Hope

Authentic Fruit Is What Happens When Parents Pour Into Kids, Creating Spiritual Desperation

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

After gabbing it up with my teenage daughter as they waited in line that day, the stranger grabbed my arm and whispered, “You did a great job with her. She is so kind. Well done, Mama.”

After I picked my ego up off the floor, where it has been the last two decades, trampled by societal expectations for a productive life (Hint – Homeschooling is not a candidate in this employment contest), I pinned my self-esteem back onto my chest, and thought, “Yes! You are right! She IS amazing!”

But the thing is, she didn’t come out of the womb this way

Even after 10,893,231 conversations in which I turned blue in the face and explained how to fit into society (i.e. NOT by wearing pasta in our hair when in a restaurant), she STILL wasn’t that easy to be around.

The POINT is that homeschooled kids are often well-adjusted because:

(1) Parents KNOW what is going on, in terms of that naughty behaviour we would rather not deal with, but that we have to address because we are spending 10,000 minutes (almost all the time) with them again this week,

(2) Parents can’t ship them off on a bus every morning, even BECAUSE they know what is going on (They would say “Thank God” if they would go on a bus SOMETIMES), and,

(3) Parents are confronted day after day, hour after hour, minute after long minute some days with the FACT that they are spending INORDINATE amounts of time with unsanctified humans.

Worse, parents are confronted with the reality of OUR need for sanctification, and this is humiliating for us. So, we run to God and beg for help on our knees BECAUSE we are ALL such desperate losers. But the sweat and tears of our prayers eventually sanctify our kids BECAUSE they receive this message of grace through our lives, as God sanctifies us.

Translation: We ADMIT we parents are losers, and then we gently reveal the truth to our child that she, too, did the wrong thing again when she smacked that kid on the head with her firetruck because she wanted HIS cupcake too.

But this grace in our lives, this deep understanding of our need for forgiveness, softens our speech a little.

do not provoke your children . . . by the way you treat them

Ancient Text

And this broccoli seasoned with the melted cheese of our own desperate need for forgiveness becomes a food our kids can swallow.

And we both grow a little more today, our plant’s roots grasping a little more of the water that truly satisfies, and so fruit in our lives and our kid’s lives will begin to grow.

It’s a law of nature.

So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit.

The Message

And when they compliment you again for having kind kids?

You can sit back, relax, take a sip of a cold summer drink and know that the path of life you chose was a good one, which is bearing fruit in your life, too.

Pick some fruit from the tree of your life and enjoy it today.

Well done, Mom and Dad.

God sees your investment in your kids. His praise that you followed His lead is the food that truly satisfies. Nothing good comes without sweat and handing over our fears to God.

How are you choosing to invest your life?

Overwhelmed? How To Receive Comfort, Guidance, Strength We Need

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She held her head in her hands, tears flowing.

Her child stood next to her. The girl look worried for her mother. She wanted to help.

The girl held a wildflower she had just picked and extended her arm to her mom with this offering.

It was all she had.

The flower drooped in her hand. This child desperately longed for her mother to feel better. Would this flower help, as hope extended from her heart through her arm?

The girl’s dress shone bright, pure, like her unhidden love for her mother.

She didn’t have much to offer. Only a wilted flower and a heart of need and love. Would it be enough?

It was.

The mother wrapped her arms around her daughter, drawing her in close, inhaling the fresh air scent. The aroma of this love strengthened her and gave her the courage to get up, to continue journeying hand in hand with this little one.

And Jesus walked next to them, though he couldn’t be seen.

He spoke to the daughter of ways to love her mother – a gentle touch here, an eye connection there, a wilted flower at the right moment, laughter in her play. And the mother’s heart was strengthened.

And Jesus also spoke to this tired and worn mother, in a whisper, a nudge, urging her to use the language of love that this child could receive – a game here, some good food there, given with eye connection and a silent “I love you.”

The mom’s movements, the swaying of her skirt as she walked, reminded the child that someone more significant, someone with more wisdom, someone who loved deeply, could be trusted to be followed.

The mom remembered this, too. She held Jesus’ hand with her free hand as she journeyed, following the path set before her. Someone else walked with her, had more wisdom than her and loved with a depth that surpassed her strength for love.

And remembering this lightened the load she carried on her back. As she walked, the gentle squeeze from his hand reminded her to turn this way, not that, on the path of life.

Some dangers were avoided, but not all. Some dangers drew her closer to the arms of Jesus as she drew her child next to her. On that scary stormy night outside, they heard the strange animals howling and felt the beating of their hearts.

But their trust grew more robust.

. . . if you’ll only get to know and trust me. Call me and I’ll answer, be at your side in bad times

The Message

When the rain stopped, and they continued their journey together, Jesus spoke wisdom, quietly and inaudibly to this good mother.

And she walked a little further. And her legs grew stronger. And her child’s legs grew stronger and longer, and they walked further than they thought they could.

His love strengthened their hearts and their love for one another.

And walking the path of life got a little easier.

Up for a journey, friend?

He is standing next to you, too, as you cry. Do you need a Kleenex? He is offering you one, too.

Ready for some comfort?

Jesus, may our eyes function with the capacity to see how You are already at work in each of our lives, we pray.

Despairing? Unlikely People Sometimes Carry Startling Crumbs Of Hope

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Why does it always have to start with trust?

Was that a whisper or a nudge from God as we live our lives in the mundane ordinary? Will we listen? He speaks, and it can seem so small and easy to ignore.

Will we obey?

The Father trusts those with big things to those who have been faithful in the small stuff.

Make some for yourself, too, God seemed to whisper to me that day several years ago. God had been nudging me to make fleece pants with my kids and their friends. Now, he seemed to be nudging to make fleece pants for me, too.

So, I was online ordering fleece fabric.

A particular type of fabric seemed to stand out to me as joy bubbled from the inside. I bought the fabric with the golden retrievers stamped all over them (true story). I made my pants.

And now, I will try to convey something challenging to articulate.

These doggy fleece pants are like a key opening a door between another culture and me. Once, someone exclaimed jubilantly that she loved my pants and then recounted a surprising quantity of her life story as I stood listening, stunned and speechless, my to-go coffee cup waiting in my hand mid-air for her to finish. This kind of thing happens often.

It happened today.

The teenage guy working at Tim Horton’s spent five minutes before he took my order telling me he loved my pants, told me a story about his dog, and then spoke with the lady next to him about whether she liked dogs or cats better.

I listened mutely and smiled.

My table was laden with crumbs, so I asked for a napkin to clean it. The young man leaned in to confide that they are understaffed but insisted on cleaning the table for me. As he wiped, he said, “People really surprise me sometimes.”

“How do you mean?” I asked.

He was quiet, so I offered, “You mean how people are always making messes?”

He nodded.

I wondered what I could say in the several seconds left of our interaction that could be like a crumb to feed him just a little. “Well, it’s a good thing that God forgives us after we create our messes.” I looked innocently away, waiting for the metaphor to nourish his soul.

The crumb nourished, and his hunger pangs caused him to sputter forcefully.

“I can’t believe people don’t know I’m a Christian,” he exclaimed. “I don’t smoke.” My brain was overheating as I was trying to deduce the connection between not smoking and being a Christian.

He was in his own world, however, and felt the need, for some reason, to be honest with me, a perfect stranger.

“Well, I do smoke weed.”

Where do we go from here, God? Clearly, he was being nourished, somehow, by the crumbs from Your table. What do I say in the 30 nanoseconds before he departs?

I settled on, “Well, if we can truly understand that God loves us, that’s the important part, right?”

He stared at me, fumbled, and then dropped his cleaning cloth. His hat fell off as he bent over to pick up the fabric. He stared at me a moment before picking that up, too.

He was deep in thought.

Eye contact one more time before he walked away.

Was there a nanosecond of redemption, a glimpse of light lit for a moment, so that You redeemed this ordinary day for the clerk at Tim Horton’s, God? May this generation find messy tables wherever they go, we pray. And may the crumbs somehow, by your grace, be multiplied to nourish the soul.

There is more, there is more, there is more, He is saying to the teenage boy working at Tim Hortons.

I’ll continue this story another time.

Homeschoolers Heal Us By Modelling How To Shake Fear And Blossom

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

We were discussing the more profound things of life, unearthing the cultural assumptions that keep us in bondage.

And this is what she said: “Homeschooling gave me the confidence to try new things.”

She said it matter-of-factly, confidently, as if she believed it. She was homeschooled, and then homeschooled her kids. So she had many years to mull over homeschooling.

I was struck by her confidence and creativity to try new things, but she brushed me off, attributing these traits to being homeschooled. For example, she is a self-taught photographer and took these photos of our daughter, assuring us that her red dress would “pop” in the pictures at this location. She was right.

She explained her homeschooling philosophy to me as her camera clicked, “When you are homeschooled, there aren’t as many kids hovering over you, making fun of you for trying something different. So I felt free to try new things.”

She painted her family’s camping trailer with flowers and a mountain scene and then was commissioned by her city to paint a mural.

“I’m mostly self-taught,” she explains, but she’s having fun, exploring the talents God endowed her with, instead of burying them in fear, as so many of us accidentally do.

“I was afraid I might disappoint you . . .”

(Jesus) was furious. ‘That’s a terrible way to live!”

The Message

But we’d rarely seen another way.

She reminds me of my kids, who are also homeschooled.

For example, today, our family is in Salt Lake City, Utah, attending a “Reborn” doll conference.

Our 15-year-old daughter had the confidence and time to explore the God-given gifts endowed to her, too

Last week, she sold one of her dolls overseas for over $400.

“I didn’t know you could do that!” I exclaimed from my public-schooled worldview.

She didn’t know either.

But she’s not afraid to try.

Our other daughter wrote and self-published a novel by the time she was 15 years old.

What would we do if we weren’t afraid to try?

I would keep writing even though you may laugh at me. How is God calling you to awaken? What do you imagine the next step is on the life adventure He has mapped out for you?

Ready to take another step, friend?

Let’s hold hands because I’m afraid, too.

I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears.

Ancient Text

The definition of courage is NOT “Not being afraid” but “Doing it anyway.”

What is God whispering to you?

What’s the next step?

Let’s go!

He’s waiting.

The Eye-Opening Way To Soar Like A Bird Over The Desert Of A Wasted Life

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I was flying one day, soaring like a bird. I could see for miles around. I could hear God whisper, even though I doubted I heard correctly or well.

He said He was pleased with me.

I had a life the world scrunched up like used paper, ready to toss in the garbage.

But God saw a world of possibilities on the horizon of my life as we soared that day above the clouds.

I had invested my life. I had spent my life, out of the world’s horizon of possibilities, in one tiny area. I had invested most of my health and youthful vitality into two small children.

Homeschool them, He had whispered that day.

And through my tears, and hopes, I obeyed, never imagining how far into the horizon of my life this journey would take me.

And again, He said, year after year.

And when I look back now, with my hurting back of older age and the gray hairs that crown my face, it was a worthless life, one the world throws away.

“Heaven always recognizes the fathers and the mothers who pay the price and create momentum for following generations. Fathers and mothers, in eternity, always receive benefits (if you will) from what their investment provided in future generations . . .

Be willing to be the first in your family to break into something.

Be willing to pay the price to get a breakthrough that the rest of your descendants will benefit from because heaven applauds those whose . . . anointing is less, but they created the momentum so that another generation could inherit it and take it to a place they never had time to go.”

Bill Johnson in The Test For Promotion

“She threw away her talents!” they exclaim. My national government, the university and others had thrown money at me in my youth. “Study and take this valued position,” they offered.

And I did, for a while.

And then I homeschooled my kids for many, many years.

Why?

I don’t know.

I’m following my Saviour, and this is where He led me.

He seems to be leading some others there, too.

I am not a chess player, but only one of His pieces.

I must trust that my life, rightly lived, opens the door to the wind of the spirit of His work in the world.

And where is He leading me next?

It doesn’t matter.

Because in His arms, I can place the stewardship of my life. I feel alive there. I pray for you, too, to be set free from the snares of the approval our society offers, entangled by the search for ever more wealth, when we have enough food for today.

I pray for the strength to invest in little people if He calls you to set aside time for this.

And not everyone is called to homeschool, of course.

But wherever He calls you, I pray you follow.

And in each season of our lives, may we lay down how we thought life would be and pick up the strange reality of His life at work through a group of people ready to join the adventure.

Where is He leading you in this season?

Need some water for the journey? I hold out my canteen to you. And come on, let’s rest in this cabin we stumbled across before we start again, journeying tomorrow.

A little rest will do us good.

“Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest . . . Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

The Message

Have any food to share?

And may you have the strength to journey on again tomorrow, friend.

May the food God sends you be enough for today.

God then told Elijah . . . “You can drink fresh water from the brook; I’ve ordered the ravens to feed you.”

The Message

God, may we be awakened to see with Your eyes we pray.

Despair In Family Relationships? Try Listening To This Astonishing Guy*

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She rejoiced.

It happened!

She danced in the field that summer morning, praising her maker.

What He promised, quietly, with a whisper of love, that He would guide and comfort, HAD materialized.

Here is what happened.

At the women’s gathering that day long, long ago, this good mother poured out her heart to another.

The tears racked her body as she openly shared her fears.

Generational problems pursued her family. Her grandmother, grandfather, father, mother, sister, and auntie bathed in the pool of these problems. None of them had figured out how to get out of this pool, dry off, to dance in that grassy place in freedom.

They all felt like they were drowning instead.

How would her relationship with her daughters differ from what was experienced by every other family member?

The despair of this situation overwhelmed her.

They bowed their heads, these two women, and prayed together that day so many long years ago.

And God spoke, in the recesses of this desperate mother’s heart, a strategy and plan to walk in freedom, step by step, to carve out a new path from the dysfunctional road all her family member walked.

I’ll put it as urgently as I can: You must get along with each other. You must learn to be considerate of one another, cultivating a life in common.

The Message

And she was joined in marriage to a man who also longed to walk a new path, the one that Jesus walked ahead of them and beckoned them to follow.

And they did.

And years later, when their first child leaves home, they look back with a cool drink and remember the pain and branches across the path of the road they followed Jesus on. They remembered their hair and clothes full of the pieces of branches, yet their hearts grew larger each day as they learned, through following Him, how to love a little less selfishly, and pour more of their lives out on the other.

And He healed their union, their diversion from the path the others in their family travelled, with a different destination.

Their relationships with their children were healthy.

Not perfect.

Each member of this small family worked through and argued past, chopped chunks off each other, as a sculptor does to a piece of art.

But their path led to healthier relationships.

This couple celebrated the new lineage of increased unity that bonded their family, as they were all refined by this artist, Jesus.

And they danced together in that grassy meadow, this small family, for something new had risen from the depths into life.

Does anyone dare despise this day of small beginnings?

The Message

Blogpost Footnotes

*Also known as “God”

Value The Comfort Of Fear More Than Freedom?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

That meadow in the sunlight. The place where we dance and feel free. The place outside that smells of wildflowers and the freshest air.

Where is it?

I lost it in the busyness of life.

Instead, I am inside, head down, working on my computer. Was that a rat scurrying in the distance? I didn’t have as much weekend time to deep clean as I would have liked.

Where did my dream of what life was supposed to be like vanish?

I live in this tiny apartment created by my fear.

What if?

I don’t have time to wander outside with my backpack, eating the apple I distractedly packed along the way. How can we stumble upon life’s meadows if we don’t have time to look for them? What does it look like for my eyes to search the most distant horizon?

I forgot.

Jesus opens the door in this stuffy room. The open door beckons me outside. Come for a walk with me, He offers.

And the pile of to-dos stays on the desk as I walk and then run outside with my friend, Jesus.

My legs felt weak, and I stumbled as I laughed, breaking into to run.

I haven’t used my legs for a while.

All that sitting and worrying has caused my muscles to atrophy a bit.

But as I run with Jesus in that place of rest, I feel my legs, arms and lungs growing more robust.

The Lord replied, “I will personally go with you . . . and I will give you rest

Ancient Text

I can see further when He beckons me to look at the far, far distant horizons. My eyes hurt from the strain. I hadn’t lifted my vision beyond my overwhelming concerns for a while.

I can sense my muscles are more substantial, my bones sturdier, my thoughts sharper. I feel more like the human I am meant to be after spending time in the spiritual clouds.

And it’s going to be okay.

Because when I walk, hand in hand, back to that tiny apartment with Jesus, he holds a button attached to a long cord that snakes to my apartment. The button can ignite the fuse attached to the dynamite that explodes the tiny apartment I used to live in, the one confining me by my fears.

It’s not that my fears have left me but that I have left them.

Jesus gives me enough food for today to live in freedom.

And I’m snatching up this food and eating my fill.

I’d rather fly.

You?

Don’t Attend Church Looking Bad – How To Look Good!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

As you know or can presume from the style and classiness of these posts, I have excellent taste.

Ahem.

And I hesitate to point out, most reluctantly, that in this post, the exact BRANDS and style of clothing I was wearing were noted for interested readers! (I mention that cautiously and with true humility, of course.) In this post, I describe the fancy hat collection I am developing for use in my old age.

So yes!

I CAN EASILY advise on how to look good!

So, HOW do we look VERY GOOD at church, you ask? Great question! I’m SO glad you asked! Ahem!

First, set aside your pride and go ahead and have a big ‘ol ugly cry at church. Seriously! I describe my own (rare) undignified moment here.

You’re welcome.

But wait, wait, you ask, “How does ugly crying make us look good?” It seems the opposite would be true! You hang on my every word, waiting to discover how to lock and seal this seemingly disparent advice into a philosophically coherent indisputable argument.

I’ll explain.

The more we air our neuroses (sorry for the analogy, but it’s like flatulence), the less we smell bad! Seriously! Now, you know that I never even like to MENTION the word flatulence, as described here. However, the analogy fits SO perfectly.

When we hold in, er- what SHOULD be aired – the inside of us smells terrible, though the outside has no odour. Okay, this analogy MAY be breaking down a bit, but you get my point, I think? If we HOLD IN our neuroses, and pretend everything is okay when it isn’t, the inner neuroses pick away at us, and the rotten stench that all of us carry around with us festers there, though often we are the only ones who can smell it.

(If you think you always smell good, have you ever wondered – “AH! What IS the meaning of my life?” – JUST before you fall asleep? If so, that’s a case in point. You are more messed up than you let on, too!)

So, let out the uglies! A little cry at church is just the thing. You’ll find that people who love you bring you a Kleenex and a pat on the shoulder.

They may not be able to help you much, but they genuinely want to, which counts for something.

You see, at church, God COMMANDS others to love you. Now, granted, NONE of us are that good at loving others, but some have figured out how to channel a morsel of God’s love for us through their arms into compassion.

These are the people we can be honest with, and -no surprises here – they have already taken their turn in the ugly seat.

They are not surprised by your big cry!

And somehow, expressing what we feel is enough to keep the evil dragon at bay for a while.

Knowing that someone is praying for us helps too.

Add a little time with the Father to ask Him a bit more about WHY we were neurotic freaks at church last week and He gives us the Kleenex that is the softest kind that dries all of our tears because His Kleenex is fragranced with hope.

At church, they will read to you from a book, and it may say something like this:

For everyone. . . fall[s] short of God’s glorious standard.

Ancient Text

And this will put a bounce in our step and hope in our hearts.

We’re not as neurotic as we thought!

Well, we are if we dig deeper, but that’s for next Sunday.

The point is, we’re not sucking in our guts anymore, pretending our way through life.

‘May it be the real I who speaks. May it be the real Thou that I speak to.’

CS Lewis – Letters to Malcolm

Whatever we bring to the light can be healed.

Whatever we hide infects us, rotting away at our insides.

So let’s let our neuroses out!

And maybe after we’ve let out some of the uglies, we may shift the direction of the ship we are sailing a little closer to true north.

And as we go about our week, we’ll find we are starting to smell better!

We’ll look better, too, through God’s eyes.

When Seeking a Simple U-Turn From Drowning To Delight

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Homeward Bound, Again

A cacophony

My head explodes from the noise

Quiet!

The mundane and the repetitive and the

Scrambling over one another

The pressing down of the other

Must STOP

At last

It is quiet

My boots crunch the spring needles

And I finally feel peace

Alive

Look!

A spring visitor with her mate

Chirping at us, welcoming us to

Our own home

A home we forgot to visit

“Come hither!” she beckons

We remember our true home

And journey deeper

Into the forest

Your heart and mine

Beat as one now

I left my idols at home

My schedule

My dominion

My distractions

My crutches

I am a vulnerable beast

Among others

Walking

Remembering my true home

You

Guide me

Comfort me

Show me what you see

Give me a glimpse through

Your telescope

Of the distant mountains

Snow melting

Rivers filling

It is spring

Get ready

Forget about what’s happened;
    don’t keep going over old history.
Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.
    It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?

(Says God) in The Message

Know This About The Challenge Of Annoying People To Avoid Being Derailed Finding God

/ Lori Lawe / 4 Comments

We take libraries for granted.

But think about it for a minute with me for illustration.

So we excitedly sign up for a library card, rubbing our hands with glee. We think, “I am now a MEMBER of a special COMMUNITY!” These people will give us access to tons and tons of books!!

At your request, they will order what they don’t have in the vast building of books from another library.

OH! All of these books are FREE to read and borrow. Who WOULDN’T be excited to be a member of said community?

(Besides people who don’t like books but stay with me for illustrative purposes.)

So we rub our hands with glee, excitedly awaiting a moment to sit in a corner with our favourite snack and a travel adventure.

“Are you a member of the LIBRARY COMMUNITY,” we are asked. We are annoyed. We want to enjoy our free book, which we borrowed from the LIBRARY.

“Sure,” we say, returning to our snack and the next paragraph.

“Oh.” The person nods assent and then sits cross-legged, cross-eyed, cross-limbed, and sticks out their tongue in a strange pose.

We are not interested in this behaviour because we want to return to page 4 of our book.

Then another person, and another, joins the first person, sitting next to them, adopting the same pose, staring cross-eyed at each other.

“Um – what are you doing?” we reluctantly ask.

“Oh, this is what we do at the library,” the person calmly states. She goes back to her pose.

WHAT??? Now, we are baffled, and we have one of three choices.

1. Renounce our library cards. These people are crazy! Of course, we also lose the privileges of ALL those free books . . . OR

2. Stay at the library and join them in the weird poses. After all, it’s only a tiny amount of time, and there are ALL those free books . . . OR

3. This is my recommended choice: We MAINTAIN our library membership, but clearly state that we will not join in the weird cross-eyed poses.

And what is the point of this entire post?

1. A library membership is like belonging to a church.

2. The weird poses are like some aspects of church culture.

3. Do we give up the church simply because a few weird-os are doing a bunch of strange poses – or otherwise having some sub-culture that has NOTHING to do with reading books or, in the case in point, with Jesus?

No.

That’s the answer.

So, let’s fight past the people on the front lawn standing with one leg up and posing in strange ways. Let’s fight past the person wearing a pink unicorn suit.

No – wait – that person is me, and I am reading a book and waiting for you. Unicorn suits are cool.

But don’t let them ruin your enjoyment of reading great books, or – SURPRISE! – of finding Jesus behind that huge library bookshelf. He offers you a hug.

He’s so glad you made it.