Transplant Time

I’m not much of a gardener. I’ve tried to garden a little, but to be perfectly honest, I’m not a fan of being outdoors, so most of my experience with plants has been with those in pots. When I first started out with a few houseplants about twenty-five years ago, my mom told me to watch certain plants that were in small containers. 

“That plant will eventually get too big for its container. It will become rootbound, and if you don’t transplant it to a different pot, it will die.”

Rootbound = when a plant’s roots are stopped by a barrier

Like the rootbound plant, sometimes we need to be transplanted.

Transplants represent life changes. They can be a change of actual location or a change of circumstances or a change of relationship. 

Even though God, our master caretaker, makes certain that transplants are for our ultimate good, sometimes transplants can be difficult . . . even painful. 

Take Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego for example. God didn’t cause their transplant into Babylon, but He allowed it. In Babylon, the three Hebrew children never forgot whose they were, and they never strayed from their convictions. Their steadfast faith impacted the entire nation! 

We read of many other transplants in the Bible. Joseph, Abraham, Esther, Ruth, David, Peter, Paul and many others were transplanted. Many of those transplants were painful, but they were all used by God for the saving of souls and for the growth and maturity of the one being transplanted. 

How about you? Are you being transplanted? Are you resisting that change, or are you allowing the Lord to work His will through it, which will ultimately allow you to grow beyond your current barriers into the mature Christian He is calling you to be? 

Yeast

In the gospel of Matthew Jesus refers to “the kingdom” over 50 times. Each time, He is teaching about what it’s like when you live as a citizen of God’s Kingdom on earth. One example is in Matthew 13:33, “He told them still another parable: “The kingdom of Heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about sixty pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough.” What a strange analogy! I’m not much of a cook, so thankfully Jesus explained the point of the comparison — yeast spreads completely in the dough. There isn’t a single part of the dough unaffected be the yeast. Such is the kingdom of Heaven.
When I was a teenager, I told myself that I would be a “moderate Christian.” My parents were over-the-top Christians who allowed their relationship to affect every part of their life. In my teenage brain I reasoned that I would be more moderate. I would be a person who was also a christian (with a little c) on the side. But I learned that that’s not the best way to live! The BEST way to live is to make sure that JESUS infiltrates every aspect of our lives! So, the way we treat others, handle our money, parent our kids, EVERYTHING is affected by Jesus! That’s where true living is found. That’s the Kingdom of Heaven!

Grounded

A female hiker at Lake Louise in Banff national park with mountains and forest in Canada.

Imagine these scenarios with me . . .

• You take your friend to a National Park Forest, and you are in awe of the vast scenery, the expanse of trees, the sounds and smells of nature, and your friend is fixated on a single weed that is sticking up out of the ground.
• You take your child to a lake to skip rocks, to catch fish, to go boating, and all your child can focus on is a single palm-full of water that he has scooped up into his hand.
• You and your sweetheart go to a huge city for a weekend away, and the two of you are taking in the breathtaking skyline, the lights, the monuments, the skyscrapers, the bridges, the speeding headlights of cars zooming back and forth on the highway, and your honey cannot tear his attention away from one streetlight that is out.

Wouldn’t the above situations be frustrating? The person you are with is hyper-focused on something so small and insignificant that they can’t see the big, beautiful picture in front of them. I believe this must be how our Lord feels when we fixate upon the temporary circumstances instead of what is eternal.

Remember how Jesus reacted when his disciples asked him about current politics? In Acts 1:6, they asked him, “Lord are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” Jesus simply responded with, “It is not for you to know the times of dates the Father has set by His own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:6-8)

He was essentially telling them to stop worrying about temporary matters and to be empowered for eternal matters.

Paul also addressed the problem of hyper-focus on the temporary. People were reducing the kingdom of God to a system of man-made rules, and Paul told them in Romans 14:17, “The kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.” In other words, quit focusing on temporal actions and focus on qualities that will last forever.

What happens to us when we become fixated on the here and now? Here’s the answer: If you are too focused on the temporary, you will stop maturing in the Lord, and you will eventually fall away. That’s what happens. When people become consumed with temporary issues – politics, a grievance with someone, a job, the cares of this life – they will stop growing spiritually.

How can we avoid being hyper-focused on the here and the now? The answer is this: Be grounded. A giant tree is not swayed by the strongest winds because it is grounded. You will not be swayed by temporary issues if you have deep roots. If we plant ourselves in God’s word, meditating on it daily, if we plant ourselves in God’s house, worshipping there regularly, if we plant ourselves in an active prayer life, speaking to the Lord without ceasing – then we will be GROUNDED, and then we can appreciate the big, beautiful picture the Lord wants us to see. When we see the big picture, we will be comforted, because then we will know that God is in control, and He has a plan far better than we can ever imagine!

 

 

 

 

 

So, I Did a Thing

So, I did a thing.

The years & books & computer screens have been unkind to my eyes, rendering me useless in putting on my own eyeliner. The last couple of years my eyeliner has started to look more and more like an uncoordinated kindergartener with a fat, black crayon drew it on. 

Thus the reasoning for the thing I did, the crazy, slightly painful thing. I got permanent eyeliner. Essentially tattoos on my eyes. 

(If my grandmother were to read this, she’d gasp in horror.)

But, here’s the deal. I had a great aunt Edna who tried to apply her own makeup at 85 years old & we mean teenagers giggled at her behind her back. 

Maybe I’m reaping what I sowed? Maybe I’m somehow being paid back for laughing at a poor sweet octogenarian who just wanted to look pretty? 

Perhaps. 

But, I decided I don’t want to look like Edna. Not just yet. There’s still youth in this 44 year old! 

So, here’s the takeaway: Age isn’t a number. It’s a state of mind! I intend to grow old gracefully – to grow in wisdom & maturity. But I intend to fight for the good aspects of youth – the energy, the passion, and yes . . . Decent looking makeup! 

 

 

And We Know, That in ALL Things

When my middle son, Keaton, was nine years old he could not read. He was also very uncoordinated. He played on baseball teams for years, but could never catch or hit a ball. He would trip over his own feet when he ran. He was awkward. When he talked to people, he would get too close, like he didn’t understand personal space.

As a mom, you want your child to be successful in school, in sports, in everything he wants to do, and to have a son who struggled so much was heartbreaking. The fear, worry, and even guilt would weigh on me. Am I not working with him enough? Have I done something wrong? Has he been overlooked because he is the middle child? What will become of him if he can’t read?

The anxiety I felt kept me awake at night. I experienced shortness of breath, a tightness in my chest, and my heart would feel like it was beating a million times a second. A doctor told me that nothing was wrong with my heart, though. I was having panic attacks.

My daily prayer was something like this . . .

Dear Lord, could you please just help Keaton to be able to read enough to get by? Please help him to make passing grades. I’m not asking for him to make the honor roll, just let him be able to one day graduate.

One day while I prayed this underwhelming prayer, I felt the Lord tell me to ask for more. I felt a strong conviction that I needed to believe for a greater miracle for Keaton.

Um, okay, then I pray that Keaton would make above average grades.

Pray for more.

Really, Lord? I mean, have you seen his report card? Straight F’s. The teacher says he is reading at a kindergarten level at best. You want me to believe for more?

Yes.

            I usually walk when I pray. That particular morning, I was walking around and around my bedroom as I prayed. I stopped walking and took a deep breath.

Okay Lord, please heal Keaton all the way. Whatever is wrong with him – learning disability, behavioral problem, medical problem – whatever it is, please heal him. Lord, I pray that you would work a miracle for my son. I pray that not only would Keaton be able to read, but I pray that he would be at the top of his class. I pray that he would not just make the honor roll, but that he would make straight A’s. I pray that he would be the valedictorian of his class. I pray that he would excel in sports and anything and everything he does. In the name of Jesus I pray. Amen.

I prayed like that for about a year. Then, upon the advice of a teacher, we took Keaton to an eye specialist. The specialist diagnosed Keaton with multiple developmental eye problems. He had trouble with depth perception, his eyes didn’t work together, and he couldn’t follow, or track, with his eyes. The eye doctor told us that Keaton needed a year of eye therapy that would be very expensive. He also suggested we enroll him in a sport that involved both sides of the body working together to encourage his eyes to work together. He suggested either swimming or martial arts.

We paid three thousand dollars for the eye therapy, for a year drove forty minutes one way twice a week to therapy sessions, did daily exercises at home, and joined a swim team. Watching my short chubby nine-year-old flop into the pool was hilarious. All of the other swimmers were skinny kids who wore Speedos. Keaton was quite chubby and didn’t feel comfortable in the tiny, revealing swimsuits everyone else wore, so he wore long, baggy Bermuda swim trunks and a swim shirt. It took him years to learn how to dive, so for a long time he did a belly buster at the start of every race. He absolutely loved swimming, though.

We made the difficult decision to make him repeat fourth grade. His fifth-grade year, something happened that had never happened before – he scored on grade level on his reading tests! Coincidentally, (Of course I write that ironically. I no longer believe in coincidences. I believe in God’s hand at work in our lives, arranging things just as they should be.) the year Keaton was in the sixth grade I had a job as a sixth-grade reading specialist. I’m not even certified to be a reading specialist. My degree is in English Education. I had always taught high school English classes and was surprised when I was given that job. Now I know. God wanted me to witness the miracle first hand.

Keaton was placed in my class for struggling readers. I tested his reading level every quarter, and by the end of the year, he scored an advanced score – reading on an eighth-grade level! His grades also got better and better every year. The next year, when he was in the seventh grade, a teacher thought he might be gifted. The school tested him, identified him as having an incredibly high IQ, and placed him in the gifted and talented program. No one was more surprised than Keaton.

He stayed in swim. During the school years, fourth grade through seventh grade he swam on the YMCA indoor swim team. In the summers, fourth grade through ninth grade, he swam with the community outdoor swim team. As all boys’ bodies do, his body dramatically changed. By the time he was in ninth grade he was six feet tall and weighed about one hundred and forty-five pounds with wide shoulders and long arms and legs like an Olympic swimmer.

Now Keaton is in the tenth grade, takes Advanced Placement classes, makes mostly A’s (Last semester he did get a B in math but all the others were A’s!), sings in show choir, plays football, runs track, and is on the swim team. At his last swim meet, he placed first in the 200-meter freestyle! His dream is to attend college on a swim scholarship, and to one day be a pastor.

I think I now know part of the reason Keaton had to endure that difficult time of his life. You see, now Keaton is the most compassionate person you will ever meet. When he walks into a room, if there is someone in that room who is alone, or different, or marginalized in any way, that is the person Keaton will make a beeline toward and make sure he is their new best friend. He remembers when he was the weird, uncoordinated, little kid who couldn’t read. I pray he never loses that compassion. Also, this may be a minor thing, but he never would’ve joined a swim team had it not been for his eye problems. Also, because of the experience, my family has a greater faith, and we have been able to tell Keaton’s testimony to many anxiety-ridden parents and increased their faith as well. Keaton certainly isn’t perfect. He’s a normal seventeen-year-old kid, and as I’m writing this chapter, he is currently grounded from his phone for something stupid he did, but he has a tender heart for the Lord and a calling on his life to be a full-time minister, and I am so proud of him.

I’ve heard it said that “Hindsight is twenty-twenty.” It’s easy to look in the rearview mirror and see how something good was a result of something bad. It’s harder to see it when you’re in the middle of the bad. If you’re in the middle and anxiety is your companion, I encourage you to BELIEVE what you cannot see yet. BELIEVE that God WILL make something good come out of your circumstances. BELIEVE that this promise is for you:

Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (NIV)

 

Book Review – Satisfied by Jeff Manion

“It is possible to live a life of deep joy while not having everything you want.”

 

“Many of us attempt to heal the wounds of the past by overfilling our already-full homes.”

 

“My identity does not depend on what I buy. My identity rests in who bought me.”

 

“Generosity is at the core of the satisfied life.”

 

The above quotes are a few of the ones I underlined as I read “Satisfied” by Jeff Manion. This book reminded me to be more grateful for what I have and that comparison is the thief of joy. It encouraged me to be a blessing to others and to give freely. Everyone who knows me knows that I’m a fiction book reader. I am a read-for-pleasure-not-for-growth type of person, but this book actually held my attention, more than that, I loved it.

I’ll be honest. This book was deeply convicting to me. Like most middle-class Americans, I am guilty of always wanting more – a better car, the latest fashions, a better vacation this year than last year – and I often forget how truly rich I am. In “Satisfied,” Manion focuses on dissatisfaction in finances, but I found myself thinking of other areas in which I have unhealthy dissatisfaction. As I read the book, I was convicted for dissatisfaction with my physical appearance. The Lord reminded me, just like I need to be content with my finances, I should be content with my looks as well.

I’m considering using this book for a small group study. It’s easy to read, and the chapters are short with reflection/discussion questions and a project with actionable steps to take at the end.

What do you know? Martha actually liked a nonfiction book!

 

 

The No-Drama Mama

We were at the Wal-Mart Supercenter in Van Buren, Arkansas. It was my weekly grocery shopping trip, a dreaded, but necessary task.

“I’ll help you pick that up, Mama. It’s too heavy for you,” my three-year-old, Kale, told me as he stood up in the grocery cart.

“Sit back down, right now. I’ve got it.”

As I bent to pull the humongous bag of dog food from the shelf, my ten-month-old let out a deafening scream.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” I rushed to my baby who was sitting in the seat of the cart with his chubby legs sticking straight out of the leg holes. Tears were already forming in his eyes and his face was bright red. He pointed to the cart at his two brothers who squatted inside with angelic faces.

“We didn’t do it!” My two-year-old, Keaton, professed his innocence.

“Karter wouldn’t cry for no reason and then point to you just to get you into trouble.”

Let me pause here and say that in the fourteen years that have passed since that day I have learned that Karter would, in fact, do just that . . . often.

Karter’s crying continued, and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. He held his hands out to me, begging me to take him out of the cart, and I caved.

Let me pause again and say that I have since learned that my youngest child can be quite manipulative.

So, I held my stocky baby with his crazy, wavy, thick brown hair and quivering lips as I stood in the dog food aisle wondering how I was going to get a twenty-pound sack of dog food into the cart with a baby on my hip.

“I’ll get it for you, Mama.” Kale, always the helper, stood and threw a leg over the side of the cart, preparing to jump out.

“No, no, don’t –”

It was one of those moments that seemed to happen in slow motion. I saw what was going to happen before it happened, but couldn’t react quickly enough. The metal grocery buggy, containing half of my grocery list and my two older boys, fell over on its side. Poor Keaton and Kale screamed as it fell and then crashed to the ground. After they were over the shock of the cart falling, they looked at each other and began laughing.

“Martha, is everything okay?”

Just my luck. Of course, someone would see me like this – messy ponytail, no make-up, screaming children, toppled grocery cart.

I turned on a fake smile and said hello to the woman and her teenage son who stood at the end of the dog food aisle.

“I knew that was you! When we walked in the entrance, I heard you. I told my son, that sounds like the pastor’s family.”

I laughed like I thought it was funny that when they heard children’s screams in the grocery store they immediately thought of my family.

They helped me raise the cart, gather the spilled groceries, and set the boys back into their places, and I thanked them and chatted with them for a few minutes, but the whole time we talked the same thought kept running through my mind: I just wish I could go to the grocery store without causing such a ruckus that everyone in the whole store knew I was there.

 

Those noisy trips to the grocery store have long past for me. Now that my boys are all teenagers and don’t have to accompany me everywhere I go, my shopping trips are quite peaceful. However, there are plenty of other areas of my life that are still noisy and chaotic.

     That’s the mom life, though, isn’t it? Messes, accidents, noise, dirt – all of these are part of the package, and there’s nothing wrong with that. However, there is another level of chaos that has become very important to me to avoid.

What I want to avoid is drama.

 

We are going to have trouble in this life. As a mom, your child will get sick, your husband will irritate you sometimes, your appliances will break, you will be late for work, you might be involved in a car wreck, be sued, lose a job, and on and on. In John 16:33, Jesus assured us that we will have trouble.

     John 16:33, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (New International Version)

None of us want trouble, but it is unavoidable. Drama, on the other hand, is avoidable. It is possible to face trouble without drama. I’ve decided that I don’t want to throw tantrums, give people the silent treatment, get into Facebook wars with people, cry uncontrollably, suffer overwhelming depression, hold offense, or let fear rule my emotions. I want to have the fruits of the Spirit evident in my life.

Galatians 5:22-23, “But the fruit that the Spirit produces in a person’s life is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these kinds of things.” (Easy-to-Read Version)

Is it possible to face difficult times with peace in our hearts? Yes, it is! Is it possible to go through persecution and maintain love toward those persecuting us? Yes, it is! Is it possible to be in the middle of great trouble and have joy? Yes, it is! The key is found at the beginning of Galatians 5:22 . . . “The fruit that the Spirit produces.” We must abide in the Spirit if we want these fruits. John 15:1-8 expounds on the idea of abiding, or dwelling, or living each and every day in the Spirit.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are called the fruit of the spirit. That means they are the outcome of a life lived in the spirit. These attributes are not something you can force yourself to do in your own strength for very long. You must have the Holy Spirit living in you and you must abide in the Lord.

I encourage you today that as you begin to abide in the Lord, you WILL experience the joy and peace that comes from being a No-Drama Mama!

My book, How to Have a Drama Free Life is available now!

Hold Onto Your Joy!

Most of us have been there. We’ve been in line at the buffet in grandma’s kitchen with a paper plate in our hand, or sitting around the table at our in-laws house, or maybe crowded around the Christmas tree with our loved ones when one of our relatives says something hurtful or discouraging. Whether it’s a wisecrack about how much weight you’ve gained or a scoffing remark at your son’s dreams or an eyeroll at the lasagna rolls your brought, whatever words that were spoken or facial expressions that were made, they hurt you . . . deeply.

Now that the holidays are over and you’re packing away the tree and spending the gift cards that you were given, maybe you’re also mulling over what was done to you. Maybe you’ve been thinking about it so much that you just can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re planning words you’ll retaliate with the next time you see them. Maybe you’ve internalized the put-downs, and now you believe that what they said about you is true. Maybe those hurtful words are the first things you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about when you go to bed.

You hate to admit it, but you think, “What happened to that joy I used to have? That relative who said that STOLE MY JOY!”

But, I’m here to remind you that Jesus told us He would give us a joy that “no one can take away!”

If you know Jesus as your Savior, NO ONE CAN STEAL YOUR JOY! So, what happened? You GAVE your joy away!

When I was a kid, we used to sing a song in church that said, “This joy that I have the world didn’t give it to me – the world didn’t give it and the world can’t take it away.” Anybody remember that old song?

Here is a New Years Challenge – Decide to LIVE IN THE JOY that Jesus has for you. Decide that you aren’t going to give it away. Stop rehearsing and re-playing the hurtful things that were said or done to you, and choose to live in the perfect JOY that only Jesus can give!

My Bedroom Carpet

When we built our house ten years ago, we decided to not put very much carpet in it. After years of cleaning carpet stains and eradicating smells from carpet, we decided it was time for the Fouts Family to live the life of the carpet-free. We were ecstatic – hardwood floors and tile was all it was going to be for us in our brand-new house! That was the plan, anyway. Until it came to our bedroom.

As we were finishing up our master bedroom, I started to have doubts about hardwood floors in the room in which my feet would hit the ground straight out of bed each morning. Even though we discussed area rugs around the bed, I still just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of hardwood floors in my bedroom. It just seemed cold, somehow. It just didn’t fit.

So, after much discussion and debate, we decided to get carpet in the master bedroom and in the master bedroom only. (That would be for me, aka mom, the princess.) I got to pick it out and everything. For a few years, I loved it. It’s the perfect oatmealy color and loosely looped shag that I wanted.

Of course, that was before someone spilled fruit punch on it.

And the outdoor water faucet on the opposite side of the wall burst and leaked.

Four times.

Now, over a decade later, my Pinterest boards are filled with pictures of master bedrooms with hardwood floors and area rugs.

However, even though I have so many reasons to detest my bedroom carpet, there is one reason I still like it – the Prayer Trail.

You see, I’ve developed this strange habit that when I pray, I walk. Round and round my bedroom. Over the years this prayer walking has worn a path that has special meaning in my heart. That path has been walked unenthusiastically by a tired mom who was just completing her regular morning ritual of praying for her family, and that path has been walked by a woman who was so moved by desperate circumstances that her prayer walking was so intense it’s a wonder her feet moving across the carpet didn’t spark a fire.

I remember requests I prayed on that carpet that seemed like they’d never be answered. For days, weeks, months, years, prayer walking and tongue talking for specific needs that seemed impossible – but then, finally, miraculously, in God’s timing, those prayers were answered! And right now, with three teenage boys and pastoring a church and just life in general, it seems like there’s always something that needs to be brought to the path.

And so I walk. Round and round. Sometimes I trudge, exhausted ″from the day and from how cruel and frustrating people can be, and sometimes I almost dance, overjoyed at the results of answered prayers.

            I don’t know how people who don’t communicate with the Lord make it. I really don’t. This life is so complicated and confusing and heartbreaking that I can’t imagine trying to navigate my own way through it.

If you haven’t ever claimed a Prayer Place, I encourage you to do so.  There’s just something about having a go-to spot, a dedicated time and place that you meet with the Lord. It gives me great hope when I can look back and remember prayers I prayed in that place that seemed like they’d never be answered – and they were.

What about you? Do you have a prayer path worn smooth in your carpet? Do you have a closet dedicated to prayer? Knee prints in the rug next to your bed? An outdoor spot that’s your meeting place with the Lord? Please share! I’d love to hear where you pray, and how the prayers you’ve prayed in that sacred location have enriched your ministry, your family, and your life.

The Bad Hair Day Blues

Grab a microphone and sing along if you know what it’s like to have

the Bad Hair Day Blues!

Maybe your alarm didn’t sound,

or the humidity is 98% percent,

Your bangs refused to lay down

or your hair dryer was on the fritz,

Whatever the cause, whatever the reason,

Even if your outfit’s on point from your dress to your shoes,

None of that matters when

You’ve got the Bad Hair Day Blues.

At first you try to fix it with all your hairstyle powers,

but then you realize the only thing you could do

would be to stick your head back in the shower,

and at that point there’s no time for a hairdo re-do,

Because you can’t be late one more time, your boss said.

So you grit your teeth and slap on extra lipstick,

Cause no matter how much you try to re-arrange that mess on your head,

you’ll just have to accept that today’s bad hair ain’t gonna change a lick.

So you ignore the out-of-place curl.

You try not to think about the frizz on the side of your face,

And your day goes okay, despite a few funny looks from that mean girl,

But you smile at her cause someday she’ll need some grace,

And you discover that even though your hair looks affright

You’re still pretty cute, and you’re still alright.

So, come on you gals with the not-so-perfect hair,

Let’s kick those blues to the curb,

Focus on what matters and set your mood straight.

Today can be great, even if your hair ain’t!