All posts by : Admin

When it comes to making plans, I am second to . . . well, just One. Planning is in my DNA. I am a list maker and a lover of all things calendar-related. Just give me an idea and a deadline, and I’ll make it happen—that is, if only the universe would cooperate! I shudder to think of the thousands of my perfectly laid plans that have been completely derailed by everything from forgetting to plug in the slow cooker to getting in a fender bender on the way to the store.

The truth is, we can’t plan for everything. And perhaps more to the point, no one ever plans for a crisis. We don’t pencil-in “crisis” on the third Monday of the month. And yet, without fail, with the bases loaded and two minutes left, the phone rings, and voilà—you have a sick kid, someone has lost their job, a friend has devastating news.

This is where courage needs to step up to the plate.

The Bible says that we can make our plans, but ultimately the Lord determines our steps (see Proverbs 16:9). And some of those steps can be pretty painful to take. In my twenty-six years of mothering, I have lost a baby to miscarriage and wept beside the casket of a dear friend’s stillborn daughter. We don’t always get to choose what happens to the babies we carry so carefully inside us. We can’t always predict what a day will bring. But we are guaranteed of this: God will never leave us or forsake us. Ever.

And oh, how we need Him! God is the one who brings courage from the chaos and peace to the broken places in our hearts. Without the courage that comes from God, the spirit of fear can settle into the unseen places of a mother’s soul. So stay close to Him, precious mom! Get to know His Word. Memorize His promises. Don’t let that fear take root.

Every mom can identify with fear, but every mom can also identify with the antidote to fear we’ve been given. From the moment we know we’re bringing a new life into the world, something miraculous—even sacred—awakens in the heart of a mother: courage.

It takes courage to be a mother. Unplanned C-sections, unexpected diagnoses, illnesses, sibling rivalry, bad attitudes, and strong-willed children test the courage and resolve of every mother. But God uses all of these circumstances to help make us into the mothers He wants us to be.

I know it’s true, because this business of shaping little hearts is also shaping mine. Motherhood has exposed weaknesses in me I never knew I had, it has driven me to the limits of what I thought I could do, and it has filled my heart with hopes and dreams I never imagined for a future I can only entrust to God. There’s no doubt about it: becoming a mother changes everything. And even twenty-six years in, I’m finding I need fresh courage on a daily basis.

Let’s face it: this isn’t our grandparents’ generation. Choosing a Christ-centered life in a culture that rejects Christ is challenging the courage of many believers today. We are parenting in a generation in which fear is a driving force in our decisions. Standing for what the Bible says about marriage and human sexuality is growing increasingly unpopular as our culture moves away from the truth and toward moral relativism. As a result, Christian mothers today have to do something the previous three generations haven’t had to worry about: we’re preparing our kids to face rejection.

It takes courage to stand for the Lord in the face of rejection, but stand we must. The next time your children tell you they have been mocked or labeled for their faith or beliefs, remember that at the moment of our salvation, God Himself gave us an even more powerful label. We wear the label redeemed, and no one can relabel us! We are forever accepted by God.

If you’re struggling to find courage in the face of being rejected, look up—and point your children’s gaze to Jesus as you do. Courage is found where acceptance abounds: in Christ. MomStrong moms know who they are in Christ, and they refuse to allow the devil to lie to them. They rise to the challenge of the culture and, in the process, shape the hearts and minds of their children for the glory of God.

Yes, we are living in challenging times, but like Joshua, we have been called to “be strong and courageous.” This is an exciting time to be a Christian, because when faith finds its feet in this generation of parents and their children, we are going to see amazing things happen in the lives of God’s people.

I have hated my body for as long as I can remember. As soon as I was old enough to be aware of my figure, and how it compared with the figures of my peers, I was unhappy. Being a five-foot-tall, muscularly-built Asian girl in Southern California made me feel like I was drowning in a sea of tall, thin blonde beach babes. And so began that dull ache from deep within. That feeling of inadequacy that we are all familiar with to some degree or another. That yearning to be beloved and accepted. If I wasn’t going to be the pretty one, how would I get by?

Some days I feel like I haven’t grown at all.

We humans are very resourceful. I grew thick skin. I hid behind humor and quick wit. I looked for validation through achievement. I was the straight-A student and the good girl. I was the first to graduate college in my family. I sought a career in sales so that my success could be very tangible in a glowing sales report or a fat commission check. But still, the dull ache continued, as well as the striving to run from it.

I am now approaching 40, a wife and a mother of three precious girls. On some days, it seems I have matured much from that insecure, striving young girl. And on other days, I feel like I haven’t grown a bit, still looking for validation and trying to prove my worth. By God’s grace I have learned that the only way to change the horrible talk-track in my head that says “I am not enough” is to have the true narrative about who I am spoken to me to crush the lie for what it is.

Our happy faces and smiles for the camera may be hiding the burdens we silently carry.

So maybe your issue isn’t body image. This is a game of “fill in the blank” of which I have heard far too many versions. Maybe you feel invisible as a stay-at-home mom and are constantly looking for ways to validate yourself. Maybe you aren’t the Pinterest mom who posts picture-perfect photos of memories you are making with your kids. Maybe you hate cooking and feel guilt when you are served gourmet meals at your friends’ homes.

Maybe you see your flaws in your children and feel hopeless because you are a failure of a parent. Maybe you feel like you are a different person than your husband married. You look at yourself in the mirror and see a distant memory of the woman you once were, and you feel shame. These are just a handful of whispers that have come to my own mind over the years or from confessions by dear friends I admire who have confided in me. These are the burdens we silently carry with us while we put on a happy face and smile for the camera.

We need to remember that God loves us just as we are now.

If we have embraced the gospel for the promise that it is, that we are truly forgiven, redeemed, righteous, and bought at a price, then why doesn’t it feel like it? If every sin I have ever committed—or will commit today—has been paid for, why do I carry this shame and feeling of inadequacy?

Imagine how different our experience would be if we could really believe God loves us just as we are now—not the version we strive for in our minds. Not the person we will be once we get our act together. Me, today. Then we would stop asking ourselves, Why don’t I feel like I belong? Why do I feel like an outsider, always coming up a bit short?

Culled from the internet.

As stewards of grace involved in Kingdom work, we can become overwhelmed at the magnitude of the needs surrounding us. We see injustices and abuses of power—and the wounds they create—and our flesh reacts. Too often, we either work ourselves to the point of exhaustion to try and change things, or we are tempted to become angry and cynical. We wonder, does God see what’s happening? Does He hear our cries, or the cries of the oppressed?

I’ve been there. Over the last thirty years, I’ve dealt with chronic pain and other physical challenges from two autoimmune diseases. So far, though God is faithful to sustain and strengthen me, He has not chosen to heal me. Also, several years ago, my youngest son began experiencing chronic pain. That was almost harder than living with my own limitations (and the emotional and spiritual struggles that come along with invisible illnesses).

Because of my journey, one of my favorite women in the Bible is Hagar. She was a slave from Egypt, whom Sarah gave to Abraham to try and produce an heir. And although the practice of using a servant to circumvent barrenness was accepted in biblical times, the relationship between the two women was fraught.

God Sees

Once Hagar became pregnant, the tensions between the two boiled over and Hagar ran away from Sarah and Abraham, into the desert. In the midst of a dry, barren wilderness, Hagar’s desperation was met with God’s presence and sustenance. She saw her Creator for who He was, becoming the only biblical woman to give God a name: “El Roi” (the God who sees me). Then God gave her a tough command: return to her mistress.

Hagar submitted to God and returned to Sarah, but that wasn’t the end of her story. She gave birth to a son, Ishmael, and remained a faithful servant to her masters. During the next ten years, she witnessed the fulfillment of God’s promise in the birth of Isaac to Sarah and Abraham.

However, when Ishmael taunted Isaac, Sarah’s anger took over, and she told Abraham to get rid of “that slave woman and her son.” Once again, Hagar ended up in the desert. This time, however, she didn’t leave of her own volition.

Sitting in the dust of the desert, Hagar experienced desolation. Out of water and hope, she began to weep, believing she and her child would die.

Then God, who watched His only Son hang naked—in extreme thirst—on the cross, heard. In compassion and mercy, God opened Hagar’s eyes, and she found a well.

God hears

This story reminds us that God hears our cries—and our children’s cries. In fact, He hears the cries of every mother in every hunger-stricken home. He sees the pain of the trafficked and abused, oppressed and maligned. And one day, His justice will reign.

“El Roi” filled Hagar and her son with physical water, meeting their immediate needs. Then, He protected them and guided them, meeting their long-term needs.

He promises to do the same for us.

Until then, we partner with Him as light-bearers and water-givers, knowing He has called us to not turn away from suffering but to enter into it, as Jesus did.

If we live with ears tuned to the Spirit’s voice, and eyes open to see His workings in the world, each day will unfold in startling ways. Eventually, like Hagar, when we see Him clearly, we can work for Him without feeling as if it’s all up to us. We’ll no longer be held captive by cynicism or despair; instead, we’ll be infused with hope and filled with peace. Our lives will become a living, dynamic portrait of God’s presence, promises, and power.

Something else I love about Hagar’s story: the first time she fled from Sarah and Abraham’s camp, she left as a slave. The second time she journeyed out of the camp, through no fault of her own, she left with her freedom. No more would she answer to an earthly master; she belonged to God alone.