Learning to Love Discipline

I grew up in a small church in a little resort town in Minnesota.  I suppose our style of worship would have been called liturgical and somewhat formal.  The pastor wore vestments and the choir wore robes while processing down the aisle to their place on the platform during the first hymn. Before that happened though, the acolytes would light the candles on the altar before the service began and then at the end of the service they would come up the aisle and “take the light out”.  The acolytes were usually middle school-aged children and everyone, including myself, loved it when it was our turn to serve because this meant we could sit away from our families in the foyer and not have our parents nudging us every time we whispered or giggled at something.

I will never forget one particular Sunday morning.  My friend and I were the acolytes for the service and we were so excited! No parental control!  As soon as we did our “job” at the beginning of the service we started whispering and talking to one another.  Every once in a while, a giggle would escape our lips and we would look up anxiously seeing if anyone heard us.  When no one paid us any attention we got a bit reckless and forgot where we were because when my friend said something particularly funny, I laughed out loud.  Not a giggle or little hiccup of a laugh, it was an all-out, open mouthed, belly laugh.  Realizing where I was and what I just did, I frantically looked up to see if anyone heard me.  Yep, I saw some people turn around, but what was worse, my dad heard me.  Now my dad is a very fun-loving, kind, patient man, but we were taught that God’s house was a place of reverence and awe and my raucous hilarity was not part of that description. He stood up at his place in the front of the church, climbed over the tenor section, and marched down the aisle with his choir robe billowing all around him.  He looked like an avenging angel and I knew I was toast; crispy on all sides, hold the butter, toast.  I wondered what punishment awaited me.  I remembered the devastating cookie ban of ’74 when I got into the cookie jar and lied about it.  Oh, this was not going to be good.

My dad took me by the arm, led me to a room, sat me down and explained to me why we were having this conversation.  He explained what I did wrong and how my behavior did not show respect to God or others. Though he was disappointed in my behavior he made sure to let me know that he wasn’t disappointed in me and loved me very much.  I’m sure I was not allowed to be the acolyte for several months and had to apologize to our pastor.  I am happy to report that my dad never had to come flying down the platform in his billowing robe ever again.  I had learned my lesson about respecting others, God’s house, and what my heart attitude should be when serving Him.

Hebrews 12:10-11 says, “He (God) disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.”

Some define holiness for Christians as conforming to the will of God.  Becoming more like Him. And the fruit of those “teachable moments” is the fruit of righteousness. Just like my dad had to discipline me so I could learn a valuable lesson, my heavenly Father does the same, wanting me to have the peace that comes from a life that is free from guilt or the fear of a life separated from Him.  A peace knowing that my soul is secure and my relationship with Him strong.  Do I love to be disciplined?  No!  But I love my Father and trust Him to mold me in whatever way, shape, or form that is needed to make me more like Him.

That particular Sunday a long time ago, was just one of many “teachable” moments from my earthly father and heavenly Father.  And as discipline goes, probably the easiest to bear.  Though that cookie ban was pretty rough.

Sometimes learning the lesson the hard way with you,

Lisa

Be Still, Wonder Woman

Do you remember your first black eye?  Wait!  What?!  You have never had one? I remember mine.  6^th grade.  On the bus.  A fellow student called me a name.  Then they called a little boy with Down Syndrome a name.  That was it.  I opened my mouth and called that person a clever, (if I do say so myself) degrading twist of their name.  And while I was basking in my creative glory, I failed to see the fist coming to my face.  Yep.  True story.  Though I am normally shy and quiet, I can’t abide bullies.  I’m afraid if I had been in the garden with Jesus when he got arrested I would have been right alongside Peter slicing off body parts.  I am not proud of this, just being honest.

Exodus 14:14 says, “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”  I eventually learned to take that verse to heart.  I stopped trying to be “Wonder Woman” (who happens to be the coolest super hero, just sayin’) on the playground and let Father do the fighting for me.  He showed me a different way to fight. While the bullies tried to tear down with words or fists, I would try to encourage and build up with words of encouragement and support.  Where I used to use a physical response or hurtful words, I would “kill them with kindness”.  Eventually, they just didn’t know what to do with me.  They got bored and left me and those they liked to pick on alone.

There are still days when I have to fight my “Wonder Woman fighter” tendencies.  It’s hard for me to let God do the work and just be still.  As I wait for Him to make His move, I sit there and try to come up with ways to get Him to move faster or insert myself into a plan that wasn’t meant for me.  And then when I’ve exhausted all of my own resources and am not good for anything, the first part of Psalm 96:10 comes to mind. “Be still, and know that I am God.”  Instead of spending my waiting time scheming how to get my way or get there sooner, I can spend that precious “still” time learning and remembering that God keeps His promises, is a Teacher, He disciplines us in love, He is good, He allows suffering for our good, and His instructions are priceless. (Psalm 119:65-72) Being still and working on my relationship with God is a much better use of my time when I am told to wait on Him.  Also, I am then much better prepared when God says, “Now Lisa!  It is time!” and I run with gleeful abandon with Father’s full approval. (after He reminds me to leave my Wonder Woman lasso behind.  Sigh. Old habits die hard)

Is God asking you to be still and wait on Him?  Put your weapons down.  Stop scheming.  Sit at His feet and bask in His Word.  There is no better preparation for when the time comes for you to be called into action. 

Being still with you,

Lisa

Cardboard Boxes and Flying Monkeys

I love how God can use anything, yes, anything, to bring His Word to mind and remind me of who He is. This time it was a simple box. 

I was sitting at my desk.  I saw a box.  The box reminded me of a memory which in turn brought these two passages to mind:

“For who is God except the Lord?  Who but our God is a solid rock?” for “In the multitude of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul”. (2 Samuel 22:32 NLT) (Psalm 94:19 NKLV)

I remember as a child watching the Wizard of Oz while sitting in a box.  Yep.  A box.  Didn’t every child under the age of 6 when faced with watching this movie alone? But this was not just any box.  This box was my secure fortress in the midst of pure terror.  You see, the wicked witch and her flying monkeys scared the be-jabers out of me and whenever the witch came on the scene, I would jump in my box, hunker down as far as I could, and peek over the side. I was scared, but I had to see what was happening. For some reason, I felt safe and secure surrounded by walls made up of thin card board and tape that only held up for a few hours because of my constant scrambling in and out.  The next time I watched it, I required a new box.  I can’t remember how many boxes I went through that year.  I loved that movie!

Thank heavens, I don’t have to rely on a simple, weak box for my sense of security anymore!  I am so thankful my God has made my soul secure so that no matter what happens or what fears try to take over, I can run to Him who is my Redeemer, Solid Rock, and Protector.  There is truly no one like Father and I am so thankful to be His child.

To whom do you run to or what do you crawl in to when you are afraid?  Run to Father.  Confront your fears peeking through His arms that are holding you close. People and card board will fail you at times, but our God never will. 

Enjoying security without boxes with you,

Lisa

Identity Crisis

My heart hurt a bit last week.  I sent my youngest son off early in the morning for his first full-time grown-up job half-way across the world.  Actually, it’s only a few states away, but to this momma’s heart it may as well be Siberia. I know that has been the plan from the beginning, but it doesn’t make it any easier.  I still picture him as this little boy playing with “swords” in the backyard. 

You would think it would get easier.  This isn’t my first go around.  My oldest son is married, working, and ministering in another state.  My oldest daughter has moved out and heading toward the future God has planned for her.  I feel for the last daughter yet to move on.  I may put up a fight.

Why is this so hard?  It’s not like I expected everyone to stay forever.  I knew what was coming.  I knew from the time I found out I was going to be a mom.  But still…

For those of you who have walked this path and made it past the next bend, please share with those of us who may be struggling to find the path.  For those of you who are in the midst of the chaos of kids still at home and long for quiet, less crazy times, don’t rush things.  Embrace them.  Time truly does fly and blinking will cause those precious kiddos to grow up before you are ready.

The definition of identity is the fact of being who or what a person or thing is.  It’s a fact.  I’m a mom. And maybe after 24 years of being a full-time mom the “mom” identity starts to become the strongest identity.  It takes over all others and I have lost sight of what else there is for me to do; for me to be.  Because there is a big part of me that wonders as the last child walks out that door, “What now?”  “Who am I?”  “What am I supposed to do?”

What about you?  Maybe for you it’s a change in your career, ministry, going from student to employee, or job to retirement. Whatever identity you have embraced at the moment and now it’s changing can be exciting and good but can also feel uncertain and scary. It’s O.K.  God has reminded me that, yes, I am a mom and will forever be a mom.  My role may change, but the fact still remains. But, He reminds me that I also have an identity in Him.  I am His child (John 1:12); I am a “praise-maker” for Him (Romans 15:7); I am chosen for a purpose (1 Peter 2:9); I am an heir (Romans 8:15); and so much more. 

When your identity is in crisis remember you are more than that one thing. God’s plans for you encompass so much more.  His purpose for you lasts.  And as you tear your gaze away from the back of an identity that is changing, you will see glorious opportunities the Lord has waiting for you if you just look.

Embracing my identity in Christ with you,

Lisa

^“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light;” (1 Peter 2:9)