If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

I’ve had some trust issues. Many of us probably have or do, at least at one time or another. Sometimes trust issues look like not trusting others, sometimes it’s more about not trusting ourselves, and sometimes we just flat out don’t really trust God.

I’ve struggled with all three of those at one point or another. There have been times I’ve had to come face to face with how much or how little I trust God. 

I’ve realized that at times I’ve allowed circumstances to impact, more than I care to admit, how I feel about God, what I think about God, and how much I trust God.

All my “why”s and “what in the world”s have opened the door to my trust wavering a bit at times. Over the past several years my relationship with God has reflected whether I am focusing on my circumstances or on Him. My faith and my feelings have been all over the place.

I believe the foundation to trusting God is knowing who He is and who I am because of Him. Trust comes more easily when I fully grasp, or as fully as I can here in this fallen world, that God is sovereign and completely good…that He is all love towards me…that He will never leave me nor forsake me. Afterall, it’s not easy to trust someone you don’t know.

I’ve known God and I’ve lost sight of Him. I’ve recognized who I am in Christ and I’ve forgotten all about that person more times than I can comprehend. There have been seasons of leaning heavily into His arms for comfort and seasons of weeping in sorrow over difficult things and over the sins of myself and others

I’ve asked questions and waited with expectation for answers. I’ve demanded answers. I’ve begged for answers, for relief, for rest, for sleep, for help. I’ve despaired of ever getting answers. And sometimes, I’ve known His peace even in the unanswered questions and the weariness. 

I’ve felt His love and comfort just when I needed it and I’ve stomped my feet and yelled at Him for how hard life can be. I’ve laughed with joy at His blessings and I’ve cried on His shoulder millions of times. I’ve reveled in the beauty of a quiet morning spent with Him and I’ve begged for sleep in the stillness of the night.

I’ve worshipped with abandon in the kitchen and I’ve worshipped with tears in the car. I’ve placed my head on the pillow and felt peace descend and I’ve wailed into my pillow wondering when things will feel better. I’ve seen myself as never alone and completely alone. I’ve felt fearless and I’ve felt terrified.

I’ve sat silently waiting, wondering, wishing and I’ve sat sulking, pitying, and pouting. I’ve understood that He is holy and good and loving and I’ve questioned His kindness and plan. I’ve trusted His sovereignty and I’ve asked if He’s even looking at my life at all. I’ve trusted His love is relentless and unconditional, and I’ve wondered if He truly does love me. 

I’ve felt unworthy and unseen and I’ve heard Him say, “You are mine.”

I’ve seen myself as His precious child, His rebellious teen, and His dear daughter. I’ve seen myself as a warrior, a casualty, a medic, and a deserter.

I’ve seen God as my loving Father, my Savior, and my Security. I’ve lost sight of God and sought saving and security from other things and people. I’ve heard God speak words of life and love and peace over me. I’ve missed hearing Him speak and been filled with sorrow and fear.

I’ve justified myself, condemned myself, excused myself. I’ve fallen on my knees in repentance and felt His forgiveness and love wash over me.

For every wearying thing, I’ve known a worshipping thing. For every tear, I’ve been comforted in knowing He sees me. For every word uttered in frustration, I know He understands me and loves me still.

For every question, I’ve known the answer is Jesus.

Through all my tumultuousness, God remains steady and sure. He is undaunted in His love for me even when I’m flailing around in my chaos and questions. His faithfulness never wavers even while mine falters and fails consistently. 

I am dearly loved even when I’m anything but lovely. God is faithful even when I’m unfaithful. He is kind when I am wrestling. He is understanding as I waver around in my trust.

Even when circumstances are difficult and prayers aren’t answered as I’d hoped, God is trustworthy and good.

I know and believe that to be true.

Don’t Fence Me Out

I have fond memories of my dad singing little ditties as he went about his day. Most were a little tongue and cheek, and all made me laugh. One he often sang, I’m sure to my mom’s delight, was “Don’t Fence Me In”…

“Oh, give me land, lots of land
Under starry skies above
Don’t fence me in”

It came to mind as I was writing this morning about my two golden retrievers and some fences…although I think they are singing “Don’t Fence Me Out.”

I was unaware that golden retrievers are notorious diggers.

I know now. 

My backyard is a minefield of break-your-ankle holes that become mud pits when it rains. 

My oldest son came two weekends ago to help fence in the worst area so we could fill in holes, regrow grass, and possibly avoid the dust and mud that gets tracked into my home. 

It’s completely enclosed with no entry point, except somehow, my dogs keep getting into it when I’m not looking. Never when I stand there and watch to see what they are doing, they won’t even go near it when I stand in it and invite them in. It’s like they don’t want me to know their secret and, for the life of me, I can’t figure it out. I’m debating throwing some treats in there and seeing if they will give up their secret entrance. I’m baffled. And I’m disappointed in myself that my golden retrievers (who aren’t the brightest bulbs in the bunch) have gotten one over on me. 

This morning I was throwing the ball for Gunner, our ball-retrieving machine. Several times the ball bounced into the enclosed area. He stood outside it, panting, pawing the fence, and jumping back as if electrified. I’m not buying it. 

The fourth time I went to retrieve the ball (who is the retriever in this scenario again?), I thought, surely there’s a spiritual application to this, right? I don’t have it yet. I’m thinking. Waiting for the epiphany. 

I always seem to be waiting for something…directions, epiphanies, mechanics, repairmen, children to finish activities, phone calls, appointments, kids to carry laundry upstairs, the grass to grow in my little enclosed space…

Sometimes it seems that waiting is the theme of my life. Surprisingly, I’m finding myself okay with it. Well, at least right this minute. I might not be tomorrow. Probably not. I know that there is a season for everything, a time ordained by God, there is a plan…not my plan, but there is one nonetheless.

The other day I attempted to try to move something in a different direction, and God shut the door… not a slam, but definitely a closing. It wasn’t completely shocking, but I found myself blinking, stepping back a bit, and rethinking things yet again.

I can be like Gunner and Trapper, though. I can search for the way into the place I shouldn’t be just because it looks like that’s where I should be, and I’m pretty sure I’ll like it there. 

I had such a strong epiphany that as much as I want to be just where God wants me, I keep trying to manipulate my life into something different. I’ve said I like to be in control before…probably a million times…but I think I haven’t understood until recently how very much I try to manipulate things into being the way I want them to be. Like my dumb dogs, I am determined to get where I want to be, with or without permission, through fences or blockades. I will make this happen. 

The thing is, I’m absolutely certain that His way is better than mine, but I cannot deny that, at times, I really struggle to let Him be in control. It feels like I’m in a physical tug-of-war with Him. I can’t seem to let go of my grip and let Him handle things… at least not completely. I hold on with a pinky’s worth of strength, imagining that I’ve got things handled…it’s silly, really. I need to unclench my sweaty little palms and hold them open for what God has for me. 

I’m a little like Jacob wrestling God in his fear and loneliness. (Golly, I hope I don’t wrestle until my hip is broken. Enough is broken in my life without that too!) I will wrestle with Him over the timing and the way things happen. I think sometimes I just want something to happen. Let’s get this party started. This nothing changing thing is for the birds. Sometimes I can almost believe something is better than nothing, but life has made it abundantly clear that that is absolutely not true. Something is sometimes nothing I want to happen, and sitting still and trusting God would have been a much better option. 

Like my pooches, I can forget that what I have is great. They have a big beautiful yard, and they want to sneak into the little enclosed space full of holes. I wish I weren’t like them. I wish I could see the blessings right where I am and trust God to lead me where He wants me.

Sometimes I wish there was an actual fence blocking my way to places I shouldn’t go or places that just aren’t the best for me. I have decisions to make, and I really and truly struggle to discern God’s will for me and mine. Do I step out in faith and do plan A? Or do I step out in faith and do plan B? I cannot think back over the past ever so many years when one was more obviously right than the other. I always have to step out in faith and pray that the wisdom God promises me is indeed at work within me. 

Ultimately, I believe God is more than able to get me where He wants me to be regardless of me. I just need to keep my eyes on Him. Look for what He is doing around me and join Him. Pray with the expectation that God is going to answer. Trust Him that He will lead me. Pay attention. Listen. Be still. 

I need to stop trying to get somewhere. I’m where God wants me to be for this moment. And until He clearly shows me to take the next step in any particular direction, I’m staying here. I will resist the urge to get into that fenced-off area and dig holes…because I’m done digging holes that I eventually trip in. 

I want to walk with Jesus and trust Him even when I long for something other than what He has given me. I want to trust that His way is best. He wants me to follow Him. He isn’t playing hide and seek with me. He says He will lead me, so I must trust He will. 

Okay, that’s not where I thought this blog would go…at all. But, you know, I’m pretty sure I need to be reminded that waiting means I don’t sneak into places I shouldn’t be and that I trust God has prepared a place and plan for me that is just what I need. Maybe He isn’t opening up something because the grass still needs to grow there, and the holes must be filled before I go so I don’t fall in them. Or maybe things in me need to grow stronger and be filled.  

My heart is a little like my backyard mud pit. It has some patches that need to be healed and some areas that need to grow stronger so they can trust and love well. I’m happy to stay where the Lord has placed me…well, maybe not always happy, but I’ll choose to trust Him and wait for the next step to be revealed or the fence to come down.

Fletcher, R. & Porter, C. (1934) “Don’t fence me in”.

Audacious Love

My phone was dinging with texts the other night from one of my dear ones who was dealing with some disappointment. I was writing essay-like texts to encourage and love on my sweet child. 

At one point, I texted “Life isn’t about what we get to have or do or even who we get to be.” And then I typed the words, “Life is about…” and I stopped, put my phone down on my lap, and stared ahead wondering what to write.

And then I prayed…

Lord, what is life really about? I mean, really?

I thought the words would flow because surely I know what life is about…I’m half a century old-ish. Surely I know something, but I wasn’t sure for a minute. I mean, I know that Jesus is my life, that I want to live my life to glorify God…but, those weren’t the words I wanted to use in that moment. 

And then, like a sweet wave of peace pouring over me, I realized what I wanted to write…

Life is about loving God and loving others and even loving ourselves! 

It’s difficult for me to even type phrases like “loving ourselves” – it goes against everything in me to believe I’m supposed to love me…after all, isn’t that rather selfish and self-centered and self-righteous and all those other self words I don’t want used to describe me? 

But God…(I love that phrase) God has been showing me my lovableness for days and days, and months, and years. I’ve been woefully slow learning this love thing because I’ve looked to others to show me my worth rather than the One who loves me best.

It’s much easier for me to love others than to love myself, but can I truly love others well if I don’t love who I am in Christ? I think sometimes I love others well in hopes that they will love me well in return. For too long, I’ve sought to be loved by being loving. But if I don’t find myself lovable then I love others from a place of need rather than plenty. 

Love doesn’t overflow from me unless I understand how loved I am by God. When I do that, I can love who I am because of Whose I am, and I can love others out of that abundance.

The reason I have any true, real, and honest love to share is because I’ve accepted the perfect love of my Savior. 

The other day I wrote about climbing into the lap of Jesus, of hearing his heartbeat, and being at peace. And then, this morning I read John 13:23-25, “One of them, the disciple whom Jesus loved, was reclining next to him…Leaning back against Jesus, he asked him…?”

Not unfamiliar verses but today I was impacted so deeply in a huge, heart altering way. John, the writer, is talking about himself. He is the disciple whom Jesus loved. How stunningly wonderful that he refers to himself that way. There is a beautiful audacity to it. He knows he is loved, no doubt in his mind. He doesn’t just accept it as fact, which it is, but he embraces it and revels in it!  He leans into it as he leans into His Savior. He is not ashamed to say it out loud. To declare the truth of it to all the world. Oh how I want to live like that. To speak that truth over myself and others. 

John invaded Jesus’ space. He is physically leaning on Him. In one version, it says, “leaning back on Jesus’ breast.”  He’s not just near Him, John is on Him. There is a sweet intimacy to it. 

John must have looked into Jesus’ eyes and known the depth of the love felt. As they walked and served together, he knew he was loved. And, God had John share so we would know it too. God wants us to know that we are deeply, completely, unrelentingly, unconditionally loved. He invites us to lean in and hear the beat of His heart for us. To lean further into Him to ask our questions, seek our rest and solace, and feel completely and utterly undone by His love. 

He calls me “Daughter, whom I love” and assures me that there is no other love that can compare to His. In His love, there is peace and hope and joy. From that place of being loved, I will be able to love others even better.

So, yes, I do believe that our life is about love. Both the big “L” Love and the little “L” love.  The “God is love” Love and the “love one another as you love yourself” love. 

No Drowning Allowed

Photo by Matthias Cooper on Pexels.com

I don’t know if you ever played this silly game when you were young, but my friends and I thought it was hysterical to pretend we were drowning. Usually in the shallow end. We would jump up above the water, put one finger up, take an exaggerated gulp of air, and dramatically go under. Then we’d do it again with two fingers up. On the third jump, with three fingers in the air, we’d holler something dumb like, “Good bye cruel world!” and pretend to drown. I’m sure the lifeguards loved us. 

Sometimes as a single parent, I feel like I’m living in that game. In the past, I’ve had an idealized view of things. I was going to get really good at this single working mom thing. I was going to hold myself and five beautiful children above water with all my strength and wisdom. I was going to be an extraordinary spiritual leader and amazing single mom. I quickly found out that holding it all together without going under was more challenging than I could have imagined. Single parenting has felt like a near-drowning experience for many years. Unfortunately, this doesn’t really get easier…it’s not like you get “better” at drowning. 

Or maybe you do…

Because God is gracious and I’ve learned some things…when to shut my mouth so I don’t gulp water, when to close my eyes and give things to God, when to kick hard and push through the obstacles, when to flip and change direction, when to spit in my goggles and clear my vision, when to take a breath, and when to rest on the side for a bit.

I pulled out my most recent journal to remind myself of the ways I’ve seen God working in my life and the lives of my children. To see how I’ve grown. To consider the places where drowning seemed imminent, but I didn’t. Where God opened a lane I hadn’t expected and I was able to move forward without obstacles. I feel like most of the time I’m swimming in a lane set up like an obstacle course. Swim a little. Take a breath. Face an obstacle. Almost drown. Flip turn. Swim a little. Take a breath. Dolphin dive under. Hold breath longer than expected. Race for a breath. Kick to the side. Rest.

But while I was looking at the journal, instantly my thoughts went to, ‘You might have learned things, but boy have you failed at a lot.” Why does my brain go there so easily? Those thoughts push me under like a bully of  regret and sadness. I know that I have not failed at everything or even most things. I’m still swimming after all…even if occasionally it’s more like a dead man’s float rather than a strong freestyle stroke.. and definitely not a beautiful butterfly stroke. 

It’s easy to get discouraged and want to climb out of the pool, just for a minute. Just to de-prune and dry off a bit. To no longer be working so hard to stay afloat. But Jesus, He doesn’t ever get out of the pool. He stays right there with me and, if I’d let Him, He’d let me and all my children climb on His back and rest or even just grab hold of His arm and float effortlessly for a bit. I feel like more often than not, I’m frantically doggy paddling and saying, “I’m good. I got this!” while also gradually sinking lower and lower. Oh how I wish I didn’t think sometimes I needed to handle everything on my own. 

I’m like a toddler trying to take off her floaties and swim in the deep end. Determined to do my own thing all the while putting myself in more danger. I will move unawares or even blissfully into the deep water away from my Lifeguard until my exhaustion and fear overwhelm me and I search desperately for Him.  Thankfully, God doesn’t throw His hands up and swim away. God doesn’t leave me or forsake me even when I leave and forsake Him. He might let me go my own way for a bit until I get smart enough to run back into His arms like the prodigal daughter I can be, but He never leaves me. 

How grateful I am. 

I hope I’m not taking this swimming and drowning analogy too far, but all of a sudden it made sense to me. How easy it is to be like Peter and take my eyes off my Savior and go under… nearly drown. Or to ignore His warnings, smile, and backstroke away from Him. I’m ever so grateful that Jesus is always right there. Right beside me. And the moment I turn my eyes back to Him, immediately He grabs hold of me, pulls me close, and keeps me above water. 

No matter what, Jesus always always always saves me. No matter my unfaithfulness. No matter my willfulness. No matter my failures. No matter my mistakes. No matter my rebellion. No matter my circumstances. No matter my brokenness. No matter my intentions. No matter what. 

I think maybe I’ve figured out how to do this without going under for the third time…I’m still gulping a bit of water, splashing, and occasionally calling for help…but I haven’t put up three fingers yet. I’m pretty positive I won’t ever because I have a Lifeguard prepared to grab hold of me any and every time I need Him.

When You Just Want to Hide the Hard

This past weekend I planted 7 large bushes. Digging the holes ‘bout killed me. I was determined to get through all the roots, rocks, and clay. I jumped on that shovel like my life depended on it. Wrestled those shrubs out of their buckets and into my hard-fought holes. Filled back in the edges with dirt and made it look relatively pretty.

Sometimes I can live life in the same way. Digging through those dang roots in hopes I can plant something beautiful. 

But its just really hard (life and planting bushes) and honestly I’m pretty tired and even a bit embarrassed by how hard.

Sometimes I want to hide parts of my life…not lay bear the burdens because of how ridiculous it all is. (I was going to say seems but I need to own it…it IS ridiculous.) So much feels like failure…I should get it together already. As if I could stop failing transmissions, water leaking through ceilings, scary health issues, or people I love making choices I wish they wouldn’t. If I share it all people will probably think I’m pathetic. After all, I kind of do.

“But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.” Psalm 13:5

So I’m holding and hiding things.

I believe I’m wrong about holding all this…maybe I should say jumping on my shovel to get through things without letting anyone know how desperately difficult it is sometimes. I might share some, but not all…because that’s just insanity.

Heavy things don’t get lighter the longer we carry them…they get heavier. Even if I don’t decide to lay them down, at some point I’m going to drop them…whether its in utter defeat or in surrender to God is up to me.

I know I’m supposed to lay things down…before God and for others.

Letting go of my perceived control and humbling myself sure is hard though. I think, “God allowed this in my life. I must need to carry it, deal with, handle it, overcome it, push through it, make it work.” And all in my own strength (thank you very much).

“But you, LORD, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me.”  Psalm 22:19

I know that in all this hard there is hope. God has a plan. But it feels like I’ve messed things up too much. That I’ve dug too many holes in the wrong places too many times. I can look back at innumerable decisions and wish I’d taken the other option because then maybe, just maybe, things would have been different…less hard, less hurt, less heartbreak. 

Last night, my daughter and I talked about regret. We both have regrets. Her regrets are just beginning. Mine have been building and strengthening over time. Sometimes the weight of them steals my breath and threatens to throw me into a hole bigger than the ones I dug in the backyard.. 

Regret is useless. That’s what I told her. Nothing good comes of it. What is done, is done. God still love us. He forgives the mistakes, even the willfully in-your-face mistakes that break His heart and ours too. It’s still hard. The if only’s and what if’s are devastating if we mull them over too often or at all. 

“You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. LORD my God, I will praise you forever.  Psalm 30:11-12

Recently while sitting  on my bed preparing for the next day, I had the joy of listening to one of my daughters sing praise songs in the shower…this same girl who wept tears of regret and sorrow the night before. Maybe that’s why the leak in the kitchen ceiling happened. It made me shut down the girls’ shower and ask everyone to use mine until I figured things out. Because of that, I heard worship from one of my dear ones who needs desperately to know the Father’s love and peace. To accept forgiveness for herself. 

Don’t we all?  Desperately need the Father’s love and peace. I do. Sometimes the hard and heartbreaking makes me question how much He loves me…if He loves me truly. 

Sometimes I just feel so very really and truly broken. Do I work anymore? Does my heart work? Can broken hopes be restored? Do broken homes ever stop being broken? Does He care about houses with broken bits? Or broken cars that inconveniently stop moving?  What do you do with all the broken? I don’t know. It can feel like I’m buried under the broken pieces. The question stumbles around in my brain, “Does God really love this broken me?”

“We wait in hope for the LORD: he is our help and our shield. In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name. May your unfailing love be with us, LORD, even as we put our hope in you.” Psalm 33:20-22

Do I have an answer to that question? I do, but do I believe it? 

Do I trust even when everything feels broken? Even when things are heavy, hard, and hurtful? Even when one thing after another begins to feel like too much? Do I believe that I can entrust it all to Him? Will He really help…I mean not just give me peace in the midst of the struggle (a great thing to be sure), but practical and real help? 

“The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:17-18

I’ve always loved the psalmists who are so willing to lay bear their heartbreaks, disappointments, questions, fears, and anger. 

God isn’t disappointed, dismayed, or frustrated by our feelings. He just wants us to lay them down. In the laying down, God fills up.  

Love. Joy. Peace… ours to have if we give the struggle to God.

“Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.”  Psalm 55:22

There is no broken God can’t fix. No hope He can’t bring back. No hurt He can’t heal. No plan He can’t make perfect. No mess He can’t redeem.  No shaking He can’t still. No peace He can’t restore. No broken bits He can’t rebuild.

All He needs from me is trust. Nothing more. 

Doesn’t that just seem so simple? And yet so incredibly impossible too? Sometimes trust seems a huge thing to ask, especially when things can’t seem to go as planned or even remotely hoped for. 

But God…do I believe His plan is perfect? His way is right? That He loves me? Yes. Yes. Yes. 

So girl, what’s the deal?  

Life. Life is the deal. 

All those roots and rocks and things that make the digging hard. All the burdens that wrench my back like huge bushes wrestled into holes…

I don’t have to deal with them alone. Truly, I don’t.

Laying all of it down before God…handing the hard to the Heavenly. It works…if I do it. I know me…I’ll need to do it again and again and again.

And, I’ll need to share with others. Let them know the depth of the struggle so they can see God work in my life too. So I can comfort with the comfort I’ve been given. So the beauty – and there will be beauty – can be shared.

Give God the shovel, the hole, the roots. the rocks, and the bush. Let Him make it all beautiful…because He will.

“And provide for those who grieve in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.” Isaiah 61:3

Be Who You Already Are

I was sharing with a dear friend some hard things that were happening and she texted me this, “God will provide abundantly and be your Bridegroom. He is King. Be His beloved.”

Gentle but powerful words that went straight to my heart. 

In those words I heard, “Be who you already are.” 

I am Beloved.

I will call those who were not my people, ‘My people’, and her who was not beloved, “Beloved“. Romans 9:25

The past few years have been filled with me facing the lies I’ve believed about myself. It’s awfully easy to rehearse falsehoods about myself based on what others have done or said to me. Even lies I believe about myself that have unknown origins but run deeply through me.

Sometimes they seem so firmly ingrained in who I am and how I think I wonder if I’ll ever be free. That is another lie. It’s time to start calling these thoughts what they are…lies. One of my friends would say, “Lies from the pit of hell.” Yup. I believe that is correct.

If I believe the lies that I’m unworthy of love, that I’ll never be enough, that I’m a failure, that God can’t do in my life what I hope He does because I’m not good enough, that I will never get my life in order, I’m denying the power of God in my life. I’m ignoring the value placed on me at the Cross. I’m actually devaluing Christ by saying that what He did for me wasn’t enough to make me enough. 

Well, when you put it that way…yikes. 

I looked up the word beloved and it’s definition is filled with all the words I want said about me…and the beautiful thing is God DOES say them about me and you!

Dearest, Precious, Treasured, Cherished, Valued, Dearly Loved, Special, Darling, Loved Very Much.

I think my favorite is “loved thoroughly” because it reminds me of how God knows me intimately, at my core, better than I know myself, AND He still loves me relentlessly, unconditionally, without ceasing, perfectly. *sigh* 

Thank you, Lord. 

Without the love of Christ, true love is impossible. The world’s definition of love is really rather flimsy and fleeting. I want the strong and steady love of Christ.

If we know that we are beloved and loved by our Father – cherished, treasured, valued, dearly loved – then we can rest, trust, and believe that He will take care of us and we can live unafraid. 

Perfect love casts out fear. 1 John 4:18

Breath in deeply the knowledge that you are loved…there is nothing to fear…

Nothing at all can separate you from the Father’s love…nothing can take away your belovedness.

  • Anything you can think of that you’ve done or said or didn’t do or didn’t say cannot change His love.
  • Something done to you or said about you cannot make you less lovable to Him.
  • What you think about yourself or what others think, makes no difference to Him and how much He loves you.
  • All those things that make you feel like a failure, they don’t impact His love at all. He is not disappointed in you.
  • He knew your past before it even happened and it didn’t change the fact that He loves you and died for you.
  • What you are going through right now, He is with you, loving you through it.
  • What you are afraid about in the future, His love is already there waiting for you to arrive.
  • Nothing you do or say or think can change the Father’s love for you…it is unconditionally relentless.
  • You are loved as you are…not as you think He wants you to be.
  • Nothing you do surprises Him. Nothing you think shocks Him. Nothing you say distresses Him. His love is firmly fixed on you.
  • He knows you completely to your core (better than you know yourself) and He does not condemn you at all. His love is yours period.

You, Beloved, were bought with a price…you were and are valuable enough to be redeemed by the death of Jesus. You are more precious than you can comprehend. 

The past is redeemed, the present is protected, and the future is prepared. 

No past experience, sin, or pain is too much for Jesus to overcome. 

No present circumstance, crisis, or concern is too much for the Holy Spirit to handle. 

The future is secure in the Father’s hands.

Close your eyes for a moment and ponder His love. Whisper thanksgiving, “Lord, thank you that you say I am precious, honored in Your sight and You love me” (Isaiah 43:4).

Believe with your heart that you are beloved because you are – God declares it with His word and with His actions.

So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Colossians 3:12

Hopefully

Advent – Hope

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

How simply beautiful is the phrase “God of hope”. The God who breathes life, speaks creation, and loves unceasingly, intensely, completely, faithfully, and without hesitation is our hope…the Source and the Giver.

I wonder if I even truly grasp the depth of hope’s meaning. I live like hope is just for better days, easier living, peaceful sleep, less stress, and true happiness.

I’m pretty confident that hope is a lot more than simply my circumstances being better or getting better or just ceasing to be difficult. I believe it’s a perspective, a focus on Him, an expectation that Jesus will fill me with all that I need. 

To be filled with joy and peace sounds heavenly, but in order for that to happen I must trust in Him.  

Deep, abiding trust doesn’t come easy for me…at least not anymore. Life has messed with me a bit on that front. But again, my focus seems to be more on my circumstances than on Jesus. Circumstances are sometimes deceivers.

Regardless of what I feel or experience, I need to trust in Him. Lean on Him. Let Him handle it all. Let go of my life and let Him have it. When I say, “I need to trust Him” it’s like me saying “I need to breathe.” It is imperative to my life…to living. It isn’t just some activity or practice that will show my devotion to God or my tremendously awesome Christian walk, it is what I need to live and love and be blessed.

I want to trust God radically. 

I typed radically and thought, “Hmmm…is that the right word?” It didn’t seem to be until I looked up the definition. By radically, I mean “in a thorough or fundamental way; completely”. 

I want to be like Mary who said yes to God even when faced with a daunting call that could have led to the end of her hope to be a wife, estrangement from her family, and even her death. This young girl didn’t shy away from the life God gave her, she answered simply, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled” (Luke 1:38 NIV).

Carrying a baby out of wedlock in that time period should have assured her that she would lose her betrothal to Joseph, her parents would most likely disown her, she would be ostracized by her town, and very likely killed for committing adultery. That is what Mary said yes to…all those potential outcomes. And yet, she trusted God when it seemed like a crazy, dangerous, and scary thing to ask of her.

She didn’t ask for time to think about it. She didn’t run to seek counsel. She didn’t recognize the potential difficulties and ask for things to be a little bit different. She went full board into the fray and accepted God’s calling for her. 

I like to think of myself as a problem-solver…or a potential problem-solver. I have ideas and plans. I desperately want to make things better, easier, and happier. Very rarely, if ever, do I truly solve anything. I wish I would learn to release my grip on things and hand it over to the Lord. Trust Him enough to let go. This morning I had the epiphany that I can talk with God about trust. 

“Lord, what do you want me to do today to show that I trust you? What step can I take today to strengthen my walk of trusting You rather than myself?” 

That verse says that the result of trusting Him is joy and peace and hope. If I do that life will no longer be my doing, my failing, my frustrations, or my plans…it will be trusting God and resting in the knowledge that He can handle it and definitely is a better problem-solver than me.

There will be joy if I can get it through my thick skull that God only ever and always does the very best thing, makes the very best plans, leads on the very best paths, opens the very best doors, and brings the very best into my life. If my perspective could change to be more like Mary’s…” I have heard what you have said. I want it to happen to me just like that” (EEB) there will be joy in my life

Releasing my grip on my life…all of it…even the things I think and feel and want and hope for…and letting God take it. And keep it. Do what He will with it…that is trust. 

Woman, just trust, please!

I want to overflow with hope – not just have it, but have it spill out of me. Imagine what a blessing to those around me…particularly my children. 

The Holy Spirit will enable my willing heart to overflow with hope and my life to be filled with joy and peace. 

He will give me hope because He has given me Himself and He is my hope. 

In my head, I have absolutely no doubt that God is completely trustworthy. But sometimes I live like He isn’t. I have this ridiculous continuous habit of attempting to handle it all, take care of things, make things better, and, maybe, also believing if I don’t do it then no one else will, including God. 

And just look where that has gotten me… stressed out, confused, frustrated, emotional, and a little hopeless at times.

Letting God take control of things, listening to Him, seeking His divine intervention rather than my disastrous attempts to fix things, and believing that no matter what I can follow Him and trust that He is able and willing and loving and kind.

Like Mary, I want to humbly release control of my future to God and trust His calling no matter the path it takes.

Advent, a Little Doubt, and A Lot of Prayer

It is there staring me down… the questioning look of doubt on the faces of some of my children. They wonder if God really loves them. It makes sense. I understand. And yet, I long for them to know that He does. He loves them so much. But when they look at their circumstances, it is really easy to go there…to assume that God is withholding rather than holding. 

Holding like a father holds his precious newborn baby…ready to do anything to protect, defend, provide, and love. Pure love. That is God, all the time. 

No withholding.

Hard to understand in seasons of “No” and “Not yet.” Hard to grasp when all you seem to be asking is, “Why?” and “When?” and “How?” I get it. I often find myself there, but I have years of seeing God work out the seemingly pointless, awful, and sad things of life into beauty. Beauty from ashes. But when all you see is ashes of what life is supposed to be like… at least what you think it should be like…what it seems like in other people’s worlds … it’s easy to wonder if God even loves you.

Telling, texting, stating, messaging, singing, writing, begging, and pleading with my children to know that God loves them is not as effective as I’d hoped. I so want them to know Him the way I do. To know that even in the doubts, He is there. Even when the answer seems to be a repetitive no and it feels like something (anything) needs to go your way just once, He is there. And by He is there, I mean He hasn’t left, He hasn’t forsaken, He hasn’t forgotten, He hasn’t stopped loving. 

How do you convince someone of that fact…that God loves them? 

I have been pondering this for a long while now…and the other day, I realized for the umpteenth millionth time that God’s love isn’t determined by my circumstances or my feelings; God’s love is a sure thing regardless of anything else. God has already shown His love to me when He willingly gave up so much to be my Savior. It almost sounds trite to just write one sentence like that to describe how much God loves me. Loves my children. Loves us. 

It is easy to forget the whole process of incarnation…the denying deity, helpless babe in a womb, cared for by and dependant upon His own creation, misunderstood, denied, harassed, ignored, criticized, and ultimately beaten, bruised, and murdered for me. Completely cut off from the source of all goodness and love and peace and joy…for me. For us. 

Jesus gets how it feels to feel unloved…truly.

Sometimes I forget about Jesus being the baby, toddler, child, teenager, young adult…that whole living life down here instead of in perfection. He who knew perfection chose imperfection…and we who only know imperfection long for perfection. Assume that imperfection means God doesn’t love us. Means God doesn’t care, isn’t listening, isn’t answering, isn’t here at all.

This season of Advent, preparing for Christmas, is always filled with so much emotion. First of all, I always (and I mean always) have such grand plans for Advent readings and prayers. And I always (and I mean always) fail to make it happen consistently, if at all. This year is not different, but I have been thinking and praying and talking with some of my children. Not collectively, one on one at times. About what it means to trust God, to know that He loves us, to believe. 

My youngest daughter asked me the other night, “What if we are all insane?” She was talking about faith. I said, “I have had those thoughts too. But, I will tell you, I know Him. I know He is real. He loves me. He has walked with me through so much. I have known peace where it just didn’t make sense and joy when misery was the only reasonable option.” 

And at that moment and many others since, I knew that there isn’t anything I can say, text, or do to change my children’s hearts or minds. I’ve been looking for a way when the only way is God.

He didn’t need me to do anything to save me. He doesn’t need me to do anything to save my children. 

Life-changing. Difficult to live, but life-changing. I like to make things happen, be in control, and make a difference. But in this instance, it isn’t about me…actually, in many instances, it isn’t about me. Maybe most. It’s about Him and what He is doing.

Months ago, when I was going through a rather difficult time, God brought me to Isaiah 43. One passage of many that stood out to me is this: 

Do not be afraid, for I am with you; I will bring your children from the east and gather you from the west. I will say to the north, “Give them up!” and to the south, “Do not hold them back.” Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth – everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made. Isaiah 43: 5-7

There is nothing in that passage about God sending me on a great mission to go get my children and bring them to Him. He gathers them, brings them, calls them. My job…trust that He will do His.

All your children will be taught by the LORD, and great will be their peace. Isaiah 54:13

I have the responsibility of being willing to listen, share what I believe and why, share His Word, and discuss and debate and ponder together. To have Him be a part of our family as much as any one of us is. Be real and honest and willing to share and talk. Trust that God loves my children even when they don’t feel that He does. Believe for them. Pray for them. 

Love the Lord your God will all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates. Deuteronomy 6:5-9

Sometimes I forget the power of prayer…or I doubt it…or discount it as a true thing to do to help my children. Maybe I struggle to believe that God will answer…no maybe about it, I do. Sometimes I imagine that there is something else I need to do to deserve Him listening and responding in a way that makes sense to my kids and me. Often lately, He hasn’t. And after that happens enough times, it certainly is easy to think there must be something wrong with me because He is God, and He is perfect. 

The reality is… He is perfect, and I am not. And that means that the way things happen is for the best regardless of what I think. I am sure this season of “nos” is preparing my children for something profoundly better. I pray they get that surety too. That they believe He loves them beyond measure, relentlessly, completely, unwaveringly, without hesitation. 

Oh, that I truly grasped that myself. This Christmas season, I want to focus on what it really means that Jesus came down here. Not just that He did, but all that He endured from conception to crucifixion from incarnation to resurrection.

Because maybe in grasping truly what He went through for us, we, as a family, can grasp how our lives fit into a grander plan. How enduring difficulties doesn’t reveal a lack of love from God but rather reflects God’s love. He loves us enough to allow hardship for holiness, and pain for a purpose, and seasons of seeming silence for bountiful blessings beyond. 

The answer to those doubtful looks is to turn our eyes to the One who is the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2). The One who knows us by name (Isaiah 43:1), who has engraved us on the palm of His hands (Isaiah 49:16), who has called us His own and promises to be with us no matter where life takes us (Isaiah 43:1-2), who hems us in behind and before (Psalm 139:5), who considers us precious and honored in His sight and who loves us (Isaiah 43: 4). 

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:2

“As Is”

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I once heard someone say that God takes us “as is”.

Recently I was looking to replace my oven and I visited the ReStore to see if I could find a used one. The only one I found said “As-Is” and I immediately thought, “Nope.”  I have enough trouble with brand-new appliances, I’m certainly not going to purchase an “as-is” used one.

It is super easy to assume that an as-is anything is going to be greatly flawed, likely to break-down, and maybe even prove a useless purchase. Goodness knows, I’ve bought enough things at yard sales, thrift stores, and consignment shops to know the risks.

So when I heard that God takes me “as is,” I thought, “Isn’t that a bit risky?”

After all, I know all my malfunctioning parts. I know that I’m low on energy production and can tend to fizzle and spark when worked too hard. Sometimes I work quite well, other times not so much.  Oh my goodness! I’m my dishwasher.

Thankfully I love a God who takes risks, because if He didn’t there would be no way I’d get to be called His child!

I remember the moment I read Romans 5:6 for the first time…I don’t mean it was the first time I read it, but as my AP Literature students would say,  it was the first time I “read-read” it. (That means that you actually read it, you didn’t just say you read it when you actually skimmed it.)

“You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.” Romans 5:6

And I remember underlining “at just the right time” with my blue pen. What a God way to do things. Not a moment too soon, not a moment too late. Just the right time. Love it.

Then I see two things about me that I can absolutely confirm…powerless and ungodly. That was me before Jesus…and when I don’t keep my focus on Him that’s how I can still sometimes feel.

What I love about that little gem of a verse is a beautiful reminder that at my worst, God still chose me. At my worst, Jesus still loved me enough to die for me. To DIE for me. Sometimes that just hits me like a ton of bricks.

Jesus took me as-is and made me His.

He didn’t get me inspected, require me to show him how well I worked, test out my skills, require a warranty agreement, have me sign a contract of promises. He didn’t ask me to do one little thing before He died for me.

He deemed me worth it before I even knew Him…before I loved him. And my worth? My worth is because He loves me.

“The Lord your God has chosen you to be a people for his treasured possession, out of all the peoples who are on the face of the earth. It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the Lord set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples, but it is because the Lord loves you and is keeping the oath that  he swore to your fathers.” Deuteronomy 7:6-8

Amazing. The Lord set his love on us and chose us because He loves us. It’s a bit nutty. He loves us because He loves us. Which kind of makes sense because He is love, but still I love you because I love you seems a weird thing to say…but it’s true. God loves me because He made me to love…He just loves me.

It’s like how I feel about my children. I love them because they are. I love them because I was made to love them.

God loves me because I’m His child…He wasn’t made to love me, I was made to be loved by Him.  

Loved As Is.

Me and all my stuff…my storage unit of stuff.

Believe me, I am not a bargain. No end to my issues, fears, anxious thinking, and bad habits. I’m no longer bright and shiny, if I ever was, and I’m rather temperamental especially when exhausted and weary.

And yet God shows up and says, “She’s the one I want! Wrap her up! I’m taking her home!”

Wrap me up in Christ’s righteousness and make me your own, Lord!

I’m so glad it isn’t about me. (How funny that there are so many times in life I want things to be about me and this time, not so much!) It isn’t about being worthy of love…it is simply about being loved.

Simply about being His child…chosen, loved, precious..as is.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!  1 John 3:1a

Waiting with Peaceful Expectation

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I’m a picture person.  A visual learner. I understand things better if I can get a picture of it in my head. Today God gave me quite a profound picture.

I was reading Matthew 4:18-22.  It’s the passage where Jesus invites Peter and Andrew to join Him.  The whole scene played out so vividly in my head. It says, “As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee”.  Peter and Andrew weren’t out in a boat. They were standing in the water, quietly waiting and watching for fish to swim by so they could throw out their nets to catch them.

And I thought about that picture.  These two men standing quietly watching.

I don’t often stand still.  I’m very rarely blessed with quiet. And who has time to watch and wait for something in this world?

Well, I was struck profoundly that maybe those are things I should start doing.

At first, I was thinking about the fish. Each fish caught would certainly be considered a blessing.  Peter and Andrew surely had an attitude of expectation and hope.  Their time, at that moment, was spent looking for the blessings.

Maybe I’m stretching this a bit…but this is what God impressed upon me this morning.  

There are blessings to be had…moments to be blessed…moments to stand still and acknowledge the blessings.

Too often I find myself rushing, racing, running, and rattling off my list of to-dos like there is no tomorrow. What about taking  a moment and standing still, breathing deeply, and thanking God. Watching for what He’s doing!

If you were to have a visual picture of me to juxtapose with Peter and Andrew…I’d be the frantic woman down the beach a bit, tossing my net willy-nilly into the water. Creating splashes and extra waves in my frenzied attempt to capture blessings that I think I need immediately. I’d be knee deep in the water splattered with sand and mud, damp all the way through. One pant leg slightly rolled up. One unraveled around my ankle, floating around me with each wave.  My hair would be half in a ponytail, half blowing over my eyes causing my efforts to be even more harried and ineffective (if that were possible). My net would be flying through the air in crazy arcs, landing in the water with a splash, crumpled and twisted. See, I tend to go at things with a gusto that is often not well thought-out. I race into possible solutions because I want to fix things. I try too hard…my intentions are all great, but my execution is often flawed.

What I realized this morning is sometimes its okay to relax and pursue solutions with calm and quiet.  To trust that God will handle things, provide the solutions, provision, and blessings in the perfect time.  I just need to be watching and waiting, prepared and ready to act when He shows me it is time.

I also noticed that Peter and Andrew were fishing together.  They had fellowship, companionship, and a common focus. How beautiful is that!  I love relationship. God has provided that for me and I’m grateful. Sometimes I forget that I wasn’t meant to be a lone survivor…that God has provided others to walk through this life with me.

It’s important that I stand peacefully beside them and they beside me as we expectantly wait to see what God provides.  

And God does provide.  Not only blessings, but Jesus.

How amazing that as they stood quietly watching for the blessing of fish in a net, the Savior of the world calmly walked up to them and said, “Come, follow me.”  

I’ve always been shocked at their response, “At once they left their nets and followed him.”  Wait, what?! Really? No questions. No discussions. No “let me get my stuff together. “ No “let us store these nets for later so no one takes them”.  No “and who are you exactly?” Nothing, just following. Crazy.

What was it about this moment that resulted in that response?  What was it about these men and that Man? How remarkable! I can only imagine that Jesus, being God, knew they were ready and willing.  That they were available. Men of courage, conviction, and commitment. Men willing to leave it all behind and follow Him.

Was it that they had learned to look for blessings?  Was it their attitude of waiting and watching expectantly that made them more available for their Savior to radically change their lives?  Was it Jesus just working supernaturally in the way only He can to soften their hearts to His calling?

Yes.  

Yes all those things…at least I think so.

God had prepared these men to be disciples and apostles of Jesus.  He had given them time to learn perseverance, patience, and peacefulness even as they battled storms, endured long waits for full nets, dealt with disappointingly small catches, enjoyed the bounty of boats overflowing, carefully repaired torn nets and dented boats, spent long nights at sea, celebrated beautiful sunrises, enjoyed the companionship and dealt with the irritation of working with others.

The day in and day out struggles and successes of our days are the places we learn and grow into the people God created us to be.

It is super easy for me to see my overwhelmingly busy days as just crazy chaos that distracts me from what I really want to be doing…the things I think are most important.

But, what if everything is important?  What if all the moments of the day are set into motion by my sovereign Lord and Savior to mold me into the woman God wants me to be?

What if the minutes of minutiae in a day are really minutes of meaning?  What if it is less about big defining things, and more about little details in the defining of me.  Defining of my character, my attitude, my perspective, my hopes and dreams and expectations?

What if the things I do everyday that might seem inconsequential, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, irritatingly repetitive, and just a tad (or a lot) boring, are the things that will make me who I am, who I am meant to be…  

The standing knee deep in the water, watching quietly for a school of fish to swim by so I can carefully and strategically throw out my net…maybe these moments are much more important than I thought.

Because the result is recognized blessings…is moments where I’m watching for God to provide and I grab that provision and thank Him for it.  And then, the beautiful then, is that I’m more than ever ready to follow Jesus. To go where he has called me…whether its another day of the mundane or a day full of magnificence.

But whatever He calls me too, I’m ready.  As Andrew Murray says, I expect great things from God.  

He is a great God after all!

So the visual now is not me casting my net in crazy contortions of desperation.  It’s me, quietly and expectantly waiting for God to show me His blessings…to be acutely aware that He is working and providing and blessing.  And because I am peacefully watching, He most certainly will be calling and leading.

I might not be able to stand still for very long, but I can certainly slow down a bit.  Slow down and watch what God is doing…expect Him to do things. Expect Him to show up.  Just like Jesus did.

And I pray that I will always choose to follow Him.

Let’s drop our nets and follow Him today!