When You’ve Just. Got. Nothing.

geralt / Pixabay

My sister is my best friend. We keep in touch regularly and frequently. We sometimes talk on the phone even when we don’t have anything much to say. At some point, if we run out of things we can pretend are important enough to talk about, there will come a long pause, and then one of us will say, “Well…I got nothin’.”

Today, it is with reluctance that I say the same to you, the precious mom reading this. And I’m sorry to have to say it. But I got nothin’.

The details don’t matter, and I’m not including them here for the same reason I think Paul never told us what his “thorn in the flesh” was: so that we could all identify with him, instead of only a few. And I’m well aware that others in this world are suffering far worse than I am. But suffice it to say that right now, I am spread so emotionally thin and am struggling to bear so much stress and pain that I have no encouraging words for you. I have no funny stories. I have absolutely nothing to offer you that would make your day any better, urge you any closer to the Lord, or even make it worth your time to read this.

Unless, of course, there is someone out there who can somehow benefit from reading the following words: I still have faith.

I do not have faith that God will necessarily make my circumstances better (some will not improve until I reach Heaven, unless God should choose to do a bona fide miracle). Can He, if He wants to? Oh, yes. But will He? I don’t know.

But if He doesn’t, it won’t be because He doesn’t care. It will be because somehow, in some way, He knows that He must not. That He can not, if He is to do what is right and best (and only He gets to determine what those are). It won’t be because He is somehow unaffected by my neediness and pain; on the contrary, He will weep with me.

I don’t know whether or not He is going to take away my pain. I hope He does! But I refuse to define His goodness by whether or not he changes my circumstances. I refuse to stop loving Him simply because He won’t do what I want, like some sort of genie in a bottle.

I refuse to accept good from God, and not trouble.

I choose faith.

I choose Him.

Job 2:10—“Shall [I] accept good from God, and not trouble?” (NIV)

Daniel 3:17-18—“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (NIV; emphasis mine)

When Sausage Rolls Don’t Fly

Sausage rollsThis past Saturday, I found myself wide awake while everyone in the house still slept. It was kind of nice, getting to sit on the couch and read a book all by myself, with no one interrupting me just as I got to a good part.

For a few minutes, at least. Soon, my son Kenny made his way into the living room, flopped into our hunter green, overstuffed recliner, and said, “Hi, Mommy.”

“Hi, Kenny,” I said.

And the house was back to being quiet again. Ahhhhh. I knew Kenny would be content to lie there quietly for awhile. I could either continue to read, or…I could go make a memory.

“Hey, Kenny,” I said, “want to go get donuts?”

We made a quick donut run, arriving back home with a large box and a bag. There was one donut and one sausage roll for each person in our family. Kenny started right in on his, and as the other kids got up, they each dug into their portion.

Timmy, my three-year-old, was halfway through his sausage roll when he brought it to me. That is, he brought me the mangled dough that had been wrapped around the (now absent) sausage. He laid it down right next to me.

It sounded like what he said (with his left cheek puffed out like a chipmunk’s because it was stuffed with the rest of the sausage roll, and his mouth full too) was, “I want it to fly into my room and come back.”

“You want it to fly into your room and come back?” I repeated, not sure I’d heard correctly.

“Yeah,” Timmy said, staring down at the remnants of the dough. After about five seconds, still looking at it, he said dejectedly, “It’s not going to fly.”

I guess he had to learn at some point that dough doesn’t fly, but I still felt bad for him. It’s a hard thing to be disillusioned. It’s much more fun when you believe anything can happen.

I think that’s one reason why Jesus said that we have to receive the kingdom of heaven as a little child if we want to enter into it. I’m sure He had other reasons, too, but I bet that was one of them. Children believe anything can happen.

We adults, however, pride ourselves on being more realistic. We’ve convinced ourselves that we are realistic about what can and can’t happen.

The problem is that sometimes, what we call “realism” is really unbelief.

We may say that we believe God can do anything, but our emotions and the attitudes of our hearts show that we believe otherwise. Our belief that God can do anything has become nothing more than intellectual assent with no practical application. Sure, He could do anything, but He’s not going to. Or if He does anything at all, it will be insignificant.

Somewhere, we bought into the belief that if God doesn’t do exactly what we want in a particular situation, then He’s not doing much of anything. Reality, however, is just the opposite. Something spectacular is always possible—even if it’s not the kind of spectacular we expect.

Timmy’s three. Eventually, he will learn that dough can’t fly. He’ll give up. But I hope he never “learns” that God doesn’t care, or can’t help, or won’t do much—and gives up on God. I hope and pray that he always believes that God can and will do incredible things, no matter the circumstances.

Even if it’s not the kind of “incredible” Timmy was looking for.

Mark 10:15—“I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” (NIV)

Matthew 19:26—Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (NIV)

Independence Day

FireworksThis past week, we in the United States celebrated our Independence Day (usually known as the Fourth of July), the day in 1776 we declared ourselves to be our own country under our own rule. There are as many ways to celebrate the Fourth as there are families in America. Our family’s celebration included burgers for lunch and going to a water park in the afternoon. (Fortunately for us, our Mexican neighbors’ celebration included cooking out on their grill and bringing us a bunch of their extra food.)

Every year when this holiday comes around, the stores gear up for it in advance. They run sales on steaks and sunscreen, chips and beach towels. Families make plans to attend fireworks displays and spend special time together. And all of it is in celebration of the day our ancestors affirmed themselves to be their own nation, a decision with far-reaching consequences and benefits that reach forward in time to this very day.

As Christians, however, we have an Independence Day to celebrate that observes far more than the day we became a nation. Actually, we have two Independence Days. One of them has already come, and the other is still in the future.

Our first Independence Day came when we accepted Christ and He declared us to be His. No longer were we slaves to sin. We were independent from sin, free to choose Christ. As our rector said in church this morning, there are many ways to be enslaved, and before you and I met Christ, we were slaves to sin. But Christ set us free from sin and its rule over us. No longer do we have to obey it as our master. We are now under different rule, a freely chosen government, which is Christ.

You see, accepting Christ doesn’t just mean that Christ frees us from sin so we can live however we want to live, free from restrictions set by anybody. He sets us free from sin for the purpose of inviting us to come under His rule, a rule which guides us into abundant life.

That was our first Independence Day—when we were freed to choose Christ.

Our second Independence Day has not yet come. That’s because the second Day will come only when we reach heaven. In heaven, there will be no more sin. Yes, we’re free from having to obey it down here, but sometimes, out of pure insanity or perhaps misunderstanding of the fact that it has no hold on us anymore, we still choose to obey sin. In heaven, we will no longer choose sin over obeying God.

Already there is no more slavery. But in heaven, there will be no more sin, either.

I’ve already had my first Independence Day, and I pray you have too. (If you haven’t, contact me, and I’ll be glad to introduce you to the One who can set you free.) But I long for the second Day, too. Don’t you?

Galatians 5:1—For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery. (ESV)

Be It Done for You

You know how sometimes when you’re reading the Bible, you read a story you’ve read or heard millions of times before, but all of a sudden God shows you something different from it?

Let me share with you the amazing thing He showed me when this happened to me recently.

I was studying my bible, and I came to Matthew 15, where a woman approaches Jesus and begs Him for healing for her daughter. Jesus tells her (I’m paraphrasing pretty heavily here) that He was sent to the Israelites, not to her people. On the surface of it, this sounds harsh, but it was really only Jesus’ way to delve into her faith. He wanted to see if she understood that he really was there for people of every nationality—that Christianity isn’t a “Jewish” thing only, but a “for the whole world” thing.

The woman passed the test. She replied that she knew that not all the Jews even wanted Him, but that she’d be glad to have Him. Of course, that may not be what commentators might say is the point of this passage, but that is how I took it.

But that’s not all. The “smack between the eyes” that I got from this passage comes from Jesus’ response, where He says, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.”

And I wondered, what would I get if Jesus were to say, “Be it done for you as you desire”?

I’d probably get things like well-behaved children, financial blessings, and good health. But is that it? I mean, are those really even the most important things?

If I knew that I would stand before Jesus and He would say “Be it done for you as you desire,” what would I ask Him for?

Before I go any farther, let me be absolutely clear that Jesus is not obligated to give us something just because we desire it. I’d like a vacation to Europe; He hasn’t given me that. You might like a new car or a bigger house or some other material possession. God’s not obligated to fulfill our requests unless, of course, they are in accordance with His will for us.

But the point is this: we ask too small. We ask for houses and health and money and cars. None of those things is bad in and of itself. But is that all we are asking for?

What about asking for spiritual victories? What about asking for victory over a sin with which we’ve been struggling? What about asking for our children not merely to behave but to develop a deep and enduring relationship with God?

Most of us are far more likely to thank God for a new car than we are for His forgiveness (which we need a whole lot more than we need that car). We’re more impressed with His material blessings, not His spiritual blessings; that’s why we spend more time praying about the material things.

What do we really want from Him? Stuff to make our lives easier and more pleasant.

What is He willing to give us? Far more.

So yes, ask for money to pay the bills or for your car to run or for your kids to stop bickering. Absolutely, ask for those things. But ask for the big things too.

We ask too small.

Matthew 15:28—Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” (ESV)

Mini Me

Jessica Looking Over Lindsey's ShoulderAt almost 6 years old, Lindsey has a “mini me” in just-turned-4yo Jessica. Recently, Jessica and Lindsey have become best buddies, spending almost all their time together playing and laughing. Whatever Lindsey wants is okay by Jessica, and Jessica often asks Lindsey what she thinks before adopting the opinion as her own.

Fortunately, Lindsey doesn’t mind. She seems to be as delighted with Jessica as Jessica is with her. Twenty-two months apart in age, they are close enough in interests and abilities to be fun playmates for each other.

Lindsey Making Snow Angels While Jessica WatchesBut even more fortunate than the fact that Lindsey doesn’t mind Jessica’s attachment but instead welcomes it is the fact that Jessica has chosen a great example to pattern her life after. Lindsey is sweet, sensitive, caring, and well-behaved. She also loves God, a fact that’s obvious even at not-quite-six. If Jessica becomes like Lindsey, I will only be pleased.

The apostle Paul knew it was a good idea to have someone to pattern one’s life after. With his whole heart, he sought to be like Christ. But he also knew it’s helpful to have someone on earth to emulate. In counseling the Corinthian believers, he advised them, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” Basically Paul was saying, “If you want to know how to act right, act like me.”

Wow. I wonder if we could say that to our kids. If you want to know how to act, act just like Mommy.

Love God just like Mommy does. Speak to others—strangers or friends and family—just like Mommy does. Be compassionate like Mommy is. Be generous like Mommy. When you’re mad, act like Mommy does when she’s mad. Could we say that?

Some days, the last thing I want my kids to do is act like me. But they will act like me, whether I specifically tell them to or not. If your kids are old enough, you’ve heard your words coming from their mouth. You’ve seen your attitudes in their body language. You’ve read your emotions on their face.

They are imitating you. But whom are you imitating?

“Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” That’s the key. We have to imitate Christ as much if not more so than our kids imitate us. But do we do so? Too often we don’t. We imitate Christ when it’s convenient, but when it gets difficult, or we’ve had a bad day, or our emotions are involved, we act like…well, the person Satan wants us to be. The person who doesn’t show a very good example of what God is like when we’re under stress.

I know it’s difficult. Believe me, with four young children ages 8 and under, and 37 weeks pregnant with Baby #5, I know it’s difficult to be what we should be all of the time. We’re human beings, after all. But fortunately, we have something far more than human strength available to us to make us what we should be: we have access to God’s divine power enabling us to be what we should. And in His power, we can be far more than we could ever hope to be on our own.

No, we’re not ever going to be perfect. There will be times we have to repent of our actions (or inaction) and apologize to our children, pointing them toward the only One who will truly never fail them. But if we want to be an example we can tell our children to imitate where godliness is concerned, we need to be purposeful about it. We must remember both that our children will imitate us and that godliness doesn’t happen by accident. We need to constantly fix our eyes on Jesus as our example, because only by imitating Him can we hope to provide a worthy example to our children. And we must remember to ask Him for His strength and His power to enable us to be what He wants us to be before the little eyes and hearts watching us.

“Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.” Your children will imitate you, Mom. Will you be purposeful in providing them if not a perfect example, at least the best example you can? Will your example point them toward life and godliness?

I pray that yours will. I pray that mine will do the same for my children.

1 Corinthians 11:1—Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.

Lindsey Hugging Jessica

Green!

My daughter Jessica’s favorite color is green. Other two-year-old girls might prefer pink or purple, but Jessica loves green. In fact, that’s why her unicorn name (when she pretends to be a unicorn) is Green. It’s also why she’s requested green frog gummies and green gum for her upcoming 3rd birthday.

Jessica also loves to be read to, and I love to read to her. I enjoy the moments when she snuggles up close and I get to introduce her to new sights, sounds, and experiences through the pages of a story. The other day, Jessica and I were reading together, and I pointed to the picture illustrating what was going on in the text. But Jessica was intrigued by it for another reason. “Look!” she said, jabbing her index finger onto a picture of a ball. “It’s green!”

The next page was even better. “Look!” Jessica said, pointing to a tree. “That’s green too!” She beamed, her eyes sparkling with delight.

I was delighted too, at the beautiful simplicity of her joy. It didn’t take something complicated to make her happy. All that was necessary was a simple discovery of something beloved right there where she could see it.

Why does it take more than that to bring us adults joy? Why don’t we experience the same enchantment on a regular basis?

Maybe it’s that simple things have lost their thrill for us. Maybe we’ve gotten so “mature” and grown up that we’ve lost our ability to take childlike delight in the simple things in life. We take far too many good things for granted.

I love the color blue. But do I ever stop to enjoy the blue things in my daily life?

I really love soft, fuzzy slippers. But do I ever stop to enjoy it when I slide my feet into a pair, or has the act of doing so become so routine for me that I don’t ever pay attention while I’m doing it?

I wonder what I might discover if I took the time to really experience things instead of just brushing past them in life.

What would you discover? You might get to remember how good it feels to pet a soft, wiggly puppy. Maybe you’d get to savor the sweet taste of a mug of hot cocoa. Or perhaps you’d enjoy relaxing as you chatted on the phone with a friend.

If we were to slow down and rediscover the simple pleasures in life, not only would we experience unexpected delight on a much more frequent basis, but our hearts and minds would be drawn to the Creator of all these things. I know that when I really enjoy something, my heart is moved with gratitude to the One Who created all things and blessed me with the enjoyment of them. It’s a sweet, intimate fellowship when I agree with God that His creation is wonderful, enjoy it, and thank Him for it.

I know how much I like it when my children delight in something I’ve done for them. God loves it, too, when His children truly rejoice in His blessings in our lives. Even the simple ones. Maybe especially the simple ones.

Let’s ask God to open our eyes for us to all the pleasures of His creation. Then, let’s spend as much of the day as we can in delight and gratitude. It won’t be hard. There are myriad blessings out there, just waiting to be appreciated. And who knows? Some of them might even be green.

1 Timothy 6:17—Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.

Cute Birdies

Grackle
A grackle

Yesterday, the three older kids and I were running around town doing errands. Which parking lot we were in at the time this story took place, I don’t remember. But I’ll always remember the lesson I learned there.

As we all exited the van and I counted heads to make sure everybody had gotten out, I heard Kenny say, “Mom, look!” I followed his pointing finger and saw three birds hopping on the ground. All three had dull, blackish/brownish feathers and small, beady black eyes. “Cute birdies!” Kenny exclaimed.

Cute birdies? I thought. They’re ugly.

Then came the unforgettable lesson, a sentence that burned in my heart. We do the same thing to people sometimes.

We usually don’t do it consciously. But we’ve all judged a person after just a brief glimpse. We’ve made character and attitude assumptions and judged the person’s actions based on information from a snapshot taken at one fleeting moment in time. We’ve dismissed people with a roll of our eyes, or simply overlooked people, for any of far too many reasons.

It doesn’t matter all that much when we look at birds and think they’re ugly. But it matters a lot when we look at people and dismiss them as nothing special.

Our Lord Jesus never treated people as anything less than a marvelous creation of God. Sure, sometimes He became righteously angry at them, but He never acted as if they were beneath His notice, or not worth His time. We ought to treat people the same way He did because we want to be like Him.

But there’s another important reason we should follow His lead in our actions and attitudes toward our fellow human beings: Jesus said that whatever we do to “one of the least of these”, we do to Him. In other words, dismissing someone else as “nothing much” means dismissing Him as “nothing much”. We would never say that to His face, but we say it to His creations all the time. Maybe those words never come out of our mouths, but our actions show them to be true. And Jesus, Who sees inside our heart, knows what we are thinking.

Kenny looked at the birds and saw marvelous, cute, energetic creations of God. I wonder why I didn’t see them that way, too. After all, I’m the adult. I’m the one who’s supposed to know better. I’m pretty sure I know which one of us delighted God’s heart.

May we never look at our fellow human beings in the same way I looked at those birds—as undesirable and nothing special. May we learn to judge the worth of each person based on his or her Creator, instead of on any inadequacies we might perceive. After all, “they” shall know us by our love. Based on the level of our love for others, what would “they” know us to be?

Luke 6:45—The good [woman] brings good things out of the good stored up in [her] heart, and the evil [woman] brings evil things out of the evil stored up in [her] heart. For out of the overflow of [her] heart [her] mouth speaks.

Sharing

My daughter, Jessica, loves to share. After all, she’s two-and-a-half.

Okay, well…sometimes she loves to share.

On one such occasion, while I was sitting on the couch working on my husband’s laptop, Jessica came into the room carrying her Happy Meal box. My husband had taken the kids with him while he ran errands so that I could get some things done around the house, and he’d taken them to McDonald’s for supper. Jessica climbed up beside me on the couch and handed me a ketchup packet. “Do you want to share these with me?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, wanting to encourage her spirit of sharing. Jessica patted the red box with the golden arch handles and said, “Actually, you can share all of this with me.” She began taking the parts of her meal out of the box and placing them between us on the couch.

Her sweet spirit of sharing reminded me of a certain little boy sitting in the crowd listening to Jesus preach. Lunchtime came, and everybody was hungry. Nobody had brought anything to eat except this one little boy. And he shared the whole thing—his entire lunch.

Usually, when we think about this story, the focus is on Jesus and the great miracle He performed with the itty-bitty lunch. It’s always right to focus on Jesus; in fact, there’s no more worthy object of our attention. But I think we often miss the fact that this little boy shared. He offered what he had. There was no way he could have known what Jesus was about to do. But he shared anyway.

It’s a simple point, I know. It’s not terribly theologically profound. But it matters.

If we would all be as willing to share as the little boy was, or as Jessica was that time she sat beside me, this world would be very different. So would our churches. So would our families. But it’s hard to let go of our free time, our sleep, or our extra money. It’s especially hard to let go of our “right” to have things our way and concede that right to others, letting them have things their way.

What’s hardest for you to share? I know that for me, the answer depends on when you ask. Sometimes, I’m selfish about giving up sleep. Sometimes, I want to hang onto my rights. Please don’t misunderstand me; we aren’t supposed to say “yes” to every opportunity to give of ourselves. There are times when it’s our time to act, and other times when it isn’t. But when it is our time, we need to be willing to share what we have for the benefit of others.

Even if what we have is only an itty-bitty lunch. Or a Happy Meal.

Mark 6:38—“How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.” When they found out, they said, “Five—and two fish.”

Matthew 10:8—Freely you have received, freely give.

Look at Me!

My youngest child, two-year-old Jessica, is enjoying her increasing physical abilities as she discovers what her body is designed to do. Whether it’s stretching as far as she possibly can or deliberately doing something silly, she loves to call my attention to her amazing feats.

Last week, she was in a playful mood. As I sat on the couch reading, I heard her say, “Look at me!”

She had struck a pose that required balancing skills, and she was waiting, with a big grin on her face, for me to applaud her achievement.

“Wow, look at you!” I said, and she grinned even wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners with delight.

One of the things I enjoy most about parenting is affirming my children. I love telling them how much I love them and what valuable creations of God they are. I rejoice in their achievements, and I make sure to show them that I do. I delight in seeing their little spirits grow strong and secure, and knowing that my words and my love had a part in that.

I bet you feel the same way about parenting your children. And I’m absolutely certain that God feels the same way about parenting us.

You and I enjoy pouring love and verbal affirmation into our children’s lives, even over the little things like striking a challenging pose. And if we, being evil, know how to do this for our children, and delight in it, how much more must God delight in doing the same for us?

Pause and let that sink in. Just as we are eager to encourage and affirm our children, God is eager to do the same for us, only vastly more so. (I’m not suggesting that God ever encourages us to keep sinning, or overlooks our sin. I’m talking here about times when we have achieved something good.) And if we can bring a smile to our children’s faces by affirming them, how much more could God bring a smile to our faces and delight to our souls if we could just hear Him cheering for us?

Too often, we get so focused on the fact that He is our Lord, which He most certainly is, that we forget He is also our Friend. That’s what Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection made possible: friendship with God. We can tell God, “Look at me!” and know that He is watching, ready to encourage us.

What does this look like in the normal, everyday life of an ordinary mom?

It looks like doing the laundry and saying, “Look at me, Daddy!” and hearing Him say, “Well done. I’m proud of you.”

It looks like actually getting your family to church on time, saying, “Look at me, Daddy!” and knowing that He is smiling and saying, “Good for you!”

Let’s look for His smile this week (and remember, His smile doesn’t depend on performing perfectly, because nobody can do that, anyway). Let’s listen for His words of encouragement. Let’s invite Him into our life for all the small things, too, that happen to us every day, for Him to share them with us.

“Look at me, Daddy!” we’ll say.

And we’ll know that He looks, and loves, and smiles.

Matthew 7:11 – If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!

Walking

We live two blocks from our neighborhood park. The kids love to go there. It has a giant set of toys all connected together, including several slides and things to climb on. It has huge, grassy areas for the kids to run around on. It also has a small basketball court and a covered slab of concrete with two picnic tables. When the weather is right, the paletero often comes by pushing his freezer cart containing ice cream treats. All in all, the park is a great place to be.

It can take anywhere from one minute to thirty minutes to get to it, however, depending on our mode of transportation. When it’s too hot out during the summer months, I usually load the kids into the van for a ride to the park. That’s when the trip takes about one minute. When the weather’s more temperate, we often walk, or the kids take turns riding in our wagon. That’s when the trip takes thirty minutes.

If you’ve ever walked anywhere with a young child, you understand. You can’t just, well, walk there. You have to stop and look at every interesting thing along the way.

Between our house and the park, there are approximately one million fascinating things just begging to be more closely examined. Like…rocks. And that dog over there. And that puddle—wait! Don’t jump in it!—of dirty water.

I used to try to make our walk to the park efficient. After all, it was my job to teach the kids to do things promptly and without wasting time.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before I came to realize that stopping to look at things, or just walking slowly, wasn’t a waste of time. In fact, it was the whole point.

I had thought that getting to the park was the point, so I wanted us to do business and get there. My children, however, had more wisdom than I did. They realized that the journey was as much part of the whole experience as being at the park was. In fact, they had a better time on our outings when they could experience life along the way, as opposed to when they had to pass life by so they could experience a smaller piece of it for a longer time.

I wonder how our lives would be different if we could learn to enjoy the journey instead of focusing on making it quickly and efficiently from one experience to another.

As moms, it’s easy for us to get so caught up in helping our child reach the next milestone or achieve the next goal that we forget to enjoy our child, and let him or her enjoy us, along the way. We’re so busy trying to keep the house clean that we can’t take time to cuddle our child as he crawls up into our lap. We become so focused on planning for the next vacation, or the upgrade to a bigger house, that we can’t enjoy what we have now.

Where does God fit into all this? He gets squeezed in on Sundays and sometimes Wednesdays. Maybe occasionally, we give a minute or two of prayer time.

What we fail to realize is that the journey with Him is part of the point. Had heaven been the only point, God could have taken us there the minute He saved us. But He has chosen to leave us on this world for awhile. Why? Because He knows that we need the journey. Walking with God here, now, on earth, is not merely a fringe benefit we get to enjoy on the way to heaven. It’s part of the goal.

Will my kids and I still make it to the park even if we don’t particularly enjoy the journey? Yes. Will you and I still make it to heaven even if we don’t particularly enjoy God along the way? Yes. But we’ll have missed the point.

We were made to enjoy God. We were made for a relationship with Him. And we don’t have to wait for heaven to experience that. We can love and be loved by Him now.

If we make it to heaven without having walked with God, we’re missing something.

And missing out on the journey with God matters a whole lot more than missing out on a journey to the park.

Oh, God, grant us a heart that deeply desires to walk with You along the way. Teach us how. Please, God, take us by the hand, so You and we can walk together.

Psalm 42:1—As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.