Category - Faith

Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid: #3 – I Don’t Talk About God All the Time

April 4, 2016

In continuing with my series on Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid, I’ve had several different ideas for topics to share. I’ve already confessed that being raised in church isn’t enough and that my parents never expected us to be “perfect preacher’s kids.” They also didn’t expect us to always talk about God and church.

Today’s Confession: I Don’t Talk About God All the Time

Growing up in church means growing up around church people, and something I’ve noticed over the years is that there are some things that Christians do that are more part of the “church culture” or to seem more “Christian-y” that are not really Biblical or beneficial to the kingdom of God or reaching a lost world.

One of those things is how some Christians talk.

No, I’m not talking about gossip or cussing, even though both of those are not good practices or Christ-like, as the Bible tells us to “let no unwholesome word come out of our mouths” (Ephesians 4:29). As we grow in our relationship with God, those things should fall by the wayside. To stubbornly hold on to them is really a heart issue.

Actually, the annoying talk that I’ve encountered among some Christians would be almost the exact opposite of that. It’s when people only ever talk in scripture, “Christianese” phrases, or sermon quotes.

Why is this frustrating? Shouldn’t the “words of our mouth…be acceptable to” God?

Yes, they should. (Psalm 19:14)

Shouldn’t we be talking about what the Bible says and what God has done?

Yes, we should.

However, I’ve known a number of people who have hidden behind their God-centered words to avoid being real or transparent with others.

For example, if you asked them how their day was going, the response might be something, like, “This is the day that the Lord has made, so I will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Is their day going well, or are they choosing to rejoice despite a bad day? Not sure. Speaking in faith is good, but so is being honest. If I can’t understand or relate to you as a fellow believer, how are you going to reach others who really have no idea what you’re saying?

I remember one family I knew for a long time whose father rarely answered questions about himself or their family or life, really, without referencing God, church, or scripture. Even though I spent several years around them all, I never felt as though I really knew him, and he didn’t seem approachable or genuine.

Once when I was spending time with them, I began to feel as though something must be wrong with me or my relationship with God because, even though I had God’s Word hidden in my heart from reading it faithfully over the years, I had plenty of conversations where I didn’t mention God at all or quote a single verse.

That night when I was praying, I asked God, “Am I not speaking about You enough? Am I supposed to sound like these other people?”

God’s answer was simple, “Let your words be seasoned with salt.” (Colossians 4:6)

Anyone who’s watched a cooking show knows that seasoning can make or break a dish. Seasoning something with salt doesn’t just mean adding salt, but adding the right amount of salt for the dish you’re cooking. With that verse, God reminded me that not everything requires the same amount of salt. While potatoes are going to need a lot, fruit or ice cream don’t need much at all.

No matter what you’re making, not having enough salt leaves a dish lacking flavor, but too much salt can make it inedible. You have to know how and when to use it.

Never having God’s words in your mouth means you’re not whetting the appetite of the world to want to know God. However, forcing scriptures or God into every conversation can make talking to you completely unpalatable.

I avoided talking to my friend’s dad because he only gave cliché or pat responses, and he only asked you questions about what you’d read in the Bible or what your church was doing. It always felt as if I were being measured by how holy my answers were.

However, once I had that confirmation from God, I knew that God was fine if I didn’t mention Him in every sentence.

His Word says that it’s “out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks” (Luke 6:45). My love for God is already in my heart, and it will come out naturally in my life and in my words, seasoning my conversations genuinely, in a way that will draw others to Him, giving them a hunger for more of Him.

Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid: #2 – My Parents Never Expected Us to Be “Perfect Preacher’s Kids”

March 28, 2016

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Life in Lape Haven: Confessions of a Preacher's Kid: #2 - My Parents Never Expected Us to Be "Perfect Preacher's Kids" - Expecting our children to always behave and never make mistakes is wrong, especially when we place the importance on the outward appearance and not their heart.

Last week I introduced a blog series based on my experiences growing up as a preacher’s kid. In these “Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid,” I’m sharing what I’ve learned about Christianity, following Jesus, and the church from my behind-the-scenes perspective and how it affects how I’m laying foundations of faith for my own children.

Today’s Confession: My Parents Never Expected Us to Be “Perfect Preacher’s Kids”

We all know that no one is perfect, so saying that my parents didn’t expect their children to be perfect doesn’t seem like that profound of a statement.

However, in some church environments, there is a certain expectation or higher standard held up for not only the minister, but his entire family. They are set up as an example for the entire congregation to follow.

When I say “expectations or high standards,” I’m not talking about God’s standards for those leading His people. Those are a given. Your pastor should be living a life that is pleasing and honoring to God. Absolutely. He should be in fellowship with and accountable to Godly counsel. His house should definitely be in order. (1 Timothy 3:1-13)

But order doesn’t mean perfection or flawless. It means the home is under God’s authority, His presence reigns there, and that the parents are next in the chain of command, leading their children, dependent on God’s grace and wisdom.

Those expectations and standards are right.

However, sometimes people add to this, adding a pressure of perfection to those other requirements that is impossible for any human to maintain. They have an ideal of what they believe that the pastor, his wife, or his children should be like (very friendly and outgoing, always in a great mood, supernaturally holy and reverent, dressed in a certain way, etc.)

And while that can be difficult for a pastor or pastor’s wife, it’s even more difficult for a child.

Children are still learning every day. They make mistakes every day. They will most likely misbehave often. They haven’t perfected the art of sharing and putting others first, so they might be selfish at points. There will be times when they will be loud and rowdy or cranky. Their attention span is generally going to be shorter than an adult’s.

Thankfully, my parents understood this. And while I saw other minister’s children held to impossible standards by their families or congregation members, I wasn’t. That kind of pressure and emphasis on behaving because you’re being watched rather than because it comes from your heart creates someone who is good at playing along with Christianity but their heart is far from Christ. (Isaiah 29:13)

Of course, while my parents didn’t expect unrealistic perfection from us, they did require us to behave as they knew we could and should, based on our age and experience, and they prayed for us and had faith that God would keep us as we grew in Him.

My mother once had a conversation with another woman in ministry where this woman basically told my mom, “Oh, I expect my children to experiment with drinking and other things that they shouldn’t. They’re kids.” My mom’s reply was, “I don’t,” and she defended the foundation that she knew was being laid for us and her faith in God to lead us and His Holy Spirit to convict us. She didn’t demand for us to be super holy and perfect, but she also didn’t give us permission to live like the world. My parents trained us, discipled us, and disciplined us as needed. But our behavior wasn’t about the impression we were making or because we were the preacher’s kids. It was about becoming more like Christ and doing what was right and pleasing to God. If my parents hadn’t been in ministry positions, they would have trained us the exact same way.

As a little girl, I was a talkative, boisterous, wiggly child with boundless energy, a solid stubborn streak, and a temper thrown in just for fun. (My mother has laughed about how much my oldest son is like me, even to the point of telling me that she kind of feels sorry for me since she knows what I have to deal with sometimes.)

If any church member expected me to sit completely still and absorb every word spoken during the sermon and not doodle or fidget or fight with my brothers, they were probably sadly disappointed.

Some people seem to expect a child who is following Jesus to behave like a tiny adult, with a maturity that he or she hasn’t arrived at yet.

I loved Jesus. I absolutely did. But I was still a child, and even as I grew, I wasn’t perfect.

As an adult now, I have to remember that with my own children and the children I teach at church. While I can train my boys to be quiet during prayer (“close your eyes, sit still, clasp your hands” are just tools to help them focus), they aren’t going to last through a ten-minute interceding without at least looking around at some point. I can teach them how to respect God’s house and take care of the church, but they are still going to break out in a run occasionally, either entering or exiting the building, or talk loudly (even yell) when they get excited about something.

And as they grow and mature into older children, then young adults, they still aren’t going to always do everything right or be perfect, but Brad and I are prayerful that they will become more and more sensitive to God’s leading, as we continue to lead them in their walk with God, praying with them and over them and being the examples that they need. We never want their behavior to be based on an outward appearance. We want it to be motivated by their relationship with Jesus and His work in their lives.

“Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me.” Philippians 3:12

Looking into the Tomb

March 23, 2016

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Life in Lape Haven: Looking into the Tomb. Just as it was for the women who came that Sunday morning long ago to prepare the body of Jesus, it can be intimidating, mysterious, and a little scary to look into the tomb and be reminded of sin, death, and sacrifice, but the empty tomb is there to show us Life and Victory.

I didn’t want to do it.

I remember – I really didn’t want to do it.

I was 6 or 7 years old, standing on the stage of our little church, going through dress rehearsal for the children’s Easter production, and playing the part of one of the women who came to anoint Jesus’s body at the tomb. I’m not sure which woman I was supposed to be. All I remember for certain was that my character was supposed to be the one who looked into the empty tomb.

And I didn’t want to do that.

Little girl me didn’t want to look into the giant black hole of the tomb…which wasn’t even a hole. It was a picture, painted on a large canvas as part of our set and scenery. My own mother had painted it.

I knew it wasn’t real, but still – there was something intimidating, almost mysterious, and a little scary about it. (Sometimes having a good imagination backfires…)

So, they switched me with one of the other girls playing another one of the women at the tomb. One who didn’t have to pretend to look in.

It’s laughable now that I was so hesitant. It was just a set.

Or maybe I was just really in character that day.

Wouldn’t the women who’d come to prepare Jesus’s body be slightly unsettled to see the huge stone rolled to one side, exposing the opening of the dark tomb? Wouldn’t they hesitate a little before they went in to investigate?

I’m certain there was something intimidating, very mysterious, and a little bit scary about it.

Yet once they went in, well…it was probably still somewhat intimidating, very mysterious, and a little bit scarier.

Jesus wasn’t there, but an angel or two were.

It wasn’t what they expected when they’d set out early that morning. They’d seen Jesus die, knew that His body had been placed in this borrowed tomb, and though they were no doubt grieving deeply, they were dutifully coming to prepare His body and find some closure.

To find an empty tomb instead?

I don’t know that they were instantly aware of what it all meant. In Mark’s telling of that morning, he says of the women in Chapter 16, verse 8, “So they went out quickly and fled from the tomb, for they trembled and were amazed. And they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

After the angel tells them that Jesus is alive and to go tell His disciples that He’s going to meet them all in Galilee (verses 6 & 7), the women flee, trembling, amazed, and afraid until Mary Magdalene actually sees Jesus in the garden later (verse 9).

I’ve often wondered why Easter isn’t celebrated as “big” as Christmas is, even among Christians. Yes, we celebrate Easter, but not with tons of decorations, two months of songs, multiple parties and gatherings, or any of that.

Easter is the biggest point in human history, the most triumphant and victorious, but its joy is different than the joy of Christmas time.

I think the answer is in those verses in Mark.

It’s easy to look into the manger. It’s a lot harder to look into the tomb.

[clickToTweet tweet=”‘It’s easy to look into the manger. It’s a lot harder to look into the tomb.’ ” quote=”It’s easy to look into the manger. It’s a lot harder to look into the tomb.”]

The tomb reminds us of our mortality and our sin. It reminds us of sacrifice and struggle.

Looking into the tomb is intimidating, mysterious, and a little scary.

However, it takes looking in to see that it’s empty, and that emptiness means that sin and death were defeated, that Jesus was and is victorious, and that through Him, we are, too. It’s through the empty tomb that Jesus brought us life.

We may not fully understand the entirety of the miracle, but even an inkling of it is enough to leave us trembling and amazed and in awe of our Mighty God, His love, and His power.

This Easter, take a good look into the tomb. It may be intimidating, mysterious, and a little bit scary, but it’s still empty.

Feature picture courtesy of CreationSwap/Joel Millhouse.

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Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid – #1 Being Raised in Church Isn’t Enough

March 21, 2016

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Confessions of a Preacher's Kid: Being Raised in Church ISN'T Enough. While having your children in church is a great start and a good foundation for their Christian walk, just being in church isn't a guarantee that your child will follow God all their life. But there is more that you can do to help encourage their lifelong relationship with Christ.

Some of you know that I grew up as a PK – a “pastor’s kid” or “preacher’s kid” – although I guess the correct terminology would be a “minister’s kid” because my dad wasn’t always in a position as the pastor, but he and my mother have always been in ministry of some kind (music ministry, youth leaders, elder, etc.), even before they were married.

Having the upbringing I did has given me a unique perspective on Christian life and a behind-the-scenes view that generally only other kids from ministry families know. Having known plenty of other PK’s, though, I know that my experience wasn’t always typical even among them.

So this is the start of a sort of series to share what I’ve learned throughout my life about Christianity, church, and following God’s calling, and how this affects how I approach laying the foundation of faith for my own children.

I’m calling it “Confessions of a Preacher’s Kid.”

Today’s confession: Being Raised in Church ISN’T Enough

Since we were preacher’s kids, most people would say that my brothers and I were “raised in church.” In Christianese, “being raised in church” means that, generally, you come from a Christian home and you’ve grown up attending church regularly (a PK more than attends church – you practically live at church at some points). It means that all your life, you’ve learned about Creation, Noah’s Ark, David and Goliath, Daniel and the Lions’ Den, Esther, and all about Jesus’s birth, His ministry on earth, His crucifixion, and His resurrection. You’ve probably learned several dozen memory verses, as well as the books of the Bible, the Ten Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Fruit of the Spirit. You know songs from multiple generations of church-goers – hymns, Sunday school songs with motions, and contemporary praise songs. You know the order of a typical service and when to clap or when to stand.

What “being raised in church” or even being a preacher’s kid doesn’t always mean is that you actually know Jesus and have a solid, growing relationship with Him.

What it doesn’t always mean is that you continue going to church once you are out of your parents’ home and on your own.

What it doesn’t always mean is that you step out and seek God for how to use the gifts and talents He’s placed in you to reach the lost world around you.

It’s sadly true.

Being raised in church is not a guarantee that your child will follow God. It’s a good foundation and a great start, but it’s not a sure thing.

I’ve seen it over and over again from the time I was young.

As one of the church kids who gave my life to Jesus at an early age (4 years old) and who has continued to grow in Him, stayed in church, and is active in serving, I’ve had parents ask me what they need to do to help their children continue to walk with God throughout their lives. They want to know why I’m “still in church” when other former minister’s kids and church kids are not.

My answer is this: I wasn’t raised in church. I was discipled in church. There’s a HUGE difference. The word “disciple” is more intentional. It means to “teach or train,” while “raise” just means “to grow.”

I didn’t just grow up. I was discipled.

(Now I will say, no matter how well you do in teaching your children, you can’t make them follow God. They still have freewill and a choice. However, if they’ve already made the decision to follow Jesus, then they need to be discipled and encouraged to continue growing in their relationship with God.)

I was taught and mentored by people (beginning with my parents) who had a high expectation of what God could do in and through children and young people. My time in Sunday school, children’s church, and youth group were not about entertaining me, keeping me happy, and teaching me to just be a good person. It was about discipling me, training me, preparing me, and teaching me about Who God is, what His Word says, who I am in Him, how the Bible applies to my life, finding out what His plan for my life was, and uncovering my gifts and talents so I could use them to reach and bless others.

I had teachers and mentors who challenged me, held me accountable to living in a way that was pleasing to God, and spoke the truth in love into my life.

One of those teachers was Miss Betty, a mighty, powerful woman of God who adores children almost as much as she does Jesus. She was my Sunday school teacher when I was in second or third grade, I think, but she didn’t water down the gospel for us because we were young. She fervently believed that God could speak to us and that we could understand and hear Him and follow His leading. She emphasized the importance of knowing scripture for ourselves. I remember her telling us that we needed to know what God’s Word said and bring our Bibles so we could see it for ourselves when she or anyone else was teaching or preaching. She also taught about our authority in Christ and how we could pray, quote scripture, and rebuke the Devil in Jesus’s name.

You might not think that that last point was important for a child or that we shouldn’t scare them with talk of the Devil or demons. But you know what? I needed it.

As a little girl of 7 or 8, I dealt with not only occasional fear at night, as most children do, but there was also a time period of what I now know were attacks from the Enemy to steal my peace and rest. Whether it was a few days or a week or so, I don’t remember, but as I was falling asleep at night, I would hear voices in my head, not talking to me, but about me to each other. The voices would argue and be nasty to each other. It was just weird and unsettling, and it was NOT my imagination.

However, thanks to Miss Betty and my parents, I knew that my Mighty God was with me, and I knew what to do. I prayed, out loud, and I quoted 2 Timothy 1:7, over and over – “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind” – until there was peace in my bedroom, my mind, and my heart.

Another person who discipled me was my high school youth pastor, Scott, who is probably the best youth pastor ever. He never let us stay comfortable in our walk with God. From his very first sermon as our youth pastor, he challenged us and pushed us to step out in faith, to go deeper with God, to know His voice and follow Him, and to expect God to do amazing things through our obedience.

When I approached Scott about how so many of our youth would do well in dramas and skits, he looked right back at me and said, “Then why don’t you start a drama team. I’m putting you in charge. You lead it.” That was not what I wanted or anticipated, but Scott was calling me to step up. If God put it in my heart and gave me the vision for it, there was a reason. (THAT was a growing experience for sure.)

Of course, my most important teachers were my parents. No matter how many great preachers or leaders I learned from, my parents were my first examples of what it meant to not just “stay in church,” but to stay in a relationship with Jesus. They lived it out before my brothers and me every day, and not just because they were in ministry or because it was their “job.” It was because they loved God. For my parents, ministry flows out of their relationship with Him. It’s never been about obligation but rather obedience.

Parents, while there will be tremendous people that God will put in your children’s lives to lead them and train them, you need to be their primary example.

You need to disciple your children.

Be intentional with your conversations.

Let them know how God has changed your life, and share what He has spoken to you lately and how He has used you.

Be honest and transparent about how God is stretching you or dealing with you in a certain area.

Teach them how to read the Bible and pray.

Challenge them to dig deeper in the Word and seek God.

Watch for their gifts and abilities and encourage them to find a way to use them for God’s glory.

Pray, pray, pray for them.

And yes, take them to church.

But if you want to help them have a genuine, thriving relationship with God, don’t just raise them in church. Disciple them.

Perhaps the “preacher calling” runs in the family – Elijah has already given his first sermon!

—

Want to know what my other “confessions of a preacher’s kid” are?:

#2 – My Parents Never Expected Us to “Perfect Preacher’s Kids”

#3 – I Don’t Talk About God All the Time

#4 – True Ministry Isn’t Easy or Glamorous

#5 – How I’ve Maintained a Strong Faith

#6 – Not Being Like “the World” Doesn’t Mean You Have to Hide from It

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Feature picture courtesy of CreationSwap/Bobby Ross.

The Hope of Spring

March 17, 2016

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Life in Lape Haven: The Hope of Spring. From azaleas in Georgia to forsythia in Ohio, the arrival of spring is always a time of hope, joy, and new life.

When I was in high school, my family lived in southeast Georgia, about an hour from Savannah, and while winters down south are generally pretty mild, especially compared to what we were used to in Ohio, we always looked forward to spring and the blooming of the azaleas in early March.

If you’ve never been in southeast Georgia when the azaleas are in bloom, I’m sorry – because it is absolutely gorgeous. At our house we had several azalea bushes that contributed to the overall beautification of the area, and it always brought me so much joy just to see the brightly-colored blossoms all around.

Photo courtesy of pixabay.com

Now that we’ve been back up north for 16 years, spring isn’t marked by azaleas anymore, but rather by the forsythia.

In Ohio, we pray for the forsythia to bloom, especially when it has been a cold, harsh winter.

I don’t really think the forsythia is a very pretty plant. There’s no greenery on it when the yellow blooms appear (since the flowers are actually the starts of the leaves), so it’s more like sticks with some random yellow petals on them until the plant fills out a bit more. It’s not nearly as breath-taking as an azalea, even if the bright color is nice after a long season of brown.

But unlike the azalea, whose gorgeous display is the prize itself, it’s the promise that comes with the forsythia’s first blossoms that make it such a wonderful sight to see.

According to old weather folklore, once the forsythia blooms, there are only three more snows left (and usually only flurries) before you are done with winter, and it is truly spring!

Seeing the little yellow blossoms is like glimpsing the light at the end of a cold, dreary tunnel. For as long as I’ve known about this little weather predictor (my mom told us all about it), I’ve never seen it fail. I’ve watched and counted the snow falls every year. Brad thought that I was crazy until he, too, started keeping an eye out for the forsythia’s first sprouts of yellow and saw that the folklore is true.

Now he’s the one asking if “that plant” has bloomed yet, particularly on very gloomy, chilly days in late February or early March. He’s even suggested that we just bring one inside to “help” it bloom sooner.

By the end of winter, even if it’s mild where you live, we are all longing for the hope, joy, and new life of spring.

Is it any wonder, then, that Easter falls during this season? Just like the forsythia’s first colors promise only three more snows and the hope for freedom from winter, Jesus’s death meant only three more days until He rose again, bringing a beautiful, glorious hope of forgiveness, joy, and new life in Him and a true freedom more amazing than even the azaleas in full bloom.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” ~ 1 Peter 1:3

Walking Closely

March 10, 2016

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Life in Lape Haven: Walking Closely: How Doggie-Doo & My 3-Yr-Old Point to God. Walking a child through a yard littered with dog leavings is tricky, especially when your child won't stay close.

How Doggie-Doo & My 3-Year-Old Point to God

Due to my hubby’s and Elijah’s allergies, when we got a dog a couple years ago, we knew we would have to go with a more hypoallergenic breed. Through God’s provision, we were able to bring home a 5-year-old chocolate Labradoodle named Vincent, or Vinny for short.

This giant teddy bear of a dog has brought lots of joy to our home…and occasionally some frustration. For example, he likes to “counter-surf,” meaning snatching food off the kitchen counters whenever he can, and since his muzzle is almost at the same height as the counters, he can grab things rather easily if we aren’t around. (He once ate an entire box of beautiful, delicious cookies that we’d just brought home from a friend’s wedding!)

With the spring thaw, another frustration has come back into play: Vinny’s…umm…”doggie-doo” – all over the yard where my boys are very excited to play. Of course, we understand that this is all part of having a dog, and even the Bible says “where no oxen (or dogs, in our case) are, the trough is clean…” (Proverbs 14:4).

But have you ever tried to direct a clumsy nearly-3-year-old, who INSISTS on running full speed AND in a zig-zag, across a yard littered with dog leavings?

The odds are generally NOT in your favor, but thankfully, I beat the odds the other day.

On the return from the mailbox, though, Josiah was excited to be carrying a flyer into the house for me, so getting him to pay attention to me or his steps sounded more like this:

“Come here, Josiah. Walk over here by Mommy. No, this way. Stay with Mommy. No. Watch where you’re stepping. Don’t go over there. Josiah, come here. Careful! Grab my hand.” All the way to the back door.

*Sigh*

Technically, he was walking with me, but he wasn’t walking as “with me” as he could. He was determined to prove his independence (being almost 3, he’s been showing his “threeness” early, but thoroughly), while all I wanted to do was keep him safe from potential disaster. He would wander a bit closer to me, but then dart off again, just out of reach. I saw all the near-misses he somehow managed to pull-off even though he was completely oblivious to them.

Kids, huh?

And yet…we can do the same thing to God that Josiah did (does) to me.

We want to do things our way. We want to make the decisions. We want to be walking with God, but maybe not as “with Him” as we could be. That would mean giving up some of our independence. At times we’ll draw closer, but do we STAY close? And how many near-misses does God see that we are completely oblivious to?

Just like my heart toward Josiah, God doesn’t want us close so He can just dictate to us or prove He’s in charge.

He wants us close so He can lead our steps, direct us, and protect us from things we aren’t even aware of.

He wants us close so He can hold our hand, and we can share the adventure together.

“The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way.” ~ Psalm 37:23