Mark Twain, Thomas Edison, Albus Dumbledore, Bruce Wayne, the Dalai Lama, Waddles the Pig, Jesus, and Dilgo Khyentse, a Buddhist poet.  Words of all these men (or animals) are on the bedroom wall of my 11 year old son.  I honestly didn’t realize he had quotes of these wise ones penciled on post-it notes until I checked his room this morning to confirm he had finished yesterday’s chores.  On this occasion, by God’s grace, my heart was proportionately balanced to see past the overflowing drawers, overlook the half eaten chocolate bunny, and (again by God’s grace) to not mind having to brush crumbs off the bottom of my bare feet - thank goodness I didn’t step on a lego!  Credit to Christ, instead of scoffing I actually smiled looking around at all the relics he values and knelt down to pick up my heart that had melted to the floor.  I absolutely adore this boy.  He is hands down the most kind person I have ever known.  And yes, he did somewhat clean his room… it’s a bit better than it was!

Sometimes we need to lower our standards and enjoy the grubbiness and grit of life.

Sometimes we need to raise our standards and believe deeply our kids can succeed.

Sometimes we need to throw everything out the window and just love them.

I notice sitting on his make-shift dresser, Chore List #7: Bedroom

Pick up toys and put them where they belong

Pick up clothes: fold clean ones and put dirty ones away

Make beds neatly

Clean off dressers and make it neat

Wipe down the dressers

Clean the mirrors with Windex and paper towels

Sweep or vacuum the floors

Only remnants of check marks from previous dreaded cleaning days were visible… nothing marked off yesterday.  Not one line. Hmm.  (I actually can get the kids to clean the house and do a really good job, but that’s another day’s blog)  Today is about finding sparks of joy in the midst of the mess.  It’s about slowing down long enough to discover the heart of a child.

Noah lives in the breakfast nook of our home.  He doesn’t really have to, but it’s what he wants.  He came up with the idea of turning the tiny space into his own room and somethings are worth letting go of so you can create joy for someone else.  I don’t particularly like having the doorway to natural light in my cute kitchen blocked by a sailcloth curtain branding the letters N-O-A-H in green painters tape; but after a while even what you don’t like (lizards, grow-a-frogs, cheap metal loft beds, lost little breakfast nooks) become endearing when your babies love them.

I look around his room and see the masterpiece of his handiwork.  His ink-stained fingers that try to catch up with his brain.  Models half finished, broken from a little brother or friends and yet always forgiven, rockets ready to launch if only his parents would get him some engines, a homemade Ghost Busters proton pack, self discovered origami and a Chinese lantern, elfish language from Lord of the Rings etched into clay, Grandaddy’s briefcase turned board game box entitled, ‘Escape the Maze’.

I see relics unworthy for the give away box, yet whose worth is priceless to him.  A tiny porcelain box in the shape of Noah’s arc, a shark suspended in formaldehyde, a mason jar of pond water, a sleeping bag christmas ornament that stays out year round, a lizard magnet his parents brought him from a trip years ago, a piece of plywood broken from a martial arts belt test, glass frogs from Grammy.  There’s a tiny stuffed taco his sister sewed as a dog toy for his puppy, chewed up stuffed animals missing their eyes and ears after that puppy claims them as his own. His sister’s polkadot gloves she gave him so he could still play games on the old iPhone and not cut his fingers from the cracked glass.  How they may have looked never phased him, he only was thankful for the gift.

I see catalysts for his never stopping mind.  An organic chemistry molecule set from his aunt, a 30 year old microscope from Pa, a poster of the periodic table, “Science - A Visual Encyclopedia” stuffed under his pillow for nightly reading. Test tubes, chemicals, slides, and a keyboard.  Medals for math and reading. A gift card to Barnes and Noble rightly wedged between his mattress and bed frame - a proper place to keep his gold.  Mostly I scan the piles and piles of books, none which I would choose to read.  The Martian, Elements, Molecules, Minecraft Hacks, An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth, How Science Works, Guinness Word Records 2015 Gamer’s Edition.  Oh, and the Bible - I’ll choose that one!

I looked around his room and it was the mess that caught my attention as the bait, but it’s the scribbled quotes on post-it notes that hooked me.  All the stuff is just outpourings of what is growing in his heart and in his mind.  I praise God that He holds him and molds him.  I read the quotes and know that kindness over wisdom has captured his young heart and the compassion he holds and gives is sincere and pure.

11 post-its line the wall over his desk: (That I believe ALL came from one of his 6th grade teachers at Brown Intermediate School… THANK YOU, MR. B!)*

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

(side note: for those that are questioning the use of wisdom from unscriptural sources such as Buddhist poets or monks, Harry Potter, Batman, scientists, and atheists… it’s ok.  Go ahead and question.  In our family, we hope our kids are exposed to those and more, and still choose Christ.)

More notes are discovered under books, and propped by pillows.  

• Look in the mirror: Real Christians are not perfect; Real Christians know perfect (which is Jesus).  
• You are too young to make a difference - is a lie, don’t listen to that voice.  
• A drawing of Christian from Pilgrim’s Progress - hunched over from his burden, reading his truth, his long journey ahead of him.  (Pilgrim’s Progress is our book, just the two of us, me and Noah, we are reading it for the second time now).

And finally his prayer, Psalm 4, the blessing we say over him each night.  Just for Noah. Just from God. It speaks to his soul and whispers truth into his heart.

May the Lord answer you when you pray, Noah.

May He relieve you when you’re in distress.

May He lift up the light of His countenance upon you and put gladness in your heart, exceeding all earthly joy.

May the Lord establish you as a godly man who trusts in Him.

May the Lord make you dwell in safety.

And when you lie down, may you sleep in peace. 

I believe there is power in prayer and I do not believe prayer is a formula, fortune cookie, or genie bottle.  I pray in friendship with God and at times, in grace, see fruit from persistent prayer.  When Noah was first born I began to pray that he would be like the ancient Noah, a man whose faith led him to take action.  Noah did not care what people thought about him and out of his radical faith, was obedient to what God asked of him, regardless if the world thought he was crazy.  Interesting to see similar soul threads between my Noah and God’s.

What an honor it is to be his mama.  It is an honor to love him. 

My prayer is that all mamas and papas can pause and praise God for the blessings that are disguised as clutter.  That we can observe with new eyes who our kids are and what they love and why.  That we can taste and see the goodness that bubbles out of their yard sale bedrooms and mismatched socks.  That joy can be sparked out of our mess.  

That we can love them more each day for who they are and not for what we want them to be.

*I did not confirm the accuracy of these quotes, but rather copied them straight off the post-it notes.  If there are errors, they most likely occurred during the transfer from the board to the note in 6th grade hand writing, and not from the teacher, Mr. B.

Photo of Noah taken by Natalie Watson several years ago.

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I am who I am.  - God

I am who I am.  - Jesus

I am what I am.  - Paul

I am what I am.  - me

“I want to clarify for you, fellow believers, the gospel I proclaimed.  You received it and have taken your stand on it.  I passed on what is most important, and have also received it:

that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures,

that He was buried,

that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures,

that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve… then to over 500 at once… then to James, then to the apostles.

Last of all… He also appeared to me.

For I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.

But by God’s grace I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not ineffective…

… So we proclaim and so you have believed.”  

- 1 Corinthians 15:1-11

What is most important?

Jesus Christ, the incarnate God, died for my sins.  Rose from the dead.  Lives today.  And appears to me.

How have I taken my stand on it?

With repetitious prayers, shared likes for verse images, sporadic worship, rhetorical answers to life questions, petty requests for more, opening one eye to social injustice?  

perhaps.

Yes,  

And.

Being still and also present, brimming with gratitude, listening more than speaking, helping more than complaining, loving more than questioning, owning more than blaming. 

Mostly that last one.  

What is most important and where do I stand and what can I do about it?  

I own that I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called one.  My stance is firm on Jesus, unwavering, because it stumbled though the season of wretched redemption, tears drained and sweat swirled with blood.  But by God’s grace I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not ineffective.  So I proclaim, 

and may you believe.  

I proclaim that which is most important and I proclaim my stance on Christ and I proclaim how I got there and why and I proclaim acceptance to all people because of the grace I have received and I proclaim love to all people because of the love I have received and I proclaim gratitude because it is truly the only emotion I have the right to feel. 

I pray my proclamations may bring others to believe and through their belief, have hope.  Hope that the sun comes out in the morning.  That joy comes after the rain.  That peace can reign.  That love conquers all.  By God’s grace.

Yes,

And.

You and I owning our need for it.

Photo taken by Natalie Watson.

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Lesson #35 that I hope to teach my kids, especially my daughter.  (Maybe I’ll list them all one day… if I actually write them down.)

It’s not a myth, or an unattainable attribute that we idealize yet so often flip when we find ourselves in its grasp.  It’s easier to drop.  walk away.  push back.  defend.   conform and agree.  Anything is easier but to listen, stay, and love.

Perhaps you, like me, are resting and wrestling in the tail-end of the beloved gospels this week.  Sitting opposite the tomb as men struggle with our Jesus.  Running to the room where community awaits.  Trekking to Emmaus with a burning heart.  Watching the skeptic brother touch His wounds. Praying ears would gather every syllable He says before ascending. Burning fish on the shore.  Eating. lots of eating together.

You know, dear friend, not every disciple agreed.  Not every disciple trusted and believed.  Not every one of the twelve, or even the eleven said, “Yes, our heart is one!”  No, those Jews were too human for such perfection.

They argued on who would be the greatest, yes, but I imagine it was much more than that.  I suppose they disagreed on where the money went, where they stayed the night or sat at the table. I suppose some left minding to some believed-to-be-urgent business and later returned.  I suppose that made some of the others mad.  Jealous.  Insecure.  Prideful.

Sort of like me.  Probably, if you’re honest, like you as well.

The eleven disciples didn’t believe Mary when she and the other women burst through the door with the news Jesus was risen.  John and Peter ran to check the tomb.  Sometime that day, Thomas left.  Two other disciples (not from the original 12) left also and headed to Emmaus.  They came charging back, of course, with the same astounding news and new revived hearts but Thomas missed their announcement.  He wasn’t there.  He missed that time Jesus first appeared to the boys, but returned and caught it eight days later.

I wonder what Jesus did during that week of waiting and wondering. I wonder what they all did that week.  The eleven, and the 72, and the women, and the mothers, and the children, and the Pharisees turned Jesus lovers, and Pilate’s wife, and the centurion, and the soldiers who guarded the tomb.  What about Cleopas’ wife, if he had one.  Who was keeping their house in Emmaus when he and his companion invited Jesus to stay a bit longer.  Did the women of the house see Jesus break bread as well? Or were they back in Jerusalem with the others?  Was there a servant to wash his feet? 

What questions grated against Peter’s heart in the days after Jesus rose, yet before his reinstatement.  I suppose he was wrecked with agony.  Thomas as well.  Judas was so wrecked with hopelessness that he left himself hanging from a tree.  

I suppose Mary was quite filled with giddiness and joy and perhaps that irritated many others.  What a week of anguish and questions, heartache and ecstasy, solid black and white curtains ripped in two leaving a frayed fabric of gray.

Not all good.  Not all bad.  But both.  Not yes or no, but both.  Both, and.  (As my friend, Marla says.)  Or “Yes, And” as Richard Rohr puts it.  

There are too many colors for the world to name each one, and there are too many questions for the world to answer each one.  Sometimes we just have to live in the gray.

What is constant and stable is the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ and His blood redeeming all people.  All the theological threads and doctrinal patches are just extras to keep us secure and hopeful to catch more of Jesus.

Peter, James, John, Mary, Thomas, Cleopas, Simon, Nicodemus, Joseph… they didn’t agree on everything but they stayed in community. They returned grace to each other that was learned from their Master.  They left space for questions in a safe environment.  Judas isolated himself, but Thomas remained in community.  He battled his beliefs while belonging.  

I supposed the followers of Jesus hid these in their hearts filed with many other questions and confusing stories they heard Him tell.  Yet within a few years they would comprehend each blessing with a piercing and personal truth.  They, who are the poor in spirit, mourning, humbled and meek, merciful and thirsty for redemption.

Honestly, anyone whose world has been wrecked, whose pride has been stripped away, who has been left venerable and can perhaps self-identify with the Beatitudes will understand what it means to live in the gray.

Blessed are the grays.

We know that no one is better than us.  That we are no better than others.  That we are sometimes right and sometimes wrong.  That we can be friends anyway.

Photo taken years ago by Natalie Watson (Emori's bff Bella and sister, Ava Campbell).

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My heart is breathing Jesus of Nazareth.  In the rhythmic way of a pulse at rest - waiting.

Waiting on edge for Friday, waiting more expectantly for Sunday.  This week is Holy Week and I find my heart just breathing in Jesus steady and deep.  I thought I would join in the celebration of Palm Sunday and praise our King in exaltation, but honestly I didn't.  I thought perhaps I would sink somberly into the days leading toward his death, but I haven't.  Not yet.

In fact, I've been so steady that I haven't written in over a week because I felt I had nothing to encourage us with.  I've been living in lent and even though the grass is ripening and flowers emerging, my heart is just trudging along in the wake of cross, revealing my flaws and unfortunately others as well.  But not in a painful sort of way (that of course has at times been required in the past).

 My God My God - I am all yours.  I only want to be more like Jesus.  Show me where I fail.

And oh My God, I really don't want to see other people's marks - their resistance to your cross - it makes me feel so judgy. 

I want to live this week like Mary Magdalene lived it over 2000 years ago.  She watched and waited.  No particular agenda apart from being with Jesus.  Breathing in Jesus of Nazareth - slow deep breaths.  Smelling the crowds, the dirt, the palms, the animals for sale in the temple. Watching Jesus' hands as he delivers his last sermons, his eyes piercing particular souls, the tables being turned in righteous truth.  Listening to the clink of money as it falls to the ground, children cry, leaders shout, followers argue.  And waiting.  Confused of course, but loyal. Steady.

Confident because she knew where she came from with all her demons haunting and who saved her from the madness.  It mattered not what people thought of her nor where she was going.  All that mattered was being with Jesus. Dead or Alive. 

She watched it all.  The passion, the wine, the blood, the nails. The earth shakes, the curtain rips, the boys leave. Joseph and Nicodemus struggle with the body. The trek to buy linen. The overload of myrhh. The heavy stone. The guard.

The sorrow of Saturday pressing every breath out of her.  Waiting.  One breath at a time.  Let's just get through this day. 

With Sunday's companion the Mary's go back with love.  Panic.  Dropped oils and a race to the boys.  Hearts burn as the race doubles back to the tomb.  Peter and John are ahead, not only are they faster, but this is the third time she runs down the path this morning.  They confirm he is gone and leave.  But not Mary.  She stays and waits.  Watching.  Waiting.  Until he calls her name.

My God My God, My Lord My Lord.  Breath your Spirit into me.  And he did.

Advent is to watch and wait while Lent is to self discover.  May this week be a time of both.

Photo taken by Natalie Watson

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I love communion.  I know some places and people feel they should only take communion from ordained ministers, or only on special occasions, or perhaps weekly on the Sabbath, but I like to take it myself at any time, any place, any day.  It started years ago after reading With Burning Hearts: a meditation on the Eucharistic Life by Henri Nouwen.  I honestly don't remember a word in it, but I do recall sometime in the midst of readying it dawned on me that I can break bread with Jesus all by myself any day.

My kids have therefore grown up giving themselves communion sporadically whenever their mama decides to spark interest.  But typically the matzah goes stale and the grape juice is slurped down with after school snacks without being replenished.  (Welch's grape juice is much more expensive than cheap apple juice!)  I also must note that there is something about taking communion with actual matzah swirled with dark juice that triggers a deep love and gratitude for Jesus within me.  It certainly isn't more holy than fresh baked bread and at times I'll swap out the juice for wine, but my go-to is Welch's with classic unsalted matzah.

On Ash Wednesday I decided that our family should have an opportunity to take communion every day through the Lenten season.  I wanted to make it easy, available, quick (because life calls for this).  So I stayed up that very night and noted 40+ verses that I felt our Oaks' Family should read.  These are the verses that I wanted my kids to be familiar with.  I wanted them to see how many of the positive life lessons they hear from culture actually come from the Holy Scriptures.  I wanted them to read by themselves some of the words Jesus tells us.  I wanted our whole family to hide the same scripture in our hearts each day - I believe there is power in that.

So I'll list the 40+ verses if you would like to use them for your own family.  They are short and clumped together in weekly themes.  Simple enough for elementary kids to read on their own.  And simple enough to take us grown adults back to the basics of faith.  Our family reads the verse on their own, sometimes aloud or with a sibling or two, and takes communion by themselves.  Typically taken before school, but sometimes before bed or whenever we all can grab a moment to do it.  I try to catch a 9, 11, 13 or 15 year old interpretation from time to time, but that doesn't always happen.  I placed an open Bible with tiny cups for juice and a box of matzah right by the kitchen sink, thinking this was the easiest spot for a busy family.  One day I'll look back at splashed water stains on the pages or crumbs in the creases and praise God that a messy house can make a holy book even sweeter.

OUR DAILY QUESTION FOR THIS SEASON:

Where in my life have I gotten away from God and how can I find ways to return to Him with all my heart?

nothing has to be done in order... just pick a week and stick to it for a handful of days.

week 0

Ash Wednesday - Sunday 

1. Isaiah 40:3-5
2. Isaiah 43: 1-2
3. Isaiah 43: 18-19
4. Isaiah 53: 5-7
5. Isaiah 55: 10-12

week 1

1. Psalm 1: 1-3
2. Psalm 23
3. Psalm 42: 1-2
4. Psalm 55: 16-19
5. Psalm 66: 1-5
6. Psalm 139: 13-14

week 2

1. Proverbs 3: 1-6
2. Proverbs 3: 9-12
3. Proverbs 3: 21-26
4. Proverbs 4: 20-27
5. Proverbs 11: 13-14
6. Proverbs 12: 24-25

week 3

1. Proverbs 16: 3-4
2. Proverbs 16: 9
3. Proverbs 16: 23-24
4. Proverbs 22: 4, 6-7
5. Proverbs 28: 13
6. Proverbs 28: 23

week 4

1. Romans 8: 1-2
2. Romans 8: 15-17
3. Romans 8: 26-27
4. Romans 8: 28
5. Romans 8: 31-32
6. Romans 8: 37-39

week 5

1. Ephesians 1: 17-18
2. Ephesians 2: 4-7
3. Ephesians 2: 8-10
4. Ephesians 3: 16-19
5. Ephesians 3: 20-21
6. Ephesians 4: 25-27

week 6

1. Ephesians 4: 29-32
2. Ephesians 5: 1-2
3. Ephesians 5: 8-15
4. Ephesians 5: 16
5. Ephesians 5: 17-20
6. Ephesians 6: 1-4

* Photo taken by Seaton Shoots Photography on the best day of my life, my wedding day.  Me and my beloved friend.

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I am 37 years old, consider myself to be brave, a risk-taker, adventurous.  I try to teach my only daughter to be brave, to disregard what other people think, please stay true to your inner heart where God dwells.

But still I struggle daily with feelings of inferiority that culture settles on my shoulders, subtly pressing down secretly growing heavier.  Some days I realize that my dreams are hiding in the junk drawer with courage as their companion.  Some days I happen upon them, fiddle with them a bit, write a bit, open up a bit, speak truth a bit.  Then get distracted when daily tasks demand attention, and out into the world I go, passively accepting the feminine place without even knowing it.

I believe our culture unintentionally teaches kids to strive for perfection, and yet also intentionally teaches them to be well rounded. 

I believe God created all people equal.  Men and women.  Little girls and little boys.  All colors.  All races.  All people.  I believe our culture is shifting closer to that and yet unfortunately along the way is dropping ethical morale by the street.  (But that's another story.)

This morning I watched a TED talk by Reshma Saujani, founder of Girls Who Code, entitled, "Teach Girls Bravery, not Perfection."  I highly recommend all parents of daughters, all teachers, ministry leaders, and lovers of little ladies to watch it.  I love that it encourages girls to gain a more substantial place in technology development, but I mostly love Reshma's heart to teach girls how to be courageous and brave instead of feeling we must, as women, always attain perfection.  Look perfect, speak perfect, work perfect, love perfect.  It's stifling to say the least, and crushes bravery with the fear of failure before she can even step out the door.

I pray for courage - so much courage that my daughter feels it's normal to be brave.  I pray for a supportive network of courageous women and girls to cheer her on.  I'm thankful for her courageous father whose belief in her is a strong foundation.  

Perhaps it is the dads and men who can first show courage and give blessing to their daughters to be exactly who God called them to be in this world. May they throw their daughters into the air and watch them fly.  May they be there when they crash, only to help them back up again.

May the dads tuck their little girls in each night and remind them not just who they are, but whose they are.  You belong to God.  He made you perfect.  Flawless.  And with purpose.  So in that promise you can run and not grow weary - you can try and not be judged - you can fail and try again - you can fall and be forgiven.  You will be loved no matter what.  I believe in you.  I trust you.  I am proud of you.

May our men be our greatest cheerleaders.  Dads, husbands, brothers, even bosses.

*Photo taken by Natalie Watson in 2004.  My husband swinging his baby girl, who is now 13.

"Women have been socialized to aspire to perfection and are overly cautious... therefore we take less risks in our careers...

...For the american economy, for any economy to grow, to truly innovate, we cannot leave behind half our population.  We have to socialize our girls to be comfortable with imperfection and we gotta do it now!  We cannot wait for them to learn how to be brave (like me, when i was 33 years old).  We have to teach them to be brave in schools and early in their careers when it has the most potential to impact their lives and the lives of others.  And we have to show them that they will be loved and accepted not for being perfect but for being courageous."

“...because when we teach girls to be imperfect and we help them leverage it we will build a movement of young women who are brave and who will build a better world for themselves and for each and every one of us."

Quotes by Reshma Saujani, founder of Girls Who Code in her March 2016 TED talk

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Three of us showed up at NewSpring Church for Perry’s 2016 Leadership Conference last week.  Drove through the night.  Slept in a cheap hotel.  Rushed in a bit late to a distant row in the balcony.  Squeezed past three conservative observers who didn’t seem delighted to have us climbing over them at each break.  They peered over the rims of their glasses; I hoped i didn’t slosh my coffee onto their leather bibles.  

We settled in.  I reviewed the schedule for the day observing the precise details the marketing crew far from overlooked.  I love paper and pencils, print and fonts.  

Perry Noble spoke.  Lisa Terkeurst.  Mark Driscoll.  Brad Cooper.  Steven Furtick.  Dave Ramsey.  Music dispersed throughout.  

At the end of the day, we drove through snowy mountains toward home.  Thick, wet, snowflakes shimmered in headlights and smeared across the glass.  Wipers squeaked.  Thick, wet, words of six sinners and saints silently fell from the dark sky and smeared across my mind.  Truth squeaked unscripted.  A raw edge, unedited comments, and guttural sighs that the mic wouldn’t let slip by unnoticed. 

I suppose Perry unintentionally set the stage for the five that followed by his willingness to be fully real, as usual, along with the spirit in NewSpring’s auditorium that proclaims no one is any better than anyone else.  So in that spirit, each speaker, well prepared I’m sure, had a moment of unscripted truth that was caught and proclaimed by the ever spreading, never erasing, technology of today.  And that was my favorite part.

Steven Furtick* said

YouTube plays in the background, probably to mask the silence so I don’t have to deal with what’s going on inside my heart.

A raw-edged truth: I know I’ve got stuff to deal with in my heart but I don’t want to.

Lysa Terkeurst* confessed

my reaction would not be of love so God waited.  He withheld the breakthrough I was so earnestly seeking until He knew I would give a reaction of love.

Truth: no matter how godly the world thinks I am, I still can react in a way that brings sorrow.  

Perry Noble* reminded us that

Beth Moore once said, ‘if we cannot give each other grace, then there will only be 12 of us left’… I believe his (Driscoll) best days are ahead of him.”

Truth: all the great preachers of the world need equally as much grace and it’s not a question of if they will screw up, but when they do will their colleagues bestow on them the grace that Jesus teaches?  Not seven times, but seventy times seven.  

Mark Driscoll* said

“You (Noble) and I together are a little bit of a risk factor… but you were kind to me.”  I’m either at tremendous peace with God or I’m checked out. 

And in reference to politics, 

“I can say it because I don’t have a staff.”

Truth: kindness trumps logic and reaches deep to our morrow to build us back up.

Truth: sometimes when our souls are so conjoined with the Almighty, we appear drunk or absent from the world.  It’s because we are in His world.

Truth: even with the ideal team around us, we still will be judged - in this world.  

Brad Cooper* encouraged us

As leaders ask lots of questions.  Perhaps the reason kids are always asking, “WHY?” is because they have yet to develop the self-awareness and egotistical mindset that builds our pride as adults.  Kids aren’t yet prideful like us.

Truth: Jesus knew the whole of “You must become like a little child to enter the kingdom” while we are just brushing the tip of the iceberg.

Dave Ramsey* fired out,

“Capitalism chews up lack of excellence and spits it out.”  He told us to have logic, but at the end of the day, bust it and get up and Run!

Truth: culture’s mediocrity and apathy poisons biblical work ethic. 

Truth: safe logical decisions can stifle God-given passions - especially if fear has not first been overcome.

Their outlined 60-minute sermons were great, yes, but it was the one-line, fired up, unscripted, laughable, cryable, raw-edge truth that brought them off the stage and face to face with thousands of mirrored sinners whose skeletons are offered a moment to come out unashamed.

* These are NOT word for word quotes from the speakers, rather the paraphrase from my memory three days later.  Each one gave a fantastic presentation and my hope in writing this blog entry was to share some of the wisdom they shared with us.

be perfect.  be.  perfect.  be.  just be. 

I am perfect.  I am.  

You are nothing.  Without Me.  

says He.

i am perfect.  i say.

today.

Bits and pieces of Jesus’ words in Matthew 5 saunter through my mind pacing leisurely around the room while I sit in the center, minding my own business, much like Mr. Darcy writing his letters, yet aware of the graceful stroll.  Inwardly keen to the purposeful strut of Caroline bound to the flee spirit of her subject, Elizabeth.  Outwardly seeming not apathetic, but rather preoccupied.  I have better things to do.  I am busy.

Jesus says, “Be perfect.” 

This very line was the focal point of two of my favorite teachers of the word just this week.  Jim Branch wrote a great blog about it that Chad shared with me, you can find by clicking here.  And Tom Job spoke about it here.  Perfection.  You should check them out.

Two free spirited opinions bound with the purposeful confident words Jesus spoke to his disciples in the fifth chapter of Matthew, which I meditated on one morning this week at Chick Fil A.  These three walked the room of my mind.  One fully aware of His purpose, the other two oblivious, just being and joining.  And I sat central at my desk.  Working, loving my kids, loving my hubby, loving other kids, writing some, not cooking much, resting some, wrestling some.  But still aware of the consistent drift, patiently awaiting my attention.

i stop.  wait.  listen.  focus.  breathe.

Be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.  Blessed are the meek.  Cut off your hand if it is bringing you trouble.  Turn your other cheek.  Be more righteous than the Pharisees if you want to get into paradise.  Say simply yes or no.

i close my eyes tight.  sometimes, Jesus, you are so… weird.  odd.  just not super friendly.  but I would rather have an honest friend who loves no matter what than a pretty one that is sweet and hides her wounds.  i am a wounded wretched mess.

You are the light of the world.  A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.  Let your light shine forth so they can see your good deeds and glorify your Father in Heaven.

i feel that is pride.  i am conflicted and confused.  do i tell the world all my pain and lessons? i desire to be meek. pride has crushed me and i now see the evil that hides in it’s delightful skin. do i write more about what you are teaching me? i feel that is prideful.

Go to your people and tell them all the Lord has done for you.  How He has had mercy on you.  Let your yes be yes.  Or no.  But trust.

sometimes i like the gray.

Sometimes the gray is okay.  

sometimes it’s not black or white or even a shade of gray.  it’s just clear.

Sometimes.

damn it.

Do not swear an oath at all, it is the City of The Great King.

i am nothing.

You are nothing.  without Me.

“Therefore be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect,” - Matthew 5:48 (NIV, ESV, NAS, NLT, even KJV minus the ye)

“Therefore, be shlemim (complete), even as is your Av shbaShomayim.” (Orthodox Jewish)

(Arabic) فكونوا انتم كاملين كما ان اباكم الذي في السموات هو كامل

full = كامل / كاملين 

Ἔσεσθε οὖν ὑμεῖς τέλειοι ὡς ὁ Πατὴρ ὑμῶν ὁ οὐράνιος τέλειός ἐστιν.” (Greek)

τέλειοι = perfect (masculine plural) you folks are

τέλειός = perfect (masculine singular) I am

teleios = fully-developed, mature, complete

Be mature and complete, not lacking in anything.

Consider it pure joy when you face trials… so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking in anything. (James 1:2-4)

Be perfect, dear child, as I am Perfect.  Be who I made you to be.  Be complete.  Mature.  Full.  You know who you are because you know Me and I live in you.  Trust me in you for I am perfect.  Know yourself, your yes, your no.  Know the hand that causes you to stumble and don’t use it.  Know Me in the enemy that hits your cheek and turn to him your other side.  Know the righteousness inside of you that is only there because of Me and praise your Father that He has made you clean.  Know the righteousness and don’t be ashamed but show it to the world.  Show your neighbor the light inside of you that shines more crisp because of our wounds.  Be perfect.  Just Be.  This is freedom.  Feel free to be you.  And you, dear child, are meek and blessed. 

i think i’ll look up meek tomorrow.  or later than that if i’m truly honest.

i smile.  

and thank God for classic writers like Jane Austen who create such authentic characters that reveal the pride and longing of our own souls as we read their mistakes and confessions, and then celebrate their freedoms.  and i thank God for wisdom from Tob Job and Jim Branch and my beloved Chad Oaks who are delightfully humble strong men.

Photo taken by Natalie Watson

I am no better than you.  You are no better than me.

Sometimes life is that simple.

And also that hard.

Photo by Natalie Watson

What apps should I let my kids download?

School is out today.  Not for snow, not for a holiday, not for beloved spring, fall, or summer break, but for sickness.  The flu has splattered it’s way into homes and hallways, churches and classrooms, fields and friends.  It hit us too.  

As I lay in bed, wishing my door was locked, my kids were quiet, my head would simmer, I perused the steadfast Facebook and occasioned the flitting images of Instagram.  If I found a good quote or scripture that hit home, I might even tweet it out.

I’m not a diehard social media fan.  I’m not even a mediocre stalker of diehard FB fans.  I’m probably in the lower tier of users who mainly get online to post something work related or to check the authenticity meter between reality and fantasy world of some of the many teenagers we love.  How are they doing?  It it real?  Should we worry?  

A few thoughts on teens, tween, and those kids who desperately want to be older:

Our children do not communicate the same way we did when we were kids.

They do not communicate even the same way other kids did five years ago.

They prefer to text than talk.  

It’s not necessarily a bad thing.  It’s just a thing.  It’s where they are.  It’s the culture they live in.  As adults, we can either embrace it and love them in it, or refrain from it and shut them out.  

I would encourage parents to embrace it, teach them appropriate social media etiquette, protect them as best you can, and give them the tools they need to make it in this crazy world.

The minimum age to open an account in Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Tumblr, Kik, and Snapchat is 13 years old.  In Vine and YouTube, it’s 18.  (YouTube allows children to open one under a parent’s account).  These rules are in place for your child’s legal protection. (COPPA, Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act)  But I know plenty of kids under 13 who have Facebook pages, Pinterest accounts, and are very active on Instagram.  Our 12 year old daughter has been pleading with us to let her get Instagram, and we are considering it.

These are the rules that we have established in our home for our kids, currently age 8, 10, 12, and 14.  I don’t judge those parents who have different rules, these are just the ones that work for us right now.  Several parents have asked, so here it is:

Age 12, you can have a phone.  Help us pay for it.

Age 12, maybe you can have an Instagram account.  Depends on why you want it.

Age 13, you can have Twitter and Instagram if used appropriately.  Do you REALLY want Facebook?  If so, fine. 

RULES for Instagram and other Social Media:

• Selfies are for faces
• No kissy faces - (no duck face)
• No sticking your tongue out
• Your accounts must be Private

RULES for phones and devices:

• No electronics at the dinner table (when we do actually sit down).  This goes for my husband and I as well, and the kids call us out more then them!
• No electronics after 9:00 pm (this will go up as our kids get older, but honestly, what good thing happens after midnight?)

What about other Social Media Platforms?

Instagram - keep it private

Facebook - keep it private

Vine - no, absolutely not[this is a 6 second video creation app.  I asked my 14 year old about it and he said most of it is cursing.  In case you want to see, here is a snippet of the latest Vine Videos] http://www.vpeeker.com 

Tumblr - iffy (This is a micro-blogging platform.  Beware if your kid is depressed, has the tendency to lean towards darkness, eating disorders, or other harmful situations)

SnapChat - no.  Please no.  I know there were original scares that have sense subsided about pornography on this site.  We do not allow SnapChat on our devices nor encourage SnapChat for our young friends.  It’s too easy to get into bad situations with SnapChat.

Twitter - ok (just follow them)

Pinterest - ok (keep an eye on their boards, also a scary place for eating disorders)

Whisper - no (this is a site where you post anonymously and receive anonymous messages.  You can go to the homepage and see for yourself http://whisper.sh) 

Kik - no (instant messenger system for smartphones, and has become a popular place for texting) you can use your phone to text whomever you have as a contact

Pheed - no, not until I know more about this one (this is a video app that allows users to livestream whatever they are doing at that moment)

Creepy - no, seriously - it’s in the name!  (this app uses a person’s Twitter and Facebook id to track their exact location.  That is creepy.)

Dribbble - yes (but they probably don’t want it. This is basically a visual twitter for designers and creatives.)

MUSICAL.LY - i just added this one (Feb 2016) and my 9 year old is crazy about it, along with my 13 year old daughter.  I has the potential to be dangerous (like any site) but seems harmless if you confirm that your child's account is PRIVATE.  (And I am logged in as one of my kids on the app on my phone).

What about younger kids?

My 8 and 10 year old boys really enjoy RoBlox.  It is a Minecraft like game with social media integrated.  My teenager even got into a religious conversation with a fellow builder on Roblox and shared the gospel!  

My 12 year old daughter was pretty active on Edmodo when their classroom used it.  It is a great platform for them to chat with each other in a safe environment.  If you have younger kids who really want to get on Instagram or Facebook, I’d encourage a group of friends to all get on Edmodo and create a class for them.

There are too many!  How can I keep up with all this?

My husband and I work with teenagers, we have four kids, and are pretty tech-savvy, but we still can’t keep up with the fast pace of new apps and upgrades.  We haven’t put protection on our home computers (comment if you have advice!), but have put some parameters around the devices.  We are all Apple fans.  We have Apple computers, iPods, iPhones, iMacs, and iPads… this makes it much easier.  I just created iCloud accounts for all my kids, set up my husband and I as the parent/guardian for our Family Account, and turned on “Ask To Buy” for all our kids.  Each child has their own settings.  Some can get apps for ages 7+, some for 14+, I restricted internet that has mature ratings, because our kids sometimes use our phones and neither one of us wants to pop on a random explicit page anyway.  When our kids want to purchase an app or download a free one, we both receive an alert with a link to the specific app wanted.  If it’s outside their age limit, they can’t request it anyway.  We immediately know what they want and are usually happy to let them get it!

I also created NetFlix accounts for our three younger kids, one for the teenager, and a third for us parents.  They all have access to specific age appropriate shows (not that I really want them watching them, but I give and take when I can).  They can just as easily click on the other account and watch adult shows, but we will know because it shows the history.

My kids ask, “Why all the fuss?”

Because we love you.  “Every rule is for your health and safety.”  They’ve heard that all their lives.

Cyber bullying is real and kids have even killed themselves over it.  We have known some who have gotten pretty close to it even in our small town!

You can connect with your friends through cyberspace, but you also have to learn how to work out situations with your siblings through talking.  You still have to play outside and read words written on actual paper.

Kids, by nature, do not yet have the mental maturity to think about the consequences of their actions… not in the way adults do.  This includes teenagers.  We want to do the best we can to set our kids up for success, let them learn from their mistakes, but also not walk into traps.  And the world has set many traps that lure them right in.

Other good resources:

https://www.commonsensemedia.org/social-media/what-age-should-my-kids-be-before-i-let-them-use-instagram-facebook-and-other-social

http://www.bewebsmart.com/app-review/parents-guide-to-instagram/ 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/michael-gregg/8-scary-social-network-sites-every-parents-should-know_b_4178055.html 

http://secretkeepergirl.com/_blog/how-do-i-talk-to-my-daughter-about/how-do-i-talk-my-daughter-about-duck-lips/

originally written sometime in early 2015 and one of the few salvaged from an old blog.

obviously this photo is not artwork of Natalie Watson... but rather my scrappy attempt to visually warn against social media.

Are you overwhelmed?

August is closing in.  The corner is close and September approaches and I think in just a few more weeks I’ll be sane again.  I’ve forgotten birthdays, meals, and even meetings I was to lead.  Once the schedule is routine, classes are comfortable, house is somewhat clean, dinner has the potential to be made.  Once dates have an opportunity to reappear, ministry becomes rhythmic, volunteers are trained.  Once bosses and clients are serene from their own desire to accomplish the exact list above or whose spouses have nested the family for fall and they have had their own share of dates and naps and family dinners… once all that happens, then I’ll be good.  Surely just a few more weeks.  Once that happens I won’t be so forgetful.  Hey family, let’s just get through this season.

Is your soul echoing the demands and subsequent excuses that mine spills out?  Are you overwhelmed?  Forgetful? Tired?

Last night we had 40 kids in our living room.  Squeezed on the couch, pushed against the wall, cramped on the floor.  Music blared, pizza disappeared, coke spilled.  Chaos sweetly contained and guided towards Christ by God’s mercy and laughter.  Last night all flowed toward the truth that your identity is defined by Jesus, not other people.

My identity is defined by Jesus and what He says about me.

I am worthy.  I am forgiven.  I am loved.  I am a delight to my King.  So are you.

Eye contact followed, then prayer and graces.  Kids filed out, parents waved and cars rolled away.  It was dusk and the music remained.

But as I reflect about last night, the memory that stands out so vivid to me is Landon sitting on our porch swing, arm open for our eight year old, Abram to lounge against.  Headphones on and completely drawn into his own cyber world, he rested and rocked and just sat.  The calm before the storm was the tagline attached to the Instagram photo #LastNightAtFuse.  And I’m reminded of the dire need for calm moments before the storm of the day.

I’m not talking about a 10 minute devotion before rushing out the door, although I would encourage myself to have one.  Nor am I talking about prayer, which now lives in each breath I take.  I’m not talking about community with believers, although it is of utmost importance to live real with another friend.  I’m not talking about worship as America uses the word for singing and church and sermons and challenges, but please know it is crucial as well for our growth as believers.  Nor am I talking about serving others through the day or pouring out in direct or indirect ministries, although I could not argue the divine rewards of such after seventeen years of pouring and growing, planting and reaping, loving and crying.  To serve is mercy.  Truly it is.

The calm before the storm that I seek is an inner peace that births from my soul conjoined with God Almighty.

That is it.  Simple.  Life altering.

New creation stuff.  Lord Jesus, merge my mind with yours.  Unite my heart with yours.  Slip into my body and control my actions.  By your mercy, because of your selfless act of sanctifying my soul, fuse mine with yours.

Okay, so I said it - I meant it - I prayed it… what now?  How does that happen?  I know it is divine work performed by God alone, but what can I do?  Even if it is just being - how do I “be”?

Teresa of Avila, a spanish nun from the sixteenth century, brought some clarity to my question of how to live in the calm before the storm in her notable, Interior Castle which I will very roughly paraphrase to answer my own intrigue.  The following is from her section entitled, “Wonderful Capacities” and references abstaining from earthly pleasures yet personally brought insight on how to live in the calm and therefore how to survive the storm.

Reason tells the soul how mistaken it is in thinking earthly pleasures are of the slightest value in comparison with what it is seeking.  Faith instructs the soul in what it must do to find true satisfaction.  Memory reminds it how all of those pleasures come to an end… The will inclines the soul to love God, the One in whom it has seen so many acts and signs of love.  In particular, the will shows the soul how this True Lover never leaves it, but goes with it everywhere and gives it life and being.  Then the understanding comes forward and makes the soul realize that, for however many years it may live, it can never hope to have a better friend… It is reflections of this kind which vanquish devils.

Use your body, as I learn to use mine.

Reason first.  Form mental judgements by logic, convicted of the times earthly pleasures have failed me.  Remember when I sought them to fulfill God-given needs and was left empty and broken.  Watch in others how the poison of earthly pleasures misguides them.  Money, passion, possessions.  Don’t forget previous judgement calls - good ones and failed ones.

With reason concluded, act in faith.  Faith will point towards true satisfaction which is found in Christ.  Faith is not a feeling, rather an action. (Elizabeth Elliot).  Act in faith, being obedient to what divine reason has instructed you to do.  Faith will not fail you.

Memory may be stored in the mind, but is triggered by the heart.  Rely on your heart, the heart of Christ, to dwell on His faithfulness.  Allow your heart to bring up memories of answered prayers and those unanswered that you are now grateful they remained so.  Praise God for His promises to the hundreds of people in our Bible and in our hearts.

Even if the feelings we desire are not there, we must still will our soul to love God.  Teresa of Avila earlier writes, “However feeble such prayers may be, God values them highly.”  He takes our crumbs and pennies and frantic searches and blesses them.

Then understanding will come.  That is the peace we seek; the calm before the storm where we long to dwell.  An understanding that all is God’s and He is all.

Daniel, in his own ways, urged King Nebuchandnezzar to love the authority of God.  It wasn’t until his kingdom was stripped away and after years of stormy contemplation that the king glorified our true God.  Drenched with the dew of heaven he declared, “I raised my eyes to heaven and my understanding* returned to me.  I praised the Most High God and glorified Him who lives forever.” (Daniel 4:34)

I use my mind, my hands, my heart, my soul in search for peace.

Reason with your mind asking what is true.

Act in faith with your hands and feet.

Allow your heart to bring up memories of God’s faithfulness.

Let your soul guide will power to settle on God’s goodness and obey.

Anticipate an understanding to come forward and make the soul realize that, for however many years it may live, it can never hope to have a better friend.**

Don’t wait for the storm to come.  Practice the presence of God in the calm knowing that forever and always a storm is around the corner.  Jesus himself pleads for us to be ready.

* "My reason returned to me…” Some translations

** The final part of that sentence is a quote from from Teresa of Avila.

originally written Aug 29, 2014 and one of the few salvaged from an old blog.

photo taken by Natalie Watson

When God sounds silent, and God feels absent, TRUST his presence.

When going through a time of silence, God is always working behind the scenes.  I just don’t know what he’s doing there... but I can trust it is for GOOD because God promises that.  

There were 400 years after the last verse in Malachi (the last book of the Old Testament) and the birth of Jesus, the first chapter in Matthew.  400 years it seemed that God was silent.  On the contrary, God was busy at work setting the scene, leveraging leaders, and preparing people for the tidal wave of His grace.

In the years 400 BC to 4AD, three major cornerstones were built:  Alexander the Great defeated Persia and instilled the Roman empire to reign.  He declared a universal language of Koinia Greek - and all people must learn this language.   The Romans and their empire and leaders improved the transportation system.  All three of these things, a common language, a unified government, an effective transportation system, needed to be in place before the birth of the Savior.  These things aided in the spread of the gospel, so that once Jesus had come and died and risen again the world would meet those who walked with the Messiah, and hear the great news from those who spoke a common language.  The prophesies were fulfilled.

The promises will always be kept.

When God sounds silent and feels absent, I can trust that His promises won’t go untied.

originally written Oct 11, 2013 and one of the few salvaged from an old blog.

photo by Natalie Watson

“When we heard of it [all the Lord had done for you], our hearts melted in fear and everyone’s courage failed because of you, for the Lord your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below.” - Joshua 2:11

Rahab pleads that her heart melted in fear.  I wonder if Rahab’s heart melted in the kind of fear that springs and settles with awe and wonder.  She was in awe at all Joshua’s God had done, in parting the Red Sea and driving out cities before the Israelites, preparing a new home for them.  A new Jerusalem.  I don’t believe the fear was a terror for her own life.  If that were the case, she would have immediately told the guards where the men were.

No.  Rahab’s heart melted in awe at catching a glimpse of a God who cared so much for his people, that he would take no short cuts in preparing their home and assuring the holiness and purity of his people.  Rahab felt the love of God.  She tasted it - and melted.  Love at first sight.  A melting that leaves you helpless and paralyzed and utterly dependent on the only one who can save you.  In that state of melted humility and brokenness, she acted in faith by hiding the men of God, by proclaiming the truth of who God is, and by stating her deep desire for wholeness and her family’s safety. 

And her red rope tied the line of broken saints that led to her savior many generations later.

originally written Aug 27, 2013 and one of the few salvaged from an old blog.

Photo by Natalie Watson