MY BLOG POSTS

For the last couple hours, my husband and son have been watching survival shows. The people on these shows are crazy. I can’t believe what they’re eating, where they’re sleeping, how close to death they are coming.

I do not enjoy roughing it. I enjoy nature, don’t get me wrong. I grew up doing lots of outdoor things: hiking in the mountains, skiing in lakes, swimming in the ocean, walking up steps to roller coasters.  But once I am done with that stuff, I am done. I want to sleep in a  real bed. With sheets that smell spring fresh. I want to eat food that looks like food. Not like pets. Or pests.

If I had to be on a survival show, I’d like to be stuck in a huge mall overnight.

I could find my way through the Fall Preview section, dodging the overpriced shoes and looking for the elusive 75% off silk shirt. I’d sip some Starbucks’ brew to help me stay alert so I could peruse the jewelry store – finding just the right necklace and earrings to go with my new shirt. Then I’d hit the furniture section of the department store, using my keen senses to uncover just the right comfy chair to read a book I picked up from one of the most endangered species around – an actual bookstore.

Oh, yes. That would be fun. If some network decides to produce Survivor – Mall Edition, let me know! I think I’d better start training now, so I’m ready…:)

I know Forest Gump would disagree. And I am certainly not going to argue with the box of chocolates metaphor! But let me add another. Last weekend, I was waiting in line to ride “Dr. Doom’s Fearfall” at Islands of Adventure in Orlando. I was chaperoning some middle school girls on a choir trip. A few of them were a little scared. I can’t imagine why. All you do is drop 150 feet in about 5 seconds. No biggie.

Watching them quake in fear reminded me of another wait in another line for another roller coaster. That time, I was with my daughter, Emma. Emma is now 13 and she LOVES roller coasters. She was not one of the ones quaking on fear for Dr. Doom. But she understood the feeling. She felt like that the first time she waited in line to ride SheiKra at Busch Gardens. That ride has a 200 foot, 90 degree drop plus several loops. And it is FAST.  Emma was 10 and she was scared. Really scared. Like crying all the way up, begging for me to take her out of line and forget this crazy idea scared. But I know Emma. And I knew she would love this coaster. She just needed to try it. So I told her we were doing it. And if, after we were done, she still hated it, I would never make her ride it again. But, of course, I was right, and she loved it. I know my daughter. And she trusted me. The result was a whole lot of fun!

Life is sometimes like that. Sometimes, God may ask us to do something that seems absolutely crazy. Insane. Something that makes our knees wobble and our throats close. Something that makes us look at him and say, “You have GOT to be kidding! There is no way I am doing that.”

But he knows us. He loves us. And we can trust him. Even when we’re waiting, terrified, crying on his sleeve. We can trust him. And we can know that, in the end, it’ll all work out for our good. Now this is a metaphor, so please don’t hear me say God wants you to ride a roller coaster 🙂 But he may be asking you to do something for him that is just as scary as that coaster was for Emma. Can you think of what that may be? What is God asking you to do right now? Is it scary? Are you standing outside the “line” watching everybody else go, but too scared to jump in yourself? Trust him. Cling to him. And hold on tight. The ride, I promise, is going to be amazing!

One of my former students is attending a Christian college. I asked if her school had a dress code. She said yes. I was waiting to hear a long list of what could and could not be worn on campus. Instead, she told me their policy was just seven words:

“No crack in front or in back”

I laughed. Because the images that popped into my head were pretty funny.

But, seriously,  does it matter what you wear? Do Christians really need to dress differently? Or is that just for those strict ultra-conservative folks who want to suck all the fun out of life whenever they can?

Here’s what I think: how we dress is important. It reflects who we are, how we think of ourselves. If you look at my daughters, you’ll get a glimpse of their personalities right away, just by what they wear. Emma, 13, loves fashion. She shops for hours to find just the right outfit, wanting every part of it to go together. If the super-cute shoes she bought are a little uncomfortable…oh, well. Ellie, 11, is much more of a free spirit. She wears what’s comfortable. And when she finds something she really likes – like her knit cap or her fuzzy moccasins – she wears them every day. Does she care if they don’t exactly go with her outfit? Nope. She likes them. That’s all that matters. They are different people and their styles reflect that. I love that! I wouldn’t want cookie cutter kids.

But here’s another thing: how we dress doesn’t just affect us. Other people have to see  us. And, girls, guys are looking at what you wear. And what you don’t wear. Guys are WAY more visual than we are. When we see a guy in short shorts, our first instinct is to gag (really — what are they thinking??). But when guys see girls in short shorts, their brain starts going places we, as sisters in Christ, don’t want it to go.

God made us beautiful, girls. But there are certain parts of our anatomy that need to stay covered. We don’t want to advertise what is not for sale. Yes, I know – it’s hard to find clothes that cover “the cracks in front and back.” But those clothes are out there, I promise.

So, yes, this is a “mom” post. But we moms aren’t out to get you or make your life miserable or keep you hopelessly out of style. We love you and want the very best for you. We want people to see you, not just for who you are, but for whose you are — a treasured daughter of the King.

So, please, just say no to cracks.

I was listening to Casting Crowns’ song, “Jesus, Friend of Sinners,” in the car and was struck by this line:

“Jesus, friend of sinners/ the truth’s become so hard to see/ The world is on their way to You/ but they’re tripping over me.”

It’s easy to think of other people who are guilty of this: people who are hateful “in Jesus’ name” or who gossip but call it “sharing,” who criticize and say they’re “just being honest.” People who make Christians look so bad we understand why so many unbelievers don’t want anything to do with our Savior.

But then I thought about myself. Am I ever guilty of tripping people who might be on their way to Jesus? The word Christian means “little Christ.” Am I living the life Jesus modeled? Or am I behaving more like the pharisees – the hypocritical religious leaders that Jesus himself condemned?

If I am being perfectly honest, I have to admit that I struggle with pharisee-like thoughts and actions sometimes. It is easy to look at others and think of ways that I am “better” than them. But those thoughts are awful, destructive, and sinful. Those thoughts break God’s heart and prevent me from being able to serve others the way He has commanded me to serve. Because those thoughts come out through my words and actions, “tripping” others who may be on their way to Jesus.

So rather than tripping people along the way to Him, I want to come alongside them, help them, pick them up when they fall, dust them off, hug them when they’re hurting and cheer them when they are victorious. I want people to look at me, to be around me, to know me and be encouraged. I want to be like Jesus – a friend of sinners, of whom I am one, saved by His grace.