Know who you are.

One of the questions I ask all three of my girl's very frequently in this house is:

Whose are you?

To which at this point in this journey through the never-ending momma reflective questions, sometimes they will roll their little eyes in annoyance and say, "Jesus".

Typically this question is asked when they are teetering on the edge of disobedience through something. Whether it's smacking their sister upside her little blond head or trying to fool me about how much money I owe them, the moment the question is asked they tend to shape up.

It's an important question and one that I've had to ask myself lately. Because all to often I forget who I am serving, who I am listening for and who holds my life in their hands. I get busy with life and I tend to forget that my life is not my own. I think it's my own but it's not. When I surrendered to Christ, I gave Him my life and asked that He use me, mold me and make me the person He wanted me to be. So when I answer the question that I am a daughter of the most High, my life should reflect that.

This morning as I was reading my girls the first chapter of Luke to begin deeply discussing the Christmas story with them, there I saw once again a man that I can all to well identify with. Zechariah. He was a man who thought he knew who he was too, but unfortunately got caught up with his life too much.

Zechariah was an intense man of God. A priest, an upright man before God and lived his life blamelessly pure before the Father. He was a good guy. I'm sure he made mistakes and fell into sin at times but the bible describes him in such a way of excellence. When he is introduced in the first chapter of Luke, he is doing something very holy, very pure and something he did all the time...praying and worshiping at the temple.

When the Lord seemed to throw him a curve ball that day and had the angel Gabriel appear, Zechariah forgot for a moment who he was and whose he was. Fear and doubt took over and an incredibly harsh result was given. As this angel shared with him that his wife, Elizabeth who was past the age of barring children, would give birth to a son to be named, John. Zechariah didn't believe and he was therefore silenced by the angel until the time of the baby to be born.

Silenced. For nine months. Can you imagine?

I'm thinking for a certain three-year-old boo in this house that silence for nine months might not be such a bad thing. {wink} But for a man of God like Zechariah? Wow. That's a really big deal. I bet people thought he was crazy or had lost his mind.

But actually, the silence is a great lesson for you and I to gain at any point in our lives.

When doubt pops in....be silent.
When chaos strikes....be silent.
When fear grips our hands....be silent.
When anger boils up...be silent.
When frustration takes over...be silent.

There is a time to speak but I can feel very confident to say that it doesn't come until after a time of silence. Just look at the way things turned out for Zechariah. After his time of long silence his heart was filled with a beautiful song. A song filled with words like: Raised, Redeemed, Enable, Holiness, Righteousness, Peace and Guidance. {see Luke 1:67-79}

So when struggling to remember who I am and whose I am, may I reflectively remember this painful lesson of silence. And although it seems to go against every ounce of my fleshly needs to not speak, there is great wisdom gained through containing my tongue. And when the words flow out again they will be filled with things of God, not things of myself.

A great lesson in life to be learned through...silence.

Much love in Him,
Nicki

ps-come back Thursday for details for a giveaway, still trying to figure it all out. ;)