Until It Becomes Your Own

Posted on by justinlewis78

Watching an infant baptism can be quite mesmerizing.  At a glance, it might seem to be another “church ritual”.  And depending on the tradition you grew up in, it might raise some theological questions.  Just recently we participated in such a celebration as one family (someone who grew up at Westminster and said her ‘yes’ to Jesus here) presented her child for this covenant-making ceremony.

This experience can be deeply impactful for our community.  There will be those who join this family in adult Bible study and volunteers and nursery workers who sing lullabies and whisper-sing “Jesus Loves Me”.  Some of you even will tell the Story of Jesus through Scripture-infused song and projects at VBS, coach and mentor with basketball teammates, guide and challenge at youth retreats, build trusted relationships through Community Groups. Through it all, they will see Jesus.

There is a line from a baptismal rite from the French Reformed Church that gets me every time.  After reciting the great deeds of heaven and mission of God to rescue mankind, the pastor says,

“…All of this was done for you, though you do not know any of this yet.  But we will continue to tell you this good news until it becomes your own.  And so the promise of the gospel is fulfilled: “We love because God first loved us.”

In these words, I am mindful that we enter a community experience like no other!  We are storytellers and keepers of the hope found only in Jesus Christ.  Every little child (and their family) who enters into this covenant shall be blessed by our watchful and tender care.  Every young person will be encouraged and challenged to nurture this lifelong relationship with a Savior.  Every adult – no matter how old or young – will bear the Name of Jesus and shine brightly in our community… all so that the next generation will discover life in Jesus Christ.

In doing so we are not participating in a “ritual”.  Instead, we are enjoying God and making Him known.

Holiness in parenting

Posted on by justinlewis78

The following is a 5-day glance at some difficult moments that God has used to bring me back to him…and redeem a father’s heart:

  • Saturday morning – I had the privilege of joining other pastors and worship at a conference.  I was three hours away but getting home seemed to take forever thanks to some hurricane-related traffic.  The reunion at home was perfect; I was both excited to be with my family and rejuvenated from the time with other leaders.  That is, until…
  • Sunday – “I don’t wanna go to church.”  Our day began with feelings of frustration especially as the kids resisted our Sunday morning ritual.  Our morning worship experience went well, of course.  But emerging from our family time in church, I had some fresh urgings to read the bible again with my children at bedtime.  So a plan was set…only to be challenged by the evening meal, not eating+whining drama.  Alas, early bedtime.  “We will try again tomorrow,” I tell myself…no-so-convincingly.
  • Monday – I kept thinking: “We have to read tonight.”  And yet again, we had another battle before bedtime.  In spite of the chaos of jammies, oral hygiene, clean up, etc., we pushed through and actually had “Bible time” —   (although I certainly felt a healthy dose of hypocrisy).
  • Tuesday – This is the day I completely lost my patience.  I’ve heard parents talk about how parenting makes them more patient…but I swear, this is the day when I realize I have none.  Thank God for bedtime… but wait, we have to read before bed. Here’s when it hits me like a tackle from behind, “Justin, you need to pray for them.”
           I realized that in all our daily “prayers” I had stopped praying for them. So hours later, I use my super-stealthy tooth fairy/ninja footsteps to enter their room and fall on my knees.  That night I prayed over them while they slept.
    In some ways, it’s easier, since I do not have interruptions or the need to translate my phrasing to little ears. In another way, it’s more terrifying.  As I bow my head and hold my little boy’s arm, I lay my heart out before God and feel the humbling need to repent of my attitude.  My heart floods again with the love I have and the love I choose to have for these little minions.  I am reminded of my dreams for them… that these days are passing quickly… that there is a day when I will stop raising them.  All I could think (as I wept for my sin) was that they deserve better …and that I needed healing.
  • Wednesday morning (today).  As I write this entry, I have just put Joshua in the car for Holly to take him to preschool only to realize that the Spirit was convicting me:

“Joshua?”  [he begins to get situated in the car.]

“Joshua, can you look at me?”  [I hold his face to look at mine…hoping to get his full attention.]

“Son, I am so sorry for being mean to you lately.  I love you so much and I love the little man that you’re becoming.  Will you forgive me?”  [He nods.  Probably baffled at the words I just spoke.  But I grab him anyway, we hug, and I knew that he knew I said something important for me.]

So I write this today out of a call to authenticity.  For I read and know these words:

For the LORD corrects those he loves, just as a father corrects a child in whom he delights.
Proverbs 3:12  NLT

AND

Fathers, do not make your children resentful. Otherwise, they’ll become discouraged.
Colossians 3:21 ISV

…and I am reminded of the true heart of my heavenly Father and leader in parenthood.

I am not a perfect father.  But I have one.

I am not very patient.  But I am forgiven.

I am not always present.  But He still walks with me.

Friends and readers, parenthood is not about having the correct response and attitude in all encounters with our kids.  It’s about learning about the love of our perfect Parent. The One who raises us and molds us into better stewards of these precious lives.

If you, like me, struggle with your attitude today (or lately), I dare you…sneak into their room tonight and unleash everything on the throne of heaven.  Hold nothing back. Perhaps your child, like mine, is waiting for the same words: “I’m sorry.  Will you forgive me?”  

I for one and am glad my Father is teaching me this on my journey to holiness.