By Trish Donohue

I'm currently reading the kids "Anne of Green Gables".  It's a stretch for the boys, but I promised they'd like it, despite its lack of explosions and guy stuff.  And they do.  If you haven't read it, Anne is an orphan girl adopted by a pair of elderly siblings who ends up changing the small town through her charming personality.  She gets herself in "scrapes", but always comes out even more lovable than before.  You can't help liking her.

What makes her such a great main character?

• She's passionate about everything:  Nature, learning, friendships.
• She's incredibly imaginative, turning simple life into magical fantasies.
• She's smart as a whip and even her outbursts are insightful.  Her descriptions are stirring, her rhetoric is flawless, her recitations move the town to tears.
• All this, and she remains for the most part a faithful, simple girl.

After reading the book, you want to be like her.  But the fact is, few of us are.  Most of us are, truthfully, not that exceptional.  We're not moving people to tears with our oratory, we're not changing the world with our natural cheer, we're not winning first prize at anything, and we think of good retorts only after the conversation is over.  Some of us are dull, even downright awkward, and pretty un-Anne-like.

Who would bother putting us in their story?

Flip open to 1 Corinthians 1:

For consider your calling, brothers:  not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.

Ouch, but true!

But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

God chose us.  The Author chose us.  Like Moses, Jacob, David, Peter, Mary Magdalene, and so many others on His leading character list, we're hopelessly flawed.  But He chose our slow tongues, our dull minds, our checkered pasts, and incorporated us into His story.  Not only that, but He adopted us orphans as His own children.  Amazing!

The passage ends like this:

And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, "Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord".

It doesn't matter if I'm not impressive:  It matters if I'm "in Christ Jesus".  It doesn't matter if my kids aren't winning blue ribbons and charm contests:  God chooses even the weak.

Unlike the books that we enjoy, what matters in this story isn't the quality of the characters, but the quality of the author who, in this case, really is worth boasting about.

By Trish Donohue

My daughter wanted an ironing board for her fifth birthday.  No kidding.  She’d been asking for one for months. So my mother got her one.  It’s a little pink and white ironing board with a pink wooden iron, complete with a cut-out heart.  We set it up in the playroom, figuring she could iron the dress-ups.  But that wasn’t what she had in mind.  She wanted it upstairs beside mine. 

My ironing board isn’t nearly as cute.  It’s old and creaky, and looking at it doesn’t give me fluffy feelings. I use it as infrequently as possibly, usually 2 ½ minutes before someone needs to have a wrinkle-free piece of clothing on their bodies.  For me, an ironing board is a battleground: hot, steaming slab of steel versus deep stubborn wrinkles caused by clothes sitting in the dryer way too long.  Who’s going to win?  Yes, ironing is war. 

But not for Shannon.  She finds a random piece of clothing, sometimes her old blanket, and very diligently and cheerfully irons every wrinkle.  I thought it a little odd, seeing that she shares my gene pool, but I figured she just thought it was fun. 

One day as her arm was moving back and forth, she said, “Do you know why I like to iron, Mom?” 

“Nope, why do you like it?” I answered.

“Because you do it!”

Simple as that.  She wanted to iron because I iron.  She wanted to be like me, and do what I do.

Yes, it’s a Hallmark moment, a sweet moment, a moment to smile and smooch her chubby cheek.  It’s also a very sobering moment. 

I don’t iron very much, but she noticed that I do it, and she copied me. There are many other things she has opportunity to notice and copy:  the words I say, the tone I use, the way I look at my husband, the things I love, the things I hate, the time I get up, where I have my quiet time, if I have my quiet time, my expressions, my responses, my laughter, my anger, my attitude, my joy.

Children aren’t blank slates waiting to follow a perfect parental example—they are sinners in need of God’s grace. But they sure do learn a lot from us, and what a priceless, serious, wonderful opportunity we have to model godliness for them. 

The two ironing boards are still in my room, a little picture of the opportunity before me these days.  And a big sinner like me needs truckloads of grace to do it well—truckloads of help, of forgiveness, of God’s faithfulness that is new every morning.  But I’ve got it.

His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. (2 Peter 1:3)

In Christ, I have everything I need to iron well.

by Trish Donohue 

Someone is staring at me as I write.  He’s a black and orange Flyer’s player, made of Lego’s and standing on my end table.  Although I’m sure he’s supposed to be vicious, holding his stick so seriously, he’s actually very cute and his orange eyes seem to be smiling at me.

He must not know about Stubey the hamster dying today, or his orange eyes would be crying, like some eyes in our house were earlier.  A friend, no matter how small and furry, is a hard thing to lose.  

Fortunately, we had ice cream sandwiches on hand, which lessened the grief better than any bouquet of flowers ever could. 

Little snapshots at the end of the day:  Flyers Guy, an empty hamster cage, and an ice cream sandwich wrapper that was supposed to be in the trash.  Together representing the joys and tragedies of childhood, the highs and lows of the growing heart. 

Do these snapshots hold any value?  Do we file them under “trivialities” or “childishness” and turn the page quickly?

Jesus says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But even the hairs of your head are all numbered.  Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”

And so it is with our children.  Jesus knows and cares about the tiniest details of their lives, and orchestrates events that point them to him.

A Flyers game, with its jubilant cheers and agonizing disappointments, is an arrow pointing to God.  Where do we put our hope?  What makes us most excited?  What victory do we dream of?

A hamster’s death, with appropriate tears and questions of hamster heaven is an arrow pointing to God.  Time flies so quickly.  What will heaven be like?  Why do things die on this earth?

An ice cream sandwich, with its hydrogenated, processed yumminess and brown cookie crumbs glued to your teeth, is an arrow pointing to God.  There are blessings and treats on earth that come from the hand of a fun-loving, food-loving God.

Do we lecture our kids about all these truths and turn every event into a sermon series?  God, keep us from it!  But help us to seize the opportunities you provide, and wisely show them that you are the end of all they seek.

By Trish Donohue

Have you ever felt dull to your sin?  You know you’re sinning frequently, but you aren’t confessing to God with much specificity or sorrow.  I noticed this in my own life recently and came across this list that George Whitfield, renowned evangelist of the Great Awakening, used daily for purposes of self-examination.

Have I,

1. Been fervent in prayer?

2. Used stated hours of prayer?

3. Used ejaculatory prayer each hour?

4. After or before every deliberate conversation or action, considered how it might tend to God’s glory?

5. After any pleasure, immediately given thanks?

6. Planned business for the day?

7. Been simple and recollected in everything?

8. Been zealous in undertaking and active in doing what good I could?

9. Been meek, cheerful, affable in everything I said or did?

10. Been proud, vain, unchaste, or enviable of others?

11. Recollected in eating and drinking?  Thankful?  Temperate in sleep?

12. Taken time for giving thanks according to (William) Law’s rules?

13. Been diligent in studies?

14. Thought or spoken unkindly of anyone?

15. Confessed all sins?

It’s amazing how quickly a list like this can jumpstart the lazy conscience! 

Consider customizing this list to the specifics of your own life and temptations—not to become more sin-focused, but to grow in our appreciation for the amazing gift of salvation! 

Note: list found in Donald Whitney’s Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life, p. 204.

 

By Trish Donohue

 

Analogies about spring abound.  Poets love to wax eloquent about spring; singers love to croon about spring.  All those themes of growth, renewal, hope, and life get us all worked up and we begin to pontificate—but appropriately.  It is a pretty amazing thing to see the earth moving and growing as it responds to its Creator. 

 

So the kids and I were quoting Robert Frost as we noticed the new yellowish leaves:  “Nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold.”  That is, until we saw our pink azaleas and it turned into, “Nature’s first green is pink,” and of course that rhymed with stink… and you get the feel of the rest of the poetry, complete with giggles.

 

But Robert Frost was right; spring can’t hold her new beauty long.

 

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold. 
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour. 
Then leaf subsides to leaf. 
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day. 
Nothing gold can stay.  

 

The world is so infatuated with spring because it represents all we want life to be.  We want to be young and fresh and growing.  We want to be flowering and beautiful.  We want another chance.  We want beauty to come from the hard ground of our lives.  We want endless potential. 

 

But life isn’t like that, is it?  Eden didn’t stay.  It “sank to grief.”  Because of sin, its beauty faded, its gates closed.  I appreciate a poet who, Christian or not, makes accurate observations about life.  But oh, how I hope that Robert Frost heard and believed the gospel before he died. 

Our hearts long for more than a fading flower—they long for eternity, because they were made for eternity. 

 

 

So here’s my little addendum to “Nothing Gold Can Stay.”  Will you permit me Mr. Frost? 

 

          
            …So dawn goes down to day

            Nothing gold can stay.

            Until One free of blame,

            Bled for all our shame;

            Made an end of sin,

            And conquered death within.

            Our Prince reversed the fall,
            And one sweet day will call:
            “Now dawn goes down to dawn,
             And everything gold can stay.”

By Trish Donohue

 

You know how there are some topics that are a little untouchable?  We don’t usually chat about these over coffee or call a friend for a quick conversation about them.  It’s a little like my daughter’s reaction when I tried to get a splinter out tonight: “Nooo!  Get away!”

 

Well, I think the big green topic of envy is one of them.  If I’m thinking of things I’m willing to confess to others or even admit to myself, envy is probably on the short list of topics to avoid.   Yet if we are honest, we all battle it in some way at some time.  We can envy others’ appearance, children, intellect, personality, homes, style, talents, even spiritual maturity.  The list of envy temptations is exactly as long as the list of things we want in life. 

 

Fortunately our friends on the Girltalk blog have guts!  They are jumping right into a forthright, gracious, helpful discussion on a topic that gets to the heart of the envy challenge.    

 

They recently asked us this question:

 

Envy (like all sin) robs us of peace.  Think about it: have you ever met an envious person who was content, at ease, and happy?  Have you ever envied and been at peace at the same time?  I doubt it. 

 

No!  I haven’t!  You got me.

 

But how about you?  Do you need a more specific description?  Here’s one from Jonathan Edwards that will dig a little deeper:

 

“[A]n envious disposition is…most uncomfortable and uneasy to its possessor….It is like a powerful eating cancer, preying on the vitals, offensive and full of corruption.  And it is the most foolish kind of self-injury; for the envious make themselves trouble most needlessly, being uncomfortable only because of others’ prosperity, when that prosperity does not injure themselves, or diminish their enjoyments or blessings.  But they are not willing to enjoy what they have, because others are enjoying also.”

 

Those are the symptoms.  If you want the prescription, I encourage you to check out the blog (http://www.girltalkhome.com/) and benefit from the wisdom of God’s Word and others who are walking the genuine Christian walk. 

By Trish Donohue

Most Christians have had the experience of reading the Bible and suddenly a passage you’ve read a million times goes slow-mo and it seems like you’re reading it for the first time.  It’s like the Holy Spirit is the director yelling, “Hold it!  Slow this part down!  In fact, rewind it for her!  She’s never gotten this part!” 

 

So I’m reading John the other morning (Isn’t John the most frequently read book?  Haven’t I read it a gazillion times?) and this is the scene I come across in chapter 6:

 

Jesus looks up and sees a mob of needy people heading straight for him, and he says to Philip,

 

“Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” 

 

Philip was probably thinking to himself, “How in the world am I supposed to know?  You’re in charge here!”

 

And just when you’re entering into the panic and worry of the situation, you read the next line, which makes me laugh:

“He said this to test him for he himself knew what he would do.”

 

Of course Jesus knew what he would do.  He wasn’t really wondering.  He wasn’t wringing his hands, figuring out the distance to the nearest Wawa, estimating the size of the crowd.  He might have grinned and watched Philip out of the corner of his eye as he asked the question to see how Philip would respond. 

 

Here’s the paraphrase for my life: 

 

Jesus is walking beside me and looks up and sees a potential problem coming up.

 

“Hey Trish,” he says (maybe with a grin I’m too busy to notice), “What are we gonna do here—this isn’t looking so good.”

 

My typical response is: “I know!  I was thinking that exact same thing Jesus!  Yikes!  It’s all falling apart!  I knew it would!  That plan, that kid, that test, that relationship, that dream—it’s all going down!  Do you mind if I stop for a minute to worry and plan and fret until I figure it out?”

 

I don’t think Jesus says, “Oh, brother,” but I’d understand if he would.  Instead, we know through scripture that he does these things to test us, for he himself knows what he will do.

 

He knows exactly what he will do!  He isn’t confused, overwhelmed, upset, or worried.  He sees the situation clearly, and promises to work all things together for good for those who love him.  And that’s who I get to walk beside.  By God’s grace, I think I’m slowly learning to look over at him when he asks that question, and say, “You know what you’re doing Lord.  You’ll provide all that’s needed.  You always do.”

By Trish Donohue

 

Here’s a riddle for you—complete with my own best guesses…

 

What revives the soul,  (strong coffee?)

Makes simple people wise,  (Cliff Notes?)

Makes your heart rejoice,  (a big tax return?)

Enlightens you,  (People magazine?)

Endures forever,  (a bad haircut?)

Is more desirable than gold,  (a cleaning lady?)

Is sweeter than honey,  (boardwalk fudge?)

Offers great reward? (Botox ads?)

 

I was reading Psalms in my quiet time the other day, and I came across this exact riddle in Psalm 19.  As I read it, my eyes opened wider and my grogginess wore off.  I was thinking, “Hey, I need all this stuff!”  My soul needs to be revived, I need wisdom desperately, my heart needs to rejoice, I need to be enlightened, and I definitely want great reward.  This is quite a sales pitch.  And since I found it in the Bible and not in a magazine, it’s got to be true!

 

So are you ready?  The answer is God’s Word.  But now that you know the answer, do you feel a hint of disappointment?  Are you thinking, “Oh, it’s a spiritual answer—there really isn’t anything real and practical that accomplishes all of that.  Bummer.”

 

Those are your idols talking (well actually, they’re mine, but you probably have some of your own.)  They’re jealous because they want you to look to them for relief and refreshment.  They like to make the bold promises. “You want refreshment?” they ask.  “Watch me.” “Buy me.”  “Seek me.”  “Lust after me.”  “Trust in me.” 

 

They’re all liars though.  And as God helps us grow in our faith, we’re getting smarter, and we can read Psalm 19 and believe it. 

 

What will revive my soul?  The perfect law of the Lord!

What will make my simple mind wise?  The sure testimony of the Lord!

What will make my heart rejoice?  The right precepts of the Lord!

What will enlighten my eyes?  The pure commandment of the Lord!

 

In other words, God speaks truth, through scripture, into our lied-to hearts.  He’s given us pages full of perfection, straight from his holy, brilliant, clever, creative, sovereign, understanding, amazing mind. And those words and their results bring all that we desire: refreshment, wisdom, rejoicing, enlightenment, righteousness, sweetness, reward!  What a promise!  What a deal!  And no member fees!

 

Our creator knows us so much better than we know ourselves.  Lord, open our eyes to see that your word is “more to be desired…than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and drippings of the honeycomb.”

By Trish Donohue

Happy Tuesday morning ladies!  We’re virtually together here on the blog each week, but how fun to be together in spirit and body this past Saturday morning at the women’s meeting.  We got to spill our coffee on real people instead of just on our keyboards! 

The meeting was great for a variety of reasons: a lobby full of happy conversations and pastry munching, the honoring of two inspirational lives, biblical teaching, and a time of Q and A.  And notably, no sports illustrations!

As a confirmed couch potato, I’m rarely grieving the lack of sports analogies, and yet one came to mind on Saturday: I’ve been on the sidelines a lot, waiting for games to start or just cheering people on.  I’m comfortable there, and yet I’m aware that the action and excitement and victory and progress happen on the field.  How I wish I was gifted to be down there!

Many of us feel like we have been sitting on the bleachers eating our concessions, waiting for the action of women’s ministry to begin.  Once in a while a meeting is planned, and we look forward to the energy and excitement it brings, but there really doesn’t seem to be much action on the field.  What can we do though?  We’re not leading the church or setting the strategy.  We’ll just try to wait patiently.

But on Saturday morning I realized I’m not on the bleachers.  My popcorn got knocked out of my hand and I found that I’m actually, shockingly, down on the field.  The Bible says that women’s ministry is not a spectator sport where we wait for a gifted woman to rise up and lead the charge or a program to be presented.  It’s a lifestyle where we’re all seeking to disciple and encourage and minister to one another.  As we move forward, we look for older women to learn from and younger women to encourage along the way.  The field is alive with action, conversation, service, encouragement, help, and love.

Jared’s message not only got us off the bleachers, but outlined the rules for play.  The “Six Biblical Essentials of a Women's Ministry from Titus 2” are simple, clear, and solidly scriptural:

• Our women's ministry must be rooted in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
• Our women's ministry must be the responsibility of the elders of the church.
• Our women's ministry must mobilize older women to train younger women.
• Our women's ministry must be a lifestyle.
• Our women's ministry must focus on biblical womanhood.
• Our women's ministry must be a part of our plan to advance the gospel.

The practical and simple nature of the “discipleship mandate” that scripture presents ensures that no one is sitting on the sidelines; and if they are, we should pull them down to the field quick—we need them!  Elizabeth Elliot shows us just how practical these opportunities for women’s ministry are:

“It is doubtful that the Apostle Paul had in mind Bible classes or seminars or books when he spoke of teaching younger women.  He meant the simple things, the everyday example, the willingness to take time from one’s own concerns to pray with the anxious mother, to walk with her the way of the cross—with its tremendous demands of patience, selflessness, loving-kindness—and to show her, in the ordinariness of Monday through Saturday, how to keep a quiet heart. 

These lessons will come perhaps most convincingly through rocking a baby, doing some mending, cooking a supper, or cleaning a refrigerator.  Through such an example, one young woman—single or married, Christian or not—may glimpse the mystery of charity and the glory of womanhood.”

Elizabeth chose the example of the anxious mother, but there are countless other discipleship opportunities around us as well.  As we clean someone’s house, care for an elderly aunt, encourage a struggling friend, pray for a community group member, or invite a younger woman over for lunch, we are following God’s direction for us as women, and we can be sure that He will produce lasting fruit as a result.

At the close of some meetings, we are looking down at a list of things we need to do.  At the close of this meeting, we were looking around at a room full of women who’ve already been organizing and participating in some powerful women’s ministry, without even planning it!  It ended up that the message wasn’t a redirection at all, but a cheer from the sidelines encouraging us to keep going with renewed purpose and zeal for the sake of the gospel itself. 

And though we’ll always enjoy meetings, nothing can top the opportunity to play the game everyday!

By Trish Donohue

Do you ever wonder how other Christians embark on their Bible reading each morning?  Do they have special tricks?  Are their Bibles magically highlighting amazing truths which jump off the pages at them?  Do they spring nimbly from their beds in anticipation?  Does soft music begin to play as they crack open the well-worn pages?

Just for the record, I don’t have any tricks.  But I know what John Piper does.  (I recently needed some inspiration for my quiet times and perused his website.)  Every morning before he looks into God’s Word he prays the words of Psalm 119:18 which say, “Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law.”

It’s not a gimmick or a trick; it’s just echoing the psalmist’s inspired prayer and asking for divine help.  And I’ve started to do it myself.

Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law.

Why?  Because like Dr. Piper, I find that my spiritual eyes are shut in the morning.  They don’t see wonderful things in God’s law by themselves.  They see interesting stories or familiar passages or lots of tiny letters that morph into a cloud of sleepiness.  They see a legalistic checkmark on the “quiet time” slot or a grocery list or a catalog of worries that are elbowing their way into my time in the Word.  I need God to miraculously touch me if I’m going to see through my sleepy spiritual eyes.

Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law.

And He does.  It’s really amazing the way God answers our prayers, and ridiculous that we don’t pray more.  In the short time since I’ve begun my quiet times with this prayer, not as a mantra but as a heartfelt request, God has spoken to me clearly through his Word, pretty much every time.

I still don’t spring out of bed, I kind of roll out in a coma-like state.  But heavy eyelids are no match for the power of God, and I reach with faith for that big leather book.  There are words of wonder in there, and God’s going to show them to me!

By Trish Donohue

Last night I walked through the museum and tried to take in the amazing displays of God’s faithfulness throughout our history.  What an incredible job the coordinators did in setting it up!  From all over the room I heard reminiscing about old Christmas plays, T-shirts, invitations, ministries, and many shrieks of horror at what we were wearing in the photos! 

The pictures of the Gauntlett Center showed it like it was—a medium-sized, not-so-clean, not-so-attractive room.  We all know of the legendary roaches and duct tape, and everyone can remember the 120 degree weird-smelling bathrooms.  But someone was commenting about how proud they were of it then, and I felt the same way.  I loved that place, and was delighted to lead family and guests past the dumpsters and into the doors of what I knew was the best place on earth.

So why the rose-colored glasses?  For many of us, this was the first church where we really met with God, where we pursued not just biblical knowledge, but God’s presence as well.  It was new and amazing to us.  We were young, didn’t know what we were doing, and cried out to him in desperation.  We expected him to answer and he did, faithfully and powerfully.  That’s why no petty inconveniences could deter us.

As I enjoyed my moment of nostalgia, I considered our beautiful building, clean bathrooms, roach-free corners, and air-conditioning.  Does God radically meet people who aren’t sweating and are sitting in comfy chairs?  Is he as passionate for his church when they are a little older, a little wiser, a little richer?

I’m so happy that no environment of blessing or challenge will affect God’s outpouring of grace on his church.  I’m so glad that he still waits for the cry of his people and sends his Spirit to encourage and strengthen and guide.  He still wants to meet with us! He still makes his Word come alive to us! He still wants to take our breath away with his glory and holiness and power.  He is still quick to come to our aid when we are desperate for him!

The “radical” experiences we remember in those earlier days weren’t tied to a place, or a time, or a season; they were tied to God, who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  The question is, “Do I still walk into church expecting and yearning to meet with him?”  May it be so for all of us, in ever-increasing measure. 

As the deer pants for streams of water,
       so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
       When can I go and meet with God?    -Ps 42

By Trish Donohue

Well, it’s our day again, ladies, and I hope you’re reading this over a relaxed cup of coffee…but I’m guessing that’s not the case!  This morning, I thought I’d throw a lifeline out to you girls who read this blog occasionally and think, “Who are these people!  Here I am just trying to get the kids off to school and myself to work on time and they’re talking about family nights and modesty and all this biblical femininity stuff.  Where have these women come from?”

Great question.  I’m aware that when you’re new to the church, it’s easy to lump the pastors’ and leaders’ wives into one broad flat category (I know ‘cuz I did it). You can assume these ladies were baking cookies at 6, hoping to find and follow a husband by 17, and certainly only ever experiencing mini-muffin sized temptations.

Actually, I would love for that to be the case, but this sinner has had the overflowing casserole-sized temptations and, instead of quickly embracing God’s amazing design for men and women, I had quite a battle on my hands.

I had invested most of my mental stock into the world’s value system which said that powerful people who other people serve were on top of the ladder, and people who did the serving were on the bottom.  There were a few rungs in between, but I aimed to stay closer to the top than the bottom.  Words like submission and helper were getting dangerously close to the mat on the floor. 

But the intelligent, fun-loving, thoughtful women I met at church immediately began to mess up my nicely organized ladder.  These encouraging wives, loving moms, and selfless single women were really living out what the Bible taught—and were thriving!    I was scornful, curious, and impressed, in that order. 

Through many painful and helpful conversations, hours of study and soul-searching, and still surprising grace, my value ladder flipped.  I saw the wisdom of God in His design for men and women, and came to love it.  I’m not helping, encouraging, and laying my life down like I should, but those words are now beautiful to me.  They reflect Christ Himself, and I long for more of them in my life.     

Maybe, like me, you’ve come in these doors a little suspicious (What is with these women?) but also a little intrigued.  Hang around.  Not because the church is perfect, but because God is, and His plan is a wonderful one. 

By Trish Donohue

 

We were at the shore for our last hurrah of the summer and decided to be adventurous and take a bike ride to the beach.  This may sound rather humdrum for the experienced cyclists among us, but for the Donohue Clan, this was a serious feat.  And if the cameras had been rolling this is what they would have seen.

 

Jim (borrowing a relative’s bike) had a stack of beach chairs bungeed to his handlebars which made him ride like a chimpanzee.  Next came Adam, who was balancing a boogie board twice his size and wobbling down the road taking out pedestrians on both sides while I yelled (in vain) from the back that that they had the right of way.  Asher and Bryn followed, trying to dodge flying shrapnel from the bikes in front while Shannon, our youngest, in her massive butterfly helmet, got stuck at every curb. 

 

Then there was me, who hadn’t been on a bike in an unmentionable number of years.  I initially had the sand shovels in my lovely bike basket, but three seconds into the ride, one fell out and flew between my bike spokes, which would have catapulted me into the air like a sunburned Evel Knieval except for the fact that I was going less than one mile an hour.  But I was jarred, and that qualifies as a serious athletic injury in my book.

 

Our actual ride was a crazy combination of dropping things, falling, walking across streets, talking to drivers who waited for us to walk across streets, screaming, and laughing very hard in a near-death sort of way.  

 

What does that have to do with anything blog-worthy?  Well, first, it’s a good story, and second, it’s a picture of how we moms can feel in our parenting.

 

1. We’re off on a new adventure (a new challenge, a new season of parenting, a new school year.)
2. We realize as we’re planning that our children are at so many different levels and have so many different needs.  Some are ahead and almost out of sight, some are falling behind, and none of them seem to hear the advice we’re calling to them.
3. We’re ill-equipped.  We’re supposed to be helping lead this troop, and we’re just learning ourselves!  We’re wobbling around in the back while they’re whizzing on ahead.  How do we catch up?
4. We’ve got baggage.  There are so many things and events to juggle and carry that we’re afraid we’ll get off course, or wreck, maybe even taking someone else out while we’re at it.
5. We’re temped to think, ‘maybe we should bag this’.  We thought the Lord had called us to it, but maybe there’s an easy way out, preferably without the risks. 

 

Here’s the truth:  God knows our limitations, and knows the job He’s called us to.  He knows each one of our children and the speed that they ride.  He knows their desires, their abilities, and their downfalls.  And He’s picked us, in our wobbly weakness, to guide them through the traffic of life.  But God is the one who keeps them.  And we can launch into God’s will for us in full assurance that He will get us where we need to go, safely, and in his time.

 

We almost took the van.  Nobody really wanted to, and we knew we’d sacrifice a memory, but we almost wimped out.  I’m so glad we didn’t.

By Trish Donohue

On our most recent date night, Jim and I found ourselves in the middle of a great conversation in the Acme parking lot of all places. It was raining and the drops on the windshield were reflecting and shimmering on everything in the car including us; it was a perfect movie scene, although instead of a tearful break-up or a spontaneous declaration of love, we were talking about gratitude—very un-Hollywood.

Jim was showing me how I can often enter situations looking at what needs to change instead of first seeing God’s grace and thanking Him for it. His observations were welcome ones since this is an area I want to grow in, and I have benefitted immeasurably from his help.

In my puny attempts to change, I’m happy to inform all you fellow ingrates that God has been extremely patient and hasn’t given up on me. There’s hope for us! As wives and moms, our countless menial tasks provide us countless opportunities to glorify God through gratitude. Here’s one thing I’ve been realizing as I’ve pondered the practical implications of gratitude.

We women often complain about situations that we actually love.

Sounds illogical, I know, but let me give you some examples from my own life:

• My daughter happened to get very sick the one night that Jim was away recently. I was up with her all night—I think I might have gone to sleep at 5:30 a.m. 

The temptation in that moment is self-pity, and yet the truth is that I love being a mom. I love my daughter and that I am the one who can comfort her. I love that Jim enjoys his job and gets to travel and that I can support him in that. If someone would offer to take this responsibility away from me, and thus the long night, I’d refuse in a second. The truth is that I’m tempted to complain about the situation…even though I love it.

• I’m walking past my sons’ room and the floor is once again littered with stuff. Didn’t I ask them to at least keep the floor picked up?

The truth in this situation is that I love having boys. They are a gift—a messy, dirty one sometimes, but a gift. These bug collections and dirty camo shorts and Lego guys represent the joys of their lives. Would I get rid of this "problem" if I could? Would I exchange them for a quieter, messless variety? Never.

So many of the minor irritations in our lives fall into this category—part and parcel of a job we wouldn’t trade for the world. Today as we feel our "last nerve" begin to tingle, let’s see if we can look past it to the broader gift of God, and praise Him for it…in gratitude.

By Trish Donohue

Can you imagine being a vacation? Not going on one, but being one? A vacation’s job description is enormous and it all has to be accomplished in seven days, without fail. Here is what I usually want my vacation to do for me.

• Make me happier than I’ve been all year.
• Provide a round-the-clock atmosphere of relaxation even with a bunch of kids all living out of messy suitcases and ingesting vast amounts of sugar.
• Refresh my heart, soul, mind, and body so that when I come back home I will face my normal life with the music of a waterfall playing in my brain.
• Create family memories full of laughter and hugs and Kodak moments, ensuring that I look fabulous on all the pictures.
• Provide a tan with no sunburn, a feast with no weight gain, and self-indulgence with no sin.

Although I adore vacations and have files of precious memories from them, I’ve taken enough of them to recognize they can’t possibly live up to the tasks I’ve given them to accomplish. I’ve selfishly struggled that, while in utopia, I still have to do many of the jobs I do at home—feeding the hungry tribe, laundering the sandy clothes, and guiding the tempted hearts, beginning with my own. I’ve fought with the ever shrinking time left before returning home to the full inbox and empty refrigerator. I’ve grappled with a vacation’s sheer inability to produce the lasting tranquility I’m looking for.

Have you been there?

Here’s my conclusion. (You may have figured this out by now, but bear with me, I’m slower.) There are two ways to take a vacation. The first, my default, is to load it up with all the expectations I listed above, which should allow me to do the only thing left – relax. My job is to relax – not think about what God wants to do with my time, or the needs of others, or disciplines of any kind. This self-centered approach will pretty much 100% of the time dump me back into my regular life feeling deflated and worldly. And I blame my vacation for not doing its job.

The second is to enjoy a vacation as a gift from God, seeing his hand in all the beauties and blessings, and the opportunities to serve as well. In this situation, I’m not trying to escape from life, but to invest in the life and family God has given me. It’s not all about my own immediate pleasure, but the pleasure of living in God’s will. Instead of seeking the elusive cloud of “relaxation” (bring me a magazine quick!) I can rest in the goodness and sovereignty of God and enjoy what He’s provided without trying to make it something it can never be.

Can you guess which one brings more joy in the end?

Our vacations can do a lot for us. What can we do for them?

By Trish Donohue

At the beach recently, some girlfriends and I were meandering among the shops.  In one particular shop, a friend was trying on some beachy tops and a couple sundresses.  They were stylish and fun, but I knew they were a bit too revealing for me to try.  Yet, a quick thought of resentment rushed to my mind, “I could pull that off and look good but of course I can’t.”  There it was, an ugly mix of my own selfishness, vanity, and worldliness in one quick moment. Teenage girls aren’t the only ones in the battle…moms with minivans fight, too.

God helped me remember the rightness and wisdom of his decrees about modesty…and gratitude for his plan followed.  But even as I write the word, modesty, I’m aware that I’d prefer a different word.  It’s a bit musty, after all—a bit prudish, outdated, even embarrassing.  I want to declare, I am relevant!  I’m not an old stodgy church lady in a housedress!  The only little problem is, modesty is God’s word. (1 Timothy 2:9) It’s God-breathed, from the lips of the divine Creator and Wardrobe Director. Oops.

So what will prevail: fear of man or fear of God?  Will I let the culture tell me to scoff at God’s perfect truth?  Or will I see modesty for the beautiful, wise plan God says it is?

On Sunday, July 19th, Jim had the opportunity to address the men after Jared’s excellent message. That’s when we were ushered into the very chatty lobby and during light conversation, glimpsed the mass of sober male faces through the auditorium’s glass doors.  What were they talking about in there? 

The topic was sexual purity, or lack thereof.  The percentage of Christian men who seriously struggle with impurity is staggering.  During that short time, many of our brothers were on their knees, crying out for power to change and for help in grave temptation.

Can we change the Vanity Fair that surrounds them?  Can we reform TV, movies, ads, newspapers, billboards, workplaces, even cereal boxes that present challenges?  Probably not.  But can we add our voice of support by obeying God and dressing in a way that prevents further temptation?  Yes.  Even if it means passing up an opportunity to impress someone?  By God’s grace, yes.

Listen girls, it’s easy to downplay our role in this important battle. However, greater effort and attention from all of us in this area will not only honor God, but may bring a respite to some of the weary saints. 

So goodbye breezy sundress.  I’ll find you in a better style.  And hopefully a better sale.   

By Trish Donohue

“Warm, yummy, potato chips right off the conveyor belt, we’re coming!” we cried as we jumped into the van on a recent rainy Monday.  We were headed to the Herr’s Snack Factory tour (free and fat-filled—what could be better?)  We took the tour, clogged up our arteries with the free samples, and were dumped out into the gift shop where my generous husband told the kids to pick out something small.

The girls were gaga over the 25 cent plastic rings and a coloring book, one of my sons picked a plastic popcorn ball probably to aim at his brother’s noggin, and my other son got caught in the tractor beam of a stress potato.  He was enamored, charmed, captivated by it.  For the stress-free among us, an explanation may be in order.  A stress potato is a soft, but not too soft, rubbery potato that you can squeeze the daylights out of, presumably to alleviate stress.  I’m not sure who concocted the idea that you could channel stress into another object by squeezing it, but apparently it sells.  Anyway, my son was all giggles. 

I figured it was a worthy investment.  It could be by the piano for one boy during lessons, or on the other boy’s math book.  Jim could squeeze it while doing the budget and I could have it while rushing out the door and realizing that someone’s flip-flop had vanished again!  (The girls don’t have any stress, they only provide it, so they don’t get a turn.)    

The funny thing is that we all have our stress potatoes, whether it’s a bag of chips, the TV, sleep or shopping.  “This is just what I need,” we tell ourselves again, even though experience has taught us that these things don’t really relieve us, they just temporarily distract. 

Although the “Stress Spud” as we affectionately call it, still resides in our home, I’m so glad that there is real relief for stress, or more accurately, the sin of anxiety. 

“Do not be anxious about anything,” the Bible urges us, “but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Aaaah.  God’s truth and grace for anxious sinners.  No gimmicks, Herr’s logo, or carpal tunnel syndrome involved.  Just help from Almighty God and a promised peace.  Thank you, Lord, for providing real help in time of need.

But now what do I do with the stress potato?  Stress potato salad

By Trish Donohue

 

Wow!  What a great title!  I have you all hooked, I know it.  You’re envisioning the long sought fountain of youth bubbling up and covering all those fine wrinkles and graying hairs.  I’m sure Clinique offers something like this for approximately $350, but physical youth is actually not today’s topic.  It’s how to be the younger woman described in the well-known Titus passage: Older women…are to so train the younger women…”

 

Okay, it’s true that these verses are directed toward the older woman; the one we are all hoping will arrive in our moment of need, shower us with life-changing wisdom, and clean our kitchen while she’s at it.  But here’s the deal—most  women who would be a benefit to us aren’t prophetic enough to discern the moment we need them, confident enough to assume we want to hear from them, or available enough to be waiting outside our door for the cry of despair.  SO!  Take out your note-pads ye seekers of wisdom.  Here are some tips on how to be a younger woman.

 

1.  Look around.  Sometimes we get “fridge disease.”  You know, you’re looking for the salsa in the fridge and its right in front of you.  These elusive older women are sometimes right in front of us in the lobby at church, sitting beside us in community group, or right behind us in worship.  Who has God placed in our lives that is a little further along?  Whose children are a few years older than ours?  Who excels in an area where we are weak?  Look around and pick out a woman you could learn from.

 

2.   Jot down some specific questions for her.  How does she maintain such purposefulness in her singleness?  How does she do meal planning for her family?  What is her daily schedule?  What do her quiet times look like?  It’s helpful to have some questions ready so you can drop into a conversation quickly.

 

3.  Initiate.  Invite her to lunch after church or to grab some coffee between services, or draw her out after community group.  These conversations don’t have to be formal; in fact, it’s sometimes better when they’re not!  God promises to give grace to the humble, and He will bless our efforts to learn from the women He’s given us.

 

How do I know this?  Because I need a lot of help, and a lot of wisdom!  I recently chatted with a woman whose children are a few years ahead of mine and her counsel was so helpful.  A few weeks later, I grabbed a couple of moms at a meeting and asked them if they had ever struggled with a particular sin I was seeing in my life.  Help is often a conversation away!  And because we’re all called to be “older women” as well as “younger women,” let’s drink in as much wisdom as we can so that we have something to pour out when a younger woman reads this blog and walks over to us!    

 

 

By Trish Donohue

I’m enjoying my weekly oasis of think time at Starbucks, thanks to my husband who lovingly kicks me out the door for an hour most Sundays for a little perspective gathering. After trying to order a drink with eight names that my friend Jill always gets, and mixing up breve’ and latte’, I sat down and set up shop: expensive coffee-concoction, Jim’s laptop which I steal for these occasions, my Bible, a book, and a pen. A little table of happiness.

 

The fatherhood of God, which we have been learning about on Sunday mornings, was one of the first topics to come to mind. We have been hearing some astounding things about our adoption in Christ! I just reread some of the Ephesians passages that tell me things I can hardly believe, but delight to try—things like God sending the Spirit of his Son into my heart, crying “Abba! Father!” Amazing. Truly amazing.

 

To my left is a group of women in their fifties who are sipping their eight-named drinks, and talking for the past half hour. I’m not trying to eavesdrop, but it’s impossible. They started with a passionate discussion about highlighting experiences they’ve had at a local salon. One got too dark a color (grave concern all around.) The next few topics that floated my way centered on ‘Coach’ products (the Coach boots seemed to be a satisfactory purchase— they weren’t so sure about the bags.) We then proceeded to high heels and the balance between comfort and style. Discussion ended with laments over the pressure to compete with younger people in the business world.

 

They seemed like a nice group of ladies, and I’ve talked about some of those topics myself. But I can’t help thinking about the inexplicable grace that has come my way, enabling my mind to be filled at this moment with priceless pearls from the truth of God’s word. I’ve found a treasure that buries a Coach bag—even boots! Transformation that makes my worst highlighting experience an extremely “light and momentary trouble.” My adoption into the eternal, glorious family of God took no skill or requirement from me, and there was no competition from younger, better-qualified applicants.

 

I sit here in this sweatshirt and ponytail, the richest, most extravagantly treated woman in the world. I am a child, even an heir of God Most High. I have the love of a perfect Father, the full rights of sonship, free and unlimited access to his throne, and a future of undeserved blessing and bliss in his presence.

 

Lord, may this “soaking” be more than skin-deep. May the priceless story of our adoption flood our hearts, bringing waves of joy and a new and star-struck view of our true Treasure.