Thanksgiving Archives - Jodie Berndt

“Don’t feed your own face” (and other Thanksgiving helps)

11.20.2022

It’s almost turkey time! And while I love pretty much everything Thanksgiving brings—the counting of blessings, the watching of football, even the holding of noses as I prepare Robbie’s must-have sauerkraut—I know that wherever two or more are gathered, conversation can happen.

Maybe it’s an as-yet-undiscovered tryptophan side-effect, but Thanksgiving can bring out all the opinions. The brother who’s positive you voted wrong. The aunt who wonders if you’ve gained weight (and should you really eat all that pie?). The child who comes home from college and proclaims herself vegan so “can we please have something besides turkey this year?”

Truth be told, it’s not just holiday gatherings that highlight our differences. We’ve been at odds with each other since…well, since Abel and Cain. And yet, as believers, we are called to love one another. To value others above ourselves. To make “every effort” to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification.

All of these passages—and countless others—underscore the fact that God wants his children to get along. And I know the holiday wasn’t even invented when he was writing, but I can’t help but think Paul might have had some sort of prophetic foretaste of Thanksgiving when he reached out to the Romans:

Let’s agree to use all our energy in getting along with each other. Help others with encouraging words; don’t drag them down by finding fault.…

When you sit down to a meal, your primary concern should not be to feed your own face but to share the life of Jesus. So be sensitive and courteous to the others who are eating. Don’t eat or say or do things that might interfere with the free exchange of love. (Romans 14:19-21)

Get along with each other. Use encouraging words. Don’t feed your own face, but share Jesus with love.

Don’t feed your own face.

A helpful Thanksgiving hint, to be sure. But how do we do all of this in real life, with real people? How do we (quoting Paul again) “welcome with open arms fellow believers who don’t see things the way you do—even when it seems that they are strong on opinions but weak in the faith department”? (Romans 14:1) How do we ensure that our conversations—at Thanksgiving and throughout the year—are colored by kindness instead of the “gotcha” mindset that listens not with a desire to understand, but with the intent to counter or correct?

I’m sure there are plenty of biblically based steps we might take, but here are three tried-and-true strategies for having good conversations with people who don’t always think like we do.

First, we can remember that when Jesus asked God to bring us to “complete unity”, he didn’t mean we’d all be the same. Unity allows for plenty of differences (everything from political ideologies to preferences in cranberry sauce; anybody else’s husband think it “has” to come out of a can?), while recognizing that those things don’t define us. What defines us is our identity as God’s beloved. As his image-bearers. As people who can love, 1 John 4:19 reminds us, because God first loved us.

Second, we can do the Philippians 2:3-4 thing and be humble. There’s nothing wrong with holding strong opinions. But let’s value the interests of others, knowing that additional information might sharpen or enhance our own perspective. And if we remain unconvinced about a particular topic, we can borrow a line from my friend’s ever-diplomatic grandmother: “You may be right.” (That’s a great way to wrap a discussion, especially when served with a smile and followed with something like, “Would you care for some more pumpkin pie?”)

And finally (you knew this was coming), we can pray. We can ask God to keep us mindful of verses like Proverbs 18:2 (“Fools find no pleasure in understanding but delight in airing their own opinions”). We can trust him to “set a guard over our lips” (Psalm 141:3) And we can pray for an extra helping of grace and peace as we gather together.

Which is, in fact, how Peter began one of his letters. “Grace and peace,” he wrote, “be yours in abundance.”

If you’d like a visible reminder of that little—but powerful!—prayer, pop over to Instagram or Facebook, where you can screenshot that graphic in my stories and use it as a Lock Screen for your phone:

May grace and peace be yours in abundance. (2 Peter 1:2)

Happy Thanksgiving!

❤️

P.S. Every year, people ask me to share the recipe for Robbie’s sauerkraut. And every year, I start with a warning: You’ll need one hand to fix the “beloved” side dish and the other to get a firm grip on your nose.

Here you go:

Fill a saucepan about one-third of the way up with water.

Drain one or two cans of sauerkraut and add them to the pot.

Mix in a spoonful of bacon drippings, a splashy of Worcester sauce, some salt and pepper, and ¼ cup of brown sugar.

Cover and simmer for several hours, stirring occasionally (and adding more water if needed) until the entire house reeks.

Enjoy!

(And pssst. If you want more prayers you can use to love well—not just at Thanksgiving, but throughout the year—you’ll find an entire chapter on the subject in Praying the Scriptures for Your Life. No time to read during the holiday rush? Download an easy-to-use prayer calendar here.)

Printable Prayers for Your Thanksgiving Table

11.20.2021

(In case you missed these last year, I’m sliding into your inbox with a set of printable prayers for your Thanksgiving table–or wrap ’em up as a hostess gift if you’re not doing the cooking!)

Happy Almost Thanksgiving!

Robbie and I are gearing up to host our whole crew: Two sets of newlyweds, extended in-laws, a couple of grandbabies, and at least one pair of very sleep-deprived parents. Plus, we’ve got an assortment of four-legged guests. Tilly the Quarantine Kitty is making the trek from the Big Apple and bringing her brand-new bunkmate:

It’s shaping up to be the good kind of crazy.

Except…the dishwasher is leaking.

As is the puppy.

Which is why I am glad I still have last year’s set of printable prayers. I might be up to my eyeballs in dirty dishes and puppy pee pads, but at least the Thanksgiving table has a chance to look good!

Even more than that, the prayer cards serve tangible reminders of what Alexander Macleran, the great British preacher, called “the crowded kindnesses of God.”

The printable prayers include thirteen different 5″ x 7″ cards featuring topics like protection, diligence, kindness, salvation, and gratitude. I tucked a card into each place setting last year; they’d also be fun to “hide” under plates for folks to discover when they help clear the dishes. And who knows? Maybe your guests might even be nudged to use the cards to pray for each other before the tryptophan coma sets in!

Click here to download the prayer cards on your laptop or home computer (the file is too big to work on a phone).

And as you reflect on God’s crowded kindnesses–his provision, his mercy, his love–may you continue to be rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith, and overflowing with thankfulness! (Colossians 2:6-7)

❤️

P.S. The printable prayers make a nice teacher or hostess gift, especially if you print them on quality card stock and add a display easel. I found this gold one on Amazon (it comes in a package of six):

And psst…I’m also working on an Advent-themed printable exclusively for email subscribers. Be on the lookout for that one in the next week or so–assuming the new puppy doesn’t eat my homework!

A Thanksgiving Present for You!

11.23.2020

Happy Almost Thanksgiving!

I know I’m not a Monday email-er, but I’m sliding into your inbox today to kick off Thanksgiving week and let you know how much I appreciate YOU.

When we launched the 20th Anniversary Edition of Praying the Scriptures for Your Children, my publishing team tucked a set of Scripture prayer cards in with some of the very first copies of the book.

We had no idea how popular those cards would be, but once I realized how much people liked them, I asked the design folks if they could re-create the cards in a printable form so I could share them with our growing online friend group. I’m so incredibly grateful for your encouragement and support!

Click here to download the prayer cards on your laptop or home computer (the file is too big to work on a mobile device).

The set includes thirteen different 5″ x 7″ cards featuring topics like protection, diligence, kindness, salvation, and gratitude. I think they’d be fun tucked into napkins or hidden under plates at the Thanksgiving table–maybe as a “prayer prompt” folks can use to pray for the person seated to their right, if your crew is comfy with that.

Or, if you’re one of those squared-away people who is already done wrapping-and-tagging, the prayer cards make meaningful stocking stuffers (especially if you pray them over your children while Santa tucks the cards in with the gifts)!

If you’re looking for a thoughtful gift for a friend or a teacher, package all thirteen cards together with a little easel. I found this one on Amazon as part of a set of six; click here if that appeals.

Or…just print the collection for yourself. 😊

And as you do, know that I have prayed each one of these prayers over you. I may not know all your names or your needs, but God does. I love knowing that you are on “the other side” of these emails, and that we can meet, as a friend of mine says, “on the bridge of prayer.”

I thank my God every time I remember you. (Philippians 1:3)

Much love,

Jodie

P.S. The prayer cards are meant as a thank you gift for email subscribers, but if you want to forward this note, that’s fine with me. Of course, I always love “meeting” new friends, so if you know someone who might like to receive these posts and prayer prompts (the emails show up once or twice a month on random Fridays), please invite them to subscribe. Thank you for sharing!

Black Friday Favorite (Plus a Promo Code!)

11.29.2019

It’s Black Friday. Which means that nobody has time for blog reading. So I’ll keep this one short.

Because if you’re like me…

You’ve built your day (okay, your season) around football. Specifically, you’ve built it around today’s matchup between the Beloved Cavaliers of U.Va. and the Reviled Hokies of Virginia Tech. Never mind that Virginia hasn’t won this particular contest in 15 years; Vegas oddsmakers are calling this one a toss-up.

(Which, as every diehard U.Va. fan will tell you, means that there’s a 90% chance we will lose.)

(But hey. Faith the size of a mustard seed, and all that.)

And if you’re like the rest of the tryptophan-coma’d Americans…

You’ve built your day around shopping. And I’ll let you get to it. With just one little recommendation, before you go.

Get yourself a Growth Book.

I didn’t even know such a thing existed a few months ago, but now that I have one, I’m hooked. Part prayer journal, part accountability partner, part “dream big” encourager, the Growth Book can literally be a life-changing tool.

Unlike most journals, this one comes with prompts. There are sections for setting goals, keeping track of your prayers (and God’s faithfulness!), and recording which parts of the Bible you’ve read.

And, since the pages are designed with dots (they’re not blank; they’re not lined), there’s room for both the creative types and the more anal among us to flourish. For instance, here’s how my daughter Hillary might opt to memorize Scripture…

…and here’s how I’d do it:

Best of all, you get to decide how you want to use your Growth Book. Thanks to a clever system of stickers and labels, you create your own Table of Contents…

…meaning that if you take notes on a sermon or podcast one day and then start noodling about career dreams the next, you don’t waste any pages. You just put a handy little marker in your book so you never have to say, “Shoot! I know I had a good idea last month. Where did I put that?”

There’s so much more to say (like, I love the big post-it notes that you use every month to see what’s working well and what isn’t), but I know. Amazon’s calling. So get back to your Black Friday shopping. First, though, can I just give you a little Black Friday present?

I met Bree (the brainchild behind the Growth Book) when she gave me my book. And even though I’ve only known her for a few months, I feel like we’re friends. Good enough friends that I could say, “Can I please have a promo code?”

And she said yes!

So if you want your own book, click here to visit the Growth Roots Co. website. And if you want to know more before you jump in, click here to see what’s inside. And if you want to get 15% off (um, that would be a yes please), put JOY15 in the promo code box before you check out.

And for those who don’t want to buy anything but still want to grow, here’s a Black Friday Prayer that can help:

Heavenly Father,

May our roots grow down into You, and may our lives be built on You. Cause our faith to grow strong in the truth we were taught and let us overflow with thankfulness. (Colossians 2:7)

Amen

❤️

P.S. One more thing. Maybe two.

First, to all of you “I need to do this the right way” people (anyone? anyone?), here’s a little heads up: Don’t obsess. You’ll get your book and you’ll be intimidated. I was. I kind of still am. The pages look so good blank and you won’t want to mess ’em up until you know what you’re doing. But don’t wait. Jump on in. You’ll figure it out as you go. Plus, Bree offers all sorts of tutorials on Instagram (@growthrootsco), and there’s actually a new “how to” page that comes with every book purchase. #Helpful

And second, consider giving a Growth Book to your friends. It meets all of the “must have” Christmas criteria: Something you want (to grow closer to Jesus), something you need (to grow closer to Jesus), something to wear (the book can double as a hat in the rain – trust me), and something to read (because you’ll return to what you’ve written, over and over again).

Parking Place Prayers: Yes or No?

11.22.2019

One of my favorite things about being an author is getting to travel around the country and talk about how we can pray for the people we love. And one of the people I love just happened to be able to join me earlier this month at an event in Greenwich, Connecticut…

Our daughter Virginia thought she was just there to listen, but when we got to the Q&A part of the evening, someone in the crowd had a question for her. “How did you feel,” the woman wondered, “about growing up with a mother who prayed?”

Never one to shy away from an honest question, Virginia got up and grabbed hold of the mic.

“I didn’t like it,” she said.

I held my breath. This could go any number of ways.

“For starters,” Virginia said, “Mom was always praying that if we did anything wrong, we’d get caught. And we were always getting caught.

“And,” she continued, “She made us pray all the time. Like, if we were going to the mall, we’d pray about what we had to buy. And we’d ask God for a parking space. Or to give us energy, if we felt tired. It all just felt like…a lot.”

I could feel the crowd tensing up. I knew what they were thinking. They’d been tracking with me during my talk (when I’d covered things like asking God to provide self-control in our children, protection for our teens, and help for our older kids as they battled addictions, marriage break-ups, and other grown-up issues), but this was new ground. Shopping trips? Parking places? Energy levels? Were those really the sort of details we should be bugging God with? Doesn’t he have more important things on his mind?

Happily, Virginia wasn’t quite finished.

“It seemed strange, at the time,” she said. “Looking back, though, I think it was really good for us to hear, and be part of, prayers about everyday things. It made talking to God so much more real and relational, rather than something that we thought of as scary, complicated, or just plain hard to do.”

I exhaled, wiped an invisible bead of sweat from my brow, and thanked Virginia for her candor.

Is it okay to pray about life’s little stuff?

Later that week, though, I started to wonder. Is it okay to talk to God about life’s little stuff? Like, I would never want my familiarity with him to take away from his holiness, from the fact that he is actually God. And if I did not get a primo parking spot, I hoped he knew that I’d be okay. It wouldn’t derail my faith; rather, I would probably reason that God knew I needed the walk–and maybe even that I needed to thank him for the fact that I could walk.

Still though, the question lingered. I had a professor in college who admonished me for “talking a lot, but never saying anything.” I didn’t want God to see me in the same light, as though my prayers made him think of a small yappy dog.

And then, as if on cue, the doorbell rang. It was the Amazon guy, bringing me a new book:

(Sidebar: If you follow me on Instagram, you know that I have a bit of a #hoardingsituation going on when it comes to books about prayer…

…that pic is only about half of my stash.)

Anyhow, I opened How to Pray and (not making this up) I read this:

“One of the greatest theological questions of our time in the realm of petitionary prayer appears to be whether we should ask God for parking spaces.”

Seriously? Was Pete Greig – co-founder of the 24-7 Prayer Movement – really going to write about parking spaces? He was!

“It seems to me,” Greig went on, “that the answer is clear: Yes, we should indeed ask God to give us parking spots. Why? Because when we pray for places to park, we become the kind of people who worship God for a patch of concrete outside a supermarket on a rainy Saturday in January.”

Ahhhh. I loved that. I felt like Greig, a self-described “Scruffy Brit,” understood my motivation. In asking God for a parking place, it wasn’t that I felt entitled to one, or that I could “claim it” in prayer or whatever. Rather, my request was born more out of relationship, out of an understanding that every good gift–the big stuff and the small–is, as James said, “from above.”

I read on.

Living with “Greater Gratitude”

“When you pray about the small things in life,” Greig said, “you get to live with greater gratitude. If you only ever pray about big, ugly, gnarly problems that seem onerous and serious enough to warrant divine intervention, you will only very occasionally experience miracles. But when your learn to pray about trivia…you start to notice how many minor miracles are scattered around in the course of an average day.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

I mean, literally: I couldn’t. Every single chapter in Greig’s book features wiser, kinder, and more well-informed insights on prayer than anything I’ve ever written. I don’t even have to pray about putting this one in the stockings, this year. It’s such a better Christmas morning surprise than the posture brace. (Which, if you’re new to this blog, explains why Yours Truly really does need to pray about shopping. God had no part in choosing that particular gift.)

And honestly? You’re gonna want a copy of How to Pray for yourself. Because it’s that time of year, and when you come out of the store loaded down with a cart full turkey, potatoes, and Ocean Spray Cranberry Sauce in a Can, you’re either gonna want that sweet parking spot, or you’ll want the reminder to be grateful that you have a car in the first place.

Even if it is parked a half-mile away. 🙂

Heavenly Father,

Teach us how to pray, and to live with greater gratitude. May we rejoice always, pray continually, and give thanks in all circumstances. (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

Amen

P.S. I only recommend books that I really do love, and if you purchase via the link in this blog, I get a tiny credit from Amazon. Which I will most likely use to purchase more books about prayer.

Either that, or something for my kids that is better than this:

I am thankful for my refrigerator.

11.23.2018

So this year, when the time came to go around the Thanksgiving table and say something you’re grateful for (because #tradition), I had my answer ready.

I am thankful for my refrigerator.

At least, now I am. Like about 99% of the blessings in my life, I didn’t used to think much about the refrigerator. It certainly wasn’t something I thanked God for providing. I just…used it. And in return, it just stood there, keeping things cold.

Until one day it didn’t.

Robbie and I considered calling a repairman until a quick Google search revealed that the average fridge lasts 13 years. Not to seem unsentimental, but ours had been a good and faithful servant for 18, and we figured it was time to say, “Well done” and move on.

Which, as it turned out, was easier said than done. I’ll spare you the details (the staggering cost, the unlimited options, the fact that the new models don’t fit the old holes…), but the punchline is that we spent six weeks looking at this:

Six. Weeks.

Privileged Person’s Problem, I know. But as a result of our personal tragedy, two collateral blessings took place.

First, I lost a few pounds. We have a small refrigerator out in the garage where we’d transferred the essentials, but that’s not very close to the kitchen, and so whenever I got hungry and thought about going out for a yogurt or something, I would weigh the time and effort involved and think, “Meh. Not that hungry.” And after awhile, the yogurt expired, and I didn’t even think about going out there anymore.

The second blessing happened when the new fridge finally arrived. I found myself taken aback. Not by the internal water dispenser (although that was a major upgrade), but simply by how grateful I was. Seriously. I would literally look at the thing, tear up, and say, “Thank you, God.”

(And if you don’t believe me, ask Robbie. He’ll vouch–and tell you he thought I was slightly deranged.)

And it hit me. How come I wasn’t as grateful before? Why did it take not having a refrigerator to make me so glad when I did? Why don’t I count the ordinary, unremarkable blessings in life?

Why can’t I be more like Alexander Maclaren?

Maclaren was one of Great Britain’s most influential preachers, 100+ years ago. “Do not let the empty cup be your first teacher of the blessings you had when it was full,” he said (as if he’d actually foreseen my fridge deprivation), but rather, “Seek, as a plain duty, to cultivate a buoyant, joyous sense of the crowded kindnesses of God in your daily life.”

The crowded kindnesses of God.

(Maybe just take a moment to let that one penetrate your postprandial somnolence.)

(Which is what the doc at your Thanksgiving table might call your food coma.)

I decided, based on how happy I was about an appliance, that I should give thanks for more stuff. That I should actually do what the Bible says (“in everything give thanks”), instead of just being grateful when something really good happens (or when something really bad doesn’t). And so I started being more intentional about counting my blessings.

I thanked God, when Robbie and I climbed into bed, for giving me such an incredible husband. And then I realized how comfy our sheets are, and I thanked him for that. And for my pillow.

Anyhow. I hope it lasts. I’ve gone thru “gratitude seasons” before (like when we were newlyweds, and I decided that seeing Robbie’s undershirt on the floor should be a thanksgiving prompt–I have a husband! I have a washing machine!–rather than a bitterness root), but somehow my self-centeredness always elbows it’s way in, and I find something to grumble about, or at least something I wish that I had.

(Thicker hair, for example.)

But I don’t want to be an “I wish I had” person. I want to be a “God is so good!” person. I’m not sure I’ll ever fully get there, but honestly? The fridge is helping. It’s there, every morning, a silent reminder of God’s goodness in the everyday ordinary. Of his crowded kindnesses in our lives.

And when I get out the half-n-half (which I actually stopped using, back when it meant a trip to the garage), I can’t help but say, “Thank you.”

Heavenly Father,

Please help us. Help us to live lives–everyday lives–that are rooted and built up in Christ, strengthened in faith, and overflowing with thankfulness. (Colossians 2:6-7)*

Amen

* P.S. I just looked up that prayer prompt in The Message. Might have to print this one out and tape it (cuz I guess magnets don’t work anymore?) to the front of the fridge:

My counsel for you is simple and straightforward: Just go ahead with what you’ve been given. You received Christ Jesus, the Master; now live him. You’re deeply rooted in him. You’re well constructed upon him. You know your way around the faith. Now do what you’ve been taught. School’s out; quit studying the subject and start living it! And let your living spill over into thanksgiving.

Sauerkraut, soufflé, and the smells of Thanksgiving

11.16.2018

Thanksgiving is next week.

Shocker, I know. (I mean, we haven’t even finished our candy corn yet.)

But speaking of side dishes…

Robbie and I have been married for 33 years. It’s only been in the past decade, though, that he has fully enjoyed Thanksgiving with me. The first 20 years? They were sort of trial-and-error (more error) on the Turkey-Day front. But then, about 10 years ago, I produced my first perfect sauerkraut.

I know, I know. Who eats sauerkraut at Thanksgiving? Nobody normal, if you ask me. But we learned, back when Robbie and I did our pre-marriage counseling, that we’d have to “adjust our expectations” if we wanted our marriage to thrive. And so, even though I expected a house to smell like turkey on Thanksgiving Day (hello?), I adjusted. I started fixing things the way that Robbie’s mom did. Or trying to, anyway.

Which meant…sauerkraut.

And, like I said, it took 20 years. And more than a few apologies to my side of the family, who would come over on Thanksgiving, walk into our house, and do this:

And honestly? My mother-in-law is an amazing woman (and a fabulous cook), but nobody has ever asked me for her sauerkraut recipe.

Folks have, however, asked how I make carrot soufflé. And if you’re looking for an alternative to sweet potatoes, consider putting this one on the menu. In addition to being something the children will eat (it’s basically sugar, with a few carrots thrown in), the dish comes with two other big holiday plusses: 1. You can make it the day before, and 2. It doesn’t have any overpowering smell.

Here you go:

Want that recipe in a printable form? Click here.

And if you’re reading this and thinking to yourself, “Wait. What? Jodie’s not a food blogger…” you’re right. I only divulge about one recipe per year (and, some would say, even that is too much).

I do, however, love to share BIBLE VERSES. And if you’re looking for a quick and easy way to add the “bread of life” to your Thanksgiving table, I hear you. I want that, too. And so every year, I light a few candles, break out the real napkins, and add a serving of Scripture to every place:

If you like this idea and you want to download some ready-made Thanksgiving verses, click here. I must warn you, though. I always include a verse or two that’s designed to extend grace to the cook, and if you’re soufflé falls flat or you accidentally roast the turkey upside down (been there, done that), just point your guests toward Ephesians 5:4.

Here’s hoping your Thanksgiving is filled with laughter and joy, and a big helping of gratitude. As I count my blessings in 2018, Philippians 1:3 comes to mind. I really do pray for you–my real life and my digital friends–and as the Apostle Paul said: I thank my God every time I remember you.

Truly. ❤️

Can I Rest on You?

11.10.2017

So I finally looked at the calendar. Did you know Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away?

Yeah. You probably did. But I’m not quite there. In fact, I didn’t even think about the holiday until I ducked into T.J. Maxx a few days ago to see if they had any “Give Thanks” paper goods. I wanted some cocktail napkins for the buffet, and maybe some hand towels for the guest bath. Because nothing says “gratitude” quite like a printed paper towel.

Oh my.

T.J. Maxx is a holiday wonderland. But not for Thanksgiving. They’re all decked out for Christmas. I know their slogan says how they have “new merchandise arriving daily,” but honestly? I don’t think you could fit one more reindeer in there.

Not knowing what else to do, I flagged down a saleslady. “Do you have any Thanksgiving decor?”

She looked at me blankly, like maybe she’d never heard of the feast. Or like I wanted her kidney. Clearly, I was a couple months late.

I left with two little red Santas.

And then I sat in my car and wondered how I got so behind. Maybe it was all of that arduous Facebook training. Maybe I just over-blog. Or maybe I watch too much football (and if it’s U.Va., you stay for the whole game, regardless of the score, because #loyal). I don’t know. But whatever the reason, I figured the answer was clear.

I had to move faster in life.

No sooner had that thought formed in my brain than another one entered my head. And this one sounded a whole lot like God.

“Jodie,” he said, “You don’t need to move faster. You don’t need to move at all. You just need to trust me – and rest.”

Maybe it’s the fact that I was staring at two painted Santas, or maybe it was the Holy Spirit, but for whatever reason, I suddenly thought of my dad (who liked the Holy Spirit way more than he liked St. Nick, but his mom was a big Santa fan, and those things leave a mark). Either way, I remembered coming home one day, after Dad had been babysitting three-year-old Hillary.

“Granddaddy,” she had said, “Can I rest on you?”

He told me he wasn’t sure what she’d meant, but he said that that would be fine. And with that, my girl had climbed onto his lap, put her head on his chest, and fell sound asleep. It was something that all our kids did. And Dad loved it.

He loved it for the obvious reasons (and seriously, what’s better than having a little one do that?), but he loved it even more because he was a man who knew his Bible. And when Hillary fell asleep on his chest, Dad told me it reminded him of Deuteronomy 33:12.

Which (and I’m just putting this out there) I had to look up.

Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him,
for he shields him all day long,
and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.

“When God invites you to rest between his shoulders,” my father explained, “he is talking about resting on his chest.”

(Now, I have never seen that claim repeated in any Bible commentary, but when your dad tells you something is so, you believe it. And I did.)

And sitting there in the TJ Maxx parking lot, I knew God was right. I did not need to move faster; I needed to move different. It wasn’t like God was telling me to come to a full and complete stop (he invented Christmas, after all, and I’m pretty sure there are parts of the hype that he likes). Instead, I felt like God was inviting me to enter in to his presence in the midst of the mayhem, to spend time with him, to be refreshed.

To climb up on his chest and just put my head down.

And if you are beloved of the Lord (and you are), that’s his invitation to you too.

Which is something that some folks will welcome. Others (and don’t make me name names) will read that and stress out. “I can’t stop,” you will say. “I’m too busy. My in-laws are coming. And that cranberry chutney won’t make itself.”

I hear you.

I am you.

But let me encourage you with this one little thought: Matthew 6:8. Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

You guys, this is true. God really does know. And when we take time to listen, he always provides. Take, for example, my own situation.

There I was, napkin-less, with the biggest family holiday of the year looming in just under a fortnight (Michelle, that’s for you). And then I got a text from my friend Deb:

“We have napkins, half price, at the Lemon Cabana. I thought you might need them for your family.”

I will show you these napkins in just a sec. But what you need to know first is that U.Va. is – and I can’t type it without smiling – bowl eligible. I know all my SEC friends are like, “Yeah, yeah. What’s your point.” But you Wahoos out there…aren’t we grateful? And, knowing that Thanksgiving weekend brings the biggest game of them all – the game where, for the past more than one year we have gotten beaten by a team whose fans pull into the parking lot in RVs with names like The Rolling Turd – you will understand me when I say that God knew exactly which napkins I’d need. He knew I’d need more than “Give Thanks.”

Because I have two sons-in-law, plus their families, who are major Virginia Tech fans. And when we see them at Thanksgiving, and they help themselves to a drink, I don’t want them to simply be grateful. I want them to know it’s

#Wahoowa, y’all.

Immanuel: He is Our Peace

11.30.2016

So on Monday morning, after all of the Thanksgiving guests had left, I crept downstairs, eager to enjoy a cup of coffee in the predawn silence. We’d already decorated the Christmas tree (gotta do it when the kids are home)…

…and as heart-warming as it is to watch six people climb on your bookshelves and elbow each other out of the way while carols from Pandora’s “Country Christmas” drown out the announcer on the U.Va. basketball game, I was ready for some peace and quiet. I looked forward to turning on the tree lights, grabbing my Bible, and spending a few moments with God.

And then I heard…snoring.

It was loud. And it was coming from the family room. Had a late-night intruder gotten into our Baileys? Would I find a strange man on the sofa? Should I go back upstairs and wake Robbie?

I tiptoed through the kitchen and quickly turned on the lights:

Khaki.

The dog is not supposed to get on the sofa. I didn’t fully trust her arthritic legs or her tumor-filled belly to keep her down, so I’d put out a spread of books and magazines as a deterrent. To which Khaki said, “Nice try.”

I was not happy.

I didn’t like how the dog had treated my copy of Southern Lady, nor did I appreciate having to get out the lint brush. Again. Even more than these offenses, though, was the fact that Khaki had rearranged all my pillows. One of them wound up on the floor:

I stood there, listening to the dog drone and looking at my fallen PEACE, and I thought: This is it. This is what my life has become. I get the peace all set in my life, tucked in among the beautiful velvet and linen, and then something comes along to knock it off.

Maybe you can relate. Maybe you’re staring down the weeks between now and Christmas, wishing you could experience the whole “peace on earth, good will toward men” thing, but there’s a little niggle of anxiety, or maybe even fear, that is holding you back. Maybe it’s a decision you have to make, or a deadline you are facing. Maybe it’s a sickness, or a loss, or the sense that you don’t have what it takes to do whatever it is that you feel like you are supposed to do. Or maybe it’s something totally unfounded, but still sort of paralyzing, like the time I went shopping with my mother-in-law and we got half way to the mall when she was suddenly struck by a frightening thought: What if the stores are closed on Monday?

I don’t know about you, but there are times when I let worry – both about real concerns and and imagined ones – consume my attention. But that is the exact opposite of how God wants us to live. “Do not be anxious about anything,” he says, “but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

And when we do that – when we refuse to entertain anxiety and instead bring our requests straight to God – he offers this promise: “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7)

Sounds like a plan.

But, like so many good things in life, choosing to take our worries to God and trade them in for his peace is easy to say and hard to do. It takes practice. It might even take retraining our brains, so that our default position is not so much dwelling on doubt as it is on tacking our trust to God’s promises. It’s do-able, but we might need help.

Which is where Immanuel comes in. Of all the names God goes by, I think Immanuel might be my favorite. It’s not one we think about for most of the year, but when you start opening Christmas cards and listening to carols, it pops up. And, to me, Matthew 1:23 is one of the best lines in the whole Christmas story: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel (which means “God with us”).

If you’re feeling like your peace is on the floor this Christmas, and you aren’t really sure how to pick it up and get it settled into your life, invite Immanuel to come in and help. He is the order in our chaos, the stability in our insecurity, the anchor in our storm. He is “God with us.”

And, in that very name, he is our peace.

Celebrate Everything

11.23.2016

(Note: This post is the last in a four-part series on praying, trusting, and waiting. Please know, as we celebrate Thanksgiving, how grateful I am for you. May you and your families be satisfied with the goodness of God.)

I marked another birthday last month, and my friend Annabelle gave me a sign:

Annabelle’s always up for fun. I’m thinking she meant the message as a party prompt, like: “Let’s have cake because it’s Tuesday.” Which is not such a bad way to live.

To me, though, the sign felt like more than a sign. It felt like a Sign. As in, it brought me face to face with the question that’s dogged me throughout this entire blog series: Is there really such a thing as the “unbroken enjoyment” of waiting? Put another way, when we feel like God’s answers are long in coming (or when we aren’t sure we’re on board with what he seems to be allowing, and maybe it even hurts) do we still have good reason to celebrate?

The answer, I think, is yes.

I’m not quite there yet, but I know some folks who are. Folks like Katherine Wolf, a stunning beauty who was just 26 years old when she suffered a massive stroke that left her unable to speak, swallow, walk, or care for her infant son. As Katherine relearned how to live, she and her husband Jay were forced to reexamine everything they believed about God. Was he truly good? Had he made a mistake? And would they still be able to look at their lives and thank God for what he had given, for what he had allowed to be taken away, and for what he had allowed to remain?

If you’ve not yet read the Wolfs’ book, Hope Heals, treat yourself to an early Christmas present and buy it here. Or watch a trailer about their story here. I can’t begin to articulate how God led this precious couple through the gap between life’s expectations and its reality (and I would hate to even try, since they tell their tale with such raw and exquisite beauty), but I will tell you this: Katherine says that pain served as her teacher, bringing her closer to Christ in a way that went beyond anything she could have imagined. For that, she was unabashedly grateful. And Jay agrees: “The call to give thanks, not at the end, but in the midst, began to reverberate inside of us.”

Giving thanks in the midst. That’s where I want to be.

And that’s basically where Andrew Murray (whose book, Waiting on God, helped launch this blog series) winds up. We may think we are just waiting for the Lord to bless us (i.e., to meet our needs and grant our desires), but the way Murray sees it, God has a higher purpose in mind: We want the gifts, but “He, the Giver, longs to give us Himself and to satisfy the soul with His goodness.”

Heady stuff. And, for those who have not yet experienced that kind of satisfaction, potentially hard to accept.

And honestly? I might be tempted to think that this whole “satisfied with God” thing is reserved for extra-holy people (people like Katherine Wolf and Andrew Murray and a handful of other “varsity” Christians you sometimes read about) except for one thing. I spent much of 2016 interviewing parents for my upcoming book, Praying the Scriptures for Your Adult Children. These folks are “normal” Christians, people just like you and me. People who prayed for their kids, took them to church, and tried to do all the “right” things in the parenting books.

But life didn’t turn out like they expected. Instead of picket-fence perfect (or even picket-fence close), these parents found themselves praying for adult children struggling with everything from getting through college to getting a job…from finding a marriage partner to navigating their way through a divorce…from battling addictions and mental health issues to surviving health crises like Katherine Wolf did.

Would these folks say they were satisfied? Would they say they had a reason to “celebrate”?

Amazingly (and almost beyond belief), they would. While none of them would wish their stories on anyone, virtually all of them told me some version of the same thing: Their challenges forced them to take their eyes off of the outcomes, because the outcomes were not always there. But the yearning for something good – something that would satisfy their deepest longings – still was. And the more they pressed in, the more they realized that their desire was not for an outcome at all.

Their desire, for themselves and for their children, was simply for Jesus.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Maybe you’ll be cooking a turkey and looking out at your picket-fence yard, where your picket-fence husband (or wife!) is playing football with your picket-fence kids.

Or maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll be looking at things like loneliness, disappointment, broken relationships, and shattered dreams. Maybe you’ll be wondering where God is, or why he’s taking so long to show up. Maybe you’ll be wondering what you have to be thankful for, or what on earth you can celebrate.

If that’s you (and I’ve been there, so I get it), then can I just encourage you to take a step back and ask yourself the same question I’ve asked myself, time and again: Are you trusting in an outcome, or are you trusting in the Lord? Do you want what God gives, or do you want him? Are you willing to celebrate…not because you have hard stuff, but because God is with you in the midst of it?

God never said he would keep us from experiencing pain, or from having to walk through hard places. Instead, he said he would walk through them with us. And when we face the death of a dream or the loss of something precious, we can do so with thanksgiving, knowing that God is in control and that he has the power to resurrect whatever it is that we have had to relinquish, making it wonderful and new in his time.

Ephesians 3:20 says that God can do “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.” This year, as we celebrate Thanksgiving, let’s do so knowing that our Heavenly Father is at work and that, no matter what circumstances or relationships look like right now, we can trust him to do more than we ask. Let’s thank him because he loves us in our questions, he has gone before us in our pain, and he offers us the satisfying and immeasurable gift of his presence.

Let’s celebrate. In everything.

Give Thanks with a Grateful Heart

11.20.2014

How’s your heart?

That’s the question the minister asked on Sunday (we were visiting City Church in Charlottesville – loved it), and after talking about the “heart disease” that plagues us all (stuff like pride, envy, and lust), he said this: A healthy heart is a heart that is continually thankful.

As someone who is far more apt to find fault with what didn’t go “as planned” (like Tuesday’s blog, which appeared in your inbox without the accompanying photo—sorry about that) than she is likely to rejoice over any of the little things that go “right” each day, I found myself struck by his words. I am definitely not “continually thankful.” And with the Big Day just a week away, I realized I needed some help

Last Christmas, Annesley’s mother-in-law-to-be gave her an iPhone case that came with a built-in Taser. I know Ruth meant it for use against thugs and other ne’er-do-wells, but it wasn’t open for five minutes before my kids began trying it out on each other. And then on Hillary’s boyfriend, Charlie, who hadn’t been exposed to all that many of our family celebrations—and who, I might add, took it like a champ.

(Just another happy Christmas morning at the Berndt house.)

Thinking of that Taser, I found myself wishing that I could implant something in my brain that would go off like a shock whenever my mind started down a whiny, prideful, or otherwise negative path: I can’t believe Robbie left his undershirt on the bedroom floor again.

FZZZT!

(The idea, of course, is that after a few such gentle reminders, I’d start to be thankful for my husband—who actually did once tell me that I should be glad when I find his laundry on the floor, since it reminds me of him when he isn’t home. Love that guy.)

Anyhow, not having a mental Taser handy—and can we all just say, “Thanks be to God” for that—I decided to try the Bible, instead. A quick skim through the concordance reveals this about thankfulness:

It works like a VIP card to get you into God’s presence (Psalm 100:4).

It’s an attitude that encourages other people (Colossians 3:16).

It’s something that God wants us to be, regardless of our circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:18).

You know what? I am good with all of those verses, and more. But knowing it in my head and feeling it in my heart are often two very different things. And, try as I might, I can’t always get there from here.

Fortunately, though, God can. In Ezekiel 36, God promises us a “new heart” and a “new spirit.” He says he will “remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” Isn’t that a great picture? Our stony, critical, complaining hearts (well, mine anyway; yours might be in better shape) can be utterly transformed—and God can make us thankful.

I don’t know about you, but that fills me with a world of hope. Normally, I’d be bellying up to the table next week, staring at the centerpiece and wondering if maybe it could have used another gourd or two, and wondering why my turkey was so dry (again). But now, with my heart securely placed in God’s hands, I have a shot at counting my blessings instead.

(Which is definitely better than getting tased.)

(Especially by your own kids.)

Would You Rather Play a Family Game?

11.18.2014

“I would rather suck an old man’s toes.”

That’s what one of our daughters said, a few years back, when we suggested she attend a Christian summer camp. We’d done the research (James Dobson and other family gurus pointed to the value of the Christian camp experience—a theory that was backed up by reality when we polled our friends’ older kids about what had mattered most in terms of strengthening their own faith), and we were planning to send her, whether she wanted to go or not.

Better parents might have been appalled by our gal’s somewhat, um, graphic response, but we couldn’t help ourselves. Robbie and I burst out laughing.

And “Would You Rather…” became an instant classic in our family.

If you’ve never played this game, the idea is to come up with two choices and have the other player (or players) choose which one they would “rather” do, have, or be. You can buy the official board game at Target, but we liked making up our own scenarios. And last year, I put some of our favorites on a few sheets of cardstock and cut them up to make game cards to give as Christmas gifts. (I also sewed little envelopes for them out of burlap, using old buttons and twine as closures, but I am a little Amish that way, and if you’d “rather” put your cards into a plain envelope or a little bag from someplace like Michael’s, that works.)

Your questions can be important, silly, or—if you have teenaged boys or a husband like mine—even a little gross. And if you’re looking for a way to inject a little “God” into your family fun, you can throw in a random Bible question or two: “Would you rather be David going up against Goliath or Daniel heading into the lions’ den?”

Need some ideas? Here are a few favorites from our list, just to get you started:

Would you rather be considered slightly annoying or generally dull?

Would you rather be caught lip-synching on The Voice or taking steroids in the Olympics?

Would you rather have peace or joy?

Would you rather always spit when you talk or always be spat upon when people talk to you?

(See what a deep and intellectual family we are?)

And of course, the classic: Would you rather suck an old mans toes or have an old man suck your toes?

If you’re looking for a way to spice up (if not elevate) the conversation around the dinner table this Thanksgiving, why not try this game?

And while you’re at it, consider putting a gift certificate for summer camp under the tree for your kids, even if you think they’d rather suck an old man’s toes. Our family loves Young Life, Kanakuk, J.H. Ranch, and Focus on the Family’s Adventures in Fatherhood (which I hope Robbie will guest blog about one day soon!).

(And just in case you are wondering, I think I would rather have an old man suck my toes. But I would feel badly about it.)