Category: Spiritual Life

Russell’s new favorite word is “mine.” We didn’t teach him to hold the bowl of berries to his chest and say, “mine” when his friends come over for lunch. We did not show him how to grab the toy and say “mine” during play dates in our backyard. We did not directly teach him to view it as “mine.” But he has figured out a new word, and he sure likes to use it!

Even though I don’t run around saying “mine” like a toddler, I sure can act like my stuff is all mine in my heart, attitudes and behavior. Every time I hear Russell say “mine” I am reminded that this stuff – all this stuff – is really not mine. I am reminded that God has entrusted me with this one and only life, with this one and only season, and with these one and only opportunities to serve Him. It is not my business I’m running, it is not my staff that I am leading, it is not my church, or my house, or my car, or even my child. Everything belongs to God. The whole earth is His.

Yesterday at church I got to hug a pregnant mom who is about to have her first baby. She told me that she is physically ready to have the baby but that she has emotionally been very sad about the season of life called “married with no children” coming to an end.

I can relate. Tim and I were married for 10 years before Russell was born. I remember being 8 months pregnant and so positively eager to meet our little sprout but simultaneously being so unmistakably sad to say goodbye to that decade of just Tim and me. I was grieving the end of an era that would never come again. I was mourning the loss of a stage of life that only comes once. I was saying goodbye to a part of my life that had been full of sweetness and difficulty and change and growth. Saying goodbye felt so very sad.

Now we are in this new stage called “raising young children,” and I’m sure when Russell goes to kindergarten, I will grieve the loss of this stage too. Then, all too soon, I’m told, Russell will graduate from high school and go off into the world, which is both a loss and a joy I cannot even imagine right now.

Talking with my pregnant friend got me thinking about how completely not in-the-moment I tend to live. I’m almost always thinking about what is gone or what is next, imagining the future, thinking about tonight, or tomorrow, or next week ,or next year, or in the case of Russell’s graduation, 16 years from now!

Recently, Tim’s mom came and stayed with us for 2 weeks, and she kept singing a song to Russell, called “Jesus’ love is sweet.” We’ve kept singing it since she left, and I’ve been making it my practice to use that little jingle as a cue to myself to pause and be in the moment. I am using that little song, which we sing countless times each day, to slow myself, to center myself, to breathe in deeply the presence and love of God and the sweetness of this season, even if there are fish crackers all over the car and smushed bananas on my new couch.

My cue goes like this, “Jesus’ love is sweet and wonderful, O,O, wonderful love. Higher then the mountains, deeper than the ocean, wider then the universe, O, O, wonderful love.” Maybe you can find a cue that’s helpful to you when you find yourself pulled into the past or catapulted into the future. Whatever life stage you find yourself in, whether good or bad, heartbreaking or exhilarating, you can be sure that it will not last. So, be present to it, knowing that our Lord holds our past, present, and future securely, and His love endures forever. O, O wonderful love!

Matt and Monika had their baby this week, and they brought him to church when he was just a few days old. When I saw baby Rockwell, I marveled at those little fingers and his tiniest button of a nose. Part of me wanted to freeze time for Matt and Monika, to somehow bottle up this newborn season and never let him grow up because he is so very sweet, little, and perfectly beautiful.

Tim’s and my son Russell turns two years old this week, and he is becoming such a big boy! During these two years, we have eagerly awaited and embraced each of the “nexts” he has grown into. We were so excited when he could roll over, sit up, stand, walk on his knees (for a year), then walk on his tippy toes, and now run. A lot has changed in two years! So, when I saw baby Rockwell, I wanted to freeze time, not just for him but also for Russell. Please, sweet baby love, stay small for a little longer because life goes so fast. Let your mama and daddy hold you and love you and snuggle you forever.

But we all know that my wish isn’t possible. There will soon be no stopping Rockwell from rolling and crawling and running. And even if Matt and Monika could slow Rockwell’s growth and hold him close to home for his whole life, would they do that? Probably not. They understand that a parent’s role is not to keep our children small. The goal of parenting is to provide an environment of nurture and love so that a child can grow up well. Our responsibility is to point the way and provide the space so that our children can spread their wings, fly, and eventually soar. We get to show, to tell, to model, and to teach (even in failures) what life with God looks like.

So Matt and Monika and baby Rockwell and big boy Russell, may you never stop growing into his love and goodness for you. May we as your church family provide the love and nurture and space that you need to become all God has designed you to be.

Last week, over dinner, Tim said, “Susie, I think you are a great mom, but I am kind of sick of the road block I hit when I try to express that to you. So I’m not going to try to tell you that you’re a great mom anymore because there is such strong resistance in your mind, and you just cannot receive my words.”

I didn’t really like being called out on my shame fest. I know how frustrating it is to offer encouragement to someone, only to be met with a stonewall of resistance because the other person just cannot accept the compliment. I was a little shocked that my shame had reached this level in my life and was creating a rift between Tim and me.

I have had to admit that Tim’s observation was true. All my traveling away from Russell recently has left me feeling like a bad mom. The weight of that self-doubt and self-criticism is unbearable. I don’t know any parents who do not at least occasionally question whether they are doing a good job. Parenting is a big task, and there is no manual. Still, I don’t want to live in shame. I don’t want my shame to shape my sense of worth and purpose. I want God to shape my life. I want my roles as mother, wife, and pastor to be grounded in God’s love, grace, and wisdom.

So I told Tim I’d make him a deal. If he would agree to keep offering encouragement and affirmation, I would agree to change my response – even if it were forced and fake at first. I told him that if he tries to compliment me or encourage me about my parenting, I will immediately drop onto one knee and say, “Yes!” like a quarter-back scoring in the end zone of a football game. I figured dramatic measures are called for in drastic circumstances.

The truth is that I am a good parent. Not always, and not perfectly, but I am doing my best, and God offers me grace for the rest. The same is true for you.

So, wherever your shame resides, I invite you to join me on a counter-mission to try to re-wire and exchange your self-critical thoughts for God’s thoughts. The truest thing about you is not what you say about yourself in your head. The truest thing about you is what God says about you, and He says you are deeply loved. The Bible says that perfect love casts out fear. God invites us to live in His perfect love. This love has the power to transform us from the inside out, if we’ll only receive and abide in His love.
So, the next time someone offers you kind words about an area of your life where you feel discouraged and unworthy, please do an end-zone dance for me, to God’s glory.

“And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” -2 Cor. 3:18

On our last full day together as a team in Guatemala, we sat around a long dining room table nestled in a cozy casita in the middle of the rain forest, and we took turns sharing our appreciation for each team member. Each person had a turn at being in the “hot seat” and was only allowed to say “thank you” as each team member shared what they appreciated about that person during our week of serving and traveling together in Guatemala. At times you could feel the awkwardness for an individual whose preference was to keep the attention off of them, but we patiently persisted in sharing our words of love with one another. “One thing I appreciate about you is….” -or- “I really enjoyed when you….” -or- “Thank you for being….”

All right, I’ll admit it: almost every night I tiptoe quietly into Russell’s room and watch him sleep. Yes, I am one of those moms. Last night he was sprawled out on his back with his arms in the air, but sometimes he’s rolled up like a ball or lying on his side with a friend under his head. Russell has lots of “friends” in his crib with him. When I tuck him it at night, his stuffed animal friends become a comfort for him. He smiles at them, and plays with them, and shares his bottle with them before falling asleep. Mr. Turtle is a prize I won from Jay Hedberg during a fun and silly game at Brian and Lara’s rehearsal dinner, and Brown Bear is a gift from John Miret when Russell was born. Another friend, “Little Dog,” was an impromptu gift from Sharon just before she moved back to Malaysia. Gabby gave Mrs. Red-White-and-Blue Bear to Russell for Christmas last year. And, finally, my niece Lola and G-Ma made White Bear for Russell at Build-A-Bear last summer. All of Russell’s “friends,” with their amazingly creative names (I know!), remind me of the rich community that surrounds our lives as a family.

Last week I learned that some dear friends had received very scary news about a genetic disorder in their unborn child. This kind of news has a gut-kick effect that is usually followed by numbness, anger and denial, and ultimately fear and sadness. Tim and I happened to have dinner plans scheduled with our friends the day after they received the news. We listened and they shared, and we all cried at the table together. Then we prayed, and as we bowed our heads, I was overwhelmed with the reality of how much this baby is loved. No matter what happens, this baby is so incredibly loved. An amazing community of people surrounds this baby, who has not yet even emerged from the womb. Many people deeply love the baby’s mom and dad, and their love extends to the child they have never met.

I don’t know – I really don’t know – why God allows things like genetic disorders and natural disasters and terminal illnesses and so many others kinds of suffering. In this situation involving my friends, I keep thinking, “Wow, Lord, you are going to have to give some kind of account for this in eternity because it just makes no sense.” But one thing I do know is that love and friends and community surround this little one, much like how all those stuffed animal friends surround Russell as he sleeps.

When I think and pray for this child, I imagine a community of love – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – and a whole slew of other “friends” gathered all around this precious one as she sleeps and grows inside her mom.