Sometimes it's Hard to be a Believer & Mother at the Same time!

     Matthew 5:12, "Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you."  

Romans 5:3, "Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance;" 

James 1:12, "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."

     During times of trial and testing, I run to scripture for comfort. "There is joy in the midst of the trial!" God quietly whispers to my heart. Still, there are those times when I feel my heart shattering inside, mostly when the devil uses my own children against me. Sometimes it's difficult to be a believer and mother at the same time!

      My son instantly loved his new kindergarten class and teachers. He made several new friends and couldn’t wait to go school each day. For the first time, he was returning home from school happy. He was interested in what he was learning and talked about friends he had played with during the day. Unfortunately, my son also brought home, new sayings and a very challenging attitude.
      During the second month of school, my son began to act out.  It started one day, just after he woke up. My five-year-old was talking back to me! I was quite surprised since this behavior was contrary to his normal respectful attitude. Rather than hug me good morning as usual, with his baby blanket in arm, he walked straight past me and sat on the couch. His ugly attitude continued as I walked him to his kindergarten class. And, as soon as he returned home, he appeared rejuvenated with an even worse tongue. He repeatedly said, “You can’t make me,” to simple requests like, “Please put your lunchbox on the counter.” In one day, I had sent my son to more disciplinary timeouts than in an entire year. I retreated to think, “Where is my son, and who is this little person?”
The next day, he started throwing his toys and had a tantrum when I instructed him to get ready for school and eat his breakfast. His anger was escalating. By now, so was my frustration. Normally he was obedient. I couldn’t believe we were having a power struggle.
On the third day, around bedtime, my son asked if he could sleep with his shirt off. I told him he had to wear his shirt to bed because the apartment was cold at night and I didn’t want him to get sick. Unexpectedly, he said, “I want a new mommy!” His words shattered my heart. I was stunned and walked out of his room without finishing our normal bedtime prayer and routine. I cried, feeling lost.
        By the fourth day, I struggled to keep my adult head together. My son continued talking back and saying hurtful things, such as, “I want to go live with my daddy.” I told him I didn’t like the way he was treating me. He was acting downright mean. I asked about his school day and how the other kids behaved in class. “Are you copying someone in class who acts mean? Are you being picked on? Did someone hurt you?”  He just shook his head, “No” to each question. He even seemed confused by his behavior.
I began to sing, “Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand, against the devil’s schemes… be strong in the Lord.” My son sang the first part with me as he loves and knows the song well. During the song, I took a washable marker from the kitchen table to draw muscles on his arms and a shield on his chest with the word “GOD” across the shield. In my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice, I mimicked, “Oh you have big muscles for God.” He laughed his normal laugh.
         But then my son looked down at his chest, took the darkest colored marker from the table, and drew a big “X” across the word God. I sent him to bed, feeling very discouraged.
        After he fell asleep that night, I went into his room to pick up his clothes. The pictures of our family on his dresser were lying face down. I left his room feeling emotionally and physically exhausted. What was going on?
My first thought was to consider the impact of his father’s absence. But, then, we hadn’t lived with my husband in over a year and a half. Was he was feeling lost in public school? Finally, I excused his behavior as a result of being tired and adjusting to a new schedule. I reinstated naptime.  However, when he woke up from naps just as cranky and disrespectful, I ran out of excuses.
       Feeling discouraged, I confided in a friend for help. This particular friend holds a special place in my heart. She was the one I called upon my release from jail. Even though it was late at night and she had never driven without her husband at such a late hour, she insisted on being there to comfort me. I will never forget the gift of her sitting by my side and holding my hand in the lobby of the jail. She remained by my side as I waited for my parents to arrive. That night, we became more than work associates. Later, she would teach me about Scripture and encourage my walk with Christ. I came to rely on her for spiritual guidance as well as friendship in my life.
         So naturally, I called this friend to discuss my youngest son. She listened quietly as she had always done. Then she spoke about spiritual battles. She asked if I thought my son was battling against me because I was writing this book to worship the Lord. In her usual sweet demeanor, she offered to pray for my son. She called on the Lord and asked Him to visit my son in his dreams. I cried as she spoke. Her prayer was comforting and instantly eased my anxiety. She also prayed for God’s protection for me.
When she finished praying, my friend suggested that pray for my son while he slept.  After we ended the call, I took my bible to my son’s room. He was fast asleep. I made a cross on his forehead and chest and then prayed a very simple prayer, “God, please help me to help my son.”
The next day, my son woke up and he was silent. Although he was not acting his usual jovial self, he was no longer acting disrespectful either. As he dressed, I erased all of the names on my prayer board and put my son’s name across the board in large letters. I told him what I did. He lit up! He hugged me very tightly around the neck as he questioned, “What about the others?” I replied, “You need my prayers right now.”
My son put his jacket on for school. He then looked at the prayer board. He erased his name and wrote it again in even larger letters. Then he threw the hood of the jacket off his head, and said, “I am so mad right now.” I thought, here we go again!
I calmly asked, “What’s wrong?”  He said, “I am so mad at the devil for using me to say mean things to my mommy.”  My five-year-old son: so insightful. My eyes welled with tears.  I put my hands down, palm side up. He quickly slapped me “five.” In that moment, we were back to normal.
      We drove to school, and there he asked the other children if they believed in God. One child said he believed in dinosaurs. My son told him about God as they rolled their hula hoops around the blacktop. In the car, I silently thanked God for protecting my family from the devil’s schemes.

 Please share your thoughts in the comments section below! 

 To read this author's personal testimony please go to: http://dlouyoung.blogspot.com/p/store.html

Thank You God for Answering my Prayers this Christmas!

          Exodus 20:12 (NKJV) “Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you."

            For over one year my mother's name remained on my prayer board while I prayed, "Please Lord, won't you provide my mother with an opportunity to boldly profess her faith in You?" 

I started praying this particular prayer one morning after my mother had called. During that conversation, my mother shared a concern over losing her license to practice as a therapist. She said, "I want to talk about Jesus Christ with my clients but I am restricted by my license." I knew first hand the worry my mother felt. I too had felt God’s tug on my heart to share His message of hope with those who were hurting and in deep emotional pain. And like my mother, in the past, I faced worldly consequences for proselytizing. As a result, I knew just how to pray for her!

In each subsequent conversation, I graciously reminded my mother that God would protect her and watch over her as she spread the Word of Christ. Surprisingly one day, at the end of a phone call, my mother hesitantly asked me to add one of her client’s initials to my prayer board. She was careful to protect the hurting woman’s identity. Still, I assured my mother that God would know who the woman was, even if I only prayed using her initials.

Immediately, after saying our goodbyes, I went to my prayer board and wrote the client's first initial in the center of the board. Then, I instantly began to pray. "Please Lord, comfort this hurting and depressed woman."

            Next, I prayed for the remaining names on my prayer board. When I came to my mother's name, I prayed, "Please Lord, give her courage. Help her lead this hopeless woman to You even at the risk of losing her license. Father in Heaven, please help my mother boldly proclaim, 'I am a Christian therapist' so that others will know to come to her in order to find peace. In Your mighty name, Amen.”

            A few weeks later, I called my mother to catch up on the ins and outs of our daily lives. She listened patiently as I spoke about all the ways God had used me to reach out to others. Then, she said, "I was thinking about you yesterday. I don't know if I can tell you this story without crying." She continued, "This past week, when I met with my client, the client I had told you about, we prayed together." Speechless, I remained quiet.  Then my mother added, "This time, when my client started to weep over her sadness, I said to her, 'I want to share the hope I found in Jesus Christ.'” Amazing!

            My mother told me how her client simply listened as she spoke about the power my mother found through repentance.  Together, the two women prayed the sinner's prayer. I could hear my mother's joy resonate through the phone as she tearfully spoke about leading her client to Christ. Quietly, I praised God.

            After my mother finished her story, I told her I was proud of her. In response, my mother said those beautiful and sweet words I had been praying to hear her say. She said, "Well after all, I am a Christian Therapist!"

         Please share your thoughts in the comments section below!

And to read the first written and published Christian personal testimony 

please go to: http://dlouyoung.blogspot.com/p/store.html