How to De-Stress Your Christmas Season

Lots of lightsPresents to buy and wrap. Parties to dress for and attend. Baking to be done. Family time to be planned. Travel arrangements to be made. Special services or concerts to attend. Not to mention fulfilling our regular responsibilities—going to work, attending (or teaching) school, preparing meals, cleaning the house, and chauffeuring the kids to a thousand different places.

We adopt perfection as our standard and spend December trying to achieve it. And in the process, we stress out not only ourselves, but everyone around us.

Martha would agree with us. Not Martha Stewart (and even she doesn’t always get everything right), but Martha of Bethany. The one who had a sister named Mary and a brother named Lazarus.

Jesus and His disciples had come to Martha’s house to visit and have dinner. And Martha was going nuts in the kitchen trying to make everything come together just right. To make matters worse, her younger sister Mary wasn’t helping. She was sitting around fellowshipping, while Martha was doing all the work.

So Martha stormed out to the living room. “Jesus!” she said (I’m going to paraphrase here). “Don’t You care that Mary is making me do all the work? Tell her to stop being lazy and help me!”

In response, Jesus said something that for a long time, I didn’t understand. “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Wait, what? Doesn’t Jesus care when some people are slacking, leaving others to have to do all the work?

Of course He cares. He never approves of laziness or of shirking one’s responsibilities. Here’s what I think He meant by what He said (allow me to paraphrase again): “Martha, you’re focusing on yourself. That’s why you’re so stressed out. Mary has chosen to focus on Me, and an encounter with Me is of eternal value.”

Notice that Jesus didn’t say, “Martha, preparing food is not important,” or, “If you were better at this, you wouldn’t be so stressed.” He was pointing out the fact that her focus was all wrong. If Martha had been doing her work with a focus on Jesus instead of on herself—in other words, if she had been offering her work as worship—then she would have encountered Jesus as surely as Mary did.

This Christmas season, if you find yourself getting stressed, trying slowing down for just a moment and taking a deep breath. Is your focus on Jesus? Are you offering your efforts as worship?

You have a choice. You can either focus on yourself and become frustrated at all the things you have to do, or you can turn your heart toward Jesus and encounter Him in the midst of the hustle and bustle.

You see, Christmas is not about folding napkins in the shape of a swan, or finding that perfect gift.

Christmas is about encountering Jesus.

May we never get so caught up in the trappings of the season that we miss out on intimacy with the One whose birth we celebrate.

Luke 10:41-42—”Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” (NIV)

No More Sprinkles

Donut without sprinklesI still remember what my favorite donut was when I was a little girl: the strawberry icing one at Dunkin’ Donuts. I loved that donut. I chose it every time I had the chance.

So I can understand Timmy’s love affair with chocolate sprinkle donuts. After all, they’re pretty good, too. Topped with chocolate and colorful sprinkles, what’s not to love?

Apparently…the cake part of the donut.

The other day, my husband stopped by our neighborhood bakery and brought home treats for all of us. Timmy, of course, got his chocolate sprinkle donut. He dug into it immediately, and I walked off, eating my own treat, and didn’t think any more about Timmy’s donut.

Until he came and found me and held out the remnants of his snack. “Do you want this?” he asked politely. “It doesn’t have sprinkles anymore.”

Indeed, it didn’t, except for a few stragglers near the inner hole. The rest of the sprinkles were gone—removed, presumably, by the teeth that left bite-shaped marks in the frosting and sheared off the barest smidgen of the top of the actual donut.

I found this rather amusing. Here, I ate off all the good stuff. So now that I’m through with it, do you want the boring stuff that’s left?

It’s amusing when a child offers us his leftovers. What’s not always so amusing is when you and I offer our children our leftovers.

I’m talking about leftovers like our leftover time, patience, and emotional energy.

Too often, we get our priorities way out of whack. We focus on something else to the exclusion (or near-exclusion) of the things or people that should be most important to us. And then all we’ve got to give them is whatever wasn’t swallowed up by something else.

Believe me, moms, I understand that some days it’s difficult to muster up the emotional energy to play Candy Land one more time. I know it can be hard to find the time to sit down with our children and really listen to whatever is on their little minds and hearts. I don’t work outside the home, but I had a career before becoming a stay-at-home mom, and I am well aware there are days when you just want to come home from work and have a peaceful evening, where nobody wants anything more from you.

When this happens occasionally, it’s usually not that big a deal. Our kids need to know that we’re people, too. That we get tired, too. We have needs, too.

But it does become a problem when giving our kids our leftovers is our standard way of living life. Our usual thing. Kids know where they rank in our affections.

Are you giving your children what they need? Are you pouring the best of yourself into their lives as often as you have opportunity?

Don’t give them a donut that you don’t want anymore.

Let them have the sprinkles, too.

Philippians 2:17—Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. (ESV)

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)

Before It’s Too Late

sundialAs I write this, my heart is heavy. I recently received news that a dear family friend has been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness. I didn’t cry the night I found out; I don’t think reality had sunk in yet. But I spent most of the next morning in tears.

My friend is seeking a second opinion from another specialist. Apparently, there’s still some possibility that what she has might have some other name and might not be life-threatening at all. That’s what we’re all hoping, anyway, and praying for. But always, in the back of my mind—and, I’m sure, hers—is the possibility that maybe the first doctor was right. Maybe she really is going to die.

Our times together may be many fewer than either of us anticipated. And in light of that reality, I’ve been thinking. Which other family members and friends whom I really care about do I need to spend more time with while I still can?

After all, each one of us is going to die someday (unless, of course, the Lord Jesus returns first). Our time with every single one of our friends and loved ones is limited. We don’t know how much longer we have with anyone. When I get the news that someone I love is dying, or has died, I don’t want to have any regrets. I want to have made the most of that relationship that I could.

Especially my relationships with my children.

If—may God forbid!—one of my children were to die before I did, I would want to know that I had done everything I could to love them, nurture them, comfort, protect, and encourage them while I had the chance. I’d want to know that I’d spent more time playing outside with them than inside on Facebook. I’d want to know that when I had the chance to really be with one of my children, that I took advantage of that, pouring love and security into their little souls and making them feel like I’d rather be with them than anywhere else on earth.

I know I can’t be a perfect mom. But if that day were ever to come when I sat on my child’s bed hugging his or her favorite stuffed animal and breathing in the fading scent of my little boy or girl, I would want to have no regrets. I would want to know that I’d put my children before myself and poured out my life so that they could have the best life possible. I would want to have a huge vault of memories stored up that I could take out and treasure one by one, instead of a string of memories of my own voice saying, “Not right now,” or, “Mama’s busy,” or, “Why don’t you go play with one of your siblings?”

I can’t change the mistakes I’ve made in the past. I can’t go back and re-take advantage of opportunities I missed the first time around.

But I can start living differently from here on out.

I can be purposeful about spending time with my children. Why always wait until they come to me? Why not go to them and ask if they would like to play?

When my children do come and ask, I can accept their invitation gladly and be thrilled about the fact that they want to spend time with me right now, instead of resentful that they interrupted something I was doing.

I can make a list of all the things I would want to look back on and say, “I did everything I could,” and I can begin doing those things now. Today. Because I really don’t know how much time I have with my precious children.

If I fail to spend plenty of good, purposeful, quality time with my children, I’ll regret that one day—whether that day comes at the end of my life, or of theirs, or somewhere in between. But I’ll never regret it if I invest my life in my children. If I pour my life into theirs.

If I make loving memories while I can.

Philippians 2:17—Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. (ESV)

Serving Royalty

Two days ago, I threw a birthday party for a king. Nobody saw Him, but He was there. He really enjoyed the results of the time and effort I had put into the party. He loved the gifts and the games. And He laughed with us as we took turns beating the piñata with a special stick. It might have looked like the birthday party was for my nine-year-old son Kenny, but it was for a King.

Yesterday morning, the King’s allergies were bothering Him, and He was sick. I comforted Him and kept Him extra close to my side. I told Him I was sorry He was feeling sick and that I hoped He would get better soon. I prayed for Him. It might have looked like I was tending to my seven-year-old daughter Lindsey, but I was ministering to the King.

By now you’ve figured out that the King I’m referring to is Jesus. And you might think I’m saying merely that Jesus wanted me to serve my children, and I obeyed, and that’s what I mean when I say I served Him. But there’s far more to it than that.

In the 25th chapter of Matthew, Jesus tells a group of people that they ministered to Him in a variety of ways. They question this. “Lord, when did we ever minister to you in prison, or when did we ever see you sick or naked and help you?” they ask. Jesus tells them, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these my brothers, you did for me.”

If that’s true—and since Jesus said it, we know that it is—then the things we do for our children have incredible significance because Jesus takes it personally. So I didn’t just make sure my children ate breakfast—I fed Jesus Himself. You didn’t just help your daughter tie her shoes—you helped Jesus clothe Himself properly.

Everything you and I do as moms in service to our families is done directly to Jesus. It matters, moms. You’re not merely doing the same things you’ve done a thousand times before, you’re ministering directly to the Lord.

True, you don’t see Jesus’ face when you look at the little boy in that high chair. It’s not His chubby cheeks you see smeared with the same spaghetti sauce that’s in his hair and all over the tray. But He’s there.

It might not look like Jesus whom you’re driving to school, to a playdate, or to a doctor’s appointment. But it is. Because Jesus said that when you drive your daughter somewhere she needs to go—when you do something for someone else—you are doing it directly for Him.

Precious mom, do you think of your motherhood this way? That all of your service is directly ministering to the Lord? That in fact, as a mom, you can minister to Him in ways that others cannot?

You have a unique and precious calling—the calling not only to serve your children, but to serve Jesus in some very practical and direct ways. What you do matters, mom, and you matter—far more than you may realize.

What have you done for Jesus today? I bet it’s more than you think.

Matthew 25:40—The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’ (NIV; see verses 31-46 for the whole story)

Freely Give

My son Kenny loves his Nintendo 3DS. In fact, playing games on it is one of his favorite things in the world to do. He’s even willing to do extra housework in order to earn more media time so he can play with it.

That’s why my husband knew it would be a difficult conversation when he had to sit down with Kenny and tell him what we think might have happened to his beloved DS, which had been lost for days.

Sure enough, when I walked into the room, Kenny was crying. My husband had explained to him that it was possible Timmy threw it away (Kenny had left it somewhere Timmy could reach it), but that whether or not that was the case, Kenny would have to earn money for another DS. So Kenny was not only grieving the loss of his prized possession, he was grieving the possibility of not having it replaced for a really long time.

At that point, Jessica came into the room. She had heard the discussion about Kenny’s having to earn money for another DS, and she went to stand in front of him. She opened her hands to show him a dollar and a quarter—all the money she had. “Here, Kenny,” she said.

That’s the kind of sweet, giving heart Jessica has. She’ll give even when it means she has nothing left for herself. But that’s not the end of the story.

Later that day, after returning home from a party, the kids each had some candy. The three older ones all had plenty, but Jessica had gotten only one piece. “It just seemed like it was too fast,” she said, the tears running down her face. She was referring to the fact that an adult at the party had been tossing candy into the air for the kids to grab, and Jessica had felt intimidated by all the other kids’ (including mine’s) diving to get the candy.

While I consoled her, Phil leaned down and whispered in Kenny’s ear. I found out later that he reminded Kenny how generous Jessica had been in offering him her money, and he suggested that Kenny offer her some of his candy. Phil said that Kenny froze, and Phil could almost see the thoughts passing through Kenny’s mind: thoughts of Jessica’s generosity warring with thoughts of wanting to keep all his candy for himself.

In case you’re wondering, generosity and love for his sister won out, and Kenny gave Jessica some candy. As he had freely received, he freely gave, just as Jesus commands us in Matthew 10:8.

It’s a good lesson for all of us, because we’ve all had blessings given to us. In fact, every blessing we’ve ever received has come from the free outpouring of God’s generosity to us. Yet too often, when we’re called upon to give freely in return, we don’t do it.

It doesn’t even necessarily have to be money or material goods, though there will be times when those things are appropriate. In the Matthew passage, Jesus was reminding His disciples that they had received abundant spiritual blessings from Him. Because of that, He said, they were to freely bestow blessings upon others, which He gave them the ability to do.

You and I have the ability to bless others too. We might not have much money, but again, that’s not what we’re talking about. (It wasn’t what Jesus was talking about either.) We can all bless others with kindness, with an encouraging word, with a smile or a hug or a look of understanding. We can offer as blessings our own experiences. We can identify with others and empathize with them. Best of all, of course, we can introduce them to the One who made all this possible for us.

When Jesus commanded the disciples to give freely, He knew they would have to take conscious action to do so, and his other words in the passage reflect that fact. Likewise, you and I need to be purposeful about giving freely to others. Otherwise, it just ain’t gonna happen on a regular basis.

Why not start by thinking about some of the blessings you have received, whether material, spiritual, emotional, or some other kind? Then take inventory of what you have that could be used to bless someone else. Finally, determine that you will use those things to bless others. Ask God to show you opportunities you might otherwise miss.

You see, giving freely isn’t just a nice thing to do. Remember that it’s also a command.

Matthew 10:8—“Freely you have received, freely give.” (NIV)

Last Dollar

I don’t remember what Lindsey bought herself with the first $14 of her $15 in Christmas money.

But I’ll never forget what she did with the last dollar.

Shortly before Christmas, each of our children received $15 cash from a beloved aunt and uncle who live nearby. Naturally, each of the four older children had plans for the money. Ellie wanted to save hers toward a video game she’s been wanting. The other three all had particular toys they wanted, and they asked me to take them to Wal-Mart to buy their chosen items.

We had fun shopping together, and Kenny, Lindsey, and Jessica spent their money. Kenny and Jessica gave their money to me, and I purchased their toys along with the other things I was buying. Lindsey, however, wanted to pay for hers herself, and she did so. She then took her dollar in change and her toy, and we all headed for the doors.

A few yards from the exit, I heard Lindsey say, “Oh, I know what to do with my last dollar!”

I turned to see her grabbing the dollar from her purse and folding it up. She stood facing a 3-foot-tall metal and plastic container with a sign on it announcing that donations would go to the children’s hospital in our area. The children and I are familiar with this container and its purpose; they love putting coins in it and watching the coins spiral downward through the funnel and into the bottom of the bin.

This time, as I watched, Lindsey stuffed her dollar into the slot in the container made for that purpose. “There!” she said happily, ready to go now.

I gave her a hug. “That was kind,” I said quietly.

I was overwhelmed at the generosity of Lindsey’s sweet heart. And I knew that had I been in her position, with only a dollar left in money I could spend on whatever I wanted, I would not have given it away. Yet she did, and it made her happy.

That’s the kind of girl she is. She is happiest when doing something for others. And I wonder…am I that kind of mom? Am I happiest when doing something for my children?

Sometimes, the answer is no. Often, I’m happiest when I get to surf Facebook without interruption or when I get a good night’s sleep—not when I give of myself in order to meet my children’s needs. When I have extra time and sleep and fun—not when I give my last dollar of energy, creativity, and stamina.

Why is that? If it really is more blessed to give than to receive, as Jesus said, why is it so easy for us as moms to be happiest when we’re receiving instead of giving?

It’s because we look for happiness in the wrong place.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s great to have free time to do with as we wish. And all moms need physical rest and time to mentally and emotionally recharge. There’s nothing wrong with desiring those things.

Where we go wrong is when we think those are the things that will bring us the greatest happiness.

You see, when Jesus said that it’s more blessed to give than to receive, He meant that true happiness isn’t found in receiving things for others but in pouring ourselves out on others’ behalf.

I’m not really sure where we got the idea that serving others can’t make us happy, unless that idea came from Satan. Granted, the service itself may not be fun or exciting, but we can choose to be happy anyway. If we buy into the idea that true happiness will primarily come not when we’re fulfilling God’s plan—serving our children—but when they leave us alone, we’re making a serious mistake with long-term consequences.

Moms, I don’t entirely understand how this works yet. I’m still working it out in my own life. But I do know that I believe what Jesus said—and that if what He said is true, which it is, some of my attitudes need to change.

What about you?

Mark 10:45—“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Acts 20:35—In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ “

Dance Now

One of the best things about having children is that you get to do goofy, fun things with them. You have an excuse for singing at the top of your lungs while you’re driving, making the person in the next car over wonder about you; you’re totally justified in seeing who can make the best zebra noise; and you have every reason in the world to crank up the CD player in the kitchen and dance like crazy until you all fall over.

The other day, I was standing in the dining room holding Timmy when a neat song came on the radio that was playing in the kitchen. I wanted to dance! So I gripped Timmy’s right hand with my left hand, held him close with my other arm around him and his around me, and danced. Gently, of course—not crazily—because Timmy is still young. And as we danced, the thought hit me: someday, I will dance with you at your wedding. Only then, you’ll be taller than I am—probably much taller. I’ll still hold your right hand with my left, but my other arm won’t be around you holding you up, and yours won’t be helping you cling to me for dear life, lest you flop over backwards. You’ll put your hand on the small of my back to guide me, because you’ll be the leader, not I. I’ll look up into your eyes instead of down. And we’ll dance.

I know that if this time ever comes (because he might not choose to have dancing at his wedding, or might not even get married), it will be many years in the future. Time and life may intervene in unexpected ways to prevent that day from ever taking place. I have no guarantee that I’ll ever dance with Timmy at his wedding.

That’s why we dance now.

Do you dance with your children? Maybe not literally (although it’s a great activity), but at least figuratively? Do you do things with them—silly, random, fun things—that you can look back on later and remember, not just the activity, but the fun, laughter, and love you shared?

Often, we think about doing the big things, like vacations, Christmas, and birthday parties. But do we make the most of the little moments of each day with our kids? Yes, the big events can bring big memories. But so do the little ones, the special moments you make out of nothing, the moments that almost pass by as ordinary until you make them something special.

Timmy will never remember that we danced that day in the dining room. But I will. And if we have enough of these moments together, he will at least grow up knowing that home, and Mommy, were fun and secure places to be.

Both fun and security are important, but one is foundational. Security is foundational to fun. If you don’t feel secure, you won’t be having fun. But when my children say things like Ellie has said a few times—“I never want to grow up, because being a kid is so much fun”—I know they feel secure as well.

So by having fun in the everyday moments, I not only get to hear my children’s contagious giggles, I also get to know that I’m building security into them. We may not have crazy-fun moments every day, but the everyday moments can be crazy-fun, if we’re willing to seize them.

How about you? Do you have fun with your child? Does your child get to experience the precious gift of having fun with you? Because that’s what family fun is: a gift from God, designed to knit together the hearts of the parents and the children.

None of us knows what tomorrow will bring, or if there will even be a tomorrow. If tomorrow does come, we don’t know whether it will be filled with joy, tragedy, or something in between. Put simply, you can’t count on tomorrow, either to exist or to afford you the opportunities to have fun and bond in silly ways with your children. So don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today.

Dance now.

Proverbs 3:27, 28—Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, “Come back later; I’ll give it tomorrow”—when you now have it with you.

Proverbs 27:1—Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring forth.

Pony on a Stick

Two weeks ago, my husband and I took our kids to the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo. For those of you who might not live near where rodeos are common, this event is a BIG deal in our area and large portions of the state. The stock show and rodeo take up several full pages of the paper each day with pictures and results of the various contests.

You know what the rodeo part means. The “stock show” part involves thousands of animals being shown, some for the purpose of being sold, and some just to win a prize. There are cows, goats, chickens, rabbits, and many others. And, of course, steers. In fact, the “star” of the stock show is whichever steer is judged near the end of the event to be the Grand Champion. This steer usually sells for almost $200,000, which goes directly to the child or teenager showing him.

But if you’re like our family, and you’re not showing any animals, you probably just enter through the front gates. These provide the best access to things other than the animal barns, such as the petting zoo, the midway rides, and the ponies on a stick. I’m not talking about those toys that have a pony head attached to a stick, where you straddle it and ride the pony all over the house. I mean real ponies, harnessed to spokes in a horizontal wheel. For a fee, kids get to choose a pony and ride it as the ponies walk in a circle, rotating the wheel. If you really want to fork over some money, the attendants will take a picture of your child on the pony. Otherwise, you can lean over the railing and do it yourself as your child and his or her pony pass by.

Jessica Riding a PonyI can identify with those ponies. As a mom, I too feel like I sometimes go in circles, not really accomplishing anything. It seems that I’m there just to entertain the children when they want my attention. The rest of the time, I’m just…tied down. Can’t go anywhere, because the children might need me. Can’t roam free, because I have a job to do. Don’t receive much attention, except when people want something from me. Almost never get a thank you. Not glamorous, and definitely not the star of the show.

It’s easy to feel like that as a mom, isn’t it? Like what we do doesn’t really matter much in the overall scheme of things. It sure isn’t glamorous. Ask the world what it considers a glamorous job, and motherhood won’t make the list. The big money goes to those who do what society considers really important—the grand champions. Not to us. Not to moms.

In my poem “Loving Jesus”, I’ve already addressed one reason why what we do matters immensely. But I want to make a different point this time. We moms may not be the stars of the show. We’re not the ones whose pictures fill up page after page of the paper. Our jobs may not matter much, in terms of society’s values.

But we matter to our children.

If my family ever arrives at the stock show one year to find that the ponies on a stick aren’t happening, my kids will be disappointed, but they’ll find another activity to replace it. But if I am ever not present in my children’s lives for the long term, they will never fully get over it.

We matter to our children, whether they are ours by birth, adoption, or marriage, in a way words don’t fully describe. We fill a space in our child’s heart that was placed there just for us. Children instinctively love their mothers and depend on them in a way that goes far beyond what they know how to express. Sure, somebody else could change their diapers or fix their meals. But only you can touch that place deep within their souls that needs a mom, and not just any mom, but you.

Sure, there are other loving people in your child’s life who are important to your child. But none of them can replace you. God has put a need in your child’s heart for you that cannot be met by any of those other people.

You may never get your picture in the paper for being a grand champion. But you will still have succeeded in your calling, even on those days when you burn their toast. You will have mattered to your children in a way no one else can.

1 Thessalonians 1:4—For we know, [moms] loved by God, that he has chosen you.

Gooooooooooal!

I can’t wait for the London 2012 Olympics to start. There’s nothing better than watching together with my children as athletes from more than 200 countries give it their all, competing against each other for the gold medal. There’s not much that makes me feel more patriotic than seeing an American athlete standing on the top step of the podium, wearing a gold medal, hand over his or her heart, listening to The Star-Spangled Banner being played for millions of people to hear. (And not much cuter than seeing my kids stand on the coffee table in the same posture, knowing by identification with the athletes that they’re winners, too.)

Olympic athletes all have a goal: to be the best. They spend years of their lives and thousands of hours (not to mention dollars) pouring themselves into their sport. Everything, from what they eat to when they sleep to how they fix their hair is designed to enhance their performance.

In other words, no one becomes an Olympic champion by accident. Each athlete knows what goal he or she is pursuing. No one stands atop the podium as a result of consistently trying to avoid training, and not a single person has a gold medal placed around his or her neck as a reward for hating sports and spending eight hours a day sitting in front of the TV.

If you want to become the Olympic champion—or the champion at anything else—you have to constantly, consistently hold that goal up in front of you and pursue it. Anything less won’t get you there.

Too bad more of us (myself included) don’t care much about being champions at serving others. We don’t even desire the goal. When we’re called to serve, we often resent it, unless somehow the service seems like fun. We certainly don’t spend hours a day practicing it. We’re usually willing to serve (albeit reluctantly) when service is thrust upon us, but we sure don’t hold up “being a good servant” as a goal in front of us constantly and consistently. We don’t want to be the Olympic champion of servers. We want to spend those eight hours a day on the couch watching TV. We want to eat what we want, sleep when we want, and do our hair how we want. We see no reason to discipline ourselves to reach a certain goal when the goal doesn’t really matter to us.

We see being a servant as an obligation to discharge, not a worthy goal to pursue. We’ll do it because Jesus said it, so we know we’re supposed to. But we don’t really want to.

What difference it would make in my life and yours if we were to decide that being a servant is a worthwhile goal and actually desire to pursue it? If we were to start each day by saying, Today, being a successful servant (one who has, in fact, served) is my goal?

I’m not suggesting that it is never appropriate to rest and relax. There are clear examples in the Bible of Jesus resting and instructing His disciples to do the same. But what was the purpose of His life? Was it to enjoy those times of resting? No. In His own words, His purpose was “not to be served, but to serve.”

Jesus dedicated His entire life to service and commanded us to do the same. He didn’t say, “Serve when you have to and hide your resentment that service interrupted you from other activities.” No, He said to do all things with an attitude of love. I’m pretty sure He meant a positive, willing attitude, as well.

Then He left it up to us to decide whether or not we’ll enter training for the life track He has laid out for us. Are we willing to devote ourselves to what He said should be our goal in life, pursuing that goal with everything that’s in us? Or will we resent the demands placed upon us in training for something we don’t care much about being good at?

I hope and pray for all of us that it’s the former. Because in terms of being a servant, we all have the ability to be the Olympic champion. In the arena of serving, millions of people reach the goal, because you get there not by defeating someone else, but by being fully obedient. One day, Jesus Himself can place the gold medal around our neck and say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Will you and I stand on top of the podium to hear him say that, or will we be at home on the couch watching the ceremony on TV, because we never trained?

Mark 10:45—“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”