Come and See (How to Enjoy Sharing Jesus)

September 16, 2016September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 11 Comments

“How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?” (John 4:9)

His request for water was unexpected. She could have walked away.

But she didn’t.

Whether it was curiosity, the Spirit’s working or both, she stayed to talk.

And Jesus started drawing her into the truth. She didn’t understand all the talk of living water, but she kept listening, eventually asking for the water that would allow her to cross off “draw water” from her to-do list each day.

And then Jesus zoomed into her soul. “Go, call your husband, and come here.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true.” (John 4:16-18)

She could have denied what Jesus revealed about her life of multiple husbands and current sexual sin, but she stayed in the conversation, saying that Jesus must be a prophet.

So Jesus kept pouring the truth into her, about the Father seeking people to worship Him in spirit and truth, which led her to bring up the Messiah. Only then, did Jesus reveal Himself as the Messiah, the One who was to come.

When the disciples returned to Jesus, their looks showed that they didn’t understand why he would be talking to this woman.

But it didn’t stop her.

“So the woman left her water jar and went away into town and said to the people, “Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?”’ (John 4:28-29)

Other Samaritans came to see the man the woman was talking about and believed “because of the woman’s testimony.” (vs.39) Jesus stayed two days and kept speaking the truth.

They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is indeed the Savior of the world.” (John 4:42)

Joy vs. Guilt

Does the command to “make disciples” ever feel more like a burden than a joy?

Do guilt and condemnation creep in when an opportunity is missed, or when you wish you’d responded differently to someone?

Does it feel like when you do take time to pour into someone, the living water seems to evaporate before it reaches their heart?

I have felt validated when people respond positively to a truth I share. I have also let disappointments grow into feelings of insignificance and self-pity when the response I hoped for didn’t happen.

Lately, the Father has lovingly lifted my eyes to a different focus.

Maybe the Samaritan woman struggled with these feelings, but her actions showed her faith. She wasn’t focusing on whether people would believe her. She just had to share, which caused many of her townsfolk to find out more from Jesus Himself.

The first two words from the woman to the people have echoed through my head as I struggle with wanting people to know and grow in the gospel.

Come, see.

God uses so many different ways for His kingdom to come and His truth to be revealed. The results I imagine might be incredibly different than how the Spirit wants to work in people’s lives and in my own life.

But how do I know if I’m doing it right? What if I miss opportunities and don’t know if I’m being a “good and faithful servant?” (Or wishing I’d spent a few more minutes talking to the Jehovah’s Witnesses who came to my door.)

Nancy Guthrie, in her chapter in Word-Filled Women’s Ministry explained The Parable of the Talents this way:

“We don’t need to fear that we haven’t done enough. (Don’t we, as women, regularly tend to think we haven’t done enough or that we simply aren’t enough?) The real danger being drawn for us in this parable is not the danger of not doing enough for the Master. The two faithful servants receive different amounts and come up with different amounts in the end, and they are both rewarded with exactly the same praise from the Master.

The real danger threatens those who do nothing with what has been entrusted to them, those for whom there is zero return—no response of faith to the gospel, no treasuring the Master, no fruit of the Spirit, no return for the Master’s kingdom—nothing. That’s the point of the third servant, who did nothing with his gift. Because he did nothing, he did not just lose his reward; he lost his life.” (239)

When I’m continuing to let my focus be on treasuring Christ, it will be His love flowing through me onto others, whether they choose to receive it or not.

His kingdom is coming. And I get to be a part of it.

And so do you.

When You’re Hungry For Accomplishment

August 27, 2016September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 14 Comments

Sometimes the Spirit brings a face to my mind during the day—the man who broke his leg, the girl going off to college for the first time, the family packing to spend another term overseas.

Other times, the person is right in front of me, quietly sharing a need (or shouting it at the top of their lungs if they are under 3 feet tall).

I often respond to a little people need without giving it much thought.

Or I’ll spend a moment praying for the person God brought to mind, and possibly shoot them a text.

But other times, when caring about someone takes more time than I’d planned—a phone conversation, a time of instruction and discipline, or trying everything from celery to teething rings to calm a fussy baby–I find myself wanting to argue with God.

It’s as if the Father is saying, “My daughter, will you do this for me?”

And I respond, “But Father, look at all these other good things that I’d like to do for you. Can’t you just change my circumstances so that I can do them instead? What happened to serving from my gifts or trying to work efficiently and effectively?”

If I’m lucky, the Spirit’s truth gently pushes through my other thoughts with something like, “Who’s in charge over every scrap of the universe anyway? Who works all things together for your benefit and my glorious before-time-began rescue plan? Who gives people the gift of faith and draws them through life until their sure hope becomes a reality on my eternal New Earth?”

Pretty much all I can say to that is, “Oh. Right.”

Otherwise, I just keep trying to work hard in my own strength, forgetting the beauty of the gospel and the God who ordained it.

I forget what success means in His kingdom as I snatch at significance and results I can measure on this earth.

I forget the importance of taking time to enjoy Jesus and letting His Word change my thoughts that stubbornly want to keep slogging through the same trenches of worldly success.

I look to my accomplishments to bring the satisfaction that only Jesus can.

Instead, I need saints of old like Charles Spurgeon to remind me of truths like, “Remember this: had any other condition been better for you than the one in which you are, Divine Love would have put you there.”

Send Them

At our conference of Mennonite churches this year, the speaker and his wife shared stories of what God is doing in churches all around the world. They encouraged us to echo the words of the prophet Isaiah, “Here I am. Send me.”

But they also shared the story from the book of Acts, about Cornelius going to the home of the apostle Peter, and bringing Peter back to his family to share the good news of the gospel. God didn’t just send Peter out to preach the good news. He sent people to Peter (Acts 10).

The theme of the conference was Discipleship, and the speaker challenged us to not only say, “Here I am. Send me,” but also, “Here I am. Send them (to me.)”

As my heart continues to struggle with desiring earthly recognition and success, here are two things that the Spirit has used to refocus my mind on His perspective.

Asking God to help me recognize who He is sending to me.

I often have my own ideas about who I want God to send me—people ready to ask, “Can you show me how to surrender my life to Jesus?” I need to be reminded that when Jesus was on earth, He met people’s needs, sharing the truth as He listened and loved.

Asking God who He wants to love through me today.

When I’m concerned with the tasks I think God wants me to do for Him, my work can feel like one long to-do list. Joy dissolves, and people are added to the list of laundry, meals, and diapers.

But when I take time to receive the Father’s love and ask for His love to flow through me onto others, it takes the pressure off having something tangible to show for my time. It allows me to relax and enjoy the reflections of His image all around me.

When the work becomes all about people, the household tasks and life details become a way to love my family and those He’s placed in my life.

Surrendered Goals

So what do I do with my goals and dreams?

First, as my mentor Natalie reminded me, I need to recognize that what I think is hunger for accomplishment really is hunger for God.

When I’m concerned with trusting God in what He wants to do through me, rather than focusing on pleasing God through my actions, it opens the way for God to graciously change my motives.

Maybe I won’t have the chance to publish a novel while my kids are still young.

But as I was reminded by Betsy Childs Howard in her talk on Walking By Faith When Dreams Are Delayed, God hasn’t given us the grace to face everything that could happen in the future. He gives grace for today.

And today, it’s okay that the potty training, grocery list, nursing, and time to email a friend filled up the 24 hour slot of today, rather than my writing.

Who has the Spirit placed right in front of you to share His love?

What circumstance is He inviting you to receive today as part of His gracious plan?

When Your Husband’s Desires Don’t Match Your Own

Image ~ January 29, 2016September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 11 Comments

I recently pulled out the workbook Christopher and I used during our pre-marital counseling six years ago.

The section that caught my eye dealt with the ideas each of us had for our new life together.

How would the housework be divided?

Who would pay the bills?

How many children did we want to have?

How would we discipline them?

How much time would we spend in the bedroom together?

While we laughed again about Christopher’s “the more the merrier” answer to how many children we would have (which wasn’t so funny when I thought he was serious), it made me realize how our desires are constantly changing and how dangerous it can be not to address them.

Sometimes I’ve felt frustrated with myself for having expectations at all, pushing them down along with my feelings.

Wouldn’t it be more loving to ignore a Saturday afternoon task that didn’t get done?

At other times, it’s sounded too exhausting to take the time to talk through them.

What if I couldn’t express my desires in a clear way?

What if he thought my ideas were ridiculous?

Sometimes I’ve wanted to force my husband to understand things from my perspective before making any effort to consider his own.

If only I felt like I was being heard, then I could be more loving and respectful when it was his turn.

Jesus Love

But Jesus didn’t put qualifications on others. The Scripture doesn’t say, “Consider others better than yourselves if you feel like you’ve been listened to and appreciated.”

Jesus died for us when we were still stained by sin, ignoring the abundant life He longed to give.

Grace is only grace when it has nothing to do with our behavior and everything to do with accepting and extending His gift of mercy (Ephesians 2:8-9).

That’s the kind of communication He invites us into—gracious, loving, forgiving—all empowered by the Spirit.

Here are a few things that have helped me when conflict seems to build like a pressure cooker.

Tell Jesus how I’m feeling.

We have access to a friend who knows our inmost being, sympathizes with our weakness, showers us with grace, and has the power to help us change. Would we rather trade that for Facebook sympathy?

2. Listen.

Emotions can feel like cotton balls stuffed in our ears, preventing us from hearing what our husbands are really trying to express. But God’s Spirit has the power to hold us as we press our lips tight or ask questions that will prompt him into sharing. It might surprise us what things he values over getting dinner on the table on time.

3. Be honest about my struggle.

I’m amazed by the gracious response Christopher gives me when I admit to what I’m struggling with and confess the anger and resentment that I’ve allowed to grow.

And when I’m able to state my failed hopes in a non-hormone-charged way, it gives him a chance to process what I’m saying.

A few years ago, a counselor encouraged us to consider the trust we’d built up from resolving past disagreements as we allow ourselves to vulnerably share our feelings with each other.

4. Pray together.

Sometimes I ask Christopher to pray for me right in the moment if I begin to feel condemnation and lies running through my thoughts. Sometimes he suggests we pray together if the disagreement doesn’t seem like it can be easily resolved.

Because asking for wisdom is a request God delights to answer. (James 1:5)

So often I try to find a solution to our problems by relying on my own understanding, (even if I’ve just prayed for God’s wisdom), which is a kind of spiritual schizophrenia as Jen Wilkin said in her Biblestudy on James.

Something Christopher has said many times to encourage me is, “I’m on your side.” We are in this together as we fight against sin and selfish desires.

5. Evaluate the expectations I have for myself.

When I feel frustrated by how little I accomplished during the day, it’s easy to want to try to make up for it in the evening. I find myself going into squirrel-mode, grabbing as many acorns as I can and trying to make others around me do the same.

“Here—take this acorn and put it in the dishwasher.”

“Put all your acorns back in your toybox this instant.”

“Did you call the guy about reimbursing our acorns yet?”

But sometimes, a few of my acorns need to be left strewn across the floor in favor of helping with my husband and son’s acorns.

Often, they are better at showing me how to love them than if I try to love them how I think they should be loved. (They’re also really good at loving and enjoying me without any thought to how many acorns they have to step around).

When we make the effort to work through conflict, we have the chance to catch glimpses of the perfect relationships we will have in Heaven in the Jesus-filled way they were meant to be.

Will you ask for the Spirit’s power, living in the hope of the gospel as you work through the messes of today?

He is ready to help.

More Important Than Traditions

December 18, 2015September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 7 Comments

I’ve often imagined Mary and Joseph introducing the shepherds to baby Jesus in the same way parents bring their new baby to church for the first time—squeaky clean and wearing a ruffly dress.

Members flock around and pass the baby back and forth, commenting on how much the little lump looks like her mom or dad.

Actually, the stable was probably a bit of a mess. Not only had it recently housed animals, but Mary had also given birth there.

Maybe Jesus hadn’t gotten all his sweet crevices washed out completely.

Maybe he was colicky.

And yet, even as Mary was recovering and welcoming shepherds as her first post-birth visitors, she treasured all that had happened, pondering it in her heart (Luke 2:19).

She embraced the experience in the midst of her pain and discomfort.

As I read news headlines and see the struggles of friends close to me, I’m reminded that pain isn’t put on hold for the Christmas season, no matter how much tinsel and merry feelings we try to cover it up with.

We long for freedom from disappointments in our family and other relationships.

My mentor Natalie reminded me that many of us put all our energy into trying to make our world look the way we think it should, instead of being okay with our broken lives.

It’s natural to desire perfection because that’s the way the world was made. It was all good.

But when human sin messed everything up,

God didn’t throw it all away.

He allowed it to be broken.

One of the ways I’ve attempted to fix my world has been through trying to start traditions for my family. I’ve wanted to recreate the moments that I can remember from growing up (though my mom doesn’t seem to remember my childhood holidays as glowingly as I can).

If I could only set the scene with Christmas tree, goodies, laughter, and feelings of peace and goodwill, I would be happy.

When I don’t feel the same way in the present as I remember experiencing in the past, I’ve wanted to take charge of others’ behavior to try and manufacture that joy.

When I’ve tried to be in control of my circumstances, it’s only added to the frustration when I can’t make my husband’s work give him less responsibilities or cause my two year old to reflect on the beauty of advent.

Simple Reminders

On Thanksgiving, as I was listening to the Sons and Daughters Sovereign Grace cd, the Spirit (and probably a few pregnancy hormones) brought tears to my eyes as I realized that what I needed more than recreating the right tradition was a simple memorial or two that would remind me and my family of the gospel.

God made flesh.

God with us.

God to the rescue.

It might not be glittery or be Pinterest-worthy.

We may not get to an Advent reading every night. (Or when we do, our son may be more interested in smashing his peas on his plate one by one, rather than listening to the Scripture.)

It may even keep us from participating in all the “good deed” opportunities that spring up this time of year.

Reminding ourselves and each other of the gospel will free our hearts to enjoy all the other beauties of Christmas.

Maybe it’s a comment to our children about how thankful we are Jesus came to live among us.

Maybe it’s a word of comfort or prayer for a friend who can’t see how God is working.

Maybe it’s a whispered prayer for Jesus’ joy when our husband comes home tired and not eager to listen to our troubles.

Or maybe it’s choosing to laugh when the tree gets knocked over and a few ornaments shatter into a million tiny pieces.

When we focus on the gospel, our souls will be at rest in the Jesus who came as a lumpy baby to live among us, experience life on earth while living it perfectly, and become the sacrifice for all the sins we stain the world with every day.

Pain, messiness, and beauty can live together as we remember the reason Jesus came to earth, and then allow ourselves to delight in the smell of a fresh Christmas tree, twinkly icicle lights, gifts that make our children laugh, and the same songs that come back to warm us like an embrace.

And when we’re just too distracted by the difficult circumstances to see the beauty on earth, we can grit our teeth and grab hold of the gospel as we acknowledge God’s love and all the other spiritual blessings we might not feel.

Will you take a moment the next time you’re staring at your Christmas tree or a flickering candle, to travel back in time, push aside the straw to sit by Mary as she traces the curves of Jesus’ face?

Will you reflect on the wonder of it all—God with us?

And will you invite others to do the same?

5 Ways to Respond When Your Faults Are Laid Bare

November 13, 2015September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 9 Comments

It’s the pause in conversation that makes me hold my breath, hoping that I can stop time or at least postpone what I don’t want to hear.

The pause after I’ve asked a question of someone, realizing in that split second that the person is going to point out one of my faults or a way I’ve failed their expectations.

The words that follow are the hardest not to interrupt– to try and justify myself.

To keep from offering a quick “I’m sorry” and “Can we go back to the way things were?”

No one is perfect, but it hasn’t made me feel any less condemned.

When a person brings to light something I’d rather keep hidden, it’s almost as if I split into two people.

Part of me is listening to the words the person is saying, and the other part is standing beside the sharer, shaking an accusing finger back at me.

She becomes louder than the person who is actually speaking, railing on about all the ways I will never measure up, and that I’m a complete failure to those I love.

She inserts twisted expectations the person speaking hasn’t even mentioned, like. . .

You will always be an anxious person, feeling uptight over circumstances that would make others laugh.

You will never learn how to control your reactions of impatience toward your son.

You will never reach a point where your tone and behavior respects and honors your husband.

When I realize the real person is still speaking, sometimes offering words of encouragement that I can’t quite focus on, I start to envy turtles, wishing I had my own built-in closet to hide in.

Trying to change in my own strength has felt like juggling knives. I might be able to learn how to do it for a few seconds, but when I drop them, I always get cut.

I’ve forgotten that the God who raised Jesus from the dead is living inside of me, ready to help and give grace when I fail.

Here are a few steps I’ve taken when the knives of condemnation start to break skin.

Praise God for who He is.

When I take time to search Scripture and think about who God is, it’s a whole lot easier to remember that I’m not alone. The One who is with me is more powerful than a lion and gentler than a lamb.

I often sing You are Holy while in the car, since it lists so many names of God.

Thank God for His promises.

No matter how I’ve seemed to mess up my life or relationships, God’s promises are always there, like a ripe peach ready to be picked.

Some of the promises I’ve clung to in these times are:

God doesn’t condemn me, because Jesus took my punishment and shame.

He has adopted me as His child.

He loved me and provided the way to be rescued, even while I was still wallowing in my sins.

My value is not based on my performance.

No matter what happens on earth, my ultimate destination is living a life of joy in Jesus’ presence on the New Earth.

Pour out your feelings and frustrations to God.

Flip to almost any of the psalms, and you’ll see hearts being laid bare. Fear, discouragement, and cries for help remind me of all I can bring before God.

When I also confess where I’ve sinned through thought, words, or action, His forgiving embrace is there, ready to remind me that I am His.

Many of the psalms end with a note of hope, as the writers speak truth about God, inviting His thoughts into their feelings.

Be honest about your struggle.

Sometimes, I’m working so hard to hide the fact that I have faults, I don’t let others in on any of my feelings. My husband told me that he can’t always tell when I’m struggling, unless I say it outright (without trying to send any subliminal messages.)

When those close to me know the parts of me that are sick, they can fight with me instead of against me when I let them down. They can bring me before God’s throne and cheer me on as I battle. (Ephesians 6)

Thank God for His forgiveness, for His Spirit’s power working inside of you.

The God who began a good work in us will carry it on to completion (Philippians 1). The Spirit delights in our process of growing in holiness, and we can look forward to the day when we will be sanctified through and through (1 Thessalonians 4:23).

Sometimes it’s helpful to reflect on the changes God has guided us into already. Packing for trips used to make me incredibly anxious and overwhelmed, but on this last trip, I was able to rest in Jesus’ peace, knowing I wasn’t a terrible person if I forgot something. Thanking Him for the progress has given me an extra measure of strength for the battle.

How can you join in the fight today, rather than surrendering to thoughts that destroy?

Who has God brought into your life to fight for?

Jesus, may the next painful conversation we have be covered in your grace as we seek to depend on You. We are Yours.

5 Ways to Practice Hospitality When Your Hobby Isn’t Cooking

September 18, 2015September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 9 Comments

When Christopher and I spent the summer in Iraq, a few of us were invited to the home of three students in our English program.

I had gotten to know their mom a little bit on a previous visit and expressed my amazement as dish after dish was brought out, covering almost every inch of the tablecloth on the floor.

She grinned and said that she’d been up since 3am cooking the noon meal. When I peeked in the kitchen later, I saw her daughter and other female relatives who had come over bustling around in the kitchen, cleaning up all the food we had left behind.

Months later, when we invited a couple over to our home in Delaware, I knew my spread would look nothing like the abundance we’d been shown in Iraq. I wasn’t even planning to make a jello salad, which seemed to be a staple when my mom had people over after church.

Instead, when the day came, I was just trying to make sure the chicken was cooked through, and the rice was fluffy enough.

Well, that and a number of other household tasks I hadn’t left myself enough time for– cleaning the bathroom, sweeping, taking out the trashes, and washing the dishes—all in the last half hour before our company came.

I started ordering Christopher around, frustrated that I couldn’t clone myself. I wondered what our friends would think if they showed up fifteen minutes early, to me running around and thinking that if I was stressed enough, things would get done faster.

Sometimes I felt like it wasn’t worth it—the potential for marital conflict, trying to get the house clean all at once, and the possibility of something burning and feeling ashamed.

Why would God ask me to do something that felt so hard?

I needed to discern what the Bible said, rather than trying to imitate the culture I had observed.

In the book of Romans, Paul spends the first chapters of the letter talking about our sin and guilty verdict before God and the penalty Jesus paid to make us right before Him.

In Romans 8, we are reminded that not only are we not guilty, but we have also been adopted as sons and daughters of the Father.

Romans 12 begins with the words, “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.”

God has given me all the mercy I need to have a guilt-free relationship with Him. So when He asks me to do something, my actions must come from that place of acceptance and peace.

Which is where the idea of hospitality comes in. In the second part of Romans 12, Paul talks about the qualities believers should desire.

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.”

I can’t force myself to have any of these qualities, just like I can’t practice hospitality without His joy giving me the strength I need.

Though I still feel I have a lot to learn in this area, here are a few things I’ve discovered five years into the journey.

Entertaining is not the same thing as hospitality.

When I’ve thought of hospitality, I’ve often pictured a white table cloth on a candle-lit table, more side dishes than can be counted, and a main dish that resembles a piece of art more than something to digest. I’ve thought of pinterest ideas and decorating magazines.

Just conjuring up the images made me tired.

I couldn’t get excited about hospitality until I realized the difference between entertaining to impress and inviting people into our home because we wanted to enjoy their presence.

I was also inspired by some podcasts about hospitality given by Nancy Wilson and her daughters who currently have an abundance of little ones. You can check them out here.

Hospitality doesn’t have to involve a home-cooked meal.

When Christopher and I were both working new teaching jobs, I had little social energy left for other relationships. When it was our turn to host our small group at our house, we served a small snack or a pitcher of lemonade. One Saturday, we had our Sunday School kids over to bake cookies.

Since becoming an at-home mom, I’ve been able to have ladies over for tea and prayer. We’ve had a few of Christopher’s co-workers over. If Christopher has some guy friends over to play games, I try to have a couple snacks squirreled away for that, too.

It doesn’t just happen. It takes intentionality and planning.

When my sister-in-law and I were out shopping one day, she told me that they factor in extra money in their grocery budget for hospitality.

It encouraged me that even if we could eat more frugally ourselves, part of showing love to others might be budgeting those extra dollars to feed a few more mouths. If I plan ahead, I can even get the items I need on my regular grocery shopping day.

Once I spread my cleaning jobs throughout the week instead of cramming them all in on the company day, I could focus on food and dishes before people came over. I figured that if they saw a stray hair on the bathroom sink, they probably wouldn’t decide to walk out the door.

It opens the way for relationships to be deepened.

When my mind was on making sure water glasses stayed filled and toys didn’t get strewn too far, I couldn’t focus on the conversation or ask thoughtful questions.

When I was able to lower my expectations of hospitality, I could relax a little more and respond to requests, rather than trying to preempt them.

When I quit worrying about how my hospitality was being perceived, I was free to enjoy and be encouraged by the people God had brought into our home.

It gives us the chance to welcome others in the same way Christ has welcomed us.

When we reach out to others and invite them into one of the most intimate parts of our lives, it is a way we can imitate the God who delights to welcome us into His family.

Who knows? Maybe God will use us as part of His invitation to draw others to the greatest banquet ever.

Who might the Spirit be leading you to welcome into your home?

Do you have any tips for practicing hospitality with little ones?

20 Things My Toddler Taught Me

August 14, 2015September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 2 Comments

1. People are more important than possessions.

He was digging through the cupboard of pots and pans and I hadn’t heard any alarming crashes. But when I went to put the pans away, I saw my crimson-glazed 9 by 9 baking dish in three pieces on the floor. After a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself, I realized I’d rather have my son than an intact dish.

2. Laughter is not something to ration out. (Or other expressions of joy, for that matter)

If Isaiah is pleased, he is usually laughing. If his older cousins are laughing, he joins right in. A sliced open watermelon elicits a “Wow!” Being chased or pursued brings squeals of delight, especially if it involves his daddy pretending to eat him in the end.

Maybe if I laughed that much, I’d feel better about my day, too.

3. Life is richer when lived in the present.

I’m amazed at what Isaiah notices when we are out and about. He watches a semi barrel down the road, points to birds flying in the air, hears crop dusters fly by, and notices each child in the grocery store. So often my thoughts are wrapped up my to-do list or if I said the right thing during a conversation the night before.

Maybe if I observed the world a little closer, I’d appreciate it more.

4. Social media can lure me in like a fly to a spiderweb (and mess up my priorities).

Sometimes when Isaiah starts to fuss, my thought is, “How many more emails or messages can I go through before he gets really loud?” The bursts of interruption when I’m in cyberworld help me to remember that making supper is important and so is reading books, teaching Isaiah the difference between a yak and a giraffe.

5. Surrendering to the unexpected can be healthy.

Whether a diaper soaks through or he just wants me to read him “Do Cows Meow?” again, Isaiah has taught me to let go of my plans and enjoy moments of beauty, like a butterfly looping in the air instead of trying to save it for later and crushing it in the process. He loves it when I invite people over or my sister-in-law stops by. It may be just what I needed.

6. I can’t do this parenting thing on my own, (or this life thing, really).

Through crying, tantrums, and confusion (on both our parts), every day I am reminded that I need Jesus. Without His help, I can’t help but react in frustration and anger. I can’t show my son the patience he needs.

7. Asking intentional questions can be scary and wonderful (because life is short).

Having a conversation with another mother of a toddler is like being a trapeze performer talking to a lion tamer during a three ring circus. Your mind is always partially occupied with something else. Since it’s hard enough for us to get in close proximity enough to hear each other, each moment is precious. I don’t want to miss a chance to find out how she is doing. Does it matter whether my child is potty-trained or not yet?

8. Plans can be changed.

I used to think if I figured out a schedule to live by and kept to it like a military private, I would feel satisfied and productive. Instead, it felt a bit like a noose in the year before Isaiah was born. If I didn’t take that morning walk, I’d be failing in doing what’s best.

Some days Isaiah prefers more attention, sometimes he needs to just get outside, and when that nose starts to run, he needs a little more TLC and quarantine.

If I surrender my days to an unchanging God, who always knows what is best, I can trust Him to lead me in the rhythms of life.

9. It doesn’t always feel more blessed to give than to receive.

I don’t like sharing my last bite of cupcake with Isaiah. I certainly didn’t feel like getting up to feed him during the night when he was a baby.

But each time I struggle with my own selfishness, it gives me the chance to run to Jesus. He is always there to sympathize with our weaknesses and forgive us when we ask (Hebrews 4).

10. My son is not a reflection of me.

When he sends cars flying off the coffee table, when he makes burping sounds and laughs, when he dives onto the couch cushions, I know he’s not me.

But when people are watching, when he rips a truck out of the hands of another toddler, when he cries because he can’t push the buttons on the grocery store card reader, it’s easy to think I’m at fault.

If I let myself worry so much about how I’m perceived, I might forget the shepherding and training I’m supposed to be focusing on.

11. It’s important for me to stay healthy.

When I take time to practice creativity through writing or take some time in the evening to get lost in a novel, I often feel more energy to embrace the cooking, laundry, and moments of teaching and discipline.

If I’m determinedly checking off a too-long list of tasks, requests for help or a listening ear can be met with anger or self-pity. Even toddlers can catch these vibes.

12. I’m not in control. (Was I really able to live under that illusion before?)

When Isaiah’s skin felt like it had been baked in an oven, we couldn’t heal him from his fever.

When he gets older and is pelted by hurtful words, I won’t be able to stop it.

But I can keep giving my son up to our loving Father who’s got the whole redemption story worked out and wins in the end.

13. It’s okay to not always feel understood.

Isaiah is learning to talk, and about half the time I have no idea if he’s trying to recite the preamble or tell me about his time at Grandma’s. Even when he’s repeating a word over and over, in increasingly panicky tones, sometimes I just don’t get it.

There are times when I feel I’m doing the same thing, trying to put into words how I feel or what I wish would happen. Sometimes, people won’t understand no matter how hard I try. That’s okay, because the Spirit totally understands and intercedes for us when we can’t even find the words to pray (Romans 8).

Sometimes it’s better to just split a banana smoothie with Isaiah and sip it in silence, anyway.

14. Sometimes efficiency is unloving.

I have often thought my husband would be happy if I got the house cleaned up before he got home, but usually I’d run out of time and try to listen to him and follow a recipe at the same time. When I’d try to get the dishes cleaned up quickly, I’d feel tense and ungrateful for Husband unloading the dish drainer.

Sometimes I don’t want to take the time to kiss boo-boos or talk to Isaiah’s stuffed bear.

Sometimes I absolutely have to get something done—but usually it can wait a few minutes.

15. Daddies like it when we take an interest in what they’re doing.

Whether it’s watching fighter jets on youtube or punching out the pieces to a new board game, Isaiah is almost always right by his Daddy’s side. When I join in on hearing Christopher’s passions, we can enjoy our time together as a family.

16. Trying new things and looking silly is worth it.

All day long, Isaiah tries to imitate what we are doing—yoga stretches, cooking, putting on deodorant. He usually misses a few numbers when counting to ten or singing his do re mi’s. But he tries. He’s not afraid of messing up.

What if I allowed myself the same freedom?

17. God loves me just as I am.

Isaiah doesn’t contribute too tangibly to society yet (unless you count dirty diapers and food art). He doesn’t help too many old ladies cross the street or wash the dishes.

And we love him like crazy.

If we don’t expect Isaiah to earn our pleasure by his performance, why do I let myself feel that way about God?

18. It’s okay to cry when something hurts.

Isaiah probably cries three or four times a day from trips, stubs, and pinched fingers. Sometimes letting it all out can get us back to zooming our tractors around again.

19. Being messy can be liberating.

Isaiah doesn’t mind when his hands and neck are sticky with watermelon juice. He doesn’t care if the toys are picked up. He still drops his spoon.

Sometimes grimy hugs are more important than keeping my clothes clean.

Sometimes risking messy relationships is better than not having them at all.

20. There isn’t always a right way of doing something.

Why eat your strawberry slices with a fork, when you can stick your fingers through them? Why tear your lettuce into a salad when you can dip the stalk itself into ranch dressing?

When I spend too much energy making sure my family does things the right way, it stays in the air like a stinky diaper, distracting from more meaningful conversation.

Thanks, Isaiah, for putting up with this mama of yours.

Thank you, Father, for loving me as I am, but also loving me too much to let me stay that way.

What’s one thing your kids have taught you? I’d love to hear.

Why You Don’t Have To Be an Extrovert To Be Brave

July 31, 2015September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 9 Comments

I was in 8^th grade, and our family had just moved to a new state. In the past, my gym experience had consisted of making sure the teachers knew I was trying, and not looking too relieved when I got hit with the dodgeball and could sit on the sidelines.

In most team sports, I could run around and still become translucent enough for the other kids to forget to pass me the ball.

But this new school implemented a torture program called skills tests. The teacher would grab her clipboard and check our names off if we bumped the volleyball in the air 100 times in a row. (Okay, maybe it was only 10 times).

I had enough coordination to play a Mozart Minuet on my violin, but could not, for the life of me, get that volleyball to return to my clutched hands when I bumped it into the air.

The other kids stood around watching me (or maybe they’d already started to head to the locker room to change), and there I was, chasing after my renegade volleyball with the gym teacher telling me to try again.

I concluded that I’d be able to save myself a lot of pain and embarrassment if I avoided these situations as much as possible. Since my parents wouldn’t let me homeschool gym class, I had to continue risking my GPA and dignity.

But there were plenty of other chances I could put my theory to work.

The youth group was getting together to play soccer? Offer to take pictures instead.

The summer camp was doing a relay involving shaving cream and wet thrift store clothes?
Find some other girls who wanted to be cheerleaders on the sidelines with me. (And who were also equally disgusted with the idea of jumping in a mud pit for fun)

It seemed to work fairly well, pretending everyone else was on some reality show that I couldn’t join even if I’d tried. (I’d even whisper jokes into my friend’s ear sometimes, because I knew she’d be brave enough to say them out loud and make people laugh.)

But soon these ideas bled into almost all of my relationships and thoughts.

Introduce myself to the new kid at church? What if I don’t know what to say?

Speak up in Sunday School class? I’ll probably stumble over my words, and people will be wishing the whole time that I’d be quiet so someone more capable could vibrate their vocal cords.

Play my violin on the youth worship team? Worship teams don’t have violins, and I might ruin the song with wrong notes.

Pray out loud with someone? What if I get so nervous I say something heretical or there is a long five-second silence?

Over the years, Jesus has used mentors, friends, and His Word to open my fist enough for some of the fears to slip away.

Here are three things I learned (and am learning) in the process:

1. It takes practice.
Once I started introducing myself to a few people, it became less finger-numbing and sweaty. I found myself asking similar questions to find out about their lives.

I’d steal my husband’s question and ask what they did for fun. I’d volunteer some information about myself and my interests. Each time it got a little easier, (with a few awkward moments still sprinkled in there to keep me on my toes).

When I’d make a comment in a class, sometimes no one would grab onto it as I silently reeled in my empty fishing line of thoughts. I’d go home and replay the scenes in my head, wishing I’d said something different. Sometimes, I’d ask for Jesus’ help to not think about it anymore.

He caused me to realize that before I started contributing my thoughts, I would always wish I’d been brave enough to say something.

One summer in high school, I shared with my camp counselor about being afraid to speak up. She challenged me to think about what I would be selfishly keeping from the Body of Christ by not sharing the insight I’d learned.

When I was finally brave enough to join the worship team, I got to use the classical musical knowledge I had gained in a new way, adding harmonies to the guitar chords like sprinkles on a cup cake. And I even made some friends in the process.

Praying out loud became easier when I “practiced” praying in my private devotions, asking myself what I really wanted God to do in people’s lives, how I wanted them to feel His grace and love in their pain, and look to Him when they were struggling. (An exciting added dimension in this stage of life has been praying with someone while keeping an eye on my toddler who likes to soak himself at the drinking fountain.)

2. It takes focusing more on the other person than on myself.
Sometimes, if someone asks me a question in front of a group, I feel like I have a personal court stenographer who’s going to write down everything I say and read it back so everyone can laugh at how un-eloquent I am.

But when those fears threaten to tie a gag around my mouth, I have to remember where my identity comes from. It’s not about what I say and do. It’s about finding my confidence in Christ’s finished work on the cross.

Only when I know my identity is secure can I invite others to delight in Him as well. I can risk some awkward silences and miscommunications.

If it’s more about showing others God’s glory than looking good ourselves, it doesn’t really matter whether we could have been more witty or intellectual-sounding.

In fact, maybe our fancy words would have just gotten in the way, like trying to convince someone how delicious a souffle is before letting them taste it for themselves.

3. It takes grace. Lots of it.
It’s not easy to admit to being wrong or have someone disagree with me. It’s scary to feel misunderstood. But I’m reminded that I’m not alone when I read the gospels and see how many people disagreed with and misunderstood Jesus, who was perfect. It might not be me they are rejecting.

And when I do say something I wish I hadn’t, I can always ask for forgiveness and accept the grace Jesus offers every second of every day.

Sometimes I still like to just listen and observe. I don’t want to try to become an extrovert. But I also don’t want to miss the chances that God wants to love someone through me.

Jesus, show us how to bravely love like you this week. We are yours.

How to Add More Relational Passion to Your Marriage

July 17, 2015September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 9 Comments

“How was your time last night?”

Christopher’s face lit up like a thousand fireflies as he recounted the people he’d met, the board games he’d played, and the strategy he was able to execute perfectly.

His passion for people and board games flowed out of him as he talked, permeating the room like brownies baking in the oven.

My words slipped into the space he left behind as I explained the mind-bending plot twist in the novel I’d just finished, while we watched Isaiah zoom his cars along the floor.

Sometimes I tell him about the premise of the sweet romance I watched with friends. Or I get to talking about my own novel I’m writing, as I’ve discovered new depths to my characters’ interests and motivations.

It feels a little like when we were dating—when we couldn’t wait to see each other again and catch up on the details of our lives as if we were going to be tested on them.

Much-Needed Marriage Advice
One of the best pieces of marriage advice I received before my wedding came from my sister-in-law, Queena. She encouraged me to support my husband in something he enjoys doing without me.

What? But won’t our relationship grow better if we’re together? He is at work all day, after all.

As a new bride, it was easy for me to want my husband with me all the time. We had a number of shared interests and enjoyed being together.

I felt safe with him, and I didn’t have to make the effort to call anyone else or risk the rejection I felt if they declined.

The problem was, Christopher couldn’t meet all of my needs, because it’s impossible for one person to do.

I’m so thankful for the times when our family does do things together, but living with two members of the opposite gender, I realized I needed some time with the gender that thinks a little more like me.

Someone who understands when hormones cloud my logical thinking–and knows how to make sympathetic sounds and nod at the right time.

And as I share life with friends, I can learn about their passions. Sometimes, I’ll ask a question like, “What are you enjoying about life?” to get the conversation going.

The Universe-Shaper God created us in His image, like the different colors and pieces in a stained-glass window. How could we not want to explore and appreciate each tiny pane?

My time apart from Christopher has also caused me to look at myself and discover which creative pursuits energize me. (You can read more here.)

Working Out Expectations
There have been times when life’s been moving so fast, we’ve needed to guard our time with each other. Sometimes our expectations haven’t matched up, and we’ve needed to be honest with each other about feeling smothered or distant.

I know my husband will always feel energized by being with people on Friday nights (or singing with his barbershop quartet). Sometimes I get together with a friend while he’s away, but other times I’d rather just lose myself in a novel.

Then, when we come back together, we have more to give. We don’t have to be as concerned about getting all our relational needs filled from each other.

When we have people over as a couple, we can delight in practicing hospitality together, adding our individual interests and passions to the conversation.

Plus, Isaiah gets to see his mommy and daddy enjoying life (and learn that it doesn’t all revolve around him).

When Christopher and I are excited about life, our passions curl us even closer together, like a blanket. And when I just don’t get the draw of a space-themed strategy game he played with one of his friends, I can still delight in his joy (and the way his eyes squint when he’s happy).

What is your husband passionate about? I’d love to hear!

The Danger of Wanting to See Results

July 10, 2015September 16, 2017 ~ alicia.ruth.yoder ~ 16 Comments

One summer in high school, I noticed a billboard on my way to work that said, “We took immediately and made it faster.”

We live in a culture of microwaved food, vitamin supplements, and exercise programs promising to burn our fat faster.

You want to grow your hair faster? There’s a shampoo for that.

Now that my son is a toddler, he loves to run as fast as he can (not usually paying attention to obstacles obstructing his path).

Why would we want to do anything slowly if we can get a similar result faster?

Growing up, I measured my nine-month schoolyears by twice a year report cards.

I went on short-term mission trips.

Getting married was one of my first decisions where I couldn’t picture the end.

When I got pregnant with Isaiah, we waited the designated nine months to meet him, and then he was here.

For good.

There was no putting him back where he came from.

There would be no days off unless they were carefully arranged.

For the first months of his life, he would even receive all his sustenance from me.

No Test to Ace
I realized that in motherhood there were no periodic evaluations, final exams, or times specifically devoted to reflecting on my performance.

It was just . . . doing life.

No one was telling me if I did a bad job.

When we felt the Lord redirecting us from the goal of moving overseas (you can read more here), I spent time questioning my purpose.

What if I couldn’t see how God was choosing to use me?

What if He didn’t choose to use me at all?

My mentor Natalie reminded me that “Being used by God is a byproduct of my relationship with Him.”

My focus can’t be about achieving results, because . . .

God wants my heart.

If I use my performance or relationships with others to make me feel significant, I will always be disappointed in the end.

If my contentment in Jesus is based on how I can or cannot see Him using me, it will be easy to fall into the comparison trap (you can read more here).

Mothering Like Jesus
At the height of Jesus’ ministry, He often went to quiet places to be alone with His Father. He blessed children when He could have spent the time healing more people and seeing immediate results. (Mark 10:13-16)

Do I want my son to see a mom who is obsessed with evaluating performance?

What might he conclude about my love for him if that’s my highest concern?

Melissa Kruger, in her excellent biblestudy on Walking With God in the Season of Motherhood, wrote that our “hope is to have God impact our own lives in such a way that His imprint on our hearts makes a lasting impression on our children…. If we want peaceful, hopeful, kind, and compassionate children, it is essential that we grow in these graces ourselves. In the beauty of God’s design, He is in the process of parenting us as we parent our children.”

A Patient God
If we look at God’s plan of redemption, we are reminded again and again of His patience.

He is not in a hurry.

If He were, He wouldn’t have made Sarah barren for so many years.

He wouldn’t have put up with the Israelites flailing around in their sin and choosing to remember Him only when they were in trouble.

He wouldn’t have preserved a remnant when conquerors came, one after the other.

He wouldn’t have come to earth as a baby and then entrusted the message of the gospel to a small group of disciples.

If God were in a hurry, I’m pretty sure none of us would have had the chance to be born.

God wants us to abide in Him as grapes on His vine Jesus (John 15). He wants us to enjoy Him, ready to be squeezed into a precious bottle of wine when the time is right–so that if visible results do come, our first response won’t be to feel good about ourselves.

It will be to worship Him.

Here are seven snippets of truth my mentor Natalie shared with me for when I struggle to see results.

1. Submit your time table to God.

2. Remember that only Jesus brings true satisfaction.

3. Rejoice that His burden is light. (Matthew 11:30)

4. Realize that you don’t need to have all the answers at once. (He’s got it under control.)

5. Recognize that God’s kingdom almost always looks different from the world’s view of success.

6. Invite Him into every part of your life (even the boring diaper changes and laundry).

7. Ask God to help you rejoice in the beautiful works that are being done by others.

Will you ask Jesus to help you enjoy Him today?

Considering the Lilies

Enjoying Jesus in the busyness of life and family

Relationships