Four days late or right on time?

Unless you've been living in a cave without a connection to the outside world this week, you probably heard about a little girl named Nadia Bloom who went missing after going for a bike ride. It was the fourth full day after she had disappeared before a man prayed, and went into the swamp looking for her, and ultimately found her; a task that trained law enforcement and search and rescue had not been able to accompish. Being slightly on the inside (her family is a family friend), a mother, and a minister's wife myself, I had a small idea of what the various players were going through as the family's church staff sat with them, praying and waiting for a miracle. Growing up in the same area, I also had a pretty good idea of the odds and statistical likelihood of her safe return. Needless to say, it was a pretty dark few days.

I haven't been able to shake something though, since several hours before word began to leak that she had been located and was okay. The story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead kept drifting in and out of my prayers and my consciousness.

The story basically goes like this:

Jesus had a good friend, a man by the name of Lazarus who got sick. Jesus was good friends with Lazarus, and his sisters Mary and Martha. Sure that Jesus could fix the problem, they sent a message for him to get his tail back to their village in Bethany and take care of business.

When he heard the news, he said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's son will be glorified through it." Jesus loved Martha and her sister, and Lazarus. Yet when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days.

Then he said to the disciples, "let's head on over there now." He also told them that Lazarus was already dead, and for their sake, "I am glad that I was not there, so that you may believe. But, let's go to him."

Hold the phone here. Jesus, the all-powerful one, would-be savior of the world (this was before the cross happened), knew his friend was sick, and he could heal him. After all, he'd healed lots of ungrateful sick people before, some he had relationships with, some he did not. This was his friend for crying out loud! But he didn't drop everything. He waited two days, until after he knew Lazarus was already dead.

By the time Jesus got there, Lazarus had already been dead and buried in a cave for four days. Now, I'm not a doctor or forensics expert, but that is pretty far gone. Martha met him on the road, saying, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask."

Mary comes out and repeats her sister's words, essentially berating him, if you'd come when we asked you to, we wouldn't be in this pickle.

Jesus asks to go to the tomb. He tells them to move the stone ("but it'll stank to high heaven! He's been there 4 days now!").

"Then Jesus said, 'Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?'

...'Father I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me...'"

Jesus called him out of the tomb. Lazarus came out, alive and well.

Nadia Bloom didn't die in her 4 days in the woods. What she saw and what she did will come out soon (I have no doubt of that!), but there are several other questions that have been asked:

1) If there is a God (which there is), why would he have let this child disappear in the first place, and not be found before she was?

2) Why hasn't God heard (or rather, answered the way we would like), the prayers of others?

3) Is God really involved in this little girl's story, or was it luck, perchance, or just common sense?

The answer to the first question is that free will is a gift the Father has given his children. We can choose to obey the guidelines and commands in His Word, or we can choose not to. The second part of this questions is that God doesn't act on our timetables, our 24-hour news cycles, or any other deadline that we put on Him. He is the creator and holder of all time, we are just blessed to get to live within it. We don't know why Jesus waited until Lazarus had been buried four days before cruising into town, but he was glorified in this. By Tuesday morning, the experts weren't giving a whole lot of hope of a positive outcome for Nadia. But God was right on time in sending someone to the same spot He knew she was all along, right in the palm of his hand.

The second question is harder. There have been so many times when we pray that we don't get the answers that we want to hear. We then assume that God either doesn't exist, or is a spiteful beast who couldn't care less about us. There is nothing farther from the truth! The same free will that allowed Nadia the choice to go into the woods, is also afforded to each and every one of us. And free will is the initial choice between sin and obedience. There is a lot of sin and evil in the world. Sin is the consequence of disobedience. Even when bad things happen, it is often the consequence of a conscious choice lurking somewhere in the past. It isn't fair to apply this completely to cancer or similar circumstances, although since we don't know what causes them in the first place, there's nothing that says that it's not the result of some long-ago decision (generationally, or individually). When we pray simply for a single outcome, we run the risk of being disappointed. We can't see the giant plan that God has; sometimes the no's really are for our benefit.

The third question, "was God really involved in this story?" can only be answered as "YES!" Again, we don't know why God didn't intervene sooner; that's a question for heaven. But in my opinion, four days late was right on time.

What About the Blue Zebras?

I took Isaac to the post office today. He was very excited when we got back to the car and he found a toy zebra in the car. He was telling me about the black stripes, and I absentmindedly asked him what color the zebra was. He told me white, and then asked the following questions, that have had me turning on my head ever since:

What about the blue zebras? Where do they live?

I started to explain to him about camouflage and other such "evolutionary" concepts, and then I realized, if God could make a zebra to be protected from being lion dinner, hidden by its stripes, then God could make a blue zebra.

But maybe God does make blue zebras.

Maybe the person we avoid with the unpleasant look on their face, or way of relating to people is a blue zebra. Or maybe the person who stands radically for what they believe is the blue zebra. Maybe we don't recognize the blue zebras because we're too busy hunting them down, slaughtering them for a meal, and then moving onto our next victim. Maybe the uniqueness of the blue zebra isn't so unique, nor our response as corporate lions.

Maybe we need to watch for blue zebras more often.

The Grape Epic

Once there was a little boy eating his supper. On his green plate were three grapes. A mommy grape, a daddy grape, and a baby grape. The mommy and daddy grapes were quite cooperative and hopped into the little boy's mouth, where they made their way to the little boy's tummy.

The baby grape however, was not ready to do what his mommy and daddy did, so he rolled across the table. Then he jumped, jumped, jumped, and "pound-pound, saw-saw"-ed on the table. Finally, that little grape leaped off the table and rolled across the dining room rug. The little boy dove after him, and in the process bonked his head on the neighboring chair. He ran to his mommy for a hug and a kiss, and together they looked for that naughty baby grape. When they found him, the little boy popped the impertinent produce into his mouth and squooshed him up. He felt a little sorry for the baby grape who was all alone, so he ate some raisins to keep him company. Then the little boy, put his plate in the sink and ran off to play with his toys, rather than clean them up as asked.

And so, the old adage that we are what we eat is true. The little boy became the naughty grape that he had eaten.

(as mostly related by Isaac to his Mommy)

Going to the "Big Guy"

It's been a rough few weeks here. Life has had to have a "new kind of normal." Isaac has done really well with many of the changes he's had to put up with, but it's his prayer life that is most captivating to me.

We've made a point over the last year (at least since he started using "words") to include him in his bedtime prayers. We ask him each night what he wants to thank Jesus for. This is often an entertaining list of trucks, individual friends, trains, family members, boats, kitty cats, school buses (the kid likes things that move!). Lately though he's started to include some new elements.

For instance, a few weeks ago, when we were praying for the little girl that he will one day marry, he covered my mouth with his little hand, and interrupted, "No Mommy, is Meena." (She is one of his buddies.) Another night, when asking him what he wanted to thank Jesus for, he named one of his Puggle teachers (whom he hadn't seen in several weeks). Then last week, he had his first prayer "for" something. He asked Jesus to make Daddy's "big owies" better (Note: we were in a car accident several weeks ago, and that has been a source of stress in ALL of our lives).

But nothing tops last night's petition:

"Jesus, please Meena come play."

Apparently Mommy had not done well enough at managing a certain two year old's social calendar, because he felt that he needed to ask Jesus to intercede on Mommy's behalf.

I LOVE THIS!!!

My little boy has learned that God is intimately involved and interested in the minute details of his life that his mommy might be overwhelmed and unable to fix or deal with. So, he takes his petitions straight to God. He prays simply and specifically for his "needs." And he trusts with his child-like faith that God will respond and answer his prayers. Oh, for a faith like that!

I did however call Meena's mommy last night. We're working on scheduling. But they will play, because God does answer the littlest prayers too.

Craving Authenticity

There has been a really big push in advertising and ministry circles over the last few years: this buzzword "authentic" and its variations. An "authentic experience" or "authentic cuisine" or "authentic relationships." It's the last one that has me really thinking lately.

So many people say that they want to have "authentic relationships." However, what they really mean is, "I want people to just leave me alone and accept me for being me without wanting me to change." However, we rarely want to give the same freedom to anybody else. We say we "crave authenticity," but what we really crave is someone being what we want them to be to us, without taking responsibility for what we bring to the relationship.

Relationships are a two-way street. I have my foibles. I'm quite aware of them. Some I've introduced myself to, others have been dragged into my presence with great kicking and screaming. Still others I've given birth to through my desires and experiences. They make me, well "me."

My question and challenge to myself today is, can I let you be the authentic person that God designed you to be, and in doing so, celebrate His creation in you? The murkier question (which I cannot answer) is whether you are willing to do the same for me?

Putting Jesus in Time Out

Once again, Jesus paid for sin. This time, it was in his plastic infant form; the form that Isaac plays with in his Fisher Price Nativity set. Having been told that he needed to pick up his toys before lunch and nap time (we have a busy afternoon and evening), he kept dawdling. Finally after 45 minutes, I set the timer for seven minutes (now mind you I had been helping a little), and said, "when the timer goes 'Ding!' any toys Mommy sees out and has to put away are going in time out."

Well, the alphabet blocks got cleaned up. Three books got cleaned up. A ball went where it belonged. Baby Jesus was left out.

It's a fitting reminder to how we ignore Christ until we need him. We put him in a time-out that he willingly goes to because he loves us enough to give us free will (two year olds are excellent reminders of the cost of loving someone else when they don't always seem to love us back!). And then, he takes out punishment (even in the wrath of a mama who is tired of picking up too many toys every day).

God loves meenough to take my time-out and the other punishment that I deserve. He loves you too.

Baby Jesus is still going to sit in time-out today though. Mommy keeps her promises, just like God. But Resurrection Day will happen tomorrow.

Two Today!

Happy Birthday Little Guy!

Today you are two. You run, you hop, you say so much. You love to climb and laugh. You always have a smile (even when you are in trouble), and you give the best hugs and kisses (when you want to). You have wonderful manners (most of the time), and go so far as to tell your toys "I sowwy" when you drop them on the floor.

You love to count and find the capital letters in your books (which we read over, and over, and over again). You love to color and are learning to write your name (you know all of the letters in the right order, you just don't have the motor coordination yet to do it yourself). You love to squoosh play dough, especially with the star and kitty cat cookie cutters; then tell us you are all done and want another color to play with.

You've just learned that running around in the backyard and getting "rained on" by the sprinkler is a good time, and you love to run next door into Mr. Jimmy and Mrs. Pat's yard (and driveway), and point out all of the flowers and clouds as you stall on going back to your yard.

You love identifying big trucks, trains, big cars, and now, motorcycles. You are getting to be a lot of fun in the car as you see letters, numbers, and colors everywhere, and want to share them with Mommy and Daddy. You still don't like driving through the middle of nowhere with nothing to look at, but that's okay, because Mommy doesn't either.

You love pizza, hot doggies, cheese sticks, purple applesauce, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, wraps, and pea-buttah (peanut butter sandwiches).

You think that watching TV is a lot of fun, but Noggin and Sesame Street have spoiled you; you think that Mommy and Daddy shouldn't have to fast-forward to find the next part of a show.

Mommy and Daddy love to hear you say your "Thank You God's;" we never know what you are going to thank Jesus for on any given night. Your thanks ranges from people, places, foods, things, to transportation. Mommy and Daddy pray that you never lose your thankful spirit.

You got a train table for your birthday (with lots of trains and track pieces). You have come and thanked Mommy and Daddy for them three times in the first twenty minutes you were awake this morning. You have such a sweet heart, spirit, and voice.

Mommy and Daddy love you lots little monster. We prayed for you to be here, happy, and healthy for a very long time. You are all three of those things. We continue to pray that you will grow up to love Jesus, more than anybody or anything else; that you will make good choices and be a good influence on everyone around you. We pray for your friends, that they will grow up to love Jesus, and to be a good influence on you, making good choices. We pray for the little girl that you will marry someday. We pray that she will grow up to love God, to love you, and to make good choices along the way. We pray for her parents, that they will love her in such a way to make everything we're praying for easier.

We love you Isaac Zachariah. We named you that on purpose. God has remembered us with you, and you continuously bring us laughter as you laugh with us and grow.

Happy Birthday Little Man! You are a precious gift, and we can't wait to see what plans God has in store for you!