Whoa Baby

Yesterday our 4-year-old prayed that God would bring her a baby. It seems she's grown tired of her younger brother, and I suppose I understand. Being that they're 20 months apart, Katie doesn't remember a time without him around and she ready to play mommy.

Little does our eldest know, God has already granted her request. In another eight months or so, Aaron and I expect to bring home a third child.

Baby Johnson #3 is our surprise pregnancy, although I don't know how shocked we should be. Aaron and I have a rather sensitive combo of aggressive sperm and weak-willed eggs. With Katie, we were pregnant by the second month of trying; with Adam, one. This one kinda snuck up on us, but we know already that he or she is from the Lord, and here's why:

For the last year or so, Aaron and I had been going round and round about whether to have another baby. Aaron had always wanted just two, and when Adam came he'd gotten one of each, which in Aaron's mind meant we were done. For me, the magic number was three. But ever since Adam was old enough to walk and we had two toddlers on our hands, we discovered how challenging parenthood could be. It's been difficult dealing with the constant disobedience, potty-training, sibling spats, long hours and little time for one another. Now that Katie is officially out of diapers and the two of them in preschool this coming fall, Aaron and I were seeing a little more freedom in our days, enjoying a little more time for ourselves and even getting to vacation alone once a year.

Still, there was something in me that wanted number three. I'll be 35 next month (So, yes, I'll have the added indignity of having "Advanced Maternal Age" stamped on my chart.), and I'm definitely sensing my child-bearing years coming to an end. And the thought of Adam being me last just broke my heart. I tearfully told Aaron several weeks ago that I couldn't explain my intense longing for another baby even though it meant more stress, but I couldn't deny it was there. Reiterating that he just didn't think we could handle another, Aaron did something that illustrates the reason I love him most - he took my hand and prayed for God's will for our family.

Two weeks later, I was pregnant. The moral of the story, of course, is that if you ask God for something you know He'll agree with, it's as good as done.

I was a little apprehensive about informing my husband we were having another baby, but God gave him the grace to tell me that God's will is good enough for him. So I'm glad to say we're both looking forward to his or her arrival in the fall.

It's early, so I'm uncertain of my due date, although it should be in late October. I'm sick. I'm overwhelmingly fatigued. But I'm happy to tell you once again that God is good all the time.

Super Bad Sunday

Since becoming a mom, I've taken to praying in the shower. I still pray outside of the shower, of course, but most of my intimate conversations with the Lord take place amid the near-scalding cascade of water because it's the only place in the house where I'm truly alone. No one is pulling or climbing on me, and all requests for snacks or sibling interventions are referred to Daddy.

This morning's time with the Lord was so sweet. It's Sunday, which meant I was looking forward to roughly three hours of time in worship and fellowship with Christian friends. There's a certain bliss in being able to focus on my relationship with Christ without interruption, knowing my kids are being cared for by people who will share the Gospel with them. Our church was beginning a new sermon series this weekend which would take the congregation through the entire Bible in one year. Aaron and I were to start leading a small group of new church members in a Discover Group session after the sermon - a service we love to perform together. Plus, being Super Bowl Sunday, I also was looking forward to tonight's party with my Sunday school class which also would feature childcare. So as I spoke with the Lord, I asked Him to help me put all distractions out of my mind this morning so I could worship the only one worthy, and I looked forward to a day with two lovely breaks from the stresses of parental duties. I opened my eyes to see, through the haze of steamed-up glass, my 2-year-old son laying on the bath mat outside the shower stall nuzzling his blanket. I smiled, touched by my little boy's need to be near his mommy.

Just a few minutes passed before I noticed that Adam's eyes were crusty and bloodshot, and suddenly my worshipful outlook and warm fuzzies had dissipated as quickly as had the steam in my shower. Was it his allergies or was he sick? Unwilling to take a chance on the latter, my husband and I decided to keep Adam out of childcare and listen to the sermon with him in the cry room just outside the sanctuary. I was to take the kids back home after the first hour, leaving Aaron to lead our small group alone. This also meant one of us would have to stay at home with the kids tonight while the other went to the party. Last year, when both came down with colds on Super Bowl weekend, I was the designated nurse. And did I mention that I was nearly finished getting ready by the time we'd decided on this plan? Good hair day. New outfit. Full makeup, including mascara. These things don't come together every day. And, brother, I looked cute... to spend most of the day at home with the kids... like every other day of the week.

I was incensed.

We struggled to get out the door by 8:30 a.m., meaning we'd barely make it in time for service to begin, and the kids were difficult all the way into church. Four-year-old Katie was extra clingy, demanding to be carried across the parking lot and crying when we dropped her off in her class. We herded a very excited Adam to a cry room on one side of the sanctuary, but since it was already full we headed to another one on the opposite side. In the mean time, music for the service began and my heart sank further, as I love worshipping in song.

The three of us finally made it to the other cry room, which to my great relief was empty because I had some crying to do. And I did sob. But it wasn't so much out of frustration as it was in being reminded of how incredibly selfish I am. Lord God, you have given me such riches - a life everlasting made possible by Christ's sacrifice, a husband who treats me with love and patience, two healthy children who bring me so much joy and much, much more! How could I be so easily distracted by a disruption in my plans for the day? How could I be that easily be discouraged when so many of my brothers and sisters in Christ are living in poverty to deliver your Gospel to the unreached? How could you possibly love this heart of mine, Lord, when I can't stand it myself?

Tears still run down my once made-up face as I recount this morning's glance into a mirror. What I saw was ugly. At the same time, I'm filled with the wonder of knowing my Father sees the beauty He will make of it, and I'm grateful. So grateful for His refinement, and so looking forward to being freed from the blackness of the human heart. He'll give me one like His.

This was 2011, Johnson style

Merry Christmas from the Johnsons!

Warmest Christmas greetings to all our friends and family! We hope 2011 has been good to each of you and thought we'd fill you in on what's been going on in our world this year.

We continued to be "the traveling Johnsons." Aaron and I celebrated our fifth anniversary with a Caribbean cruise. Those of you who know my husband well won't be surprised that Aaron wanted to go all out: He booked the cruise on the largest cruise ship in the world. It doesn't fit in regular ports! The boat was packed with amazing restaurants, amenities and stuff to do, but truly the best part about the trip was being able to reconnect as a couple for the first time since babies came into our lives. We followed that with a trip with the kids to Myrtle Beach with the Holbrook side of the family, and then to upstate New York with Aaron's mom and his sister's family.

As you can see from the photo above, life gets a little crazy around our place but we're loving every minute of it. Sure, there are more dignified shots of all of us out there. But what would be the fun in that?

Aaron
I graduated from the two-year Discipleship Curriculum (DC) program and became a co-leader of another DC group this fall. I have really enjoyed a comprehensive study of the entire Bible, church history and tough theological questions.
I was promoted to Vice President of Investments at Marcus & Millichap, where I continue in my niche market of selling Kentucky apartment communities. Work has picked up this year, and some days are more eventful than others. One day in the office I heard more than the usual amount of sirens outside and proceeded to videotape through our office window as 20 police cars surrounded a murder suspect. After a tense standoff, he surrendered peacefully, and I got my five seconds of fame on the local news.
I still play ultimate Frisbee every Thursday night, although I really miss Hawaii during our winter games.
Beyond that it is all about keeping up with two very active toddlers. School never prepared me for this!

Tonia
Honestly, most of this year has been spent carrying out mommy duties, staying active at church and largely ignoring my blog. I ache to write on a more consistent basis, but the days just seem to get shorter and shorter. Could it be that my parents were right about time moving faster as we age?
Most of my days are spent with Katie and Adam, two of the biggest blessings a girl could have in her life. As Aaron mentioned, these two keep us on our toes and remind me this truly is the most important thing I could be doing right now. I wouldn't trade our time together for anything, but it sure is nice when that shared time includes a nap!
I'll be finishing up with my DC group this spring and will most likely follow Aaron in co-leading a new group beginning this fall. I must say DC has been a highlight of my life over the last year and a half. Not only have I been learning more Scripture and growing in my walk with Christ, but also I've cultivated what I hope will be lifelong authentic relationships with a handful of other godly women. Those ladies have meant the world to me - a true gift from God. Speaking of the Lord, I've grown more in love with Him than ever and can't wait to see what He has in store in the year to come!

Katie

It's been a big fall for our firstborn, as she began preschool. It was an easy transition because the school is located in the same church Katie and Adam have attended for Mother's Day Out for the last two years. She loves school and enjoys spending time with her new little girlfriends. Princesses all, they helped her celebrate her fourth birthday, along with a couple of little fellas.
This year saw Katie's love for all things princess-related blossom, which is fitting because she plays the role well. Katie loves to dance around and host tea parties in her room - and, no, her brother is never invited. She has developed an affinity for "lipstick" (Chapstick) and jewelry but seems to have picked up on the less-is-more theory of self-embellishment. On the night of her birthday party, she had placed a plastic jeweled ring on each of her fingers. She looked up at Mommy and asked, "Is this too much?"
Katie continues to be a spunky little delight in our lives, and we enjoy watching her grow!

Adam
Our little blondie has gone from baby to little boy in no time. People react in surprise when he opens his mouth and out pours whole paragraphs. We're not surprised, of course - he's the product of a man with a speech degree and a woman schooled in journalism. And then some things he says just make us laugh. His latest trend is to use "fe, fi, fo, fum" as an adjective. "That's a big, giant fe-fi-fo-fum cookie." "Mommy, I've got a fe-fi-fo-fum booboo." You name it, it's fe, fi, fo, fum.
Always on the move, Adam is all boy and likes to run, jump and play with cars and trains. One favorite memory from this summer was when he spotted a tiny green tree frog in our back yard. We put it in a bug catcher and observed it overnight before releasing it to the great outdoors again. The kids were fascinated, and Adam was particularly gentle, seemingly mindful of the frog's fragility. Being that Adam doesn't hold still for much, we think he may have inherited his daddy's love for animal life.
Another big development in Adam's world this year was saying goodbye to the last of his beloved binkys. He's coping better than we feared but still asks about it from time to time. So if he asks, please remind him it's broken.

Here's hoping you and yours enjoy a fe-fi-fo-fum Christmas and a happy New Year!

The Johnsons
Aaron, Tonia, Katie and Adam

Weeding

I recently spent about an hour of my much-coveted "nap time" outside pulling weeds in our front flower bed. Before I go any further, I must confess no claim to said flowers; they were planted by our house's previous owner. As I have mentioned previously on this blog, I kill plants and therefore seldom bother with them. In fact, the only green things I've had any luck with are weeds. I only seek to rid our front flower bed of the beasts because they're visible from the street, while our weed garden out back is rather robust - nearly as tall as I am. Impressive, eh?

We have this aggressive vine that seems to weave its way through our lawn, cross the threshold of stones that line our flower beds and spring up through our intentionally-planted shrubs and flowers. I haven't a clue what it's called, but I can tell you it's a thin vine that resists a stern tug as if it were anchored to one of the inner rings of hell. And it's not just in a few spots, rather it's laced throughout the entire bed, a web of thick roots hiding just beneath the surface of mulch and dirt. Aiming to starve the vine of sunlight and kill it, my husband put down a liner last year, but we've discovered this year the vine has a much stronger will to live than we had figured. I pulled up sections of the liner to reveal a blanket of the only slightly discolored vine. Ugh. I pulled out as much as I could, all the while muttering, "wicked, wicked weed."

It didn't take long before my weed-pulling became merely a cosmetic endeavor, being that there was no way I could destroy what has become my seasonal nemesis. Minutes seem like hours in 95-degree weather, so while I was wildly grabbing handfuls of errant plants it became difficult to rip out the invader and leave what was lovely.

Anyone who has ever had a yard can tell you that unless you get down to the root of a weed, you can expect to see it sprout right back up. In our case, this seems to happen within a few short days. So every time I walk out to my mail box, I try not to glance at our landscaping, somehow sensing there will be another crop of vines waving at me through my lilies. Truly, they mock me.

Still, as I tend to my all-but-overtaken flower bed my thoughts turn to how God lovingly tends to His children, ridding us over time of the weeds of sin and damage from the world that can mar our beauty and stunt our growth. What we do to "fix" ourselves is largely cosmetic. We can read every self-help book, put on a happy face and pour ourselves into any number of worthy acts of service, but unless we get to the root of our issues we don't see lasting change. And at the root there's always a chasm between us and God caused by sin. Maybe we don't fully trust Him. Maybe it's pride.

Over the years God has revealed many ugly weeds that have grown up around my heart - perfectionism and a critical spirit to name two. Some of them were sown by my environment, others became defense mechanisms after being hurt by people I loved. Regardless, they've flourished within me because of sin. My fear is that all those ways I stumble will distract the rest of the world from what God is doing in me.

So I found myself praying, "Lord, I need you to get to the root of my flaws. Pull everything that isn't beautiful, rid me of everything that doesn't reflect Christ."

While I'd love to wake up one of these mornings and find those flaws gone, I know the Lord will spend my lifetime working on my heart. And that's OK because in the process I get the pleasure of walking alongside Him, getting to know Him better and learning to trust Him more.

Maybe when I look out over my weed garden I shouldn't ponder so hard about my nuclear option - cementing the lawn - and instead think of all the work the Lord is doing in my heart. I'll go grab my gloves and weed with Him.

Waiting and Watching

When I was a kid, the concept of the rapture truly frightened me. Raised in church, I often heard talk of the return of Christ to rescue His people from the earth's destruction. But instead of looking to the heavens for Jesus to appear, I mainly just feared being left behind and what that meant for my future. I vividly remember walking into my house after school and bursting into tears if I didn't immediately see my dad. His absence, I was convinced, implied my doom.

That's how a kid typically views what is known as the rapture and, unfortunately, it's often regarded by many grown-ups with even less understanding. Jesus told His disciples He would return for His followers, not giving them a fixed date to expect Him, but a season. No one but the Father would know the day nor the hour He would return, yet ever since humans have repeatedly tried to predict both.

Harold Camping's prediction that Judgement Day will commence at 6 p.m. Saturday, May 21 is merely the most recent. Some members of the early church were so convinced Jesus would return within their lifetime that they saw no point in working, choosing to kick back and relax. Such idle believers were corrected and urged to keep busy until the Lord's coming. By the way, this is Camping's second stab at the date, and he has a backup (Oct. 21) just in case he's still here at 6:01 p.m.

First, let me make a prediction of my own: Camping's Judgement Day is at least 1,007 years off. He predicts that God will destroy the earth within a few months post-rapture, but Scripture speaks of a seven-year tribulation and a millennial reign before the earth is destroyed and made new, although many believers disagree on what order these events will take place with the rapture of the Church.

Either way, if you're truly concerned Camping's prediction may be true, don't be -- it virtually guarantees Jesus won't come back today. But that doesn't mean you should be unconcerned about your future.

What's sad about Camping's claim isn't so much that it's yet another false prophecy, rather it's just one more way for society to reduce Christianity to a punchline. For the last several days, so much of the chatter on Facebook has mentioned what friends will be doing this weekend "if the world doesn't end." Those who don't know any better might associate one misguided person's assertion with Christians as a whole, making them less likely to take the Gospel seriously. The enemy loves to hear us speak of His adversary in such sarcastic disbelief. But it's not funny. Satan is real and so is Hell.

Still, our sentiments on the rapture shouldn't be generated by fear. It isn't about escaping the fires of Hell; it's about anticipating finally being with Christ -- the One who spilled His blood for us, the One called Faithful and True, the One who makes being in God's presence possible. While thoughts of the rapture used to terrify me as a child, as a more mature believer I can't imagine a more glorious day. Truly, in the last few years I can't tell you how many times I've prayed in tears, "Come quickly, Lord Jesus!" So many of us feel more and more like aliens here as the days go by and, yes, we yearn to be where we belong.

Jesus may not come back today, but He is coming back. Will He find you watching?

The Broken Branch

For the last three springs in our current home, I've delighted in raising the blinds that cover several windows lining our kitchen. Looking out into the wooded area that abuts our back yard, I have the joy of seeing life laid dormant over the harsh winter begin to peek out in vibrant green and, over several weeks, grow to fill out the bare trees and shrubs. Once again, God makes all things new.

Such was the scene out our windows earlier this week as I raised the blinds and noticed something curious about one of the small trees nearest our house. Several trees had been damaged by an ice storm last winter, losing limbs to the weight of the ice. This particular tree had survived with the exception of one branch. The branch didn't completely sever, and we left it to dangle because it was relatively small, it was supported by sturdier branches below and -- I'll be honest here -- we don't do much in the way of landscaping. I had presumed, however, that the branch would remain somewhat of an eyesore, hanging lifeless amid all the lush leaves. But this week I noticed it was sprouting buds.

Again, I have virtually no horticultural knowledge. Our house is filled with artificial plants and every summer I struggle to keep even a tiny crop of basil alive. So maybe it isn't an oddity to see a broken tree branch sprout leaves. Still, God used it to illustrate an important concept to me: He can make broken things beautiful. In fact, it's His specialty.

Scripture is filled with examples of notably flawed people chosen by the Lord to accomplish amazing things. Moses fled his royal home in Egypt after killing an Egyptian, but God used him to lead His people out of bondage and into a land of their own. Rahab, a prostitute, helped ensure the fall of Jericho when she hid Israeli spies on the roof of her home. While most people in Jesus' time considered tax collectors despicable because they were known to pocket portions of the money they collected, Jesus called Matthew, a tax collector, to be one of His disciples. The Apostle Paul had been persecuting early Christians when God struck him temporarily blind on the road to Damascus. Despite Paul's responsibility for the death of Christ-followers, God used him to spread the Gospel, nurture the early church and to write the bulk of the New Testament.

These are just a few examples. Nearly every person named in Scripture comes with a less-than-flattering feature. Still, God used them for His glory. So why would a sovereign God want to use a broken person to carry out His purposes? Those considered upright have a way of claiming glory for themselves. Broken people understand they don't have strength or power of their own and rely on God to work through them. And if they live their lives acknowledging God's hand in their accomplishments, He gets the glory. God allows us to participate in His work, despite our obvious shortcomings, and He makes something beautiful out of it.

Looking out my window, I'm reminded that I'm a lot like that broken branch. I'm a bit scrawny, compared to those around me, and life's storms have done their share of damage. Some days I feel like I'm barely hanging onto the tree, and I rely on God to hold me up. He nourishes me through His Word and the Spirit and, despite what I feel like day to day, I know He'll produce something beautiful. And it will be to His glory.

What will happen when you die?

Like the rest of the world, the horror of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan has stayed with me since I first heard news of it early Friday morning. As of Monday morning, responders were only beginning to count the dead, but some estimated casualties of at least 10,000. It's hard for me to wrap my mind around such a number in the context of death. We know, of course, that every one of us will die one day. One day. Not today, we figure. Someday when we're in our 90s, after months of slow decline. In our sleep, we hope. Certainly not all of a sudden while we're walking our kid home from school, mowing the grass or arguing with our boss. I mean, 10,000 people gone in a matter of minutes. These aren't just numbers; they're moms and dads who kiss their babies night night. They're grandparents who you'd get agitated with because they fed your kid nothing but candy. The good friend you laughed so hard with the day before your stomach muscles ached. They're people with heartbeats and souls. And I'm sorry, but if knowing that their lives are suddenly over doesn't make your heart hurt, I'm not sure you have one. What makes it hurt worse for me is wondering about the condition of their souls.

Let me be clear, I don't know why God allowed this to happen to Japan or to any one of those people who lost their lives. Only He knows. This much I know: Believers in Christ are called to respond to this sort of thing with compassion, not only with material supplies and monetary aid, but with truth spoken in love. In the days to come, we will give our money and do what we can from the other side of the world to help. But for now I'm going to do the only thing I can contribute from a distance: share the Gospel.

Chances are that if you are reading this, we know one another. Have I told you I love you? I do. Have I told you how much God loves you? I know you may not feel it, but He does. He made you and wants the very best for you. The very best thing for you is to know Him because that will mean that when you die you won't have to bear the consequences of your sin. Romans 6:23 says the consequence of sin is death, an eternal separation from God.

I know sin and death probably aren't concepts you want to dwell on, but you will in fact die and, yes, you do sin. I know you're a fabulous person who does many good things, but you sin. You may have never killed anyone, but you've sinned against them.

God is holy and cannot be in the presence of sin. For generations, men offered unblemished animals as blood sacrifices so they could be reconciled to God. Over and over, they would sacrifice these innocent creatures because they couldn't stop sinning. So about 2,000 years ago God provided the only sacrifice that would cover our sin permanently: His only son, Jesus. Jesus was fully God and fully human, tempted as we are tempted but did not sin. Jesus was crucified, died and was entombed for three days before resurrecting. More than 500 people saw Christ after His resurrection; some touched Him, others ate with Him. He ascended to Heaven, where He is now seated at the right hand of God the Father. He will return to the earth to gather believers and will judge both the living and dead.

The world will tell you there are many paths to God, but that isn't biblical. The Bible teaches that Jesus is the only way to salvation. Jesus says in John 14:6, "I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

"If you declare with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved (Romans 10:9)."

You cannot earn your way into Heaven by your good works. "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast" (Esphesians 2:8-9). Isaiah 64:6 says "all our righteous acts are like filthy rags." The Pharisees, who were the religious teachers of Jesus' day, thought that by keeping the law they would be considered righteous, but Jesus called them hypocrites because their hearts weren't devoted to God. "You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness" (Matthew 23:27-28).

You will not go to Heaven simply because you believe God exists. James 2:19 says that even demons believe in God - and shudder. There's a difference between believing in God and believing God.

It all boils down to Jesus and your relationship to Him. That wasn't a popular statement 2,000 years ago - He was crucified for claiming to be the son of God - and it's not popular now. But that doesn't make it any less true. Either Jesus was a liar, a madman or he was the son of God. You have to decide who you believe He is, and after being reminded last week of the brevity of life, I suggest you do it as soon as possible.