The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth

There was a great moment at dinner this week. Our youngest boy had eaten all his sausage and cheese, but was reluctant to consume the pepper. At stake was a delicious Neapolitan ice cream cake, but the pepper was standing in the way of him ever getting it. The husband was delighted to think that said Neapolitan ice cream cake would soon be his. But the boy's brothers decided to start chanting his name and clapping him and telling him he could do it, showing him the cake, and cheering him on. Eventually, spurred on by the encouragement he shoved in the food and it was gone. Reluctantly the husband handed over the cake.

The 'cheering on' aspect of the great pepper consumption reminded me of what I had written in my prayer journal last week. Sometimes I don't stand on the truth of what the bible says about God, and His view of me. I can get myself in a doubting muddle or wallow in a bit of "whoa is me" attitude. The bit when the donkey in Shrek sings "I'm all alone" comes to mind. So I wrote down what the Father actually thinks of me, what the coach shouts at me from the sidelines...

"You can trust me. I am terrifying but you are safe in me. I know you. I'm not surprised by your sin or your lack of faith. I see you and I know you. My beloved son spent Himself for you. I spent all I had on you. I have more for you. You can come close and you wont get burned. I delight in you. I am faithful to you. I am slow to anger. I cherish you. I have you. I am your father. You are welcome in my house, in my presence. I listen to you. I am never too busy for you. I have defeated the enemy. The lies he tells you have no power. My truth is sweet. Taste and see that I am good. It is my choice to bless you. You are chosen and accepted. I have adopted you. You are no orphan. You can do all things through my son. I am mighty in battle. I do not grow weary. My arm is not too short to provide for you. I am all you need. I cannot reject you. I picked you for my team. I ride on a mighty horse, as the head of the army. I am powerful. Fear me but do not be afraid. You can approach me. I am your refuge and your coach. I will not pour my wrath on you. I poured it on my son instead. Before you even wake up, I am pleased with you. When you go to sleep, I am still pleased with you. I cannot be moved or shaken. I hold you. You don't phase me. I am uncontainable. I am mighty. I love you. I've got your back. I am for you."

If someone said this to me every day, I'm sure I would live a little differently. Oh hang on, this is said to me every single day and on through eternity. It's the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth!

"For the word of the LORD is right and true; he is faithful in all he does."
                                                                                                        Psalm 33v4

Missing One Blue Toothbrush

This week one of the little blue toothbrushes went to stay with his Granny and Pops for two nights. He had the choice of taking a brother with him, but he decided he would like his grandparents all to himself. So off he went with his ruck sack on his back, and Tigger in his arms. It was hard to tell which one was the jumpy, excitable soft toy and which one was the jumpy, excitable small boy!
It sounds like he had a wonderful time; two adults listening to him solely for two days, a train ride to London, a visit to the Transport Museum, sweets from the M&M store, a Happy Meal from FatDonalds and hours of Scaletrix with Pops. What a blessing grandparents are!

But oh how we missed him! We missed his boundless energy. We missed his cheeky smile. We missed his funny little ways, his words, his bounce. We missed one of our blue toothbrushes. Even one of his older brothers said that he missed being annoyed by him. The house was a little quieter, bedtimes were a little easier, but there was definitely something lacking in our house. We could feel it physically, but also emotionally.

It got me thinking of how much God must miss us when we drift away from him, for a day, a week or longer. In the story of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15v11-32), the Father was looking out for his son, longing to see him again, “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him." I love that Abba Father is out looking for my return, with open arms. What a wonderful truth to dwell on. The jubilation we felt yesterday when our dear boy returned to us was lovely. His dad swept him into his arms and held him tightly, for a long while, kissing him and telling him how much he loved him. And we forget that this is how our Heavenly Father looks at us. He is waiting, watching from far off, yearning for us to repent and return to Him, after even one day. He is ready to pick us up and spin us around and hug us and kiss us and tell us how much He loves us.

Q&A

Any one of our past lodgers would say that they have heard unique phrases and questions living under our roof. The boys do tend to ask and do the funniest things. One of my boys stood in the kitchen last week, with nothing but gloves and socks on. One of those moments where as a mum you want to ask "Why?", but you know there is no answer.

I've been asked many wonderful questions by the boys, like 'Why haven't you got a willy yet mummy?', and 'If Aslan took his hood off, would he really be Scooby do?'  A friend of mine got asked if her boobies were her boobies and could they be touched? And the husband got the classic, 'Daddy, why is that cow giving that other cow a piggy back ride?' There is definitely a temptation to not answer them sometimes, or not go into great detail. But we encourage their questions, and answer them truthfully (for their age and understanding) because we want them to know that they can ask us absolutely anything, and that we will be honest in our reply. I love that I can come to God with all my questions too; the intriguing ones and the doubting ones, and He loves to answer me with His truth.

There are some questions which are a sheer joy to answer. The ones which just seem to melt a mother's heart. I was asked one of these questions recently by my four year old;
"Mum, where did God get the instructions to make me?"

Ah what a beautiful question. And what a delight to be able to give him my answer. I explained that God just thought about him right from the beginning. He knew exactly who my boy was going to be. He knew that my boy would be jumpy and smiley, feisty and funny. He knew all about his hair and his eyes. He knew all about his character and his love of putting socks on his hands. He even knew he would stand in my kitchen a little under dressed. God just knew of him, before he was even a thought in my mind. God simply didn't need instructions. I read him Psalm 139 and told him that God always knew exactly what He was doing when he made him.

"You created every part of me;
you put me together in my mother's womb.
  I praise you because you are to be feared;
all you do is strange and wonderful.
  I know it with all my heart.
When my bones were being formed,
  carefully put together in my mother's womb,
when I was growing there in secret,
  you knew that I was there
you saw me before I was born." Psalm 139v13-16

I Can Do It By Myself

Dear God,

I am sorry for

Raising my voice at the kids

and

Sighing about the husband working late

and

Putting my needs above his

and

Using a disrespectful tone

and

Serving the family begrudgingly

and

Wishing they'd appreciate me more

and

Shouting and snapping

and

Being impatient with people

and

Putting my needs above theirs

and

Moaning and complaining

and

Not bearing any good fruit

and

Not getting up early to read your word

and

Being too busy to pray

Actually God,

Please forgive me for

Thinking I can do all the above without you

and

Do it all in my own strength

and

For being self sufficient

and

Too proud to ask you for help

and

For not reading your word

and

Not seeking your will

and

Not trusting you

and

Not spending time with you

Amen

"Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace,

that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

Hebrews 4v16

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

Psalm 91v1

The Life Of a Dishcloth (Part Two)

So now I have this daily reminder that the life of a dishcloth is not dissimilar to my own life; the clean ups, the dryness at times, the smell and the daily soakings. It got me thinking even more about the dishcloth. I guess when you spend a lot of time with the same object, such as the time I spend with my dishcloth, you start to bond....Who knows tomorrow's blog may be about the hoover!

Anyway, I felt God remind me of another cloth which was in the kitchen drawer; 
a new, pretty, flowery cloth!
I knew that God was telling me that He doesn't look at me and see a dirty, stained, smelly cloth. That's what I once was before I knew Jesus. Before He had redeemed me, and in fact when He met me, I was dirty, I was stained and I carried the stench of sin on me. I was less like a dishcloth and more like an gross old rag. That's what sin looks like. And no amount of cleaning that rag in my own strength, with my own methods would make it anywhere near clean. In the same way that  when my son took a sip of bleach, he was actually no cleaner. (He just smelt like a swimming pool and the A&E nurse sent us back home!)

But when Jesus died on the cross, He took all the dirt, the stains, the stench and put them all on Him. They died with Him and in return, I got His beauty and His Righteousness. He took a dirty old rag and replaced it with a beautiful, clean, stain free, flowery, unused cloth, in really loose analogy terms of course! He never sees me like my dishcloth on it's worst days, He sees me as a completely new creation. Not a better version of the old, but something completely new. What an identity!

In order to remain in the truth of this identity, I still need to soak in God's presence, His truth, His word. Otherwise I will start to see myself as the old rag again and that's just not who I am. The times when I feel like that old, stained rag, or yesterday's dishcloth, are the times I have let myself dry out on the side, rather than soak in the truth of what Jesus has done for me and the truth of who I am in Him. Ah how the life of a dishcloth can mirror my life indeed!

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation;
        the old has gone, the new has come!"
                                                                 2Corinthians 5v17

The Life Of a Dishcloth (Part One)

Last Sunday at church, one of the elders had a picture of a dried up dish cloth. He said that God had shown him a picture of a cloth on the side of a sink, which was dry and really in need of getting in the water. 
I thought of the cloth which lives on the side of my sink, at home. It does get used quite a lot; slaving away at the plates and mugs and saucepans, wiping the table after breakfast, lunch and dinner, clearing up spills of milk, juice and coffee.

The life of a mother and the life of a dishcloth are closely intertwined it seems. The dish cloth can look quite tired and worn out. Yep, that sounded like me that day. The dish cloth can become easily stained as it delves into whatever mess it has to clear up. Yep, me again. Sometimes I look at my clothes at the end of the day and I can't even name what it is that has found it's way onto me. (The worst of these moments is when there is no time to change and we're out at a church meeting or guests arrive for dinner!) The dish cloth can even start to smell a bit, that slightly stagnant smell. Ditto! Ah how the life of a dishcloth can mirror my life indeed! I was feeling all washed up on the side of the sink of life.The every day jobs, (which I'd started seeing as chores) of being a mum and a wife had left me feeling washed up, dried up, stained, over used and possibly verging on smelling quite bad too! Was God really telling an elder at church that I was in need of a shower?

I knew that the cloth on the side of my sink was in desperate need of a soaking. In it's dried up state it was of no use to anyone. It needed to soak in hot, soapy water, washing powder and even bleach. Thankfully God wasn't telling me publicly that I needed to have a shower, but instead that I needed a good soak. So I told the elder that I was indeed the dishcloth, and He and some female friends prayed for me. My Heavenly Father was gently reminding me yet again to come into His loving arms and soak in Him. I humbly came into His presence and asked Him to revive and refresh this worn out, tired and stained old dish cloth. In my dried up state, I too was of no use to anyone. I realised that 'serving' only feels like chores when I'm not soaking in God. Stains only feel permanent when I'm not soaking in the truth of being washed clean. Feeling tired and worn out just remain the same, unless I jump into Living Water. And even that  unpleasant stagnant smell only leaves with a good soak in Radox. Now when I look at the dish cloth on the side of the sink, I do smile at the life that it has, and the reminder that it holds for me.

"Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out,

that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,"

                                                                                  Acts 3v19

I reckon there is more to say on The Life Of a Dishcloth.

Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire

Today my son lied to me. One of those 'little' lies. He said a no when he should have said a yes. When I asked him why? He shrugged. He wasnt sure, it just happened, he just didn't want to get in trouble.

Yesterday I lied to a mum on the school run. One of those 'little' lies. I said a yes when I should have said a no. I asked myself why? I shrugged. I wasn't sure, it just happened, I just wanted her to like me.

Why did we lie? Because we both feared man, more than we feared God. My son feared a telling off, so he quickly lied. And I feared the mum's rejection, so I quickly lied. If we had both feared God, we wouldn't have worried what man thought. We would have cared what God thought, and we would have told the truth! We would have both realised that a 'little' lie, is a lie. A lie is a sin. And God hates sin.

My son was disciplined because he had lied to me. And he had to say sorry, but was quickly forgiven. I humbly had to tell the mum I had lied to her, but was quickly 'let off' (as opposed to forgiven). And I had to say sorry to God, because the sin was actually against Him. Thankfully, I was quickly forgiven.

"Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being,
and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart."

                                                      Psalm 51v6