I walk by faith

For we walk by faith, not by sight. 2 Cor. 5:7

I say I walk by faith, but I wonder if I really do. I love it when I have proof of God's plan. When I don't have proof, I often find myself working hard to figure it out. You know, I walk by intellectualization. Hmm... It doesn't sound quite the same.

Yet, if I'm honest, it's the way I work. Not that I want to. In fact, I fight it all the time. I want to trust God and go places I'd never dream of on my own. He says, "For I know the plans I have for you... plans to prosper you... plans to give you hope and a future." (Jer. 29:11). Why, then, do I fight it? Why do I struggle for control over my world?

With Ben's diagnosis, I devoured books hoping to understand it and overcome it. With Ellie's differences, I can sometimes agonize over every moment of her day, watching for signs of struggle and disintegration. My friends are chiming in with "amens" all over the country... and they probably could give you a list a mile long of other "controlling" moments. They're not exaggerating.

It's hard to go God's way. I just read The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom with my son. Corrie lived in Holland during World War II. A lifelong Christian, safe from Nazi harm, she chose to offer her home to hide and protect Jewish people from persecution. She ends up being sent to the concentration camp in place of the Jews hiding in her home. I read the book long ago, but not as a "mature" (I use that term loosely) Christian. When I read it as a teen, I couldn't fathom the depth of Jesus' love -- which shines through Corrie and Betsie. I couldn't understand faith as my source of strength -- as the believers in the "underground" did throughout the war. The lessons were too deep.

Reading the book with my son, I am challenged to look at my own faith walk. Would I survive life in a concentration camp? I don't think so... and I hope never to find out. But as Corrie (really her father) points out, we don't need to know the strength we'll need one day. We just need to know that God gives us strength for today.

Today, I fall on my knees asking God for the wisdom to know how to school my son. How to inspire my daughter to be respectful -- and act a bit less often on her impulses. How to encourage and guide my eldest so he ends up where God wants him (not where I think he should be). I don't want worldly wisdom. I want His wisdom. His plan. His way.

I'm not expecting to enjoy every day. Certainly, Corrie and her sister, Betsie, didn't enjoy starvation, flea infested bedding or grueling days of hard labor. Yet, God's love shined through them. If I thank God for the opportunities He provides, even on my "hard days," His love will shine through me too. I can thank Him that I get to discipline my kids in His love. I can thank God that I get to wash the mounds of laundry since that means I have healthy kids who actually dirty their clothes in play. I can thank God that I get to cook dinner from a pantry full of options to eat each day, no matter how "boring" I might think our menu is. Every day, God gives me the opportunity to share His grace, His love, His mercy, His tender care and concern.

Think about your "get to's." Have you faced a mountain you thought you could never climb? Perhaps you lost a spouse or a child before you expected to. Maybe you face challenges in work or finances that this economy seems to be hitting everyone with. Or maybe you face obstacles in ministry or service that you didn't expect. Wherever you are in life, do you trust that God is big enough, cares enough, loves enough, has strength enough to pull you through?

Thank Him for giving you the chance to climb, stretch and grow. Thank Him for the opportunity to share His love wherever He has planted you in this world. Praise Him for now and trust that now is preparing you for an incredible tomorrow. Don't look too far down the road, just look at today. Thank Him for the strength for this one day.

Corrie ten Boom was just a spinster watchmaker who loved her family. That love spilled over to touch millions of people across the world. She learned "the blessing of the fleas" (as my son calls it), realizing that the fleas kept the guards out of her bunkhouse so that the gospel could be freely shared there. She found strength to love her enemies as God would, forgiving them for the atrocities she lived firsthand. God's got that same strength for you. And for me.

Let's live with grateful hearts and trust God with the hurts. Let's walk by faith and stop trying to understand it all.

New Life

Hey friends,

A few days ago, a sweet baby girl was born to friends of ours. Their pregnancy had its ups and downs and ups and downs. Family and friends prayed for her -- and them -- for months. I was out of town when she was born and had to wait three whole days to meet her. She's everything we prayed for: healthy! And she's beautiful, snuggly, and sweet.

Anticipating her arrival was a big deal for those of us who know her family. We waited. We planned. We celebrated. We prayed. We loved her before ever knowing her... and I'm just a friend to this special family.

This love for someone so new and special leads me to wonder about Jesus. How did His mom feel as she waited. And planned. And prayed. For Him. Who loved Him before ever knowing Him?

Two thousand years later... Christmas is fast approaching (less than 90 days, but please don't wig out about the shopping you need to start). Do you wait on Jesus? Do you wonder at the miracles He performed? Or that He still performs in us and through us to this day? Do you love Him even though you can't see Him? Is He a friend to you? Is He more than a friend? Is He your savior?

The anticipation of new life is such a gift, but it goes beyond the child. It's a reminder to us all to remember the gift of new life we are given. Take a minute to thank Jesus for the life He's given you. Thank Him for the second chance. Remember how you felt when you first asked Him into your heart!

Praying today for sweet Hartley Grace. May God bless her life as He watched over her arrival. May her parents be filled with love, wisdom and passion to raise her Your way.
Amen

Memorial Box Monday: Out of Egypt

I shared this post many months ago. Tonight, I shared the story with my connect group (my women's small group through church). Our group was looking at the Israelites -- caught between a rock and a hard place, also known as the Red Sea and the Egyptian army. Our leader asked why would God allow them to endure such difficult circumstances so early in their journey. Several months after our daughter came home from China, we went through some difficult circumstances. I found myself questioning if God had selected the right mama for this little one. Through that difficult journey with our daughter (much like the Israelites' journey in the desert), He reminded me how He provided in China. From past faith, He builds greater faith... 

Memorial Box Monday started at "A Place Called Simplicity." A friend of mine introduced me to it last week, and I love it! love it! love it!!! Memorial Box Monday provides an opportunity to remember all the good things God has done. Huge, gigantic things and little things that might seem insignificant. God's word is clear: "Cast every care on Me, for I care for you." (1 Peter 5:7).

Five years ago, on our China trip to bring our little girl home, we hit a snag quite early in the trip. We flew from Raleigh, NC to Minneapolis to Tokyo and then to Shanghai, China. Everything to that point went so well. After spending a short night in Shanghai, we headed back to the airport for our trip to Beijing, where we'd spend three days touring the city before the final leg of our trip and our daughter.

Shanghai's airport, if you've never been, is essentially a gigantic warehouse. HUGE! Bigger than any airport I had ever seen. There were so many ticket counters, we were just overwhelmed. Thankfully, we traveled with a guide. All we had to do was follow her and board the plane.

Nope!

Our family stepped up to the counter, presenting our paperwork so the agent could print our tickets. Rob's ticket printed. Nathan's ticket printed. Ben and I were denied. What???

I wish I could say I suddenly broke into fluent Mandarin and straightened the whole thing out, but no.... This is a God story, not a Karen story. Karen suddenly felt panicked, scared, frustrated, overwhelmed. Our guide was much the same.

She finally decided to take the rest of our group, 23 families in all, to the plane, instructing me to remain in the lobby with Ben. I watched, a bit terrified, as my husband and older son disappeared around the corner headed to our plane. Instantly - though an instant too late - I realized Rob had our passports, my driver's license, and all but $50 U.S. in the travel bag. The enormity of the problem hit me square between the eyes.

Then it got worse. Our older son is the adventurer. He can turn any lemon, even a moldy one, into delicious lemonade. The more thrilling the journey, the better. Ben, sweet son number two, prefers order, calm, and process. I looked into his enormous blue eyes, swimming with fear. I could have fallen in.

My mama instinct kicked in. I dropped to my knees and grabbed both his hands in mine. Looking steadily into his eyes, I said, "Now we pray." I thanked God for getting us safely to China. I praised him for his faithfulness in all things. And I laid our very specific, time-sensitive need at his feet. Amen.

Standing, I took Ben firmly by the hand, leading him back to the ticket counter. As we approached, a woman stepped out of line and approached the counter. She spoke, words I couldn't understand, with emotion and feeling. She pounded the counter. She pointed at the agent and then pointed at me. The ticket agent looked down and she walked away.

Arriving at the counter, the ticket agent pulled two tickets out of the machine. He handed them to me and in broken English, said, "Run."

Grabbing Ben's tiny hand with a death grip, we ran. And ran. And ran. Toward the very last gate in the terminal. Beyond our flight time, we ran. At one point, he stalled. "I can't run anymore. It hurts." Inspired, I exclaimed, "Ben, this is our Amazing Race. We are not going to miss our plane. Now -- let's -- run!"

At the gate, I handed over the tickets. We were escorted to the waiting (I hoped) plane. As we boarded, the passengers, friends and strangers both, erupted in cheers. I erupted in tears. Ben and I collapsed into our giant, leather seats in first class. Cool, huh?

It's been years since that trip. Our family remembers God's faithfulness that day. From ticketless to first class, because some stranger stepped out of line the moment we prayed. God is good!

Into our memorial box, which for now is a simple shoe box, I place a tiny, plastic airplane to remind myself that when I feel small and forgotten, God is just as big as he has always been and will take care of me.