READING THE BIBLE: GOD HIMSELF WILL SHUT THE DOOR

Am I the only one that would like to know what skincare products Sarah (wife of Abraham) was using?




Here is a gal that I think is close to 90, and she is so hot that Abraham tells her she must pretend to be his sister so that he is not killed by the Egyptians. (Genesis 12)



If you are reading through Genesis with me (or have read the whole book before), are you finding that there is more drama and scandal than an episode of daytime tv?



And, oh yes--there are some truths sprinkled here and there, too. :-)



It is a beautiful thing how we are already seeing redemption, and how God meets our human failures, in this first book of the Bible.



I would love to hear what stands out for you in the comments section.



I am LOVING getting back into God's Word, and if you'd like to join us we are doing one chapter a day. Today is Genesis 14, tomorrow Genesis 15, etc.



This past week we were just introduced to Abraham (Abram at the beginning, before God changed his name), and we read all about Noah and the flood.



Did you see a glimpse of Christ in Noah's story?



In her book What The Bible Is All About, Henrietta Mears talks about how "Noah was saved from the flood by the ark (a perfect type or Old Testament picture example of Christ, our ark of safety). When he came out, the first thing he did was to erect an altar and worship God." (p. 30)



(As we talk about the Bible, you'll see me refer to this book a LOT! I am not a Bible scholar, but I want to share my impressions of what we are reading and will try my best to make sure I get my facts straight and interpret everything properly.)



Keeping this in mind about our ark of safety, I want to share a part of this story that terrifies me, a part that they seemed to have glossed over in Kids Church when we talked about Noah and sang songs about the rain coming down and animals marching two by two.



The civilization before the flood has been compared to that of Greece or Rome. In other words, they weren't just a bunch of savages, but had education and culture. They were also seriously wicked. In fact, if it weren't for Noah, you would not be reading this blog right now, nor would I have been around to write it. Noah was the ONE righteous man on earth, and he was the reason God didn't completely wipe out the human race.



God told Noah that he would send a flood, and for 120 years (!!!) as he built the ark Noah warned people about what would happen.



Even with all the nasty stuff that humanity was engaging in, they got another 120 years to turn from their wicked ways.



You know how many people survived the flood?



Eight.



God saved Noah, his wife, their sons, and their daughters-in-law.



Eight people on the entire planet.



I think it's easy (I am certainly guilty of this) to think that, if WE had lived back then, we would have totally listened to Noah and been right behind the hippos coming up the little walkway into the ark. I meah, DUH! How dumb could those people have been, right?



But would we really have believed God when He said what He was going to do? Remember, every other person on earth thought Noah was nuts.



The part that really makes my blood run cold is found in Genesis 7:



11-12 It was the six-hundredth year of Noah's life, in the second month, on the seventeenth day of the month that it happened: all the underground springs erupted and all the windows of Heaven were thrown open. Rain poured for forty days and forty nights.

13-16 That's the day Noah and his sons Shem, Ham, and Japheth, accompanied by his wife and his sons' wives, boarded the ship. And with them every kind of wild and domestic animal, right down to all the kinds of creatures that crawl and all kinds of birds and anything that flies. They came to Noah and to the ship in pairs—everything and anything that had the breath of life in it, male and female of every creature came just as God had commanded Noah. Then God shut the door behind him. (The Message)



Then God shut the door behind him.



There is something so FINAL about that. Not just that a door closed, but that God himself shut it. There was no getting in or out at that point.



As the waters rose around a young mother, what was going through her mind?



When baby Dallas bonks his head, there is always that second between the bonk and the earsplitting scream and REAL TEARS that follow. And in that one second, everything I should have done and could have done to prevent this outcome flashes through my head, and I think, please, no! Please let him be okay. Please let me go back ten seconds.

But I can't go back.



God has told us in His word about the "flood" that is to come. Are we listening? Are we turning from our wicked ways, or continuing to party and thinking that there is plenty of time? Maybe we are not even openly defiant, but have just decided that all this talk about God is a nice story and has nothing to do with us.



One day, when the door to Christ, our ark of safety, is closed (either by our death or the rapture/His return) it will be too late for anyone who has refused to repent. And there will be an eternity to wish for being able to go back and make a different choice.



But the door will have been shut by God himself.

AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!

One of my mom friends was telling me about her mommy group.




"All those women do is complain about their husbands not helping. I don't get it. I mean, my hubby unloads the dishwasher and makes the bed and takes the baby on the weekend so I can sleep in a few extra hours. When I talk about that at the group, all those women just look at me!"



I looked at her.



If you are a mom, do you struggle with not feeling appreciated?



Before I had Dallas, I used to wonder what the big deal was.



What do you want? I thought. A medal for taking care of a kid? How hard could it be?



I'm sure it's moments like that that make God smile, since He knows exactly what's coming.



I"ve gotten a lot of emails from moms who write anonymously, and pour out their pain of feeling like they are all alone and ready to drop from exhaustion, and that their husbands just don't get it.



My meltdown came one Friday morning while my hubby was getting ready to go away for the weekend to a party for a friend who was getting married. He was playing with Dallas (who was almost 3 months at the time), while I raced around to throw the laundry in, prepare for my show, and kind of get things started for the day before he left. As I was scooping the kitty litter, Dj told me to hurry up because he needed to leave. Mid-scoop, I just lost it and started to cry and scream about how he would never understand what it would ever be like to be a working mom and the primary caregiver for our baby, and how nice it must be to play with the baby before and after work and for a few hours on the weekend and just do whatever one pleased. Oh, and did he realize he had been stepping over a laundry basket for TWO DAYS without thinking of asking if he could carry it downstairs for me? And how about those socks stuffed into the corners of the couch? And .)WHY did he insist on throwing Dallas's dirty diapers on the FLOOR instead of in the diaper genie ("Because it makes him laugh?" Dj offered.)? But have FUN snowboarding with the guys this weekend and playing video games...I"ll just be here scooping the cat litter in the sweatsuit I slept in while the baby screams. Buh-bye!



Dj wisely removed the scooper from my hand (I think he was afraid I was going to throw it at his head), and seemed genuinely surprised at my outburst. He felt that he had changed his life dramatically since Dallas arrived, listing off how he turned down invitations to go hang out with the guys "a few times a week," and was only working out three days a week now instead of seven.



"AAARRRGGHHHHH!!!!!" I screamed. "I haven't worked out since NOVEMBER!!! You will never get it!"



I think we still act out some version of this, even five months later. Yes, we have learned to balance things a little better, and he has learned to ask how he can help me (although I still find socks dangling from faucets) more often.



I would love to hear your thoughts on this in the comments, but it seems to me that the parent who is primarily with the child will always feel that they are doing way too much, while the parent who is working will always feel like they are going above and beyond what they need to do to help you. But I think that is the difference right there--when Dj does something to take care of the baby, it almost feels like he is doing me a favor. On the flip side, taking care of the baby is my life. I can't make a move or a decision without considering how if affects Dallas. It is all-consuming and nonstop.



And please hear my heart on this! If my hubby got to work from home and be with Dallas all day, I would be so insanely jealous that THAT would not be a good scenario, either. I'm very grateful to have the set up that I do, it's just that I feel overwhelmed about 98% of the time. The other 2% of the time that I"m feeling confident is usually followed by a studio crash where the internet goes out or a message from my hubby that he will be going on the road again.



Maybe you're like me, and you don't want to let anyone down. Kids. Spouse. Work. Friends. And what about quiet time with God and church and volunteering? I am a classic Type A personality, and I am just now starting to realize that I can't do it all, even though I have a cool baby carrier that allows me to hold the baby and have my hands free. I remember that someone once said, "You CAN have it all. Just not at the same time." :-)



So, what has to go? That's what I will be deciding over the next few months. I talked about simplicity in an earlier post, and how much I crave it. Maybe you will join me in taking these next few months to pray and decide the most important things in your life, and to let the rest of it go, and never look back.



If I can give myself some breathing room (and you give yourself some, too), maybe it won't matter so much when the hubby goes snowboarding with the guys for the weekend.



I feel like I"m a little all over the place with this post, but I just want you to know that if you are struggling you are not alone. I know that I have felt like the only mom who doesn't know what she's doing (I asked a good friend whose baby was born the day after Dallas if she was scared and tired and confused, and she said, "No, this just all comes really naturally. Did I tell you that she's been sleeping through the night since the day we came home? This is a peaceful time."), so my promise to YOU is that I will always be honest about what a mess I am. :-) And if I somehow figure out some kind of secret for getting my act together, I will blog about it. :-)



I want to leave you with a sweet story my mom told me about my nephew, who is five and named Fox.



My sister works, and her husband stays home with Fox. They've been doing this since he was born, and it works really well for them. They are both wonderful parents, and Fox is just precious.



He just graduated from kindergarten, and at the graduation ceremony they were asking all the kids what they wanted to be when they grew up.



Most of the kids gave the usual answers: fireman, doctor, singing astronaut.



However, when Fox got up there, he looked around at everyone and proudly announced that when he grew up, he was going to be a stay-at-home dad. :-)

BISCUITS ON THE DASHBOARD

Are you ever haunted by missed opportunities to bless someone?



I may not have time to take a shower every day, but I make it a priority to get Baby Dallas out for some fresh air on a walk. He is usually out by the time we take the first corner.


A few days ago, we were strolling around our usual block when I noticed a little boy about Dallas's age, around 8 months. He was just precious, with sparkly eyes and curly black hair, standing up in the driver's seat and hanging on to the steering wheel of a car that was parked at the curb. His dad was in the passenger seat. "That's so cute," I thought. "Dad is letting him pretend to drive while they wait for mom in one of the shops up the road." I glanced over, and then back down to Dallas, who looks especially chubby when he is asleep--he's got the pouty lip and cheek thing going on, which I hope lasts forever. I know they warn us about walking and texting, which almost sent me right into a pole once, but walking while cooing at a sleeping baby can be hazardous, too.


Round the block we went, and as we came around the corner again a few minutes later, I saw the car again. This time, the little boy smiled and waved at me, and I smiled and waved back.


In those few seconds, I saw something that broke my heart.


That little boy was dressed in a worn-out onesie, like what kids wear to sleep in, and there was a plate of 2 biscuits on a paper plate on the dashboard.


The back of the car was stuffed with blankets and trash bags overflowing with clothes.


And Dad had stubble and the kind of sad expression as he smiled and watched his little son that tears came to my eyes.


I was glad I had sunglasses on so he couldn't see that.


I wish I could tell you that I went right up to the car and asked if they were okay, and told them about some safe shelters where families can sleep.


I wish I could tell you that I went home and grabbed some food and brought it back for them.


I wish I could tell you that I kept waving at the little boy, and then asked his dad if they needed any clothes, since our sons looked about the same size.


But I can't.


I kept walking.


Would a kind word or some baby jeans or oatmeal banana cereal from me have changed their lives?


Maybe not. But maybe yes.


I have gotten really great with rationalizing my way out of being available to be used by God.


I feel like, as I rush about my days, that there are no margins in my life. Maybe you have scheduled every second of your day like this. And it works as long as there is no traffic, no sick baby, no lost keys, no equipment meltdown, or anything else that would hold you up for more than ten seconds. But even when it's "working," you find yourself asking, "Is this really what it's all about? Why do I feel so tired all the time? And like I"m missing something?"


Will you join me in the quest for a simpler life? Even though I kind of think I"ve been trying to do this since the baby was born, I have failed miserably, because I now find myself busier than ever with work, and appointments, and things on my to-do list. I panicked the other day when I accidentally deleted my to-do list on my phone (hmmm....maybe it wasn't an accident?), and frantically started a new one and tried to fill it with everything I could remember from the other one.


What needs to be on my to-do list, or better yet, seared on my heart, is to be sensitive to the people that God has put in my path.


Someone who, at that very moment, might be going, "God, if you're real, I need a sign. Please. Let me know you hear me."


"It's not safe," I told myself as I pushed the stroller home. "Anyone could park on the street with their kid, and be up to no good. I have to protect my child."


I kept seeing that little face grinning at me as he clung to the sides of the steering wheel.


"I'm a busy person! I've got a ton of email to get through, a show to prepare for, and a house to clean."


I thought about that movie The Pursuit of Happyness, where Will Smith and his son are sleeping in the public restroom, and someone is trying to get in.


"I'm sure I"ll see them again, and then I'll do something nice."


I thought about the little biscuits on that paper plate on the dashboard.


I haven't stopped thinking about those biscuits.


And I haven't seen them again.