Getting Offensive

Truth time everybody…

Try not to judge…

I spent seven years cheering on the sidelines of small-town Texas football…

ahem, this isn’t even the part I was warning you not to judge.

It was an exciting outlet to do what I love doing – encouraging, rallying enthusiasm, and celebrating people. I realized it’s not all out of me this weekend when I found myself leading a rally of 3 yr-olds around the slide on base, making up a little song I like to call, “Go Charlie Go!” to cheer the youngest addition to the playground club down the slide.

In those seven years of football Fridays, I learned enough to know when to cheer for offense and when to cheer for defense. I knew which direction my team was supposed to run and when. I usually knew when something good happened and something bad happened. Annnndddd.. that’s about it.

Ok, fine… judge. It’s ridiculous.

I didn’t know the plays. And, um, I don’t even really know exactly what a play is.

I just knew the defensive team were the protectors – they kept the ball from moving toward the opponent’s goal. That’s when I would start yelling something like, “Push ‘em back, push ‘em back….”

(As I’m writing this, I’m feeling increasingly more ridiculous… and also wishing I was going to a pep rally.)

And the offensive team were the guys with the ball in hand – running aggressively toward the goal. Cue: The fight song that may or may not still be on my iPod.

All of that to say, I have no idea why Jesus would think this is the time to start talking football talk with me. Maybe it has something to do with my new roommate, who chases the dogs around with big sticks, turns everything into a “moto” and is a boy through-and-through.

Lifa’s home.

It’s so so right to have him home.

To hear a squeaky, smiley, stretchy “Gooood Morrrrrning”. To sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy” and to hear him tell me “Jesus loves you so much Mama” in SiSwati. To watch him “shake it baby, shake it”. To have to turn down the music during car dance parties to make sure I heard correctly: yes, yes he was shouting, “BODY ROLL!”. To watch him play with his best buddy in Mbonisweni and then happily grab my hand when it’s time to go home because he knows that’s where he belongs.

It’s incredible the way God has made us family – with supernatural roots and love for each other.

It’s not all body rolls and good morning kisses, and I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster this week as I’ve watched him struggle in starting a new routine. We’ve started school, and he’s having to relearn something that’s never been taught well: consistency, structure, and that I’m going to come back for him. Family beyond the “weekend at Mom’s house” kind of party. Home.

The restlessness and nightmares have come back and he runs into bed crying, “MAMA” in the middle of the night. The fear of falling asleep and me not being there is resurfacing. And I feel like we’re in a spiritual arm wrestle.

I want to protect Lifa and my family.

I want to join the defensive team with the roar of a Mama Lion and say a lot more than “Push ‘em back…”

But God is saying more than that.

He’s telling me to trust bigger.

That the Kingdom is more than taking the defense.

It’s aggressively running toward the goal. Heaven on earth with everybody Home.

But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. (Matthew 6:33)

He’s telling me not to just bunker down in my cozy cottage and fight for sanctified naptimes and potty dances. He’s reminding me that Home can’t fit within four walls. And Lifa’s presence is a reminder of God’s faithfulness to His promises.

We have a promise, a deposit and everything within us to bring the Kingdom of heaven to earth.

Now it is God who makes both us and you stand firm in Christ. He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come. (2 Corinthians 1:21-23)

Lifa’s presence, and every loop and twirl of this emotional and spiritual roller-coaster, is a reminder that the Kingdom is coming, and we are designed to be hungry for Home.

Jesus died so we could have a promise of the Kingdom in us.

And told us to pray for His Kingdom to come.

“This, then, is how you should pray… your kingdom come, 
your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” Matthew 6:9-11

He’s our defender. Our fortress. Our protector. (Psalm 18)

He wants us to stand, to run and to speak for the offense. (John 21:15-22)

So, hand in hand with His Body and with Lifa, we will take the offense.

Instead of closing the curtains on the cottage, we’ll open them in faith.

Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes. (Isaiah 54:2)

The promise of His Family increasing and the completeness of family isn’t just about one little boy. That little boy is a promise of His Greatness and the plans He has for every child, starting with “the least of these.”

Pray with us. Believe with us. From the details to the big picture.

Let’s offend the enemy with our active engagement in spiritual warfare. He doesn’t get to live in us. We are citizens of Heaven.

Let’s actively expand our tents and make room for His Family. We all have a place there.

Let’s not sit back and talk about what not to do.

Let’s speak and act on His promises even before we see them.

We don’t need to know the plays. We need to know the promises.

Let’s believe in the God who was and is and is to come with every part of us.

And one more time, everybody…. Cue: Fight Song!

Love you