groveling at his feet? What if I had never looked up into his eyes to see what was truly there? And yet, I do this constantly!

Somewhere in my heart, I still believe that God is mostly disappointed in me and my self-hatred and fear keep me from looking to Him. Because I do not love myself, I keep a very good record of all the wrongs I have committed, so that each time I mess up, I remember my many previous grievances and I forget that His perfect love has wiped that record out! His mercy and forgiveness and the blood of Jesus have completely cleansed me from each and every one of those sins! I assume that He is recalling my muddy history and I don’t even want to come ask for forgiveness because I think He must be so weary of granting me mercy. Surely His patience has been worn paper-thin? Surely I’ve crossed the line this time? Surely this time He will say, “I’ve had enough!” But if I could just recall His love for me…His love that covers over a multitude of sins…His love that casts out all fear…His love that never fails.

Sigh…I feel like I am just barely scratching the surface of this and that there is still so much more in my heart that needs to be exposed, dealt with, healed, renewed. Yet, it’s a start. Perhaps it is time to start believing what He says about me and how He feels about me. I’ve heard it a thousand times, yet it needs to get past my mind and into my heart.

“Hello – my name is Jacquie and I am not a failure or a disappointment.”

“Hello – my name is Jacquie and God really likes me.”

“Hello – my name is Jacquie and God thinks I’m pretty great.”

“Hello – my name is Jacquie and I am loved and accepted by God – even as I am today.”

“Hello – my name is Jacquie and I am radiant. Beautiful. Flawless. Captivating. I have captured the heart of God.”

Book Review: God's Little Princess Devotional Bible by Sheila Walsh

When I saw the opportunity at www.BookSneeze.com to review the children’s book, ”God’s Little Princess Devotional Bible” by Sheila Walsh, I just couldn’t help but jump at it, knowing that I have a little princess on the way!  Even though she will not be able to read this Bible with me for several years, I’m glad I got it, because there are some great ideas in this book!  Written for girls ages 4 to 7, this book takes short Bible passages in an easy-to-understand translation, accompanied by fun and cute illustrations, and then uses multiple methods to help your little princess to understand the lessons found in them and how she can apply them to her own life and walk with God. I personally loved the “Beauty Secrets” which helped associate the way we beautify our outward appearance with the ways we beautify our inner hearts – like using lipstick as a reminder to watch the words we speak.  I also thought the “Take a Bow” sections were great, as they give you ideas for dress-up and role-playing that gets your daughter involved with the story and also has questions to ask her to help her learn from the story.  The activity pages also have some fun ideas for applying the message of the scripture through a game or craft.  I really look forward to using this Bible with my daughter!  After having read through it though, I realized that it’s not something you’d want to use as a devotional before bed, but more likely as a Bible-focused activity during the day, since many of the plays and activities would require more time, effort and planning on the front end.  Overall, I was impressed with the positive, Biblical messages and think it does a great job at teaching our princesses about how God wants to instruct them and form them into beautiful women, both inside and outside – not the spoiled, selfish princesses who demand their own way, but the ones who are gracious, kind, giving, caring, serving, and meek.  I would definitely recommend it!