What It's Like to Mother Missionaries

My husband, Chuck, and I never prayed that our children would become missionaries. We simply prayed that they would do whatever God wanted them to do, using their unique gifts, talents, and interests to serve Him. 

With that backdrop to parenting, we provided an atmosphere in our home that fostered a heart for others, whether next door or around the world. When a new neighbor moved in, we played welcome wagon, showing up on their doorstep with cookies and card in hand. We hosted missionary families during our annual mission conference. Our kids played and studied with the missionary kids and formed ties that last to this day. We prayed with others at pro-life rallies. Each of our girls worked as summer counselors in the Christian camping ministry in which I grew up. During the year, we often visited the sick and lonely, gifting them with our music and crafts. We witnessed to people we met, in their homes, on the street, and in our neighborhood.

            
So, in some ways, it came as no surprise when our oldest daughter, Rachel, announced at age fifteen that she sensed God calling her to India as a career missionary. Prior to that, she’d been interested in veterinarian medicine, even oceanography. Looking back over our homeschooling years, I realize now that she’d always been fascinated with the solar system, even more with geography. She loved taking a globe or map and pointing out as many different countries as she could. She’d read stories of Amy Carmichael, missionary to India. Her innate interest in the world’s countries, her love for the Lord, and her exposure to missions through our church and her youth group paved the way for God to speak to her heart.

             
Thus, in November 2004, after ten years of preparation, Rachel set off for India as a single missionary gal. Only two months later, God provided her life partner, and they were married in June 2005. Their love story inspired my first novel, Journey to Judah. Writing articles about releasing a child into fulltime missions and later writing a novel helped this mom process the experience. Many ask me, “How can you let your daughter go clear around the world?” I simply respond, by the grace of God, “Well, you know, she’s not mine to hold back. I gave her to the Lord at conception. And I continue to give her over to Him every day. She belongs to Him. God merely used me to train her to serve Him.”

             
That’s not to say my emotions never threaten to get in the way. They do. My grown children go (for long periods of time) and then they come home (for months at a time). The transitions are heart rending. But the more experience I get as a mother to missionaries, the more I realize that each season is simply that, a season that comes and goes with another season on its heels. When the kids come home, I focus on them. Our home becomes a missionary house. In fact, that’s exactly what it is right now as we house 15 people, seven of them kids! All of them are coming and going as they travel to churches to update them on their ministries. My job as missionary host is to listen, especially to the hearts of the grandchildren who are processing life in a different country, bake, cook, wash, play, and pray. In short, make good memories that will carry us through to the next furlough.

With each tear of separation comes the joy of knowing my daughter is doing exactly what I raised her to do: Serve God and others.

            
On the heels of Rachel’s commitment, my second daughter, Michelle, trained to serve the Lord, and met and married a youth minister. Today, they serve fulltime in inner city missions. In addition, my youngest daughter, Stephanie, and her family are preparing to go to Thailand as fulltime missionaries, working with at-risk children vulnerable to sex traffickers.

             
Every day, some days more than others, I have to intentionally release each one of my children, and now seven grandchildren, to fulfill the purpose God has for them. I have to remind myself that we’re not really home yet. There’s lots of work to do for the kingdom. We each play a role: Me in my writing, speaking, and mentoring young moms, and they in their mission work around the world. Someday, we’ll join forever in heaven, celebrating all He has accomplished through our ministries. For now, we work while we wait. And choose joy in the process.

~~

Looking for a summer read? Check out the Born for India trilogy (Journey to Judah, Restored Hearts, Chosen Ones) on my Amazon author page.

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003O405FO 

Celebrate God & Country

What an awesome privilege God has given Americans to live in such a great land. With all its difficulties, America is still the greatest country on earth!

As America honors God, He will honor her as a nation. As she blesses Israel, God will bless her (Gen.12:3). Woe to the country who turns its back on God's chosen people! May America ever be a friend to Israel.

Our loving, faithful God birthed America into existence so that His precious Gospel could be propagated around the globe. Many of America's founding fathers understood this mission. May America rise to the challenge of her godly calling!

May believers in the Lord Jesus Christ carry His torch in these needy, desperate times! With broken homes and broken hearts, Americans are searching for a relationship that lasts! Jesus is the answer to that compelling need!

The best way American believers can celebrate God and country this July 4th is to share Jesus with at least one other person. Maybe with a neighbor you can invite to a backyard barbeque and begin to establish a relationship with. Maybe a co-worker you can invite to a July 4th community gathering. As you talk about the "day," share why God established America in the first place. Keep the godly roots of America alive as you share with folks around you.

May American believers never forget the godly heritage upon which their country was founded. Like a candle in the darkness, may each one shine brightly with God's love and truth at home, in the neighborhood, at work, at church, in the community, on vacation, and in the secret places of his/her heart.

May each Christian parent instill within his children and grandchildren a love and respect for God and country. May each child come to understand that a country in which individuals do whatever is right in their own eyes, as in the days of the Old Testament Judges, is destined to failure, but a country in which individuals submit to authority under God prospers.

Each day, Americans stand at a crossroads. A choice must be made before leaving the front door:  Will I serve God today, or will I serve other gods? Success. Power. Materialism. Humanism. Me.

It is the same message Joshua delivered to the Israelite children so long ago. Following a history lesson of God's faithful dealings and deliverance of His children, Joshua sums up with these words:

"Now, therefore, fear the Lord and serve Him in sincerity and truth; and put away the gods which your fathers served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. And if it is disagreeable in your sight to serve the Lord, choose for yourselves today whom you will serve: whether the gods which your fathers served which were beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." (Joshua 24:14-15)

What is your choice today? Your answer will greatly impact America, either for good or for ill. Your answer will determine how you celebrate this July 4th. Just another cookout or a commitment to God's agenda.

Laughing with Lily Celebration Giveaway!

In honor of the upcoming birth of my seventh grandchild,

I'm giving away a Kindle copy of Laughing with Lily!

 

A long-buried secret. An unexpected encounter. A quest for answers. Celeste Tatem, a special-education teacher at The Brighton Center in Schreiber, Indiana, couldn't be more in love with her husband, Joe. But the memory of one day in the past haunts her, threatening their relationship. When Joe dies in a factory explosion, she sinks into depression. It will take the arrival of a new student, Lily, and her delightful honesty, laughter, and joy at life's little things to awaken Celeste to hope. 

 

When Don, an old flame from college, reenters Celeste's world, the flickers of love stir once again, and startling questions arise. Questions that threaten to rip the veneer off of her carefully guarded secret. Then the most unexpected thing of all happens.... A story of love and forgiveness in the most unexpected places. 

 

'Reaches into the deepest recesses of women's hearts, encouraging them to hold tight to those they hold dear.'-JENNIFER SLATTERY, Novel Reviews. 

 

'Sweet, suspenseful, and heartwarming. I couldn't put it down.'-DIANE DEAN WHITE, Seeds of Encouragement blog. 

 

'A top-notch, no-holds-barred, excellent story full of twists and turns, dilemmas, inspiration, and romance.'-KATHLEEN FREEMAN, Beauty in Simplicity, Hope in Hard Times. 

 

Stop by my FB event page and leave a bit of parental advice for the new mom and enter to win. Winner announced on July1!

https://www.facebook.com/events/1521373208091707/

The Free-time Zone

What time zone do you live in? Atlantic, Eastern, Central, Mountain, or Pacific? Some accuse me of living in the O-Zone at times. That's okay, let them hurl their insults. Because where I am really dwelling at such times is in the FREE-TIME ZONE.

Yes, that's what I said--the free-time zone. The zone where schedules fly out the window and daydreaming zooms in. Time for creativity and imagination to flow. Time to kickback and do absolutely nothing. Summertime, one might think. But, alas, all too many are consumed by their daytimer, even in the summer.

"Oh, wait a minute," my friend says over the phone. "Let me grab my little black schedule book and see if I can squeeze in a lunch date. Umm, I have to take Jenny to gymnastics camp tomorrow. And oh, Johnny  has a play date at the neighbor's house on Friday. Maybe next week? Oh, wait a minute, we're going out of town...."

"Uh, Mary," I break in on my friend's frantic search through her day planner. "Just call me when you have a free moment to go out somewhere and chat."

I hang up the phone and wonder, What is it about the new millenium that requires play to be scheduled? Even today's kids have their lives scheduled to the hilt. Free time just to be, to dream, to create is scheduled away. And the sad part about it is that many parents think this busyness is healthy, productive, and the best way to nurture their children's growth and education. Well, God bless them. If this lifestyle is the legacy of the baby boomer generation, then I want no part of it. Perhaps that hint of rebellion in my spirit is one thing that led us to home school our kids. Flexibility. Freedom to discover. Time for the girls to think their own thoughts and form their own ideas, without someone constantly looking over their shoulders or telling them what to think. Guidance, yes. Books, yes. An occasional class or scheduled field trip, certainly. But in addition to all of that, especially in the younger years, large doses of FREE TIME. For that is what fosters great contributors to our society. Just look at Thomas Edison or Albert Einstein. Enough said.

When I was growing up in the carefree, laid-back mountains of Tennessee, my friends and I roamed freely from neighborhood to neighborhood. Up hills. Down hills. In the attic. Up trees. Down trees. Sometimes, we hid behind a large bush and set up housekeeping. Or played tea party in the kitchen, sipping "Kool-Aid tea" from tiny plastic cups and saucers. Later, we mixed water with food coloring or "special" berries we had collected from our mountain jaunts in our homemade laboratory in the tool shed. We could transform just as easily into cops and robbers on our speeding bikes or construct a "tent" with blankets between two chairs. In the evening, as the sun slid quietly behind the mountain, we caught fireflies and collected them in glass jars with holes in the lid. Late into the night, neighbors could hear us hollering and running after the little illusive creatures, until our parents called us in. Reluctantly, we trudged to the house with our jars, put them on our bedroom shelves, and watched them flicker on and off as we drifted to sleep.

The next day was just as eventful. Oh, nothing planned in particular. No car rides to the zoo or soccer practice. Just idly lying in the grass, making shapes out of the clouds overhead. Or rolling down the grassy hill, until the world spun all around us. Then at dusk, as the sun crept behind the mountain, we ran for our jars to see who could trap the most fireflies, while our folks talked in the front yard about important things, like world affairs and how they felt the President was doing running the country.

I'm so thankful my parents lived in the FREE-TIME ZONE. They left a treasured legacy to me. There have been those moments when I have cowered under the world's pressure to conform and move away from the free-time zone. But I simply shake myself and remember that even though I am grown now (though some would argue otherwise), I have not moved. I still live in the free-time zone. And though many things require a schedule, much in life does not. When I remember that, then I am free to stop and sniff a rose, sit on the deck and dream, or stay in bed late and pull the covers over my own little world. That is the stuff of greatness. Without it, folks suffocate, wither, and the world spits out one carbon copy after another.

So, my dear and probably overly busy friend, what time zone do you live in? If you feel captive to your time zone, why not break loose from your schedule today and travel to the FREE-TIME ZONE, even if only for an hour or two? You will come away refreshed and ready to tackle that day planner again, maybe with some new ideas to implement.

Beach Beatitudes

Beach season is upon us! Perhaps your family plans to head off for your annual “chill-out” or should I say, “burn-out” since the hot winds of the seaside are hardly conducive to chilling. Although I do believe burn-out is what we are each trying to escape or avoid or come out of (whichever may be the case in any given year). Even when funds are low, Chuck insists that we need this week of refreshment. Who am I to argue? So days ahead, we begin pulling out buried goggles, boogie boards, beach towels, and swimsuits.

Every year, my dear husband reminds me to purchase 50+ sunscreen even though he wears a long-sleeve shirt and a baseball cap with a large bandana attached to the back into the ocean. He looks more like he's part of a caravan traveling by camel-back through the hot, dry desert than merely jumping into the waves for some afternoon fun. Generally speaking, when my beach beauty daughters see him sauntering down the sand toward the ocean in his more than unusual garb, they look the other way or bury their heads in a magazine. I simply smile and say, "Isn't he cute? Gotta love him!" They sigh and apply more sun lotion to their already brown, baked bodies. Perhaps someday we girls will see the wisdom of the man in our lives with his hanky laden cap bobbing up and down in the water. At least we know how to locate him.

Indeed, for our family, the "beach week" is a time to kick back, be free, and experience individual and family delights, whether it's reading a good book, playing a round of golf, shopping at Bare Foot Landing, or playing Marco Polo in the pool. It is a time to refresh, relax, reflect, and regroup. But with the freedom comes a sense of foreboding that Satan is lurking behind some dark corner ready to snatch us by the throat and draw us in to some hidden temptation.

That is exactly why each year we covenant together to request the honor of Jesus' presence at our vacation. Not that He isn't there with us already through the Spirit that lives within; He most definitely is there, but we find it helpful to verbally ask Him to make us AWARE of His presence. It is far too easy to give in to subtle and not-so-subtle pressures to conform to society's agenda when sunbathing on the beach or viewing billboards along the road. When we ask Jesus to take us by the hand while strolling down the beach, we are far more apt to guard our hearts and heads and thwart those temptations that walk past.

Here are some helpful ways to include Jesus on your vacation.

BEACH BEATITUDES

   *B eware of Satan's tactics. Don't let your guard down just because it's time to relax. Remember Satan never goes on vacation.

   *E at in moderation. Resist the urge to woof down every delicacy in sight. It only brings regret later as you try to work off accumulated pounds.

   *A sk Jesus to shield your eyes, protect your thoughts, guard your heart, and guide your steps. The Psalmist, a man speaking from experience, once said, "I will set no worthless thing before my eyes"(Psalm 101:3). Wise advice.

   *C ommit your way unto the Lord. Ask Him to open doors of witness for you. Pass out tracts at each gas station. Leave one with a tip at restaurants. Listen to people in the elevators to discover spiritual hunger. If you ask for an open door, God will provide one. Watch for the door.

   *H elp people in need along the way as God prompts you to do so. Be polite and courteous to others in the parking lot. Take turns at the pool shower. Little deeds of kindness can lead to a greater witness. Remember, we never take a vacation from the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23).

This vacation, whether you're headed to the beach, the mountains, or around the corner for a cool soda, invite Jesus to come along. You'll have the time of your life!

~~

Visit my Amazon author page for some fun and meaningful vacation reads!

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003O405FO