Angela Parlin

In Which I Tidal-Wave

January 9, 2014 By: Angela Parlin

The morning blew up in my face.

Okay, I blew up in my children’s faces.

I should have known it was coming. Some “issues” had bubbled under my surface for weeks.

We had just reviewed natural cycles in science class. When I had to face my own natural cycle.

Irritations happen. I swallow them down. They build up. I address them calmly, for a while. But they continue. I deal with them, or pretend not to hear because I’m making oatmeal muffins.

Irritations persist. I take the offenders to scripture. They understand a little. But they continue to complain and argue. I sit them down for a talk. Or I don’t this time, because I’m teaching an English lesson.

And then that morning happens. We have to get out the door, so I assign tasks. They do their usual—start and get sidetracked. So I do my usual—feel irritated I have to waste more words on stupid reminders.

I don’t get sidetracked. My one thing is to get them out the door with shoes on. Okay, with shoes and coats and gloves and hats and backpacks and snacks and waters (times four).

Our resident grumbler complains about my snack choice. I sweetly remind him he does like pretzels and apple sauce, and if he wants a snack today, this is it. He returns 30 seconds later with a granola bar. “Can’t I just take this for snack???”

I semi-sweetly remind him that now it’s about the principle of the thing. So no, and get back to the shoes I told you to put on. He returns, my persistent one. He believes if he asks enough times, he’ll eventually wear me down.

He does wear me down. Weeks of complaints have added up to this moment. I promise him extra work to do later, and tell him with an eye roll I’ve had enough of his complaints to last me a month or forever.

After only 17 minor setbacks, we are almost all in the car. Then I hear a child spewing unkind words to another because no good reason.

Now I think in all caps, in long, run-on sentences.

WHAT IN THE WORLD, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SPEND MY TIME DEALING WITH ALL THIS CRAP??? I’M WORKING MY BUTT OFF FOR THEM, AND ALL THEY CAN DO IS WHINE AND COMPLAIN AND FIGHT AND…..

Swallowed irritations tidal wave out. I speak harshly. I show them how to react in anger, how to make it all about yourself, how to preach grace one day and throw it out the window the next. What a mess.

After I apologize, after I admit I just taught them things I don’t believe, I wonder how to end this cycle of mine.

The irritations will come. I can’t change that.

But what if my perspective changed? What if I forgave them every single day, and let the irritations go–instead of swallowing hard and letting them build?

With my big kids, we’ve left the adorable, can’t-do-wrong, let-me-hold-you-longer stage of motherhood. I miss it.

Now motherhood becomes a marathon of forgiveness. Or it should.

How might that morning (or others like it) change if I choose to forgive each frustration as it happens?

Could I learn to see time spent talking through difficulties as a gift instead? A chance to lay foundations and build something beautiful in their hearts?

Oh, if only I could remember all the wrong I’ve done–the wrong I still do, and the way I’m fully forgiven…

Maybe then their childhood wouldn’t need to be such a marathon of forgiveness.

Fight

January 3, 2014 By: Angela Parlin

They fight. Morning, afternoon, and evening.

But they also call each other best friend.

Brothers a year apart, they’re classmates who sit beside each other daily (we homeschool). They’re roommates in our bonus room-turned-bedroom, and they’re opposites.

One of them is serious and maturing, and the other always has a good time, that’s what.

One reads hundreds of books, while the other reads only what’s required and majors in play.

One wants–needs order, and the other thrives in chaos.

One tries to keep everyone in line with rules, while the other breaks them.

You can imagine the variety of reasons they fight. You can imagine how they madden us.

I’ve been asked, How did your boys end up so different?

What do I say? Well…they just came that way.

It seems pretty normal to me. I shared a room with one of my sisters, who I fought with daily over clothes and friends and room cleaning and when to turn out the lights. She’s the one I loved and hated all at once, my big sister. We’re opposites, but still we have things in common.

Just like my boys.

They both love soccer, basketball, lego building, and video games. They love to bike, ripstick, explore the woods, and hang out with the same friends. They love pizza, enjoy being big brothers, and live for days off school. Neither one of them cares for good manners (all I can say is I’ve tried). But they both love Jesus, enjoy drawing, and like to get their own way.

Oh, but also. They love me. Just last night, one of them gave me a hug and thanked me for something. The other picked a fight.

Go away. This is my Mom. She already told me, she’s always gonna be MINE.

He’s half joking, but only half. He doesn’t understand what I learned when he came shooting out of me. How I wondered If I could love my 2nd child as much as my first. How I worried, because no one could possibly be as precious as this boy I already loved. Until I had another and felt like I’d grown a second heart.

I hope he’ll understand one day, but for now, he fights for me. Fights over me.

Sometimes their fighting drives me a little shy of crazy, but I endured this fight with a smile. They exchanged words, the big guy rolling his eyes and putting his little brother back in place.

She’s both of ours, Ry. She’s never just yours. (*growls)

These are the fights I adore. Fights between boys who frustrate and amaze me, who irritate and bless me. Who fight over stupid things, but also fight over me.

This is a Five-Minute Friday post, where I link up with Lisa-Jo Baker and a flash mob of other writers for five minutes of fun free-writing. Join us?

How To Shine

January 2, 2014 By: Angela Parlin

He came to life, and a great star shone.

The true light that gives light to all men came into the world.

He invited us—Follow Me. Now you are the light of the world, He said. Let your light shine before others.

We’ve all been with people who were trying to let their light shine. Trying to follow Jesus. Trying to be what they thought they were supposed to be. It never works. People who try to be who they’re “supposed to be” often leave us looking for the first exit.

Because this is posing, not shining. They’re putting the cart before the horse, trying to create the end result, and this is no way to shine.

Does your light shine before others, so they see your good works and praise (not you, but) the Lord?

Don’t think big, as if you need a stage in order to shine. Think small—your friends, family, co-workers, students, classmates, teachers, neighbors. Does your light shine?

I know you want to inspire people to fall before God, so He can raise them up to life. You’ve experienced this to some extent, so why wouldn’t you want the same for everyone you know? But don’t make assumptions about what it means to shine His light. Don’t hold back the truth of your life and present the polished-up, Sunday-morning, “closer to Jesus” version instead.

Don’t complicate the shining. It’s as simple as 1—2:

1. Come into the light.

This is the kicker. You cannot shine His light without first coming into the light.

My sin separates me from God, and I cannot do anything to fix it on my own…I need Jesus.

So come—repent—let your spirit be refreshed.

Then shine. Except there’s more.

Continue to come to God because every fiber of our beings need to be made new.

We need total heart & mind makeovers, with God the master designer. He holds the plans, we come often and humbly, and He makes it happen.

Transformation is a process. None of us who live are there yet. But He who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it. So come into the light, day after day, and let Him transform your heart and mind.

2. Shine!

Here’s how: be you. Fully you but also fully His.

YOU are being made new by Him daily, because you are coming to Him, to His light. You are imperfect but progressing, a mess but growing.

Shine that. Be real, be authentic. Be willing to risk it.

Don’t try to be who you think you’re supposed to be. They know.

Imperfect people crave honesty from other imperfect people. So don’t try to be where you “should be”.

Be where you are, who you are, under God, by His grace—a world away (literally) from perfect, but humbly being transformed by Him every day.

Go ahead now. Shine…

The Story

December 24, 2013 By: Angela Parlin

They were noisier than I would have liked, my kids and their cousins, getting ready for bed. But I gathered them up in a little pink room, told them to hush, and read them a story.

The story began with a young girl from a small town. A humble servant girl. She was engaged to be married, waiting for her life to change, but chosen to first bring promise into the world.

One afternoon, an angel scared her half to death. He told her not to fear, because God Most High favored her. She sat there, stunned. Confused. But the angel continued. She would have a baby, and name him JESUS. The Son of the Most High. He’d reign from David’s throne forever.

His kingdom would never end.

She wondered, how? The angel explained—the power of the Most High would overshadow her. He told her that her old, old cousin Elizabeth was also 6 months pregnant. Because nothing is impossible with God.

At this point in the story, I question myself. I imagine being this girl, this ordinary, unlikely girl. I believe nothing is impossible with God. But in those shoes? Would I believe it then?

She responds, Let it be. Let it be with me as you have said.

She decides—I will be God’s servant.

She carries the Son of God in her womb.

She visits her old, pregnant cousin, who tells her she is abundantly blessed. Why? Because she believed the Lord would do what He said.

So her heart overflows with praise for God, and she sings:

God noticed me, his lowly servant girl. He’s done great things for me. He shows mercy to all who fear Him. He scatters the proud and exalts the humble. He fills the hungry but sends the rich away with empty hands. He fulfills His promises.

God became flesh and showed up small, born in an animal shed, to a poor servant girl. He did it this way, to offer mercy to all. But we can’t read only half the gospel.

God offers His mercy to all, but He shows mercy to those who fear Him. Some, He scatters, and some, He exalts. He blesses those who believe Him.

Like this young girl, my heart now overflows. Because God noticed me, and showed me mercy. Because the Joy who came to the world, came for me. Came for you. So I speak of Jesus, of Joy, hoping you will seek Him and know Him, too. May we all be blessed because we believe the Lord will do what He said!

If I can answer any questions, or you want to discuss this further, email me at angiep@nc.rr.com.

4 Ways To Love Your Sponsored Child

December 17, 2013 By: Angela Parlin

5 years ago, we met our first child-across-the-globe on paper, because of a video at a conference. You should see how he’s grown these years, how he’s changed.

You should see how he’s changed us.

Last Sunday, our family was blessed to encourage our church to sponsor children through Compassion International. I cannot thank the leadership of our church enough for organizing this. Because praise God ~ nearly 150 children, mostly from an extremely poor region of Bolivia, now have Aunties and Uncles and “adopted” siblings at Southbridge Fellowship.

They will be loved.

Compassion staff in Bolivia will care for their physical needs and train them to support themselves one day. They’ll train them to lead, and many of them will grow up and lead in their own communities. They’ll tell them the life-changing story of Jesus, and we hope every one will be released from poverty in Jesus’ name.

My husband and I loved helping people find a child to sponsor. Some looked for a child close in age to their own children. Some looked for children who had been waiting a long time for a sponsor. Some welled up in tears and said, I think we’ve found our girl. I couldn’t help but share those tears, because of what I know.

These children will soon learn they’ve been picked. They’ve been chosen, and their lives will change. Not only that,but a group of ordinary people–who just became sponsors–will be changed.

At the tables Sunday, some had questions. They really wanted to do this thing well. So here are my–

4 ways to love your sponsored child well:

Pray for them. Frame their picture and display it in your home. Let it remind you to pray for your new, extended family.
Write them regularly. This is the heart of sponsorship–building a relationship. So set a schedule and write your child, once a month or every other month. You may want to use Compassion’s website, where you can write and upload recent photos. Tell them about yourself, and encourage them. Share your hope. If you wish, send small, flat gifts like stickers, bandaids, baseball cards, drawings, or small paper craft projects. Search for CI on Pinterest, and you’ll find loads of ideas. Just remember, your letters do not need to be pinnable. They just want to know you!
Follow the Compassion Blog. They do an excellent job of sharing resources, so don’t miss it. You might even want to use their curriculum to learn more about the developing world with your kids or grandkids.
Think about visiting. Pray God will make it happen someday. It may seem impossible, but I encourage you to ask for it, and take the opportunity when it comes. It might be the best thing you ever do! (Read about our visit with our Compassion kids here.)

If you already sponsor a child, what would you add to this list? Share with us in the comments!

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In Which I Tidal-Wave

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Fight

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How To Shine

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The Story

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Compassion International

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