Be the Person God Made You to Be

muddy boysBoys are different from girls.
Don’t worry; I’ve known this for a long time—at least in terms of physical differences. But never have I had the invisible differences between the genders demonstrated so clearly as this past weekend, when I took my son and two of his friends to Legoland for his birthday.
The three boys chose to sit in the back seat of our minivan so they could all be together. I, as the driver, was too far away to be part of the conversation. That was fine with me. I got a kick out of just listening to them.
Here are the things I learned from my eavesdropping:
1. 11-year-old boys are every bit as loud as 11-year-old girls.
2. The decibel level, however, won’t consist primarily of whispering and giggles, but rather of random, questionable noises and frequent usages of the word “butt.”
3.  On the other hand, there will be plenty of giggles when someone says the aforementioned “butt” or refers to any other bodily function you wouldn’t want to perform in polite company.
Boys and girls are very different.
This presents somewhat of a problem for Kenny. His siblings who are closest to him in age are all girls.  And what Kenny thinks is hilarious, they often consider to be rude or gross. (“Mommy, make Kenny stop!”) So what’s a boy to do? At least he has three-year-old Timmy, who thinks all that stuff is hilarious. But still, I’m sure it must be nice for Kenny to be around same-age peers who share his sense of humor.
So what’s the point? That if you want to hang out with 11-year-old boys, you better be prepared for humor that makes you think, “Huh?” or “Eeww”? Well, yeah, that too. But the main point is this: Just as boys and girls are different by (God’s) design, you and I are different, as well. Yes, we’re both women and moms. We may both be wives, and we may both be die-hard Cubs fans (which takes a special kind of emotional stamina, ha ha). 
But still, we’re different.
And that’s okay. Because that’s the way God designed us to be.
He wants us to be different. He delights in our differences. He doesn’t want millions of Beth Moores or Ruth Bell Grahams or Sandi Pattys. He wants me, and He wants you.
You may do your makeup every day, dress stylishly, and have your hair cut and highlighted at a salon. Great. I don’t do any of those things. But that’s equally great.
I may know how to speak or read 4 languages, play the piano, and enjoy public speaking. Good. Perhaps none of these traits describes you. Equally good.
One of the saddest things in the world is when you see a woman squelching or denying who she was created to be, just because she thinks it would be better if she were more like someone else. When she does this—when you do this, when I do this—the world misses out on enjoying the unique person God had created in her. Worse yet, it misses out on seeing His creativity reflected just as He had intended it to be reflected in her life.
And she herself spends her life miserable, if she’s honest, because she’s trying to force herself into a mold that’s “better” than what God had planned for her.
Yes, if there’s something you truly need to do better or differently (in other words, if God says so), then by all means, repent or change. But if you’re just trying to be like someone else, stop! It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re like your mother, your sister, your best friend, or some famous person. God doesn’t care at all.
You see, it really doesn’t matter whether or not you’re “as good as” someone else. What matters is whether you reflect the image of Jesus.
And that’s something you can best do not only by clinging to Him, but by being whom He made you to be.
1 Samuel 16:7—The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart. (NIV)

Who You Really Are

268/365 - Default StateYou can learn a lot from not knowing anything about science.

Let me explain.

The other day, Kenny asked me whether a “space storm” was the same thing as a black hole. Not knowing what a space storm was, I asked him, “What is a space storm?”

“Well,” Kenny said, “it does such-and-such.”

“No, not what does it do, but what is it?” I asked.

Again, Kenny tried to answer by telling me the things that happened within a space storm.

“Kenny,” I said, “What is it composed of? What is its essence?”

“Hmm,” Kenny said. “Well…I don’t know.”

I don’t blame him. It’s much harder to define a thing’s essence than it is to discuss what the thing does.

Could you do it in regards to your own essence? Could you describe yourself, apart from anyone you know, anything you own, or anything you do?

There are many reasons why we sometimes get confused as to who we really are. Past sins can seem to define us, because we can’t forget them. I’m the person who….

Present occupations or roles in life seem like they are perfectly adequate for classifying us. I’m a student. I’m a lawyer. I’m a mom.

Or maybe it’s what we own that imparts to us an identity. I’m rich. Or our talents. I’m a singer. Or our physical attributes. I’m pretty.

All of these things may be true. We all have sins in our past. We all have roles in the present. And we all have adjectives that describe us.

But none of those things is who we are.

What, then, is our identity?

My friend, if you are “in Christ”—in other words, if you have a personal relationship with Jesus—here is your identity:

You are clean (John 15:3). “Liar” or “adulteress” or “drug user” is not your identity.

You are healed (Isaiah 53:5). “Wounded” is not your identity.

You are chosen (Colossians 3:12). “Unwanted” is not your identity.

You are a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17). You are no longer who you used to be.

You are capable (Philippians 4:13). “Not good enough” is not your identity.

You are powerful where once you were weak (2 Corinthians 12:10). “Helpless” or “ineffective” is not your identity.

You are victorious (1 Corinthians 15:57). “Loser” is not your identity.

May I offer you a few more?

You are Christ’s friend (John 15:15). You are complete (Colossians 2:10). You are a daughter of light (1 Thessalonians 5:5), anointed by God (1 John 2:27), and a joint heir with Christ to all God’s riches (Romans 8:17). You have the right to come boldly before the throne of God to find mercy and grace in your time of need (Hebrews 4:16).

Let no earthly thing define you—not what you’ve done, not what others say you are, not whom you know or what talents you possess.

You are far more than any of these things.

You are who God says you are.

Can You Be Jealous Fairly?

envyWhy does she get to be so beautiful?

Why does she get to have such a nice house/car/husband?

Why does she get to be so talented/popular?

We’ve all wondered why that one certain person seems to have everything going for her, while our own life is falling apart. We’ve asked ourselves—or asked others, or complained to God—about why people who don’t seem to deserve it get “all” the blessings.

Why not me? is what we really want to know. Why don’t I get that?

It’s tough to see someone else getting the things we desire. The things we put all our energies towards, but can’t seem to attain. What about me? our heart cries. Why not me?

We’re jealous.

We don’t like to admit that, because we know jealousy is a sin. We try to pretend we’re not jealous. We try to squash the jealousy down so we don’t have to confront it. We plaster smiles on our faces and pretend like it’s not eating at us.

But it is.

We become jealous (or its close cousin, resentful) because we want what others have.

Sometimes, that is. You see, we don’t always want what others have.

Here’s what I mean. We ask why someone else gets (fill in the blank here with the name of the thing we want). We never ask questions like these:

Why does she get to be only 53 years old and dying from ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease)?

Why does she get to bury her son, who is dead by his own hand?

Why does she get to live in a shelter, because her husband was abusing her and her children?

The questions at the top of the page are questions I have struggled with in the past. I’ve never asked myself the three questions above this paragraph.

All of these situations—ALS, a child’s suicide, and spousal abuse—are circumstances that friends of mine are currently facing. Yet I’ve never asked why I don’t get things like that.

We take blessings for granted, and we don’t spend much time being thankful for them. Instead, we ask why we don’t get the things we want.

But the real question is not, Why doesn’t God give me the things I want?

The real question should be, Why does God spare me from the terrible things I don’t want?

The first question leads to a sense of entitlement. The second leads to a deep, profound gratitude.

Why don’t I get some of the things I want? I don’t know, but this, I do know: I also don’t get some of the things I really don’t want. And those are the things that are more important.

A large, pretty house? Nice…but not as big a blessing as my health.

Physical beauty? Nice…but not as big a deal as physical safety.

Being talented or popular? No comparison to having my children alive and here with me.

If you want to ask why you don’t have what someone else has, be fair about it: Ask that question in regards to everybody.

You will find that you are grateful that you don’t have what others have far more often than you are jealous.

Hebrews 13:5—Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (ESV)

Story Lines

handsFive years ago, as I was taking a shower, I reached for the shampoo.

It was an action I had taken thousands of times before, and which I’ve repeated thousands of times since. But that particular moment on that particular day became forever etched on my memory.

I reached for the plastic bottle, and for some reason, I looked at my hand. Really looked. And I thought, This is not the hand of a young woman.

I wasn’t what most people would consider old (I was 39). But no longer was I young. At least, not according to the lines I saw in the skin of my fingers and the back of my palm.

Once, I had been young enough that my skin was completely smooth, my hands unmarked by the passage of time.

Not anymore.

As I stood there in the shower contemplating the changes in my hands wrought by time, I began to consider the changes in the rest of my body, too, from the time I had been born, up until now.

For instance, there are two patches of skin that is slightly lighter than the rest of my skin. One patch is on the top of my right ankle, in the bend between my foot and leg. The other is on my right knee. Both are there because when I was a child, I kept falling and skinning my knee and ankle, so many times that the skin became forever changed.

These changes tell a part of my story.

So do the sagginess of my tummy and my C-section scar. They tell about the carrying and birthing of 5 children.

The calluses on the soles of my feet bear witness to all the places my feet have taken me, from Australia to the World Trade Center, to hospital rooms and funeral homes, to parties and celebrations, libraries and grocery stores and the Playland at McDonald’s.

The increasing number of gray hairs in among the brown ones makes the point that I have lived long enough to have gray hairs.

The lines in my hands are there not only because I’m growing older, but because my hands have done so many things: tended sick children, typed emails or books or papers, held and swung a racquetball racquet, played the piano, fixed innumerable PB&J’s, gripped a steering wheel, changed diapers.

My increasing lack of flexibility (I used to be able to do the splits) reveals not only that I’m aging, but that I don’t often have time to exercise as I’d like to.

The texture of the skin on my face, if you look really closely, will tell you about the times I struggled with acne.

Some of the freckles on my back and shoulders are there because of sunburns I got in the midst of having wonderful fun.

None of these things is an imperfection, or something to be despised; all are simply results of the way my body has changed as it has told my story.

The Apostle Paul wrote, “I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus” (see Galatians 6:17). I realize that the context is different; he was talking about the abuse he’d suffered for Jesus’ sake. But the marks on my body testify of Jesus, too. They display His creativity and goodness in ordering my days. They tell my story, which is really His story. His plan. His design.

I anticipate more changes as I age, and that’s okay. I don’t regret the way anything has changed so far. And while I don’t exactly look forward to my hearing or eyesight declining, or my energy fading, I do anticipate the way that even these things will reflect the life God has planned for me.

And I look forward to the day when, by God’s grace, I will sit with my grandchildren at my feet, and I’ll say, “Do you see these wrinkles? Let me tell you what they represent—the beautiful story of how God brought them to be.”

My hands may no longer be the hands of a young woman. But they are my hands.

They are my story.

Proverbs 20:29—The glory of young men is their strength, gray hair the splendor of the old. (NIV)

Dreaming Big

MountainThe other day, I was sitting at the computer when Timmy came into the room. “Do you want to sit on my lap?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” Timmy said as I helped him climb up. “I’m a mountain.”

“Okay, Mr. Mountain,” I said.

“Actually, I think I’m a bear,” Timmy said.

“Okay,” I said. (We’re flexible around here.)

“Or a dragon. Yeah. Mr. Dragon.”

I love how kids can pretend to be something else. Only in their minds, they’re not just pretending—they really are that thing. As far as Timmy knew, he really could be a mountain for a little while. Or a bear. Or a dragon.

Yeah, a dragon.

Which makes me wonder…when did we adults lose our ability to believe that being something else is possible?

As we grow up, we become more practical, and we realize that we’re never actually going to be an Olympic gymnast, or an actress, or a singer. This process is actually good. We need to be realistic about the abilities God has placed within us. But just because some dreams won’t come true doesn’t mean that we should stop dreaming entirely. All we need to do is replace our dreams with better ones, dreams that God births in our hearts or guides us to envision.

Maybe it is still possible to become an artist. Maybe God wants to bless you in a new career. Maybe He’s willing and eager to help you learn a new language, or finish that degree.

Or maybe it’s none of those things. Maybe the dream God wants to flourish in your heart is the dream of becoming the mom you always knew you could be. Maybe conquering a particular fear or insecurity is what God has in store for you. Maybe experiencing true joy on a regular basis is the dream God wants to make reality.

You’ve probably had to give up some of your dreams somewhere along the way. But God only asks you to give them up so He can replace them with something better.

Because the best dream is not necessarily the one we start out with, or the one we develop for ourselves. The best dream, the most satisfying one, is the one God dreams for us, and helps us dream it too. And then helps us make it reality.

What dream does God want you to dream with Him?

Jeremiah 29:11—“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

What You Did for Jesus Today

mac n cheeseLet me just say right now that I’m not Martha Stewart. I can’t fold a napkin into the shape of anything (well, except a rotisserie chicken, but that’s another story), I don’t know how to arrange flowers, and my idea of a gourmet meal is when I not only prepare macaroni and cheese for my kids, but I also fix a vegetable to go with it.

But I served Jesus today.

I’m also not Michael Jordan (I’m definitely not talented at sports), Faith Hill (I sing well, but I could never make a living from it), or Bill Gates (I’m neither rich nor technologically astute).

But I served Jesus today.

I’m not Billy Graham. I don’t draw tens of thousands to a stadium (and millions more on television) to hear me speak. I will never have as much influence on the world as Billy Graham does.

But I, too, served Jesus today.

Today, I made sure Jesus had clean clothes to wear and a nice, filling breakfast to eat. I laughed with Him and played games with Him. I drove Him where He needed to go. I showed Him kindness, patience, and respect.

How did I do all these things, since we know that Jesus has ascended to heaven, where He sits on the right hand of the Father (see Acts 2:33)? It’s not like He’s down here bodily for me to do these things to and for Him.

Or…is it?

One of the most precious passages in all of Scripture involves Jesus telling His followers that whatever kindnesses or acts of service they showed to other human beings, they showed to Him (see Matthew 25). In other words, Jesus is saying (if I may paraphrase), “Whatever you do for another human being, you do for Me. It’s not just that I appreciate what you’ve done, but that I take it personally.”

Every time I consider Jesus’ incredible words, I’m blown away. Do You really mean that when I changed that diaper, cuddled that child, or read that story for the umpteenth time, I did those things for You? That you took it so personally, it was as if You were the one sitting here next to me while I read to You?

Of course he meant it. Jesus never says things He doesn’t mean.

The implications are mind-blowing. They lift the sometimes humdrum, routine life of a mom from seeming insignificance (at least in the world’s eyes) to a position of incredible glory.

Even Billy Graham, as much as he loves the Lord and as public a ministry as he has, is no greater a servant of Jesus than a mom who also loves Jesus and spends her days taking care of Him through her hands-on ministry to her children.

Did you ever think of it that way? That you have as incredible a ministry as Billy Graham does? Or as any Christian author who’s sold billions of books, or Christian recording artist who fills stadiums with people who want to hear his or her worship music?

That’s because the greatness of your ministry doesn’t depend on the world’s opinion of its significance. You serve Jesus Himself all day long, in some life-sustaining and very physical ways.

Stop and make a list right now (either on paper or in your head) of all the things you have done for Jesus today. Have you cooked for Him? Tended to His medical needs? Educated Him, academically or spiritually? Given Him a bath? Helped Him get dressed? Celebrated with Him?

Others may have served Him in more public ways today. But no one served Him more directly or intimately.

The following is a poem I wrote several years ago (back when I had two children instead of the five I now have) reflecting what Jesus showed me about serving Him. I pray that God will use it to change your perspective as much as He changed mine.

Loving Jesus

I started my day early,
Before the room was light.
I lifted my son from his crib
And wished it was still night.
But as I held him close and said,
“Hi, Kenneth, precious one,”
I knew that as I greeted him,
I greeted too God’s Son.

When my daughter woke up later,
Calling, “Mommy! Mommy! Down!”
I picked her up and hugged her
In her worn Elmo nightgown.
I know she felt the closeness
That a mother’s touch affords.
I welcomed not just Ellie,
But so, too, the Lord of Lords.

That day, I mixed some formula
And opened jars of peas.
I fixed some “pizza butter” bread
When she grinned and said, “Pleeeeease.”
I heated up some leftovers;
I had to nuke them twice.
And when I fed my children,
I was feeding Jesus Christ.

I made some funny faces,
And “played puzzles” on the floor.
I dressed kitties, ran around outside,
And played with them some more.
We laughed and jumped and tickled,
Making memories to be stored.
When I spent time with my children,
I spent time with my Lord.

I wiped up sticky cereal
And washed the dishes clean.
I straightened, picked up, put away,
And dusted in between.
I did six loads of laundry
And folded it like new.
When I cleaned for my children,
I cleaned for my Savior, too.

When my children were both crying,
I held them in my arms.
I cuddled them and whispered
That I’d keep them safe from harm.
I told them how their Father saved them
With His perfect Lamb.
When I comforted my children,
I comforted I AM.

Later on that evening,
I put them in the bath.
I washed their little bodies
As they kicked around and splashed.
I dried them in soft towels
And put their jammies on.
When I had washed my children’s feet,
I’d washed the Holy One.

I cooked and cleaned and rearranged,
Made beds and taught and played.
I made sure that we had food to eat
And that we often prayed.
I died to self. I made a home
From ordinary things.
But when I served my children,
I served the King of Kings.

To some, I have done nothing,
But to two, I’ve done the world.
I made eternal difference
To my precious boy and girl,
And to the One who watches over
Every pathway that I’ve trod.
For when I’ve loved my precious children,
I’ve loved Almighty God.

Matt. 25:40—“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (NIV)

God Can Use You—No Matter Your Abilities

Betty Crocker CookbookI am not domestically inclined. Keeping house has never been my “thing.” The meals I put on the table are serviceable, but they’re certainly not gourmet. I buy my children’s clothes once they’ve been made by somebody else; the last garment I made was a pair of sweat pants, which I made in home economics in 8th grade (it was a required course), for which I got a C. My kids will never confuse me with Martha Stewart or Betty Crocker (that’s their grandmother).

I have dear friends whose highest education consists of obtaining a high school diploma. I have other precious friends who have a disability, while still others lack financial means.

In other words, some of the people I know well (including myself) have limited abilities or resources in an area of life that’s important or valued by the world.

You may feel that you’re a part of this group—that your limitations mean that you are “less than” in some way. And this may be true—for you, for me, for anyone—as far as the world is concerned.

But fortunately for all of us who experience limitations, God’s not concerned with what the world thinks of our abilities. In fact, He seems to specialize in choosing foolish and weak people even above the wise and strong (see 1 Corinthians 1:27). What He cares about is not how you measure up by the world’s standards, but whether your heart is fully devoted to Him.

Take, for example, Peter and John. Two of Jesus’ dearest friends, they weren’t well-educated. In fact, Peter was a fisherman—not an occupation for which he would have had to have the equivalent of a college degree. But when these two apostles stood before the rulers and elders of the Jews and testified to who Jesus was, and how He had healed a man, they astonished those who heard them.

Why? Because these educated leaders knew that Peter and John were uneducated. The ESV uses the word “common”. Peter and John were nobody special by the world’s standards. Yet they amazed all those who listened. And Scripture tells us that the only conclusion the leaders could draw was that in order for Peter and John to do what they did, they must have been with Jesus.

That’s the kind of person I want to be—a person who has obviously been with Jesus. I want people to be amazed not at my abilities but at what Jesus has done in my life. When people look at me, I want them to know I’ve been with the Lord; I don’t care whether or not they know how many degrees I have.

So yes, I’d love to be better at domestic things, especially since God has called me at this time in my life to be a homemaker and stay-at-home mom. But maybe the fact that I don’t have very much natural ability in this area allows Jesus to shine through me better and receive the glory for any successes I have in a way that wouldn’t be the case if I were naturally talented in homemaking.

The fact that your education stopped after high school, or that you have a disability, or that you lack finances, means nothing against you, but rather that Jesus has the opportunity to shine brighter through you than He would otherwise.

But here’s the catch—in order for Him to shine through us, we have to be with Him. The religious leaders knew that Peter and John had been with Jesus because He was shining through their lack of ability and education. This wouldn’t have been the case if they hadn’t been with Him.

Nor is it the case with us. In order for people to know that we’ve been with Jesus, we have to, well, be with Him. Sounds obvious, but often, we neglect the means of being with Him. We don’t have a regular devotional time. We don’t attend church regularly. We don’t pray, or seek Christian fellowship. Yes, His Spirit dwells in us if we’re Christians. But He won’t shine through if we’re not paying attention or making it a point to communicate with Him.

So don’t be down on yourself because of your inabilities. Instead of feeling “less than” because you believe you’re unskilled at something, look at your weaknesses as opportunities for people to know you’ve been with Jesus as He shines through you.

Be with Him—and He will, indeed, shine through.

Acts 4:13—Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus. (ESV)

Doing What You’re Good At

Pinterest cakeI don’t spend much time on Pinterest (as in, none). One reason is that Facebook already sucks up enough of my time; another reason is that I know myself well enough to know that rarely (if ever) would I actually carry out any of the wonderfully elaborate ideas I found there.

This is partly because I’m not gifted in terms of making perfect-decorated birthday cakes or elaborate entryways, and I don’t need another project that probably isn’t going to turn out like I want it to. It’s also partly because I prefer to do things simply (I’m just not a detail person).

If Pinterest is your thing, fine. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. It’s just not for me—which is also fine. It’s reasonable not to want to spend my time attempting things I’m not good at or not interested in.

What’s not fine, however, is if I fail to do the things I am good at and to make the best use of my abilities in those areas.

I may not be a Pinterest kind of gal, but I’m great at other things. You have things you’re great at, too. And God’s intention for both of us is that we use the abilities He’s given us to build up those we’re meant to serve.

There are several passages in Scripture that talk about how God has given each of us the gifts He chose for us. We’ve all received something, and God means for us to use it.

In the parable of the talents (see Matt. 25:14-30), a rich man going on a journey entrusts varying amounts of his money to each of three servants. Upon the rich man’s return, the man finds that the first two servants had used his money to make more money, and he is pleased. But the third servant had done nothing with his talent, instead hiding it in the ground and making no use of it whatsoever. This time, the master is not pleased at all.

What are the gifts and abilities God has given you? And what are you doing with them to benefit those around you, starting with your husband (if you’re married) and your children?

Maybe your talent is cooking. Are you purposely using it to benefit your family? I know you put food on the table when it’s mealtime. But have you thought of your cooking ability as a gift from God and asked Him to show you how you can offer the results of it to your family as a gift?

Maybe you can play the piano. Do you fill your home with music? Do you teach your kids to play (if they’re interested)? Do you make it a point to get your practice and playing-for-fun time in so that your family can be blessed by hearing you?

Or perhaps your talent is organizing things, or being patient, or thinking of fun things for your family to do, or reading stories out loud with funny or interesting character voices. Are you using your talent to bless your family?

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Sometimes, we don’t use our talents because we don’t realize we have them. If you’re not sure what your talents are, there are many ways you can find out. You can ask people who know you well and would be honest with you; you can take a spiritual gifts inventory; you can spend some time thinking about what you really enjoy doing; you can pray and ask God to show you. Whatever the way you go about it, if you doubt that you have talents, or think you probably do but don’t know what they are, find out. Make it a point to discover the special gifts and abilities God has put within you so that you can bless your family with them.

Other times, we don’t use our talents because we think they’re not much of a talent. We compare ourselves to others who have more “obvious” talents, such as the mom who can sing beautiful solos in church, and we conclude, “Well, my talent is really no big deal compared to that.” We couldn’t be more wrong! God doesn’t give gifts or talents that are junk. He gives them because they are special to Him, and He wants you to use them in the work of His kingdom. Just because someone else’s talent is more visible than yours, or just because your talent may have been belittled in the past, doesn’t mean that your talents are worthless. They aren’t! Would God give you only the abilities to do worthless things for His kingdom? Hardly!

Finally, sometimes we don’t use our talents because we’re either worn out or just plain lazy. We lack the “oomph” to do something about our talents. I hope you’re not letting your talents lie dormant just because you’re lazy (though, to be honest, we all have moments of laziness). If so, you’re doing a grave disservice to God and His kingdom, of which your family is a part. You’re depriving them of gifts God wants them to have. If laziness is the issue, repent! Ask God to forgive you and help you get up off the couch or off of Facebook and do something with your talents.

If being worn out or overwhelmed is the problem, believe me, I understand. There are times when it’s sheer craziness and exhaustion raising kids. When you’ve been up all night with a sick kid who keeps throwing up, you’re probably not going to have the energy to prepare a gourmet feast the next day. That’s okay. God understands that you can’t operate at peak efficiency all the time. After all, you are living in a human body with a human mind and spirit that all have limitations. But even in the midst of the chaos and hard work, He will make a way for you to use your gifts and talents for the benefit of others, because that is part of His plan for you. And He knows exactly how to tell you to do it without overburdening you.

So whatever your gift is—birthday parties, creative fun, teaching, compassion, service—use it. Don’t think you don’t have any talents, and once you know what they are, don’t let them lie dormant. Use them for the benefit of your family and God’s kingdom.

They’re waiting to be blessed by you.

Romans 12:6a—Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them. (ESV; emphasis added)

Three Ways to Be a Better Mom — Part II

I have a friend who is very domestically inclined. She makes tasty and healthy meals for her family; she keeps her home in good order; she sews; and she is very good at all these things and enjoys doing them.

She far surpasses me in these areas.

I have another friend who makes marvelous birthday cakes that look like they belong on Pinterest for her children. She is extremely talented in this area. In fact, she sometimes makes cakes for other people for all kinds of special occasions, and her cakes are so fantastic that people pay her.

I can’t do that.

Then there is my friend who has eleven children, all of whom are godly and well-behaved. She’s there for every single one of her children when they need her, whether that means comforting them, supporting them in their activities, or providing for their needs in some other way. And she does it all with grace and good humor.

I sometimes have trouble doing the same for my children, even though I have fewer than she does.

All of us have friends who outdo us in some way. Maybe they accomplish more than we do in a certain area; maybe they simply seem to have it all together, whereas we feel like we struggle. Sometimes, we look at our friends (or even strangers), compare ourselves to them, and wind up feeling guilty because we don’t measure up.

But God never planned for us to be just like our friends. He made us the way we are because He wants us to be unique. He delights in our uniqueness.

Yes, I need to prepare meals for my family and keep my home in decent order. But I don’t necessarily have to be as good at doing that as the first friend is that I mentioned. Neither do I have to be a seamstress. God did not make me good at sewing or even inclined to learn. That’s okay. My talents lie in other areas.

I don’t have to be a mom just like this friend, or like any of my other friends. And you don’t have to be just like any of yours. If God wanted us to be just like our friends, He could have made us that way. But He didn’t. Instead, He chose to give us different personalities, skills, and interests. Why? Because He wanted to.

God doesn’t want or need a bunch of clones. Instead, He rejoices in our differences that reflect His vast creativity.

We were never made to be just like someone else. We were carefully designed by God to be the one-of-a-kind way He wants us to be. Yet too often, we spend our efforts and emotions trying to be just like someone else.

That’s not what God wants. He wants us to be the people He made us to be, not replicas of our mom or best friend or some stranger.

There’s nothing wrong with trying to improve in a certain area. For example, it wouldn’t hurt me at all to work a little harder at keeping my house nice (an area in which I tend to be lazy). But feeling bad about myself because I’m not as good at making cakes as one of my friends, or not as good a seamstress as the first friend I mentioned? Not what God has in mind.

Instead of comparing myself to others, God wants me to be the best me I can be. He doesn’t want me to be another Lori or Rebekah or Marilee. In fact, if I spend all my time trying to be just like them, I’ll be failing to reflect the facets of His creativity that He wanted to display through me.

Precious mom, do you realize that God delights in the particular combination of traits that makes you the person you are? That He wants you to do the same?

Don’t waste time or emotional energy wishing you were just like someone else. Instead, celebrate the person you are, because you are how God made you to be. Show your children what it looks like to accept yourself the way God made you and to be content with that.

That’s how to be a better mom—not by trying to be just like someone else.

Psalm 139:14—I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Green grape in cluster of red grapes

Three Ways to Be a Better Mom – Part I

World's Best MomThe cards were decorated with hearts, flowers, and stickers. All over them—both inside and outside—were messages of love and uplifting sentiments such as, “World’s Best Mom!”

As I read my children’s hand-made Mother’s Day cards and admired them out loud, two things happened: first, my heart felt encouraged by my children’s sweet affirmation; second, I got stuck on the phrase “World’s Best Mom”.

That’s what I want to be for my children—the best mom they can imagine. Yet I’m well aware that I’m not always the mom I’d like to be. Sometimes, I’m impatient. Sometimes, I fail to see a child’s inner need. Sometimes, I just plain make mistakes.

You probably do, too, because none of us is perfect. We all fall short on occasion of what we know we could be. We’re alike in another way, too—we all want to get this thing called parenting “right”. We want to do a great job. And sometimes, all of us wonder if we’re doing the right thing or doing well enough.

Over the next three weeks, we’re going to talk about three surprisingly simple things we can do to be better moms. These aren’t just three ways to try harder or to spread ourselves even thinner. They aren’t ways to make meals or birthday cakes worthy of Pinterest. They’re things we can all do not only to benefit our children, but to benefit ourselves. And they don’t require trying very hard. In fact, they sometimes require us to stop trying.

The first way to be a better mom is this: give yourself the freedom not to be Supermom. You don’t have to be able to do everything. You might be terrible at making birthday cakes, and that’s okay. You might not be as creative as you’d like to be, or as energetic. That’s fine. You don’t have to be everything all at once in order to be a great mom. Even God doesn’t expect that of you. Nor do your children. So don’t expect it of yourself.

Likewise, you are going to make mistakes. Don’t beat yourself up because of them. Too many moms set perfection as their standard, and they stress themselves out when they don’t perform perfectly. Then they get burnt out.

True, there are times when we sin against others and need to make things right with God and with them. We may need to go to our children and ask them to forgive us. But if we keep beating ourselves up over what our God and our children have already forgiven us for, we will only become discouraged.

God says that He has removed our sins from us “as far as the east is from the west” (see Psalm 103:12). In other words, He doesn’t hold our sins over our heads anymore, trying to make us feel guilty. It’s Satan who does that. He knows that when God has forgiven us, we are no longer guilty, but he doesn’t want us to know it.

On the other hand, if we listen to what God says in His Word and accept—and truly absorb—His forgiveness, we’ll have no reason to feel guilty any longer. We can instead feel forgiven and free, and we can move on.

Moms, there is no such person as Supermom. Every single mom on this planet has areas where she is less than perfect. Every mom sins. So it’s not the perfect mom who’s the “World’s Best Mom!” (because remember, the perfect mom doesn’t exist). It’s you. It’s me.

My children know I’m not perfect. But they still call me the best mom ever anyway. In their eyes, I’m the best. And that’s perfect enough for me.

Psalm 103:12—As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.