For Kith and Kingdom

t h e   h a r v e s t   o n   m y   l a p

The culture says you can’t do it (it’s too hard) and it’s not worth it (it won’t make a difference).  It appeals most effectively to our own selfishness: (send those kids to someone else to deal with; take care of yourself; get more me time).  Or  it nurtures our fears and falsely decries our ineligibility for the task…(you’re not qualified to parent/teach…a professional needs to do this for you).   Bosh.

I’m so thankful for those women who have the conviction to speak and live out the reality that home schooling our children is doable, that the lived-out-day-by-day gospel does have power and does make a difference, that more time for “me” is merely an utterly captivating invitation from Satan as enticing as his proposal to Christ to receive from Satan “all the kingdoms of the world”  without the ‘burden’ and ‘suffering’ of  the cross.  We aren’t really surprised at that  savvy ancient sales pitch, are we? All the blessings without the sacrifice?  All the harvest without the work?

 That’s always the temptation.  Glory–hold the cross–if you don’t mind, please.  In fact, I’ll order two or three of that kind.  But not for Christ.  He spoke meek syllables of warfare with the doubly-sharp sword of the Spirit Word and plodded on.   Easy was not the way Christ chose.  Christ did receive the glory, and the power, and the kingdoms, but not through abdication of His calling to be sacrificed, to bear the humiliation of the cross.  He endured insult and accusation even for the hurt He healed and the hunger He satisfied.  People smothered Him, surrounded Him, hardly respected His “me” space or time (sound familiar, moms?).  There were times of getting away and prayer, but not weekly visits to massage His body, His ego, His appetites.  He gave up Himself thoroughly, completely.  His schedule was highly affected.  His entire life.  Even his young death.  And probably his hair and nails and shopping habits as well.

Nurturing children in the fear of the Lord is a privilege, a calling, a ministry, the responsibility of Christian parents, and one for which God has and will fully equip parents.  We can sing and boast all day long about contrived, glamourous crosses we elect to erect for our own memorials (bible studies led, foreign mission trips…); the challenge is embracing the not-so-glamourous ones God has called us to carry for Him:  the commonplace, real, rugged, splintery, mundane crosses—the ones that our culture and our own selfishness and pride despise.  Among them, this one: parenting, teaching, laboring in our child-harvest with biblical deliberateness.

There are a million enticing opportunities in this world.  But there is a harvest right here on my lap, sucking her thumb and pulling at my hair and looking into my eyes with her near black ones, exchanging kisses with me, and now pulling the tape out of my desk drawer and wrapping it messily around her head.  Sisters, harvest with the workers in your Kinsman-Redeemer’s harvest as Ruth did.  He will see our  hands full, our aprons overflowing with His fruit.

The harvest is plenty; shall we surrender our responsibility and privilege of laboring for it?  And if we do, will those who take our place in training up the hearts and minds of our children do so to the glory of the Master?  And when the Master comes, will he say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant” when He reviews how we have invested what He entrusted to us?

These reflections follow observations and conversations my husband and I have shared over the last few weeks; and these articles below, sent to me by a friend this week, echo the same ache we feel as we pray for more laborers in a largely neglected harvest .