Toddlers and Second Toddlers

I'm a little sleepy right now.  I messed up my night of sleep with a 5am "parenting panic."  Please, please someone comment that you've had at least one of these, so I can know I am not alone in my craziness.

Parenting panics hit me about 2-5 times a year.  Let me describe what my parenting panics entails.  Basically, I wake up from a dead sleep somewhere in between 3am and 6am in panic mode about one of my kiddos, convinced that there is something I'm getting wrong parenting wise.  I lay there unable to go back to sleep.  Sometimes I'll pray.  Sometimes I wake up my husband.  (Please feel sorry for him.  5am parenting convos.  Isn't he the lucky one?)  Most of the time I snoop on their electronics.  I check their phone or computer history.  I feel bad for doing it, that I am am not trusting them more.  Then I try to remind myself that a good parent would monitor their internet, right?  Usually I feel better about 30 min. to an hour later.  I go back to sleep.  The end.

My kids ages are really spread out.  My oldest is 16 years old and my youngest is 4.  I've been told that the teenage years are just the second toddlerhood.  It's true, but yet it's not completely true.  And it is so hard to navigate the when and where of giving freedom and setting down rules.  It is fuzzy for me, and I like black and white.

Yesterday I did something I don't usually do.  I bought fruit snacks.  Back when my oldest was a toddler, I thought I was good at reading food labels because I had been to Weight Watchers, and I bought fruit snacks all the time.  Now I know those things are just candy.  But yesterday my 4 year old's eyes lit up at the store and I said, "Yes, but you can only have one pack a day."

We get home and he throws his 4 year old fit over the fact that he only gets one pack.  We talk it over again, and he finally understands that he is only getting one pack a day.

I wish you could see him run in first thing this morning, one sock, wet pull-up, hair standing up like he's all electrical current, running and yelling, "I want a fruit snack."

He knew he could have one today, and he was going to blow his wad first rattle out of the sack.  I had to laugh.

Right now my 16 year old is at her public high school, and when she gets home, we are going to have a "parenting pow wow."  (Anyone have those?  Come on, I know you guys do.)

This parenting pow wow is going to start with me admitting I was wrong.  We had a parenting pow wow Monday in which we told our girl that we thought she was old enough to take responsibility for her online class that she is taking to make sure she graduates on time.

Really what was going on was I was tired of doling out reminders to do her online class the same way I am doling out those fruit snacks, one pack a day.

We tried giving her freedom (because I wanted my freedom,) and my 5am parenting panic was me realizing she wasn't ready for it.  That I had handed it off because I was tired of being the watchdog, but she's 16 and still needs a her mom to nag her into doing the right thing.  Ugh.  But I hate being the nag.

Having a teenager is hard.  I would wish for them to stay 4, but that age is hard too.  (I need to tell you my 1am scissor scare story from last week.)

You can also feel sorry for my middle child, because he hasn't even been mentioned.

I kid, but, honestly, I married a middle child, 

and they are the best.  I'm an oldest, and usually I'm 

more sick of myself than Jan is of Marcia.

Parenting is a real job, but you don't get to go home from it.  Right now I need to remind myself about GRACE.  Because I need some grace now.  I need some grace at 5am, and I'm going to need extra grace at my afterschool parenting pow wow today.

I have Psalm 145 marked in my Bible as one of my goto parenting scriptures.  I love that verse four says, "One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts." ESV

It is our main job as parents to commend the Lord and make sure that our children, the next generation, will also commend the Lord and declare His mighty acts.

Gosh, that's it?  Easy peasy.  Um.  Not.

So I am thankful that Psalm 145 verses 8 and 9 say, "The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  The Lord is good to all, and his mercy is over all that he has made." ESV

Thank you, God, for your grace and mercy.  Boy, do I need it.  Help me to be more like you, Lord, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.

Enjoy this song from the Parenthood series finale last night.  I've loved this song forever.  James and I played it during our slide show at our wedding.  If you don't think Bob Dylan is the best songwriter ever, I will strongly disagree with you until my dying day.

I can't believe people drink that!

When my husband James was growing up his parents told him the funniest lie.  Are you ready for this?

Beer is made out of horse pee.

It's so hilarious because it is totally believable.  It looks like it could be true, and almost every beer tv commercial in the 80's featured a cowboy or a running horse in a field.  And just think of the froth.

James's dad hated beer.  He had come from an alcoholic home where his dad would leave for periods of time to party and come home mad at everyone.  He said he would always be gone for nearly a week and then come home in a new pair of Levi's, kick the furniture around, and yell at everyone, "Where in the hell have you been?"

So the beer = horse pee lie probably seemed like a good idea.

Just like the old summer camp lies of lean on the counter and you'll get a rash or pee in the pool and it will turn blue, it's prevention of behavior through silly dishonesty.

So when James started telling our kids that beer was horse pee at an early age, I went along with it.  Because funny trumps almost everything in my head and I'm not a fan of beer either.

Just like James and his brother and sister, our kids totally believed it.  Our oldest, Lucy, is a smart one.  She figured out our falsehood pretty quickly.  Our middle child, Andrew, doesn't question things the way Lucy did.  Which lead to a pretty awkward family reunion encounter.  Sorry, Aunt Jackie!

Aunt Jackie (with horror on her face and a beer in her hand):  Did you tell him that beer was horse pee? 

Andrew:  IT IS! 

Me:  Um..... I did.  Well.  Um.

I still feel pretty bad about that one.  But it was funny.  And funny trumps almost anything, Right?  If you know my Aunt Jackie, I think she probably agrees with me.  She laughs more than anyone I know.

Now that you know I lied to my kids about beer, you probably think I'm a parenting genius or a you might be considering reporting me to CPS.  Either way, my kids are going to have a pretty tough time not thinking about horse pee the first time someone offers them a cold one.

My kid's bff's mom's thyroids

This morning I woke up and poured my heart out to God in intercessory prayer for my friend Courtney.  She is having surgery this morning to have her right thyroid removed.  She has a growth, and the biopsy was inconclusive.  As I am writing this, they are removing the thyroid, and then they will be able to tell if it contains thyroid cancer.

Courtney's son is my son's best friend.  This fact makes these events strangely familiar.

My daughter's best friend's mom had the same surgery five years ago.  Her mom's name is Terri.

So whomever my youngest son decides to choose as his best friend.  I feel it would only be fair to warn that boy's mother to keep an eye on her thyroid.

I will never forget the day Terri called me to let me know that she needed her thyroid removed.  I vividly remember being outside cleaning the above ground pool when she called.  I stopped and just let my feet be in the water while I let this serious news sink in and quizzed her on the details of her needed surgery and the possibility of thyroid cancer.

The news that Terri could possibly have thyroid cancer was an even deeper sting because of Terri's circumstances.  Terri's husband Sal was in the very advanced stage of early onset alzheimer's.  Terri and Sal were a few years older than me, but he was very young to be at the stage of alzheimer's that he was at.  It was very certain that, unless God performed a miracle, the girls would be losing their dad soon.  The girls needed their mom.

So I was praying to God even as Terri was giving me the details on the phone, begging God to take the cancer off the table.

Terri told me that because of the timing with insurance coverage, she was going to have to postpone her surgery until she had enough cash to pay for her thyroid to be removed.  I had God on three way, and I was telling Him that this was unacceptable.  If she might have cancer in that thyroid, it needed to be removed as soon as possible.

God answered all of those prayers.  God provided the money for her surgery.  And although the thyroid did have cancer, Terri has been cancer free for years.  The girls lost their dad very soon after that surgery, but they have had their mom.

So I remind myself that God can answer my prayers this morning as I intercede for Courtney.

Courtney's circumstances are different than Terri's but also quite sober.  The same week Courtney realized that she had the growth on her thyroid, her daughter Sydney, who was having digestive problems and stomach pain, was given the a diagnosis of pancreas cancer.  Cydney is only 19, and it is extremely rare form of cancer.

Intercessory prayer is not an easy thing.  We are selfish and self-absorbed creatures.  Sometimes we don't take other people's requests seriously.  We hear their requests and weigh the need in our mind before we take it to the Lord.  We decide how much God, how much faith, how much prayer the request needs.

I'm extremely guilty of this in the classes where I teach children.  They raise their hands and ask for things like "my grandpa is sick" and "my dog ran away."  Well how old is your grandpa?  How sick is he?  How long has that pet been gone?  Do you have other pets?

If I'm honest with myself, I do this with adults too.  I see prayer requests on social media all of the time.  Sometimes I drop to my knees, and sometimes I hit like and send up a "Yea, answer that, God."

Sometimes we are just to immature to understand how serious a request is.  I remember when I was just a teenager and an adult friend from church called to tell me about his dad's cancer.  The conversation went on for quite a while, and as he was talking, I got sucked into the tv show that was playing in the background.  Not one of my proudest moments, but my immaturity is my defense.  I had no scope of the seriousness of what this man was going through.

Imagine the maturity and wisdom Cydney will have after God brings her through this trial at such a young age.

Yes, intercessory prayer is hard, but it is beautifully gratifying.  Although we naturally are self-involved, it feels wonderful to pray for someone else and watch God answer those prayers.  We get to be the cheerleader, the wall watcher (Isaiah 62:6-7.)  We get to take our eyes off ourselves and become invested in what God is doing in our neighbors lives.

Can I ask you to do something for me?  Enjoy this worship and pray for Courtney and Cydney.  Pray that the thyroid will not contain cancer.  Pray God will heal Cydney.  Pray for her surgery on February 12th.  Pray for Courtney's husband Chris.  This is a tough time having both his wife and daughter facing serious illness.

"You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many." 2 Corinthians 1:11

UPDATE:  I received a text from my friend Courtney.  It was noncancerous.  No more surgeries.  No more meds.  Just healing.  God has answered prayers.

But I want one

Yesterday I did something fun and rewarding, but it also made me realize I'm still such a brat.  James and I got to go shopping for supplies for him to take on his mission trip to South Sudan.  This is James's second trip to South Sudan, and he will be staying in a school that also houses orphans living in the capital city.

South Sudan has captured my heart for a few different reason.  The first one is that God used James's first trip to South Sudan two years ago to call us to adoption.  That trip changed the course of our lives.  Every decision we've made in the last two years has been put through the filter of our adoption.

My brothers and sisters in Christ.  This is the church James attended in 2012.

The second reason I love South Sudan is that we've made friends with the South Sudanese refugees here in our city.  Lual and Diana Majok are on fire to reach and disciple our city of Amarillo.  They are an inspiration to me.

Watch this video to meet Lual (He's at 4 1/2 minutes in.):


Who is my neighbor? from Citychurch Amarillo on Vimeo.


Watch this video to meet his wife Diana (She's at 6 minutes in.):


Merry Christmas From Citychurch from Citychurch Amarillo on Vimeo.

Doesn't Diana handing out tracks and videos to Muslim refugees at her job at Tyson foods inspire you?  It does me!  She's amazing.  I wish you could meet their five smart and beautiful children, too.

The third reason I have such a heart full of love for South Sudan is the stories I've heard of the Lost Boys and of their tribal wars.  Most recently, I've been inspired by this movie that was released this year.  If you haven't seen it, you need to watch it.  (Make sure you have some Kleenex handy!)

Clearly I love South Sudan.  I love the people.  I love the children.  I was excited to go to the store and buy goodies, medicine, and other things that would meet the physical needs of the children that James will be ministering to on his trip.

School and orphanage in South Sudan.  This is where the supplies are going.

Let me tell you where the problem came shopping last night.

I was walking around Target, and I couldn't stop myself from seeing objects I wanted.  It was complete ridiculous.  I was buying bandaids and pencils for orphans, and I couldn't help looking at stuff that I wanted.

I need for nothing, and these children need for almost everything.  Oh but the dishes.  And the pillows.  And the hair products.  And all the cute things.  I'm looking around thinking, that would be so perfect on my desk?

What is wrong with me?  Why am I still so wrapped up in consumerism?  I've spent the last few years reevaluating and realigning my materialism, and I'm still so easily sucked in.

After reading Jen Hatmaker's book Seven: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess in 2012, completing the study and fasts from her book in 2013, going to Ethiopia in 2014, I am still struggling.

I'll tell you what my problem is.  I'm a sinner.  Romans 3:23 tells us that we all have sinned.  I'll never measure up.

This is what Jesus told me to do:

"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:19-21 ESV

And He said:

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money." Matthew 6:24 ESV

But I am looking around Target at earthly treasures and loving them.  Why can't I just treasure those sweet little South Sudanese children?  Why can't I just treasure my Savior?

Well, I'm repenting here.  And I am asking the Lord to continue to sanctify me.  I want to serve God and not money.  I want to be a slave to obedience and not a slave to sin.

"What then? Are we to sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means! Do you not know that if you present yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? But thanks be to God, that you who were once slaves of sin have become obedient from the heart to the standard of teaching to which you were committed, and, having been set free from sin, have become slaves of righteousness. I am speaking in human terms, because of your natural limitations. For just as you once presented your members as slaves to impurity and to lawlessness leading to more lawlessness, so now present your members as slaves to righteousness leading to sanctification. 

For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regard to righteousness. But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death.  But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life.  For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 6:15-23 ESV

You may be thinking, "Jennifer, you are being a little hard on yourself.  It's ok to decorate your desk and home.  We need stuff to live."  Let me tell you, I was there.  I felt where my heart was, and it was wrong.  This is such a battle for me, but I am going to continue to strive to please Him.  What Jesus asked us to do was radical and challenging.  It was black or white.  It was something I'll never completely get right here on Earth, but giving Him my whole heart is something to aim for.  Striving to serve only Him is a worthwhile goal.

Healing plane ride

It was Thursday, August 14th, 2014, and Barry, Shelley, Libby, and I boarded our first of three flights that would take us to Africa.  That first flight was from Amarillo to Houston.  We would have a small layover there before flying to Washington D. C. to stay the night.  The next morning would be the long, long, long flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  

My seat is 1A.  I am in the first row, and there is only one seat in my row.  I have a strange view of the cockpit.  Too bad they have to shut the doors during the flight.  That would have been interesting.

There were so many things to wonder and think over on a flight that was beginning a journey to Ethiopia to serve at orphanages.  I had brought my Amharic flashcards for last minute study.  I had endless amounts of music on my iPod.  I had my Bible of coarse.  There was no end to the questions I had about our trip.  I had no idea what to expect.

But the thing I couldn't quit thinking about was the last time I had flown from Amarillo to Houston.

That day was July 21, 2010.

Early that morning, I had gotten a phone call that changed my life forever.

Phones ringing in the middle of the night was a common occurrence that summer.  Citychurch had just contracted with Allstate for security of the building downtown.  James and I were both on the call list.  Anytime someone came in early and set the alarm off  (which happened so often, I can't count) or a homeless person was acting unusual around our building, our phones would ring.  First James's phone would ring and go to voicemail, then my phone would ring and go to voicemail, as we tried to sleep knowing someone else would answer and handle the non-emergency.

That morning, my phone rang first, then James's phone rang.  I was jarred awake with the thought - that is not Allstate calling.  James answered.

My sleepy brain began to swim through likely scenarios.  It landed on one.  My aunt Edna's heart surgery.  Was that it?  My dad had told me she was recovering well before I went to sleep that night.

I could tell it was serious by James's groggy tone.  He hands me the phone saying, "It's your dad."  His news is unbelievable.  My brain will not let it sink in.

Jeffrey is dead.  My little brother has shot himself.

My dad's despair and heartbreak is flooding through the phone into my ear, but my brain builds a fortress.  I am in shock.

I do such random things that morning.  Pack my bag.  I have to be there for my parents.  How many diapers can I fit in this suitcase for my 2 month old Gabe?  I have to take care of my parents.  I have to take care of this baby.  I cook breakfast.  I never do that, but I feel such a need to make muffins.  I watch the news.  Something else I never do.  James buys me a plane ticket.  I look at Jeffrey's FaceBook page.  What was he thinking?  Is he really gone?  He was only 24.

The thing I do not do is cry.  My fortress is up.  My belief that this is real is still nonexistent.

James takes me to the airport.  Gabe and I get on the plane.

As the plane takes off, the only thought remember thinking is, this plane cannot crash.  My parents cannot lose two children in one day.

I have to take care of my parents.  I have to take care of this baby.

I get off the plane.  I get go to get my bags.  There is my mom, my dad, and their pastor.  It is true.  This is really happening.

We ride in the pastor's car to my parent's house.  It is an hour long drive.  When we pull into the driveway, extended family members are waiting.  They have driven from Ft. Worth to be supportive during this tragedy.  As I hug my cousin, Kathy, and the tears finally come.  She is here for me.  She's here to help and support me.  I can let go of the armor.  I let the fortress fall.

These are the memories that roll through my mind as I fly on my mission trip to Ethiopia last August.  But it wasn't all sad.  I had such a gratitude, a deep thanksgiving to God, that I was flying this flight from Amarillo to Houston to do His work, flying for a good reason.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the life He has given me.  As we fly, I hide my tears of loss and thanksgiving.  I was thankful to be sitting alone in my row of one.

It was healing.

I wondered on that flight why God would start that trip out with such an emotional reminder of that day of loss and brokenness I experienced in the wake of suicide.  But it was really a silly question.  Why wouldn't God want to start me in a place of weakness and sensitivity to His Spirit and remind me of my trust in Him?  Why wouldn't God want me to remember my loss before I went and held children who were marked with loss, marked as orphans?

God used my willingness to serve Him to heal my wounds.  This wasn't the first time that serving the Lord would serve me, and it won't be the last.  God has used my ministry to repair my heart over the last four years and refocus my humanity and compassion to serve others.  And in serving others, God ministers to me.

If you have scars and wounds, pray about serving God in some way.  Ask Him what you can do for others.  You may still have a fortress around those scars and bruises, but God has the remedy for healing.

Worship God with me.  

Can we also praise The Lord for xylophones?  They are marvelous.

When the time is ripe

I've heard it said that there are two types of people in the world, those who love Neil Diamond and those who don't.  But seriously, there are two types of people in the world, those who are morning people, and those of us that are sane.

Morning is not my jam.

My motor has to rev for a while before it really gets running.  I've always known this about myself.  This is not new information.  And for years I beat myself up about not being the type of woman that jumps up, pops my Bible open for study, and then cooks my children a nutritious breakfast.  I tried that once, and it just wasn't happening.  (I hope my kids remember that morning I tried and not just their cereal existence.)

Someone finally set me free when I heard someone say, "Study your Bible everyday.  It doesn't have to be at 6am, but pick a time and do it."  I wish I could remember who that was.  I would give them props here and a virtual high five.

When I heard that I didn't have to study my Bible at 6am to be a godly woman, my heart painted it's face, jumped on a horse, and cried, "FREEDOM!"

So I've been set free, but every once and a while I hear or read a word and it shuts me back into that stifling dungeon of perfectionism, falling short of that idealistic woman in my head.

That word is firstfruits.

I love the picture and concept of firstfruits.  I cherish remembering that everything I have is something that God made and truly belongs to Him, and that I can lay the first of my produce and possessions at His feet in honor, love, and worship to my Creator and Provider.

Now that we aren't all walking behind a till and placing seeds in the ground, thank you industrial revolution!!!, this idea of firstfruits has become even more symbolic to us.  Back in Moses's day, God laid down the laws for His people, he asked them to practice the Sabbath and to celebrate Holy days.  He told them to bring the first of their grains as an offering.

There is so much symbolism and foreshadowing of Christ in all of the institutions God set up in Exodus and Leviticus.  Everything that is asked of Moses, Aaron, and those desert-living Israelites points to God as our Father, Jesus as our high priest and Savior, and the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Handing that sheaf of wheat to the priest was setting up God's system of tithing.  But we have to understand that God doesn't need grain.  He doesn't need sustenance to nourish himself the way that us humans do.

Even now, as we tithe, I hope you know that God doesn't need our money.  God doesn't have a bank account He needs to balance or bills to pay.

God wants our heart.  That grain was precious to those people.  They were living in a desert and trying to feed their children.  Giving that firstfruit to God took self-restraint and acknowledgement that God was providing for them.

God is still in the business of hearts.  Tithing the first of our money still takes self-restraint and acknowledging that God provides everything.

My point is that the firstfruit has and always will be symbolic.  And I swoon over the glorious pictures that God paints for us.

My problem comes when we take the firstfruit idea and try to apply it to time.

Time is mysterious.  Solomon wrote about that in Ecclesiastes 3, "There is an occasion for everything and a time for every activity under heaven:...."  We've all heard this part of scripture thanks to the 60's band The Byrds.  (Personally I prefer their song, "So you wanna' be a rock n' roll star."  It's beyond groovy.)

So we might think that our early morning hours are a firstfruit of our time.  I grasp the concepts that lead to that conclusion, and I've heard some testimonies of people who were touched or encouraged in their walk by this analogy.  I've heard women testify that their morning barns were filled and their vats were bursting with new wine. (Proverbs 3:9-10)  I'm happy for them.

But for me, that dog don't hunt.

Think about time with me for a minute.  Right now it's almost lunch time, but in Addis Abba, our little boy we are waiting to adopt is just going to bed for the night.  What time is on the moon where the zones don't apply?  Are our firstfruits our teenage years?  Our twenties?  I hope not.  I've still got time to live and give back to God.  He gives me each second so graciously and generously.

Let me give you non-morning people some of that "FREEDOM."  Give God your best time.  Give God your time that is ripe and fresh and sweet.  For me that is mid to late afternoon.  Figure out what time that is, and lay it at His feet with prayer and study of His precious word to us.  If 6am is your best time, give it to God.  (And I'll try to be friends with you, but I can't promise anything.)

Can I tell you the moment that I realized that I could finally completely let go of my "morning firstfruit" guilt.  My church started having a night service after a decade of not having one.  We started meeting on Wednesday nights last year for worship and Pastor Donnie Lane, Jr. sharing some teaching from the Word.  A few weeks in, my husband and I had this conversation.

Me:  "Wow!  Donnie really saves his deeper preaching for these night services.  He really is digging into the word and revealing some truths." 

My husband, James:  "Not really.  You were just awake." 

Me:  "Ohhhh!  You're right!"

So that happened.  Ha!  Thank you God for giving me a husband that knows me.  My dad also knows me too.  Sometimes when I call him, he answers the phone, "How's my little night owl?"  It's true.

Let these verses encourage you and your heart any time of the day you might choose to read this, to draw near to His Word and Him who was the Word.

"Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water." Hebrews 10:19-22 ESV

Writing this blog has turned into a YouTube session of listing to The Byrds.  So I thought I should share.  Listen to this masterpiece.  The trumpet, the vibraslap percussion, crowd noises, and those lyrics.  Music makes me happy.

How my mom led me to salvation

When I tell my testimony, I always start with a prayer my mother prayed.  That is where it started.

I was twelve, and we had just moved back to the town of Burleson, Texas.  My mom had a deep longing in her heart to have her children in church and to know Christ.  So she prayed this prayer, "Lord, show me where we are suppose to go to church, and I will go."

Before this moment, our family had never been a church going family.  So this was definitely a turning point for my and my whole family.

Now that I am a mom, and I have a daughter that is halfway through her teenage years (Hallelujah!) and a son that is at the cusp of teendom.  I know how desperate that prayer might have felt.

There's worry, then there is worry about your kids worry, and then there is worry about your teenager worry.  It's the most powerless of the three, and the scariest.  You are letting go of all that control you had in those younger years.

Sidenote:  I took a personality quiz and found out I was half control freak and half perfectionist.  The perfectionist part I knew, but I didn't realize I wanted control all the time.  It should have tipped me off that the quiz was right when I wanted to start analyzing the quiz and see if I could rewrite it.  Ummm.  Control?

I've had nights were my worry for my kids has been so intense, I physically hurt all over.  Lord, forgive me.

My mom is not a control person though, she's a peacemaker.  That is why her prayer was so, so brave.  My dad didn't want any part of going to church, and he didn't for years after we started going.  Thank the Lord that my dad's heart was changed eventually.

All of these intense feelings and bravery must be why God loves and answers prayers of mothers.  He can see their hearts.  There are so many examples of God answering mother's prayers.  Hannah, Elizabeth, Mary, Sarah, Rebekah, Naomi, and Hagar all begged God for protection or provision and He delivered in phenominal ways.

God answered my mother's prayer too.  Within a few days, we received a letter from the church just a few blocks away inviting us to attend.

That Saturday my mother came into my room and said, "Tomorrow we are going to church so be ready" is seared into my brain.  It was so unusual and unprecidented.

We started attending South Burleson Baptist Church, and if we haven't, I know my life would not be the same.

When my mom prayed that prayer, she was leading me to Christ.  When my mom bravely took us to church against my dad's wishes, she was leading me to Christ.  When my mom continued to attend church even though it was difficult for her because of her anxiety, she was leading me to Christ.

The night I gave my heart to the Lord, another moment is seared into my memory, and I know it is seared into my mother's memory as well.  It is the memory of standing in front of our neighborhood church and telling my mom that I had asked Jesus into my heart.  God had answered another of my mom's prayers.

What about you?  Are you a mother with prayers for your children?  Are you a child with a praying mother?  Are you a child with prayers for your mother?  Take heart.

Be encouraged by Hannah.  She was praying so passionately to the Lord that the priest Eli thought she was drunk on wine.  Listen to what she told him, and what Eli told her.  The God of Hannah, loves you and wants to answer your prayers.

"'Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for all along I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation.' Then Eli answered, 'Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him.' And she said, 'Let your servant find favor in your eyes.' Then the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad." 1 Samuel 1:16-18 ESV