It is my utmost privilege as a Christian to have opportunities to share Christ with people who don’t yet know him personally. It is my supreme joy as a parent to be able to have that same conversation with my boys.

No. 2 has been asking questions for a while – since No. 1 got baptized a couple of years ago, actually. Off and on, he seemed curious but it didn’t seem to totally resonate with him. He asked some probing questions this weekend when he was with my mom, and they talked for a while. Tonight, he came up to me in the hallway and said, “I’ve been thinking — why did God make the world, and what’s going to happen to me when I die?” Wow; it can’t get much more probing than that! I told him that I’d like to talk to him some more about it, when we could talk privately, so we did bedtime prayers and tucked everyone in … Dad called right as we were about to do prayers, so he got to join us on speaker phone! … then, No. 2 & I went to my room to talk more.

One of the things I told him was that I lost some family members when I was young, too. I had two cousins who were killed in car accidents (not the same incident) and uncles & aunts who died from one reason or another in a seemingly short period of time. No. 2 was very close to his Uncle Nathan, and I know that this must be weighing on his little heart. He perked up when I told him about the family members I had lost. I think it helped for him to realize that yes, I was a kid once, and I remember what it feels like to be scared. In fact, I explained, it was my fear of dying that led me to ask questions, too.

We talked through the basics, which he already understood; namely, that Jesus came to take our place, because our sins – our bad choices – keep us from God. I said that if you created a robot, it would do anything you wanted it to, because you invented it, but could it ever love you? Of course not. God didn’t create us to be robots. He gave us choices. Sometimes we make good choices, but a lot of times, we don’t. He wants us to choose to love him.

We talked about how you can’t always see “sin,” but it’s kinda like having a sinkful of dirty dishes in your heart. He piped up and said, “Yeah, and Jesus came to make them clean, like a dishwasher!” I couldn’t have said it better myself. I think that’s when it hit home with him.

We prayed repeat-after-me style together, and then I tickled his chest and made a “swoosh-swoosh” sound like a dishwasher. “Uh, Mommy?” he said, pointing at the other side of his chest, “My heart’s on this side.” We laughed and then called to share the good news with Dad, Nana and Grandma.

We also talked about how the Bible says there is a party in heaven when someone accepts Christ. Luke 15:10 is the reference. I have a beautiful image in my mind’s eye of Nathan and the angels gettin’ down and partying because one more son is coming home.

Rejoice with me!

The best part about watching a movie based on a book that you’ve already read is that you have a frame of reference within which to place the important details of the story. Take Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, for example. (*SPOILER ALERT: References to both HP6 & HP7 plot content follow!)

If you’ve read through book six (HP & the H-BP), you know that Dumbledore dies. It is a tragic turn of events, indeed, and the whole wizarding community (sans Death Eaters, naturally) collectively mourns his loss. However, it isn’t until the seventh and final book (HP & the Deathly Hallows) when you understand more fully why he died. So many things become clearer as the tale unfolds!

In the movie version, we can hear Dumbledore plead with Severus and see the pained expression on his aged face: “Please …” as if begging him to spare his life. We don’t yet know that Dumbledore was actually asking Severus to honor his pledge to complete the deed himself. We know that Severus made the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa and that his own life is on the line if he does not fulfill Draco’s objective, but what we don’t yet know is that Dumbledore was already dying. We don’t yet know that he and Severus made a pact toward this precise end. We don’t yet know that by obliging Dumbledore’s command to kill him that night, Severus not only fulfilled his promise to spare the headmaster a most grueling and painful impending death, but he also spared Draco the damnation of being a murderer. In the context of the whole story, Severus was not a murderer at all. But we don’t know that yet.

Instead, we relate to the character of Harry, who in the throws of mourning blamed himself for not coming to Dumbledore’s aid. He reflects back on the events of that evening and considers it all a waste. He channels his anger and regret into hatred toward Severus Snape. Isn’t that just like us in real life? When things go seemingly well and our friends & loved ones are happy and healthy, then we praise God for his goodness. But when our circumstances change for the worse, we blame the fallen world in which we live.

The Bible tells us that Christ is the same today as he was yesterday and no different from how he’ll be tomorrow (Hebrews 13:8). If that is true (and I believe it is), then doesn’t it mean that even our tragedies somehow fit into God’s bigger plan for our lives, for others’ lives, for the world? It’s difficult when we’re so close to a situation and the pain of the loss is so raw to be able to see how it might fit into the big picture of God’s will.

I will never know why God saved my brother once from a serious car accident all those years ago, yet let him die in a different type of accident this year. However, I do know that God can (and has … and will …) use the situation to his glory. If one person comes to a personal relationship with Christ as the result of Nathan’s story, then in the grand scheme of eternity, I would have to say that it was worth it. Not in a crass or flippant sense, of course – because I certainly wish it had never happened and would do anything in my power to undo it! I just mean that if his life, even through his death, prompted another life to turn to Christ, then it was a life worth living. I don’t have the benefit of hindsight, because the last chapters haven’t been revealed to me yet. I just have to walk by faith and trust that the same God who loved me and led me on Jan. 22 did not change during the dark hours of Jan. 23 and will be the same God who loves and leads me tomorrow.

I attended the Baylor chaplain’s Christmas prayer service for the bereaved tonight. I wasn’t feeling particularly sad when I arrived, although I did have a trying day with Riley at daycare and was still a bit frazzled from having to deal with that. There was just something about walking into a quiet, peaceful room with a young man playing acoustic guitar and a few candles lit here and there — I felt such a sense of rest & release. I had one of those spiritually awake moments when you feel like the whole service was meant for you and you alone.

The service began with an Invitation to Mourn. Amidst the holiday hullabaloo, those who are grieving, sad, distraught and broken can easily feel overwhelmed or excluded. We were reminded that if this doesn’t feel like “the most wonderful time of the year,” we are in good company. Even the key characters in the original Christmas story weren’t exactly at high points in their lives. They pointed out a few, but I thought of some others:

• the shepherds had lowly jobs
• Joseph had contemplated divorce
• Mary was an unwed mother and no doubt exhausted from traveling at full-term
• the innkeeper was overwhelmed by customers
• Harod felt threatened
• countless moms and dads suffered & grieved when Harod siezed and killed their young sons
• the magi brought gifts, including burial spice (imagine that as a baby shower gift!!)

Christmas is a glorious story of God’s intervention and his salvation plan for our lives. It is certainly a time of celebration and remembrance of God’s provision. However, the very reason why we have Christmas … the reason Jesus needed to come, in the first place … is because we are broken, helpless sinners. Christ[mas] is for the broken.

Without realizing that I’m doing it, I have a tendency to put on my “strong face” and try to be the rock for everyone around me. You can only be the Strong One for so long, though, and I know that I have to allow myself some degree of emotional and mental downtime. Tonight was my opportunity to be weak and let my heart be ministered to … to wallow in my grief a while and know that it’s ok to miss Nathan so desperately that it hurts down to my bones. It was also a time to be uplifted and encouraged that with all the festivities of Christmas comes the most important gift: Hope.

This morning in the car, we were listening to a song on the radio by MercyMe called “Bring the Rain.” One of the biggest blessings of being a parent is hearing my boys sing along to praise music. I sometimes imagine angels in the car with us, jamming along as we sing.This particular song, in case you aren’t familiar with it, is especially powerful to me because it talks about praising God even when we are in a deluge of pain and suffering.

At one point during the song, Ry caught a word and asked me, “What does ‘circumstance’ mean?” I explained that it means the stuff that is happening in your life – what’s going on right now around you. I told him that the song says we need to remember to thank God even when our circumstances – whatever is happening in our lives, make us feel sad or mad. God is still in control even when we don’t feel happy or when something happens that makes us feel sad.

As I tried to explain this big word to two inquisitive preschoolers, I thought about I Thessalonians 5:18, where the Bible says to “give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” It’s easier said than done sometimes.

If I’ve learned anything through the suffering that I have experienced in my life, it is that I exist for God’s pleasure, not the other way around. God is not a magic genie who grants wishes and assures me a life of luxury. If I can’t praise God when I’m broken and weary, then what good is my worship of him when life is swell and I feel on top of the world?

I’ve talked before about not having a death wish yet yearning for eternity. This life is not permanent. It’s not my final destination. I’m not even promised tomorrow. Happenstance can feel good and make me happy, or life can throw a curve ball and make me feel gloomy. Either way, my present circumstances cannot be my reason for being.

Nine months. It is natural to think of time in terms of years, but once you become a parent, it seems that nine-month increments take on new meaning. In that span of time, new life is created, nurtured, celebrated and born.

Since Nathan died, I am keenly aware of this day each month. A cloud of melancholy drifts overhead on the 23^rd. Later this evening, it’ll dawn on me again, and I’ll have flash-backs of zoning out in the car while Lane drove us to Magnolia that dark and cold night.

Much has changed, yet much remains frozen in time in my memory. Nine months. Babies have been conceived and born since my brother died.

It’s hard for me to talk about my heavenly desire sometimes, even with other Christians, because we get caught up in our day-to-day ruts and don’t think much further than our Outlook calendars. Yet, there is a piece of my heart and soul that aches so much – today, especially – to step into Forever.

We have been given a promise that life doesn’t end with our last breath. As believers, this day-to-day journey of flesh & blood is just a dress rehearsal for the Eternal Broadway. This achy, tired, stretch-marked, overweight, sagging body is a costume. Like the grass metaphor in the verse below, our season here on Earth is limited, but oh, the glory that awaits us!

^“You have been born again, and this new life did not come from something that dies, but from something that cannot die. You were born again through God’s living message that continues forever. The Scripture says,
‘All people are like the grass,
and all their glory is like the flowers of the field.
The grass dies and the flowers fall,
but the word of the Lord will live forever.’ [— Isaiah 40:6–8 ]
And this is the word that was preached to you.”

1 Peter 1:23-25 (New Century Version)

A recent Sunday sermon was on leaving a legacy and finishing well. In other words, what are people going to say about us when we die? Naturally, I think most of us want to be remembered for our positive contributions and the relationships we held — being a loving parent, a devoted spouse, a cherished friend. Those things are important, but what’s even more important is the impact that our lives made here that will resonate into eternity.

There are so many people I’m looking forward to seeing in heaven. Family members top the list – my grandparents, my brother, my aunts, cousins … people who I know loved the Lord and are in his presence even at this very moment. There are also those who I will never see again on earth but anticipate greatly reuniting with them on glory’s side. Some I don’t even know or remember their names! There is “Esther,” a dear girlfriend from China. Then there’s the young woman who led the youth at a Methodist church that we attended for a while. She impacted my early walk with Christ in a postive way. There’s the guy who participated in a training class with me during college and encouraged me in the faith. What joy it will be to spend eternity together!

I also thought about the first person I led to Christ. I was scared out of my wits that I would say the wrong thing or that I would stumble on my words so much that she would be confused as we prayed together. God, in his mercy, has a way of using even our clumsiest moments! It will be nice to see her, too.

Pastor Steve asked what we would want written on our gravestone, and I immediately thought of Nathan’s. My mom, Kristen and I talked at length about what to write, what verse to use, etc. I am pleased with the end result, because I feel like it sums up everything Steve was saying. The verse we chose not only echos the meaning of my brother’s name, but it is a testament to his faith journey. Nathan would be the first to say that he didn’t have it all together; he was still learning and growing in his faith, but aren’t we all? I have yet to meet a perfect person, and something tells me that God doesn’t have much need to use perfect people, even if such existed.

Our gift from God

I believe that Nathan finished well. He loved God and made his faith a big part of his life, in general. He also left a legacy — an example for his boys to emulate. No, he wasn’t perfect, but he was real. He was a gift from God for 30 years of my life. I hope that I, too, can live up to my namesake and be a “messenger” of his grace and goodness to others.

Two wise women have told me recently that God has different ministries in mind for us at different stages in life. I need to mull over this concept a little more, then I’ll write about it later when the fog clears. I wanted to mention it now as a placeholder, of sorts – something to jog my thinking and cause me to pause and ponder.

My ministry? Hmm – I never really thought of it that way. Could it be that part of my ministry right now IS the boys and Lane? Instead of feeling frustrated about all the things that are utterly out of my control these days, could it be that part of the reason God chose me for this task is because I’m somehow – with his grace! – able to minister to these guys with whom I share my life and home? Lord, teach me how.

“But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.” – II Timothy 4:5

Prejudice is, in essence, pre-judging someone or something. Last year, I was asked to participate in the Campus Diversity Committee at the university where I work, and this year, I was asked to chair the committee. I hope that I am doing a good job; there is still much to learn. Interestingly, the past few months of having all of the boys under one roof has opened my eyes in a way that I hadn’t expected: I’ve become much more aware of prejudice.

There’s this certain look that people give me when I have five boys in tow. I’ve seen The Look at the grocery store, at Wal-Mart, the movie theatre … just about everywhere. I haven’t seen The Look at church, which I think largely speaks to the familial atmosphere at Crossroads, in general, but also b/c most everyone knows our story, anyway.

The Look says several things:

• When the eyebrows are raised and the eyes are round like saucers, The Look says: “Oh. My. God. Doesn’t that woman know what birth control is?!”
• When just one eyebrow is raised and the person stares for a while, The Look says: “She’s out of her ever-lovin’ mind to come here with all those kids.”
• When the lips are pursed and the person looks sideways at someone else, The Look says: “Tsk, tsk, it’s no wonder those boys are being rowdy. She can’t handle them.”
• When The Look is accompanied by a sigh, it says: “Pity that poor woman. She’s so overwhelmed, she obviously doesn’t have time to exercise. Look how fat she is.”

I know what The Look says, because I’ve given it myself. I’ve made sweeping accusations of people  based solely on a first impression. It’s easy to do. Our imaginations try to put people in compartments – boxes, if you will – that are familiar to us. When they don’t fit, we’re not sure what to do, so we judge them for being odd.

Some Lookers keep quiet, but oftentimes Lookers can’t resist becoming Chatters. You know Chatters … they say things like, “Wow – you’ve got your hands full, don’t you?” or, “Wow – all boys, eh?”  I usually just shrug and smile, maybe throw in a “yep” and go on about my way. It’s best, of course, when the boys are behaving well, because then the Chatter will remark about how good the kids are. That makes me happy; validation always feels good as a parent.

So, how does this have anything to do with the Campus Diversity Committee? My experience as a Parent of Five Boys has caused me to pause before judging someone based on a first impression. I believe that my worldview has had its edges softened a bit, and I’m better able to understand where people are coming from, because I take the time to get to know them before I formulate an opinion about them.

“All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.'” – I Peter 5:5b

No. 4 and I were in the car alone the other day – a rare treat, just the two of us! I don’t remember exactly how the conversation got started, but we began talking about Daddy and how he lives in heaven now. He asked when Daddy would be alive again, and I responded that he wouldn’t – his body died, so we don’t get to see him anymore. I reminded him that we would get to see him when it’s our turn to go to heaven, but until then, we could share stories and talk about Daddy whenever we want to.

He said, “I know, but is he alive in heaven?” So, I told him yes, that he’s alive in heaven with Jesus and probably getting to meet all sorts of cool people – maybe even Moses and Noah! He thought this was very awesome. We talked about how neato it must be to meet an angel in person and other Bible figures we might like to meet.

Then, he asked, “Is the box in heaven, too?” which threw me for a loop. I asked if he meant the box with Daddy’s body that quit working inside, and he said yes. I explained that the box is still in the ground at the cemetery where the flowers and stuff are, and it would stay there, but the Bible says that in heaven, you get a brand new body. I said that I don’t know exactly what the body looks like, but I bet it’s a nice, strong body – since Daddy was so strong – and definitely awesome, whatever it looks like, since God is perfect and anything he makes is awesome.

He replied casually, “Yeah, I bet it looks like Incredible Hulk.”

The “Just Give Me Jesus” revival this weekend was wonderful. Part of Friday’s message has stuck with me, so I thought I would mention it here. Anne Graham Lotz walked us through Christ’s experiences leading up to his arrest and crucifixion, not the least of which was the suffering he endured. We often hear the story and think of Jesus as the victim — mistreated, abused, tortured — and certainly he did experience horrific pain and agony.

What we fail to remember, though, is that he had the power to call down legions of angels at any moment to intervene. As if he would even need the assistance of angels! Just the very pronouncement of his holy Name caused the guards who had come to arrest him to fall flat on their faces. Yet, he willingly gave himself over to be bound, arrested and subjected to the intense pain and suffering of the cross … for me. He knew that every step was part of God’s will.

It’s hard for us to think that binding/suffering could actually be part of God’s will. We want to serve a happy-go-lucky God who makes us healthy, wealthy and comfortable. Sometimes, though — for reasons far beyond our comprehension or understanding — God’s will includes our discomfort. We may not know why, at the time. Indeed, we may never know why!!

One thing I do know, at least in my experience, is that God will always bring people into my path who need to know what I’ve endured so that it can strengthen their own faith during a time of great challenge for them. When my longtime boyfriend broke up with me in college and all the plans I’d dreamt for my young adult life suddenly changed, I met girl after girl who needed to hear that there is a God who adores them and finds them ravishing. Even in these fiercely painful months coping with the death of my brother, I’ve had the privilege of speaking with so many people about the hope that we have in Christ. I pray that I may be willing and open to letting God use my suffering to his glory and for his will.