Back-to-School-Anxiety-Blues

I have four kids. They are all adults now and, I must say, they are all pretty awesome.

I was one of those crazy moms that loved snow days, government holidays, long weekends, fall and spring breaks...I even liked it when we had so much rain that the schools closed because of flooding.

Being at home with my kids was my favorite!

I especially loved summers with my kids. I have wonderful memories of board games, afternoon reading, movies, little league games and swimming.

I can even remember getting on to them about fighting, sending them to their rooms, and wanting to pull my hair out.

Even when it got a bit stressful, summers were good. Life was good.

In the blink of an eye, August would raise its intrusive head.

And

extreme

anxiety

 followed.

I would stay awake late into the night wishing I could stop time.

I wrung my hands and felt my chest get tight every time I'd glance over the back-to-school shopping list.

Once you have a child in kindergarten, you know what happens.

August melts into fall, which turns into Christmas, which quickly becomes Spring Break. Blink again and it's May--time for piano and dance recitals and another school year is in the review mirror.

Do this 11 more times and your kid graduates.

Hey moms, can I get a witness or am I the only one?

How did I survive 4 kids school year in and school year out without boarding the crazy train? After a few years of the anxiety, I learned a better way to handle watching my kids grow up and the inevitable fact that they would one day be adults out on their own.

Here is the Readers Digest version of Shelley's August Anti-Anxiety Advice...

• Remember God is in control. Always. Period.
• Your kids are not alone and neither are you.
• Pray for your children and their new teachers.
• Read and commit to memory scriptures such as Psalm 94:10, 1 Peter 5:7, Psalm 118:6 and Proverbs 12:25.

Here's another thought to consider.

Teachers everywhere feel their own kind of August anxiety. Be THAT mom. The mom that offers words of encouragement and prayers for wisdom, health, and strength for each day.

One of God's promises to His kids is to keep your mind at perfect peace when you are focused on Him.

When August anxiety raises its head you have a choice to make. You can get all balled up inside, half destroy your nerves and change nothing or you can make the mindful decision to trust God.

The hard reality is, allowing anxiety to take up residence in your heart is the result of not trusting God to take care of you and your children.

It's almost August. Here's your to do list:

• Pray for the teachers
• Pray for the kids
• Pray for yourself
• Look for and praise God for every single blessing in your life
• Be THAT mom

Now, to my Towering Oaks Baptist Church parents -- I look forward to a new school year, which means a new year in ministry. I look forward to another year of growing and learning with you and your child.

I'm proud of you. I know you will be THAT mom!

 

 

 

Impastor: Confessions of an Angry Preacher's Wife

If you are a TVLand watcher, as I used to be, you have recently been slammed with adds for a new program titled Impastor. It falls under the "American Comedy" genre.

This "entertainment" is about some guy who is pretty much the anti-pastor who takes the identity of the real deal and brings his immoral self in to lead a church. Sounds hilarious, doesn't it?

Why would this make me angry?

Maybe because I have been a pastor's wife for 34 years and what Hollywood feeds America isn't remotely close to the truth of our lives. My anger began a couple of years ago when Lifetime (Dear Christian sister--this is NOT the network for women) ran "Preachers Daughter," an insult at best.

Maybe I am angry because as America laughs, there's a small part of the brain that takes this information and files it under "truth."

Perhaps  I'm irritated at the story line that portrays church members as stupid.

Yes, fuming at the very idea that our Christian walk is reduced to a joke.

No one is laughing when a young mother and father try to breathe while their infant is rolled into surgery.

It isn't funny when my husband is called on Christmas morning to come to the hospital to help a family as their daddy dies.

It's no joke when he pours himself into the church family because he has a deep love for them, whether they return the affection or not.

It isn't amusing when preacher's kids, who did not choose this life but were born into it, are held to a standard they cannot live up to.

There is no chuckling as a sermon is prepared, knowing that eternity for the listeners hangs in the balance.

The world wants you to lose all respect for pastors in our society. Hollywood wants you to question the authority of the Scriptures and at the same time look at your pastor questioning his motives. The world wants to take the examples of those who have tripped up, messed up and fallen and hold them up as the norm.

I'm not placing my husband or any other pastor on a pedestal. There's no room up there for a human, it is for our Creator alone. But I will tell you that my pastor's heart is pure. I know him better than any other person, I know this life better than the producers of programs for TVLand ever could.

Mixed in with the heavy responsibility of leading and caring for the Bride of Christ, is the thrill of lives changed. A child who opens his Bible, a young dad who makes the commitment to bring the family to church, a senior adult couple who remain faithful through hardship, the excited college kid who is bringing her friends to Jesus, and a near-divorce marriage is restored--these are just a few of the super great reasons to stay the course.

Why does my husband, or any other pastor, stay in ministry? Obedience to God on the calling of his life. As his wife, I am called as well. I could not handle being a pastor's wife if God didn't prepare me early, call me clearly and provide for me daily.

So, what's it to you?

Well, first of all, pick up the nasty remote and turn the one-eyed-monster off.  Don't allow the world to feed you and your family garbage under the guise of entertainment.

Pray for your pastor.

Respect your pastor.

Speak highly of your pastor.

Support your pastor.

Teach your children to appreciate the pastor.

Wait a minute...

I do hear some laughter...

Until we take God seriously and allow him into our family rooms and what entertains us, the joke is on us.

Satan is laughing. 

 

He Didn't Have to Do It

It's another one of those wow-God-look what-You-did-through-ordinary-people kind of mornings. Today we'll take down all the super cool Vacation Bible School decorations and pack them up to wait patiently for another year. I will try to get the report done this week, return unopened items, find the floor in my office and possibly even the desk.

I will remember the special moments of the week such as

• The excited text from a teacher telling me about the child who prayed and is now my little sister.
• The friend who left Monday morning to buy a pair of flip flops for a distressed little girl who arrived with one broken shoe.
• The Facebook message from a mom telling me her daughter got in the car after VBS and immediately began to read her new Bible.
•  The ESP Staff that went back to school and enjoyed seeing their kids pull out their Bibles at reading time.
• The tear-filled eyes of the friend who came to me Friday morning with her ideas for NEXT year's VBS!

And then there's

• The tears of a sorrowful teen bearing burdens her young heart is not designed to bear.
• The teacher whose health issues tried to get her down but the burning in her heart to tell kids about Jesus kept her going.
• The personality differences among the family of God that Satan tried to use to sabotage unity but God said "NO!"
• The "pray for me" pleas from volunteers engaged in spiritual warfare.
• The torrential rain and flash flood warnings.

As I file VBS 2015 in my memory banks, my mind keeps resting on What God didn't have to do.

He could have chosen to use others to deliver His message to the kids.

He could have used the rocks and trees.

He could have used the wind to whisper salvation.

He chose to use the ordinary people of Towering Oaks to plant redemption seeds to hundreds.

And then my mind rabbit trails to other things God did not have to do. Have you ever thought

• God didn't have to create color. He could have created a gray world and we would never have missed brilliant blues, blinding yellows, and amazing reds.
• God didn't have to create taste. We would never have missed the joy of a great cup of coffee, the comfort of chicken and dumplings or the wonder of  cheesecake.
• God didn't have to give us the gift hearing. We would not have known the joy of our baby's first cry, the dawn-song of the birds, or the marvel in music--the music that calls us to worship The Creator of all that is.

And to steal the words from RONCO: but wait--THERE'S MORE!

We'll put the decorations in storage but we get to keep telling His story. We don't have to wait until next summer to talk about Jesus.

We get the joy and responsibility of being Jesus to people every day in the grocery store, on the ball field, at work, and you know what? Even through the words we tweet, our Facebook status', and our snapchats or instagrams.

And in The House? Well, we teach kids about Jesus every time the doors open.

It's exciting to know that God uses ordinary people...that's you and me...to do extra-ordinary things because He is THE Extra-ordinary God.

Wow-God-look what-You-will-do-through-ordinary-people who put their faith in You and walk in an I-am-not-ashamed-of-the-gospel kind of way!

 

More Than A Bunch of Grapes and a Bus Ride

 
 

Strength and honor are her clothing, and she can laugh at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and loving instruction is on her tongue. Proverbs 31:25-26

   They called her Jenny Red.
   Jenny Red  came into our lives and became an adopted grandmother. She would come by the house carrying a zip lock bag full of grapes. Little feet ushered excited little people to the door, anxious to see their Jenny Red. Cartoon voices filled the air, "Jenny Red is here!"
   Smooth and pudgy hands would reach up and take ahold of beautiful, weathered hands. The babies, a mere 2 & 3 years old, would snuggle up to Jenny Red, munch on grapes that tasted better than any I could buy, and listen to her as she read through a stack of Golden Books.
   Jenny Red had no grandchildren. Her husband, a war veteran, was in a nursing home. We took the kids to spend time Christmas morning with Jenny Red and her husband.
  


   They called her Julie.
   Her name was Jewel but that is a difficult name to say when you are a preschool child.
   Julie had no grandchildren. Her husband had passed away several years earlier. She, too, became an adopted grandmother.
   Julie took our son on bus rides. They stopped at Frisch's Big Boy Restaurant, that was her favorite place to eat.
  She brought our daughter trinkets and treasures. She provided clown costumes for our 2 tots to wear for Halloween. We only made one stop - Julie's house.
   Her laughter filled the house when she came by to see the kids.
  


   My husband was pastoring a church in Kentucky. I can only describe it as a difficult-at-best place to minister. He refers to it as the back side of the desert in reference to Moses' hard years of learning after he left Egypt. His hours were long and frustrations were great. My family lived in Louisiana, which meant it was a long distance call in pre-cell phone days. We were pretty broke, so calling my mom in moments of need was not an option. As a stay at home mom of two (at that time), I remember the loneliness and the resolve to make every day count as best I could.


   Then along came Jenny Red and Julie.   


   These two ladies, aged and alone, placed our young family in their hearts.
  
   I watched them play with my kids.
 
   I listened as they read to the kids.


   I smiled when they sang with the kids.


   Sometimes, we enjoyed the treat of having them both show up at the house at the same time!


  These two sweet ladies taught their young pastor's wife life lessons. Not in word but in deed.


   I learned to keep God first.


   Live the way Jesus taught us to live.


   Be forgiving and kind.


   Take care of those you love.


   Be generous.


   Stay true to your word.


   Never give up.


   Attitude is everything.


   Life is never as dreary as it seems.


   All the while they gave my children the gift of love and laughter and hugs and sweet memories, they gave me hope. When the world was gray, Jenny Red and Julie would show up.


   They looked like Jesus to me.


   They have long been gone from this messy old earth, but I can still hear Julie's chuckle and I can still smell Jenny Red's perfume. I'm certain they heard "Well done, Julie!" "Well done, Jenny Red!"


   They gave us so much more than a handful of grapes and a bus ride. When I grow up, I want to be just like them.


 


  


  

Lord, I Believe. Help My Unbelief!

She buried her face in her hands and wept. She swallowed hard, as if she could keep her grief from escaping. She spoke. The sentence was broken as she struggled to say each word, "I...don't ...understand."
 
He sat in stillness. A single tear rested on his jawline. He stared at nothing as if it were something. Then came the long, heavy-shouldered sigh. Maybe if I look long enough, I will understand.


Have you been there? Maybe you're there now. Each step you take to try to understand your painful situation or the condition of someone you love only leads your further away. Understanding isn't even a blip on the radar.


You feel the longing to understand and the greater longing to believe God when He says "Trust Me."


We look to our spiritual leaders, those folks we think walk on mountaintops every day and we wonder how their faith grew to be so strong. Do they ever question? Do they ever want to understand?


I think of the father who brought his son to Jesus (Mark 9). His son was troubled by a spirit that made him unable to speak. It would often throw the boy into fire or water. I can't begin to relate to this fathers anguish. To his sleepless nights and worry filled days.


He had done what he knew to do. He brought the boy to the disciples and the disciples were unable to heal him. The father told Jesus his son had been this way since early childhood. I can hear his voice. The guttural groan of saying it out loud. The deep ache of hearing his own words give testimony to how long his son had suffered. And how long, as the dad who could not fix it,  he had anguished. And he did not understand.


Neither did he understand who Jesus was. When he spoke, he said "Jesus, if you CAN." Jesus responded by saying everything is possible to the one who believes.


I can see it unfold as the father instantly cries out, "I Believe!" but immediately realizes his faith is weak. It had been weakened by every healer or doctor or priest who may have been confident in helping the boy and yet they failed and walked away. I see him drop his head and quietly murmur "Help my unbelief."


Jesus commanded the spirit to leave the boy. And it left. The scripture doesn't tell us any more about the father. I imagine he fell to the earth in a crumpled heap of gratitude and relief.


You know, he still did not understand.


I'm a lot like that father. I want to understand the whys and why nots, the how's and whens. But just like that father, it's not for me to understand.


God never said understand Me. He said love Me, obey Me, serve Me, listen to Me, TRUST ME.


Whatever your burden may be today, whether it is a new weight or you have been troubled for years, maybe you needed to hear you don't have to understand.


Be encouraged by God's promises to never leave you. His promises to work in your life and the lives of those you love even when you don't see it. He is faithful. When your faith feels weakened by the disappointments around you, well, that's the perfect time to resolve to trust Him.


You know those people you think walk on mountaintops? They, too, have their moments of "Lord I believe! Help my unbelief."


God is faithful.