Keep Running!

Note: For this post, I unashamedly offer this one excuse: I am a mother talking about her children.

Last weekend was packed with sporting activities for our family. Jessie’s ballet classes started again and the boys are immersed in soccer and football. Justin scored two incredible goals during his soccer game; Brandon scored a touchdown and forced an interception; and Jojo, in his flag football debut, scored two touchdowns!

During halftime at Jordan’s game, we asked him how it felt to run the entire length of the field and score his first touchdown. He replied, “Good, except I forgot to ask my coach where the end zone was. I didn't know where it was so I just kept running.”

Jordan took the ball and ran. As he looked back, he saw the other team was still chasing him and his parents were still frantically yelling, "Don't stop!"; so he kept running.

Years ago, Justin had a soccer coach who would tell him, “If you move the ball down the field, good things will happen”.

A big determinant in our success will be our ability to persevere and fight through difficulty. I believe that if we refuse to quit, if we’ll continue to move forward and keep running this race, we’ll experience the fullness of all that God has for us.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1)

Snap, Crackle, KABOOM!

While we were waiting in line for fireworks this afternoon, Gregg's dad reminded us of our favorite fireworks story. Gregg was a young boy and his dad had continuously warned him NOT to go near the box of fireworks with his lit punk. 


As a young curious boy, Gregg did just the opposite. Too excited to see a box of explosives within just a few feet of him, he inched closer and closer. His punk ignited the entire box of fireworks. Everything went up in flames. 


Fast forward 35 years. . . Gregg now has three boys of his own, two daughters and a nephew over for New Year's Eve. (In Hawaii, New Year's Eve is like 4th of July--times 10!)


Something fishy is going on in the driveway. The children all look incredibly suspicious. I call  to the curious one and ask what's going on. "Nothing. . . really, Mom." 


I don't buy it. "Please come inside, son. What are you really doing?"


"We haven't done anything. . . yet." His hands are holding a bunch of shredded up paper. 


"What are you planning to do with the shredded paper?" (They were supposed to be outside throwing their poppers around.)


"We've been taking the powder out of the poppers to stick inside all of the shredded paper to make an EXTRA BIG ONE!"


Please pray that I make it through the night without a trip to the ER.

Do What You Gotta Do

One night as I was putting my little Jojo to bed, I noticed that he had something in his mouth. It was a mouthful of candy! The little rascal. He was pretty bummed when I had him spit it all out. I vividly remember how he looked at me and with a sigh, he said, "Go ahead. Do what you gotta do."

Jordan didn't resist, didn't argue, didn't excuse. I laughed, but got to thinking how often my tendency is to resist God's work in my life, to make excuses and justify my attitudes.

David seemed to understand this too as he prayed in Psalm 27, "Teach me your way, O Lord; lead me in a straight path. . ."

I want Jesus to have his way in my life. Lord, do what you gotta do.

Searching for Jojo

In my last blog, I mentioned that only twice has my search for one of my children continued so long that I broke down in tears. Last Saturday was my second, this was my first experience:

It had been the perfect Easter day. A wonderful afternoon with friends that had extended well into the evening. It was now after 9:00 pm and time to gather our children and head for home.

The children all ran outside with their friends for one last minute of fun while I gathered the few remaining items. When we finally began loading everyone into the car, we realized that Jordan was nowhere to be found. Gregg ran inside to get him but couldn’t find him either.

That sick feeling rushed through my body. My stomach sank and my heart began to race. There were at least 12 of us looking everywhere for him and although we would loudly call out his name throughout the house and neighborhood, all we would hear in response was a dark eerie silence.

Amanda and Rick began searching one end of the street, while I took the other. Tina began frantically looking through every closet and spare space inside her home. Tina’s brother got a flashlight and began searching the woods in the back of their house while Gregg and Paul searched anywhere and everywhere they could imagine a four year old boy would wander. As all of our panic intensified, the time dragged on.

After what seemed an eternity (it actually was only about 15 min), we really thought it was about time to call the police. Then Tina found him.

Apparently, Jordan had crawled under one of the boys beds trying to retrieve one of his Easter eggs that had rolled out of his little reach. His shirt became caught on something and he couldn’t get out. He was stuck.

When we asked him why he didn’t respond when several of us came into the room calling (freakishly shouting) his name, he said it was because he had gum in his mouth. (Since when have my boys been concerned about talking with their mouth’s full?) He also said he thought it would be fun to scare daddy. (He didn’t take into account the many other adults who were sent into a frenetic panic.)

We all collapsed, emotionally drained and physically exhausted, breathing a big sigh of relief, thankful to be able to bring all of our children safely home.

Funny though, if you were to ask Jordan about the incident, he would tell you that he wasn’t lost. Just stuck.

Many Christians, in certain seasons and circumstances, find their relationship with God in a similar place. Stuck. Stuck in sin, stuck with the repercussions of bad choices, stuck with their bad habits and attitudes, and helpless to change. Unable to move forward.

How it must grieve God. Those children He loves, created and died for, just stuck. In those seasons, may we find the strength, power and grace that God supplies to move forward one day at a time.

Searching for Justin

One of the scariest experiences a parent can have is not being able to find their child. Only twice has my search for them gone so long that I was reduced to tears. Today was one of them.

Justin had finished his soccer game and we were now at Jordan’s game. About halfway through the third quarter, we realized that Justin had disappeared. We looked everywhere. Other fields, playgrounds, bathrooms. . . couldn’t find him anywhere. My heart began to race. It wasn’t like him to wander off without telling us—and he had just been sitting with us minutes before!

It was well into the fourth quarter when one of the parents shouted to us from across the field, “He’s over here!” Justin was just sitting on some steps, but a concrete wall had blocked him from our view.

After the whole experience, Gregg told me I shouldn’t have panicked. But I’m a mother. Can you expect anything less from a mother who can’t find her lost child?

How desperately God must feel towards his lost children.

“I will search for the lost and bring back the strays.” Ezekiel 34:16

“In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost.” Matthew 18:14