Knolltop Farm Wife

Welcome to my blog! I'm a wife, mother of four and a self-employed freelance writer. I live on a dairy farm with my family and I enjoy sharing our life with family, friends and anyone else who wants to visit the farm. There's no telling what the I will write about from day to day, but hopefully you'll be enriched when you stop by! Have a wonderfully blessed day!

Saturday, May 17, 2014

How much noise do you make?

At a spring band concert at our small high school gymnasium I held my camera trying to video the last concert of my daughter's high school career.  Probably her final concert ever. It was her senior night and I wanted to capture the entire event.

Jake and Sarah
I sat in the bleachers with my parents as we listened and I try to hold the camera steady. I couldn't help but be distracted by the children in front of us. They were about 9 or 10 years old and were very active and very loud. They crawled under the chairs, over the chairs, pulled each other's hair, cried to their parents and as their parents made a poor attempt at keeping them settled, these three kids paid no attention, they just kept squirming and giggling. 

I was disgusted at the parents lack of respect to not only the students performing but also for the parents surrounding them.  If they had any clue at all they would keep their children quiet or take them out.  Why couldn't they keep their children in line? Why didn't they do something. The louder they got the more irritated I became.  For the sake of all of us, take your children by the hand and lead them out of the gym and discipline them!

And then I felt a nudge from my Daddy.

No, not the dad that was sitting next to me, my heavenly Dad. He unveiled my eyes to see just exactly what I do to Him on a daily basis.  I run around. I crawl under convictions. I make noise so I don't have to pay attention to Him. I don't focus on to the spectacular concert in front of me, but I only pay attention to my own thoughts that I want to entertain. I feel him try to guide me but some days I rip my hand from His and do my own rebellious things.

Why doesn't He do something? Why doesn't He keep me in line? Why doesn't He take my hand and lead me out to discipline me?

Because He knows me. He knows my bent, He knows how I learn best and He loves me enough to let me fail, fall and then pick me up in His arms and love me back to life again. It's H
is love that lets me fall and His grace that stoops down to sweep up my brokenness. When He shows up to shower His grace and mercy on me He also knows everyone around me will also see it.

Who wouldn't want to love this God? Who wouldn't want to please this Dad? Who wouldn't want to obey Him? It's His love that found me and His grace that keeps me coming back. But it's His blood on the cross that keeps my name in His Book of Life.