A Boy and a Map: Praying for the World

By on February 27, 2012 in a mother's heart, Adoption, From Failure to Grace, growing godly men, Life Lessons, Missions, Prayer, reflection, Uncategorized

It started simple enough, really. A friend mentioned that her three-year-old learned the states by playing a game at mealtimes using a placemat with a map on it. Not to be outdone, I tossed a placemat in my cart the next time I was at Walmart, because I just knew that my kid could do it, too. I admit, it was pure “Momma Pride” that motivated me to toss that placemat in my cart that day, but this story is just another example of God making something beautiful of my mess.

We began to play a game placing raisins on states where grandparents lived and slowly worked our way out. My son was hooked. He loved learning where people lived. Pretty soon he was pointing to states and asking, “What’s this one called, Mommy?” My pride continued to swell. We went on this way for quite some time. Naming a state, placing a raisin, repeating a name, eating the raisin.

It wasn’t until I got a phone call one day that made me want to break the cycle and pray for the person in the purple state in the West that things changed. Hands held in a circle and heads bowed over our plates, we changed the map game that day. And the next. And the day after that. Pretty soon, we were choosing a state to cover with prayer instead of a raisin.

vintage globe

photo credit: sillyeaglebooks

We traded in our USA map for the globe: Ethiopia where we’re adopting from, Mercy House in Kenya, Dominican Republic where our Compassion sponsor child lives. We did our best to give our son something specific to pray for in each country. When my husband finished reading Radical by David Platt, he signed up for the daily prayer email from Operation World. These emails gave our family a method to picking a country to cover in prayer, much better than the spin-the-globe-and-point method we had been using.

Fast forward a year, and we’re still praying through the Nations. At times, it’s tricky to explain the situations in different countries to our son,  since he is just a few months shy of five, but the compassion for others growing in my son is worth it. He knows what it is like to be sick, so he prays for the sick. He has a sibling that is currently an orphan, so he prays for the children waiting for families. He enjoys church, so he prays for those who have to worship in secret. It’s pretty simple if you ask me.

I don’t know what God has planned for my little prayer warrior, but I know this–God took something I did that was all about me and changed it into something good for others. He molded my mess into a daily family prayer time and a heart for prayer. If He can do that out of my mess, I wonder what He can make out of our family prayer time in the heart of my son, or even the World?

Psalm 2:8–Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, and the ends of the earth your possession.

Would you like to join us in praying for the Nations?

So tell me, who will you pray for today?

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I’ve forgotten my babies.

By on December 13, 2011 in a mother's heart, connection with boys, Gentle Parenting, Life Lessons, reflection

{We invite you to grab a FREE PDF download of our newest eBook, Hope for the Weary Mom. To get your copy, subscribe to the MOB Society by email, look for a verification email in your inbox, and click the link to your download at the end.}

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I have a really bad memory. Just ask my husband. Or, I don’t know, maybe it’s perfectly average. I mean, most people don’t remember every moment of their lives, right? Every joke, every cool breeze, every good book.

 

I forget these kind of things almost instantaneously.

 

And normally it doesn’t bother me that much. But once in awhile, I’ll be going through old pictures, and I’ll find a picture of my seven-year-old as a one-year-old – and I find myself thinking, “I don’t remember this child”. I remember this picture, I might remember this day, but I don’t remember this child.

 

 

Everyone tells you to treasure the time with your children because it’s over in a heartbeat.

 

 

I’ve not been treasuring. I’ve not been intentionally treasuring this era of my life. I’ve been tired, and unfocused, and selfish, and just waiting for freaking little person bedtime so I could watch Friends, or something equally dumb.

 

 

And now I realize that I’ve lost them. I’ve lost my babies, they’re gone. My youngest is three.

 

 

Once when I was about eight years old my family moved to Florida for just one year. One day, when it was raining, my step-dad and I stood in the mouth of our open garage. And he told me to remember that moment. To concentrate on the water rushing down the paved hill of our street; the way it sounded, the way it smelled, the way it looked.

 

And I did. To this day I can transport myself pack to those minutes of my life and appreciate them.

 

What I’ve realized as life has gone on is that we have to be intentional to remember the good in our life. The hurt, and the pain, and the unfortunate seers itself onto our hearts and into our minds almost against our will. We can be weighed down with these unwanted memories for a lifetime. But the good? We forget it so quickly.

 

So I’m determined to remember my babies. The smiles, and the jokes, and the round cheeks, and the lisps, and the laughs that far outweigh the poop and the tears and the gray hairs. Because I’m a little bit terrified of forgetting them. And waking up sometime very soon to an empty house, with my cup overflowing with regrets.

 

Let’s burn today into our memories. Because really, y’all – it won’t last forever.

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The winners of the Hope for the Weary Mom giveawaysfrom the MOB Society are:

Hope Bag from Dayspring – Suzy

Hope piece from Red Letter Art – Laura

David Nevue CD – Mom of Four

Ladies: Please check your email and get back to us ASAP! Congratulations!

 

 

 

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Empty

By on November 5, 2011 in a mother's heart, reflection, Uncategorized

Empty hands

Hebrews 4:16–Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

I’ve got nothin’. Nada. Zilch. Not usually one to be at a loss for words, I find myself in new territory as I type…because, to be honest, I’m empty.

The past two months have been a whirlwind at our house–navigating life with a newborn (again) and training a big brother. It’s been down-right exhausting–physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I find myself completely spent in all realms and pleading at the foot of the throne.

Too little sleep.

Post-partum hormones running their course.

Words flung.

One little boy wondering aloud if Mommy loves him.

It’s an equation I know too well.

It’s in these empty moments that I’m reminded of my desperate need for a Savior. The perfect One–waiting to pour out grace on this empty vessel. All I have to do is ask.

Fill me up, Lord. Fill me up.

Fill me up to overflowing so I can splash your love and grace over all those closest.

In the middle of the night, when it’s just me and a nursing newborn…Fill me up.

In the early hours, when I have to force a “Good morning” from my lips…Fill me up.

As I deal with tantrums and a jealous big brother vying for my attention…Fill me up.

Fill me up, Lord. Fill me up.

Maybe you’re like me today–feeling empty and broken. He sees you. He loves you. Go to the foot of the throne. He’s waiting to fill you up. All you have to do is ask.

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Just in time…the MOB Society is teaming up with the MOD Squad (for mothers of girls) in a series called Hope for the Weary Mom. Find Brooke of the MOB Society, and Stacey of the MOD Squad sharing their hearts on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Today, Stacey opens our series for all of the weary moms.

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How to be a Friend

By on October 9, 2011 in connection with boys, Life Lessons, reflection, the heart, Uncategorized

He’s sitting on the street curb, arms wrapped around suddenly too long legs; face turned toward the house with an unwavering gaze.

He’s been there for an hour; all attempts to come play with me, come play with his sister, and come inside falling flat.

“No, momma. I want to wait. He said he would come outside soon.”

I sigh and sit back down on the porch, struggling with the picture in front of me.

They played once or twice when we first moved in, but the other boy is busy with activities and not home very much.  This is the third time since then that my boy has drummed up the courage to walk over without me, knock on the door, ask politely to play.  This is the third time he’s been told “maybe later” and then sat on the curb and waited to no avail.

The sun starts to set, the air cools, and my boy finally walks home, a determined look on his face.

“I’ll try again tomorrow momma. I’ll try again.  He’s really busy and will need time to just play.”

I’m struck by his confidence and his lack of fear.  I’m amazed at his empathy for someone he barely knows; his willingness to keep pushing forward when the outcome seems dubious.

I start to realize that the little boy growing up before my eyes may not share my emotions for this situation.

I see him waiting and waiting for a friend to come outside and play with him, imagine him feeling the sting of rejection each time the friend never comes outside, worry that doubt and fear might creep in and make him want to avoid the pursuit of community and that friendship.

He sees the need to be patient, to wait it out, to stand firm, to try again, to never give up, to love no matter what.

My boy has always taken after me in this challenging territory of trying to make friends.  We’re both guilty of social anxiety, playing it safe, hiding behind routine and comfort, isolating ourselves because we just didn’t know how to manage the intricate mountains and valleys of how to make a friend.

But I see now that he has grown~ that the millions of ways we tried to prepare our children for this move, including prayer and guidance to remember who they are in Christ~ loved, valued, and built for community~ have been ingrained deeply.

I see now that my boy is not interested in how to make a friend…he’s interested in how to be a friend.

A lesson this momma needed to be reminded of as well.

Have you struggled with friendships, especially when in new places or circumstances? How did you handle it?  

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