A few months ago, I found out we would be going through Beth Moore’s Children of the Day for our Fall Bible study. This is a study through 1 & 2 Thessalonians. It looks like a great study, and I was eager to jump in. Knowing we still had a few months before we would even have our books, I decided to spend some time reading 1 & 2 Thessalonians. In doing this, I fell in love with the Thessalonian people!
If you’d like to learn a little about the Thessalonians, you can watch this video where I teach about the people with whom I long to be best friends.
If you’re in the Greenville, SC area and would like to participate in our Fall Bible study, you can can register here.
You’ve been on my mind a lot. Some days, I forget you’re gone. I’ll be driving down the road, think of something, and reach for my phone to call you. Then I remember.
I’ve remembered a lot this week.
It’s now been two years since you died, and it still breaks my heart. It was just too soon. I wasn’t ready for you not to be in my life.
I’m a mama now, and you were supposed to be here for that. You were supposed to be the one I called every day to report how tired I was or how many times Asher smiled. (The report would have been, “I’m very tired, and I lost count of how many times he smiled, so I don’t care that I’m tired.”) You were supposed to give me advice on how to take care of Asher. Most of it would have probably gone against half of what the pediatrician said, but you would have told me that it worked for your babies and your grandbabies, so it will work for my baby. You were supposed to be here on my hardest days as a mama to tell me you’re proud of me and everything would be OK.
Sometimes, I feel sad for Asher because he doesn’t get to grow up with you in his life. You made my life so much better, and I want that for him as well. Then, I hear your voice from long ago.
I was an awkward teenager. In a world filled with beautiful people (my own mother was literally a model), I felt ugly. Then, I got contacts. Green ones. People complimented me regularly on my bright green eyes, and they made me feel just a little bit pretty.
You didn’t like them. You didn’t think I needed them. For years, you asked me to go back to clear contacts. Finally, you told me why: “You have my eyes.”
When we learned about genetics in high school, I mourned (dramatically) the fact that I didn’t have brown eyes like my parents (after I was confused about genetics and for about 10 minutes thought I was adopted or switched at birth). You replied, “I’ve always liked that you have my eyes.”
Any time I would say, “I wish I looked like so and so,” you would say, “But you have my eyes, and I like that.”
I like that, too.
I hope when Asher looks into my eyes, he’ll be able to see you.
When I peel an apple for him and hand it to him with a smile, I hope he’ll see you.
When we bake a cake together and I hand him chocolate covered spoons, I hope he’ll see you.
When he’s angry and ready to stomp off and I blow raspberries at him to make him laugh, I hope he’ll see you.
When he’s sad and comes to me for comfort, I hope he’ll see you.
When he earns a good grade at school and looks to me for affirmation, I hope he’ll see you.
When he seeks me out to share in his joy, I hope he’ll see you.
When he looks at me with his big, goofy grin and I can’t help but smile back at him, I hope he’ll see you.
And when he sees you in me, I hope he also sees Christ, because that’s who you taught me to see when I looked at you.
Thank you for pointing me to Him. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for giving me your eyes.
I love you, Grandmama.
If you read my last post, you know I’ve been struggling with a few things, mainly with the avenue we’ll be taking to adopt. I was praying for clarity and peace while I was on our church’s women’s retreat over the weekend. Thank you all for praying with and for me!
Friday night, Whitney and Lauren taught us a new worship song, I Shall Not Want by Audry Assad. God spoke to me through the prayer-like lyrics, and the chorus has been with me for days.
As soon as I heard the chorus, God reminded me of something that was already floating around in my mind: When He puts our family together, when I taste the goodness of Him working in our lives, when I experience the joy of God singing over us as we sing over our babies, I shall not want.
It’s going to be a beautiful moment.
I have the privilege of serving third graders at my church on Sunday mornings. They have powerful, space-themed curriculum that is teaching them to be ambassadors for Christ. Yesterday’s lesson was, by far, one of my favorites this year.
The lesson centered around the persecution of Christians, a topic that has come up a few times as they’ve studied the book of Acts. Specifically, they learned about early Christians worshiping in the catacombs (basically underground cemeteries with tunnels and bones). In order to engage the children well in the lesson, the Fellowship Kids staff set up a special room for worship.
The children had to whisper and walk quietly into the room, showing a card with a fish symbol on it to communicate secretly to the worship leader they were Christians. Once we were all in the room, we sang quietly so the Roman soldiers wouldn’t hear us and arrest us for worshiping Jesus.
Singing quietly next to tables covered with bones stirred within me thoughts of our risen Savior. His bones aren’t in the catacombs. His bones aren’t in a grave anywhere. We worship a risen Savior who defeated death.
I also thought about the dedication members of the early church must have had to worship in the catacombs. They loved Jesus enough that they were willing to go underground and worship surrounded by death, probably a constant reminder of their own fate if they were caught. I imagine it was cold and damp, and the stench of death likely filled their noses and saturated their clothing. Yet they were faithful.
I have the freedom to worship Jesus openly and publicly. I have a cushy seat at church each week, and I serve third graders under the glow of a black light in a space ship. I have more Bibles than a shelf can contain.
Yet I find myself wandering.
The things of this world grab my attention daily. They distract me from my personal time with the Lord, and they bombard my thoughts during times of corporate worship.
I oversleep and miss my time in the Word, and I feel rushed and flustered on Sunday mornings.
But, in other parts of the world, Christians gather quietly. They share God’s Word with one another in hushed tones and sing softly to their Savior, knowing their fate if they were to be discovered.
I needed that visit to the catacombs yesterday. I needed the reminder of my risen Savior, and I needed the reminder that I have it easy as an American Christian. I needed to remember there are persecuted Christians all over the world.
Would you take a moment and pray for the persecuted church? Maybe even ask God what He wants you to do about it. I’ll be praying with you.
For years, I’ve dabbled with blogging. Each time I wanted to blog about a new subject, such as crafting, I started a new blog, resulting in four separate blogs. Rather than continuing with those individual blogs, I decided to create a site (with a lot of help from Husby) that would incorporate all of them. Thus, rachelleadams.com was born.
If you’re viewing my blog on a computer, you can find the categories from my previous blogs over on the right. For now, I have crafting, photography, uncategorized (maybe I’ll come up with a catchy name for “everything else” at some point), and weight loss. There are two additional categories I hope to incorporate within the next few weeks, but I’ll tell you more about those as the time comes. My crafting and photography blogs did not have much content, but I hope to add to those categories this year.
My goal this year is to blog at least three times a week, regardless of the topic. So, I may have a week that is nothing but craft posts followed by a week of photography projects. The goal is simply to write more this year.
When I was in sixth grade, I said I wanted to be a writer. More specifically, I said I was going to write a book. Eleven-year-old Rachelle, I’m sorry I haven’t lived out your dream. :O) I don’t have any immediate plans to write a book, but I can at least exercise my writing muscles this year. If you’d like to follow along, I’d love to have a reader or two!
For those of you who read my old blogs, here is a little cheat sheet:
Crafting Category = craftchelle.blogspot.com
Photography Category = shutterchelle.blogspot.com
Weight Loss Category = chubbychelley.blogspot.com
Uncategorized Category = rachelleville.blogspot.com