How Nora Got Her Name... and a Book Review

We recently spent a week at Myrtle Beach with my side of the family in what has become an annual trip that works as sort of a mini-reunion for those of us far flung from grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins. The road trip is a long one, at least by Johnson family standards, but is well worth it. I relished the opportunity to spend time with people I love and grew up having around me. Throw in low country food, and I just don't know how much better life can feel for this gal.

While Katie and Adam have loved the water in previous years, they really enjoyed playing at the beach this year. Jumping waves, collecting shells and digging holes in the sand brought a lot of joy to our two tots, but, I probably took more joy in watching them. And, frankly, I had fun too, drawing pictures and scrawling my baby name suggestions in wet sand. Once vetoed (or at least pondered a few moments), I'd wipe the slate smooth again for another stab at winning Aaron's interest in a moniker for Baby J #3. Because heaven forbid we go on calling her "Baby J #3."

We've officially decided that one of those names long since washed from the Carolina shore will be hers - Nora Grace.

The baby-naming process typically does not represent the unity Aaron and I enjoy in most other areas of our marriage. In fact, I kind of dread it. Poor Adam didn't have a name until two weeks prior to his birth. I've heard worse, of course, with many kids getting their names after Mom and Dad see their little pink faces after they've reached the outside world. Still, the stressful debates are not my fave. So this third round was shaping up to be much like the previous two, and I was getting weary of it more quickly than usual. Maybe it's the extra estrogen in my system, or perhaps I'm just getting old.

Before we found out the baby's sex, we'd already agreed that if the baby is a boy, his middle name would be Aaron, after Daddy. My husband had regretted not pushing for that one when our son Adam was born. Instead, since "Adam" was Daddy's suggestion (or perhaps demand - depends upon whom you have asked) I won the middle war with "Taylor," a family name shared by several including my beloved Papaw Holbrook who died in 2001.

With Katie and Adam peacefully digging holes in the beach nearby, I fingered a handful of names, peering up over my shoulder to read my husband's facial expression. One by one, the grimace came and I patted my tablet flat again. Then came Nora. I looked and saw Aaron tilt his head - a sign he usually gives when he takes a bite of food indicating that he can't decide whether he likes it. But given the usual response to my naming pitches, I'd take it.

"Whatcha think?" I prompted with hope.

"I just realized that's Aaron spelled backward," he said. This, of course, without that superfluous A.

Sold. Nora it is. End of arguments. And that, my friends, is an example of grace in my book. So now she has a middle name to boot.

I also took the opportunity of having a little more down time than usual to read a book recommended by so many friends - One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. In this beautifully and honestly-written book, Voskamp accepts the challenge to record 1,000 things for which she is thankful and, in so doing, she finds more of the abundant life so many Christians struggle to take hold of, even though it's promised to us. I couldn't recommend it more strongly.

Reading it came at an appropriate time, as Aaron and I have quite a few friends hurting from a number of life's curve balls. And, honestly, when he and I encounter periods of deep pain, we tend to do a little flailing of our own. It's a very human response. I must admit that I still have a few more chapters to go, as mommy duties and general busyness have made a definite dent in my pleasure reading. But I'm getting so much out of this book I really wanted to suggest you start reading it right now. Plus, several friends who met for dinner earlier this week spent quite a while discussing the book's merits, which sort of re-energized me.

Several of Voskamp's points (thus far) bear repeating:

• "Eucharisteo always precedes the miracle." - Voskamp notes that on the night Jesus shared the Passover meal with His disciples, as recorded in Luke 22, He broke bread, gave thanks (Greek: "eucharisteo") and gave it to them. This was mere hours before Jesus was arrested, beaten until He no longer looked like a man and crucified, and yet He gave thanks for what would come to symbolize His broken body. And, of course, the miracle that followed is Christ's conquering of death in His resurrection and the salvation of many in taking our sin upon Himself. A word study of eucharisteo yields other miracles preceded by giving thanks for which Jesus is famous: the feeding of thousands with just a few loaves and small fish and Christ's resurrection of his friend Lazarus, who had been dead for four days. So, perhaps thankfulness becomes part of the equation in abundant living. Could it be that our own consumer mentalities and general discontentment keep us from experiencing everything God offers us?

• "Do not disdain the small. The whole of the life - even the hard - is made up of the minute parts, and if I miss the infinitesimals, I miss the whole." - This one penetrated to the heart of my role as a stay-at-home mom. Our days are filled with back-to-back minutiae, as are Voskamp's - a farmer's wife who homeschools their six children in southwestern Ontario. She stirs the porridge, shreds a mound of shredded cheese, folds the laundry... Good grief, I could go on and on about all the daily tasks that seem so mundane my mind figures them insignificant. Four years of college, magna cum laude, and today I'm sopping up urine in our never-ending quest to potty train our son. As someone who spent several years in the working world, I can attest that it's easy to long for days in which I can look back and point to projects having been accomplished and the occasional "atta-girl" thrown my way (and I do stress "occasional"). But every once and a while, I get a reminder that our everyday contributions do make a difference, if only in our relationship with God. I think of all the times I trudged bleary-eyed upstairs to nurse my infant children in the middle of the night. In those quiet moments when I'm rocking a tiny baby in the darkness, God meets me. And somehow the next day the sleep deprivation pales in comparison to coming closer to the Lord. It's vitally important, Voskamp suggests, to live in the moment, taking note of the minutiae: "Time is a relentless river," she writes. "It rages on, a respecter of no one... I can slow the torrent by being all here."

• "Joy and pain are but two arteries of the one heart that pumps through all those who don't numb themselves to truly living." - So many of us have the notion that pain is something to run from or even deny once it has caught us, fearing that pain is evidence of weakness, failure or sin in our lives.  But Scripture tells us that pain is a part of being alive and that we should expect it. "All new life comes out of the dark places," Voskamp writes. Be it a newborn baby emerging from the depths of the womb or Christ bursting from a tomb that couldn't contain Him, she stresses that suffering delivers grace. Quoting renowned Christian author C.S. Lewis, she adds, "If you think of this world as a place intended simply for our happiness, you find it quite intolerable: think of it as a place of training and correction and it's not so bad." But here in America, maybe our quest for perpetual bliss has been among our biggest problems. When we reach a state of discontentment we wonder why we're unhappy, figuring something must be wrong with us. Maybe there is (chemical imbalances are real), but then again if the unhappiness stems from circumstances, maybe we're simply experiencing life. Could it be that God can use that circumstance to draw us closer to Him, to grow us to become what we couldn't have imagined without Him? Are we pushing away opportunities to be the people our Creator had in mind when He blew breath into our lungs because we're experiencing sadness? Think about this: Luke 22 says that Jesus was in such anguish in Gethsemane on the night before His crucifixion that His sweat fell as drops of blood to the ground. Fulfilling the Father's will was going to be excruciating (a word coined to describe crucifixion), but that pain and His blood absolutely were necessary for salvation. What must some of us go through in this life to do the Father's will? Answers will vary from person to person, but one thing is clear: living for Christ means dying to self.

• "That Serpent, he's slithered with the lie that God doesn't give good but gives rocks in the mouth, leaves us to starve empty in wilderness and we'll just have to take lessons from Satan on how to take the stones of the careless God and make them into bread to feed our hungry souls." Another commentary on affliction and our common responses to it. The temptation Jesus encountered in the desert while He roamed hungry, thirsty and physically exhausted poses the same question as our own temptations. How will we respond? Do we turn inward and hide? Do we satisfy our desires because we're only human? Jesus responded with the same resource we have today - Scripture. And that speaks to us of the answer to having a full life today: "by every word that comes from the mouth of God." Study it. Know it. Proclaim it.

I'm really looking forward to reading the rest of Voskamp's insights in those few spare moments I have ahead of me before Nora Grace arrives (when I'm not asleep, mind you). I'm sure I'll need to reflect on many of them in those not-so-quiet hours of the night.

The Prophet Wept

"For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear." 2 Timothy 4:3

For weeks now I've been carrying around a heavy heart, disappointed that President Obama publicly acknowledged his support for legalizing gay marriage. In doing so, Obama pointed to his Christian beliefs - specifically, the golden rule. His statement was cringe worthy, not because I didn't know where the president stood on this issue - that was obvious - but because he chose to invoke the name of the Lord on a subject so expressly opposed in Scripture. My reaction was felt by plenty of other evangelical Christians, but I was heartbroken by responses from those who profess Christ in support of the same.

Last weekend a gracious friend had several ladies over for dinner to meet her college mentor, a retired campus pastor who was passing through Louisville on a road trip. I'm so grateful I went because he spoke to the very thing that's been weighing on me, posing the question of whether our country was on a path parallel to Israel's in the time of the prophet Jeremiah. The consensus was "yes," and that's not a good thing.

It's easy to see why Jeremiah is often referred to as "the weeping prophet," as he was charged with a tough assignment: Warn Israel that if its people don't repent from worshiping worthless idols - even sacrificing their children to them - God would bring destruction to their land. What's worse is that the Lord told Jeremiah from the outset that his words would fall on deaf ears. Jeremiah acknowledged the inevitable, saying, "Their ears are closed so they cannot hear. The word of the Lord is offensive to them; they find no pleasure in it." (Jeremiah 6:10)

Wow, that sounds painfully familiar! It gets worse. It wasn't just average citizens who were worshiping other gods; their leaders, priests and prophets were complicit, if not participating right alongside them.

Verses 13-15 continues:
"From the least to the greatest, all are greedy for gain; prophets and priests alike, all practice deceit. They dress the wound of my people as though it were not serious. 'Peace, peace,' they say, when there is no peace. Are they ashamed of their conduct? No, they have no shame at all; they do not even know how to blush. So they will fall among the fallen; they will be brought down when I punish them," says the Lord.

Prophets were spreading lies and priests were ruling by their own authority (meaning they were no longer consulting the Lord) and the people were eating it up, according to Jeremiah 5:30-31. And much of this was going on in the temple!

"They turned their backs to me and not their faces; though I taught them again and again, they would not listen or respond to discipline. They set up their abominable idols in the house that bears my name and defiled it." (Jeremiah 32:33-34)

In the end, Israel doesn't listen and is conquered by Babylon, its people carried off into captivity.

This was Jeremiah's home. His people. How heartbreaking would it be to know everything and everyone you've grown to love were about to be destroyed, yet no one would take your warnings seriously? Unfortunately, some followers of Jesus Christ are seeing that happen here in the United States, which is rapidly becoming a culture opposed to God.

In the last few decades we've attempted to remove any mention of the God of the Bible from the public square so as to not to offend or influence those who don't believe in Him. So much for the great commission, huh? We allow the killing of the unborn, complete with heartbeats and brain waves, and laud it as a byproduct of women's liberation. We shame people for believing God's account of any number of details of life, including how it began, reducing such debates to name-calling. Our government seeks to force religious institutions to pay for their employees to receive birth control and abortifacient drugs, even though doing so would violate their beliefs. And heaven help you if you recognize homosexual behavior as a sin. You'll find people in all sectors, from the government to some churches, swearing the Bible is, at best, antiquated or, at worst, just plain wrong. The rest of our people are so biblically illiterate they can scarcely make an argument at all.

Call anything a sin in this society and you'll be labeled a bigot, a hate-monger, ignorant and backward. They'll question your I.Q. and breeding. They'll chalk it up to the state you live in (that one's usually lobbed at southerners). All of this is sophomoric, mean and frustrating, but it's a far cry from persecution. Believing brothers and sisters die every year for their faith in countries closed to the Gospel. Many have to meet in underground churches, unless of course they want to attend the state-run versions in which messages are screened for their content. They're beaten and tortured for the sake of Christ.

When I consider what believers have to endure elsewhere, I'd gladly take the insults. But I know it won't end there. I believe this country will see a day when pastors will be jailed for preaching certain biblical messages, and congregants will cave under the pressure. Believers will lose their jobs because they refuse to act against biblical principles. Many already have. Families will be divided, emotionally if not physically.

But it begins here and now. The following are a few examples of comments I've heard from professed believers in the last couple of weeks:

* We all pick and choose what to follow from the Bible.
People with this mindset typically point to Levitical laws regarding cleanliness and ceremonial matters, such as warnings not to eat pork or wear clothing of mixed fibers. What they overlook is that ceremonial laws had specific applications to the Jewish people to separate them from surrounding cultures; moral laws are a reflection of God's heart and are universal. What also is in play is a larger misunderstanding of the purpose of the law. Romans 3:19-21 tell us that the law was written to make us conscious of our sin. Why? God is holy - He cannot be in the presence of sin. Anyone who has attempted to keep every law written in Scripture will tell you that it cannot be done, and that's the whole point. Our sin had to be put on Jesus, who died in our place so that followers of Him could even approach God. Apart from Christ, we have eternal separation from God. Without the law, we don't recognize that we need Him.

* Jesus nullified Old Testament law when He was crucified and resurrected.
Jesus said in Matthew 5:17 that He came not to abolish the law but to fulfill it. Look at how Jesus addressed sin in general. One example is the woman caught in adultery, found in John 8. While religious leaders were ready to execute her by stoning, Jesus told her He was not going to condemn her to death but admonished her to leave her life of sin. While he treated the woman with compassion - as He continues to do by saving us from our own sentence to hell - He didn't even imply that her sin was permissible. Jesus never minced words when it came to sin; He offers Himself on the cross as our substitute in paying for it.

* Jesus never addressed homosexuality. Why should we give weight to the Apostle Paul's condemnation of it?
To echo an argument made by retired Southeast minister Bob Russell, the recorded words of Jesus didn't say a lot of things directly that we still regard as morally wrong - rape, for example. Again, to disregard the Old Testament admonitions in favor of only the recorded words of Christ in the New Testament is to disregard one of God's attributes - He is unchangeable (See Numbers 23:19, 1 Samuel 15:29, Psalm 55:19 and James 1:17). If God so vehemently condemned a behavior in the Old Testament, what makes you think Jesus (who also is God) would regard it any differently? That's as much as calling God a liar. Finally, 2 Timothy 3:16-17 says, "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work." Those words, of course, were penned by Paul, so take them for what they're worth. In my estimation, they're worth a great deal.

* Today's culture is very different from biblical society, therefore Scripture no longer speaks to our circumstances.
King Solomon was right when he said in Ecclesiastes, "there is nothing new under the sun." People have been killing one another, sleeping with partners of the same sex, committing adultery, etc. since the beginning of time. What's different about our culture today is that its all readily observed. Its televised, on YouTube, streaming over our smart phones and discussed openly. Again, God is unchangeable - the same yesterday, today and forever.

So as I read the book of Jeremiah, I acknowledge that while God's Word is misunderstood, if not put aside as irrelevant, it is still my duty as a watchman to study it, stand firm in it and to warn the people what is ahead if they refuse to heed them. And repentance is key, according to Jeremiah 7:5-11:

"If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly, if you do not oppress the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm, then I will let you live in this place, in the land I gave your ancestors for ever and ever.
"But look, you are trusting in deceptive words that are worthless. Will you steal and murder, commit adultery and perjury, burn incense to Baal and follow other gods you have not known, and then come and stand before me in this house, which bears my name, and say, 'We are safe' - safe to do all these detestable things? Has this house, which bears my name, become a den of robbers to you? But I have been watching!' declares the Lord.

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?