The Courage to Persevere

It takes a lot of courage to persevere in the face of hardship. To keep on trying to have a baby, even though you lost one in late pregnancy is hard. Just dragging yourself out of bed to face another day as a single mom with four kids under 9 takes perseverance. Encouraging a husband to keep on keeping on when the bills are too many and the income too small takes wisdom.

I am blessed to have grown daughters who are courageous. They are women of valour, mothers of strength. I marvel as I chat with them about their circumstances, and inside, in the deepest part of me, I whisper a prayer to my God: "Help them, Lord. Strengthen them. And Thank You for their growth in grace. Thank You for helping them with the daily struggles. Most of all, Thank You for giving them hope."

I want them to know that they are women of valour. Jenni of the Blog "One Thing" says it well. She writes that the "Excellent Wife" of Proverbs 31 is a wife of valor. (Go there and read the post!)

I quote:

"What are these things that make up a wife of valor?

• Working diligently
• Providing food
• Getting up early
• Spending wisely
• Exercising
• Helping the poor
• Clothing her family
• Teaching kindness"

My daughters are women of valour. They hang in there, day after day, patiently enduring the trials that come their way. They have learned to trust the Lord and to lean on His grace. They know, like Jenni, that to do it in their own strength is foolish, for without Him, they can do nothing.

I admire them for their courage. More than that, I praise the Lord of Glory, for He is the One who gives them strength.

Christmas and Angels

Well, it's over.  We've officially celebrated Christmas.  We've eaten the omelet.  We've unpacked the stockings.  We've opened the presents and hugged all the grandkids.  We've nibbled gingerbread men, and munched hors d'ouvres.  We've watched "The Grinch", and sipped some wine, and solved all the problems of the world while Joanna lay snoozing on the couch.

There was only one thing left to do:  READ COSMIC CHRISTMAS!  

Every year for the past ten years, I read Max Lucado's imaginary journey into the heavens that depicts what may have happened when God chose to send His seed into the womb of the virgin, Mary.  Every year I have tried desperately to get through this little book without shedding a tear.  Haven't done that yet.

Usually it's this passage that gets me going - it's the part where the Angel Gabriel is speaking, unheard by Mary, but understood by the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, nestled against His mother's breast:

"Do you know who you hold, Mary?  You secure the Author of grace.  He who is ageless is now moments old.  He who is limitless is now suckling your milk.  He who strides upon the stars, now has legs too weak to walk; the hands which held the oceans are now an infant's fist.  To Him who has never asked a question, you will teach the name of the wind.  The Source of language will learn words from you.  He who has never stumbled, you will carry.  He who has never hungered, you will feed.  The King of creation is in your arms." - p. 95, 96 Cosmic Christmas

However, today, before I got to that part, I had already broken down.  

It was because of the angels.

Years ago, more than 25 years ago, it was an ordinary day.  I had run out to the Christian school to pick up our oldest daughter.  My four year old, Heather, had begged to come along for the ride.  I relented, and Rick stayed at home with the others.  

I was in a rush, so I told Heather to wait in the truck while I ran in to get her sister.  We weren't more than a minute, and we hurried back.  Heather was sitting there, and I opened the driver's door, allowing Adeena to clamber in before me.  "Put your seatbelts on," I urged, then started the truck and headed up the hill, turning left onto the highway.

As I turned, to my horror, the passenger door flew open, and out fell Heather.  I slammed on the brakes, and sat there, frozen, convinced that I had just killed my daughter.  I must have run her over - how could that back tire have missed her?

An instant later, there she was, climbing back in.  She didn't look hurt at all.  I hollered at her, shaken to the core:  "Why didn't you put your seatbelt on?  Why were you playing with the door handle?"  I was distraught, and I lashed out in frustration.  Heather stammered out a few words of explanation, which I didn't hear.  I was too intent on driving home, and too shook up to listen.

Much later - weeks, months, years...I am not sure - Heather told me that she never hit the ground that day.  She fell out of the truck, straight into the arms of a man.  She felt herself caught, and she heard a voice inside her head telling her that she was okay, and that she should get back into the truck.  She knew, deep down, that this "man" was an angel...and that he had caught her and saved her life that day.

We were discussing this angel story in the living room one day, and Jared piped up:  "That happened to me, too!  I was in the back of the house, by the wrecked-down barn, when I was about 5.  I knew I wasn't supposed to be back there, but I was having fun exploring.  I was on the top of the rubble wall, and lost my balance.  A man in white caught me - he just appeared out of nowhere - and told me to go home.  I never told you because I knew I'd be in trouble.  I wasn't allowed to be back there."

Two different children.  Two different angel stories.  

The Bible tells us in Psalm 91:11 that he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.  Angels are commanded to watch over God's children - those who make the Most High their refuge.  God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in time of trouble.  He sent His angels to guard my children, to keep them from harm, even though it was their own foolishness (and their mother's neglect) that caused them to be in danger.

But get this:  He did not spare His own Son!

Max Lucado captures it beautifully in the fictional words of the Angel Gabriel:

As we looked at the baby  Jesus, the darkness lifted.  Not the darkness of the night, but the darkness of the mystery. . . Our minds were filled with Truth we had never before known.  We became aware for the first time of the Father's plan to recue those who bear His name. . . 

At once amazed and stunned, the eye of every angel went to the one part of the child: the hands which would be pierced.  "At the pounding of the nail," God told us, "you will not save Him.  You will watch, you will hear, you will yearn, but you will not rescue." p.92, Cosmic Christmas

The angels, God's messengers, protected MY children, yet were ordered to stand by and do nothing while God's Own Son was led like a Lamb to the slaughter.  

Romans 8:32 q He who did not spare his own Son but r gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?

What manner of love is this?  God did not spare His own Son, yet He spared mine.  God spared my daughter.  He spared ME.  

I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor anything in all creation, can separate me from God's love.  And that love included sending His only begotten Son to be the propitiation for my sin.  There was no other way.  I needed to be rescued.  The price had to be paid.  And it was paid, that day on Calvary.  

33Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? s It is God who justifies. 34 t Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—u who is at the right hand of God, v who indeed is interceding for us. [9] 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36 As it is written,

w “For your sake x we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”

37 No, in all these things we are more than y conquerors throughz him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

When Satan Tempts me to Despair...

When Satan tempts me to despair,
and tells me of the guilt within,
upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end to all my sin.

I am a Patriarch's Wife, and proud of it. I am glad to be a stay-at-home mom, caring for my husband, my family, my home. I feel privileged to be in this position, and I aspire to greatness. My desire is to do well before the Lord, and to teach my children to do well, too.

The trouble is, I live in an old farmhouse that is constantly and continually under construction. Our basement is unusable -- dirt floor, river running through, very damp. We have very little storage in the house, and only a few closets. We have tried very hard to weed out unnecessary possessions, but many of us are pack-rats and we still have 9 people living here. Five of those are six feet or taller, so we're all big. The logistics of caring for off-season clothes, for instance, with no closet space and an unusable basement are overwhelming. Then to add to it, some of us (especially ME) are bookaholics, and we treasure our books. It is hard to weed out the books, because we LOVE them.

Recent renovations began last year, when Rick and I were on a two-day getaway. My sweet Linda decided to do a "while you were out" and took everything out of the family room. Books, hundreds of them, got stuck in a hallway, stacked in the upstairs hallway, etc.

Then we decided to change our "school at home" classroom into a family oriented learning and living space. We got rid of desks, made shelves for the books, got rid of piles and piles of computer paraphernalia (Rick is no longer a computer guy...he's now a trucker) and everything was beginning to look great.

That's when Rick decided to take out the 42-foot wall of windows (harvested from an old school building, single pane, and not conducive to keeping out the cold) and rebuild it, installing good windows and insulation and vapour barrier, etc. Great plan, but the timing was exactly backwards. We had to pull the newly built shelves away from that long wall. Books got stacked, again.. Chaos ensued.

So, what am I living in? An old farmhouse, with boxes and Rubbermaid containers stacked all over the place. I am trying to find all the necessary receipts for my husband's upcoming audit. Files and papers are stacked all over the computer area. Boxes of books are still piled high, but now there is insulation on top of that. Pieces of drywall await installation. There is a sink/counter on my kitchen table, awaiting installation in the newly built bathroom. (I forgot to mention that. The bathroom floor was spongey and dangerous, so in January my son Matthew ripped it out. that led to the rebuilding of the entire bathroom. Almost there, 11 months later...)

This is NOT the picture I have of a Patriarch's Wife. I want to be hospitable. I want order. I want my husband to be proud of me. I want to be a good example to my daughters. I want to open my mouth with kindness and wisdom, not with irritation due to the stress of living in this environment.

Satan, the Accuser, doesn't have to look very far to see weakness here. It's obvious when you walk through the door. Everything is in disarray. The living room is the only room in the house that is presentable...and it's not perfect, either. Satan sits on my shoulders, saying, "You really aren't a good wife. Look at this house! You can't even keep socks in Rick's drawer. And why don't you have all of the filing done? You should have been able to just walk to the drawer and pull out a file with all of the necessary information. You're a failure." (I hang my head in shame. I have to agree.)

He goes on, "You really aren't a very good mother, either. You are so busy getting the filing done, you haven't even started Christmas shopping. What about baking cookies with your children? And you haven't even purchased a snowsuit for your son. How's he supposed to enjoy the snow? You were short-tempered with the children yesterday when they were just laughing and playing. What a bad mom you are." (I hang my head in shame... I have to agree, again.)

This morning I woke up thinking about all of this reality, and I was sorely tempted to despair. Tears were near the surface. The weight of the world was on my shoulders. I thought of Stacy, and Debbie, and Jennie, and all of those ladies who seem to have it all together, and compared myself to them. Woe is me. "I will never measure up", I thought.

Frustration and anger were near the surface of my mind, about to spill out into my behaviour with my husband and my children bearing the brunt, then the Holy Spirit brought to my mind one of the songs we sing in church:

When Satan tempts me to despair,
and tells me of the guilt within,
upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end to all my sin.

I began to think about my life and the reality of my marriage and family. Yes, I am a failure, compared to what I want to be or what others are...but I am a child of God. I am striving to please my Master, Jesus, and to bless and honour my head, Rick. When I think of Jesus, I see Him smiling down on me, pleased with my efforts, knowing my heart. He is able to deliver me from all of this chaos. He alone knows how long it will take to achieve our goal of an orderly home. He, Who stands before the Father, pleading for me, is on MY side. He will never leave me, nor forsake me. He is walking with me, helping me, as I sort through papers and direct my children and help my husband with his work.

The Christian life is one of repentance. Daily, moment my moment repentance. We need to acknowledge our weaknesses, and depend on Jesus to make our work count for His glory. In my many weaknesses I see how very needy I am, and how great the grace of God is toward me. He LOVES me. He knows my sin, my failures, my anxious moments. And He promised to meet all of my needs. ALL of them. Even this.

So, Satan...begone! I know I am a mess, but I serve a glorious Saviour. I know our home is not a showcase, but we love God here. We may not have our files in order, but we all sat together today and read the Bible, and prayed.

Thank YOU, Lord, for encouraging me through this little chorus. Thank You that You know my weaknesses, but you love me anyway. Thank You for never leaving me. Give me strength and courage to keep on keeping on this day. May I do it with a song of joy in my heart.

In Christ, I pray.
Amen.

Before The Throne Of God Above
Charitie Lees Bancroft, Vikki Cook


Verse 1:

Before the throne of God above,
I have a strong, a perfect plea,
A great High Priest whose name is "Love,"
Who ever lives and pleads for me.


Chorus 1:

My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart;
I know that while in heav'n He stands
no tongue can bid me thence depart.
No tongue can bid me thence depart.


Verse 2:
When Satan tempts me to despair,
and tells me of the guilt within,
upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end to all my sin.




Chorus 2:
Because the sinless Saviour died,
my sinful soul is counted free;
For God, the Just, is satisfied
to look on him and pardon me.
to look on him and pardon me.


Verse 3:
Behold him there! the risen Lamb,
my perfect, spotless Righteousness,
the great unchangeable I AM,
the King of glory and of grace!


Chorus 3:
One with Himself I cannot die,
My soul is purchased by His blood;
My life is hid with Christ on high,
with Christ, my Saviour and my God
with Christ, my Saviour and my God

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