Do your kids use Moogle? This was around long before Google started answering our every question.
“Mom, how far is it to the moon?”
“Mom, were those hills formed by glaciers or lava?”
“Mom, is Antarctica the largest continent?”
This last question was the first thing I was asked this morning as I was blindly groping for the coffee pot. I don’t think my son was satisfied with my mumbled, “I, ur, uh, ah.” In one way I suppose it is flattering that my children hold my intelligence in such high esteem, as I really don’t know the right answers on a lot of what they ask. On the other hand the incessant questions are tiring. Sometimes I simply have to call a time-out on all the questions my kids continually ask, just to give my brain a break.
I love that we can ask God all the questions we want. In fact, He LOVES to have us ask questions. I think we get caught up in the idea that prayer has to be a formal thing, began and ended properly. However, in the Bible, Paul reminds us to pray unceasingly. This sounds more like a running dialog to me, which I love, because I love to talk! (My children come by their talking natures naturally.) God is the original Google, and He repeatedly encourages us to ask and seek from Him.
The other wonderful thing is God never needs a break from our questions. He doesn’t get overwhelmed, stressed, tired or hungry. He is even awake in the middle of the night when we wake up with questions. Sometimes we may “hear” an answer, and other times we might find an answer as we read the Bible since it is full of promises for us. Because it is a “living” book, the answers to our questions have a way of popping off the page at just the right moments.
Even if an answer from God takes a little more time than an answer from Google, we can be sure that He is listening and He will answer. I am also sure His answers will be a lot more accurate than Moogle’s!
“Pray continually.” I Thessalonians 5:17


Spring is thunderstorm season where I live. Great big piles of dark clouds show up and bump into each other. We get hail showers that always thrill my children. For a little while the sky will be glowering and dark.
Last spring right after one of these storms, while the sky overhead still loomed gray and heavy, I drove down the hill to the next town over. I ended up driving out from under the cloud mass into brilliant sunshine, quite a change from where I had just been. In the sunlight everything showed up bright and new-looking.
As I finished my errand and turned my car toward home, I was astonished to see how black the clouds looked with the sun shining on them. They hadn’t seemed that dark when I was still under them. I had a whole new perspective from my vantage point in the light.

Every. Single. Time.
By this time I am sure you are wondering what on earth I am talking about. It is a most basic human need: going to the bathroom. I am guessing most of you mothers can relate, as soon as I sit down, a child bursts through my door. I really have no other explanation than an alarm system in my toilet seat. You may ask why I don’t simply lock the door. Two reasons. One, my children work on doorknobs until they pop the locks. Two, they would just stand on the other side of the door and yell to me. As I mentioned, I also tried sneaking in and leaving the door open. Nope, someone was there immediately. Lately when someone runs in I don’t even bother saying “Out!” I just make a noise like someone stepped on a sheep, “Blaaah!” It usually sends them back out the door quickly.
I hadn’t realized my nieces and nephews had rigged my sister’s bathroom. I was over there a couple days ago and sure enough, from the other side of the door, “Auntie? Auntie? Can you hear me?”
So for now I will join in Paul’s prayer in Colossians 4:3-6, “And pray for us, too, that God may open a door, (hopefully not the bathroom door) for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ…Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; (even those outside your bathroom door) make the most of every opportunity, (even the irritating ones.) Let your conversation be always full of grace…so that you may know how to answer everyone.”
Do you remember your grandma’s hands? I remember my great-grandmother’s hands. Gnarled from arthritis, but still strong. Pouring love into the peach cobbler she was sure to have warm from the oven when we would arrive. I recall one time she was ruefully looking at her wrinkled hands. She thought they were past their prime, I thought they were beautiful.
My sister and I would make cards and pictures ahead of time to hand out after the service, carefully coloring and gluing pictures to pieces of construction paper. As we would make our rounds I would hand a little piece of my heart, glued to paper, to eager hands. What they really wanted to hold, though were my hands.
march of time. There was almost an urgency, an insistence behind those clasps. As though I were giving them a quick reminder of life and youth, the same feeling you would have holding a fresh rose.
In those quick moments, I almost feel as if they were handing me a baton. They were imparting their strength to encourage me to run the race well. There was an expectation as well, that when it comes my time that I will also hand over that baton and cheer on the next runners of this marathon called life.
My little three year old had quite a day today. She started off by playing with the phone and accidentally dialing 911. When the emergency operator called back, her older brother assured them that everything was fine. A few minutes later, of course, the sheriff knocked at the door to double check. My five year old beat everyone to the door and opened it wide. My three year old proudly joined her brother at the door, wearing nothing but her birthday suit. I am not sure what the officers thought at this point, but they were quickly assured that we were indeed fine, that baby was just playing with the phone and is potty-training.
Shortly after this, her brother decided to dump a cup of water over her head. Then he decided to flush her favorite sticker, “Little Johnny,” down the toilet. By this time she figured maybe she should just go outside for awhile, only to discover a frog in her shoe! It is a good thing that toddlers are resilient, (and mothers too!) She took all this in stride, and even enjoyed telling us the ‘fwog in my shoe’ story over and over.


It made me think about our lives and how we try to do the same thing. We clean up our act or clean up our mouths. We try to be good people. However we get the same results I got with my house cleaning. When the light comes in it shows that our efforts, no matter how sincere, are simply not good enough. We are just not able to clean ourselves.
Thank goodness for Jesus! He came to do the job for us. He is the ultimate “house keeper.” When we finally decide to give up and tell Him we have had enough of trying to do it on our own, He shows up to wash us whiter than snow, cleanse us from our sin, and purify us from unrighteousness. After that there is no more worry about what the light of day might reveal about our hearts.
Another great thing about Jesus is He is not like the house keepers at the hotels, the ones who make up the room while you are gone and you never really get to know. Once He is in your life He is closer to you than anyone else and just a prayer away. In fact He promises to never leave you stranded, to be with you always. So while I may never have a perfectly clean house here on Earth, I can look forward to eternity spent with Jesus in a heavenly mansion that will never need a house keeper.