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The Good Shepherd’s Pasture

In 2011, our family moved to another state so that my husband, Andrew, could pioneer a new ministry on a college campus. Though unplanned, this change in address also brought a change in our denomination. On one of our first Sunday mornings in our new town, we sat down in the pews of First Presbyterian Church, and I gave my husband’s hand a squeeze. He nodded knowingly in agreement. This was going to be our home. Except one (big) problem for these two Southern Baptists: What to do about infant baptism? I loved the liturgy, agreed with the theology, but I had some problems with the sprinkling of those babies. Did the parents presume these were saving waters? Did they think this was their child’s ticket to salvation to be cashed in at confirmation class? Was it all just a stuffy tradition? Very slowly, I began to intellectually understand why one would choose to baptize their children. I understood the concept of the visible church (church membership) and the invisible church (redeemed hearts). I could make the links between circumcision in the Old Testament with baptism in the New, and I could see how baptism was now a marker showing who belonged to this visible church. I saw no interruptions in Scripture, where families were traditionally dealt with as households. And this made sense to me—that because my children lived in a household of faith, they were set apart in some way. Baptism was a sign to the world and to our children that they were a significant part of the church; they belonged there. But then there was a moment when all of this clicked in my gut, which was a different sort of understanding. A pastor said something to me that changed my whole perspective on my children’s place in the church. He said that one of the best things that we can do for our children is this: Make sure they don’t feel as though we are pushing them outside the gates of the church, and then asking them to find their way back in. They should hear the gospel with clarity, while experiencing the safety of a covenant community. That image of my children being welcomed into the gates of the church settled my heart and gave me a new picture to understand what it meant for them to be in a covenant family...

The Good Shepherd’s Pasture2022-05-07T22:34:38+00:00

The Very Near Word in our Wilderness Sufferings

And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. (Deuteronomy 8:3) “I cried myself to sleep every night with the Psalms.” Mrs. Sarah, who shared these words with our Bible study group, knows what it looks like to spend an unexpected season in the wilderness of suffering. Not long after World War II, when she was a young mother with two young children, Mrs. Sarah needed to return to school to finish her teaching certificate so that she could help support her family. She packed her bag and moved eighty miles away from home and family to complete her final year of college. In this lonely and difficult season, Mrs. Sarah turned to the nourishment she knew she needed, God’s Word. Anyone who has spent much time in the wilderness of suffering knows the humbling that comes during crisis. Stripped of the familiarities on which we often depend for comfort, we learn that we do not, in fact, live by bread alone. Deuteronomy 8 reminds us that in the wilderness, God did not merely humble his people, he also fed them. He fed them physically with something called manna, a word that in the original Hebrew literally means, “What’s this?” It was a food unlike anything the Israelites had ever heard of, seen, or tasted. It fell from the sky, and it looked something like flaky frosty cereal but was a lot more nutritious! God fed his people physically with this strange food, and he fed them spiritually with his Word. In our own wilderness of suffering, we are humbled, and our hunger and thirst for good news intensifies. More powerfully than any IV fluid, God’s Word drips into our hearts and minds to energize us with the faith, hope, and love we desperately need. Faith is strengthened by Scripture's true redemption stories...

The Very Near Word in our Wilderness Sufferings2022-05-07T22:35:34+00:00

What is Real Love Anyway?

As a little girl, I always dreamed of the perfect man that I would someday marry. I mean, what girl doesn’t do that? It started out as me thinking it would be so fun to play house with someone who was like my daddy. Loving, fun, and always looking for ways to help his children.  During my teenage years and even into college, my innocent yearnings for a husband quickly went from cute to obsessed. Thinking about this mystery man for so many years while simultaneously listening to the world and its views of marriage deafened my ears to what God’s word says about love. You see, I was fooling myself into thinking that the “perfect” man would completely satisfy me in every way. Ultimately, I believed my husband would be not only my all satisfying joy in this life, but he would be my savior.  I would never admit that back then though. In my naivety, I truly didn’t believe the deep sin in my heart was even there.  On my wedding day, I couldn’t believe the man I had prayed for so long was finally waiting for me at the end of what seemed like the longest aisle on earth. I just wanted to run down it and jump into his arms. The Lord has been so sweet to me in providing me with a husband who loves Him deeply and leads our marriage in ways that continuously remind me of our end goal on this earth.  Not even a month into our marriage, I experienced many feelings and frustrations that my poor husband so graciously loved me through. So many changes were happening so fast. So many expectations had gone unmet. One morning I was spending time with the Lord and it hit me: I had been expecting my husband to be my savior. I expected him to love me perfectly, keep me full of joy at all times, and satisfy every deep need and desire that was nestled down in my sinful human heart.  Psalm 16:11 tells us “You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” The living, breathing Word of God makes it so clear that He is the only one who can provide fullness of joy. I am forever grateful that the Lord chose to draw me to him. Is love and joy being married? Being falsely satisfied by material things? Achieving a certain social status? Not even a little bit...

What is Real Love Anyway?2022-05-07T22:36:22+00:00

The Mixed Messages of Welcoming and Belonging

One warm summer day, many years ago, when our youngest son Tim was a teenager, we were holding our annual “Down Syndrome Extravaganza” at our house. Most people would call it a picnic. However, “extravaganza” always seemed like a better descriptor to our family as the gathering of so many families, with so many children with Down syndrome and all of their siblings simply offered the opportunity for unexpected events to arise. We had some years that we hired neighborhood teenagers to ensure we didn’t lose any “runners” in the chaos. One year, Tim had a good friend with Down’s who was very interested in movies and proceeded to empty all 50-75 DVDs from their respective boxes, scattering them randomly all over the floor while seeking the perfect fit for his viewing interests. On another occasion, we even had a rabid racoon appear on our front porch while friends were arriving with their families and food in tow. As we’ve said many times, “It is never a dull moment here!” My favorite DSE event, however, was the year that Tim was giving tours of his room to guests as they arrived. He’d redecorated his room with Elvis Presley paraphernalia, and was eager to share his collection. Visitors were only allowed in one at a time. He even asked me to serve as his “bouncer.” I had fun standing at the door watching as Tim talked with each visitor. As one of our friends lingered in the room making conversation, Tim finally looked at him and declared, “I’m sorry Mr. Nolt, but your tour is over. Don’t make me call security.” My “bouncer role” quickly reverted to “Mom mode” and Tim and I had a quick little chat about what it means to show hospitality to our guests. Tim was definitely giving folks mixed messages. The truth is, we all give (and receive) mixed messages to (and from) others fairly frequently...

The Mixed Messages of Welcoming and Belonging2022-05-07T22:37:09+00:00

The Beautiful Surrender

I witnessed a beautiful surrender one afternoon while waiting for the bus to come up the road. In the center of our front yard stands a large October Glory maple tree. This tree is the last to change colors every fall, but once the leaves do change color, the tree is the brightest and most beautiful fall tree on our street. As I waited for the bus, I watched the beautiful surrender of one of those tiny orange leaves. The wind came and that little leaf could not hold on any longer. The wind carried the leaf off the branch and gently swirled the leaf to the ground. The leaf did what it was made to do—and the tree would continue to survive even after the surrendering of this leaf. The October Glory will be dormant for a season, but soon it would bear new blossoms and leaves in the spring. Beautiful Surrenders Sometimes on this side of heaven, faithful people face seasons of beautiful surrenders. In the surrendering, God grows His people into maturity. My family faced a season such as this last year. I am a PCA pastor’s wife and a mother to four elementary-aged children. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of thirty-three and passed away when she was forty. I was thirty-five at the time and I knew I carried a gene mutation which increased my risk for breast cancer. My doctors and genetic counselors strongly advised me to have a bilateral prophylactic mastectomy. This was an emotionally and physically painful—but beautiful surrender of my physical body. It brought me back to the woundedness of my past and tugged on the heart strings of my story. But in the surrender of my physical self, God was faithful to our family and as we only had Him to cling to—He grew all of us in our faith and trust in Him. A Beautiful Surrender to an Eternal Perspective This life is an entire journey of letting go. Just like the October Glory in my front yard, we are always shedding pieces of the old self as we grow into Christlikeness....

The Beautiful Surrender2022-05-07T22:37:52+00:00

Your Grief is Your Own

RENEE MATHIS|CONTRIBUTOR “Your grief is your own.” These words, spoken by a dear friend this past fall could not have come at a more perfect time. In less than a month’s time, I was hit with a series of losses that knocked me flat. My younger brother took his own life. My dog died. My doctor’s office called with concerning lab results. What is a Christian supposed to do at times like this? Where is the instruction manual? I wasn’t sure what suffering for the glory of God was supposed to look like, but I knew I didn’t have much choice but to walk the path set before me. I’m not an expert in grief. I know there are others who have suffered great losses and are even now facing circumstances that would threaten to undo any of us. At the same time, as one who has traveled through a season of loss, may I share a few things I learned? It is my prayer that the Lord can use my tears for the good of his Kingdom. Suffering Online In today’s hyper-connected online world, we have the capacity to share news quickly. While places like Facebook can be hotbeds of anger and ugly discourse, I encountered something entirely different when my brother Jody died. Every single post—“I’m sorry for your loss” or “Your family is in my prayers”— was a reminder of a friendship, a relationship, a connection with someone who cared what I was going through. If you are ever in a place where you wonder if it makes a difference whether you say anything or not, please hear me. It does. It matters. It comforts. Those words helped to heal my aching heart. Suffering in Public Grief has a way of rearing its unexpected head in the most unlikely of places. I so wanted to worship and be with my local body of Christ, yet I couldn’t hold it together through even one hymn without breaking out the Kleenex. In the early days, the tears would come—and I would let them—at the most inconvenient times and places. This phase didn’t last forever, but I learned to yield to God’s good timing and trust that this was all part of the grieving process...

Your Grief is Your Own2022-05-07T22:38:49+00:00

Because Christ Sat Down

There’s a canvas hanging in my bedroom, one given to me by a friend. She allowed me to pick a verse, and I chose this passage: “But when this priest had offered for all time one sacrifice for sins he sat down at the right hand of God…for by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy” (Hebrews 10:12-14). It never fails to amaze me when I consider the contrast of two types of priests. Old Testament Priesthood Old Testament priests had many duties including representing the people before God and offering the various sacrifices prescribed in the law. If you’ve ever done a study in Leviticus, you know that these sacrifices were many. They were also unending; the priests had to repeat them day after day. You and I can relate to unending jobs: unending laundry, unending meal prep and clean up, unending vacuuming. Priests also stood to indicate that their job was never finished. That’s because the people continued to sin, requiring repeated sacrifices. These sacrifices were earthly and temporal, and therefore not effective. The blood of bulls and goats could not satisfy the wrath of God; it could not fully pay the debt for sin. God used this sacrificial system to burn into his people’s hearts the reality of their fallenness, to show them that they needed not just a temporary sacrifice, but a perfect and forever sacrifice. They needed their sin covered once and for all. The book of Hebrews looks at the Old Testament sacrificial system and unpacks its limitations and flaws. It shows us how it was temporary—how it pointed to something greater.

Because Christ Sat Down2022-05-07T22:39:31+00:00

God Knows Your Story

“…in your book were written, every one of them,     the days that were formed for me,     when as yet there was none of them.”  Psalm 139:16b Deep in the human heart is a desire to hear, and sometimes tell, a good story. It’s there from the beginning, as babies, sitting on a lap for story time. It's there when we’re growing up, reading books, watching television, going to movies. It’s there when we get old, telling our own story to others, reminiscing with siblings about a shared childhood, or reliving long-ago moments when our present life is fading before our eyes. You Have a Story The blockbuster Broadway hit Hamilton capitalizes on this universal human desire by telling the story of an often-ignored founding father and his unknown but impressive wife, Eliza. After telling their fascinating story for more than two hours, the company asks the audience, “Who tells your story?” It’s powerful and poignant. It grabs your heart and reminds you that you do indeed have a story that may be someday forgotten to history but is equally important to every other story of anyone who’s ever lived. For those who cry easily, like I do, have a tissue handy for this one. After hearing the powerful closing number of this musical, it’s almost inevitable to ask, “Who tells your story?” But a bigger and more revealing question might be, “Who knows your story?” Your whole story, that is. Your siblings? Your spouse? Your BFF? The fact is, no one knows your whole story. People will come and go in your life, entering at a certain chapter and departing in another, knowing part of your story and hopefully understanding you better because of it. Some will see only a paragraph or two; others will be there for nearly the entire book but are only skimming your narrative. Sadly, some may glance at the cover and believe that they know your story without actually understanding the characters or plot. God Knows Your Story But God knows your story....

God Knows Your Story2022-05-07T22:40:11+00:00

For the Mom Who Longs to Be Seen

It's that middle place for children, right after self-awareness and just before it's singed with pride and embarrassment: When they look back at you after a great or terrible act with a question in their eyes, "Did you see that?" Of course, this carries far past the little years, but there is this short period of time where their need to be seen is so... seen. They threw a ball! Did you see that? They pushed their brother. Did you see that? Their chubby little fingers stacked the third block and it didn't fall—head turns and eyes grow: Did you see that? Our seeing their accomplishment actually completes it for them. But it's more than that, isn't it? They feel at home in our gaze; they feel like a whole person with our eyes on them. To be seen is to be. We would be fools to think that we somehow grew out of this basic human need. We've just figured out how to shade our eyes so that no one sees us looking around, trying to catch another's gaze: "Did anyone see that?" Longing to Be Seen We can feel this sorely, though not solely, as mothers—when every part of our body and brain and soul just needs to lie down, and we can't even remember what made us so tired in the first place. We hurt from loving, we ache from longing, and no matter how affirmative our husbands might be, we can still feel unseen. (Is anyone watching me make four lunches at once?) We may (I have) turn to sharing our moments on social media. Maybe a few hundred hearts and thumbs will quench this thirst. Maybe a comment of solidarity will pick me up off the ground. But it can't last, can it? I can't hold that person's face in my hands and fix their gaze forever. It's not just the hard moments that we wish for others to see—like when two people need their bottoms wiped at the exact same time (always, always... law of nature!). But it's the beautiful moments, too: when your baby hugs your leg and says, "I love you!" for the first time, unprompted. Oh, did anyone see that?! And so, like I experienced as a young mother, our brains can spiral down into a philosophical depression—is my life of motherhood the proverbial tree that falls in the forest? Do these common, everyday moments mean anything outside of someone's gaze?...

For the Mom Who Longs to Be Seen2022-05-07T22:41:44+00:00
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