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What Mary Said

November 21, 2013December 7, 2023by Pam Anderson3 Comments

And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” Luke 1:38

Who doesn’t love the Beatles? Don’t most of us sing along with Paul McCartney, John Lennon, Ringo Starr and George Harrison? When we hear those familiar tunes, don’t we all love to belt out the lyrics to “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” or “Twist and Shout,” or “Here Comes the Sun.” I do. When I hear them, I can’t help but join in.

And so, this morning’s revelation kind of stopped me in my tracks. Because today was the day I realized that the Beatles sang Scripture. And so, when millions of people sing along with Paul McCartney, they too, are singing Scripture. For “Let it Be” is biblical. It’s found in the book of Luke, chapter 1, verse 38. “Let it be…” And the words belonged to Mary. It’s what she said.

Sing along if you know the lines…

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be…

Today I contemplated the lyrics of this song for the first time. Ever. Despite having heard the song hundreds of times, and having always understood that Mary is the mother of Christ, today I paused to consider their deeper meaning. “Let it Be.” What Let it Be could have meant to the Beatles. And what Let it Be means for us today. What wisdom lie within those words uttered by Mother Mary. Let’s consider…

Mary was a young virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph. And like any young girl who is soon to be married, don’t you think her mind was filled with what was to come? For she was soon to be a woman. She would soon leave her family to be joined with a man… becoming one flesh. But one day, everything changed.

An angel appeared to her, startling her with his greeting, “Rejoice, highly favored one, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women!” Mary was troubled, and so the angel encouraged her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” He proceeded to tell her of what was to come, but she couldn’t imagine how that could be, for she had never known a man. The angel’s reply…

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Highest will overshadow you; therefore, also, that Holy One who is to be born will be called the Son of God.”

Imagine. This was a young girl. She had never been intimate with a man but she was told she would conceive. Do you think she was joyful? Or full of trepidation? For a woman didn’t have as many rights then as she does today. No, an unwed, pregnant girl would surely endure hardship.

And what of her engagement… what would Joseph think? If we had lived then, and found ourselves in similar circumstances, would we have responded as Mary did? In the face of harsh reality, could we have done the courageous thing.

Knowing with certainty that people would scorn and ridicule her, Mary accepted her fate. She was destined to be the mother of God’s Son, and she welcomed her circumstances. And despite what was sure to come her way, Mary said the courageous thing. She spoke words of wisdom and replied, “Let it be to me according to your word.” Let it Be. To me.

Mary may have been a young girl, but she was wise. God chosen one. And blessed was she who believed, for there was a fulfillment of those things which were told her. For she knew with God that anything was possible. Thus, she faced what life served up. She walked in courage and in strength for she dwelled within the shadow of the Most High. And as she poured herself into Jesus, her Son grew within the shadow of her love.

But over time, as she watched Jesus grow in stature with God and with men, she realized her destiny was complete. Because God’s love for the world, which was housed in a man called Jesus, soon eclipsed Mary’s love for her own. For Jesus was God in the flesh, and He had His own destiny to fulfill. And so, again, Mary had to let it be. Circumstances were beyond her control.

Let it be were the wise words of Mother Mary. They were also the words of the Beatles. And I just learned that circumstances may not have been so favorable at that time, for “Let it Be” was their breakup album. Perhaps those young men were drawing strength from Mary’s words at a time when they needed to be encouraged. Because Paul McCartney cries out no less than 36 times, “Let it Be!”

See, the band was parting ways, soon to venture off on individual paths. Was it an angry split? Or was it just time? Regardless of the reason, I’m sure a bittersweet season hovered upon their souls. And so Paul’s words must have come from a deep place. Words spewed forth from a turbulent heart. And ours too, as we echo his refrain, “Let it Be.”

I’m sure Paul meant what he sang. And may we feel the same. When life serves up something we’re not quite sure how to handle, may we face it courageously. And in our darkest hour, may Mary’s words be planted deep inside sprouting forth the peace we crave…

“Let it Be, unto me… according to your word, Lord.”

As for Mary, she was wise indeed. And she had a way with words. Even after Jesus was a grown man with His own ministry. For there was a wedding but the wine ran dry.

Mary knew what to do, though. She turned to Jesus. He replied, “My hour has not yet come.” She must have been persistent, though, for she directed the servants, “Whatever He says to you, do it.”

More words of wisdom from Mary.

And the people listened to her. And did what she said. And what He said. Then, they beheld a miracle. Water turned to wine. And Mary? She probably wasn’t surprised. For she knew…

With God all things are possible.

And she knew her Son. For she grew up in the shadow of His love.

Mary turned to Jesus in an hour of need. And she pointed others in the same direction. She did so by speaking words of wisdom…

Let it Be…

It’s what Mary said.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QDYfEBY9NM4

She Believes

October 31, 2013by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

“Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!” Luke 1:45

My sister-in-law has a lot going on, as I think most women do. We’re just busy. So busy. We become hurried and rushed and before we know it, we’re covered up by a list of to-do’s that keep us distracted from the things that really matter. Like our kids. For me, it’s the dishes and the laundry and the work emails and the paperwork and the cat boxes and the appointments and the practices and so on and so forth. So much. I scurry here and there and before I know it, it’s bedtime. And that’s when guilt sets in. Because that’s when I have time to contemplate my day and realize I did nothing that I really wanted to do. Like pour myself into my child. Oh, I may have accomplished some things on my to-do list… but what about my child. Did I put any of myself into him before tucking him into his bed?

Rushing. It’s part of a mother’s life. For me… this leads to the wilderness mentality. Some of you may know what I’m talking about. God’s chosen people, the Israelites, wandered in the wilderness forty years. Basically, a desert land. And sadly, just about every one of them died in that desert land for they were unable to enter the land of promise. It was disbelief that kept them out. But two made it. There were who heard what God had to say. And they believed Him. Those two entered into God’s promises, for they believed.

Yep, the wilderness. Too often, this is where I find myself. Because my busyness leads me there. And when my to-do list is not finished by the end of the day, I feel upset. What Jesus said to Martha, He says to me, “Pam, Pam, you’re worried and upset about many things.” It’s no coincidence I read this passage of Scripture on Monday, for it’s a picture of me. No doubt, this week has been busy. So busy. I’ve been so distracted and have accomplished nothing that I really wanted to. You know, the things that really matter. Those items that end up at the bottom of an undone list. Like pouring myself into my child.

The funny thing about the wilderness is, I believe it’s a necessary destination for each of God’s children. The only difference is the duration of the stay. Some may remain there forty years, like God’s chosen people. Or perhaps, some are more spiritually grounded and wander only a short while, like Jesus. He was in the wilderness forty days and nights. Or what about John the Baptist? I can’t be certain, but I believe he was in the wilderness until he was about 29 years old. And it was this John who was chosen by God for a particular task. But he had to be ready. And it was during his wilderness stay that God prepared him for what he was created to do…

And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High; for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.” Luke 1:76-79

You know, we’re no different than John the Baptist. Like John, God created each one of us for a specific purpose. While we were in our mothers’ womb, He knew what He had in mind for us. But through the course of life, we can become busy. We get off track from His course. And it’s those times we can feel like we’re roaming the wilderness. However, we can still be used by Him. Even when we have dry, parched seasons and we feel that we’re running and running but getting no where, even there… God can use us. Like John, we can be a voice of one crying out. Like John the Baptist, we too, can be heard.

A voice of one crying out: Prepare the way of the LORD in the wilderness; make a straight highway for our God in the desert. Isaiah 40:3

Yep, this week has been busy. My sister-in-law can attest to that. And I’m sure that through her busyness, she’s become dry. I bet she feels like she’s been running and running until she has nothing left to offer. I guarantee you by the end of her day, when all is quiet, she has regret. I’m sure she beats herself up, thinking, “I should have done this…” I know she wonders if she poured enough of herself into her children. And you know what? I think she has. I think God used her even while she trudged through a wilderness land. For she’s the voice of one crying out. Isaiah 53:1 says, “Who has believed what we have heard? And who has the arm of the LORD been revealed to?” And I think my niece. For she has heard her mother’s voice. And more importantly, she believes. For my niece’s heart overflowed onto her mirror sometime this past weekend…

Oh, the belief of this child! Who has believed what she has heard? She has. And who has the arm of the LORD been revealed to? To her. For she proclaims, “O Lord, how powerful are you! For how beloved I am! My God O mighty is the only one that is on top of all of us! O how I love Him!” You know, Isaiah 40:22 declares, “God is enthroned above the circle of the earth.” The writing on the wall (or mirror) essentially proclaims the same. God’s word is in this child. She is a voice of one crying out. For the One who is worthy of all praise will be praised. If we don’t open our mouths to do so, even the stones will cry out (Luke 19:40). And if we don’t open our mouths, even the children will cry out, for “You have taught children and infants to tell of your strength…” (Psalm 8:2).

Yes, it’s true. Mothers can become overtaken by hectic schedules. And it’s true that we can end up in a desert land. It’s a fact that we sometimes wander through the wilderness because of our overstuffed days… but those times are necessary. It’s a season of preparation. For it’s then that we’re strengthened and we grow. And it’s through our wilderness roaming that we turn to Him.

You know, every day we have a choice. We can be a Martha or a Mary (Luke 10:38-42). And no doubt, we will be both of these women throughout our journey. However, when we find ourselves in the way of Martha, let’s not beat ourselves up. Let’s not wallow in guilt and regret, thinking, “If only I did this…” Because praise God, today’s a new day! Today, may we opt to be like Mary and choose that which is better. For His word won’t be taken from us. And let’s take that which is better, and pour it into our children.

And for those who find themselves in the wilderness today, take heart. He can still use you. Like John, be that one. Be the voice of one crying out, “Prepare the way of the Lord…” I guarantee you, there will be someone to listen. And more importantly, there will be someone to believe. Like my niece. She believes.

And the child grew and became strong in spirit; and he lived in the wilderness until he appeared publicly to Israel. Luke 1:80

http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=He+reigns+Newsboys&qpvt=He+reigns+Newsboys&FORM=VDRE#view=detail&mid=8551B7A4DBAEE7909AD68551B7A4DBAEE7909AD6

I am Forgiven

October 25, 2013October 31, 2013by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

This past weekend was lovely. I gathered with close to thirty women in His name. We laughed. We cried. We shared. We sang. We studied God’s word. And we prayed. Sunday morning we talked about Mary, the mother of Jesus. And as I meditated on her, and thought about Him, my heart was moved. Tears hovered on the edges of my lashes as I gazed at pictures of Him, and for once, I was without words. Afterward, we shared communion. Just us women. And I don’t think communion has ever meant more to me. And I believe that’s because for the very first time, I see myself as I really am. A sinner. And for the very first time, perhaps I really believe it… that I am forgiven.

It was the previous week that God provided a vivid picture of me through my son. He’s been going through a shaky patch, birthed when he began staying after school. And for some odd reason – his faith in me has been shaken. The school actually called one afternoon because my son was in tears, terrified that I would forget him. I was almost speechless. Where in the world did this come from? First, I tried to comfort him. Then, I grilled him. And later, I exhorted him. But alas, my son remained weepy and attached for weeks. The only thing that consoled him was a note I had written and posted to the refrigerator in full view. It detailed the dates and times and the whens and wheres I would meet my son. This seemed to work.

Finally, when my son’s after school commitment was over, I tossed the note in the trash. I told him we don’t need it anymore. But to my dismay, his little face crumpled up, and tears spurted. He wanted that note back up. But I refused. I sat him on my kitchen counter and peered into his eyes. I cupped his cheek and said, “Don’t you know that your mama won’t forget you? Don’t you know that I’ll always be there to meet you? Don’t you trust me?” And mouth askew, he shook his little tear stained face back and forth to answer. No. And I was stunned for my son told me that he didn’t trust me. And as soon as I helped him off that counter, that little stinker proceeded on his own with paper and marker, and made his own chart for my use. See, my spoken words alone were not enough to boost his faith. He needed written words to give him comfort.

You know… one of the biggest questions that’s plagued me throughout my spiritual journey is, “Where is the love?” If I am really His girl, then why don’t I feel His unconditional love? And if I were truly His daughter, then why don’t I feel love towards every person I come into contact with? Furthermore, why have I held to a judgmental attitude all this time? And the answer to all these questions, I believe, is really quite simple. I think it has everything to do with what my little boy has been going through. For I’ve been lacking what he lacks. And it’s called trust. It’s called faith. Therein lies the real question, “Do I trust Him?”

Then one of the Pharisees invited Him to eat with him. He entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. And a woman in the town who was a sinner found out that Jesus was reclining at the table in the Pharisee’s house. She brought an alabaster jar of fragrant oil and stood behind Him at His feet, weeping, and began to wash His feet with her tears. She wiped His feet with the hair of her head, kissing them and anointing them with the fragrant oil. When the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he said to himself, “This man, if He were a prophet, would know who and what kind of woman this is who is touching Him—she’s a sinner!” Jesus replied to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he said, “say it.”

“A creditor had two debtors. One owed 500 denarii, and the other 50. Since they could not pay it back, he graciously forgave them both. So, which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “I suppose the one he forgave more.” “You have judged correctly,” He told him. Turning to the woman, He said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she, with her tears, has washed My feet and wiped them with her hair. You gave Me no kiss, but she hasn’t stopped kissing My feet since I came in. You didn’t anoint My head with olive oil, but she has anointed My feet with fragrant oil. Therefore I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; that’s why she loved much. But the one who is forgiven little, loves little.” Then He said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” Those who were at the table with Him began to say among themselves, “Who is this man who even forgives sins?” And He said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.” Luke 7:36-50

In truth, I have always more readily identified with the Pharisee in this story. But today… today, I finally see a glimpse of me in this forgiven woman. See, I read something last week. Quite some time ago, I participated in a study called “Forgiven and Set Free,” but I had forgotten what was written… “Still don’t feel forgiven? Then believe it. Just believe it.” Ah. Belief. First comes belief. Simply take Him at His word and trust that I am forgiven. Then comes love… the love that seems to have escaped me. For Jesus said, “…her many sins have been forgiven; that’s why she loved much.” That literally means, “Her love shows that she has been forgiven.” Later, Jesus told the woman that her faith has saved her. Her faith. Her trust.

You know, I was horrified when my son told me that he doesn’t trust me. He didn’t have enough faith in me that I would be there to meet him. He thought I would forget him, and so, a few written words on a piece of paper gave him comfort. Those written words increased his faith in me. Just as with me, faith comes by hearing and hearing by the word of God. And don’t you know that just as much as I comforted and grilled and exhorted my son, God does the same thing with me. Every bit as much as I want my son to believe in me, He wants me to believe in Him. He wants me to take His word for it, just as I expect my son to take me at mine.

Oh, what a picture. A sweet little boy sitting on a counter looking into his mama’s eyes. His little heart broken and shaken. He didn’t believe. And then, there’s me. A little girl sitting on a chair, looking into my Father’s eyes. My heart broken and shaken. I spoke words into my son’s heart, and God speaks the same into mine. All this time, He’s been saying to me… “Don’t you know that I won’t forget you? Don’t you know that I’ll always be there to meet you? Don’t you trust me, Pam? Don’t you believe Me?” For so long, He must have seen me looking back at Him, mouth askew, shaking my tear stained face back and forth in answer. No, God. I don’t believe You.

But today… today, is different. I say, “Yes, Abba. Yes, Daddy, I believe you! I am forgiven.”

And His daughter will walk forth in love. For my love shows that I am forgiven.

“Ah!” His disciples said. “Now You’re speaking plainly and not using any figurative language. Now we know that You know everything and don’t need anyone to question You. By this we believe that You came from God.” Jesus responded to them, “Do you now believe?” John 16:29-31

http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=He+is+with+us&FORM=VIRE1#view=detail&mid=F129ADE72250D5534FCEF129ADE72250D5534FCE

You’re not me…

July 6, 2013by Pam Anderson2 Comments

At times, my son would belt out, “You’re not me! You don’t know what I feel. You don’t feel like I feel.” Or something very similar. And rather than feel empathetic to his plight, I always feel angry when he says this. Because I’m the mom. Obviously, I know I am not him. And obviously, I don’t feel exactly as he does. I know this. I guess my ire is induced by the fact that he doesn’t realize that I do in fact know. I know. But as I was reduced to tears this morning while applying my green eye shadow, the same thoughts coursed through my mind. “You don’t know how I feel!” To no one specifically… just a silent, desperate cry to my bathroom walls. “You don’t know!”

I’ll soon descend to the basement for an all day cleaning fest, so the eye shadow is definitely not a necessity. But today, I feel vulnerable. I had my hair cut shorter yesterday, and with my neck exposed, I feel like I need a mask. And not just because of the extra skin that’s visible, but I feel as if my heart is on display, too. I’m wearing it on my sleeve, and so, the mask is to cover not just a new vulnerability… but a dull ache in my heart. Inexplicable, indescribable, heartache. I don’t know why. Just tears and sadness. And loneliness. More so than usual, as I was choked up and tears spewed while I was on the phone with my employer this week. I can assure you, this was a first. All I could do was mutter, “Oh, good grief,” followed by a curt, “Bye.” He must have been dumbfounded. And perhaps, embarrassed by my emotional display. A bit of drama on my part?

I am weary from my groaning; with my tears I dampen my pillow and drench my bed every night. My eyes are swollen from grief; they grow old because of all my enemies.” Psalm 6:6

The truth is, I am depressed. And since this is something I come back to (over and over again), I can actually sense the darkness before it envelops me now. But for the life of me, I can’t seem to escape! I just let it surround me rather than run for my life. And because I get depressed, there is shame. Because I know. I know! I have no earthly right to feel as I do. My two aunts who lost their children would tell me so. My friends who see me with a great husband, an adorable child, a great property and the best job in the world would tell me so. As a matter of fact, it was Thursday evening that my brother said, “You’ve got it made, you just don’t know it.” He was referring to my job. And he’s quite right. But inside, I’m screaming, “You’re not me! You don’t know what I feel. You don’t feel like I feel.” Just like my son exclaims to me. And just as I feel indifferent to his plight, so would my brother be to mine. Because the truth is… I am blessed. So blessed. And yet, I am depressed. I feel lonesome.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Facebook is one of the loneliest places in the world. Because for the one who begins to feel sorry for herself, she can be thrown so deep into a pit, she can barely see out. And with each glance at the images of happy, filled lives, more and more dirt gets heaped on top of her. And with each visit to Facebook, she can begin to feel embittered by what she sees. Can anyone relate to this? Is there anyone out there who feels like I feel? Is there anyone who has every blessing – someone who God has graced with a wonderful life – and yet, bitterness abounds? I feel there is. Because as much as this blog, this journey to the center of my soul, is just that (a journey to my innermost being), I feel there must be others just like me. And that, just as I am discovering the truth about God and me, there are those who are discovering the truth about God and themselves right alongside me. There must be.

The truth about God & me is that I love Him. To the best of my ability. And that despite an ever deepening relationship with my LORD, I am still plagued by a darkness. This is the truth. And so, I have to ask… Are you like me? Do you feel as I do? Because if you do feel the same, I know. I know. And believe it or not, I think there is purpose in it. There must be.

You know, God made a promise to me through His word. And it’s a promise we can all claim. God told me that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. The truth is, I already have seen it. If I could just believe it… if I could just live it… if I could just realize it. He says… Wait on the LORD, and to be of good courage, and that He will strengthen my heart. He tells me… Wait, I say, on the LORD! And so, I shall. Because when I find it… whatever it is that plagues me… I shall be free. And when I am truly free, oh, what a story I’ll have. Yes, darkness may descend today, but I have hope that He will shed His light.

And for now, I’ll let God quiet my cries. Because He knows. He knows. He knows how I feel, for He lives in me. And He knows why I do and say what I do. He assures me. Yes, He is not me, yet… He is part of me. And He knows how I feel. He knows. And in truth, that’s all that matters.

While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head. Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly. “Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” Mark 14:3-9

Happy Mother’s Day

May 10, 2013by Pam Anderson1 Comment

Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
“Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.” Proverbs 31:28-29

I wrote something in October… for my mother. I wanted her to know what she means to me. I wanted her to know how I feel about her. And I believe it would be appropriate to share with every mother… because what my mom did for me is what we all do for our very own. We lay down our lives for our children. Because we love them that much… to death. May you be blessed by this, and may you be blessed this Mother’s Day…

My Mother – A Depiction of Jesus Christ

I’ve been on a quest the past couple of years. My mission has been to know God, my Creator, in a way I had never experienced Him before. I wanted to understand just what it is He expects and requires of me while I roam this earth. I have been drawing nearer to God, in a way I never had before.

This past year, I’ve come to realize that what God wants is quite simple. He doesn’t ask a lot from me, but then again, He asks everything from me. Quite a paradox. At the basest level, God calls me to just a few things… I am to love the LORD above all else, believe what God says about His Son and be reconciled to Him through Jesus, and to love my neighbor like myself. I am to be merciful and just, and walk humbly with God.

Of course, I wanted to go deeper. It wasn’t enough for me to know what He wanted… I also wanted to know just how to do these things. And fortunately, He gave me a model to follow. God gave me His Son, the perfect sacrifice, as an example of how I should live. He is my road map for navigating this highway called life. And Jesus shows me just what God expects of me… everything.

Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends. John 15:13

This is what Jesus did. He laid down His life for all mankind. And in contemplating how one lays down a life today, I was startled when I realized God had given me another example years ago. My mother.

My mother was a broken woman when I was growing up. She had a hard life, and for quite some time she was bitter and worn out. I know that at one point, she felt God hated her. That must have been because she was so weary of the pain and constant struggle of which her life consisted. She suffered. But you know, Jesus felt just the same.

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Mark 15:34

Jesus had to suffer for our sins upon a cross, so that we could have life. At His darkest point, He felt that God abandoned Him. In hindsight, I can see Jesus in my mother. She must have felt the same… she suffered so as she laid down her life. And she gave up hers so that my brother and I could have a life. No greater love hath a woman than this.

For my mother’s birthday, I want to give her the gift of this revelation. I want her to know what great purpose her life has held. God has used her in a tremendous way. Today, He has shown me what a great sacrifice my mother made. She laid down her very own life, just for me. Just like Jesus did. I want her to know God pointedly revealed that to me today… And He wants me to do the same for my son. I will follow her example, and lay down my life for my child. Perhaps one day, my son will see Jesus in me, as I do in my mother.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall….

May 9, 2013by Pam Anderson2 Comments

I love cartoons. And I think we’re all familiar with the infamous lines from Walt Disney’s movie, Snow White: “Mirror, mirror on the wall… who is the fairest one of all?” And as we look in our mirrors today, don’t we all want to see a pleasant face staring back at us? Don’t we all want to be the fairest one of all? Come on now… isn’t there a small vain streak in each one of us? Well, speaking as a forty year old woman, I can tell you that looking in a mirror today is not as fun as it used to be. In fact, I do not enjoy it one little bit, no, I do not. Because I don’t like what I see looking back. Frankly, age is beginning to make it’s appearance in the form of lines and sags and puffs that used to seem as far fetched as this fairy tail I’m referring to. Oh yes, mirror, mirror… it seems there’s no avoiding them. But fortunately, we can avert our eyes when we want to.

Surprisingly, however, I am finding reflections of me coming from another direction here lately. And you know, there’s no turning aside from this mirror image. No, when my little boy looks up at me, I cannot turn away. And in his small features, I’m beginning to see traces of me. And that makes me glad. BUT… I’m also seeing something else reflected back at me. And honestly, this doesn’t make me so glad. Because what I’m seeing is an ungrateful attitude and an unthankful heart. And you know, it’s not his fault. Because he’s just a child. And the sad truth is our children learn by example. The truth is our children are simply reflections of us and if we’re not careful, they may learn all the wrong things. Because no matter what you say to them, they are simply going to imitate what they see. And the ugly truth is… what I see in my son that I cannot abide by, is the very thing in me that God cannot abide by. And if I want to see changes in my son, well, it has to begin with me.

But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfection. And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful. Colossians 3:14-15

I’ve been memorizing Scripture for months now. And periodically I go through them all, hoping to keep them fresh in my heart and mind. And without fail when I get to the above verse, I forget the ending. I cannot remember, “and be thankful,” for the life of me. And when I contemplate this, I see that it’s not just the words I’m forgetting… it’s my whole being that’s forgetting it. Not only do I forget to say, “be thankful,” but I simply forget being thankful. In cultivating my heart, thankfulness has been left out. And this shouldn’t be. Not for me… and not for my son. And so, things will be changing around here. Today is the day I am purposing in my heart to be thankful. Because in reality, that’s all that God is concerned with… the heart. He doesn’t care what image the mirror on the wall casts back, but He does care about the image our lives reflect. And our daily walk will reveal the truth about what lies deep inside us.

Rejoice Always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

The truth is, I haven’t been rejoicing much and my prayers have been isolated to the morning. And I surely haven’t been giving thanks in everything. The truth is, I’ve lived most of my life in complete opposition to what I’m told to do in 1st Thessalonians. Because I’ve lived so much of my life pining away for something I didn’t possess. At one time, it was a baby… later, it was Virginia… later, status and a name… and later still, a house… and then, another house. You see, I’ve always been a glass half-empty kind of girl or the grass is always greener. And that just shouldn’t be for a child of God. And when I look at my son, I see he’s turning into a glass half-empty kind of boy. He too, is beginning to pine for things thinking the grass will be greener when he gets there. And I’m the one who’s making him that way. He’s my mirror image… What I see in him just shouldn’t be and it won’t be. Because it’s not too late.

This day, I choose to be thankful and grateful. Because God has blessed me abundantly. This day, I choose to open my eyes to the gifts – big and small – that God has graced me with. And there’s a lot. And sure enough, when my heart begins to change from one that pines for what it doesn’t have, to one that is blown away by the goodness of God… well, I’m going to see a change in my son. Because he’s going to imitate me. His little heart will resemble mine. And when my reflection shines back at me – through him – I’ll smile at what I see.

Mirror, mirror, little boy… may your heart and my heart reflect God’s joy.

The Persistent Son

May 8, 2013by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

You know, I feel that I’ve had the same conversation with my son at least 10 times now. One of those times occurred this morning, and our talk went something like this:

Son: “Can I take my Lego book to school today?”

Me: “No, you can’t! I’ve told you that before.”

Son: “But why?” followed by some sniffing and whining noises and a sad face…

Me: “Because it’s a nice book, you may rip the pages, it’s too big…” Then I remembered that I’m the mom, “Because I said so!”

Son: “Remember, I took that other big book.” more sniffling and whining noises accompanied by the sad face…

Me: “NO! Furthermore, if you ask me about that book one more time, I’m going to spank you!”

This ended the discussion. As my son completely soaked the end of his sleeve during his daily grooming session, I had to help him with changing it. See, all the discussion, whining and sniffling was slowing him down and it was time to go. And of course, my fingernail scratched his elbow. There was no mark by the way, and yet the grazing of my fingernail caused him to tear up. The reason for the tears was his external pain, right, and had absolutely nothing to do with my saying no to the Lego book. Right? Wrong. The tears were because he didn’t get to do something he wanted. And the aloof, cold good-bye I received this morning had everything to do with me not granting his wishes. And you know… this is such a picture of me and God!!

I’ve been going through my old journals, and I am so absorbed with the Summer of 2010. And I see from this time period that I cried out to God daily about me not being in my hometown. I wanted to go home so badly, my request made it into my prayer every day. I wonder what God heard… possibly something like this:

Me: “Can I go home to Virginia to live today?”

God: “No, you can’t… I’ve told you that before.”

Me: “But why?” followed by some sniffing and whining noises and a sad face…

God: “Because Virginia is too big for you right now… You just can’t handle it!”

Me: “Oh, God, please… I’m so sad. PLEEEEAAASSSSEEE can I go back now?” more sniffling and whining noises that soon escalated to wailing and thrashing. And of course, a sad face.

God: “NO! Furthermore, if you ask me about Virginia one more time, I’m going to spank you!”

Hmmm…. I just have to wonder about that. And so, this is what I’ve surmised. God wants me to ask for what I want. Because He is my heavenly Father. And furthermore, I believe with all my heart and soul that He wants me to be persistent with my requests. Because Scripture points to this. It’s in the eleventh chapter of Luke that the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray. And that He did as I believe we’re all familiar with the Lord’s prayer. But do you know that immediately following that model prayer, there is a parable about a persistent friend? Luke 11:5-10 says:

And He said to them, “Which of you shall have a friend, and go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine has come to me on his journey, and I have nothing to set before him’; and he will answer from within and say, ‘Do not trouble me; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give to you’? I say to you, though he will not rise and give to him because he is his friend, yet because of his persistence he will rise and give him as many as he needs. So I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.

You know, God wants us to come to Him with our requests. Because He loves us. He wants to give us our heart’s desire. It’s just that sometimes the answer is, “No,” or “Not yet.” Because God can see the big picture and we can’t. Our heavenly Father knows what’s good for us, and what’s harmful. Just like us as parents. I would love to let my son take that book on the bus. But I know it’s very large and he’s very small. I know that the way he would have to hold it and turn the pages would cause damage to the book. And so I say no…. for now.

I’ve tried to explain it to him, but he’s too young to understand. See, he thinks he would be careful. He believes that he’s responsible enough to handle it… but as his mom, I know otherwise. I can see the big picture. However, I now see that what my son is doing is good. It’s biblical. Of course he comes to me full of faith and asks again and again. Because I’m his mother. He asks over and over, “Can I take the book,” because he believes that one day my answer will be different. And you know, I think that’s true. How dare I break his spirit and his faith by threatening a spanking. Because you know, one day he’ll be older. One day he’ll be bigger and more careful and more responsible. One day he’ll be able to handle what he’s asking for. And so, don’t stop, dear son. Ask and it will be given to you… seek and you will find… knock and it will be opened to you…

Be persistent, dear son. I say to you, ask again and again… because perhaps one day my answer will take you by surprise. Perhaps one day, you’ll hear “Yes.” For when you can handle it, why, it will be my pleasure to grant you your heart’s desire.

“If a son asks for bread from any father among you, will he give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent instead of a fish? Or if he asks for an egg, will he offer him a scorpion? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him!” Luke 11:11-13

History repeats itself… or so I’ve heard.

April 18, 2013by Pam AndersonLeave a Comment

History repeats itself, right? A popular saying that originated from I don’t know where, but I’ve heard it from more than one person. So it must be true, right? Yes, history repeats. The newest saying I’ve heard more than one time is insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but hoping for a different result. Well… if that’s true, then quite clearly, I’m insane. Because after reviewing my journal from 2010, and comparing it to where I am today, I am doing the same thing again and again. And no surprise, the end result is always the same. The most damning piece of evidence was laid bare yesterday morning. The truth is, I hurt my son. It wasn’t a big hurt, but when it comes down to it, a hurt is a hurt – big or small. It happened during the mad dash of getting ready for school. Time just got away from me, and I cut it so close that I had to dress my son. Because bless his little soul, he only moves at one speed called “taking his time.” As I hastily pulled up his jeans, I felt resistance but tugged anyway. Well, his little foot was caught and it hurt him. And so, because I neglected to manage my time, I caused my son pain in the ensuing madness. And honestly, I think his feelings were hurt more than anything. Obviously, I felt like the worst mother in the whole world. And do you want to hear the most awful part? It was a couple of hours later as I perused through my old journal notes of September 15, 2010 that I realized this wasn’t the first time I had done this. I read my own confession: “rushed and hurt my son.” It’s a fact that I had the same encounter with my son two and a half years later. Thus, it is a proven truth… history does repeat itself. I felt like a terrible mother then, and I feel like one now. And because I am doing the same thing over and over again (rushing in the morning, but hoping for a different outcome), some would classify me as insane. And I would have to agree with them.

If I’ve learned anything in my journey with God, it’s that there are no coincidences. And when He wants you to see something about yourself, He’ll bring it right to you. He’ll show you a picture of yourself that you cannot deny. My reflected image came by way of a piece of pottery of all things. It’s the bowl I described in “A Bowl Girl.” I realize that I am the bowl. Just not as it is in its present condition. In no way do I resemble that bowl as it rests on my countertop reflecting rays of light. No, I resemble the bowl as it looked some months ago… when it was high and lifted up on the top of my fridge, collecting so much dust that even if the light had reached its surface, it wouldn’t have glimmered at all. Yes, I am just like that bowl when it was on display… just like a Pharisee. And so, I cannot say I was too surprised when I found notes in my old journal that could have been written by my own hand today. Everything that’s happening in my life today is mimicking what took place then. Again, it is proven… history repeats itself. Because I am struggling with the same thing over and over again. As always, same outcome. This is insanity.

Yesterday morning, I wondered about my being a Pharisee and a hypocrite. Because I had confronted that particular issue last year. And through reviewing my very old journal, it appears it was my struggle two and a half years ago, too. And until this past week, I didn’t really think I was a Pharisee… again. And as I ponder my past, it becomes clear how I arrived to today… to insanity. See, I am a legal assistant and work for a lawyer. The law is important. I’ve always been a rule-follower at heart. Even as a teen and young adult (when I got into things I shouldn’t), deep down I had fear because I knew there was a right and wrong. My fear was that I would get into trouble for breaking rules. And so years later, after I became His and when I finally came to a point in which I was desperate to know God, I sought knowledge. Basically, I wanted to know what His rules were. Because rules I could follow. And although seeking God’s law is not a bad thing, it can be dangerous for someone like me… a rule follower. Because acquired knowledge can cause someone like me to become arrogant and a know-it-all. It can cause someone like me to be prideful. From experience, I know one can begin adhering to one’s own set of scales of justice. And woe to anyone who falls short, because judgment will follow. I know, because this is exactly what happened to me then, it’s what happened to me a year ago, and apparently, it’s happened to me recently. I cannot deny my own handwriting. And so there’s no denying that I am a modern day Pharisee, repeating the history of Pharisees (religious leaders) from long ago. My attitude no different than theirs, and this is insanity!

Pharisees knew the law better than anyone else, and they followed it to the letter… but, their heart’s were unmoved. Pharisees lacked mercy, and when they came face to face with Jesus, they didn’t know Him and His righteousness. Because they had their own self-righteousness. And this is what Jesus had to say to or about them: they trusted in themselves that they were righteous, they despised others, they exalted themselves and thus were abased, they were those who justified themselves before men (but God knew their hearts), they were lovers of money and turned their noses up at Jesus, and they held to what was highly esteemed before men (but was, and is, an abomination before God). A Pharisee knew God’s greatest commandment was to love God above EVERYTHING, and to love his neighbor as himself… but he wanted to clarify and dispute and test Jesus and justify himself. The Pharisee said, “And who is my neighbor?” It’s evidenced that he knew the correct answer when Jesus asked “who was neighbor to him who fell?” The Pharisee said, “He who showed mercy on him.” But head knowledge does not always reach the heart.

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other men-extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I possess.’ And the tax collector, standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be abased, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Luke 18:10-14

You know, in Jesus’ day, the Pharisee lacked conviction. Because in his eyes, he did no wrong. And it was two and a half years ago when I asked the question within my journal, “Am I a hypocrite… a Pharisee?” One of the most condemning phrases I found to confirm my suspicion was “lack of conviction.” At that time, I knew I judged people. And yet, rather than feel bad about it, I felt justified in my thinking. Because I thought they didn’t measure up. Remember… the Pharisee adhered to his own set of scales.

Like a Pharisee, I know God’s commands and can follow all the outward rules. I can appear very devout, but what about my insides… what about my heart? Like a Pharisee, I am often unmoved, unloving and unmerciful. I’m just like that bowl I kept way up high on the fridge. It was there for display only… cold and hard to the touch. The bowl didn’t know it was useless up high. The Pharisees didn’t know they were useless to God either. And until now, I thought I was. But, history repeats… it’s insanity.

When I was a young girl, my grandfather, Eddie, used to call out to me, “Whoa, Pam!” Sounds similar to what Jesus called out to the Pharisees, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” Maybe Eddie wasn’t simply calling to me after all… perhaps God gave him insight as to what my future held, and just maybe he was calling out warning instead, “Woe, Pam!” The good news is, whether then or now, I’ve been warned. Because today is the day I see. And the truth is, it’s not at all about history repeating itself… or being insane. Quite frankly, it’s called lack of repentance. It’s called choosing to live in sin. Because to him who knows to do good, and doesn’t… it is sin. In His mercy, God showed me then, and again today. I can no longer deny the truth of what I am… a hypocrite and a Pharisee. This was true two and a half years ago, it was true a year ago… and it’s true again today. I’ve been doing the same thing again and again, hoping for another outcome. They say that’s insanity but today I know better. And the good news is, history does not have to repeat itself. He gives us the choice. And so, I know what I must do… it’s time to stop the insanity… it’s time to REPENT.