Three Convictions...

Conviction #1: Bible Reading
At the beginning of this year, Joe challenged us as a family to read through the bible in a year. Our family worship would consist of the New Testament readings and our personal devotions would be in the Old Testament. I've tried numerous times before to "read through in a year", but favoring the New Testament because it's easier to apply, I've always failed. That's why, at 27 years old and in a year going to be a pastor's wife, I haven't read through the entire bible. I think I've read most of it, excluding a few prophets, but never connected it all together and read through it like the book it is. I haven't devoured it like the life giving food it is, and most days in personal devotions I look at the amount I have to read and sigh because I have other matters to attend to. I think that's why the Lord is leading me through the Old Testament.

Israel was a rebellious nation. In the book of Hosea, God has His prophet marry a prostitute to give an illustration of what His relationship with His bride, the church/Israel, is like. They (we) are faithless, whoring after idols (gods in their case, money, materials, and people-pleasing in ours), always saying they'll be faithful, but the next chapter revealing they have turned once again away from the God of their Deliverance. The book of Judges begins and ends with telling how the people did what was right in their own eyes, and what happens because of that.

So, when I read through 1 Samuel, and see that the people have asked God, their Ruler, Deliverer, and Savior, for a king because they wanted someone to fight their battles for them (what?!), I can't help but stop after my readings and pray. God... I have been rebellious. I have forgotten that You fight my battles. I have tried to do things on my terms and by my abilities. Needless to say Lord, I failed. I couldn't even focus on You today, Your Sabbath day, because I was too distracted. I didn't seek after you. Please Lord, forgive me. Thank you Lord for Your Son, through whom I am redeemed and washed as white as snow. Thank you Lord that today we sang a psalm talking about how we are by faith assured of Your salvation (which of course is found in Christ). You are so good and merciful to remind me. Lord, You brought Saul before me in my readings. He wanted to rush through Your sacrifices. He wanted to get it done because he had things to do. So he didn't wait for Your servant Samuel to come and do it right. And for that he was rebuked by Samuel and his rule was prophesied to be shortened by the coming of David. God... forgive me my hastiness. My thinking that my things are more important than Yours. Again... You are good to humble me and set me back on the straight and narrow path. Keep me, in Christ, from turning to the right or to the left. Teach me to follow You so that I may walk in Your Way. Teach me to be more like Christ, who IS the Way, the Truth, and the Life. My King and Savior. Amen...

Conviction #2: The Poor and Needy
This doubled with today's sermon, did you ever think upon the fact that we will stand before the Judgement seat of God. That He will judge us for how we have walked. Because of Christ, we will not be burned in the fire and we will join Him in glory, but our deeds will still be looked at. I've felt the most convicted and feared God when I see people (most of them are men) on the side of the road with homeless signs. Now... I recognize that not all men are being honest, and that is for God to judge them, but they are seeking aid, and so I ask how I can give it. A few weeks back, it was a meal with a man named Tony who doesn't get anything to eat from 6am until almost 8pm. The man at the gas station, it was a quarter for bus fare. But one man stumped me. I saw him as I took the boys into Sam's with me, so we got an extra hot dog, chips, and water for him with the intention of handing it off as we passed. But when we got close with the car, and I stuck my head out to talk with hot dog and chips in hand, he said he couldn't eat flour, meat, etc. etc. because he had cancer but he was grateful for the water and dismissed me on my way. Okay... I thought the entire way home how I could have handled that better. How I could have offered to take him to get a salad, or brought him home and cooked for him as he showed me what he could and couldn't have. So when I was out that way again, and again I saw the same man at the same corner, I turned the car around so I could once again offer help since his sign said he needed it. Again, he went through what he couldn't eat, and so I offered to drive him to get a big salad (seemingly "okay" in his list of dietary restrictions). But he said that wasn't nutritious since it was only lettuce. Stumped, I saw him walk away after saying that, walk up to a truck that offered him money, and happily go and count it. Ah. It was the reminder of what my heart had been hardened so long against today's poor on the streets. I had met and read an article about a man in KC who sat outside of a bookstore downtown and begged for a living. His living did him so well, he took a yearly vacation to the Rockies for skiing. So how do you help in a world that doesn't know it's true need? You pray. You pray that your heart wouldn't be hardened. That you would have ample opportunities to share Christ, and help find work. I thought on how Cush4Christ, a mission in south Sudan, came not offer schools or food, but instead offered Christ and a work ethic that the people are beginning to thrive on. They were shown the resources they have at their disposal if they would just USE them.

I feel as though I should be armed with a list of shelters (for men and women), soup kitchens, and other services around the city. But then realize that the church should be giving those things. So instead, I need to be armed with the phone numbers of my church session, and secretary.

Dear Lord, keep me and my children safe as we minister. Lord, I know You go with us because You ask this of us in Your Word. What we do for these people, we do to You. Thank You for Your servants in Kokomo, Indiana who shared how You worked in their congregation to teach them how to care for the poor and needy around them. Help me to know better how to do it because You ask it of me. Amen...

Conviction #3: Taking a Call
As we're hitting our last 2 weeks of our 2nd year in seminary, I realize that as Joe goes out to preach at various places, we may be called anywhere this time next year. I weigh the various places that have (or will have) open pulpits. I think of the congregations themselves, I think of their distance proximity to our families, I think of their histories within the denomination, I think of the ministry opportunities they've sought in the past or could do in the future. I think... a lot. But one day, after Joe and I talked about a congregation, I realized that weighing all these things seemed wrong. Granted, I'm sure there are fits that are necessary between a pastor and his congregation (and I need to study and learn them BEFORE next year!), but aren't we called to administer the gospel everywhere? Jesus doesn't say to go where you feel more comfortable, or where you like the climate, or where you can be close to people you know. He just says to GO. So what's the difference if one place is urban and the other is rural? If one place is small and the other nearly ready to church plant it's brimming over? If one is a church plant and will take work and the other is established since the early 1900s? I need to be content wherever Joe is called because that is where the gospel in needed. That is a flock that needed a proxy-shepherd to the Good Shepherd, to lead them in His ways. Jesus went to the people wherever they were, and I shouldn't shield my family because one place is outside my comfort zone. I should rely upon God, and maybe get a big dog if necessary. God WILL provide, as He has always done so for us in the past. I needn't worry about insurance, finances, or security (well, I need to be a good steward of those things, but I don't have to worry about them) because God has and WILL care for His people wherever He places them. So the congregation that we go to this time next year will be just right, because God called us to them.

God, please be preparing our congregation for us. Open up their hearts to us and ours to them so that wherever You lead us it will be a fruitful ministry that fears You above all things and desires to give glory to Your name. Be preparing that congregation, whomever they may be, so that our names will already be in the back of their minds as a possibility, and may prepare us so that we may serve them as Your servants. Thank You Lord, for caring for our each and every need. I know with confidence that You will take care of this one perfectly, because You are perfect. You are just. You are faithful. Thank you Lord. Amen.

The Unknown

Well... an early morning is here again, and as usual, inability to go back to bed affords time to blog. My mind is racing with things I want to do before Judah or Levi wake up, which means I find myself in the middle of one thing and realize I was doing another. My brain is in a fog, but not of tiredness. I'm wired. I drink decaf coffee, maybe with an occasional flavoring of 1/4 caffeinated. So coffee isn't the excuse. I'm just overwhelmed with thinking lately.

Our little family has reached the "over half way done" mark of seminary, and the future looms ahead. Where will we end up? What's left to do? What SHOULD we (or I mainly) do before seminary's over? How are our finances? Will they hold steady for another year? What can we cut back on? What should we go ahead and do? Judah's getting older. What should we be starting with him? Is 15-30 minutes of school time enough each day? Levi's getting bigger. What should I be doing to make sure he's developing on track? What did Judah do at this age? Joe's got a lot on his plate. What can I be doing better at home to make sure he can do all that he needs to do?

Seriously. My mind is everywhere. I find myself often staring at our map of the RPCNA US churches (which was created in 2010 or 2011 and is no longer up to date) and going over and over in my head where empty pulpits are. Where church plants are being made. Where church plants are being researched. The unknown is daunting. Will we be on the west coast where things are growing and exciting? The east coast/eastern Midwest where some pulpits have been empty for a while and need nurturing or will be opening up soon? The Midwest where faces are a bit more familiar and family is closer? Then I find myself thinking, "Well... I can't do much. Joe will have to preach at those various places, pass "license to receive a call exams", and then candidate." Then I realize it goes beyond that. We can't do anything without God's pre-ordaining it.

And that's where peace can be found. "... the Lord is at hand, do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:5b-7). He's taking care of it. Not just a small portion either. All of it. Down to Judah's future potty-training skills. He's got it covered.

"Now this I say and testify in the Lord, that you must no longer walk as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their minds. They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart... But that is not the way you learned Christ!— assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness" (Eph. 4:17-24).

God has called me to "put off and put on", to trust fully in Him and keep my focus on eternity knowing He will lay every stepping stone perfectly before me. And further more, He will give me the strength to do it. I could cry in relief right now. "He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord" (Psalm 40:3). Praise the Lord!

Out of... Wherever...

To me... there's no such thing as a severe diabetic. There's diabetic. And not diabetic. Granted, some do better on a schedule, and some dangerously fly by the seat of their pants. But that's another discussion. Post-maternity, it is difficult to get a handle on it. Nursing makes you low, and then exercising in general only adds to it. I joked with my endocrinologist (diabetes specialist) that having children is the cure for diabetes because I hardly needed (or need now post-Levi) any insulin!

This afternoon I "woke up" on the couch. I say "wake up" because I was probably talking or at least laying with my eyes open for some time before I was conscious of it. I remember sugar water, Joe and I's cheap form of juice when we're out. And I have a splitting headache from the surreal effect I had of the low- everything shifting slightly right. If that "sight" doesn't give you a headache, I don't know what does. I remember feeding Levi, and Judah not listening to Joe as he raced around the apartment. I remember Joe reading. Thankfully, I remember laying Levi down in his bed, thinking "I'll see you around 4pm!" But everything is mixed up and mashed. No clear order to the memories, just knowledge that they happened.

I can assure you, for me, nothing is more fearful than the "wake up" and knowing children were in the mix. Where's Judah? Where's Levi? Is Levi okay? Is Judah okay? Then ask again for assurance. Maybe a third time. Then shed tears of joy that they are safe, and then tears of fear that they needed to be safe from me. I remember when we were in the hospital with Judah, he was just 2 or 3 days old when I had a bad low. I "woke up" eating and sitting in the bed and very unsure of my surroundings. I knew Judah was mine, but I didn't remember the c-section. So I eyed him with fear thinking, "they are entrusting this little man to me?! I'm not even sure he's mine!" When Judah was 2, I "woke up" with Judah and Joe at my bedside, Joe having given me sugar during my low. They walked me downstairs to the dining room table to eat something, Judah holding my hand tight. I eyed him then too, thinking, "he's mine?" I cannot explain how fearful it is to realize you have children, and you just had a low black out. You want to check on them every few minutes afterwards to be sure they've survived YOUR low. And then praise God they're alive.

That said, I have never been alone when any of this happens. Someone (normally Joe) has always ALWAYS been there. God foreordained that in my incredible weakness, my husband would be there, before we had kids and now that we have 2. My least favorite non-Joe rescue was Costco, pre-children. I ran to get a few things and could feel myself going low while pushing the cart around. I decided I could make it, buy a soda, sit for a bit to regain myself, and be fine. But the Lord humbled me greatly by sitting me down mid-isle, so close to being done, and had me sobbing to a random woman, "really... I'm okay... I'm diabetic... I need a soda or sugar please." She ran for the manager (either believing my story or thinking me drunk), and by God's grace his daughter was diabetic and he knew just what to do. It took me 2 months before I set foot in that Costco again I was so embarrassed. But in my shame, I am humbled and beyond grateful never to be alone. Other than that time, lows for me normally swoop in like a bat in the night, unseen and unheard, just waiting and lurking around the corner. There's a reason why my doctor in KS highly recommended a glucose sensor for me, that my insurance here in PA doesn't allow. I don't feel my lows til I'm ridiculously low, like low 50s, 40s, sometimes an unlucky 30 something (to give you an idea, I'm supposed to be between 70-120). I remember being 29 once and talking to Joe like nothing happened, never blacking out, never feeling it until I noticed my vision was blurred slightly. Even now, coming up from a low, my vision is blurred slightly. Within the past year, double vision and going cross-eyed has been a fun new symptom for me. Praise the Lord for a clear outward sign that my husband can see.

I apologize for the rant (that's what blogs are for right?). I just wanted to give those who don't know about diabetes a "taste" of lows. Because my blood sugars have been so tightly controlled, I can feel a high blood sugar when I'm just 150 or 170. So for me, lows have always been more dangerous. Like I said, they just kind of come out of... wherever they come from.

Refocus...

Often when I feel I'm veering off track, I refocus with strict black and white lines. I'm harsh on what I do and have a "take no prisoners" attitude. Burn out from this kind of refocusing comes quickly. I fall back into bad habits with a sense of comfort in mind, and I drift to the wayside once more.

As we prepare for the birth of our second son, I'm realizing what I haven't been doing with our first. God calls me to train Judah up in His ways (Eph. 6:4). To teach him diligently and talk with him about the matters of God daily (Deut 4:6-7). Lately, I've had a good day if I was consistent with him in discipline, not even getting close to in depth conversations. I find it hard to focus on Christ in my daily grind. Instead, my mind is churning out the next to-do, what needs to get done each day, and how I can incorporate some fun for Judah a midst it all. But where's my focus? I'm Martha in the kitchen and not Mary at Jesus' feet (Luke 10:38-42). But I can't stop what I'm doing. I can't push aside all dishes and laundry, letting the house and child my husband entrusted to me while he's in class become buried and neglected. How can I change my focus to a Christ-centered life without throwing the toddler out with the bathwater?

The Proverbs 31 woman (found in Proverbs 31:10-31) does it all. She's a diligent worker for her household. She's praised by her husband and children. She's intelligent, frugal (but generous), and careful (but not unwilling to stick her neck out). But why is she all these things? What is her foundation that causes her to be fruitful in all she does? "Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised" (vrs. 30). She fears God. She is generous because she knows God has given her much and calls her to give of herself to others. She's wise with her possessions and household because God calls her to good stewardship. She doesn't worry about the future because she trusts in the Lord to care for her and her family. She is the focused housewife, and she is called a rare jewel because of it.

In my mind, she does it all without stopping idly because she's focused on God DURING it all. For example, I wash dishes 3+ times a day. Takes me 10 minutes or less (depending on the meal). What if, instead of idly letting my mind wander or even letting it complain about the chore, I sang psalms? What if while I ironed instead of grumpily thinking Joe wears too many button-down oxfords, I thought over that week's sermon? What if while I went up and down the steep basement stairs doing laundry I reminded myself of memory verses that remind my heart of the reason I should have joy in suffering? When I go to my bi-weekly NST's (non-stress tests/aka fetal monitoring) what if I prayed in the car or in the recliner they put me in? My heart would be ready. It would be guarded and at peace when times of trial come. And I would continue to work, to enjoy time with Judah (and soon his brother too!), and still run a tight ship. I would be ready with verses when loved ones ask for counsel. I wouldn't feel like an impostor when I come to bible study seemingly steeped in the Word when really I just worked on it yesterday. My worn bible would be a little more lovingly worn and my Psalter would stop looking new and have water-stains on it from being too close to the sink when I was washing dishes. Judah would understand a bit more as he grows what makes mommy tick instead of me assuming he understands it all.

This kind of refocusing is joyful, and doesn't burn out quick like a firecracker. It doesn't leave room for guilt because I didn't get my 10 minutes with God today cause I chose to do laundry during naptime. God is eternally with me. I can't just come to Him whenever I feel like it because God is EVERYWHERE at ALL TIMES. I can't place Him in a keepsake box and take Him out when I have time and put Him back in when I'm done so I can work. He is in my work. He is in my actions. When I call myself a Christian, I am an ambassador for the Lord in ALL that I do, even if I don't leave the house that day. So, I need to refocus, but not in a harsh legalistic way. This refocusing is one that lets God seep into all matters of my life, so that like a tree by the river I am fruitful because I fear and trust in the Lord (Psalm 1:3).

Adventuresome Cooking...

I'll preface quickly with the fact that I'm not a "foodie", a "gourmet", or any other fancy name for loving cooking and wishing I could do it all day. In fact, when it comes to cooking, I'm often staring at my full fridge thinking I can't make anything. Baking on the other hand... Baking I always have the time, energy, and ingredients for.

But this summer, I decided I needed to change my mindset. Our family, at this point in life, eats 3 meals a day together. That's correct: breakfast, lunch, and dinner are had around our table, situated in the corner of our kitchen, everyday. Our son is 2, so we don't have sports or lesson schedules to compete with. We have a hot breakfast (except Sundays when we eat cereal), normally a small lunch of sandwich/raw veggie/fruit, and then a hot dinner that mommy tries not to start making past 4:30pm so it can be ready by 5:30 or 6pm. That's our life at the moment. So instead of grumbling, this summer I took action.

We spent the summer away from home at an internship, and I came with my Betty Crocker cookbook in tow. The one that I received 5 years ago from my sister at our wedding and now has pages glued together from use. But really, only in the baking sections. I came determined. This summer, I spent each week planning meals. Looking for things I've never tried or made before. I'll admit, the resident 2 year old missed the tried and true things (which we still enjoyed occasionally). But my goal was to open up my repertoire of cooking from a few pages containing mainly simple Italian, slightly Asian, and American dishes to Moroccan, Italy that we've never had before, French, etc. Things that would take thinking to do when we were at the grocery store, and a little more prep. I'm not talking about spending the day in the kitchen (cause what mom, or non-chef can do that?). I'm just talking about spending a bit more time consciously thinking about dinner. That was my goal.

Since coming back home, I'm less afraid of random vegetables I see on sale that I've never cooked before. I understand what meats work better with what meal. I better comprehend how to mix and match multiple Nationalities into one meal. I became adventuresome. And in the midst of this, I've come to appreciate cooking more, feel more comfortable doing it, and I even think Judah likes all of mommy's "dishshush" dinners. Who knew American 2 year olds could like spicy food (he has a special place in his heart for all things curried)?

So I invite you to share your adventuresome side! What are your recent discoveries that are now a family favorite (like butternut squash has become for our family)?

My Testimony...

“Now he had not run far from his own door, but his wife and children, perceiving it, began to cry after him to return; but the Man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying 'Life! Life! Eternal Life!' So he looked not behind him, but fled...”-Pilgrim's Progress

When I am blessed to hear the testimony of how others came to Christ, many times they begin, “It wasn't this big 'A ha!' moment.” Almost immediately I think, “Mine was.” It was like an orchestra quietly building momentum until they broke forth in beautiful harmonic release. Often when describing it to others, I'll say, “Every thing was muddy and contradictory, and suddenly it became black and white with clarity.” As time has past, my mind has filled with clouded memories of tears shed when God was asking my life of me and asking me to completely trust in Christ, but at the same time feeling incredible joy that He did ask it of me.

I grew up within a loving Roman Catholic family. I was put into the best of schools, and sent off to college like my siblings. But something was always missing. I would try to occasionally read the Bible, but it didn't make sense. I would end up pulling out random verses that seemed to fit together and read only of God's love; never His wrath. High school had been a difficult, rebellious time, and only at the end of it did I see where my sins had led me. College was a time to try again, to pull up my boot-straps and be a better daughter. For a moment, I thought about becoming a nun. Instead, I got over-involved in student government, delightfully drowned in my school books, justified the occasional uncomfortably crowded party as “the college experience”, and was determined that I could do anything. “The way of the fool is right in his own eyes...” (Proverbs 12:15) or in this case, her own eyes. But the Lord was (and is) good to mercifully humble me, showing me my error and what was true.

I met Joe Allyn at the age of 20. I was a sophomore at the University of Missouri-Columbia, and he was a senior. At the time, I had been going to evening mass on Sundays on and off, dependent on my workload. Looking back, I was comfortably stuck in my sins. On my list of things to do, time with God wasn't even on the radar, and late nights procrastinating on papers with friends was common. As Joe and I began to get to know one another, he began inviting me to Reformed University Fellowship (RUF, a campus ministry of the PCA). He was cute. I thought I'd give it a try. He even lent me a Bible since my own Catholic Youth Bible sat in my parents' home gathering dust. At first, I didn't know what to think. If what the RUF campus minister preached was true, I didn't really know what Christ did for me at all. I was trying to build my own way to heaven, when Christ had already done it for me. Those first few months, I had so many questions. I turned to my uncle, a Roman Catholic priest, for answers, but all I received back was things akin to “The Catholic church is the only way.” But what about Christ? He said Himself, “I am THE way, THE truth, THE life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6, emphasis mine). And God says in the 10 commandments, “You shall have no other gods before me,” At that time in my life, what was Mary, the mother of Jesus, to me? I had placed her in Jesus' place as eternal mediator and was asking her to ask her Son to ask His Father to answer my prayers. The same with various 'Saints'. I met Joe in October of 2005 and by March of 2006, I felt like my world was unraveling.

I knew in my heart that God was calling me to put my faith in Christ alone and become a Christian. Often I'd find myself crying on Joe's shoulder about the pain that I would cause my family, especially my parents, if I left Catholicism. At the same time I was so joyful that God was opening my eyes to His truth. Joe was patient. Sundays were now days of research, going with Joe to his church for morning service and going to mass at night. We'd sit down late Sunday night and talk about the differences, pulling out Scripture to see what God said about His desire for His worship. Slowly, like a building orchestra, these things gained momentum. I asked my parents if I could go to Memphis, TN for spring break with RUF for a mission trip within the inner-city. That trip, in so many ways, solidified two things for me. That working for Christ and God's kingdom was the way I wanted to live, and that I loved Joseph Charles Allyn. He felt the same, so much so that he yelled it off the roof top of Memphis' Historic Peabody Hotel. I came home from that trip so overjoyed, but again, I was humbled by the trials that laid ahead of me.

After working with an inner-city couple on their roach infested kitchen that was rotting away, coming home to luxury felt wrong. Not giving up comforts for the sake of others felt wrong. Everything felt... wrong. God was working in my heart, preparing me for the road that lay ahead. When I came home I searched the Scriptures for everything I had been taught, and only a portion was there. I remember around Easter time, talking with my friends about Veronica, the woman who wiped Jesus' face during the journey to Golgotha. My friend Sarah blankly said, “Who?”

“Veronica. You know that lady who came out of the crowd and wiped Jesus' face. And in return He left an imprint of His image on it.”

“What gospel is that in?”

“I don't know. Let's look!” And as we paged through the 4 gospels' intertwining tale of Christ's crucifixion, I looked and couldn't find Veronica. Later that day, I looked it up online to search the Bible for Veronica, but only to find there were no women with that name in God's Holy Word. It continued like that with many things. With Mary, with various 'Saints' (like Mary's mother, Anne and the supposed immaculate conception), with stories that I was told in school. At first, it was heart-breaking, but then I grew more and more hungry for what God's Word DID say.

That May I went on the RUF summer conference trip down to the sunny pan-handle of Florida's beaches. Joe wasn't going, so it was healthy time to be apart and time for me to grow in Christ with the women I was with. God used the waves of the gulf to wash over me, calming my anxieties. He gave me a week of good preaching and teaching to learn what He desired of me. Then, the moment I consider my “A ha!” moment happened. One night we were singing the hymn “On Jordan's Stormy Banks” (by Samuel Stennett) and everything just clicked with the chorus: I am bound, I am bound, I am bound for the promised land. Wait... What? I am bound for the promised land? My mind raced with the implications. If Christ died so that I may have life, if I profess with my mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in my heart that He is risen and reigning... If I'm not working my way to heaven because Christ already paved the way for me... then I AM bound for the promised land! I asked my friend Allie afterward if this was true. “Are we really bound for the promised land?” She looked at me with questioning eyes like, “yeah, Maggie.” The free offer of the gospel seemed too good to be true. I called Joe and asked him, too, and shouting excitedly to him over the phone “I am bound for the promised land!” Looking out that night over the vast ocean, with crashing waves, endless starry skies, and seemingly endless warm beaches, I could do nothing but weep silently for joy and praise God for what He had shown me. God had removed my heart of stone and had given me a heart of flesh, washed in the blood of Christ.

The next morning I called my mom and told her I was a Christian. I don't remember everything from that conversation, but I remember that it was difficult. I think I understand my mom's side better now that we have a son, as the child that she lovingly raised denounced what she taught her. It was rough for both of us. I then officially joined Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Columbia, MO, and my life continued to change dramatically. I was more aware of my surroundings, what people were doing, what some were asking of me, what I often would allow and could never again. By calling myself a Christian, I was a daughter of the living God, an ambassador to my friends and family. My life needed to change, and by God's grace and mercy, it did.

Since then, Joe and I got married (June 30, 2007). We had our son Judah Knox 3 years later, which was by God's grace and mercy. I've had diabetes since I was 2 ½, and having a child isn't something many diabetics even think about because of the risks of birth defects. But God is so good and so merciful because in April of 2010 our first son was born to us, beautiful and healthy. Since that day on the beach, I've learned so much. Too much to share in a small article. Most days I sit stunned at how God is working and can't help but praise Him. Other days I wonder what He's doing, but take comfort in knowing that God's working all things for His glory and our good. One of those days was when I moved to Shawnee, KS to join my new husband, and after going through a list of PCA churches, began attending a RPCNA church that became home to us. The people there became our family, or “church family” as we lovingly call them. Although we had the joy of worshipping and serving among them, they blessed us beyond measure. As we came to know the congregation there and took to heart the distinctives of the RPCNA, it felt like the differences between my family and I only continued to grow. But like I did as I sat crying in Joe's dorm fearful of the pain I may cause, I found comfort in Jesus' words found in Matthew:

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a person's enemies will be those of his own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:34-39).

I don't hate my family and friends by any means, but I love Christ more. I ran like Christian in Pilgrim's Progress, fleeing and crying out “Life! Life! Eternal Life!” Often I have prayed that my family and friends would run to the wicket gate with me, that they too would flee from a life outside of Christ and to the life that He's given me. My heart still aches for the apathy others have shown for what I have gained. Many have asked me, “Why? Isn't it easier to just do... whatever?” Yes. It is. But its not what He desires of me, nor what I desire. It's always easier to do the thing you've been doing since birth. But when you aren't of this world, and the world is trying to conform you to it's image; when Satan is using guilt trips against you to pull you down into the mire, that makes trying to do the right thing painful sometimes. It makes you feel shame for following Christ, shame for doing what God Almighty is asking of you. I think of my first Easter after I accepted Christ alone as my Lord and Savior. Joe and I came home to attend Friday night services with my parents. There was a general call for people to come up and kiss “Jesus' feet” (in other words the feet of a statue of Christ crucified). As my parents went up, I stayed in the pew watching them. While I was silently crying and praying that my parents wouldn't go and kiss an idol's feet, my mom was silently crying that I didn't go with them. My heart cries out during these times, “How long O Lord? I don't think my feet can run this race much longer.” But the Father, in His loving patience, gives me strength. He comforts, and takes the shame away with His promises. His Word is the greatest comfort. But then I look at those I left behind and still wonder, “How long O Lord? How long until they join me in Your courts?” For I long for the day when my friends and family would join me in the joy of the gospel.

Yes. It is easier to do what is... well... easy. But Christ gave His life so that I could live. Why would I want to give Him anything less that all of me?

God is working mightily in our small family. Joe is in seminary at RPTS now, and I delight in serving him in this new capacity. God has stretch me in so many way in the past few years. We've moved 3 times since we were married, which doesn't sound like a lot but equals out to once per year (minus one). I was prepared for our most recent move to Pittsburgh to be the most difficult, being so far away from family and friends. But God has taught me that no matter where we are in the world, there are brothers and sisters in Christ. The changeover to Pittsburgh has been so easy. Joe loves classes, and I love getting to know the other women and sitting in on a few classes. Transitioning so quickly and loving where God has us just confirms that we are where we need to be. As God continues to grow me and stretch me in ways I never dreamed, I can't be anything but grateful. Yes, often I think “How long O Lord?” But how does Psalm 13 end? “But I have trusted in Your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, because He has dealt bountifully with me.” So bountifully.

-Published in the Reformed Presbyterian Witness January 2012

Allowing Chivalry...

Sometimes, I think in Facebook status form. In seriousness, I word and reword what I plan to post on Facebook (which most of the time never gets posted cause I'm no where near a phone or computer). The other day I was thinking pointedly about how to word one such "post": I fully understand that people are trying to help me at times, but sometimes I feel like shouting "I'm able!" I caught myself as I was thinking this one over and realized what I was doing. I was being ungrateful for help where it probably looks like I need help, and in the instance I was alluding to in that "status" I was not allowing leadership and chivalry to happen. In other words, I was being dismissive instead of submissive.

In that event, I had two bags of books to take back to the library, my own diaper bag flung onto my back messenger bag style, and was carrying Judah like a football down the stairs from our apartment. The normal day, in my opinion. A kind gentleman, seeing this, hurried to grab something of my troubles. Trying to hurry, I just kept saying "Just the door please! Please, just the door!" knowing that once I got outside, I could put Judah down and hold his hand and be okay with the load. At first he didn't understand, making the moment with all the stuff longer and me more frustrated as I again said, "I'm okay! But if you could open the door that would be wonderful!" And as planned, the door opened, Judah was down, and I was on my way with thanks to the gentleman. My first reaction was frustration. I do this kind of stuff everyday. I'm a stay-at-home wife and mother and I just assume it comes with the territory. Another time, I had been getting my keys out of my diaper bag, watching Judah out of the corner of my eye, and balancing a large box of groceries between myself and the door frame. Again, another kind person hurried to help me, and yet my response was "No, please don't move it! If you move it, it will fall!" instead of accepting help. I'm always frustrating when these things happened, wanting to say, "I am able! Leave me be!"

But as I thought on moments like these, I noticed a trend. One that I think super-moms everywhere are probably teaching their daughters: self-reliance. This isn't bad in all cases. We need self-reliance to go off to college, or school in general. To be able to function without constant help and supervision. But in my case, and maybe the case of many out there, I'm purposefully refusing to be called weak. I am relying on self, and not God. On self, and not the help that He provides for me. I then took it a step further in my thoughts. In both instances, I was refusing help from men as if to say "Just because I'm a woman doesn't make me disabled." As I'm teaching Judah to help elderly friends, be gentle with other children (babies especially), and to show other adults the respect they are due. As I'm training him to (Lord willing) be a godly man who is chivalrous in holding doors for women and being helpful, I see that it's most likely one day that a woman (maybe even his wife) will refuse help because she doesn't want to be considered weak. Once is fine, that a young man can brush off as someone having a bad day. But if every woman he comes in contact with has the same "superwoman" complex, what is that teaching the child who I desire to be a leader in his family? Nothing other than women don't need my help. So why offer it.

I know this may sound harsh, and I don't mean it to be! But I do worry about women in today's society losing their femininity. I'm not saying you can't be a tomboy. I was a tomboy growing up, and I still enjoy getting my hands dirty and doing hard labor when there's work to do. I'm saying that today's women, myself included, are sadly losing the biblical view of being a woman and therefore causing men to lose the way that they are meant to pursue.

To start at the beginning, "God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them" (Genesis 1:27). God didn't create just Adam in His image, Eve was created in God's image as well. Being created in His image, we are called to bring glory to His name no matter what we are doing (1 Corinthians 10:31). Yes, we are to work hard and not be idle, twiddling our fingers and eating bon bons (as a dear friend says) while others labor for us. The Proverbs 31 woman (Proverbs 31:10 to the end of the chapter) is a fine example of what a godly woman looks like. But she doesn't do it all so that people can tell her "Wow! You did all that? YOU are incredible!" She does it because she loves and fears the Lord. Because of this true love and healthy fear, her family flourishes. Her husband can trust her. But note, he doesn't figure she's on her own. As a godly man, also made in the image of God, he as the leader of the family entrusts things to her.

In a normal household, it is hard to do dishes, laundry, clean up, cook, and all those things with a toddler running around. But Joe, the leader of our family and my head, entrusts these things to me while he is away at school. He's not playing either, sitting idly by. He is working for our family to provide means for us. He lovingly, knowing my abilities and not giving me tasks I am completely unable to do, delegated domestic engineering (my favorite terminology for housewife stuff) to me knowing that our home will prosper. He trusts me. And I, being his wife, am called to submit to his leadership. "Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is head of the wife, as also Christ is head of the church; and He is the Savior of the body. Therefore, just as the church is subject to Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything." (Ephesians 5:22-24). I've heard this verse taken in a variety of distorted ways, but to quote another friend "She's not called to be your doormat, guys." Think about it ladies. The following verses talk about how husbands are called to love their wives as Christ loved the church, sacrificially. That they are to love their wives as they love their own body, nurturing her and helping her walk in the Way. As husbands strive to do this, to love us like that, shouldn't it be easy to submit? I think submission usually has a negative connotation in today's world, as if your giving up a part of yourself and saying "Fine. Take it." No... that is not how God intended it in a marriage. I give this illustration to many: Joe and I took ballroom dancing lessons way before we were pregnant with Judah. It was a wonderful time to feel elegant and have my husband lead me on the dance floor. But the thing I noticed most of all was the trend in couples that were having a hard time learning the steps. It was beyond "two left feet". The couples having trouble were struggling because the wife was leading when she should be swept off her feet and twirled around the floor. Women who led found themselves frustrated with their husbands and his inabilities to do something, even though she was the one preventing the flow to happen. Even in non-Christian couples, when the wives submitted to their husbands lead danced beautifully around the room and found ease in each new step we learned. For those who wouldn't allow it, you knew it wasn't much different at home than on the dance floor.

So, made in God's image, if we are married, we are called to lovingly and willingly submit to our husbands. The next command is for husbands, but I'll explain my thinking after, "Husbands, likewise, dwell with them with understanding, giving honor to the wife, as to the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life, that your prayers may not be hindered" (1 Peter 3:7). That doesn't mean she can't lift a finger, or that she is unable to be entrusted with anything for she is "weak". Note what is said before and after the weaker vessel part: "giving honor to the wife....being heirs TOGETHER of the grace of life..." (emphasis mine). Again, I realize this command is for men, but think on it ladies. We are called, and rightfully so, the weaker vessel. Again, this doesn't mean we are incapable of doing anything. I know a number of women who've given birth naturally, and that is not a sign of weakness. But as the curse from Genesis 3:16, we desire the position of our husband. We desire to be the leader of the family, that we can do something (or everything) better. That we, who no matter how self-acclaim devoid of emotion, are emotional (not always in a bad way), sensitive, soft creatures. Weak, in other words. Men are called to protect and respect us. To love us as Christ loves His church. And if we are attempting to get a roast out of the oven, keep the toddler away, not burn the sauteed veggies, and tell our husbands happily (while inside thinking daggers), "O no, babe, it's okay. You can go lay down," we're lying to ourselves. And simply, we're not allowing our husbands, or the men around us, to do what they are born and called to do: lead. Yes, Eve was made to be Adam's helper. But who probably helped Eve birth Cane, Abel, Seth, and whoever else was born to them? Who built the boat to save his family and the animals God preordained to ride on the Ark? Who was called to be our Redeemer and Savior? All men. Granted, the last one was Christ, who was both God and man, but still.

As men and women, we are called together to work as one body in Christ. Especially in a marriage, but this applies to our relationships all around us too. If we as women are trying to raise our sons to be godly chivalrous men and at the same time are pushing and shoving to show "We can do it ourselves!" What are we doing?