And my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:19

(source)

Meaning of His Name:

When God gave Himself the name El Roi, the God who sees me, He let us know that He sees where and who we are. He sees ME— the real me, with all my flaws and failures. He looks at you and me and chooses to love us. How stunning is that?!

Yet there is another way in which God says He sees us. The name Yahweh Yireh, meaning the LORD will provide, can be more graphically translated as, the LORD who sees ahead of me.

He not only sees me now, right where I am, but He also is looking ahead at where I am going. He sees what I cannot- every twist and turn of the path ahead.

And in all His seeing, He provides.

This name for God, Yahweh Yireh, is first mentioned in an uncomfortable moment of Abraham’s life, and then used over and over again in Scripture to point to what it looks like to be a man or woman of real faith.

Abraham had already made his mark as a man of faith by leaving all that he knew— his home, his career, his security, “not knowing whither he went”[1]. He’d heard from God and followed in heroic faith.

And God had honored that faith by giving him land and riches and what he wanted more than anything else in this world— a son of his own.

It’s the kind of fairy tale-like story all of us love: Abraham’s welling up of courageous faith and God’s generous pouring out of blessing, making all his dreams come true.

And that story might have ended nicely right there, except that “later on, God tested Abraham’s faith and obedience.”[2]

Just like God tested Job… and Peter… and even His own Son.

God asked Abraham to take what he treasured most, “your only son, yes, Isaac, who you love so much-“[3] out into the bleak wilderness of Moriah[4]. There Abraham would be required to “offer him up” in absolute dedication to the LORD.

I squirm in my seat as I read those words.

How could God ask that of one He called a friend?

Why would He?

Yet Abraham, father of our faith, didn’t ask those questions. He just went.

Setting off as the sun was rising over the desert, Abraham saddled his donkey, hoisting his young son on it’s back along with a bundle of wood for the sacrificial offering. All the boy knew was that he was on an adventure with his father and a couple of servants.

A strange entourage trekking across that barren land.

Three days into the journey, Abraham spotted way off in the distance that place where all his dreams would die.

And still he went.

When his little boy asked, “Father where is the lamb for the sacrifice?” Abraham must have choked on his answer. “God will yirah, my son.”[5]

Can’t you see them?

Father and son walking together towards death.

How God must have loved His friend in that moment. Did tears spill from the Father’s eyes as He watched the determined steps of a father willing to let his own son— his only son, die just because God said so?

At the last moment, God caught Abraham’s hand in His and provided a ram caught in the thicket to sacrifice in his son’s stead.

Can you imagine the worship that went on there on that mountain? Father and son, arms wrapped around each other in heart-pumping relief. Weeping, laughing, hollering, as shouts echoed off barren cliffs.

There was nothing tame about Abraham’s faith!

What is it that you love more than anything else? What are your dreams?

Will you walk in Abraham’s story to lay down your loves at the foot of the Cross? Willing, even eager to leave it all to go after Jesus?

And will you, instead of striving and fretting, trust Him to look ahead and see what He knows you need?

Will you trust Him that much?

Could you? Could I?

Dare we?

With a heart longing for that kind of reckless faith,

Diane

Genesis 22

Philippians 4:19,20

Hebrews 11:17-19

2 Kings 4

[2] Genesis 22:1

[3] Genesis 22:2

[4] which, strangely enough means Jehovah seeing (All the Divine Names and Titles in the Bible, Lockyer)

[5] Genesis 22:8 provide, or see ahead

I want to introduce you to my training partner.

Ladies, meet Carissa – wife to Tass, mother to Lukas, Toby, and Markus, daughter, sister, friend to many, and runner.  In her pre-kid life she worked as a tax accountant which translates to her being really smart and paying attention to detail.  In her post-kid life she added “teacher” to her list of accomplishments and is successfully home-schooling her sons. I think she’s pretty amazing.

We met almost three years ago at house church.  We were both new to the area and new to Solid Rock.  Occasionally we’d pray together in small group catching glimpses of each other’s lives in five-minute snippets.  I often thought to myself, “I need to get to know Carissa better.”  But we left to start a house church in Newberg and my interactions with Carissa over the next two years dwindled to sporadic interactions on Facebook and random sightings at church.

In that time Carissa got pregnant, had a baby, lost all her baby weight in a matter of months, and ran a half-marathon at a pace I’d worked for three years to attain. Are you as impressed as I am?

As for me, I injured my knee, had surgery and spent six months in physical therapy rebuilding my strength.  I ran my first post-surgery race right after a family reunion where my step-brothers (who are very fit and fast runners) shanghaied me into a verbal commitment to run the Portland marathon with them.  I walked away thinking, “What did I just get myself into?”

Within weeks Carissa emailed and asked, “Are you by any chance running the Portland marathon?  I’d love a partner for the long runs at the end of the training program.  Would you be interested?”  With that email we became partners in crime.

Our partnership is mostly electronic.  We message each other when we run, lamenting when it’s super tough and celebrating when we fly through a run.  We check in with each other for accountability and encouragement and once a month try to run together.

Our first training run was eighteen miles in the foothills surrounding Newberg. We used our three hours of running to pepper each other with questions, tell how we met our husbands, and share our parenting struggles.  By the time we huffed our way back to my driveway we were fast friends.

Carissa is thoughtful, calm and collected.  Her running reflects her personality.  She tackles a run in a calm, calculated manner, regulates her breathing to keep it even at all times, and never appears to be struggling.  I am impulsive, excitable, and emotional.  My running reflects my personality.   My pace changes drastically based on the terrain.  I sprint down hills, sound like an asthmatic woman in labor when I climb, and sigh, moan, hoop and holler as my emotions dictate.  Carissa rolls her eyes at my crazy antics and laughs at my lame jokes.  I appreciate her take-charge, no-nonsense approach to life.  She takes care of all the planning and details and I just show up at the appointed time (or maybe a few minutes late). We make a good team.

Over time our partnership has grown from running accountability to life accountability.  We check in with each other, lamenting when life is super tough and celebrating when we’re in a season of victory.  We pray for each other, our husbands and our kids.

I invited myself over for dinner and a sleepover at Carissa’s house the night before the Portland marathon because she lives closer to the start of the race and I abhor getting up early.  We ran the marathon together in the pouring rain and had a “we’re really doing this” emotional moment at mile 13.

Sharing that grueling race with a comrade made me realize I never want to run a long race alone again.

A few weeks ago we ran the Eugene half marathon together.  We used the race as a chance to escape for 24 hours of girls only time.  It was life-giving for both of us.

Last weekend we previewed the Helevetia half marathon course.  Carissa brought a friend and we all met at West Union Elementary School.  I was a few minutes late, slightly discombobulated, and prepared to run a ten-mile loop and not a step further.  Carissa was on time, stretched out, and hoping to add three miles to our loop to make a full half marathon.  None of this surprised either one of us.  After all, we’re partners.

We ran up, down and around country roads through breath-taking farmland.  Cows mooed.  Dogs barked.  Birds sang.  We passed the quaintest country church (just wait until you see it) and ran past clover fields in full bloom hemmed in by the coastal mountain range.  The beauty of the route took the edge off the pain of climbing so many hills. You ladies will love this course.

I asked Carissa if I could share the story of how our friendship evolved.  She said,  “Go for it.  God’s fingerprints are all over our running partnership and friendship.  I pray writing about it will bless others too.”

We all need a friend who embraces our differences, celebrates our victories, and challenges us to grow.  King David had a friend like this in Jonathan who “loved David as he loved himself.” (I Samuel 20:17)  When David was literally running for his life and hiding in caves, Jonathan found David’s hiding place and “helped him find strength in God.” (I Samuel 23:16)

Do you have a partner in crime like Carissa who helps you find strength in God?  Once you have a comrade that sticks by your side through the grueling race called life you will never want to run alone again.

Persevering with you,

Jodi

PS: Check back next week for more details about race day!

(source)

Quite a few of you have asked me to write about why I chose to devote so many years of my life to teaching my children at home.

I started to try to write something about the pros and cons of every option- public school, private school, or home school. I just couldn’t get it right.  It seemed that no matter what I wrote, I ended up simply spouting an opinion, and that’s not what this page is about.

It really is my burning desire to write wise words gleaned from God’s Word.

Then I stumbled upon a post by my all time favorite blogger, Ann Voskamp. Her reasons for home schooling her own children are stated with more intelligence and eloquence than I could ever hope to put on paper.

If you are in that wisdom-seeking process of investigating the options and deciding what God wants for your family at this time, this post is worth mulling over.

Home schooling is not a wise choice for everyone. Nor is it the mark of a good and godly mother. It is simply one viable option for some families.

Someday soon I’ll post something about how to do public school well from a mother who has been there and seen her children thrive. Those of you who choose that option will need some wise words from wise women to make that work for your family.

And I’ll do the same for the private, Christian school option.

In the mean time, enjoy those children who grace your home. Relish every moment you have to teach and train and be with God’s gifts to you.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again:

This is the most important thing you will every do!

From my heart,

Diane

“The Name of the LORD is a strong tower;

The righteous runs into it and is safe.”

Proverbs 18:10

(source)

The Meaning of His Name:

In ancient Israel men and women often spent their days toiling in the fields surrounding their towns.  While sweating under the sweltering Mesopotamian sun, they kept a wary eye out for enemies whose antics threatened their survival.   In the time of the Judges, the beleaguered nation suffered for seven consecutive years from these invaders who would sweep in at harvest time to steal a season’s worth of supplies.  On their great lumbering camels, armed bohemian bandits overwhelmed the Jewish farmers, seriously jeopardizing their fight to survive. Year after year, hard working mothers and fathers watched in tears while their children were reduced to poverty because of these invaders.

Do you know how that feels?

Has an unexpected illness or a failed relationship stolen your future?

Have your dreams been swept away by the enemy?

Have you forgotten what it is to feel safe and secure?

Are you worried?

In answer to their dilemna, the men of the town would painstakingly build a tower out of mud bricks right in the middle of their village. It became a central defense fortress against these inevitable invaders. When the watchman sounded his alarm, the people would run into the strong tower and wait out the invasion. Supplied with food and water and their stored harvest, they could outlast their enemies, eventually emerging safely when the enemy rode away empty handed.

God gave Himself a name just for you: Migdal-oz. He is a Strong Tower.

Someone you can run into in times of fear or insecurity or doubt.

A place to hide.

A safe place.

But strong towers were not all that easy to enter.  There was always just one accessible opening through which the pursued could run.  No one stumbled in these ancient strongholds by accident. Once in, with great relief, the victim could bolt the door and live off a storage room of supplies until the danger passed.

Running into God as your Strong Tower is a purposeful, intentional plan of action. He wants us to run into Him before we try fighting back, before we wound with our words, before the enemy of our souls has a chance to destroy the harvest of our lives in one fell swoop.

Do you see why He calls Himself by such a name?

Are you learning the way into His refuge, heading there at the slightest hint of trouble?

Have you discovered yet that He is…a Strong Tower?

From my heart,

Diane

Psalm 61

2 Samuel 22- This is a beautiful song David wrote after he’d been safely delivered from a giant with six fingers on each hand and six toes on his feet. No sooner was the monster, Raphah defeated, when David was all but overcome by another massive warrior wielding an intimidating sword weighing 300 shekels (that’s a seven and a half pound sword!) Several of David’s friends saw what was happening and intervened to rescue David in one triumphant show of solidarity. Sounds like the kind of deliverance we all need at those overwhelming times of our lives!

Remember when I told you that God-centered exercise has an element of holiness to it?  My prayer is that you’ve experienced this holiness first-hand as you’ve practiced honoring God with your body.  In the off chance that you still think I’m crazy, I decided to share an old story with you that happened more than two years ago.  It was a holy moment and I hope it encourages you.

•••

I came home from a photo shoot with my kids (ranging in age from 3 to 7 years) promising to NEVER go anywhere with them again.  My wise husband urged me to put on my running shoes and trade the madness for some time with God.  I mapped out a ten-mile loop on the mountain behind our house and took off.

I cranked my worship music and started climbing, cresting the first peak around the three-mile mark.  The road turned to gravel and dropped down into a serene mountain valley.  As the forest closed in around me, I turned off my music to revel in the solitude.

My feet crunched the gravel in a rhythmic cadence. The delicious smell of leaves burning wafted through the air.  Birds serenaded me.  A mountain creek babbled.  Dogs barked and horses whinnied.  In the distance, saws squealed and hammers pounded. The cacophony of sound somehow sounded harmonious.

I turned off the gravel road and started a second and much larger climb.  I labored up the mountain, with each step exchanging frustration for peace.  When I finally emerged from the woods, I gasped at majestic Mt. Hood.  Cloaked in clouds, fog, and the last rays of sunlight, she towered in the distance grandly keeping watch over the tiny foothill I was climbing.

The wind that whispered gently at the start of my run increased in intensity as it whistled then whipped through the trees.  Branches danced to its melody and as I crested the final peak, I could see and feel the storm rolling in. I paused briefly at the summit to soak in the panoramic view of valleys, vineyards, forest and distant snow-capped peaks before starting my steep and fast descent.

The storm chased me down the mountain.  Friction from the road heated the bottom of my shoes.  Wind-induced tears rolled down my face and dried before I could wipe them away.  The trees sang as I raced down, down, down to the safety of my home below.  As our neighborhood came into view, I felt the first drop of rain on my face. My legs were tight, new blisters were forming on my toes, and my fingers were ice cold, but my soul was refreshed.

I couldn’t help but think of the time Elijah felt abandoned, scared and alone. God told him, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.” (Read I Kings 19 for the whole story.)  Elijah expected God to reveal Himself in the wind, earthquake, and fire, but the LORD chose a soft and gentle whisper to assure Elijah of His love and remind him of his purpose.

The LORD passed by me on my run. He whispered “You are not alone” in the thick forest.  He displayed His power in majestic Mt. Hood. He used the trees to sing me a love song. He dried my tears with the wind.  He restored my soul. The LORD passed by.

•••

• Will you share your the LORD passed by moment with us?  Email your story to hespeaks@ajesuschurch.org.  We want to hear from you.

• Make sure to tune in next week for information on what to expect on race day.

• Mark your calendar to volunteer at The Portland Running Company on Friday, June 10^th, any time between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m.  You have to pick up your packet.  Why not stay and volunteer?  If you can help, please email hespeaks@ajesuschurch.org and we’ll get you connected.

• We will have a tent set up on race morning.  Plan to come a little early to meet other athletes who have been training and pick up your Not Your Own wristband.

• Hang in there.  The end is in sight.  You can do it!

Persevering With You,

Jodi

…He Commands the Morning

Job 38:12

(source)

The dark hour before dawn wrapped its silence around me as I burrowed deeper beneath the comforter.  Mmh… that luscious sense of waking early, only to realize I can luxuriate in a couple more hours of sleep…ahh…sleep.

Then a whisper echoing over the silence,

Come

Blinking open sleep encrusted eyes, I peek out of my warm nest into the darkness.

Come!

This time I raise my head. Did someone call my name?  Who could be up?  My husband’s steady snoring assured me it wasn’t him.  Mmh…My imagination of course, a dream perhaps…back to sleep.

Come!

This time I startled awake.  What?  Who?

Come, My beloved.  Come meet with Me.

Could I be hearing right?  Could this inexplicable voice be my Lord’s?  Was He calling me to come to Him?

As I lay there wondering, I heard it one more time.

Come.

Reluctance fled and with it all sense of sleepiness.  Throwing back the covers, I padded downstairs with my heart pounding in anticipation.  What did He want?  Why would He wake me?  Was this real or was I going crazy?

Within moments I had my answers.

God wanted me.  He wanted me to be with Him.  And what’s more, He wanted to be with me. Just be.  Not to read my Bible, not to pray, not to do anything at all. Just be.

Curled up in the corner of the sofa, my Bible open on my lap, a steaming mug of tea in hand, He spoke to my heart.  Words of wisdom, words of delight poured over my heart that morning.  I felt lavished in His love.  Surrounded.  He simply wanted me.

And He still does.

“My heart has heard You say,

“Come and talk with Me.”

My heart responds ,

“Lord, I am coming.”

May your mornings be filled with the conversation.

From my heart,

Diane

For weeks now we have been talking about this insidious, all-too-pervasive problem of anger in our children.

We have recognized our own anger and learned when to not discipline because our own emotions are not under control. We have taken a long hard look at how God views outbursts of anger. And we’ve examined the inner workings of our lifestyle; those patterns we have fallen into that might provoke our poor kids to acting out of frustration at a too busy, too stressed, too messy life.

Now its time to get serious.

After all you’ve done to rework your own attitude and schedule, restructuring your home in such a way as to give your young children the best possible environment for success, Johnny gets mad. So mad that he throws himself on the floor, flinging toys and flailing limbs in a grand display of fury. What now?

Spank him.

This is the way of Scripture. It is the way of wisdom. And it works— eventually.

Now, I first have to qualify what a spanking is not.

What a spanking is not:

• A spanking is not a swat on the behind.

To go after your child with your hand raised in a force-filled display of adult power is not a biblical spanking! That’s hitting. That’s what a bully does.

• A spanking is not a last resort when all else fails.

Repeated warnings and time outs and yelling and scolding that eventually escalates to spanking is a dangerous use of discipline. Your child will not have any idea when “enough is enough” if you randomly reach for the next most forceful means of conveying your displeasure.

A wise parent matches the appropriate discipline to the behavior of the child.

• A spanking is not child abuse.

Nor is it illegal. A calm, loving, thought-through spanking is not out of control or damaging. It does not cause harm to the child— either emotionally or physically.

• A spanking is not random.

It is planned, explained, and anticipated as a direct result of disobedience.

• A spanking is not public.

A carefully processed spanking is private, between parent and child. It should be done behind closed doors with a minimum of fuss. It should never be used to shame your child, nor should it ever be done in front of others. Better to by-pass the needed spanking than to spank in a public place.

• A spanking is not corporal punishment.

A biblical spanking is not punishment at all. A punishment is giving someone what he or she deserves. To discipline is a form of training your child to respond in the right way— the way that will bring blessing into his or her life.

So, you’re not going to chase your child down, or swat his diaper protected little behind, or give him “what he deserves”. Instead, you are going to spank him.

How to spank:

• Identify what you will use to spank with.

Never use your hand. I want my hands to be used to comfort and calm, not to cause pain. That brief moment it takes to go and get the “spanking spoon”, gives you a few seconds to ask yourself if this spanking is being done in careful love.

• Find a private place.

Go to a quiet room away from others, close the door, and begin the process.

• Use concise, clear words to explain.

For very young children, the less words, the better. “No temper” is easily understood. An older child needs some explanation. But avoid a scolding at this point. You’ve already decided to spank him, keep shame away.

• Ask him to tell you why you are spanking him. Be specific.

It is important that you are sure you’ve communicated your heart to your child. If he thinks you are spanking him because you’re mad, then no heart change will happen on his part. He might not agree with you, but at least prompt him to identify why you have chosen to spank him.

• Three swats are plenty.

Less is more when it comes to a spanking. What you want is a soft, sorry child, not a terrified child writhing in pain.

• Gather him close.

When the spanking is over, draw him into your embrace and kiss his tears away. Cuddle, soothe, and rock him gently as his crying subsides. If he draws away from you, pull him back and tell him he must come into your embrace. Train him that this is a part of the process whether he wants it or not. You are giving him what he needs.

• Pray a blessing on him.

This is a time to thank God out loud for all the things you love about this child He has created. It is a time to believe with God in your child. Do not pray worried, scolding prayers in front of your child, lest he think God is mad at him. Save those for later when you are alone and crying out for wisdom.

• It’s done!

Never mention it again. Tell you husband privately so he gets a glimpse into the patterns you are dealing with, but don’t make this into a big family discussion. Your child sinned; you spanked him, and now its over.

That’s just how God disciplines us, and He calls it GRACE.

From my heart,

Diane

The best book I know about biblical discipline is Shepherding a Child’s Heart by Tedd Tripp. He thoroughly explains the why’s and how’s of spanking and the processes involved in shaping your child’s heart.