Author: Wick

Here we go again with another “Five Minute Friday” post!  To learn more about “Five Minute Friday” (FMF), check out the linked image here.  Basically, each week there’s a word given for you to write about.  You start writing, no back-tracking, editing, etc.  At the end of 5 minutes, you stop.  Then you post it, and share in the community of words that were birthed during these 24-ish hours.  It’s cool stuff.
So here’s this week’s response to the word: “ bare  ”

Unfortunate, but true – with today’s culture and accidental access to overly revealing flesh fests (we censored Beyonce at the youth group Superbowl party – poor girl forgot to get dressed for a big concert….), we’ve seen much more of the human body laid “bare” before us than is necessary.  But I remember the first time I saw someone completely bare for the first time in person.

It was my freshman year in college, and I was at a campground with some friends (don’t worry, this isn’t going where you think it might), and we were enjoying a normal night of hanging out.  The attractive guy was playing guitar while the girls were singing, and somewhere in the midst I was poking sticks in the fire.

I’m a ridiculous morning person, especially when camping in a tent.  When the sun comes up, my body follows.   So while my friends stayed groggy in the tents, I wandered down to the lake nearby to talk to a guy who was up fishing earlier than I knew people fished.  That’s when I looked over – there they were.  An entire family – mother, father, kids, all washing themselves completely naked in the handpump in the middle of this campground.

Maybe it was just a fathers’ poor planning, and the family decided to do something silly to encourage their dad.  But it seemed to me, this was a family in need.  A family that was just barely getting by, living in poverty at a campground just outside a major city.

I remember the brokenness of the world I felt in that moment.  I remember what I saw was not simply the nakedness of these human beings…but the nakedness of our world in need.  For one of the first times, even after rough times growing up, real injustice was crying out…uncovered….for all the world to see and hear.

May we live as people willing to see and hear the cries of those laid bare all around us.  May we clothe the naked with justice….

Okay, so I went 6 minutes there.  You’ll have to “bare” with me….haha. (see what I did there?)

Galatians 4:28, “Now you, brothers, Like Isaac, are children of promise.”

This past Monday we went on a “Daycation”.  Our kids had gathered enough “reward marbles in the jar” that we took a homeschool field trip to Saint Louis as a family.  Armed with coupons and special deals, we set out for the day.  We spent a couple hours at The Magic House.  We ate crepes at “Rooster”, where our oldest daughter lost her front tooth. (sidenote: I’m in trouble if our kids ever get seriously injured in front of me….I got so queasy at just the amount of blood/missing space when that tooth came out and she handed it to me with a giant pirate grin)

After lunch, we went over to the Science Center to catch (the only decent kids movie in theaters currently) “Flight of the Butterflies“, a real-life Disney-type story of a scientist who investigated where the Monarchs go every year.  It’s seriously a pretty cool story, that I think deserves an actual movie – but that’s another blog post.  What struck me is the actual science behind the butterflies migrating to Mexico each winter.

It’s not as simple as it sounds.  Not every Monarch that’s born, is destined for Mexico.  Most of them only live about 6-8 weeks outside of hibernation.  In fact, it’s only the 3rd generation each year that has the weight, the wing span, and the natural instinct to make the journey.  The first generation is born of a Monarch that came from Mexico….let’s say around northern Texas.  That butterfly goes north to find good breeding grounds of milkweed.  It finally chooses a spot after mating, this one closer to Indiana.  That butterfly heads north as the weather continues to change and finds itself choosing a place to lay eggs up in Quebec.

So far, the destiny of each butterfly has been to provide a good foundation for the generations to come after them.  They are born, they fly north a bit, they lay eggs and die.  But then comes this “generation of promise”.  You can tell, even as a caterpillar, this is no ordinary insect.  From Quebec, this butterfly will make the journey all the way to the middle of Mexico, up in the mountains.  In the Spring, it will return North again to lay its eggs.

There are quite a few different directions you can go with this, but here’s mine:  I want my kids to know they are the “children of promise”.  To speak enough faith, hope, and love into their lives, that they realize God has given them the ability to join Him in transforming the world in ways only they can.

In fact, I want my kids to go to Mexico so bad, I’d be willing to die in the Midwest if it helped. 🙂  Thankfully the illustration doesn’t stretch that far.  God has not only enabled my children to be a part of this “children of promise”, but includes me as well.  That as a family, we can accomplish things for God that Abraham and Sarah could only dream of.  By becoming New Creations, living from the New Life of the Spirit of God that has been poured out, connecting us to the Father in Christ…our Love is more than positive energy.  It is the Kingdom coming…

Here we go again with another “Five Minute Friday” post!  To learn more about “Five Minute Friday” (FMF), check out the linked image here.  Basically, each week there’s a word given for you to write about.  You start writing, no back-tracking, editing, etc.  At the end of 5 minutes, you stop.  Then you post it, and share in the community of words that were birthed during these 24-ish hours.  It’s cool stuff.
So here’s this week’s response to the word: “ afraid ”

She’s been doing it for quite a while now.  I know every parent with more experience will smile and tell us to “treasure these moments”, and we totally do.  But when you end up getting a heal to the nose more than once a night, the desire to teach your 5 year old where to sleep grows within you.  Every morning we ask her, “hun, what made you want to come to mommy and daddy’s bed last night?”

More often than not, she confesses, “I heard the train.”

We’ve explained to her what every reasonable person can understand.  Trains run on tracks.  There’s no way an engine pulling cars could be chugging along, take a look to the side and notice our home half a mile from where the tracks run and decide to head our direction instead.  We’ve laughed at how cute it is, that she might think a train could end up coming down our Avenue.  She smiles, and we understand there’s probably something deeper going on anyways, and work together towards overcoming it.

But there was that one time, just a few weeks ago, as we drove past a set of unused portion of tracks.  We were forced to slow down as we noticed 7 train cars de-railed and sitting in the field next to the hill the tracks run along top of.  A train was accidentally pushed too far onto old tracks.  We instantly knew what seeing this would do to our fragile girls’ bedtime fear.  We assured her…trains that DO go off tracks sometimes, don’t go very far at least?  There’s consolation there? 🙂

It’s a simple issue really.   She’s 5.  Trains make noise.  She loves mommy and daddy and our comfy, safe bed.

But someday she will learn what it means….yes, sometimes trains do go off the tracks.  Unexpected things happen. We don’t have control over our lives.  But God is with us.  Now, through the noisy whistle.  And then, through whatever may come.  She will learn how to draw near to her Father when she is afraid…

(fist pump in the air)  That one went pretty sweet.  🙂