1 John Chapter 1

“. . . but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses from all sin.” ~ I John 1:7

A Prayer Over Our Children

Oh Lord, let my child see, hear, and touch Your Word of Life that she may boldly proclaim to all people that You are Light. Make her joy complete, oh God, and draw her close to You in intimate communion. OH Father, I pray that You will surround her not with darkness but let her walk in the Light as You are in the Light so that she may know fellowship one with another. Foster within my child a heart of repentance, oh God, so she may confess her sins and be purified by Your blood from all unrighteousness. Be faithful to my child, oh God, I pray.

​The flu is running rampant. One by one, entire family members and students are dropping like flies. So, it was with this paranoia in mind that my breath caught in my throat when Sweet Pea came down with a low-grade fever.
     
​Oh no! my thoughts panicked. Could this be the flu?
     
Yet, despite my daughter’s complaints of fever and chills, her energetic dramatization and chatty disposition caused me to be suspect. Does she really have a fever? I wondered as she curled under the covers. She talked a mile a minute. Even the thermometer did not stop her line of discourse. 
     
“And Mommy, can I sleep with my new stuffy, Frankie?” The bright tones enthused around the popsicle-like stick jutting from her mouth. “What’s my temperature?” she asked curiously.
     
“99.9 degrees,” answered my husband whose hand now laid against Sweet Pea’s forehead. “A slight fever,” he said, nodding my way.
     
Here is where I have a confession to make. Not only do I possess a proclivity towards grumpiness when, I, or a member of my household is sick…But, I am also part hypochondriac. This means, upon hearing the symptomology of one’s illness, my imagination immediately adopts the maladies of that sickness. In other words, I begin making mountains out of molehills.
     
“My eye lids feel hot,” reported Sweet Pea. Instantly, imaginary heat raged against my eyelids as I conjured up visions of the flu. Get a hold of yourself! I inwardly scolded, Get it together, girl.
     
Yet, my paranoia put me on edge. I am ashamed to admit it, but irritation bubbled beneath the surface of my Motherly exterior. Rather than matronly comfort and compassion, my thoughts screamed, Get me out of here! Don’t catch what she has!
     
Twenty minutes later, Sweet Pea’s temperature rose 2 degrees. Despite this increase and her flushed cheeks, Sweet Pea still skipped and flitted with happy abandon. Her chipper and cheery behavior confounded me, raising doubts in my mind. Is she faking this fever? Is she doing all this to get attention? But one cannot argue with a thermometer, can they?
   
Once more, Mrs. Grump flared. It did not help that the old thermometer died in mid-procedure and a new one needed to be hastily purchased. Nor did it help that the last of her fever reducing medicine was consumed and another trip to the grocery store was once more required. I grumbled stripping her bed and placing on new sheets. I grumbled as she complained of being cold. I grumbled when I reminded her to drink water. In truth, I grumbled because her joy rubbed in the face of my own sour disposition.
     
There I stood, attempting to tamp down my attitude, but failing miserably. Full-out grump threatened to spill out as I questioned Sweet Pea. Frustrated with myself and stress over our potential status as the next flu victims, I did what any woman would do. Eat chocolate.
     
“Sweet Pea,” I enthused with false sweetness, “I’m going to make chocolate chip cookies.” 
     
“Oh boy!” exclaimed my little girl, her eyes wide. Understandably, she misinterpreted my sudden baking urge to be an offering for her sole benefit. 
     
“Thank you!” she sparkled, “You’re the best Mommy ever!”
     
However, my husband who stood beside me, knew better. He quirked an eyebrow at me, knowing full-well that my offer was not philanthropic in the least and self-motivated in the full.
     
“I’ll start the laundry,” I readied myself to flee, hugging an armful of sheets to my chest, “then I’ll start the cookies.”
     
“Oh goodie!” Sweet Pea jumped in excitement. My husband just shook his head and stepped out of the way. So, at 7:30 at night, I began baking cookies.
     
She’s either sick or she is not, I grumped to the Lord. I poured in the baking soda and salt only to discover that my flour jar was almost empty.
     
“Oh no!” My breath caught in my throat. Where did all the flour go? How would I make chocolate chip cookies? I needed them! 
     
After frantically rummaging through my pantry, I found a baggie of excess flour squirreled away in the back corner. Disaster averted, my hands now flew to make the batter. 
     
Sweet Pea thumped and bumped with her energetic play. The floor vibrated and walls shook.
     
“Her temperature just went up a little,” said my husband. He entered the kitchen with thermometer in hand. The refrigerator door opened as he reached for a bottle of water. “She needs more fluids.” 
     
I just nodded, my hands covered in sticky, sweet cookie dough. But inwardly, my spirit grumbled.
     
Lord, it’s just not fair, I silently complained, we’ve been so careful. Not the flu! But, before my grumblings could continue, a sweet voice filled the air.
     
“Oh Lord, My God…I will give thanks to You, forever.” Sweet Pea’s sang, her happy tones traveled down the hallway. Confined to her room, my little girl happily played. Joy radiated through her as strength. For despite her increasing temperature, Sweet Pea raised her voice high and loud.
     
“Oh Lord, my God…I will give thanks to You!” she sang, lost in her own world of song and play. My husband and I paused in our tasks, letting her words fall like summer rain upon our souls. Conviction pricked at my conscience. If my sick little girl could be thankful and praise the Lord, should not her Momma? Oh Lord, forgive me for my ingratitude, my eyes closed in a silent prayer of repentance, help me to give thanks to You no matter what. Even if she does have the flu.
     
The praise and worship music continued to blare through the house. Thunk! Bump! My daughter’s energetic play added to the beat, creating a rhythmic backdrop of its own.
     
“Oh Lord, my God…I will give thanks to You, forever!” Sweet Pea enthused with the music; her joy infectious. This time, tiny bubbles of light burst from the deep, swirling and splitting the darkness in me. Like sun rays bursting through stormy clouds, a smile spread slowly over my face as the bubbles popped their pockets of joy and diffused their light. “Oh Lord, my God…I will give thanks to You…FOREVER!” finished my little girl with gusto.
     
Later that evening, after cookies, story time, and prayers, I tucked Sweet Pea beneath the covers. Her proclamations of praise still resonated within my ears. Yet, a pile of laundry awaited me on my bed, demanding my attention. In full Mommy-cleaning mode, I hustled to complete the task. But as I faced the mountain of clothing before me, stillness settled around me. The quiet sounds of Sweet Pea’s breathing filtered through the monitor. My husband’s fingers clacked on his keyboard with the television quietly talking in the background. Even the tap-tap of rain against the windowpane called to me. 
     
What words were Sweet Pea singing earlier? I mused, picking up shirts and folding them. Something about being thankful…Then over the playlist on my phone, a song albeit different than the one sung by my little girl, coursed over the air.
         
“Your praise…will…ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips. Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips.” I froze as the message of the song permeated my being. My little girl thanked God earlier through her song of praise, but should I not likewise offer such praises to my King? Should not His praises ever be on my lips regardless of my circumstances? After all, my little girl was not throwing up. Her temperature was not 104 or 105 degrees. No aches or pains darkened her doorstep. But, even if a host of symptoms should slay her, should I not be thankful? Should I not offer praises, even more so in the good than in the bad?
     
And so, with the gentle thrum of the winter rain against my bedroom window, I began to dance. Slowly with laundry in hand, I swayed side to side. My face tilted high to the heavens and my eyes closed. Silently, I mouthed the words to the song.
     
“Your praise…will…ever be on my lips. Ever be on my lips. Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips.” Again, and again my soul sang, spirit soaring. Then as gentle as butterfly wings, I took a step. I presented myself as a humble thanks offering before the Lord. My foot extended and my legs leaped. My arms raised and my hands lifted. Even the laundry I still held waved like palm branches in the air. Then, with a twirl and a bursting forth of praise, I spun in rapid motion.
     
“You will be praised! You will be praised! With angels and saints, we’ll sing worthy are You, Lord.”
     
With my husband’s pants in my arms as my dance partner, I spun and leaped to the music. Joy course like lifeblood through my veins. 
     
​“You will be praised! You will be praised!” Legs lifted into a twirl and arms reached heavenward. “With angels and saints, we’ll sing worthy are You, Lord!” Adoration throbbed deep in my chest, beating for expression. It could not be contained or tamped down. It had to be set free. “And that’s why I sing, Your praise will…ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips. Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips!”
   
Friends, it can be so easy to let the winter rain steal our joy or to allow everyday life to burden us. But, how would our attitude change if we kept God’s devoted love constantly at the forefront of our mind? What would our days be like if we kept our eyes open to see God’s everyday mercies?  How would our mentality be if we constantly reminded ourselves of God’s faithfulness to us both in the past, present, and future to come? If we took time to daily dwell upon God’s patience, love, and kindness rather than our own troubles, would this not issue forth thanksgiving and gratitude from our hearts? For when we shift our focus and attention to our faithful, devoted, and loving God and contemplate His goodness, our response cannot help but be that of thanksgiving and worship
     
When it is dark, when it is painful, but especially when it is good, let God’s praises ring out from our lips. Why? Because it is through the blood of Christ Jesus that we are freed from all our guilt and rid of all our shame. It is because God shoulders our weaknesses and makes us whole again. It is because He is good and He is Light. It is because we are not defined by our failures, troubles, or shortcomings, but rather, our true identity in Christ. 
     
What is our true identity and who are we, you may ask? We are beautiful, precious, children of God. We are Sons and Daughters of the Most High King. We are beloved, Chosen, and Free. May this be our perspective as we go throughout today. May we allow God’s character and love to illuminate our own darkness and permeate the gloom. May our hearts be filled with thanksgiving and our lips ever be filled with praise.

Click to listen to this beautiful song on YouTube

​A Parent’s Prayer

Oh Lord, help me to praise and give thanks to You in both the good times and the bad. Fill my heart to overflowing with Your joy despite my circumstances. Oh God, make Your faithfulness and love real to me this day, that I may see and taste of Your goodness. Illuminate my heart and drive away the darkness so that Your Light may live within me and that I may worship You. Amen.