Worship and Worry ~ A Tale of Two Sisters

Worship and Worry ~ A Tale of Two Sisters. Luke chapter 10:38-42  ~ The tale of Mary and Martha. One sister, Martha invited Jesus to her house. Yet, she is worried, distracted by many things.  Frustrated she has no help getting the meal ready, angry her sister Mary is doing ‘nothing’… Yet she is doing something… she is doing the one thing that matters. Mary is sitting at the feet of Jesus and listening to His teaching.

If I could walk in the sandals of these two women, I can see myself in both of them. I am not easily caught up in housework and fuss. I can easily let go of the daily tasks, to-do-lists and leave the house-mess. But. I am still easily caught up in the net of worry. I am distracted by many things. I might not be actively avoiding tasks for the sake of time with Jesus, but I am actively accomplishing much worry.

I am sitting at the feet of Jesus, yet immersed in worry while I’m there. I am actively sitting at His feet, but worry is looming while my soul is longing to be engaged. I am distracted by the many things I am not accomplishing while I am longing to hear the heartbeat of Jesus. This is not where Jesus wants me to be.

“It’s impossible to worship and to worry at the same time.”

I sang this phrase in worship over our church a while ago. This Truth saturated the room thru a lyric He stirred in my heart. I can not be fully in the presence of God, in worship, and worry at the same time. I must choose. 

I know the truth of both Mary and Martha. I have experienced both. I have been overcome by His presence, fully engaged in worship while doing the dishes and cleaning toilets. And I been embraced by His arms, settled in His love, simply Being with Him and doing nothing else. 

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Today I was given a gift of opportunity. I went running. walking. strutting… whatever you want to call it… huffing and puffing… I slow down. I see. She’s standing there. Beside her car, cigarette in one hand. Leaning back against the passenger door. I hear three words: Abused, hungry, rejected. “Hi” I greet her. She responds with a “hello” as well. This was a moment. God was opening a door to show His love to her. But I walk on…  I’m in a hurry. I am distracted by many things. I need to finish my run, walk, putter… I only have a set amount of time before I must be home. Before I need to pick up the kids from school. Pay the bills. Finish the chores… my mind is spinning.

I keep walking, 1 minute passes, maybe even less. Damn you, Time! And the lie I believe there is a lack of it. I turn around. Screw time restraints. Forget the rest of my putter… I stop. I turn back. I missed it! She’s gone. She’s driving away.

I won’t miss this gift again. I long to be in a routine of worship. I wrongly believed I was. It changed oh so subtly. I have been in a routine of worry. In worry I miss worship. In worry I miss Jesus. In worry I miss the gift to show His love. In worry I miss His presence. In one minute I missed her. 

God still loves me. This is not a beat myself over the head, I suck at following Jesus moment to bemoan and drive me into despair. This is a moment to listen. To learn. To sit at the feet of Jesus. In worship there is never a lack of time. In His presence, He fuels all that we need. In distraction and worry, everything can be stolen. This is a moment of repentance, humility and growth. I am learning ~ I never want to miss the One Thing again.

This is a moment to share. If this encourages you, pass it on! I am thankful for your reading.

In Him, Leslie

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Running Prayers

A few days ago I went running –and by ‘running’ I mean trudging along the pavement loudly breathing, feet heavy with each step– picture an elephant running from a lion. yep. that’s me ‘running’. Still. I run. Slowly… surely… at an 11 minute mile pace. I run.

I left the house after piddling around delaying the inevitable workout. I was thankful for an opportunity to exercise in the beautiful outdoors and have some quiet moments to myself while Adam was home with the kids. The primary reason I run is for mental sanity. I’m not really burning off blubber or becoming a body builder with this speed — but I am keeping sane. When I run, I am a better mom. wife. friend. everything. For me, running is more of a mental workout. I worship, listen to sermons, or run in silence. Running is a sacred time of heart racing, muscle engaging moments connecting with my Creator, becoming undone in His presence.  

Within the first few seconds of take off, my excitement for this spiritual workout dwindled and I almost turned around. My knee began to hurt and I talked myself into continuing as a ‘fast walk’. –hey. better than nothing I assured myself– after a few minutes, I began running again. My knee stopped hurting and settled into my 11 minute mile pace and heavy breathing pattern. I was feeling pretty good.

About halfway thru my 3 miles of running blazing glory, my mind was focused on God and listening. I breezed by the family of baby ducklings living on the small lake near our home. I have passed them many times before, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at their cuteness. This time, I prayed a prayer of protection over the ducklings. Within seconds, my thoughts second-guessed this seemly silly prayer and I was surprised the prayer had even crossed my mind. Suddenly the prayer doubt was swept away by the sureness of His closeness. I was firmly settled in God’s presence as my feet clomped along with each obedient step. I felt fully in tune with His thoughts.

A moment later, I came around the bend of the lake and heard a dog approaching behind me. Unsure of the dog being on a leash, I turned around and saw two young girls running down the hill toward the path – one wrestling the dogs leash to keep him pulled back, the other holding a net. As I turned back toward the path, I noticed three more baby ducklings separated from the rest of their family. My heart sank. I knew.

I continued around the bend, and stopped on the bridge –adding more time to my already slow mileage– but my mothers instinct and Holy Spirit prompting, burdened me to stop and pay attention to these girls. I waited to see what I knew was going to happen. The girl with the net scooped up one of the ducklings holding it gently, while the other girl held onto the dogs leash.

“Hey girls, you probably shouldn’t pick them up… ummm… it could mess up their feeding with their mom.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, and these girls weren’t being malicious toward the ducklings, but I knew I needed to say something. After all, I had just asked God to protect these ducklings and I was pretty sure the mother duck wasn’t okay with her baby being caught and cuddled by a human. I think the girls were surprised I said anything or that anyone was paying attention. She replied “Oh sorry” and quickly let the duckling go back to its mother, who was quacking loudly distraught over the whole incident, I’m certain ;).

As I continued my run, I asked God why He prompted such a simple prayer for baby ducks. His response — I care about every detail, no matter how small. Listen attentively for My voice. I will prompt you to pray for greater things — and He did.

When I run, I may move slowly thru the mileage, but I know my prayers are mighty, moving mountains for His glory upon the earth. May His Kingdom come more quickly even now. Amen.

Have you ever prayed a simple prayer only to discover the depth and understanding of it? Share your thoughts! Feel free to comment and follow this blog for more half written records on our journey!

In Him, Leslie 🙂

Let the little children… interrupt.

Let the little children… interrupt. 

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For to such, belongs the Kingdom of Heaven.

The tug on your shirt… they brush against your leg, they press up close, practically up your butt… you know your child is there, waiting patiently to tell you the next chapter their imagination just unfolded… or they say to you, ‘Mommy, watch this! Did you see what I just did? …Mommy, are you watching? Mommy, did you hear me?’ but you are talking… maybe you are ready to listen, maybe not… maybe it’s an important conversation you are in… maybe not.

Growing up, maybe you heard from your parents or other adults, “Be quiet – don’t interrupt an adult while they’re speaking… or… kids should be seen – not heard.” At times, I’ve observed parents say to their children, “Don’t interrupt an adult while they’re speaking…” or something similar… and it struck me – I rarely say that to mine. (((gasp))) I must be a horrible mom.

Either my kids must have impecable manners – and never interrupt… or my kids must have no manners – and must not have any respect for adults.

Adults always have something wonderful to say… well, sometimes.  Adults are always full of wisdom… well, sometimes. Kids should always be ‘shooshed’ when an adult is speaking… well, sometimes. Kids should never interrupt an adult. Well… no.

I love talking about world issues and injustice. I love talking about Jesus or whatever you believe in… I’ll have a good healthy go-round about beliefs anytime, but I can grow bored in other adult conversation rather quickly… oh really, your vacuum broke and you had to decide which model of Dyson to purchase… oh wow, your shopping spree included five new cardigans you don’t need… oh no, your 4,000 square house is too small… that’s rough. oh I’m sorry, your refrigerator stopped working and your ice cream spoiled… It happens. At this point in adult conversations, I zone out.  There’s not much else to say…

I am an advocate for manners, and kids listening to their parents, not being rude, and not developing a habit of interrupting adults… however, at times our children need to be heard and we are too busy talking and not listening.

Children need to be heard. We need to give them a voice, and their voices need to be validated.

In Matthew 18:1-4 The disciples question Jesus, “‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ And calling to Him a child, He put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly I say to you (adults), unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.'” Later in Matthew 19:13-15 Jesus speaks to a crowd of adults, “Let the little children come to Me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”

Adults, let’s be frank. We need to shut up sometimes. We need to stop talking… and listen… to each other, and to our children. I am guilty of being a parent who doesn’t listen well… and I’ve also grown as an adult, who is a better listener.

Adults, we need to listen now – when our children are saying things that don’t. even. make. sense. Telling us the stories unlocked from inside their imagination. They need to know we are listening to the nonsense they are saying and become engaged in the conversation with them. I long to hear their stories of roller skating dinosaurs, unicorn super heroes and all the details of the worm they found while digging in the yard and named “Wormy”… Engaging in these conversations are teachable moments.  In the freedom to tell stories, they also learn to listen to each others stories, and grow in their ability to communicate.

“I love my mom because she listens to me.” My oldest is a conversational vault. Only certain keys, turned at the right time, in the right place, unlock certain places in her heart. I never know when she will open up the treasure of her thoughts. I need to be ready listen to her, even when I’m tired, and she’s ready to have a deep discussion about poverty and the future of our planet an hour past her bedtime.

When we listen, we will hear some of the best wisdom and truth comes from the mouths of babes. Recently, our 4 year old was telling me, “I know why you like God… because He made me the way I am… and because He made our family… and that’s all I fink.” 🙂

Last week, the kids were discussing the ultra-serious life-altering decision of …what they will be when they grow up. Salem tells his sisters, “I’m gonna be whatever God calls me to be when I grow up.” Yep.

Are we always hearing spiritual wisdom out of the mouths of the babes at our house? Um…no.  We have our share of burping, farting and booger stories.  We have our share of long detailed stories about dora and boots, Legos and little boy, Barbie and Cupcake Diaries, and we have long drawn out times of drama, crying, yelling, wailing and gnashing of teeth … okay, not really that last part.

Listen between the crazy stories … even if you can’t understand what your 2 year old is saying.

Listen between the silliness … there is always room for more laughter! Old people need to laugh more.

Listen between the seriousness … you never know when the vault might be unlocked for the treasure to be heard.

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What do you think? Are kids given too little or too much of a voice today?

Thanks for reading, sharing and joining us on this journey! In Him, Leslie