What a Crayon Box Taught Me About God

Hi Friends,

In these past weeks, I've been pondering how past events have affected my view of God and His love.  How has my perception of His love been skewed by the imperfect love I've experienced from others?  Well, as I've been thinking (and clearing out a room in Bryan's office), I came across an old box of crayons that I'd happened on before.  Last time I found them, Bethany was with me.  And what I learned then was something I needed to hear again.  I needed to be reminded that the love of Jesus is not fickle. It's not wavering.  It is, at all times, faithful.  And that makes a world of difference in everyday life.

It happened like this:

“Look, Mom, crayons!”  

I lifted my head out of bag of toys that I was unpacking to see my five-year-old daughter clutching a narrow yellow and green box in her hand. 

Bethany opened the lid.  “Ew, but they’re so old.  Yuck.”

I laughed and tossed a doll back into the bag.  “Bring those here.”

She sidestepped around a bag of stuffed animals and hopped over a box of craft supplies.  “Here.”  She handed me the old, dilapidated box.  “I don’t want them.”

I grinned.  “That’s okay, because they’re not yours.”

She frowned.  “Then whose are they?”

I ran my finger over the top of the box and paused over a name written in brown ink.  “They’re mine.”  And they had been, for a long time.  A box of 64 crayons, their ends dulled with use, the paper torn, but all still intact.  

Bethany looked at the box and pointed to the name.  “But your name’s not Lynette.”

“Nope, but they’re my crayons all the same.  I got them when I was in the fourth grade.”

Bethany tapped her finger on the box top.  “But that’s still not your name.”

“Well, let me tell you . . .”

She sat down and crossed her legs.  Probably because she knew a story was coming.  She was right.

I sat down too, and placed the crayons on my lap.  “See, here’s my name.”  I pointed to the “Marlo” printed in dark purple along the edge.  “My friend Lisa gave me these crayons as a gift.”

“But your name’s crossed out.”

“I know.  About a week after she gave them to me, she got mad at me and gave them to Lynette instead.  See, here’s Lynette’s name right after mine.”

“It’s crossed out there too.”

“I know.”

“Then your name’s crossed out again.”

“Yep.”

“That’s weird.” Bethany shook her head.  “So why was your friend mad at you?”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t know then either, but Lisa was that way.  When she got mad at me, she’d give the crayons to Lynette and cross out my name.  I’d come in from recess and the crayons would be gone, right out of my desk.  Then a few days later, they’d be back again, with Lynette’s name crossed out and mine written again.”

Bethany giggled.  “How many time did it happen?”

“Well, let’s see.”  I counted the crossed out names.  “Six times.  She forgot to write my name the last time.”  

Bethany crossed her arms.  “She wasn’t a very good friend.”

I smiled.

Bethany shrugged.  “Jesus is my friend.  We learned that last week at Sunday School.”  She turned around and returned to her box across the room.

I grinned as I watched her go back to her unpacking.  She had stated it so simply.  Jesus was her friend.  And he was mine too.  I opened the crayon box and looked down at the dilapidated crayons.  Today, they made for a funny story, but back then, it had hurt to have a fickle friend.

Jesus wasn’t like that.  And yet, sometimes, even now as an adult, I acted as if he were.  Secretly, I wondered if one day, without me understanding why, he would just reject me?  Would he call me "not good enough" to be his friend?  If I failed, would he turn away and cross out my name from his "favored" list?  In the face of loss and grief, I asked, “What have I done wrong to deserve this?”  It was as if Jesus was like the little girl Lisa.  

But God doesn’t get mad at me and take away his grace.  He doesn’t sneak in and steal away his gifts on a whim.  Even when I fail, or withdraw, or doubt ... his love remains.

In 2 Timothy 2:13, Paul says, “if we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself.” (NIV)  

God has given me his grace, his love, his promise that nothing shall separate me from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:39).  

God loves me.  He won’t cross my name off the box.  And he won’t take my crayons away.  I need to live in the joy, confidence, and gratefulness of that amazing truth.

How can I (and you!) live more fully in the truth of God's breath-taking love today??

Lessons from Preschool

Hi Friends,

Well, Jayden had his very first day of school at Northminster Preschool, 3's class.  He loved it!  Though it seems like just yesterday when he was running around in diapers and onesies.  And now he's a "big boy"going off to school for the first time.  How did that happened??  How did he grow from a toddler in Pampers to the young man making his way over to the Lego table all by himself?

As I think about it, I realize he's grown day by day, hour by hour, with a lot of instruction, a lot of discipline, and a lot of meals.  And some of it he hasn’t liked one bit.

Here's some examples:  He wanted to hit his sisters when they took his toys.  We taught him he couldn’t hit.  He wanted to go to church in just a diaper.  We told him he had to keep his pants on.  He didn’t want to eat healthy food.  We gave it to him anyway.  He “no like” going to bed.  We tucked him in and turned out the light all the same.  And he especially didn’t like to use the potty chair.  Going in the diaper was just so much easier.  But we kept at it until he was able to keep his big-boy pants dry all day and all night.

We did it because we knew he couldn’t stay a baby forever.  We knew this day would come, when he’d be going to school where you couldn’t hit, you couldn’t grab, you had to keep your pants on and your underwear dry.  Now, after a lot of work, he was ready.

And he was happy!

Which makes me wonder ... if I use things Jayden doesn't like to get him ready for the adventure of preschool, is God also using things I don’t like in my life to discipline me too, to train me for a new adventure that I don’t yet know about?  Are the things that don’t taste so sweet making me strong?  Are the lessons that seemed so hard preparing me for my “first day of preschool” where diapers aren’t allowed?

I'm reminded of Hebrews 12:5b-6 (NIV):  “My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves...”

Even though I prefer the easy life, even though I would rather swallow only things that I enjoy and get my own way, God knows that I have to grow up.  So he trains me, disciplines me, shows me how to grow, so that when I walk into a new classroom, I can straighten my shoulders, grip his hand in mine, and say with a voice that may tremble just a little, “Yes, I’m ready.”

So, what did I learn from Jayden's first day of preschool?   I learned that I wanted to be like him.  I wanted to be a “big girl” who could bravely go into new situations and do what’s right.  I wanted to be the type of kid who holds God’s hand, even when I’m shaking, and walks forward.  I wanted to be ready to run and play, sing and hear stories.  I want to be prepared ... and happy ...  in every new adventure with God!

New Short Story - I Need Your Help!!

Hi Friends,

I need your help!  I've entered my short story SHADOWS OF REMEMBRANCE in the Family Fiction short romance story contest.  To get past the first round, I need readers (like you!) to give it a thumbs up vote.  I told God that I wasn't going to write a short story unless He gave me a story that moved me and showed me something of Himself.  Well, I was moved! And I hope you will be too.

You can read the story (I really think you'll enjoy it!) and vote here:  http://www.familyfiction.com/short-stories/create-romance-2012/shadows-of-remembrance

To vote I'm pretty sure you will need to register your email address with Family Fiction (there's a button for that) so they know you're legitimate (and aren't voting for the same entry over and over again).  I hope you'll read it and vote a "thumbs up."

Here's the opening:  "The door slammed. Glass rattled. Callie didn’t care. Not anymore."

And here are some things I saw about God through the story:
--Nothing is beyond God's ability to heal.
--God never forgets love.
--Love that is true is first of all giving
--God believes in us even when we are too tired, too discouraged, too fearful to believe in Him.
--God's love never fails us.
--He can do the impossible. He loves us that much.
--Don't give up.  Trust Him, follow Him, believe ... even, especially, when all hope seems gone.
--So these three remain: Faith, Hope, and Love ... but the greatest of these is love!

Read the whole (brief) story here: http://www.familyfiction.com/short-stories/create-romance-2012/shadows-of-remembrance

When You Feel Like You're Drowning...Try This!

Hi Friends,

We had a pool party for our community group on Sunday and used this story from when Joelle was younger to talk about what it means to "look up" instead of panicking when life gets scary.  When you're feeling like you're drowning in life, what do you do? What should you do?  Read on . . .

SOMETIMES parents are right. This was one of those times.

Joelle paddled around the shallow end of the pool with a long, skinny floater tucked under her arms. She made a few circles then headed for the far end of the pool.

I watched her go. Past the ladder, past her sisters, past the light that marked the end of the area where she was allowed to swim. “Don’t go in the deep end!” I called out the warning after her. “Stay where you can touch bottom.” She didn’t turn.

“Joelle!”

I started to go after her.

My husband, Bryan, touched my arm. “Give her a minute. She’ll learn.”

Joelle glanced back at me. “I’ll be all right, Mommy. I’ve got my floatie.”

“You could let go of it, and it would float away.”

She turned back around. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Stay out of the deep end.”

But of course she didn’t. Soon after, the floatie had drifted off and there was Joelle, floundering, gasping, sputtering in the deep end of the pool. Arms flailed, water splashed. And the floatie moved even further from her reach.

Bryan shook his head and went after her. A moment later, he’d hauled her back to the shallow end.

Joelle trembled, and wailed, and hung on to her Daddy.

He sighed. “Well, what did Mommy tell you?”

“Waaaaa!” She buried her head deeper in his neck and refused to look.

He loosened her grip from around him and placed a finger under her chin. “You’re all right. Next time listen to Mommy.”

She sniffed and nodded. “I was s-s-s-scared.”

Bryan smiled at her. “I know. Now, let’s practice how to float, in case that ever happens again.”

So they did. They practiced being still, letting her body float at the top of the water, and raising her head above the surface to breathe. No flailing, no panic.

The strange thing is, bodies are buoyant. Yet people still drown with their noses a couple inches from air. Joelle had gasped and thrashed when all she really needed to do was calm down, stop flailing, and raise her face above the level of the water.

She only had to lift her chin and look up.

I wonder if it’s not often like that in life as well. We do something foolish, and we start to drown in our mistakes. But God doesn’t abandon us. He’s given us what we need to float. We just have to listen when he says to "Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10, NIV) All we’d really have to do is look up, look to Him, and we’d find our head above water. We’d be okay.

But instead we panic. We flail about in fear and desperation. And all the while God is swimming toward us, calling out to us to just look up.

The Bible says in Psalm 121 (NIV), “I lift up my eyes to the hills-- where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth… The LORD watches over you … The LORD will keep you from all harm. He will watch over your life; the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”

God is not far. There’s no need to panic. Instead, we just need to be still and look to Him.

So, next time I feel the waters rising, next time I find myself flailing around in fear, I hope to remember the lesson of Joelle’s trip to the deep end. I hope to remember to stop panicking, look up, and breathe in the peace of God. Because my Father in heaven is there with me. He won’t let me drown. He’s given me what I need to stay afloat in all the circumstances of life.

Lost Life's Wonder? Chew on This!!

Hi Friends,

Tough week this week ... and then I got a reminder through this story.  I remembered how to renew my wonder ... maybe you will too:

Stew bubbled on the stove.  Cookies baked in the oven.  Jello salad hardened in the refrigerator.  The microwave dinged.

I balanced a pot on my hip, grabbed a wooden spoon, and called over my shoulder.  “Hey, can someone check the sauce?”

My husband stuck his head through the kitchen doorway.  “Smells good in here.”

I blew out a breath.  “It’ll taste good too, if I can get it all ready in time.  See if the sauce is hot.”  I nodded toward the microwave then jabbed my spoon in the direction of the dining room.  “Is the table set?”

“Sure is.”  Bryan strode to the microwave and opened the door.  “Sauce looks perfect.  It’s steaming.”

“Great.  Go ahead and take it to the table.”  I glanced at the clock.  In ten minutes, our guests would arrive.  Ten minutes to stir and mix, taste and cook, prepare and place.  Then, all I wanted to do was sit and feast, and enjoy getting to know the new family from church.

I stuck the wooden spoon into the stew and gave it a twist as Bryan lifted the sauce bowl out of the microwave and moved to the next room.  

I turned back to the stew.  Bubbles popped to the surface.  It did smell good.  I leaned over and took a deep breath.  

A sniffle sounded behind me, followed by a tug on my pantleg.

I looked down.

Jayden glared up at me.  His two-year-old lip quivered.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

He pointed toward the living room.  “Sister mean.”

“What happened?”  

He folded his arms across his chest.  “Took toy.”

I sighed.  “Did she take your penguin toy away again?”  

He stared at the floor.  “I no like penguin.”

“But it’s your favorite.”

“No like.”  He sat down and scowled.  Tears rolled down his cheeks.  

“Well, our friends are coming in just a minute.  Maybe you want to go put together a puzzle while we wait.”

“No like puzzle.”

“How about your blocks, then?  Sister won’t take your blocks.”

“No like blocks.”

“Your train set?”

“Hate train.”

I squatted down in front of him.  “Well, you just don’t like anything, do you?”

“Me mad.”

“Yes, I see that.”  I stood back up and took the stew off the stove.  Then, I picked up a ladle and spooned the stew into a large serving terrine.  

“What dat?”

I glanced down.  “Stew.  You want some?”

He sniffed.  “Like stew.”

Ah, that was the problem.  Jayden was hungry.  And like his daddy, he got grumpy when when he was overdue to eat.

I ladled a bit of stew into a small bowl, blew it cool, and set it on the kitchen table.  “Sit on up and eat.”

He did.

Five minutes later, he licked his lips, pushed back his empty bowl, and grinned.  “I play sisters now.  We play penguin.  Puzzles too.”

“Okay, you go play.”

He trotted off.  

As I carried the stew terrine to the dining room table, I wondered if it wasn’t only Jayden and Bryan who got cranky when they were hungry.  Maybe I was that way too.

Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.  He who comes to me will never go hungry...” (John 6:35, NIV)

So when I’m anxious and irritable, when nothing seems right, when I “no like” life, maybe I’m just hungry for more of Jesus.  Perhaps it’s not about sister being mean, or the penguin, or the puzzle.  Maybe it’s just about needing to gobble up more scripture, chew on more truth, do more than just nibble at the corners of my prayer life.  Perhaps I need to fill up on more time with God, tasting the goodness of His presence with me.

These days when my husband seems inconsiderate, when I don’t like my job, when people don’t treat me like I think they should,  before I start casting blame, I try to remember Jayden and make sure I’m all filled up.  Then, I can go out and play with a much better attitude, even if someone is just a little bit mean.

Rodeo Wonder

Hi Friends,

In case you didn't hear (or see the photos on Facebook!), last weekend I got to carry the American Flag during the Pageant of the Flags at the California Rodeo (pronounced RO-DAY-O) in Salinas.  Lots of fun, and of course, God showed me something about Himself and me in the process.

He showed me that I'm a lot like Jewel, my beautiful half-Arab, half-Fox Trotter mare.  You see, in the American Flag position, you're supposed to lope two slow circles with the flag, then stand quietly, with the flag flying.  But Jewel likes to GO.  Faster is better.  Slow circles aren't so much fun.  And standing and waiting ... well, that wasn't her favorite part either.

I know how she feels.  Because right now in my life, it feels like God is holding back on the reins.  I want to run straight out, and maybe he's saying that instead He has me in the slow circle  position.  So, like Jewel, I snort a bit and tug on the reins.  And then I lope.  And I stand.  And I try not fidget.

Like her, I don't understand why I'm not running full-speed ahead.  But maybe God knows.  Maybe he sees the pattern and is checking me up so I can run the race HE has set out for me, and run it well and beautifully (see Hebrews 12:1).  As beautifully as Jewel.

At least I hope so.  I trust so.

And as I lope, and as I wait, (and fidget just a bit!), may His banner fly full of beauty and wonder above my head ... to the glory of God!!

Finding Wonder in a Child's Worship

Hi Friends,

This past Sunday our church had a family worship service (what fun!).  Some of the kids led a few worship songs (movements) up on the stage while littler kids (and me!) danced and sang in front of the stage.  There's Joelle, leading in the middle!

As we worshipped, I was reminded of the beauty of unencumbered worship.  I was reminded to come to Jesus as a child does, with wonder and joy ... and dance.

And I was reminded of the inspiration for my last novel, Shades of Morning.  For those of you who missed it, here's the story of Andy and one Sunday morning of the beauty of worshipping like a child . . .

Q:  Marlo, your newest novel, Shades of Morning, features a 15-year-old boy with Down syndrome. What inspired you to choose that particular disability? 

A:  Andy did.  And he did it one ordinary Sunday morning at church.  I went not expecting to see anything different, or special, or extraordinary.  But God had other plans.  And so did Andy.

In the middle of the third song, a noise came from the far side of the church.  A loud noise.  Strange, awkward, and off-key.  Then, it grew louder.  I furrowed my brow.  Was that someone singing . . . badly?

I stood on tiptoes and peeked toward the sound.  And there was Andy.  His arms were raised, his eyes closed.  And he was singing to his God for all he was worth.  Andy, in his middle teens, with blond hair, thick glasses, and small ears.  Andy, with Down syndrome and a grin on his face big enough for the angels to see.  Andy, shout-singing with all his might through that radiant smile.

That moment changed me.  It showed me that beauty is found in unexpected places, and that God’s gifts in our lives are often wrapped in awkward, off-key packages.  I witnessed something beautiful, something wondrous that day, and it made me see that so often the hard things in life, the things we want to hide away, to forget, to cover up, can be transformed into things of beauty in the hands of God.

And that’s how Shades of Morning was born – in those moments while Andy worshipped and I was left breathless by the wonder of it.