Like rich men and camels

1 James, a bond- servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ,
To the twelve tribes who are dispersed abroad: Greetings.
2 Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, 3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. 4 And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:1-4 NASB)

When it rains it pours. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard that old saying in my life. Meaning that when one trial comes…many come at once. And all too often it’s true. How is it that just at the moment in life when things start to get rough, just when we feel like we might can manage under the stresses coming our way at that time…that so many more just flood us?

Life has a way of throwing things at us in ways we never expect or are prepared for. Or so it seems. Many attribute all these things to life, to chance, to happening without ever knowing there was a greater Hand at work in it all. They chalk it all up to coincidence or bad luck.

But Scripture clearly tells us that there is a method to the madness. There is a reason. There is a purpose. There is a plan.

And there is a higher power…a holy God…controlling it all.

But what happens when a person begins to feel that even that Holy God has turned against them? When those trials become too much to bear and thoughts turn to how even the Lord has gone against us…what then?

If we are truly in Christ we may feel that way…I didn’t think it possible until recently when the many trials I have faced lately became just one too many…for a time. How long that time will last most likely will depend on many things. The biggest of those things is how long the Lord will let us stay there.

I was there not all that long ago. My every moment was weighed down with the pains and cares placed upon me by this world…by my Lord…and I struggled through each day. My human mind couldn’t handle the most recent…one in a line of many…trial that I was placed in. And I lost my focus. I struggled. I cried. I hurt.

But I did it all alone.

I forgot…in that pain…to turn to my Lord. And in forgetting I lost the Hope that lives in me. The Hope that lets me face each day, each trial, just a little bit easier.

And while I was in that time…while I was focusing on the hurt and not the Hope…I got weighed down. I forgot…for a time…that I needed to cling tighter to Christ.

I remember once, years ago, when I felt like the Lord was doing something in my life. What He was doing I couldn’t see but I could feel that He was working in me…changing me…changing my life. I remember that in my prayers I said something like ‘you’re taking me somewhere, aren’t you’ and realized as soon as I said it that He is always taking me somewhere.

Some days He gently guides me by the hand, leading me around every hole in the ground, every rock that might make me stumble and other days…

Other days he shoves me head first into a pit of unknown dangers. At least there are days when it feels that way. On those days…which are really times and not necessarily days…I barely manage to get my feet under me before the rug is yanked away. Sometimes what’s under the rug is solid floor and sometimes it’s a deep dark hole that I must tumble through.

Those are trials. They are tribulations. They are tests to my faith.

Sometimes I pass the tests.

And sometimes I fail.

But either way…the Lord always brings me through it. He always reminds me that my hope is in Him. And so is my life. In the good and the bad. He has a plan and a purpose for my life and because he does…there is a method to the madness.

Life in general is much like a roller coaster. Everyone has good days and bad days. They have good times and bad times. There are times of plenty and times of little. There are times when we are so happy we can’t see straight. And times when we hurt so much we can’t see at all.

I told my daughter a couple of months ago that it isn’t in our good times that we grow and learn but in the hard times. It’s in those moments that we must struggle and hurt that we grow and mature.

As parents we want so much to save our children from all suffering. We want them to be happy and to have the things they need…and all too often want…of this world. But we often forget that as Christians…it’s a whole different story. Scripture tells us that it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to go to heaven.

So why do we cater to our children? Why do we give them everything we can so that they have better earthly lives?

I spent so many years as a parent trying to give my children…everything. I didn’t want them to know when times got hard. I wanted them to feel secure. I did my best to give them security in everything…in our finances, in our home, in me. In everything.

And then one day…things changed. Suddenly, with little warning. And it shook my children’s world. The younger ones bounced back rather quickly. The middle ones had a little tougher time. But the oldest…oh, the oldest…it took months and much angst before there was any semblance of recovery. And the trial…wasn’t even a horrible experience. Only a change in life and circumstances.

But because I had gone to such lengths to keep everything secure…to see to it that the children knew as little suffering as possible…my children suffered when that change came.

How prepared are our children for the trials and tribulations of life when we protect them from the bumps in the road along the way?

How prepared are we for the mountains when we rarely climb the little hills?

I speak of children only because that time in our lives when things changed suddenly stands out so much as I write this. It reminds me of the very truth in camels going through needles verses rich men getting to heaven.

We may not see ourselves or our children as being rich but no matter how poor we are…people in America are generally richer than people in a good part of the world. Our children may grow up with parents that struggle to pay the bills but how many times do we find a way to get them as much of the ‘I want this’ that we can squeeze from our meager funds? And when the funds are greater…so are the ‘I wants’.

I remember in my teen, when I was ready for my first car, my grandmother loaned me the money to make a down payment on a car that only cost me $1,200.00 total. But I had to put a down payment on it and make payments until it was paid off. I not only made payments on the car but I made payments on the money my grandmother had loaned me to get the car. I bought my own gas, paid for my insurance and tags.

That car was my first taste of financial responsibility. I remember how hard I worked to make the money to make those payments and to keep that car. I was 17 years old, in high school, and raising a child that wasn’t mine.

I remember, too, how a few years later my grandmother bought my younger cousin a truck with a price tag in the thousands. That cousin was given that truck with no expectation of paying back a single penny of the price. That cousin paid for nothing of it’s expense.

At the time I remember thinking of how I had worked to pay off my car…which had cost a fraction of the price of my cousins truck…and how I had been expected to repay the few hundred dollars I had been loaned as the down payment for my car. At the time I think I may have had some hard feelings over that. But as time went on…as I saw the difference in how I matured as I worked for my car…and how my cousin didn’t…I was grateful things had worked our for me as they had.

Now, as I write this, as I remember that time in my life, I think of the camel and the rich man. I think of the lessons I learned in the struggle to pay for a car that cost so little. I remember how I agonized over the expense of vehicle repairs…but I got them done. I remember how happy I was to see new tires on my car the day I could finally afford to get them.

And I remember how careful I was with that car.

I knew better than to let it run out of oil because I would have to pay to have the damage repaired. I knew better than to leave the keys in the ignition because I would have to buy another car if that one got stolen.

Those are lessons that I learned well and still apply today.

I think, too, of the many Christmas toys that were short lived. Of the sometimes minutes that they held my children’s attention. And then I think of how that changed when the toys being received on Christmas dwindled. I think of how as my children learned to work for their own money, to buy their own toys, to understand that there would be less on Christmas morning, how they made wiser ‘I want’ lists. How they understood just what that toy they were given was worth.

They still leave their toys in the floor. They still grow bored with them. They still make ‘I want’ lists a mile long. But they also understand a little better…because they’ve had to buy some of those toys themselves…just what it takes to get them.

And I think of the camel and the rich man.

As a child I grew up with many struggles. Like everyone in all of time, those struggles came and went. There were hard times and there were easy times. Good times and awful times. There were times I would have stayed in forever and times I couldn’t wait to escape. But when I look back on my own childhood and I look at my children’s I can see that I succeeded in protecting them from so much of the bumps of childhood. That’s good, right? Isn’t it what all of us as parents try to do?

But in the end do I want my child to be a camel or a rich man?

Do I want them to learn and grow because they had to struggle a while or do I want them to despair because they are protected from the struggles, because I do all that I possibly can for them, and then have to watch them reach despair when they must face hills that I can’t route them around…long before they ever have to climb a mountain.

And I think of the camel and the rich man.

And I think of me. Of my own life. Of my hurts, my pain, my trials.

I remember reading something years ago about how the Mennonites go through life looking at everything as heaven is the goal. Then they ask themselves if whatever they are doing…getting…thinking about…will get them closer to that goal or further away from it.

I have no idea if they really do that or if it was something someone wrote somewhere because it’s what they think the Mennonites do. And I know that whether heaven is our goal or not…nothing we do will get us there so that thought process is futile. But I found it to be an interesting idea at the time that I read it and I find it interesting now.

Not because we can get ourselves to heaven through the things we do or do not do, but because of the camel and the rich man. Because I worked for my car and my cousin didn’t. Because I see the difference in how I handled problems of all sizes and how my children do.

Heaven is attainable only if the Lord choses us to be the recipient of the gift of salvation. But…if heaven is the goal…would we rather be camels or rich men? Even in life…when trials and tribulations come…would we rather struggle through the hills so the mountains don’t seem quite as hard or as high…or would we rather never climb a hill and then have to scale a mountain?

Trials have come my way, in what at times has seemed like one after another this year. There have been times that I barely got over the worst of the pain from one trial before another one hit. I am on the mountain. I must climb it. It’s been a difficult climb and it’s not over yet. But how much harder would it have been if I’d never scaled a hill?

I wrote some time ago about how the Lord places things in our lives to prepare us for the plan He has for us. My childhood prepared me for the road I would walk as an adult. My teen years prepared me for my adult years. My years as a mother prepared me for my years as a grandmother. My years as a young woman prepared me for my years as an old woman… There are probably millions of things in my life…most of which I know nothing of…that have prepared me for something. They were stepping stones that laid the ground for what was or is to come.

The most important groundwork was that which was laid to prepare me for the day the Lord would save me. We are told time and again in Scripture that Christ is the foundation, He is the cornerstone. He is the goal…even when we aren’t the ones laying the foundation or working for the goal.

Because of the foundations that the Lord placed in me…He gave me the goal. And still…the struggles in life are there. Some of those struggles are hills, some are mountains, but struggle we must.

33 These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 NASB)

Being in the world is a struggle…and because we are in the world…we will struggle. But we have Hope in Christ. When the world’s cares take all hope away…there is Christ. There is Hope.

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, 5 who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. (1 Peter 1:3-5 NASB)

We may lose our earthly hope for a little while but if we belong to Christ He will only leave us in that place for so long before He reminds us of Who we belong to. Like a kick in the backside that reminder is enough to pull us back to where He wants us to be. We must struggle, we must hurt, we must face the trials and tribulations, but we must face them not for chance, or just because, but for the purpose that the Lord has made us, so that He may put us where He wants us and so that He can make us what He wants us to be.

6 In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, 7 so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; (1 Peter 1:6-7 NASB)

We have been given Hope beyond measure when we are in Christ. Our salvation is our greatest hope. Christ is our great Hope. Earth and all it’s cares can take away our fleshly hope in this world but our true Hope lies in what has been given to us out of the mercy of our Lord.

I’ve heard many times that if ‘God will bring you to it, He will bring you through it.’ It’s something that I never paid much attention to. But if you really stop and think about it, there’s much truth in that. The Lord will bring us to many things…He will also bring us through them. And when we come out the other side of them…how much richer will we be for the struggle we endured?

Not rich like the rich man, but rich like the camel that struggled long and hard to get through the eye of the needle…painfully, slowly…and when he finally popped out the other side…discovered he was in heaven.

Our trials…tribulations…sorrows…pains…are only for a little while. They are the refining fires that make us who the Lord wants us to be. And in that refining fire…oh, how we change, mature and grow, whether we want to or not.

I have made taffy candy, have watched it made on large scales…when taffy is made you take a substance that is stretchy but firm and twist it, pull it, squeeze it, and start again. Over and over and over you twist and pull this semi-stretchy substance until it changes and becomes soft and pliable. It goes from what it was…to what it is supposed to be.

It is molded. It is changed. It is refined.

Like taffy, we are pushed and pulled, twisted and squeezed by the Lord and His plan until we sometimes feel as if we can’t take another moment of torture but…what the Lord brings us to, He brings us through. And out the other side we emerge…like a butterfly from a cocoon, no longer a caterpillar but a butterfly with beautiful wings…something greater than we were when we started the process.

Because there is a method to the madness. Because when we belong to Christ He won’t allow us to be rich men…we must be camels that struggle to get through the eye of the needle.

I read a book the other day…actually I finished a book the other day, it took a few days to read it…about a little girl whose one desire was to own a Bible. This girl lived in a time and place when Bibles were hard to come by. She worked and longed for a Bible of her own. She walked miles just to read someone else’s Bible. It took her years and years to earn enough money to buy her own Bible and then she had to walk 50 miles to get it. She covered those 50 miles, barefoot, in two days.

We live in a time where Bibles are plentiful and can be had cheaply. I know of a thrift store that gives away Bibles…they won’t charge for them no matter their condition, age or worth. If I walk through my house I could gather enough Bibles provide them to a good number of people.

But that little girl worked long hard hours for years to be able to buy a Bible. Then she walked many, many miles to get one. How much more did that Bible mean to her, when she finally got it, than does the Bible my daughter owns that was given to her at her birth?

How much more precious did the words in the Bible seem to a child that longed to read them for years and had to work hard for that privilege?  

Like the camel struggling through the eye of the needle, that girl struggled for the words of our Lord. She toiled and labored much for the chance to own a copy of what she considered a treasure.

And treasure it she did. The very Bible that young girl worked so hard for was passed on at her death and now lives in a museum. It has survived for hundreds of years.

I have a Bible in my home that is falling apart. I got it that way. It’s a cheap paperback Bible that isn’t all that old, and doesn’t have the look of a Bible that has been read much. Instead of falling apart because it was a much used Bible it appears to be falling apart because it was a much abused Bible. I own it because it serves a purpose that I could never do with an intact Bible. The very fact that it is falling apart has now allowed it to become a much used Bible.

But when I think of the history it most likely had to wind up in the condition it was in when I got it…I am reminded of the little girl that worked so hard, for so many years, to get a Bible of her own. And how she would have treasured a single page from this falling apart Bible.

When things are given to us easily, we generally fail to see the treasure that we hold. Another saying I’ve heard many times…’easy come, easy go.’ Bibles in our country are so easy to be had that most people put little value on any particular Bible. When Bibles were harder to come by people treasured them, they kept family records in them, they gave them places of honor in their homes, and they passed them from generation to generation.

Some of those Bibles had been struggled for, worked for, and highly protected and cared for as a result.

How much greater is the prize…when we finally come through the needle…once we’ve struggled through it?

 

Protecting them

I’ve spent every year of my parenting experience doing the best I can to protect my children from the bad in this world. There were things I didn’t realize were bad early in my parenting days and there were things that I saw as bad that may not have been as bad as I thought they were at the time. Like most parents I did the best I could at each stage of raising each of my children.

Recently I’ve had some conversations with my teenage daughter that has made me wonder if all the protecting was as good as I thought it was. Don’t get me wrong…I don’t regret keeping them safe from the evils of this world, whether those evils were in real life or entertainment.

In the Christian homeschool world there are many different ideas of the right way to raise and educate children. Among ‘Christian’ families there seems to be two big differences though. There are those that believe in protecting their children from everything and those that believe in exposing their children to everything and then discussing those exposures. I always fell into the ‘protect them at all costs’ side.

There’s just something to be said for protecting the innocence of children. I’m not talking about innocence in the Lord’s eyes, that doesn’t exist, I’m talking about innocent to so many of the world’s ways. There are so many evils in this world that they must deal with in one capacity or another eventually, it just seems best to delay that as long as possible.

The trouble with that plan only recently became apparent to me. I still think it’s a good plan, a good idea. Our children need to be protected from all manner of evil. The trouble is…evil lives within their hearts. Sooner or later the desire to fulfill their own interests and longings will rear its head. Not only that but they will one day have to navigate this world on their own. For some children that day comes sooner than it does for others.

As much as I have protected my children from things I didn’t want them exposed to I soon discovered that the world encroached whether I wanted it to or not. Although I must admit that some of that encroachment was my own fault.

My daughters took a liking to fancy, very expensive, jeans after I took them to a ‘church’ building where that kind of jeans were the popular thing…everyone from babies to elderly women were wearing them. Was it any wonder my children wanted them?

The thing I struggle with now is where is the line between our beliefs and their desires? We can’t know ahead of time how something will affect them. I’m strong enough in my faith to be exposed to anything and walk away with my faith intact. I may have scars from what I saw or experienced but my faith will stand fast no matter what I’m exposed to. My children don’t have that.

The faith they have is superficial. It’s a head knowledge, a vocalization. It isn’t soul deep, it doesn’t consume their heart and mind.

And so they are like a leaf blowing in the wind. They may know what kind of leaf they are but what’s to stop them from landing in the pond instead of the yard? What’s to keep them from blowing into the manure pile instead of landing on the porch?

Without the complete and total faith that comes with regeneration…their faith can only keep them so safe. Their hearts long for something they don’t have and so they search for something to fill that longing. It may be hobbies, it may be the entertainment industry, it may even be ‘church’ but the reality is…

Unless Christ fills that void the longing will remain.

Something will consume them whether it’s Christ or things of the world.

I once spoke with someone that told me we can make our children believe what we want them too. This person’s oldest child was seven years old. My oldest was in the teen years. I tried explaining that we can’t force our children to believe. This person didn’t agree. I switched tactics, told them we can make them share our beliefs when they’re little but sooner or latter they must believe on their own. That seemed to sink in but only so far. I truly think that person believed that if we just force our children to believe as we do that we can make them share that belief.

No.

All we can do is make them express belief with their mouths. True belief is from the Lord and He’s the only One that can make them believe.

By the same token we can’t make them hate the sins of this world. All we can do is lay the foundation for telling them that those sins are wrong, why they’re wrong. Then sooner or later we have to get out of the way to let them experience the pain of the world for themselves.

Protecting them can only be taken so far.

No matter how much we may want to spend their lives keeping them from the evil of this world. And keeping the evil far away from them.

I think often of the 1800’s and how life was like in those days. I have a friend that has told me many times of how much she likes the 1800’s. She thinks of the simplicity of that time, of how they lived without all the distractions we live with, of how they were freer to focus on Christ. I can see what she means when she speaks of those times but for me when I think of that time period what I think of is how many of the evils were kept in check. Of how much of society didn’t accept the evil that people in our time accept. Of how nice it would be to be able to walk through town without seeing the majority of everyone’s bodies. Of how nice it would be not to hear so many bad words. Of how nice it would be to see a time when wickedness wasn’t given quite so much freedom.

I know the evil of men’s hearts was there even as it was restrained. I know that awful things happened in those days too. But I also know it was reined in at least a little.

And now…as I continue to have conversations with my teenage daughter…as I continue to see not only our lives but the world through her eyes. I am forced to ask myself how much protecting we can do.

As I grow a tiny baby within my body…I prepare a teenage daughter for the world.

As I think of the innocence this baby has of all the world’s ways…I must wonder if I have given my daughter the tools to face the world.

It’s a fine line that must be walked between keeping the evils from them and preparing them to one day live in those evils.

Have I walked that line?

Or did I fall off one side or the other?

The Bible is boring

I have heard many times in the past that most ‘Christians’ don’t know the Bible. I’ve heard that they don’t know the basics of what Scripture says, that many don’t know the Ten Commandments. The places I heard those things were the same places I heard that most ‘Christian’ kids will abandon their faith in their teens.

For a good number of years I had no understanding of why those things happened and I took them as they were presented by whoever was telling or writing them. Now I understand. Now I know the difference.

Those ‘Christians’ don’t know the basics of Scripture because they aren’t regenerate. Those ‘Christians’ don’t know the Ten Commandments because they don’t have enough interest in what they believe to want to know them. And those ‘Christian’ kids…were just living out what they’d been taught as children until they got old enough to make their own choices at which point they ‘abandoned’ a faith they never felt and went the way of their heart.

I’ve also heard that a lot of ‘Christians’ don’t know enough about what they believe to be able to defend the belief they hold. Somewhere I read that most atheists know more about the Bible, more about God, more about Christ than most ‘Christians’ do.

What does that say for the ‘Christians’?

At face value it doesn’t say much for them. It presents a sorry excuse of what Christianity is to the world. It presents a sad example of what being a follower of Christ is.

But for those that are truly saved…there is a different picture. It’s one where, even without a complete understanding of the Bible, we can defend our beliefs. We can explain what we believe even long before we fully understand just what it is that makes our faith different.

And as we grow and mature in Christ we begin to understand, to learn, to get to the point where we do know exactly what we believe and our faith is unshakable.

I read something recently that said it is a Christian’s duty to be so acquainted with the Word of God and His plan for mankind that when they encounter deceivers they can defend themselves against any false teaching.

How can a ‘Christian’ that finds the Bible boring come to that kind of acquaintance with the Scriptures? How can they be expected too?

They can’t.

Even the most passionate student of the Bible can’t fully understand Scripture until they are saved by Christ and their eyes are opened to the Word, to the Truth, to the mystery.

And he answered them, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given. For to the one who has, more will be given, and he will have an abundance, but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand. Matthew 13:11-13

For I want you to know how great a struggle I have for you and for those at Laodicea and for all who have not seen me face to face, that their hearts may be encouraged, being knit together in love, to reach all the riches of full assurance of understanding and the knowledge of God's mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.  Colossians 2:1-3

To you it has been given to know… Until it is given no one can fully understand the Scriptures. They can read them, memorize them, know the Bible from Genesis to Revelation but until it is ‘given’ to them…they can’t know.

I can remember how I felt when others would tell me I needed to read the Bible and I knew I couldn’t understand it. I remember how my grandmother was a King James only Bible user and I was raised without any knowledge that there were other versions of the Bible. I was grown before I ever encountered anything other than a KJV Bible. I well remember how amazed I was to realize at the age of nineteen that I could read and understand the Bible. At that point I thought it as the version of Bible I had been using that made me unable to understand but long after I had an easier to read version I still found it hard to stick with reading the Bible.

Until the Lord opened my eyes to what was contained within the Scriptures. From that day on I found it fascinating.

When my daughter tells me the Bible is boring my immediate reaction is ‘no, it’s not’. But now I wonder…is that the right response. Just because it’s not boring to me doesn’t mean it isn’t to her. Just because my eyes have been opened, my veil lifted, doesn’t mean hers has.

And as I write this I can’t help thinking of all the ‘Christian’ kids that leave the faith they’ve been raised in. How shamed are they by their families for turning away from a believe they never held? How confused are they because their hearts and minds can no longer hang onto the faith they were raised to believe in?

Those ‘christian’ kids aren’t turning away from being a Christian…they never were one. They may have said the prayer, they may have been raised in ‘church’, may have been baptized but if they turn away they were never a Christian to begin with.

How many times are those kids made to feel like something’s wrong with them because they couldn’t hold onto what they were raised to believe?

My daughter told me…not all that long ago…that she feels as if everything she was raised to believe was a lie. And all because I was once a professing ‘Christian’ and have since been saved by the Lord. Because my eyes were opened and I was able to see the lies in the faith I once followed, in the beliefs I instilled in my children, my daughter thinks it’s all a lie. And it is. But figuring that out shook what faith she did have.

How many other kids are ‘shaken’ as they leave their childhood beliefs behind and follow their hearts into whatever beliefs they hold? How many are made to feel that they are wrong for believing as they do?

How many feel horrible because they have to admit…the Bible is boring?

And what should a Christian say in response to such a statement?

 

The end of the world as we know it

There are days when I find many things to read from other Christians and days when I read nothing. I have been a reader since childhood. It started with children’s chapter books, progressed to romance novels, eventually became only ‘Christian’ romance novels and nonfiction, and now…well I think I’d be safe in saying I am no longer able to find very many books or writings that don’t promote worldly thoughts even among the so-called Christian market.

As I write this post I find myself thinking of the multiple things I read before starting, of the sermons I watched, and I quite honestly don’t know where to start. Recently I wrote a number of posts that tied together through the nature of their topics. Each one stood alone but they all kind of flowed one to another to…I hope…paint a bigger picture than any one of them alone painted.

There is a way of life in America, probably the world, in which people prepare for what they call ‘the end of the world as we know it’. There are probably as many ways of doing that as there are people that do it. I recently saw an article about a family that discovered a hidden bunker in their backyard packed with food and other supplies from years ago.

Someone, at some point, prepared for ‘the end of the world’ as they knew it. They filled an underground room with food and other things they thought they’d need to be able to survive whatever might come.

I have to admit the idea does have some merit. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a room filled with….whatever’s…that could see you through anything that might come. You’d be well supplied should a tornado come your way and wipe out your home. You’d be well supplied should rioting or other civil unrest happen in your area that kept you from going to the store. 

But those things can only prepare you for physical happenings that might come your way in the same way having insurance on your vehicle prepares you for an accident should you have one.

They are a safety net.

They’re there should the ‘end of the world’ as you know it come in this world. They are temporal.

But as I read more and more of what’s happening in the world I can’t help thinking that the end of the world as we knew it is already here. There are so many different issues in the news today that never came up in the news when I was a child. There are so many things happening in our country and the world that have never been seen before.

I recently wrote a post about calling evil good and good evil. That was what I saw as I read articles in Christian sources. At least in the Christian sources the evil is being portrayed as just that. If I had read those same articles in secular writings I’m sure I would have heard just how wonderful the evil was.

One of the things I read this morning, which I didn’t finish reading, spoke of a young woman that used to claim to be a born again Christian that now openly speaks against at least some of the beliefs held by Christians.

Another one was about a television commercial that not only speaks of, but outright shows, homosexual relationships. And it’s done so in a way that makes it look as normal and natural as the wonder of intimacy when it happens in marriage, which I must admit would be wrong to portray on TV.

There is a belief among scientists that says every so many hundreds of years the weather flips. The months that had been summer will become winter and winter will become summer. It will flip. As I understand that belief the only change that occurs is what the weather will be like in any given month. There will be no catastrophe, no widespread change beyond how the weather acts at any given time. Life will go on as it always has only people will need coats when they used to need shorts and they’ll need winter boots when they used to need sandals. It will be a flipping of seasons.

Today we have a flip in life, in long held beliefs, in right and wrong. Our world has…in a good number of ways…flipped upside down. What once was right is now wrong and what once was up is now down.

Someone close to me recently said ‘I just want to be a good person’. I had to ask what exactly that meant to them. What is a good person? They flipped the question on me and asked me what I believe a good person is.

My answer had two sides. I told them that Biblically there is no good person, that we are all sinners, that the only way a person becomes a ‘good person’ is to be saved by Christ. But I knew what they were looking for and so I gave them the answer they were seeking in addition to the first one. I told this person that strictly from a worldly perspective I’d have to say that a good person is someone that doesn’t hurt other people, someone that thinks of others, someone that stands for what is truly right and wrong.

And as that conversation progressed we also got into what defines right and wrong. If we accept that the Bible is the infallible Word of God, if we accept what it says at face value, if we understand that there are certain rules set forth in the Bible then we have a written record of what is right and wrong. We have a measuring stick.

Recently my husband, in jest I hope, asked me if I was measuring him. I told him I never measure him but if I did he would come out well past the end of the ruler. I don’t measure him but I do see how he measures up. I see in Scripture what it says a Christian is to be and I see those qualities in him. The reason I can so clearly see those qualities in my husband is because 1) the Lord has saved him, and 2) because my husband believes the Bible sets the standard for what is right and wrong and he tries to live according to those standards.

There’s a Christian man that has a video program where he goes out and questions people on the street, he gets their views on things, he challenges them, and he tells them the truth according to Scripture. I don’t watch him very often but I have seen it enough times to hear some of what the people he talks to says. I must admit that until I watched his program I had no idea that anyone held such beliefs. It is basically a belief in nothing. As some of the people he spoke with said… if you believe it’s right then it’s right for you, and if I believe this is right then it’s right for me but they held the exact same idea on what constituted wrong. Most of them had no measuring stick by which to decide what was right and wrong. They had no line on which one side was right and one side was wrong. It was more like some kind of swirling area where right and wrong were all mixed up and each person just chose what they saw as right and wrong.

According to the people that this man spoke with anything could be right or wrong depending on the person. You were free to decide what was right for you and what was wrong. There were no absolutes. No certainties.

What…I ask…about murder? Is a person free to decide if murder is right for them? Apparently so. All we have to do is look to the murder of unborn babies to see that murder is allowed and condoned, to see that it is a personal choice as to whether or not murder is right or wrong.

I read something a while back about a ten year old girl in a predominantly Catholic country that is pregnant. Her country does not allow abortions except for a few very clear reasons, I think if the life of the mother is in danger, and this little girl does not fit the definition to be allowed to have an abortion. From what that article said people from all over the world, especially America, are having fits because this little girl is being denied the opportunity to kill her child.

I had two thoughts on that part of the story. The first one was that people thought they had the right to demand a country do anything, especially a country in which they do not live. The other was to wonder if the little girl even wanted an abortion. She is a child that has been raised in a country where abortion is seen as wrong…does she believe it is? She’s also a little girl at an age where most little girls love babies…would she want to kill her own?

This little girl conceived under evil circumstances, the act that resulted in the life of her child wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t about love, but I still have to question if a child living in a country where abortion is seen as wrong would want to kill her own child or if someone is demanding this little girl be given an abortion because they think her having the baby would be bad for her.

Who is deciding what is right and wrong for that little girl and her baby?

That is just one case in a world of many where a list of circumstances can be given and a decision come to. Many couples put off starting a family until circumstances are just right for having children…but who decides what is just right for having children. If a couple has decided not to have a child until they have so much money in the bank or own a minivan or have a house with so many square feet and they discover they’re expecting a baby…who decides if it’s right or wrong for that child to live?

My grandmother is living in a nursing home. She’s got afflictions that affect the elderly. She can’t care for herself. The law in America protects her right to live. But what if those laws weren’t there? Who would decide if she had the right to live? Who would decide if murdering her because she’s too old to be able to care for herself is okay?

In cities across America dogs and cats are killed every day because someone decided they weren’t worth saving. Some of them are vicious and aggressive, some of them so sick or injured that saving them is impossible or nearly so and it can be understood why the decision would be made to kill them. But others are killed because they’re ugly, because they’ve been in the shelter more than their allotted two weeks, week, three days. The choice of whether it’s right or wrong to kill those animals rests in the hands of the people that are in charge of them.

What if our country looked at human life the same way? Well…many people may argue that there’s an over population of dogs and cats…many people argue the same thing about people.

I’ve had strangers ask me why I would ever want to have so many children. I’ve heard people speak badly of couples that have lots of children because they say we’re ruining the earth.

When does murder become right and when does it become wrong?

There are countries where euthanasia is legal. It’s been proposed in America. Some people believe that anyone that requires full time care, lives in a nursing home, or lives with chronic pain should be euthanized for their own good.

There are people that have suggested that ‘abortion’ be legalized through the age of four. That is…some say a parent should have the right to ‘abort’ their child until they’re four years old. We’re talking about a living, breathing, walking, talking child here. There’s no way a person could not realize that this child was a live person and yet there are those that believe it should be okay to ‘abort’ them at the parent’s discretion.

In a news article I read not that long ago how once our medical care is put into the hands of computers the right to life will transfer to whether or not the computer thinks we should live. A couple of years ago our local hospital was bought out by a nationwide hospital company. The new company immediately started changing what was, at that time, one of the best hospitals in our local area. They immediately began building a newer, bigger hospital. Was it better? I have no idea because I’ve only had to go there once and they weren’t able to handle the issue that took us to the hospital…they sent us by ambulance to a children’s hospital in a large city.  The thing is that as they built and began using this ‘better’ hospital they also instituted some things our area had never seen before. The biggest that I know of is the use of robots to perform surgery.

When I first heard that I was very much against the idea. My opinion on that hasn’t changed in the last couple of years. My sister told me how much better it would be because robots have steady hands, they can be programed to act in certain ways and they won’t deviate from what they’re told to do.

And in light of what’s come out lately that idea only solidifies my opinion that I don’t want a robot operating on me or one of my loved ones. Recently a computerized car was hacked. What would happen if the robot performing surgery was hacked? Or worse? I heard a news reporter speak about how once our medical care is placed into the hands of computers it would be only too easy to program a computer to save only certain people. This man also said it would be easy to tell a computer not to treat certain conditions.

There’s been talk of microchipping people. Some of that talk has said that with a microchip in a person’s brain their life would then rest in the hands of the people controlling the microchip.

In essence our lives would rest in the hands of the government.

Now…let me say that all of what I’ve just said has come from what I’ve heard from news media’s. I can’t vouch for the truth in any of it beyond saying that I heard it from a news source. What I can say is that it’s all feasible. Whether or not something is being planned or put into practice…it’s certainly within the realm of possibility given all the technology we have today.

But right or wrong…it’s just another example of the end of the world as we’ve always known it. The very fact that those things are possible and are something we can even think of means the world our parents and grandparents knew is gone.

And all of those things…if not held to a higher power of right and wrong…can become reality based on the beliefs of one or more people in a position to implement them.

There have been many mass shootings in America in recent years. With every one of them the public has cried out. They’ve protested the killing of people by one person (or two or three…). They’ve spoken of the evil of those shootings and demanded the punishment of the shooter.

But when man decides for himself what is right and what is wrong…who is to decide if those shooting are right or wrong?

In those cases the shooter believed that killing those people was the right thing to do. Let’s say they killed seven people. In their minds they had a very good reason for killing those seven people. Murder…to them…was right. If we look at a woman that has had seven abortions the world won’t cry out in protest over the death of her seven babies. It won’t demand she be punished for killing them. But what is the difference? In her mind killing those babies was the right thing to do. In her mind she had a good reason, a justifiable reason, for murdering her children. Yet…she walks away without even having to explain her reasoning.

If a mother of seven kills all of her living children…she’s a murderer and the public, rightfully, calls it murder and demands her punishment. But what is the difference?

Why is it murder to kill seven children that have been born, to kill seven people in any setting, but it’s not murder to kill seven unborn babies?

Another recent event that has gained the public’s attention, and the outcry to do something about it, is the very real, very sad, case of a large abortion company that sold baby parts to different companies after killing the unborn babies. The doctors in these clinics not only sold the parts but were very careful in how they killed the babies in order to preserve the parts they needed.

If that’s not evil I don’t know what is.

And yet…in our modern society what makes that wrong? Why is it that the mothers of those children can kill their babies without the public saying a thing but when this large company sells parts of those babies it’s all of a sudden a horrible things and the public is demanding something be done about it?

Again…let’s say there are seven women that walk into one of those clinics and have their unborn baby killed. Our society says that’s okay. If the doctor, the clinic, then sells any part of that baby our same society cries out in protest of how wrong it is. What makes the selling of dead babies any worse than the murder of them?

If that mother of seven children killed her living children and sold their organs…she’d be prosecuted on numerous charges. If another woman kills seven of her unborn babies it’s okay, overlooked, and not questioned. The woman that had seven abortions could teach children in schools, sit in public office, run for president or preside over the case of the next criminal walking into the courtroom.

Think about that for just a minute…a female judge could legally kill seven (or any number) of her unborn children then be the sole person to decide if someone that killed their child or children spends the rest of their life in prison.

Why?

Why is the murder of one set of babies legal while the killing of another set is legal?

Who decides the right and wrong of those situations? The law says one’s legal while the other’s illegal but why? And who made that choice? The people that instituted those laws were mere people. Not only that but they were people that didn’t look to a higher power to determine right and wrong. Their own ideas were what they based right and wrong on.

As a result…we have murderers in prison. And just as many, if not more, murderers walking the street.

Your child’s teacher may be a legal murderer. Your doctor may be. Your best friend could be.

What defines right and wrong when there is nothing to measure right and wrong by?

Whether we’re discussing little issues or big…there must be a standard for which we determine right and wrong.

The argument could be made that murder is wrong when the law says its murder but then the question must be asked… whose law? Why is it wrong when murder happens against those protected by the laws of our country but its okay when it happens to those that don’t have those protections?

And that’s just one subject in a long line of things that must have a definition of right and wrong. Is it wrong to steal? To cheat on your spouse? To sell your children for money? To use drugs? To sell drugs? To say something against another person? To beat them up? To be intimately involved with someone before marriage?

Where is the line in right and wrong?

Who defines what is right and what is wrong?

Who makes the decision of what any one person will stand for? There was a time in our country when a person’s last name was seen as very important. You upheld your family name, you did your family proud or dishonored your family based on how you acted and believed. A man passed his name on to his children. Men wanted son’s to carry on the family name. A person, especially a man, stood for his family because he wore the family name.

That wasn’t the only way he stood for his family. He stood for them by being the husband, the dad, the provider. He was the line of defense between them and any threat that came their way. He stood for his family in so many ways but even an unmarried man stood for the family name.

For many years Americans have stood for America, many still do. It can be seen on t-shirts and bumper stickers. It can be seen in the number of American flags flown in our country. I was sitting in a restaurant not too long ago when it began pouring rain. Minutes after the rain started workers went out, took down the American flag and brought it inside. Not only did they stop everything to go out in pouring rain and get the flag but they took the time, outside in the rain, to roll up the flag.

I’m not giving my opinion, one way or the other on that, but pointing out that there are people in America that stand for America and go to great lengths to support what they see as America.

I’m sure some of the same people that stand for and support America at all costs are the some of the same people that support abortion and hold to the belief that a person decides what is right and wrong for them.

Now I must ask…who or what defines what America is? How do we know where America ends and Mexico or Canada begins? We know because someone drew a line and declared this side to be America and that side to be Canada (or Mexico). And that line is upheld. Whether it’s crossed or not everyone understands that on one side of the line is America and on the other side is another country.

My sister and her family live in an apartment. Everyone understands that the wall that separates the two apartments marks the line between her apartment and the neighbors. If people were given the same rights in an apartment that they claim to have in life then my sister or her husband could knock out the wall separating their apartment from the one next to them simply because they believed their apartment was too small and they wanted more space. The line that says this is their apartment and that is the neighbors could be erased, removed, based on their own beliefs.

Funny thing about all that…if I want to go to Canada or Mexico I must pass the line between the two countries and I must have proper identification, given by America and accepted by the government that I want to go to, that gives me the right to cross the line between the two countries. It is wrong, illegal, for me to cross the line without that permission. If I did so I would face consequences based on the laws of both countries. If I held the belief that all land belongs to God and therefore I should be able to go where I want to when I want to without having to get permission from a certain country, or countries, I would face the very real consequences of crossing a line that was drawn, literally in the dirt, and declared to be the right place for me to be and the wrong place for me to be.

If my sister decides that she wants her apartment to be bigger and knocks the wall down dividing her apartment from the neighbors not only will she be thrown out of her home but she’ll most likely be arrested, fined, and who knows what else. And all because she crossed a line between right and wrong. Not a line that she believed to be right or wrong but a line that someone else set the standard for.

And yet…day after day, news article after news article, person after person, right and wrong is defined as being in the eye of the beholder. So many people today believe that anyone can decide, at any time, what is right and wrong for them. There’s no higher standard to decide where the line is. What may be right for me may be wrong for you. And so you are free to decide what is right for you while I decide what is right for me.

Based off that belief…no parent has the right to teach their children what they can and cannot do. No parent has the right to tell their child that they can’t do something. Because what may be right for mom or dad may not be right for Jr. or Susie. What may be right for son may not be right for daughter. What may be right for big sister may not be right for little sister.

Does any of that make sense?

What if a person believes it’s wrong for a business to charge for the products they carry? Does that make it wrong? Are they then required to give them the items they want free of charge because that person thinks it’s wrong to be charged for them?

If everyone is free to decide right and wrong for themselves what would make that belief wrong?

What if a person believes it’s wrong to tag their vehicle?

Who gets to decide that they have to do it anyway?

Today marriage is rapidly being redefined until it will soon bear little resemblance to marriage as defined by the Bible. California has passed a law making the use of the words husband and wife illegal. No longer are women in California married to their husband, they now simply have a spouse. I’ve seen where it’s being proposed to make that a nationwide law.

But if each person gets to decide what is right and wrong for themselves…can a woman still claim her husband as her husband in California…even on state documents… if she wants to? Or will she face legal consequences for doing so? If she’s filling out a state form and it lists spouse can she cross out the word spouse and write husband without worry of legal ramifications? Or has the line been drawn that she isn’t allowed to cross?

We are at a point in history that is making strides in directions that our country has never before seen. We are at a point where right and wrong are quickly being erased. We are at a point where a person that holds a belief in right and wrong as right and wrong are being labeled as wrong…does that seem right?

We are at a point where there is no line to right and wrong except the line that certain people want drawn at certain times. It’s showing up in all manner of society. Because what is right and wrong has become so mixed up that it’s nearly impossible to find.

Because what is seen as right and wrong has flipped. Where people, our country, once had a set standard for what was right and wrong, now they have themselves. And ‘themselves’ get to decide where the line is. It doesn’t matter if their line and mine are in different places, it doesn’t matter if I see one thing as wrong if they see it as right. It doesn’t matter if the law says something is wrong if they don’t like it they can change it.

What was up is now down and what was down is now up…and our society reflects the flip that has taken place.

I watched a short video clip a while back where a group of teenage/20 something girls were questioned on what they thought and believed on a certain subject. They all professed to be ‘Christians’. Their answers were disturbing because everything they said went against the Bible they claimed to believe in but what was even more disturbing to me was the complete lack of common sense.

When I was growing up I heard many times about how so-and-so had book smarts or how they had street smarts. There were those that might be very educated but they had no knowledge of how to survive ‘on the street’ or they had street smarts but might fail every written test they might be given. Taking Spanish class was the same way. You might spend years in a Spanish class but what you learned ‘by the book’ wasn’t usually transferable to the street. You could learn enough from the book to barely get by but there will be much of the actual language that they can’t speak.

That group of girls could spit out all sorts of beliefs, they might be able to survive in today’s world because they hold to a worldly belief despite their claims of ‘Christianity’ but they lacked common sense. Some of the things they said simply made no sense.

The people questioning those girls didn’t ask them what they thought on who or what defined right and wrong. I’d be surprised if they those girls didn’t hold some sort of belief that the individual is who defines right and wrong though. Despite their profession of ‘Christianity’ those girls held beliefs that were very anti-Christian.

It’s another example of society flipping. Can you imagine anyone two, three hundred years ago standing there claiming to be a Christian and speaking against something the Bible clearly speaks against?

I can’t imagine them standing there displaying the lack of common sense those girls did much less publicly speaking out for something that was morally and Biblically wrong in those days.

What is seen as right and wrong has flipped and it hasn’t been for the good of our society. It hasn’t been for the good of any individual and it sure isn’t good for Christians.

Right now in our country all a person needs to do is turn to any news outlet to see all the changes that have taken place. For the first time in history marriage is no longer defined as being between a man and a woman, a person is no longer born with their gender set but can choose what gender they are, murder of babies happens by the thousands every day, selling those babies is something some see nothing wrong with, the shooting of one person can be blamed on an inanimate object…and the list goes on.

I think it’s safe to say that the end of the world as we know it has arrived.

And it didn’t take a catastrophe. It didn’t take a worldwide disaster. It didn’t take a nationwide disaster. It didn’t take a disaster at all. Nor did it take a mass riot, a nuclear war, a world war, or any other physical occurrence.

It simply took the transfer of who decides what is right and wrong from the hands of God and placed it in the hands of evil men.

 

 

 

Our children watch

I recently wrote about how our lives are a story being written in the book of our life and how those stories create the people that our children become (titled ‘The book we’re writing’). When I sat down to write that I had an idea of what I wanted to write and discovered that my thoughts went in sort of the right direction but that they took a turn I hadn’t even thought of. Because that happened I wish to write once again on the same topic but with the purpose of writing what I intended to write last time.

Funny how as I write sometimes I write exactly what I intended to, sometimes I had no thought in mind and I watch as the words take shape on the computer, and sometimes everything I planned to write gets pushed aside to write something I hadn’t even thought of.

When I sat down to write that last post I wanted to write about books…I did that…but I had a different point I wanted to make.

You see, I own many books, some I read and some I know I will never read again. My children have more books than I’d ever want to count. Those books have played a role in our lives and may continue to play a role in them.

The most valuable book I own is the Bible…and I own many of those. Within the pages of the Bible is not only the story of the world, not only the story of my Lord, not only the story of God’s people, but within those pages is the story of me. It holds the story of my family, the story of my marriage, the story of my children. We may not be mentioned by name but we are mentioned nonetheless. We are there in the pages, there in the words spoken and written.

It is within the pages of that Book that I find the meaning for my life, I find the reason for my life being written the way it was.

But it isn’t to that Book that my thoughts want to turn to today. As important as it is…my thoughts want to turn to the shelves of children’s book we have in our home. I think of the stories on the pages of those books. I think of the toddler books with the short sentences and intriguing pictures, I think of the chapter books with the ability to captivate my children.

And as I think of those books I also think of my children. A while back I wrote what I titled ‘Raising souls’. In it I spoke of how it took me many children and lots of years to realize that I’m not just raising little people that carry my heart with them everywhere they go but that I’m raising souls for the Lord. No matter what their eventual place with Christ is…they are souls with a purpose designed by the Lord. They have a purpose to fulfill. What that purpose is I may never know but they have one.

And it’s here in this writing and in my thoughts and heart where the words I wrote in ‘The book we’re writing’ and the words I wrote in ‘Raising souls’ meet and converge. It’s in my thoughts and here in my words as I write where those two different ideas come together to form one.

You see as I think of those many children’s books we have in our possession I think of the story my children see and learn from with each book. And then I think of the souls that my children are, the foundation that is laid in their lives with everything they do, with everything they encounter, and those thoughts become the foundation for much bigger thoughts that flow through my mind and heart.

You see we tend to see movies and books as being stories we see and listen to. Whether we like them or not we all know that those things are stories. Even the true stories are labeled as ‘stories’.

My grandmother spent many hours telling me about her life. They were the stories of my grandmother’s life. She told me stories about her parents and siblings. She told me about my mother when she was a child. She told me about life during the depression.

She told me stories of her life that transported me into the world as my grandmother knew it.

As a child I used to ask my grandpa to tell me about how he moved cross country in a covered wagon. That story fascinated me. My grandpa wasn’t a good story teller. He never made it sound like a story, never embellished it, never made it exciting or adventurous, he simply told me the facts and those facts were more than enough to captivate me with the story of how grandpa traveled in a covered wagon.

Now my children ask me to tell them stories of my childhood, they ask me to tell them stories of when they were little. Last night at midnight I was up with my five year old and for whatever reason I told him that when I was a girl we didn’t have computers, cell phones, ereaders… His little eyes grew huge and the shock on his face was clear to see.

My grandparents took me to times that I couldn’t really imagine as they told me the stories of their lives….and I took my son to the same kind of time. He’s never known life without computers, cell phones, and the many other modern technologies. He knows how to do things with electronics that I didn’t learn until I was grown.

The stories of our lives hold as much interest for our children as do the stories written in the pages of books. When my oldest was little I discovered a good amount of the history of my ancestors…enough to know who they were and where they came from all the way back to 1700. Because I knew that when my daughter would ask for a story I would tell her the story of our family. She loved it and asked me to tell her that story over and over. So much so that I eventually wrote it down in a way that she could understand and had it bound into a book that she could hold and read for herself. She spent many hours reading that book.

Within its pages was 11 generations of our family’s stories. They were short, giving only basic details…in most cases because basic details were all I knew...but she didn’t care. She was simply captivated and amazed by what wasn’t even a well written story. I didn’t need to write it in the perfect style required by publishers, I didn’t need to meet the expectations of my reader, because my targeted audience was so fascinated with the story I was writing that she willingly overlooked the bad writing.

Our children are fascinated by our lives. They watch the story of our lives unfold before them whether we realize it or not. I’ve heard many times that we shouldn’t tell our children to live one way while we’re in the midst of living another way, that actions speak louder than words, that they’ll follow what they see us doing and not what they hear us saying.

We are living out before them a story that they read every single day. It is a story that is more powerful than any they will ever read in a book, it is a story that will shape and mold who they are, it is a story they will remember long after we are no longer with them.

They may or may not choose to emulate the story they watch us live but it is a story that shapes their ideas and personalities nonetheless.

It’s said that girls base their ideas of how a man should treat them based on how they watch their dad treat their mother. Those are the expectations that our daughters will take with them into their future and into their marriages. They will get those expectations from the pages of the story their parents live out before them.

Our son’s will learn how to treat women, how to treat their future wives and children, based off how they see their dad treat their mother and siblings.

Years ago we had neighbors where the husband was abusive toward his wife. This couple had four children, two girls and two boys. When we met them their children ranged in age from about 4 to about 10. Their oldest daughter used to ride her bike up and down the road a good deal of the time she was home. She began to stop in front of our house and just watch us. She didn’t seem to want to come into the yard, didn’t speak to us at first. She just sat and watched us as we came and went. We would speak to her but in the beginning she said little more than hi to us. In time she came into the yard. It wasn’t long after that before she was a regular in our home. She spent the night, she went to town with us, she went to theme parks with us. Most nights she ate dinner with us.

Her younger sister would come with her from time to time but this little girl came pretty much every day and she stayed all day. It took a while before we understood what was happening. Home wasn’t a safe place for her and so she found somewhere that was safe. In time her mother admitted what was going on at home, told us of how her husband beat her on a regular basis.

This little girl watched the story of her parents being unfolded before her and it was, for her, a story of fear and anger. From the road she would sit and watch our family, hardly speaking to us, she watched our story and eventually chose to become a part of it...so much so that it was almost as if she was one of our own.

This little girl was the oldest of the four children in her family. Her sister would sometimes come to our house and in time her brothers did too. This little girl seemed to seek the kind of family we had, the kind of life that we had. She would play baby dolls for hours, she played with our infant daughter as if she was her baby. Her sister, when she came, had no interest in playing, instead she wanted to go through everything, she pulled all the books off the bookshelf saying that she wanted to organize it but never did anything more than make a huge mess before leaving, she emptied toy boxes for the same reason and never did anything more than leave the mess behind.

In those two girls was such a difference in what they were seeking, in how they were dealing with the stress of what the story in their home was. One craved not just the normal but nurturing, the other created chaos.

And the boys…they had learned at their daddy’s knee. They were mean and aggressive to the girls. Expressions often rested on their little faces that should never have been there. Even though they were younger than their sisters it was clear to see that their opinions of their sisters mirrored their dad’s attitudes toward their mother. And it wasn’t just their sisters that received this treatment. Our girls received it, the other girls in the neighborhood received it. I received it. The boys kept it in check with me and other teenage and adult females…they were only 4 and 6 at the time…but it was unleashed toward younger girls.

These children had been affected…influenced…by the story they saw being written between their parents.

They aren’t the only children that I have seen this effect in. They aren’t the only children that sought the safety of our home when theirs wasn’t a safe or good place to be. I have a sister that is much younger than I am. So much so that she was in her mid-teen years when I was raising children. She’s so much younger than I am that she’s closer to my oldest child’s age than my own. This sister spent a good deal of time in our home, even living with us. I was more of a second mother to her than a sister. When she was about 16 she had a boyfriend that loved to come to our house. He would come to see her and he would stay all day or as long as we would let him…there were days he had to be told that it was late and we needed to go to bed. Each time he left he did so reluctantly.

In time he admitted to us that his mother and sister were both alcoholics and that there was rarely any food in his house. He admitted to living on crackers and only had them because he bought them himself and kept them hidden so he’d have them.

In all his time at our house he found his place among us. He became something of a big brother to the children, he helped with things around the house the best way he could.

Eventually he and my sister split up. Long after the end of their relationship we saw this boy in town and he admitted to driving past our house on a regular basis just to see it and know that we were still there.

This teenage boy was a product of the story that his mother, his only parent, and his sister wrote for him. Tragically, not long after he told us how he would drive by just to see our house and maybe catch a glimpse of us, he was killed in a car accident. The accident happened about a year after he and my sister split up. The cause of the accident was his own choices. He was driving drunk, crossed the line and hit a diesel head on.

That boy left a mark on my life as I left one on his. His home life was such that he sought the security, the love, the normalness of our home long after he no longer visited us. When I learned of his death I was shocked. Not so much because it happened but because I remembered having him in our home, remembered the impact we had on his life. For a little while he watched a different story unfold and it was one he longed for until the night he died.

I’ve thought many times of that boy. Thought of how he missed something vital in his life to the point that when he found it in our home he longed for it. I’ve thought of how that boy, so close to being a man, knew that kind of life only for the short time he was at our home.

Now as I think of him, as I think of the choices he made that cost him his life. I see it from two sides…the earthly and the spiritual. I can look at that boy’s life through the faith I hold and know that his time on earth had come to an end, his choices were only the method the Lord used to end his days on earth. He had fulfilled the purpose the Lord had for him. His days had reached their end.

 But I can see it from the earthly also…I can see how the life his family lived affected him. I can see how their choices taught him to live in a way that resulted in the final choices he made that last night of his life. I can see how the story his family lived out before him set the foundation for what he became not only that last night but also during the time he was seeking something from us that he wasn’t getting at home. I can see how the story of his life, how the story he saw written before him on a daily basis played a major role in setting the foundation for the choices he wound up making. This was the life he was placed in, it was where the Lord put him. The story his family lived out before him set the tone for his short life.

And he watched the story from the day he was born.

They say the first three years of a child’s life are their formative years. Ideas and personality will be settled in them in those first years that will last the rest of their life. As a mother I have watched my children grow through those formative years. ‘They’ may be right about those first three years but all of childhood is formative years. They are little sponges that observe and learn based on what they see and experience. They watch the story of their parent’s life and follow the path they see set out before them.

I’m not saying that if real Christian parents live out Scripture before them that those children will be saved because they saw it. Only the Lord can save them and he will do so or not according to His will. Even the story that our children see before them are used for the Lord’s purposes…whatever they may be.

I don’t know why it was that for a while we were the safe place for our neighbor’s daughter. I don’t know what purpose there was in that. Was she in our lives so she could be an influence to us or so we could influence her? I’ll never know.

I don’t know why my sister’s boyfriend not only passed through our life but became so attached to us. Was it for his good, to help in the purpose of his life, or was it for ours? Was he there to teach us something or were we there to help him in the purpose that was soon to be fulfilled in his life? I’ll never know.

All I know is that, as I look back on the lives of those two young people who found security and love within the walls of our home, they were there for a reason. For a time they were placed in our life. And then they were taken out of our life. Our time in each others stories had come to an end. One chapter ended and a new one began. But for that time we were written into the story of each other’s lives. And the impact we made on each other was long lasting.

Our children watch our story unfold and get lived out the same way those two children watched their parents stories. Our children are effected by the way we live our life, by the things we do, by the things we believe, by the things we talk about, by how we interact with them.

As our children begin stories of their own, when they are still major characters in the daily life of our own story, they will take with them the memories and influence of the story we lived out before them. No matter how they eventually live out their own story they will always carry ours with them.

What story are we writing on the hearts, minds, and lives of our children?