Forgetful

Us humans are a forgetful bunch, especially when we think forgetting comes to our advantage. My example this time? When Jesus came upon the woman caught in adultery, and He drew a line in the sand. He told the crowd that whoever was without sin should cast the first stone.

This left all of the people there without much to say. They couldn’t argue with him and they had no good defense in light of their sinfulness. So they dropped their stones. How could you do anything else? I couldn’t stand there next to Jesus, hear His words about “he who is without sin, cast the first stone,” and then hurl a stone.

But did dropping their stones change the fact that the woman had sinned? No. And while Jesus didn’t condone a bunch of sinners stoning a fellow sinner, He didn’t shy away from the fact that her sin was still sin. In fact, the part we like to forget or leave out, is where He approached her and said, “Go forth, and sin no more.” Wait, what? He didn’t make an excuse for her sin. He didn’t tell her to live in her sin and enjoy it. He didn’t empathize that “oh I know, sin is fun darling. That’s okay. Just you know, don’t get caught next time.” He told her, without pomp or fanfare, to go and sin no more.

I think we can all learn from this story. First, we must drop our weapons. We are all sinners. We are all guilty. But Jesus paid for our sin. (Thank God.) Stoning another sinner, literally or figuratively will not get anyone, anywhere. Second, we must call sin, sin. And when our sin is called sin, we must not ignore, defend, or make excuses for it. Jesus works in our hearts and calls sin what it is, and tugs us toward doing better. Are we going to ignore him?

Time and place is relevant, people. If we are going to speak life to those around us, we have to consider time & place. And the relationship. I cannot walk up to someone randomly and say, “I know what your sin is.” I cannot instruct them to change or grow. I cannot forge a half-hearted friendship just to be in a better position to point their sins out. First, I must be aware of and addressing my own sin. And confessing it. Second, I have to be in the trusted circle of friends (as a friend, to be a friend, with no other motive other than to serve and love) before I can ever help someone else deal with or face their sin. Third, I must pray diligently for that person long before I approach them.

In fact, by the time I’ve focused on my own sin and taken it to the throne and prepared myself to avoid future temptation in that area, and built a deep relationship with said person, and gone to God on their behalf, I may find that there is no fourth step. No opportunity to point out their shortcomings. I may find that Jesus has already done that part, because it’s His part to do. Remember the woman? It wasn’t one of her fellow sinners that spurred her on to do better. It was Jesus. He defended her, just as He does you and I before Our Father, and He encouraged her to do better.

So let’s let Jesus do His work in our own hearts and the hearts around us, and let us be faithful to pray, to build relationships, to open ourselves up, to flush out the sin we struggle with, to admit to our temptations, and to move into a deeper relationship first with our Lord and Savior, and secondly with the people He put around us to love and to love on.

Go-and-sin-no-more

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My Warm Cup of Tea

I’ve now started typing and erased what I wrote 2 times because I don’t know where to start exactly. Or maybe it’s that I don’t know how to start. A warm cup of tea is more like a feeling than a thought for me.

A warm cup of tea, with a dollop of honey and a squeeze of lemon, can wake me up in the morning. It can start me off with a sort of calm energy that helps get this busy wife, mother, business partner out the door.

A warm cup of tea in the mid day can either be a pick me up when the 2 O’clock slump threatens to take over, or it can be a sort of calm in the midst of chaos if the day is out of control. A little honey, a little cream, sip until better.

Before bed, a warm cup of tea can soothe the soul, calm the nerves, quiet the mind, and allow me to wind down. One sip at a time, the worries of the day just melt away and I can fall asleep peacefully.

When ill, a warm cup of tea can soothe the sinuses, relieve a sore throat, ease an aching belly. A warm cup of tea between my hands can take the chill out of the air and bring me warmth from the inside out.

You know, as I’m writing this, I am deeply reminded of my husband and the many ways he encourages, delights, strengthens, and warms me. He is helpful to me, kind to me, and supportive. He is reliable, comforting, calming, energizing, and like having an extra set of hands, eyes, ears.

You are my cup of tea, Mr. Wonderful. I am thankful I have you. I choose you again and again and again. Thank you for always being there and for taking such good care of me.

warm cup of tea

(This post was inspired by the writing prompt posted at Write. Blog. Connect. You should take a moment to check it out.)

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Melodramatic

(My inspiration for this post came from this Writing Prompt over at Write. Blog. Connect.)

Cue the shrill voice. The panicked, “Mooooooom!” Followed by my heart thundering in my chest and sweat breaking out on my forehead. I cannot help but run to this sound of absolute fear and desperation. I’m clumsy and I’m bound to trip and hurt myself on the way, but I run anyway.

I round the corner, gripping the door jamb with my hand, preparing for blood, guts, or worse.

“Mom, she threw my toy at the wall,” said to me, in the shrill voice of my exasperated 10-year-old.

Panting, out of breath, and annoyed, I can rarely respond in kindness in these moments. Anything from dropping a sandwich, losing a toy, not having clean socks, to a busted lip, skinned knee, or bloody nose causes the same melodramatic reaction from my 10-year-old.

Everything that happens sounds like the world is ending. He is wound up tighter than I knew was humanly possible, and he cannot get through a single day without having some earth shattering moment that used to leave me feeling like the rug had been yanked from beneath me.

I warn him that “crying wolf” will eventually mean no one comes. I’ve threatened to take him to the trauma center to see truly traumatic, shrill-voice, panic worthy things, but I don’t believe I should make an example of other people’s trauma and pain in such a way. I’m at a loss for how to help him tone it down. I get the craziest looks in public for my dismissive, annoyed reactions – because when people hear him they become alarmed and think they are witness to a dire situation.

I’m not here to write about some fabulous advice I have, or to help other mom’s over this hurdle. I’m here to write about how lost I am in the middle of this. I prefer to keep things fairly even – mild lows, mild highs, nothing too catastrophic. I have a level head in the face of emergency, and I can usually think my way through anything. I do not know how to help someone who naturally panics all the time calm down, turn on their thinking brain, or function more rationally.

I hope my boy finds himself a long career on television, because he can over-sensationalize absolutely anything.

If you have any advice or suggestions for me and my melodramatic 10 yr old, comment below. I would love to hear your thoughts!

melodramaticdefined

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