Season of Prayer

My oldest son's baseball season begins tomorrow.  Of course, conditioning, tryouts and practices have been going on for months, but the first game is tomorrow.  All of the Auburn Wages will put on our royal blue shirts, scarfs & caps, arrive at the ballpark early and cheer loudly for the Tigers.  It's what we do.

There are many unknowns to be answered over the next two months of baseball:  Who will start?  How will Ted pitch?  Batting averages, winning percentages, RBIs and ERAs.  Will the Tigers win more than they lose?  Will the PA announcer call his name correctly?  

So many unknowns...Truly, only one thing is certain:  I do not have control over any of these.  The outcome of any at-bat or pitch or game has ZERO to do with me. For some people, that would be liberating.  For this type A, control-freak mom, it is a little bothersome.  I HAVE to do something, right?

So, I am going to do what I CAN do.  I am going to declare this baseball season to be a season of prayer.  I don't exactly know how this is going to play out--a designated time each week?  A more regular blog post?  Just personal, quality times of prayer in the quiet of my home?  Meeting with other moms?  Not sure yet.  

But one thing I do know:  I will not pray that the Tigers win.

Before you completely write me off, I am not going to pray that they lose, either.  However, I am more concerned about my son and his teammates' character development than their record.  So, here are some ways that I will pray for Ted (and his teammates):

• I pray that they will be good sports, that they will accept victory humbly and defeat graciously.  I pray that they will keep a check on their emotions and a lock on their 15-year old tongues.  
• I pray that they will not seek individual accolades, but that those who are followers of Christ would do all things for the glory of God and that all team members would work together for the good of the team.  I pray that they would rejoice with each other's success and would encourage others during times of failure.
• I pray that these young men would be coachable.  May they accept guidance and instruction with open hearts and willing feet.  I pray that they will be respectful of their coaches and that they will show appreciation to them for their commitment to the team.
• I pray for safety for each member of the team, the coaching staff and their families.  Traveling safety, game day safety, practice safety...you name it.
• I pray that Ted's character will be more refined and more God-honoring at the end of this season.  

Trey and I often say that our children are involved in sports in order to develop character, to develop leadership qualities, to become people of influence.  I have to admit that I tend to forget that in the heat of the games.  I often lose sight of the ultimate victory when an earthly one is staring me down.  Therefore, the toughest prayer to pray is one for myself...

...I pray that MY character will be more refined and more God-honoring at the end of this baseball season.  Will you join me?

I'm not that girl. I'm His girl.

Sometimes I don't want any part of the church.  

[Insert horrified gasp here, all you Southern Baptists, United Methodists and Inter/Non-denominationalists.]

It's impossible. Too many rules.  It's too weird.  Too many expectations.  

Listen to Christian music only. (I prefer Alison Krauss & James Taylor.)

Go to church building every time the doors are open.  (I don't.)

Hold hands, cry and pray with groups of people that you don't know.  (Don't get me started...)

Love, love LOVE VBS.  (Please, please, PLEASE let that be our vacation week!)

I'm a believer, baptized to walk in newness of life.  I love Jesus.  But am I good enough for the Church?  It's not looking good.

So I read Titus 2.  Learn from the older women.  Surely, they can help me with these these feelings of inadequacy.  Surely they will commiserate with me and give me loving advice.  

I hear the older ladies in the church speak to the younger about meeting their husbands at the door, dressed in high heels, each night, keeping a pristine home, cooking gourmet dinners every night, and never, ever, raising their voices to their children.  Apparently, when their children were the ages of mine, they were having twice daily family devotions, teaching children's Sunday school, taking meals to the poor and evangelizing the neighborhood...all during VBS week.  

Ugh.  

And if that isn't bad enough, my contemporaries...who should be feeling the same things as I am...seemingly have it all together.  They have 13.1 (or, heaven-forbid, 26.2) on their rear window, dress like Beth Moore, are raising the next Tim Tebow, David Platt and/or Britt Nicole and, according to Facebook, have weekly girls' nights AND date-nights with their husbands.  

Emptiness, guilt, inadequacy and anxiety. 

I'm not that girl. I will NEVER be that girl.  

But, neither are they...nor WERE they.  Yep, I said it.

Can we ever get past the facade of the Sunday morning perfection and get to the heart of the matter?  We speak of transparency and honesty, but if we share truthfully, our image might be marred.  We might not win the "Lottie Moon Woman of the Year" award.  Worse, we might be on the receiving end of the pitiful head shake, accompanied by the infamous "Bless her heart."   

And then the Holy Spirit whispers...don't you wish He would yell sometimes??...He whispers:  

“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;    I have called you by name, you are mine..."

He has redeemed me.  It's none of me.  It's all of Him.  He called me by name.  My name. He knows me.  I am His. No guilt in life, no fear in death.  

"...Remember not the former things,
    nor consider the things of old.
19 Behold, I am doing a new thing;
    now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?"  Isaiah 43:1b, 18-19a

According to Spurgeon, we are not to look merely upon what God has done in the past...as if it was a one-time event...but we are to look to the future and remember that He is able to do the same again. God isn't done with me. I am not perfected. He is constantly pruning me...it's His prerogative as to how and when. Because I am His.
In Paul's letter to the Philippians, he puts it this way: "Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own."  

The only good in me is Christ.

And that's what I want my daughters to know.  That's what I want my lost neighbor to know.  That's what I want the new mom who is struggling to keep her head above water to know.  I am not perfect.  Not even close.  But it doesn't matter.  I belong to the One who made me.  I am pressing on.  

If you ever feel guilty after talking to me, call me on it. I want to be honest, but sometimes that Lottie Moon award is too tempting. :)  

Rest assured, the truth is: I'm a mess...but for Christ.

"But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere. For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things?  For we are not, like so many, peddlers of God's word, but as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, in the sight of God we speak in Christ. 
2 Corinthians 2:14-17

Man is the corrupter of religion. What God founded and man destroyed in the garden of Eden was relationship. Don't look at the failed examples of religion. Look to God.       --Mike Eaton