Have you ever met someone whose life seems to be a never-ending string of amazing, marvellous, wonderful, and awesome? Do you feel like punching them?
Living harmoniously as a family is an ongoing, intentional journey. The beginning of that journey is marked by great anticipation and genuine excitement. A bride and groom have high hopes and great dreams as they start out life together. However, as in all journeys, unexpected challenges pop up, including the arrival of children, which requires the couple to cultivate valuable parenting skills—without a handbook! At each age, from preschool through elementary school, each child requires his or her parents to make adjustments along the way to keep the relationships harmonious. Just about the time parents get their arms around all of that, the teenage years arrive! This stretching and complicated time calls for even more adjustments and a greater willingness to change if the parents hope to sustain harmony in the home. Then, after all that adapting, a new set of challenges arrives—the children reach adulthood, with minds of their own. Can there still be mutual respect and meaningful relationships in the family? Can harmony continue between parents and their grown-up kids? Absolutely! The question is, how?
Though I can’t ask Dad for money or call him collect, I can pay tribute to him with a poem loosely adapted from that glorious ode to the perfect wife and mother that I first read when I was 13. This is my take on the Proverbs 31 Guy.
For a few minutes, I’d like you to think about your father—or, perhaps, about the predominant male role model in your youth. Meditate on what that one individual has contributed to your life.
Every parent of a special needs child has more questions than answers. But our Heavenly Father understands and promises His presence. And there’s no question about that.
Since our Lord is sovereign, not only are our times in His hands, so are all our possessions and all the people we love. Releasing our rights to Him includes the deliberate releasing of our grip on everything and everyone.
Late on a Tuesday in August the text message came. “Mom had an aneurism. She's in a coma. Not expected to live 24 hours.” We were on a remote island and even a float plane wouldn't get us back in time.
Most of us don't know how to rest. We work hard, and we spend our down time playing hard. We relentlessly pursue happiness and pleasure instead of observing times of renewal.
I'm still learning that there is no virtue in reading about Abraham's obedience. I must obey his God. There is no virtue in studying Jesus' words. I must put them into practice.
And when this stunningly gorgeous gal takes your arm and pulls you down the aisle, the minister talks but you don't hear him. You're too busy staring daggers at the boy you've been trying to keep on curfew for months.