Last week, I came across a link to an article entitled “How to Miss a Childhood“. The writer, very persuasively painted a picture of the dangers of being too plugged in to our devices, namely the phone, at the expense of relating to people who are most precious to us, namely our children. I think her points can relate to any device and any relationship. For me, the article provoked more thought on a topic I’ve been thinking about a lot about lately. I’ve noticed my tendency to always want to have something to look at, to read, to listen to, to be entertained by. In any moment of calm, whether I’m riding an escalator, paused at a stoplight (yes, I know it is not legal to be on your phone while driving and this is not something I’m proud of!), or just sitting with family members at the dinner table, I will pull out my phone and look at something. Anything. Twitter, Facebook, quick email check, a perusal of a few sites I regularly read, and then whatever I can find to pass a few moments. Why do I do this? I don’t know. I am still not entirely clear as to what I think I’ll find when I tune out of what’s going on around me. Whatever it is, it has often left me feeling that I am wasting precious moments. The idea that we are bored and therefore need to find amusement at any moment of the day when there’s a lull or break from some activity, is a misleading thought. Rather than use phones, computers, the internet, or TV as momentary and controlled activities that have minimal impact on our time, I find that if I’m honest with myself, they often consume my time!

This thought about how much we’re all tuned in has been hitting me much more over the past few weeks. I’ve noticed how bad I am at conversation. I find that rather than being truly interested in what people are doing and saying, I’m easily distracted. I think I can attribute that to the training I’ve been giving myself in finding quick, easy-to-access information and distractions. What will happen to us if we continue to let ourselves become consumed with our technology? Will we loose out on building important relationships in exchange for meaningless time consumers? Will we forfeit time that we could be using to do things that are more helpful, and more productive? Will we be setting an example to our children and to those around us that what is most important is not people but stuff?

These are just some questions I’ve thought about and want to address, not avoid. We can each assess our own habits and practices and ask the Lord to help us see if there are any ways that we’ve neglected those around us. And we can make choices to not allow our phones, TVs, and internet to consume our time. Just a challenge- would you consider along with me going on a fast from some sort of media? Maybe it’ll just be a day without Twitter, or a week without Facebook, or mealtime without the cell phone, but whatever it is, we can pray that instead of letting the things in our life rule our time, we can resolve to withdraw from them and tune in to what’s going on with the PEOPLE we care about. I know that for jobs and family communication, it’s impossible to completely let go of all our connections, but this is just a suggestion to get you thinking about ways that you use your time. I’m looking forward to getting away from some things and being free from that overwhelming pull to always be in touch with what’s happening outside the home. Instead, it’s time to start making sure I’m tuned in to what’s happening here. Do you agree that we’re all too “plugged in”? I’d love to hear some thoughts, maybe personal experiences of ways that you’ve lost out on opportunities because of things like cell phones or TV, and even stories of successes in drawing away. Feel free to share in the comments below!

Some women really love being pregnant. I wasn’t one of those women.

I remember one of my coworkers telling me how she never felt better than during the months leading up to her delivery. She wasn’t sick even one day. She had a certain glow. People told her how beautiful she looked. She even suggested that she missed the feeling of being pregnant.

I definitely couldn’t relate.

I was a gigantic pregnant. I really mean it. In fact every month that I visited my doctor, she lectured me on the weight that I was gaining. Every month! At the end of my first trimester I read that the average weight gain should be around 3-5 pounds. I had gained ten. At six months she told me I had gained enough weight for the entire pregnancy. I was convinced she was wrong. I also read you were supposed to gain a pound a week. A week? Are you sure they didn’t mean a day? They must have meant a day.

One particular day at work I barged into friend’s  office and complained that I couldn’t stay at work anymore. I had to go home.  No, I wasn’t sick. No, nothing was wrong with the baby. I had to confess the truth:  “I…I think it’s my pants. They’re just too tight. I can’t breath!!” After laughing at me, lecturing me for thinking I could get away with wearing my normal clothes, and assuring me that no, nothing was wrong with the baby, she insisted that she cover my appointments for an hour so that I could go to the maternity store to buy pants that actually fit.  I still can’t fit into those jeans.

I was also incredibly sick. I don’t mean a little sick…I mean “pull over on the side of the highway” sick. People tried giving me all sorts of helpful suggestions to avoid the morning sickness (a painfully misleading term…who said anything about it being restricted to the morning?) Some told me to try crackers. Cereal. Icecream cones. Make sure you don’t eat too much at once. Make sure you never let yourself feel hungry. Nothing worked. Then my friend suggested that I tried sucking on sour candies. She said that it would make me feel better. So one day as we were driving I asked Shady to stop at a gas station, and we bought every bag of sour candy we could find. It made me feel soooo much better. The next day, I declared that I wanted NOTHING to do with sour candy. I closed my eyes as I passed them to him. “Don’t let me look at them. Don’t let me think of them. I never want to see those again.”

I guess I was slightly dramatic.

Besides being huge and incredibly sick, I was constantly hot. I would look around at people wearing long sleeves and wonder if they were okay. Surely there was something wrong with their body temperature.  And besides being hot, I was uncomfortable. Hot and uncomfortable are too really bad companions. One Sunday I announced to Shady that I just couldn’t go to church that day. Why you ask? I just couldn’t face the chairs. They were so uncomfortable. How could anyone concentrate on anything important when sitting in one of those chairs?  I really couldn’t do it. So Shady did what any loving husband would do….week after week he would haul our dining room chair to church. It didn’t help that since he was responsible for running the sound system that  we had to sit right at the very front where everyone could see my clear display of being high maintenance. I’m sure they wondered who the guest of honour was who got to sit on the big comfy chair.

On the day that I finally thought I was going into labour, I called the hospital in the middle of the night to see if they thought I should come in. The nurse informed me that what I was experiencing sounded like false labour, and that I should take a Tylenol and try to get some rest. False labour? A Tylenol? I didn’t like her answer, so I decided I was calling another hospital. Sure enough they refused to help me; they said they only dealt with patients assigned to their hospital. That was just as useful as being told to take a Tylenol, so that’s when I called Tele-health. I was ready to call everyone on my street until someone told me that yes, this was the moment, come on into the hospital and we’ll take this precious baby out of you, NOW.

Unfortunately that didn’t happen for four additional days. FOUR days of contractions! I’ve heard of one day, two days, maybe even three, but FOUR.  Surely there are medals out there for women who’ve gone through that. And if there isn’t I should inaugurate one. I’ll call it the “Contraction Extraordinaire” award…and I’ll engrave my name on it, and award it to myself.

And by the way, people say you forget the pain of your delivery. People are wrong.

I’m pretty sure I remember thinking that once I delivered,  the difficult part would be in the past. My mother had offered to come over around dinner time for the first few weeks so that she could prepare meals for us. I remember agreeing, but I’m not sure I was convinced that it was really necessary. I mean really, couldn’t I just do it while Amanda was napping? It wasn’t long before we discovered that having our mothers over at dinner time wasn’t nearly enough…I think that realization came after one short night. It was our first night at home. We went to “sleep” at 10:00. We “woke up” at 7:00. In reality Amanda had cried the entire time and I slept for one tiny little hour. I begged Shady to call our mothers. “Shady, wake up! Call your mother. Call my mother. Tell them we don’t know what we’re doing. We need them to come over right now!”

Half an hour later they arrived with bags full of supplies and insisted that we go to sleep and let them take care of things. We woke up a few hours later. The kitchen was fully stocked. Amanda was fast asleep. They sat drinking tea. They had it all under control, and it was obvious that I had a lot to learn from these godly women of experience.

As I write this, eight month old Amanda lies beside me fast asleep. All warm and cozy in her cute little sleeper, tucked under her furry blanket. Her fingers playing in the air while she lay sleeping. Her soft breath gently moving the blanket up and down. I can’t wait for her to wake up so I can receive the smile she gives me when she sees my face.

I think I can honestly say that Shady and I didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into. But what a privilege, what a blessing, what a source of joy!  Every pound gained, every side of the road experience, every sour candy that made me nauseous, every Sunday morning hauling our dining room chair to church, and every last contraction is worth the gift that comes from motherhood.

It is oh so worth it!

Happy Mother’s Day!

This week, I thought I’d share one of the many valuable lessons I learned from my mom over the years. My mother is one of the weakest, strongest people I know. It makes no sense right? Allow me to explain. I have seen my mother go through many trials and she always seems to face them with such strength and wisdom. I know my mother is not some kind of super hero, and one of the greatest things she did for us was that she allowed us to see her weaknesses so that we may see God’s strength reflected in her life.

A few years back my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I remember being there with her when she found out and her eyes glazed over with what appeared to be fear, confusion, and uncertainty. She was never afraid to speak her mind and say how she was feeling, and in that, I saw God transform my mother’s life through this very difficult experience. People often question why, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” “If God exists, then why would he allow good people to get sick with cancer?” What we know about God, through his Word, is that he uses trials to test, strengthen, and shape the lives of His children.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4

I can look back and easily remember opportunities I threw away because of the way I viewed certain trials I experienced. My mother on the other hand, allowed herself to be moulded, strengthened, and renewed through what the world would call “an unfair experience”. Despite struggling through the effects of a difficult surgery, weekly chemo sessions, and radiation, she still managed to count it all joy, even when the surrounding circumstances were the exact opposite of joyful. I remember our weekly wig dance sessions, where we would put all her wigs on and dance around the house. Sometimes she wouldn’t have the energy to dance but she always had the energy to laugh. When we were kids, my mother was always teaching us God’s Word, but more than just teach us, she lives it and we see that through every trial and celebration she goes through. So as I reflect on my mom, and what she has been to our family, I’m thankful to God for his grace in her life and for blessing me with a mother who loves His Word and walks in it daily, no matter what the circumstance may be.  Happy Mother’s Day!

I opened a Google document shortly after the birth of my first daughter.  My husband gave me the idea to start recording some of the cute things that Susannah did and any milestones that she reached. Good idea, honey.

I have some friends who opened up an e-mail account for their first son when he was born, so they could write e-mails to him as he grows up. So sweet.

I know some people who do yearly scrapbooks of their kids, or have kept perfect baby books, documenting anything and everything about their children. Awesome.

I have heard of those crafty folk, who make lovely quilts for each of the children, something they can keep forever that will hold meaning and memories.

I’ve read about people that write letters to each of their children on their birthdays, recording their love for the child and their prayers for them. What an encouraging, beautiful treasure to have.

Facebook shows me all the fancy new maternity pics that people are having done, and then these nifty month-by-month photos of the new babies.

Pinterest bombards me with so many amazing ideas of things I can do with my children, for my children, or about my children.

And the list goes on.

All of these things are so neat and so great, but you know what, I’m basically having an anxiety attack over here thinking about all the things that I did not do for my children.  The maternity photos? Umm…no, didn’t really want to have pictures reminding me of what I looked like 50 pounds heavier. But maybe I should have? For the children! To preserve the memories! What have I done?!

The month-by-month photos? Missed that boat with Susannah. It wasn’t even invented then. Forgot about it with Caitlyn, and then I attempted it with Madalyn, but I just couldn’t seem to make it work. Now I don’t know what they looked like at each stage! And I can’t even present them with a cute little book so they can compare themselves to their children. Cue the hyperventilation.

The Google documents that I started for my girls….well let’s just say that Madalyn’s is a little sparse by comparison. She apparently doesn’t do anything cute, or reach milestones.  I went to write it in tonight, out of guilt, and then I started panicking over all of the things I’ve neglected to record.

Now what’s the point of this post? Truth be told, I actually had no idea as I started writing, I just knew I was feeling tons of guilt and failure when I thought about writing anything to do with motherhood. I could only think of all the things I’ve wanted to do, attempted to do, and have failed to do adequately. I could think only of all the things these other children will have growing up, that my girls might have liked but won’t have.

But as I wrote, by the Lord’s grace, and by my husband’s loving instruction, I was humbly reminded, that these so called “failures” are not failures at all. Not even close. Oh, I definitely fail as a mom, so often, but these things that I am stressing about, they are not failures and I have no reason to feel any guilt over them.

In fact, the only guilt I should feel is over the fact that I am more concerned about having elaborate photo books for my children than I am about how I am showing them Christ.

As inspiring as some of these ideas I mentioned above are, we as christian moms are not called to do all of these extra things for our children. As an aside, I would probably even wager that half the time we want to do these things for our own sake rather than theirs, whether for pleasure or for self-congratulation. I know this is true for myself, at least.

On the contrary, we are called to “love the Lord our God with all our hearts and with all our souls and with all our strength and with all our minds, and our neighbors as ourselves”.  What will matter to my children is how great I make my God look, and how much they see me seeking after him and serving others, including them, because of that love.

Instead of being concerned with whether or not I can give my children picture books of themselves, I want to be committed to and consumed with giving them a living picture of a mom who seeks to live out the greatest commandment.

This is my favorite toy!

No, not for me, for Amanda! It’s a world of fun all in one corner, with the potential for keeping any child occupied for hours on end. At least that’s the way I see it.

Well, Amanda didn’t share my enthusiasm. Exhausted from carrying her while trying to tidy up around the house, I placed her amongst the penguin, piano and lion, confident that it would give me at least 15 minutes to let my arms rest. She looked up at me, let out a loud scream, and stretched out her arms in a desperate attempt to be rescued from this apparent “chamber of torture”.  Her actions were screaming “No, don’t leave me here! There’s nothing for me here! This isn’t what I want right now! Can’t you see I need more than this?”

Clearly she wasn’t seeing things from my end….maybe she just needed a little coaching. So I sat down next to her and started playing the piano. She looked at me wide eyed “Oooohh,, I didn’t know it could do that.” I pressed the little penguin’s head down and she marvelled at the sounds that he made. I placed my hand on the lion and pretended he was playing the drums…she looked at me as though I were her hero.  With patient encouragement and guidance, she began to embrace her toy for what it really was…exactly what she needed.

At the risk of spiritualizing something that is seemingly insignificant, can you see the connection to our relationship with God?

Too often, sitting at His word, my heart struggles to find enjoyment and satisfaction. In utter foolishness I entertain thoughts that say “I just can’t find anything in here that applies to me today.  This isn’t what I want right now.  I need something else.”  Yet when I turn to the Holy Spirit for wisdom and guidance, He brings the words of scripture to life, opens the eyes of my heart to see the unmatched importance, meaning and relevance of the words before me.

Looking at our lives in comparison to those around us, we may be tempted to think “Lord, I don’t have what I want. How can I be satisfied be here? Why aren’t you giving me what I know I need to be happy?” It isn’t until the Holy Spirit opens our eyes to see our circumstances for what they are…sovereignly ordained by His perfect will that our perspective can change. He shows us the blessings He has bestowed on us, helps us accept the difficulties He has allowed, and equips us to be content.

Going about our day we may struggle to see opportunities to serve the Lord. We may resolve to witness to His name, meet the needs of others, show His love in difficult circumstances.  And yet at the end of the day we may find ourselves thinking   “Guess the opportunities weren’t there today.  Maybe tomorrow He’ll bring more my way.” But when we turn to the Spirit for guidance, He opens our eyes to the many  opportunities to demonstrate His love and compassion to the world. Opportunities that our own flesh could not detect were it not for the ministry of the Holy Spirit.

“But the Helper, the Holy spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things I said to you.” John 14:26

There’s something else I realized as I sat on the floor next to Amanda. It was not so much the piano she was enjoying, but the expression on my face as the music played. It’s not the penguin she was enthralled with, but the joy she had from sitting next to me while we played together. It was our time together, and not just the toy itself that shifted her perspective, brought her joy, gave her delight. So it is when we look to the help of the Spirit. He opens our eyes to recognize the presence of God, so that wherever we are, we may find true satisfaction, because we are with the Lord.

“And I will pray to the Father and he will give you another Helper, that He may abide with you forever – the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees Him nor knows Him; but you know Him, for he dwells with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” John 14:16

As with any metaphor, the comparison falls short in many ways. I’ll point out just a few. Left to herself, Amanda would eventually figure out the joy of the toys surrounding her. Not so with us…the ministry of the Spirit is not just helpful, it is essential.  Eventually I will get tired, and I’ll need to leave her with her toy so she can carry on by herself. Not so with God’s Spirit.  He doesn’t start us off and then leave us to continue on our own. No, we need Him continually, moment by moment.  And unlike Amanda who will eventually need to learn independence,  the Spirit will never leave us! As believers we are SEALED with the indwelling Spirit…He is our DEPOSIT guaranteeing what is to come!

Circumstances, from our point of view are so different from God’s perspective. Without the Holy Spirit we can never understand His Word and the riches it contains for our heart, never recognize His providential care in our circumstances, never see the opportunities for service He is continually bringing our way. It is the Holy Spirit that gives us comfort and makes us aware of the presence of God in our lives.

Oh how we desperately need the ministering of God’s Spirit in our lives.

“In Him you also trusted, after you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation; in whom also, having believed, you were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession,, to the praise of His glory.” Ephesians 1:13-14

This week I was reminded that I don’t live on island; every decision made will have a direct impact on different people in my life. When I’m faithfully spending time in the Word and in prayer, I am a better church member, family member, friend, and employee. I know for a fact that when I let other things take precedent in my life  I tend to be less patient, more loose with my words, less likely to think about how I should be serving others, and more likely to think about how others should be serving me. In other words, I’m not exactly the kind of person you want to be around. I read a post on Tim Challies’ blog where he quotes from D.A. Carson’s, The Cross and the Christian Ministry. The post is called Many and Colorful. He writes about the different ways in which we unknowingly cause harm to our church family. Every day I’m reminded of how difficult it is to take up my cross and follow Him, but anything short of that, will have a lasting impact on much more than just myself. This week’s lesson relearned: for Christians, island living is not an option.

I sat down at the computer last night to write a blog post. Nothing came to me. Well, nothing in the form of a blog post anyway. Something else came, though. It crept in slowly, cautiously, masked and disguised as something far less ugly than what was actually hidden beneath.

I’d just read a couple of amazing blog posts by a dear sister who has an ability to write and convey her thoughts and biblical truth in such a beautiful and poetic way, and although I was deeply uplifted by her words, I found myself becoming reluctant to write because my own ability is inferior to hers. She uses metaphors and language that really allows you to feel with her and feel what she’s intending to say. It’s like the words come to life! I thought, “Why can’t I write like that? Why can’t I use images like raging waters and other aspects of nature to bring my writing to life? Why can’t I find better descriptive words? Why doesn’t anything come more easily to me? Do I even do anything really well?”

I closed the computer and went to bed, attempting to preach truth to myself, while trying to understand exactly what was going on in my restless, chaotic heart. It was as though the winds of my heart were swirling in anticipation of an imminent, ominous storm. Winds of my heart swirling? What does that even mean?  Sigh. Strike that attempt at a metaphor (or is it a simile), from the record.

Anyhow, back on track. I woke this morning and decided I would just be content with not writing today and it’s okay that I’m not that great at anything.  I’m just struggling with envy, covetousness, and pride. Bad. I labelled it, and I moved on.

For some reason though, I still felt unsettled, a slight tugging at my conscience.

Well, I opened my facebook for a few minutes this morning while the kids were playing and I saw that Tim Challies is writing a couple of posts on The Lost Sin of Envy. Great. He’ll probably articulate all my thoughts way more eloquently than I can ever hope to.  I decided to give the post for today a quick read, figuring it would resonate with some of my current struggles.

And it did. And that feeling of unsettledness that I was feeling started stirring even more. Tim paints an incredibly ugly, yet accurate picture of envy and as I read, my convictions grew. I had recognized pride in my life, but somehow in my identification of it, I forgot its vileness, its disdainfulness. When I looked at my envy, my pride and my covetousness, it was almost palatable. I gave it the right name, but that’s about it. I wasn’t recognizing it for what it actually was.

I’ve always prided myself (how ironic) on being able to identify sin in my life, but so often I forget that I need to confess it. It’s as though I’ve come to equate identification of sin with confession of sin. As I read Tim’s biblical description of envy, my patient, longsuffering Father reminded me that I needed to go to Him.

I, so often, forget the value or need for confession. I’ve made my sins acceptable, not recognized them for what they really are, and I know that I’m forgiven for all of them anyway. Confession can therefore seem almost incidental—the mere dotting of an “i”.  Obviously this is patently untrue, but I know that I definitely minimize its value and necessity.

It is at the foot of the cross, as I confess my sin, where my heart engages with my God and I become reminded afresh that He is God, and I am not. It is where I am able to recall the depth and breadth and height of his love, where I see His holiness, and I once again long for His glory. As I start to confess, the Holy Spirit works, melting that layer of ice that has begun to encompass my heart. I begin to realize how offensive my sin is, how much grace I’ve received and how much more I need. I remember that I’m not called to identify my sin, I’m called to confess it, and then to mourn over it and then to battle it. To the death.

Oh God, give me grace.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).

Tomorrow is the big day…we are moving into our new house! This will be home number 12 for me (yes, much like a Nomad I have moved around a lot in my life time!) So as a seasoned move-er would you allow me to offer some “words of wisdom” on successfully relocating into a new home? Glad you agreed….here I go:

IT’S ALL ABOUT BEING ORGANIZED

Those of you who know me well know that I am super organized (annoyingly organized if that’s even possible). I love to keep lists. I actually keep lists of the lists that I have going (up to you to decide if I’m serious or making a joke). If you want the whole packing and unpacking ordeal to go smoothly, you must stay organized! For me, that means ensuring that every box I have has a definite category. Children’s books. Fictional novels. University textbooks. I have to confess…somewhere along the lines I lost complete control of the categories. I think it’s when I came across our batteries. You can’t exactly fill an entire box of batteries. So then what category does it go in? Things that give power? That’s silly. Household Items? What wouldn’t fit into that category? Next thing I knew I had a huge box with my dish rack, Amanda’s old change pad, and a Sids bath (I’d rather not explain what that is). When you reach a point like this, it’s time to start labelling your boxes “Items that don’t have a category.” You’ll trick yourself into thinking you’re still being organized….trust me, it’ll make you feel better!

DON’T GET CAUGHT UP WITH THE SMALL STUFF

We actually got the keys to our new house last Monday, so we’ve had a few people in and out of the house doing some minor changes. Yesterday was the installation of the backsplash. Hundreds of tiny little tiles all assembled side by side by someone who has way more patience then I do. So we walked into our brand new kitchen, and all I could see was this one tiny little tile that was slightly crooked. Somehow that little tile managed to scream out “Stare at me! Notice me! Forget about your brand new kitchen and look right at me when you walk into the room!” I felt myself getting so irritated…like all that mattered was this one crooked tile…couldn’t they just have put it straight? Would it have been so hard! How easy it is to get caught up trying to create an ideal home with no imperfections…something that’s completely impossible and ultimately futile. Yes, it’s nice to have a beautiful home…but it’s only temporary. So don’t get caught up with the small stuff. Sometimes I think God draws our eyes to the imperfections to remind us as Christians not to get too comfortable and satisfied with our homes here on earth; to lift our eyes upward and long for our eternal home where there is true perfection.

EVERYTHING IS A LESSON IN CHARACTER BUILDING

We’ve had to deal with many contractors over the past few months. It’s definitely something that tries your patience. No one seems to move at the pace that you expect, and when things don’t happen when and how you want them, it’s easy to see people as stumbling blocks to your plans, rather than individuals who are working hard to earn a living. Yes, our cabinets have been  installed slightly irregular – that doesn’t give me the right to talk down to anyone. The light in our front porch isn’t working – does that mean I can be rude to the site supervisor? It’s in these small dealings with people around me where our character is shown for what it is. Are we patient, gentle and gracious towards those we deal with? Does Christ shine through our attitudes?  It’s not that we can’t confront the issues and ask for them to be corrected…but ultimately every instance is an opportunity to allow Christ to shine through our attitudes, rather than obsess over claiming our rights.

REMEMBER THAT YOU’RE STILL MARRIED!

Moving can turn your marriage into somewhat of a business relationship. You become partners in this major project, and if you’re not careful you can start to speak to each other like co-workers rather than best friends. You meet to discuss what needs to be accomplished that day, you summarize your achievements at the end of the day….and periodically you meet together to sign documents and make payments. Conversations become mini staff meetings rather than opportunities to share your heart and show love and affection.. As with planning a wedding, having a child and any other major life change, the temptation is for life, and your marriage, to become all about that! I have to remember that it doesn’t matter what colour cabinets I want, where the sofa will look best or which side of the room the table should go. What ultimately matters is that I’m serving my husband and looking out for his interest and happiness. (Though for the record I’m usually right about where furniture should go!)

LEARN FROM YOUR CHIILDREN

Every time I move, I have this sad feeling when I’m leaving my old house for the very last time. I take a last look at my home that now stands completely bare. Without our belongings it is reduced to bare walls and floors…it looks sad, lonely, almost abandoned. It’s then that I remember that our home is not about the physical walls, but about the love and unity that exists within the family members. I realized this lesson even more when I brought Amanda to our new house. After working so hard to get it ready and make it exactly what we want, Amanda looked around completely unimpressed. She couldn’t care less about the colour of the floors and the upgraded mantle piece on the fireplace. All she wants is to be in our arms. To her, that’s a true home.

And ultimately, this is the believer’s true home, in the presence of the Lord. I look at how hard I work to prepare for my new home…and I’m reminded to work even harder to prepare for the day that I will be in the presence of God. I don’t mean work hard to earn may way into His presence…that’s something the cross alone can accomplish. I mean work hard to seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness. Work hard for the Kingdom that is to come. Work hard for the crowns that we will one day lay down at the feet of Jesus.

Revelation 21

¹And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.

²And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.

³And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God.

⁴And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

⁵And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful.

⁶And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.

⁷He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son.