These Four Walls

It's a fitting end to our homeschool year. I just got off the phone with the mom of one of Stella's unsaved friends from soccer. She invited us over for a playdate. That phone call was fruit of our feeble attempts to reach out. Well, actually more like Stella's efforts reaching out. She would lie awake at night last fall burdened for her friend on her soccer team who didn't know Jesus. She'd pray for her. And at the end of the season she wanted to invite her to church. So I helped her write out our church information on a slip of paper so she could give it to her. Then this spring soccer season, Matt and I followed Stella's lead and tried to get to know her mom and dad better.

It's funny because this whole homeschool thing from our perspective has never been so much about being within these four walls of our home. I know I can wrongly think these four walls are a fortress of protection against the world and if I can just inculcate our kids enough and micromanage their influences they will be safe from worldliness. But with one angry word and selfish action I see their hearts and remember that the world is in there, not out there. And there's no wall big enough to save them from themselves. There's no mom wise enough and no dad strong enough to dominate their rebel hearts into submission. But "if they are among those whom God has chosen for eternal life, Jesus will have them as His subjects." (Starr Meade) So it's not about my kingdom on Keppen. It's about King Jesus' kingdom and how we fit into His reign.

And I'm preaching this to myself over and over and over. Because how can I hold these dear ones loosely when all I want to do is hold them closely? How can I convince myself they've never really been mine, but His to steward, when with each step they take away from me I have to restrain myself from chasing them down and bringing them back near? How can I give them life and then gladly lay down my life for them? This task of mothering is for women of steel and I'm just weak and vulnerable.

When I'm about to be overcome with grief and give way to the crisis of my identity, I remember a Father who saw His Son walk away from Him for the promise of something better. The covenant conversation from Isaiah 53 between God the Father and God the Son comforts me. "If you give your soul as an offering for sin, I will give you a people." So it pleased the Father to let Him go. It satisfied Him to see His Son suffer among the transgressors because of what it was accomplishing - bringing many more sons and daughters to glory.

I'm reminded God doesn't ask anything of me He hasn't already done for me. Perfect obedience positionally and grace to obey practically are mine. So I can let them grow and go because He's in control of them, working His own good purposes to expand His kingdom. And ultimately, I really do want them to follow Him, not me. I want them to hear His voice, and for it to be more familiar and precious than mine. I want them to come to know His gentle arms when they need comforted and trust His strong hand when they're used to reaching up for mine.

A wise woman builds her house. But she's wiser still if she remembers the four walls of it are but a small part of the much bigger kingdom He is building.

 

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Living in Community

Means crumbs in your couch and satisfied souls! For the record, the latter is definitely worth the clean up of the former. Now just remind me of that during the five o'clock mad dash as we get ready for groups! :)

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New Friday Night Tradition...

Camping out in Schaeffer's room!

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I Thought I Was Safe

Last week I enjoyed laughing at the comical ways Stella's peers described their moms and thought since I'm the teacher I was safe from those embarrassing exposures. Then Sunday came. Stella's Sunday school teacher had her class fill out one of those handy dandy questionnaires about their moms.

Apparently my favorite thing to wear is the same clothes for two days. I guess even MORE laundry is in my future now!

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The Day After

So what happens the day after Mother's Day when another hurdle has been jumped but your brave heart has melted and the hurt is still there and your arms are still empty? And not only are your arms empty but maybe that finger on your left hand is too. And it has been for too long. And you can't get away from mothers and fathers and doctors killing babies when you just want yours. And husbands and wives fighting and belittling and divorcing when you just want someone to love you and love back.

Cry. Yes, go ahead and keep crying. Let the tears roll into His sovereign bottle. And as you cry, remember Jesus cried too. Stella asked me why Jesus wept at Lazarus' tomb when He knew He was going to raise him back to life. And with a quivering heart I told her that tears streamed down Jesus' face because He saw the effects of sin and the misery of the world He had created to be happy and holy. He saw the sorrow and loneliness of His infinitely loved friends burdened with the knowledge of good and evil when all He wanted them to know was good. And with the authority of God Himself who knew what it had been, and with the experience of humanity who saw what it is, every wet salty drop down His face was screaming, "This isn't the way it's supposed to be!"

Now let His tear-filled eyes meet yours. Now hear His life tell you it won't always be this way because He died to make it better. And let Him wipe away your tears with promises of a world to come where all you'll know is good again. None of this evil, hurt, and injustice. Then pack up those promises and load your arms and fingers full of hope. And carry those mercies around with you in this miserable world. And hold them close. And never forget them. Let His love surround you - underneath you, all around you. He loves you back because He loved you first. And most. And enough.

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Stirring Soup in the Spotlight

It has been said that being a mom is a thankless job. Days are spent doing things no one notices. The paparazzi's not hiding in our bushes to snap pictures of us unloading our screaming kids from the van. No one is dying to interview us on our latest bedtime routine, hoping this one will keep them in bed at night. There are no Yahoo! headlines spotlighting a mom who picks up the same toys 20 times a day only to have them thrown all over the house another 20 times that same day. Nor is there a newspaper spread featuring a mother elated over the rare pleasure of finding all the matching socks as she folds her laundry.

Our hearts crave the spotlight and the feeling that we're doing something significant, something that really matters. When these desires aren't met, we are tempted to grow embittered about or weary of our tasks, doing them half-heartedly or not at all. Our focus wanders from what we should be doing to what we think is worthwhile and will satisfy our desires for joy.

Maybe you're a nurse and the weariness of ungrateful and sometimes belligerent patients wears you down to the point that you wonder if the money is even worth it. Maybe you are a teacher and are tired of disrespectful students and blame-shifting parents who take the fun out of a job you used to enjoy. The particulars might be different, but regardless of our set of duties, our struggles are the same.

One morning as we were working through a catechism focusing on Jesus' humiliation and exaltation, I asked the girls to name some ways Jesus showed humility during His time on earth. Ruby responded, "When He fed people." It took a minute for me to grasp the profundity of her response. She got it absolutely right! I never thought of His providing meals for people as an act of humble service. He had heavenly priorities and although He needed to eat too, He could have seen their request for food as an inconvenience to the more important things He was trying to accomplish. But He didn't. He used this basic necessity to serve them and teach them.

I chuckled to myself as this image popped into my head:

I have felt like this on many occasions, especially when I'm engrossed in a project or task and know the clock is marching on toward that hour when all chaos will break loose if I don't have food ready for the savages formerly known as my children. So, I begrudgingly pull myself away from what I really want to be doing to do what they need me do.

But since Ruby made that convicting comment, I have found new significance in doing the many mundane tasks required of me. Not because the tasks in and of themselves have gotten more joyful, but because I have been more aware of Jesus' service for us.

He ministered in relative obscurity for thirty years. When few were looking or aware, He was accomplishing things of eternal significance - like securing our salvation! He was busy fulfilling all righteousness for those He came to save. So much for judging the significance of my work by what is noticed or unnoticed. There is One who is always watching and His audience is the one that matters most.

And then with the inauguration of His public ministry, when more people were aware of this Jesus of Nazareth, we still find Him meeting people's most basic needs - like eating, walking, drinking, and seeing. He even took time to invite the little ones near. I have often been challenged by the King of Heaven's kindess to the children! He didn't see them as interrupting His more majestic plans. They were His plan then just like they are His plan for me now. So I have taken time to kiss that 15th skinned knee of the day and look into those tear-filled eyes to let them know I care (and to tell them to shake it off, if need be!). Because if He had time, I certainly have time.

And those patient deeds of love and service weren't merely decorative details to the story of redemption. They were a significant part of His accomplishing all He came to do. As John states, referring to the many acts of Jesus recounted in his gospel, "[T]hese are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name." (John 20:31)

As we follow Jesus' footsteps, we too learn to embrace the reality that the path is before the crown. But the fact that a reward is coming helps us serve like it helped Him endure. So for the joy set before us, let's stir that soup on the stove, sweep up those multiplying crumbs, wash and fold (and even put away!) those mounds of laundry. The reward for our humble labors will not be lost! Even all those bottles and sippy cups we fill and refill for our kids as service to Him will be rewarded! (Matthew 10:42)

Our selfless obedience shines light on God's great character, in a similar way Jesus' did. So like Him, we can use our humble stage to spotlight the One who deserves all glory and honor and power and blessing for ever and ever! Meanwhile, an amazing thing is sure to happen. As He receives the glory, we will find satisfaction in performing even the most menial task. It's the way He made us. Living for His glory really does result in our greatest joy!

Jesus did not come to be served, but to serve and give His life a ransom for many. (Matthew 20:28) And who am I to think this servant is greater than her Master? (John 13:16)

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1-2-3...

BEAST MODE!

Ruby getting some pre-game soccer coaching from her Dad

 

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Unremarkably Remarkable

Photo Credit: Zachery David Photography

We knew what we'd name you long before we saw you. Your name waited for you. But on that rainy December day leaving our ultrasound appointment, we pulled it out of our hearts and said it right to yours.

Joel Schaeffer Owen.

Every time I see it, I am reminded that we indeed gave you a good name. Not good, as in tasteful (although we think it's that too), but good as in respectable.

"A good name is more desirable than great riches." (Proverbs 22:1)

It's packed with three-generations of pastoral punch, the legacy of a Christian theologian and philosopher who convinced your Dad God is There and He is Not Silent, and the testimony of one of the most remarkable men we've called Pastor.

On your first birthday I reminded you of true greatness - being last and least like Jesus - evidenced in a story about Francis Schaeffer. On your third birthday, I want to tell you of a man who hasn't written any books or started any international ministries, but who has humbly served God in the same local church for nearly twenty-five years.

In 1988, Joel and Nancy, along with their energetic Matthew Joel and pig-tailed Jennifer Elizabeth, moved to the little town of Cambridge, Ohio. Joel had completed his Master of Divinity degree some years earlier and was serving as an elder at Mt. Calvary Baptist Church, ministering to souls for free, and painting walls during the day to pay the bills. They heard of a small, struggling congregation in Southeastern Ohio. After visiting and interviewing, Joel took the offer of Pastor at Cambridge Bible Church, not even knowing what salary the church would be able to pay him. You see, Schaeffer, he had a message to share that meant more than money. He had a God to follow he knew would meet his needs. That God had encouraged him, in a similar way He encouraged a lowly shepherd, but soon to be king, named David. “I took you from the pasture and from following the flock to be ruler over my people Israel.” (2 Samuel 7:8) Joel took comfort in that verse because he saw God could take anyone – even an unremarkable shepherd – and use that person for His remarkable purposes. So Joel humbly reminded himself that all God would ask, He would provide.

It's no surprise, then, when the need arose to supplement his pastoral salary, Joel didn’t think he was too important to go out and get a job to support his family. When his son, Matt, was older, he had the privilege of working with him for several summers. Matt says he learned more about his dad and from his dad during those days spent working with him, than he learned in all their other time together. He learned that his dad was who he said he was. He learned a work ethic that didn't stop until lunch - even when others were taking breaks. Joel had a good testimony on the job and showed Matt how to live a life worthy of the gospel even when doing seemingly insignificant things like shoveling gravel.

The desire to humbly serve is what led Joel to persevere, even during circumstances like coming to church on a couple of occasions and absolutely no one else showing up. Whether pastoring a congregation of 10 or 90, Joel prepared his sermons the same way. He never prepared less or eased up because he thought it might not matter as much. At least outwardly, he never expressed frustration or voiced discontentment, and as a result, he did not lead his family into bitterness toward the ministry. In fact, just the opposite happened. Joel and Nancy instilled in Jenny and Matt a love for Christ and a love for the ministry. Joel evidenced that he was truly serving the Lord because he didn't get hung up on whether he was happy with the results or not. He knew he was not ultimately serving results or the satisfaction of feeling effective; he was serving Him.

Humble service was what lead Joel and Nancy to show mercy to the homeless drifters who would find the church listing in the yellow pages (actually their home phone number) and call asking for help. From putting gas in tanks, to giving rides to the bus station, to putting people up in a motel, to making meals or buying groceries, they helped people and expected nothing in return. Sometimes, the giving hurt. Like the time Joel helped a young family get back on their feet and get a job. He even went so far as to loan them money only to have them skip out of town a couple of months later without ever paying him back.

 

The desire to humbly serve the church is what still leads Joel to spend his evenings, Saturdays, and Sundays studying for the three to four messages he has delivered each week for over two decades. He doesn't have a hobby. Serving the flock of Cambridge Bible Church is his life.

So, Son, learn from this humble man, Joel, the same man you love to call Gampy, something Pastor Ken often says to us, "Faithfulness is success." Don't be drawn away by sights that dazzle, crowds that might applaud, your name in lights, or on the cover of a book. The gospel ministry, whether vocationally or not, requires your putting your hand to the plow and not looking back. It involves your setting your face like flint and not looking to the right nor to the left. Because the gospel is a treasure, entrusted to fragile and common flesh and blood, so that unremarkable Joel, and you, his unremarkable namesake, might show that the remarkable power of faithful and humble service is from God.

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Much of the biographical information shared in this post is reworked from a speech Matt gave at his mom and dad's "20th Anniversary of Ministry" in 2008. But we're not the only ones who think this way about Dad. Read more here.

 

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Even Schaeffer Knows...

Not all jelly beans are created equal!

 

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