Paralyzed by fear

Have you ever been so fearful of something that the mere thought of it took your breath away? A wave of anxiety would consume you as you pondered its terror? 

When I was young, I was absolutely convinced that childbirth had to be the most wretched pain ever. I resolved I would simply remain without children. I was, well...wrong.

One of my children has a pathological fear of violent death. Think terrorists barging into our home to wake us from our sleep and torture us before shooting us all one by one. This has been ongoing since first grade, when history somehow demanded that the events of 9/11 be unraveled in an elementary classroom. 

No scripture or prayer has been able to fully undo the fear in my child. Though I hope in time, it will fade away. 

Maybe you fear death, or public speaking, or pain, or public humiliation, or something else entirely. 

Did you know God really and truly wants to take away your fear? His word says “There is no fear in love. Perfect love casts out fear.” (1 John 4:18) 

That doesn’t mean if you’re a believer the fear simply goes away. Because the devil is the one who holds the power of death, the battle is with him. For some, it is a constant battle because naturally as you draw nearer to God, the enemy is closer still, breathing down your neck. 

But there's a truth you can and should hang onto. The reality is one act of love canceled out this power. Perfect love. No other kind would do.

Hebrews 2:14b-15 says “by (Jesus’) death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death — that is, the devil — and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.” 

My grandpa died about 10 years ago. It was a beautiful thing, which sounds strange, but bear with me to understand why his death was truly like a fairy tale.  

He was terrified of dying, but only recently. I had visited him not long before in his new home — an apartment in an assisted living facility. He moved there because he had fallen in his new house. 

As I visited, he relayed the story to me. He was trapped on top of his own arm. Seconds turned into minutes turned into hours. He was not only physically stuck, his mind and emotions were trapped on a single thought planted there by the enemy: You will die as you suffer in pain on top of your own arm unable to move. Your death will be slow and agonizing, as you starve unnoticed and unknown in this world. Satan is so convincing!

But God is more powerful still! A prayer saved his life then. He prayed that God would give him supernatural strength to rise up and call 911, and God answered that prayer. But my grandpa, with tears in his eyes, told me he was now scared of death because of the pain he experienced. I hugged him and comforted him as best I could, mind you this was all before I was born again in Christ. 

Not long after that, we went to Branson for a family reunion. Grandpa grew up nearby — one of 11 children — living in the hills of Missouri with no electricity or indoor plumbing. He was reunited for a week with all of his living siblings, and spent time with most of his children and grandchildren and even some great-grandchildren. Then we all kissed him good-bye, and just down the road he had a heart attack at the gas station five minutes after I kissed him  in the back seat of my cousin’s car. 

He was surrounded by love in his last moments, and his death was very fast and pain-free.

I believe he is in heaven now, celebrating yet another answered prayer. 

You see, perfect love experiences the fear on our behalf. Christ suffered in death so that you don’t have to. To make atonement for our sins, He suffered as a man of flesh and blood to “taste death for everyone.” Hebrews 2:9

So next time you find yourself overcome by a wave of terror or anxiety, instead of letting it knock you to the ground, say a prayer and ask God to help you remain steadfast. Open Hebrews 2 and be encouraged by these words. “Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted,” from verse 18.

Whose story will you be responsible for telling?

     It's amazing what you can find on Google. 
     I watched a girl's "story" unfold on Saturday night at the Edward Jones Dome, the $280 million stadium where the St. Louis Rams play football. 
     The display of sexuality left me speechless, which isn't easy. 
     First, it was literally IMPOSSIBLE not to notice the video. All four 8- and 9-year-old boys sitting between my husband and I could hardly take their eyes off the screen all night. They are boys. They LOVE screens. It was the first thing one of them noticed when we sat down. 
      Using Google, I learned that Edward Jones Dome's JumboTron is a Sony (there are two), standing 20 feet high and 26 feet wide. The system is big, colorful and LOUD. And the videos are extremely professionally executed to grab and keep your attention.
      It was there that I watched one of the 28 Rams' cheerleaders tell her "story." The series of videos on the cheerleaders is called "Meet _______ (fill in girl's name)." 
      This is what I learned in the video: Her name and where she goes to school. Plus, how she felt about the location and suit she wore in the calendar photo shoot. 
      What I saw was this: A TON of skin, cleavage and more of a girl than ought to be seen at a "family-friendly" football game. In fact, her suit was skin-colored on the top with a bit of red fringe. So it actually looked from a distance like she was topless. From poses to clothing (there was some footage of the cheerleaders helping rebuild homes in Oklahoma, wearing next to nothing there, too), it appeared she was "offering" herself to the viewer. It was INCREDIBLY sexual. I hesitate to describe more, because it's not appropriate even to write about, let alone see! This short clip was nothing short of soft-core porn. 
      It made me sad for my children — both my son and daughter — because it's such a mangled mess of messages they have to sift through in their generation to avoid being contaminated by the lies we are fed by the media. Pornography addiction will grow, relationships will be damaged, girls and boys will be broken. 
      I also felt sad for the girl in the video, because I am sure her story is more interesting than her body. But the 33,000+ fans there on Saturday will never know it, nor will the others who see her video online. She is simply portrayed to be enjoyed. A thing. An object.
      I went online and viewed a couple others to see if this was the exception. In one case, the viewer doesn't even hear the girl's voice in the first 20 seconds of her two-minute video. It's just images. Then I clicked on the 22-minute video featuring one of the football players. His story, his voice comes on immediately. And he's not talking about how he feels about his uniform or a photo shoot. 
      I wasn't sure if I was more angry or sad. Both probably. Sickened for sure. Perfectly convicted that we would never take our son to another pro football game (I sure hope there won't ever be cheerleaders at baseball games!!). 
      The thought struck me...I wonder if this girl, or so many other girls know they are being reduced to men's "playthings" and fantasies right in the presence of women and children. (Please don't be haters of girls who participate in this behavior...many are so broken and confused by the world we live in!) So many girls fall for the lie that all that really matters is her exterior shell. So many have been taught to believe that their story is their physical appearance. So many are crushed by expectations that can never be. The reality is that most girls' bodies were never designed to look or move or pose in these impossible ways because it was never the intent of the Creator who lovingly made them to be more than the sum of their outside parts. (Psalm 139)
      It made me sad that in our world, in less than three minutes, more than 30,000 people heard THIS story. And not the stories of Morgan, Amanda, Gabby, Rachel, Breanna, Deanna and Madeline — a few of the girls whose stories are featured in the next issue of Mighty Strong Girls magazine. They aren't soundbites. They aren't objects. They are real girls with real aspirations and dreams. They are girls who already accomplished great things and are courageously inspiring other girls to do the same by graciously allowing me and the writers of Mighty Strong Girls to share their stories with anyone who is willing to hear! 
      In my humble opinion, there isn't a JumboTron big enough to feature their awesomeness. The reality is we struggle to get a few hundred copies of the magazine printed to celebrate this kind of story. Meanwhile, I cannot fathom the amount of money that goes into the wardrobe, photo shoots and video production for these 28 cheerleaders. To sell sex. 
      I was reassured yet again that God is on my side this morning. We know the growth of Mighty Strong Girls will be slow. We know it will be challenging. But we know it's God's will. (Among the verses I received this morning was Zecharaih 4:10, which says "Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.")
      I also have hope because amid the terrible mangled mess of brokenness are hearts that seek something more, something meaningful. I am so hopeful for my children's generation, that they will be the ones to become seekers — looking for the truths that only God can provide and spreading that hope like wildfire! 
      Right now, Mighty Strong Girls is still $554 away from being able to publish a small number of magazines for our Sept. 5 event where we will unveil the cover of our back-to-school issue of Mighty Strong Girls. We have a week of prayer to let God work on providing this amount!
      My board has lovingly decided that if the money isn't in the account, the magazine isn't printed. They won't let me and my family incur more debt. And while we have enough monthly supporters to print the magazine, we also have other expenses like mileage, computer cartridges, postage, software, website upkeep. So we still need funds. $554 will allow us to print 150 copies; $774 will allow us to print 200 copies. 
      Can you help us? Even if you cannot give, you can help! Pray that God will provide this week so we can share wholesome, empowering girl stories to help rise up a confident generation of seekers. Pray for the work of Mighty Strong Girls. And pray for girls who don't know their value, that they would be convicted about the TRUTH of their beauty and worth. 
     If you can take a few minutes, meditate on the scriptures and prayer sent in the devotion that came from our prayer intercessor Linda O'Toole this morning: 
     Isaiah 41:10Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxious, look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand..

     Isaiah 41:13For I am the LORD your God, who upholds your right hand, Who says to you, 'Do not fear, I will help you.'

     Isaiah 54:4Fear not, for you will not be put to shame; Neither feel humiliated, for you will not be disgraced; But you will forget the shame of your youth, And the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.

     Deuteronomy 31:6Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid or tremble at them, for the LORD your God is the one who goes with you. He will not fail you or forsake you.

     A mighty roar is being released!

     Let this company of strong women with integrity and love be released Lord, in Jesus name.

How God changed my perspective in 2012

By all accounts, the year 2012 stunk. 

* My husband started the first three weeks of the year jobless due to a severe illness. 
* I lost my $55,000-a-year job.
* I apparently lost most of my photography clients and had maybe a half dozen paying photo jobs. 
* I got called to go to Africa with no feasible way to pay for it.
* My new job pays $375 a month, before taxes. 
* We are back in debt. 
* Dan's back went out ... again. 
* We plunked more than $4,000 into the Jeep and got a car payment. 
* The washer and dryer broke. 
* My new ministry put us $3,000 further into debt. 

That's kind of depressing looking, isn't it? 

Some days, I must admit I let it get to me. Making me bitter and sullen. And that's not OK. It's a sin, in fact, as James 1:2 says I must consider it JOY when faced with trials of many kinds. Why? Because when I do, I get the promise that my faith will develop perseverance — which will make me whole. I often quote this scripture to others, and yet there were certainly days I didn't trust in God through the trials, so as I reflect on the last year, I will do so with JOY! 

Let's look at that list again: 
* Dan survived an illness that could have killed him. Praise God!
* The whole experience put me in a reflective, mortality state of mind. Which made me review my life priorities and seek God's will for my life instead. I would step onto the path to wisdom and happiness. Praise God!
* My trip to Africa was FULLY covered with enough left over to pay for brochures and 6-foot vinyl signs for my missionary friends. Praise God!
* I had just enough clients to pay the bills every month — each one arriving in God's perfect timing. Praise God!
* I got a teaching job at Benedictine that put me in contact with amazing students. Two are doing work for Mighty Strong Girls. Praise God!
* We live in a country where we can secure a loan if need be. Praise God!
* Friends interceded in prayer on behalf of Dan's back, and he was able to connect emotional/mental stress to physical stress. Once he addressed unforgiveness, his back was healed without medical intervention. Praise God!
* We were able to get a safe and comfortable vehicle for our family. Praise God!
* We got a beautiful new washer and dryer, and I got to teach my daughter how to hang clothes out to dry on a line in the winter, which she found terribly exciting and was thankfully limited to three loads of laundry. Praise God! 
* I started Mighty Strong Girls. I suspect my life will be forever blessed because of it. I am so excited to see how God uses this ministry to bring teen girls closer to Him. Better yet, I learned how to listen to God and obey His call on my life. It's totally scary and humbling and amazing to be a part of His story! Praise God! 

I pray that 2013 is as equally fulfilling as 2012! And I pray you, too, will prosper and live for Him in the coming year! 

{Hugs} 
Amy

Hanging out in the waiting room

Romans 5:3-5 (The Message)
There's more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we're hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we're never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary—we can't round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!


Have you ever arrived for a doctor appointment only to find the waiting room brimming with people and illness? Naturally it's a day when your to-do list is longer than your weekly grocery list. And you can just feel your teeth gritting and grinding in frustration and annoyance as you sit and stew for minutes, then an hour and you haven't even been called back yet. "What the...."





What if you instead turned your entire perspective around. You walk in and excitedly realize you might get a whole hour -- to pray, read your Bible, meditate. What a gift from God that you can set everything aside and focus on him and what really matters most. Passionately patient!


Right now, I'm in one of life's waiting rooms. God called me to leave my full-time job with nothing lined up to replace lost income and help pay our mounting medical debts. Then he called me to go to Africa without even a dollar to finance my own trip. Why would he do this? Why am I still sitting here jobless? 


It would be easy to complain, and don't get me wrong -- I have bad days and get stressed! But God has already shown me he will provide. He DID provide -- every last penny for my mission trip. And while we're not making much headway on medical bills, I was just able to pay all our bills in the third month of me being unemployed with a few odd jobs here and there. 


This, how ever ridiculous it may sound, is my choosing. Yes, I COULD get a job. I am perfectly capable. But when I prayed in January that I would surrender myself to God's will, I made a commitment that I would have faith and let him worry about the details. Sound nuts? We're such control freaks about our lives that it is very, very difficult to walk where he leads! Well, he very clearly led me to Africa and then worked out every last detail. What a faith strengthening exercise that was!


So I'm back in the waiting room, reminding myself not to get frustrated. God has called me again, and I am working toward obedience. Can I follow him in faith without losing hope? Can I shout my praises in worship while hemmed with troubles? I think I MUST, because I promised and he's never let me down yet. And he has a promise, too...that he will show me what to do if I am alert (which is hard to do when I'm annoyed and frustrated!), that I will become virtuous in my waiting, that I will not feel shortchanged and that he will pour generously into my life through the Holy Spirit. 


Wow. Making a choice about how I view my waiting room seems quite easy in light of this! I will wait, excitedly, for him to keep his promises to me!

A little crap helps a garden grow

We all have them -- bad days. Sometimes bad weeks or a string of bad days. Or even just a slump we can't explain, even though we've been in a better mood on a previous "really bad" day. 

I've been kind of slumpy this week -- without much of an explanation. At least not a good one! Abby's on-again, off-again emotional/behavioral highs and lows were affecting me more than her it seemed. She cut a chunk out of her hair; used scissors to carve a divot in her brother's wall (and feeling shame and guilt afterward, "evened" things out by doing the same on her wall!); painted the bottom of spices with blue food color as some kind of torture to me when I took them of the cabinets and got blue all over my hands and couldn't figure out where it had come from; lost a good shoe that we spent 15 minutes looking for and ended up late for camp; wore the same shirt -- dirty -- for three straight days and nights; and other such ADHD-type of impulsiveness that would make this blog too long to read. 

I've been good. No yelling. Lecturing and lots of crying, but no yelling. Grace. Grace. Grace. I'm calling on my "God power" big time; I'm really trying my best to extend grace all over the place! I felt like I was doing good, but the people around me can tell it's bothering me and that I'm not doing the best I can do. I thank God for their accountability and honesty, because they opened me up to hear what God wanted me to experience this morning, and it's too amusing not to share!

Dan is always texting me little "love notes," and while I reply, I rarely initiate. Before you bring out the hate, I have a strict limit on texting on my phone plan. An average of six a day is what I get, and he's a big texter. 

I do love getting his notes, and I started my day on a real "high" after a couple of bad days and wanted to send a quick note to let him know I care. 

"I <3 U!" 

I sent it from the bank parking lot at Bud's corner. And then sixty seconds later, I got stuck behind several big trucks painting the lines on the side of the road. It took me 30 minutes to get to Athens. So much for my productive day I had planned!

Still, I kept a smile on my face. 'Cause that makes everything better, right? 

I needed gas, so I stopped at Casey's. While there, I figured I would fill up the low tire that must have a screw or slow leak that we can't locate because it's been getting low every few days for a couple weeks now. No time or money to deal with it, and air is keeping it at bay. 

I get out and OH MY GOSH!!! I had somehow driven through the white line they painted, and it was splashed up all over and quite high on the passenger side of the Jeep. 

All I could think was that Dan would kill me. Which is humorous, because if you know us then you know I do stupid things all the time like hit the side of the garage with the rear view mirror, run into light poles, hit parked cars, drive through fresh tar that isn't rocked yet. Yet here I am, still alive!

Yes, I've done it all. And every time, I hesitantly pick up the phone to call my husband, hands shaking, tears filling up the corners of my eyes. He knows something is wrong after I've gotten a few words out, and then he yells at me -- for making him think something serious had happened. And replies the same words every single time without fail or hesitation: 

"It's just a car."

My husband. He's so good at GRACE! I need to be more like him to deal with the weeks ahead of Abby off her medication. It WILL be hard. It WILL be frustrating and taxing and emotional and loooooong. But if I can have grace every time without fail, I've done my job. Because she's already filled with regret, shame and self-hatred when she stumbles. She doesn't need a mom who bends down and shoves her face in it. 

Will you pray for me to find it? I could certainly use all the help I can get!

I had to chuckle as I desperately brainstormed how to get the paint problem fixed because I remembered the text. Holy cow! He would probably think I was buttering him up in preparation for the story of my ignorance! (I might have  started some of my post-accident phone calls with "How much do you love me?")

Thank goodness I didn't need to suck up! Next time you see me in my Jeep, there may be some remnants of white paint on the tires. But the paint job itself looks the same as before -- dull, rusted in spots and dinged up from two kids who play basketball and ride bikes around it. 

Thank God for the high-pressure sprayer (with soap) at the car wash this morning. But before I could clean it off, I would step in manure that had apparently been cleaned off the last vehicle in that bay. In fact, the odor was suffocating, and it was wedged in every crevice of my tires, too. And so here's the crappy part. 

I then laughed out loud. Literally. It's good to laugh on a bad day. Smiling makes everything better....right?

I laughed because I was absolutely where God wanted me -- dripping wet, sweating over my stupidity and covered in poop. How can I grow big and strong without that fertilizer? I so needed God's reminder that no matter how much crap I get myself into he'll always be there for me -- extending grace or putting me in the path of loved ones who give me grace and giving me the power of poop. 


I needed to be filled with that grace, love and faith today! I am constantly awed at how he can take lemons and make lemonade and teach me to do the same! 

Thankful for my man of courage!

It seemed fitting that on Sunday morning of Father's Day, as I stood brushing my hair and teeth in our (shared) family bathroom, I could hear my husband patiently readying our two children for church. 


For so many dads who wear these three letters -- D-A-D -- more as a title of burden than blessing, Father's Day is a RIGHT...for them to do as they please, to escape from their children or be pampered by them. Not my husband. There were no such expectations in our home. 


My normal morning routine with the kids is very rush-rush as I follow behind them begrudgingly picking up their messes. But Sunday mornings always offer reprieve -- a chance for me to slow down while Dan picks up the slack. 


Unlike me, he offers patient words of encouragement when they resist brushing their teeth and seeks out teachable -- or laughable -- moments in everything. 


That's because, you see, he has expectations. Expectations of who is to be as a dad and expectations for his own children so they will grow up strong in Christ. 


And so when we arrived at church to Katie Ibbotson's powerful message on a father's expectations as part of the sermon, it was a reminder to me. A reminder that our heavenly Father has expectations for ALL of us. Among those expectations are strong, influential, godly dads for our children. 


Make no mistake: This is NOT just a job for men. Women must also ensure our husbands can be the leaders in our homes -- as God designed them to be. 


Turn on your television and you'll see what society expects in a home (if a father is even present!) -- a father figure who is mocked by his family, the butt of all jokes, stripped of his masculinity and nagged like a "dripping faucet" (doesn't that sound like a Proverb!). 


And because Katie said it so eloquently, she was willing to share her words from Sunday. Here's an excerpt:


"What can a father do for his child?? Have EXPECTATIONS! A father who expects from his child, who sets forth these expectations in the lives of his children impacts not only his children but those who are watching. 


"What expectations?! Which expectations?! The written word of our FATHER in Heaven Himself sets forth the expectations of our fathers. In Romans 12:2, we read: 'Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is —his good, pleasing and perfect will.'


"Oh... men of courage... Don’t let Hollywood set forth the expectations for your loved ones. Seek his pleasing and perfect will and find the way to show your children what expectations our Father in Heaven has for a home...your home.... Read HIS word, show them what OUR Father in Heaven expects!"


Two of my favorite "daddy" photos of my man of courage. :) 

How to make the world a better place

When you become a mom or a dad suddenly you perceive all things/people/places differently. The way you view the world is, in fact, altered. You want it to be a place where your child will find peace, compassion, fairness and love. And you don't want it to destroy their innocence. 


The reality is that THE WORLD lets us down over and over again. 


So it's at this time in our lives when our own personal/familial responsibilities are at their peak when we decide it's time to take on the world. We set out to create the answers, if not for ourselves for our children, to the question: "How can we make the world a better place?" As if we weren't busy enough, we find it suddenly realistic to juggle a job, family, the PTA, a church Bible study or two, and youth sports coaching -- at least once a season. 


There, we think. Finally the world is righting itself. But does signing up for every committee, cause or organization really address the root cause that our world is lacking peace, compassion, fairness and love. Does coaching our kids' sports teams help protect their innocence?

Let's go! Listening to God requires action

Lately I've been craving a real stillness in my life. Maybe because as a full-time professional and mother of two very active elementary school children I don't have much of it. Plus, I KNOW God wants me to be still to be able to hear his voice. And I want to be obedient. 

A couple days ago I told my husband that what I want -- all I want -- is to go somewhere (a quiet lakeside, nature preserve or a tropical island -- please?) where I can truly unplug. I've got all these ideas for how to serve God and my family and replace my income. But I want God's blessing. For that, I told Dan, I need to get away -- far away. 

As we talked, I mentioned there was one thing I really want to do -- a fire in my belly -- but it seems the most unlikely of all. People would really (as if they aren't already) think I've lost my mind. He suggested that the fire in my belly might be God's doing. It was a revelation of sorts. 

We continued talking and I began to feel silly. I realized that if I can't learn to be still right where I am, I won't be able to hear his voice on my everyday walk. Yes, Jesus went off for 40 days for the biggest transition in his earthly life. It took him 40 days in the word, in prayer with God and no distractions to prepare for just a few years in ministry. The most three important years for the lives of all Christians. 

So, I guess it makes sense that for me to prepare for what's next, I need to be ready. Because really, do we give God this kind of time when we approach these big decisions in life? Do we allow him to fill us up with scripture and guidance? I admit, it probably won't require a tropical island, but I must learn to commit myself to him in meditation, prayer and solitude not just now but always. 

The truth, however, is that I don't even know what's next. I admit, I was kind of hoping that some time alone with him will include the neon flashing billboard-size sign with instructions on what to do with my grown-up mom-size life. 

It occurred to me that I'm putting a lot of burden on God. Not that he can't handle it, but he also expects me to meet him halfway. 

Jesus knew when he met with God in the desert what was coming next. But he didn't just commit himself during this period; it was the beginning of a deeper, richer relationship that guided him in all the challenges and trials that his ministry would include. They met daily and often for long periods. 

Psalm 143:8

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life. 

I read this verse. And read it again. And again. Read carefully, it's clear it requires ACTION. I can't stand idly by and expect God to do all the work. I must make a deliberate choice to put my trust in him. Not one time -- all the time. See how the scripture begins -- he requires my trust daily, just as I need signs of his enduring love every day. And they are there, when we are open to see them. 

What else does it say? More action. He is showing me the way -- but I need to GO. No more excuses. No more expectations that he do all the work. No more prayers for flashing, neon signs. I must take the path he sets out for me. 

I MUST GO.

And then meet him daily, for choosing to follow him is a commitment that must be renewed often. 

Can you humble yourself?

In Matthew 18:4, Jesus tells his disciples that unless they change and become like little children, they won't enter the kingdom. In verse 4, "Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."


"This child" Jesus refers to must have been something else! There are days I wonder what the Lord would say if he were in our living room, witnessing the bickering and physical warfare my children sometimes partake it for no other reason but to annoy the other. Did he happen to see the package of Oreos under my daughter's bed? Surely one who is the greatest in heaven isn't sneaking unhealthy snacks to her room in the middle of the night, right? My own mental image of "this child," is a darling little girl -- lovely and clean, probably with curly hair and dimples. She would have no dirt under her nails and a matching ensemble, clutching a fluffy teddy bear in her hands and answering Jesus' questions with a "yes, sir" and "no, sir."


A few years back, a missionary my husband and I supported and stayed with on mission trips to Mexico was in Illinois for a visit. We were so excited when we found out we could have her to our home for dinner. The menu was carefully prepared, and we were all in our Sunday best with high hopes that she'd share some of her amazing stories of miracles in the desolate villages in remote mountains of Mexico. We gently warned/threatened our children to be on their best behavior.


It was as if they could sense the anxiety and elevated expectations for the evening, and when we all sat to eat, they really let loose! They were both preschool age, and potty talk was quite the rage. And Garnet, with three children and grandmother of her own and a mother/grandmother figure to dozens, didn't bat an eye. She dismissed their behavior as nothing more than normal childhood dinner musings.


We were mortified! Luckily we let her wisdom be our guide and let it go.


Because as I reflect on this passage and story today, it occurs to me that Jesus doesn't say who "acts like a child." He says whoever "humbles" himself like a child. You see, children in all their innocence don't know better. They simply are who they are with no worries and most importantly, no pride. They don't compare or compete when they are young; there is no popularity contest. That simplicity of not having the greater context of societal rules or the hurdle of living up to others' expectations is what makes children humble. They didn't put Garnet, not anyone else for that matter, on a pedestal. To them, everyone is equal and acting what's in your heart or on your mind was all they knew.


Humility. Such a difficult concept for grownups and yet Jesus doesn't just suggest it; he demands it. If we want the gift of eternal life, we must strip ourselves of arrogance and pride and become like the "least of these." I don't mean children. But to be truly humble, we must serve those considered the most lowly. After all, that's how our heavenly father came to this earth. Why should we expect anything less of ourselves in our daily walk?