Love, Life and Loss

Photo by Aung Soe Min on Unsplash

I finished the novel on Sunday afternoon.

It was good. 

It is over 48 hours later and I am still thinking about it. 

I didn’t see the plot twist coming until it hit me as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. The author did his job. I am an “all in” reader and I was invested in these characters. I am sure my husband would’ve read between the lines, realized what the true conflict was, and predicted the ending - but I did not. 

Relating to the author’s description of the couple’s romance and love, I was rooting for their separation to result in reconciliation and the book to end in that “happily ever after.” However, that author, that really good author, had other ideas . . .  

What novel is this you ask? I don’t want to spoil it for anyone who may pick it up - or for whomever might find it on Netflix or at the local Redbox when they watch the movie version. So, I will not share the title, but it has really made me think and feel and pray . . . 

As a result, I need to write to process these thoughts and feelings and prayers.

The main character spends a great deal of the book “flashing back” in correspondence to his wife. Their relationship from the start was rare and epic, a kind of fantasy, fairy-tale, what every girl grows up longing for. Through his messages to her, I liked her and found myself rooting for her, for him and for them - the identity of the two of them together. 

In the last two chapters, the main character reveals that his wife had died nearly four years before the action of the book even began. For four years he was still just as in love and as dedicated to her has he had ever been. For these four years he had existed by simply putting one foot in front of the other and doing whatever the day in front of him required. As he did so, he continued to buy her flowers, spend time by her side and share his life with her as much as he could. 

There were things left unsaid when she had died. He had regret and carried shame. He felt responsible and longed for forgiveness he felt he didn’t deserve. 

In the middle of this inner turmoil the reader doesn't realize he is in, he meets someone new. Actually, they are thrown together in an impossible, life-and-death situation. They face insurmountable odds and bond through their hardships. He tells her of his wife and when he does, he speaks of her in the present tense - as if she is waiting at home for his return. This new woman in his life trusts that he is married and is envious of this amazing love he shares with his wife. In all ways he stays true to his wife and still sees himself very much married to her. 

In the end, he shares with this new woman the truth about the circumstances that made him a widower. In the end, he is able to love both of them . . . his love for his first love never faded but made him able to love this new lady, but in a different, equally amazing way. In the end, the new woman doesn’t take the place of the dead wife but in respect to her, is able to help him heal. 

As I think about these fictional people, I am well aware that they are very much just that - fictional. There was a lot about the story that could be considered contrived or too coincidental to be true - However, these three individuals were incredibly relatable to me, but I didn’t realize why until this morning. 

My sister-in-law and I have been messaging over Facebook - you know on the “private” Messenger part. I had seen a video posted and thought of her. Not wanting to publicly “tag” her in it, I sent it through Messenger. She responded with a couple of links to articles that reverberated the same ideas. As I read them, I realized that the novel I have just finished is in many ways her life. 

She was not involved in a life-and-death battle for her physical ability to breath, but she has been through the trauma of trying to will her heart to keep beating after the sudden death of my brother-in-law, her daughter’s daddy, the love of her life, her husband - James. 

In complete honesty, she has communicated to me that she has not and will never “move on.” James is still very much a part of her everyday and, because of the love he had for her and she still has for him - this will always be her reality. She will always be his widow. 

This is true but not in spite of her new husband. It isn’t at his expense. He knows he will never replace James and has not tried to do so. Actually, he is pretty remarkable. Somehow he knows that she is able to love him the way she does because of her continued devotion to James. He has lost a wife too and together they can keep their memories of their spouses very much still alive. 

Some people may not get that. They may criticize her or him or them, but if that is the case, then I wonder what exactly those judges actually understand about love and loss and life. 

Through James’ life, the life of my grandmother, the life of my mother-in-law and others, I have received and given love. My understanding of love has grown even in and through their deaths. They have not, nor will they ever be replaced. However,  in their absence I am able to give and receive love from others and from God, Himself. 

He understands my hurt and my pain. He loves me in and through it all. 

His grace has allowed me to put one foot in front of the other and has exponentially grown my my faith through my losses. His resurrection is my hope and His Word promises that what is yet to be is better than what has been. I may not understand that, but I know it’s true. 

This morning my devotion was about how the pain of this life pales in comparison to the eternal glory that is to come. Paul, when he wrote these words, was not belittling the pain of this life, but rather encouraging  the believer with the truth that what comes next is richer, is far better and for them to strive to have an eternal perspective on today’s hurt. 

The love that follows loss of life is so multifaceted and rich. Honestly, I believe it is God-sized and God-given. It shows us more of Him and His character and His love for us. It enables us to love others deeper and live with greater appreciation for His good gifts. 

The novel I finished Sunday was not a “Christian” fiction book. I thought I was reading a suspenseful  survival story. Yet, God spoke to me loud and clear about how He defines love - It is bigger than the love of a spouse. It is greater than the limits that we put on it. It is honestly deeper than our comprehension. 

And this is how He feels toward us . . . 

Still There?

It's been a long time since I've posted.

It's not that I haven't wanted to post or that I didn't have anything to say.

If I had posted it would have been forced or done out of some self-imposed obligation. I never wanted that to be the purpose behind this blog or why I write.

My unintentional hiatus has been filled with both the busiest and that laziest of days.

"May-cember" was jammed filled with 4 recitals, 2 academic awards ceremonies, 2 weddings, a few rehearsals and my niece's high school graduation. Parties were attended and gifts were given. My planner was filled with what was happening when and list upon list of things to remember and to do.

The month ended with a much needed family vacation to Destin, a place we have retreated to before. It felt like home. With toes in the sand and sun soaking my skin, I rested and worshipped. I was in awe of my smallness beside the Gulf and of my God's greatness, faithfulness and power.

I had taken my computer to the condo so I could blog in the early mornings before we hit the sand and surf or in the late nights after the laughter from the game night had subsided into the sweet sounds of my family sleeping. Inspiration was there, but the words to type never came.

We returned home to a much slower pace and I found myself delighted with the time to paint my nails, read a fiction book for fun and start the process of prepping my bedroom for a procrastinated painting project. Even with Vacation Bible School responsibilities, and lessons God was pressing on my heart - I just did not have the words to write.

Then last night, after some good food and good fellowship with some good friends, I came home and I could not, not write. I had to sort out all my thoughts and feelings despite the lateness of the hour. When my head finally hit the pillow, the damn had broken and I hope to post quite a bit more in the next few days.

Just as busy as May was and as slow as June has unfolded, I am reminded that like the waves at the beach there should be an ebb and flow to my days.

As Ecclesiastes says, there is a time for everything. There are days that should be productive where the checklist is completed and sleep comes with the satisfaction that progress was made. Then there are days that should only produce rest and that night sleep still can come because of faith that God is God over all the things I didn't do that day. He is glorified in both.

There may be seasons of routine, structure and productivity, but there is great benefit for those times to be interrupted. Physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually there is profit for those days where we break from routine, from structure and we find a new definition of productivity.

Despite my plans and how I define my days - God like the constant, never-ending rhythm of the waves lapping the shore. He is faithful, providing countless graces to meet needs I never thank Him for. He is findable as I pray and search His Word, He is there. He is unfathomable in His immense greatness especially combined with His intimate involvement in my life.

I may not be as disciplined in my blogging and writing as I would like. But, it isn't about me. He is the constant. He is the routine and the structure that produces His definition of productivity in and through me.

I haven't failed by not posting in so long. Rather, I pray that in my silence on this site I have been obedient to Him. I hereby give myself permission NOT to live up to my own expectations of myself and this blog. I hereby give it back to Him.

(Just so you know, I know that I will have to give it back to Him again and again.)

Sanctification and NKOTB

Last night was a blast. Honestly, it was the most fun I have had in a long time and it came at the perfect time. May is crazy, busy with so much to do and to keep up with. The break was needed - dinner with a good friend, the drive to Nashville and a concert full of memories -old ones and new ones meshing together to make it a night we would not soon forget.

Appropriately named "The Mixed Tape Tour" filled Bridgestone Arena with thousands of my peers. We came in droves from all over the mid-state to relive our tweens and teens with the best boy band ever - New Kids on the Block and their guests - Tiffany, Debbie Gibson, Salt n Peppa, and Naughty by Nature.

They gave a great show with high energy and loud acoustics. The start time was about the same time most of the crowd would usually be winding down after we've put our kids to bed and tidied up the dinner dishes.  Personally, I head to the shower about that time to begin to unwind- but last night we were just getting started. Honestly,  I was so into the music and the show, I didn't find myself starting to yawn until my friend and I emerged from the arena into the cool, spring night, air.

On the way back to Clarksville, we shared our impressions of the evening and kept telling the other that it had been "so very fun." Honestly we were at exit 40 on 24 before the ringing in our ears started to subside and were no longer having to shout at the other to be heard. The process it took our ears to adjust was just the first of several reminders that we aren't as young as we like to think we are. As the miles slipped by, we talked about how some of the stars had aged REALLY well and some of the others - not so much!

From our seats we could watch the "Boys," now most definitely men - all in their mid to late 40s, dance and sing looking very much like they did when we first saw them in tour over 30 years ago. Their dance moves were spot on, resembling a cardio workout that would overwhelm the both of us.

BUT, when the camera would zoom in for a close up shot, it was clear that they weren't the same guys I first saw in concert at Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati. The Reds no longer play in that stadium because it no longer exists and hasn't for many, many baseball seasons.

Guys do age more gracefully, and while I would love to boast of Debbie's curves, she and Tiffany both seemed to dress the part of the teen idols they had been 30 years ago. Maybe that was intentional? Not dressing "their age" to try to allow all of us in the audience to time travel at least in our minds to when we were all wearing those hem lines and hairstyles?

Songs and lyrics that I had not thought of or heard in years, maybe decades, flooded back to the tip of my tongue when the first few notes blasted into the arena. Suddenly all the strangers around me were like friends as we were united by the music of our youth.

The tunes weren't just those of the featured bands. Other music from the same time frame was played and the thousands in attendance sang in one accord. Even if the musical genre was different from the boy band sound, we all still knew the words and tunes. The evening was truly like singing along with a favorite mixtape from our middle school years.

Even one of the singers, Donnie Wahlburg to be exact, questioned aloud into the mic, "How do you follow that?!" when the entire audience had sung in unison and in tune one of the songs of another band. Honestly, it reminded me of a worship experience when the leader bows away from the microphone and the congregation continues to sing the chorus without his voice in the forefront.

There were other echos of spiritual things - to see that many people gathered behind and unified in song gave me glimpses of heaven, what it will be like to worship the only One truly worthy of worship. The fact we are creatures created to worship could not have been disputed in how the crowd erupted when "The Boys in the Band" took the stage.

Yet, for me, there was something a little more personal to take away from the night's experiences. I was reminded that I was no longer 13 or 14 and I am okay with that. I may have a cardiologist and an orthopedist among my growing list of health providers that end in "-ist." But all I need to do is look in the mirror to know that I am not physically the same.

I would like to think that I have aged pretty well on the outside, but I also know and thank God that I have aged on the inside too. A lot has happened to and around me in the last 30 years that God has actively used to shape and mold me. His Word tells me that He will finish the work He began in me and, because of that promise, I trust that I look a lot more like Jesus now than I did way back then.

Some of the lyrics we sang last night were a little more racy than I remember. Maybe then I was just naive and didn't really know, or want to know, what I was singing. However, now, that ignorance is gone and I can't deny that I completely know what all the lyrics are insinuating - or outright saying. I found a "mom voice" asking inside my head, "How would you feel if your daughter was singing this song around the house?" At the very least, I know for sure she and I would have a long conversation about a thing or two.

It's good to look back. It's good to see how far we've come. It's good to remember good times. It is good to reflect on God's good grace, how He has provided and been faithful.

Last night was good for all of those reasons too.

Does anyone know when the tour is coming back to Nashville? As my childhood fave, Joey McIntyre, pointed out, Mick Jagger is still performing in his 70s so we should still have another 30 or so years to hear "The Right Stuff." I guess we will just have to take it "Step by Step" and be "Hanging Tough" while we wait. My friend and I are already committed to each other to go next time!

Unexpected Grace

Here is my "Unexpected Grace." 

Normally, like 9.5 times out of 10, I enter and exit our house through the garage. In all our comings and goings, it feels like I do that at least 20 times a day. So it is not unusual for me to go a few days without actually taking the few steps off our small porch and down the brick pathway to the driveway.

It is usual for me however, to see Wally off out the front door and to swing the front door open to allow sunlight to fill the entry through the closed storm door. This afternoon, as I did so, I noticed something on the front walk right in front of the steps.

Small and white and thin, I had to take a closer look.

In my amazement I realized it was a petunia. Somehow, someway, the small but sturdy flower had grown up between the bricks.

I had not planted it there. I have not yet bought my petunias from Lowe's. Every spring, around Mother's Day, I purchase the small plants already blooming to fill my porch pots and put a few around the geraniums that I buy too. I want to have the green thumb and the patience to plant my flowers from seeds, but I can't seem to control those little boogers very well, so I opt to exert my control over my flowers where and how I can.

 But . . . this little guy seemed to come out of nowhere.

I called for my oldest daughter to come see. She obeyed, but failed to understand what I was so excited about. When Wally came home, he walked right passed it, probably narrowly missing it with his man feet, and humored me when I drug him back outside to show him the unlikely bloom. My middle daughter noticed it right away and seemed to connect with my awe from where the tiny flower had originated, but didn't really appreciate how this little annual was acting all perennial.

I shared with my good friend Ms. Maxine about this little flower when she called with a work related question. I told her I couldn't figure out where the petunia had come from and how it had managed to thrive in such an unlikely place. Without hesitation, she said, "Well, by God's grace - that's how."

Instantly, I knew she was right. As I pondered the grace of God that would grow an unexpected flower in an unexpected place, I realized that in a way, His grace was extending far beyond growing a plant to create a little excitement in my Monday. He was revealing so much more to me.

In both my home and work lives, May is a crazy, busy month, rivaling December with all its responsibilities and obligations. Recitals, award ceremonies, field days, a birthday, staff evaluations, parent involved programs, teacher appreciation gifts . . . There is a lot going on.

It is easy to become quickly overwhelmed and extremely weary less than a full week into the month. When do I have time to connect with God? How can I fill my cup with Him - especially when I know that I need Him the most?

That little flower today was like God showing me that He is in the middle of all the crazy. He can be found. In the simplicity of a flower, if I open my eyes to appreciate that He has not left me but more than that - He has deliberately shown me that if I have eyes to see and a spirit to appreciate - He is still revealing Himself to me. He is more than meeting my needs. He is answering my prayers and is continually revealing Himself to me.

His Word tells me that I will find Him when I seek Him. He is faithful to allow me to find Him. Wasn't this the lesson I had tried to teach the teens in Sunday morning Bible study only yesterday? Today, I found Him in a petunia growing between the bricks of my front walk.

I want to contemplate this small, amazing grace and appreciate what God has done.

I want my eyes to see where He is working, and I don't want to be too busy that I miss it or worse yet step on it in my ignorance.

I want to value these moments of grace, but I know that has to start with recognizing them as they come.

I may not be in control. I may not know how everything is going to come together. But, God is in control and He knows how to develop beauty around and in me that I cannot begin to fathom.

God, these next few weeks are insanely busy. I know that I will only be able to appreciate these big moments and take care of all that needs to be done with the help of Your hand. Thank You for the small petunia with all it's deeper demonstration of grace. I sure didn't deserve it, yet You are extremely faithful to answer my requests of You to show me more of You. Thank You for the assurance that just as You grew a small flower between the bricks, You will continue to meet my needs for my growth too.  .  . even in this particular busy and unlikely season, You are most definitely still at work above and below the surface.

Better-Than-Disney Ending

If you're a fan of animation, particularly of the Disney genre, you will know my approximate age when I tell you that I remember going to see the Disney Renaissance movies in theaters for their original releases. After a couple of decades of poorly reviewed films, the animation department released hit after hit: The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King, Aladdin.

I loved the adventure described in each plot, but it was the romance that kept me coming back for more and made me a fan for life. Still loving these movies, you can find me curled up on the couch with or without my daughters, munching on popcorn and engrossed in these films I have seen dozens of times. I can literally recite many of them, line-by-line from memory.

My favorite fiction books, sitcoms, dramas, movies - whatever mode of being told a story - all have one great thing in common. They all end the way that they are supposed to end. Yes, many if not most of the time the endings are incredibly predictable. The iconic phrase "Happily Ever After" may even scroll across the screen or be typed at end of the final page.

This idea of how things are supposed to be, the ending we all long for is actually a grace given to us by our Creator. We are supposed to look around at our world, at our lives and come to the same conclusion - things are NOT the way that they should be. This longing for justice and happy endings and everything to be neatly tied with a bow, is an internal compulsion that forces us to seek answers and to work to make things better.

It is in this seeking for answers and working for better that I have found purpose and meaning to my life and to all the crazy that is within it. As I walk with Jesus and grow in my relationship with Him, through His Word and prayer and His work inside of me, I have found the answers I need and the source of all that is good.

Don't get me wrong - my life is not easy, but it is easier than some, and often there are more why's in my prayers than thank you's, but I trust the One with the answers. The more I learn and know of Him, the more faith I have in His power and His ability to redeem the failures in my life and make sense of the chaos around me.

There are relationships in my life that are not what I would want them to be. Parenting is hard and I know from years of student ministry that there are no guarantees or warrantees on particular methods. I am often failing and my fears of not being up to the task at work, at home, and/or at church keep me longing for the day when my strivings shall cease and I will no longer be forced to face life in this fallen place.

Honestly, this morning after trying to parent two in our church pew for disobedience during the church service and feeling completely unsuccessful in my attempt to worship, I had to leave the service to check my makeup. As the deacon prayed the offertory prayer, I slipped out of my seat to find I didn't look like the total mess and fraud I felt like.

Call it spiritual warfare or my own lack of faith or some kind of combination of both, but when I left the service this morning I felt defeated.

I want the ending now. I know it is coming, the day when Christ returns or calls me home, when everything is set right and good triumphs over evil and all is truly well with my soul - however it is God that chooses to bring this present age to its conclusion.

In the meantime, I am struggling with my perspective on it all.

Somedays I feel entitled to certain endings to specific "storylines" in my life. Somedays I just want to wash my hands of the job, the ministry responsibility and the relationship. Somedays I just want to escape into a Disney movie with a box of Sour Patch Kids AND a Milky Way Midnight, pretending like this isn't my reality at all.

Yet, I know that God is at work. He isn't wasting my time or His as I wait for the conclusions of it all. He has an intentional plan as He is actively working in all these "plot lines" of my life and those of all of us who are called according to His purposes. He is in the seemingly insignificant details and in the major twists too - both of individuals and of nations.

It is all bigger than me. Yes, it is war - there are forces unseen locked in battle all around. But it is His grace that is evident in it all.

It is grace that things are not right and good and easy in life SO I will seek Him, acknowledging my need for Him and my dependance on Him.

It is grace that He uses these same circumstances to make me more like Him, cultivating His fruit within me and somehow using me for His desired and determined outcome.

It is grace that He is leading me to accept, yes at times with heartache, that things are not as they should be.

It is grace that will eventually let me see ALL His promises fulfilled and experience the most epic of "Happily Ever Afters" that there will ever be.

In the meantime, at this point in the story - I seek Him, trusting Him by attempting to loosely embrace the brokenness around me. I pray that then He can bring even more beauty from these acknowledged ashes, and that He will use my awareness of the effects of sin in my life in ways that I cannot begin to fathom so that He will receive all the recognition - because, simply put, this is NOT the way that I would do things.

It is all from and for and to and through Him. This is my better-than-Disney ending.

Facing Fears By Holding Hands

I could tell from her cry that the fear was as sincere as it could be. Mommas know the differences in their kids' cries. It starts when they're young - there is the hungry cry, the tired cry, the change-my-diaper cry. . . As the baby gets older and is better able to communicate, some of the cries stop altogether, but there are a few tears that linger - the hurt cry, the angry cry and the scared cry.

At five and a half, Eliza had not cried the scared cry- not like this - in a long, long time. I recognized it instantly though and my heart hurt for her heart. I got on her level and did my best to help teach her how to address this very real, very valid fear.

"Look at me Eliza. What do you know to be true? Look at me. Let's think this through. Look at me. Look at me. The hippo isn't real. Look at me. It's just a robot. It can't get you. It won't get you. Look at me. I am right here. You aren't alone. Look at me. I won't let it get you because it can't get you."

Her sobs slowed and she slowly began to repeat the truths after me - "The hippo isn't real. Mommy is here. It's just a robot." We hugged and I took her hand as we proceeded into the restaurant to look at the aquarium of Finding Nemo type fishies.

Parenting that day outside of the Rainforest Cafe of the Opry Mills Mall, was definitely a moment where I felt the weight of my responsibility as a parent and, also was reminded about my role as a child of God as well.

Two of my three daughters have been deathly afraid of the life-sized animatronic hippopotamus outside of this particular restaurant. We've even nicknamed the whole mall, The Hippo Mall. On one level, it seems something silly to be scared about, but from their small vantage point in a time of their life where they are trying to ascertain reality from fantasy - it is a legitimate some thing to fear.

Eliza had been dreading that moment when we would arrive in THAT corner of the mall. Her feelings were so overwhelming, she could not rationally think through what she knew to be true. She could not talk herself off the ledge.  Her cry was one of desperation and despair.

As her parent, I know that she is old enough to handle this kind of thing - if she knows how. As her parent, I know that is my responsibility to teach her how to face this fear. As her parent, I know that teaching her to handle this fear gives me an opportunity to teach her how to face other fears, bigger ones, scarier ones, ones that won't be so easy to conquer.

So, I taught her to focus on the things she knew to be true. By teaching her to speak truths aloud, she can hear her own voice reminding her heart of what her brain already knows. That silly hippo no longer has a hold over her. His power is lessoned as her faith is strengthened.

Walking away with her little hand still grasping mine, I felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit.

This is why I read the Bible daily.
This is why I should memorize more scripture.
This is why I need to intentionally preach the gospel to myself.

I had studied a long time ago the inverse proportional relationship between faith and fear. When one increases, the other decreases. The more faith you have, the less fear and vice versa. If my faith increases, my fear will decrease. . .

When I find myself afraid, I need to do the very things I taught Eliza to do in the midst of that busy Nashville shopping mall. . . .

Look at Him.  - Just as she struggled to take her eyes off the thing causing her fear and refocus on her loving parent, I know I struggle too. I can't seem to take my eyes off my circumstances - that they will get worse or get me while I stop to look to God. Yet, He gently, consistently and patiently calls me to look at Him.

What do you know to be true?  - My God is bigger, My God is stronger, My God is higher than any other. (Do you know that chorus too?) He loves me. He has good plans for me. He will never leave me or forsake me. As I claim these truths, He shifts my perspective. What seemed so large, so overwhelming and so frightening no longer seems so daunting. He is given the rightful, dominate place and position over me and my fears.

Just as I reminded Eliza that I loved her and was there to take care of her - our God loves and cares for His children in the same way.

A few of the most fear-filled moments in my life were the hours I spent birthing our three loves. The Holy Spirit never failed to bring truth to the forefront of my mind as I dealt with painful contractions. The specific passages were ones I had memorized years before, but focusing on their timeless truth helped me to overcome my fears.

Despite His continual faithfulness in circumstances big and small, I still so easily become irrational and, at times, inconsolable over things that should not scare me. Satan knows my deepest insecurities and unashamedly exploits them.

His grace intervenes. Praise Him!

I need to be reminded of His presence in my darkest places and I need to know His truth reigns over all my feeble attempts of bravery and bravado. The Holy Spirit whispers, reminding me to look at Him, to reflect on what I know to be true.  As I speak the promises of God aloud, my heart hears the truth my brain knows and I am encouraged and empowered. My faith increases and my fear decreases.

Just as Eliza and I moved on, hand-in-hand, so will I. As faith, slowly and surely displaces my fears, I can walk confidently, holding the hand of my God who understands and controls what I cannot.


Photo by Jon Flobrant on Unsplash

What's Next?

Alright. What's next?

The things that have to be done are done.

The house is pretty clean for once. All 2 and half bathrooms are clean. The laundry is caught up. The girls are doing well in school. There is no crisis at work. My marriage is in a good place.

The calendar is full of the average, ordinary events, but nothing big or demanding is written on any of the squares.

The projects that have been pushed to someday, seem approachable and doable.

Life has a way of coming in and out like the tide. The waves never stop, but with certain phases of the moon, the water seems calmer, nicer and even cleaner. There are definitely phases of storms with all their uncertainty of what could happen next - how high the water might come and what destruction might be left in its path.

Right now though, things are good. I am content. We have found a normal and it isn't crazy. By God's grace, this phase of life is definitely "doable" and that kinda scares me . . .

It leaves me asking Him, "What's next?"

In my devotions and Bible studies, I have been reading over and over again how God's grace isn't always good from our perspective, how I should embrace trials and tribulations as one of His followers, and how if Jesus was a man of sorrows I can expect opportunities to emulate Him in sorrowful times of my own.

One of the take-aways in the Sunday school lesson this morning, was how God's protection, provision and presence goes with us - even if going puts in the fiery furnace of Shadrach, Meshach and Adednego. These guys stood firm on their solid knowledge of their God and told the king that even if God didn't save them from the fire, He was still God and still worth dying for.

I know God uses the calm periods in-between life's storms to prepare us for what's ahead. He teaches us the truths we need while we are in the light, so He can develop them in the dark when it is hard to see, hard to trust, and hard to go on.

So, I find myself questioning and thinking, "What's next?"

Is some bad news coming with the next ring of the phone? Is there a hard situation on the horizon that I need to be poised to work through? Is that pain that won't leave my knee a thing? Should I make a doctor's appointment?

Or has God placed me in this current phase because He is wanting something more for me or something else from me?  Is there something I am missing that I should be doing? Is there a relationship I could be working on? A friend to serve? A ministry to support? To start?

I don't know the answer to the question, "What's next?" But I know He knows and that is enough.

Ruth Chou Simmons of Gracelaced often says, "You don't have to be blooming to be growing." Maybe that is exactly where God has me right now. Maybe He is preparing my heart for hard days ahead. Maybe He is prepping me to take on a new project. Maybe He just wants me to be content with Him and not be looking for whatever's next.

So, I will press on. I will read my Bible and pray. I will worship and press into Him. I will love on my family and serve my people.

And, in the meantime, I might actually get my hall bathroom painted!

Photo by Larm Rmah on Unsplash

Blessing of Brain Battles

Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash

I have always appreciated the way Wally and I could just "be" together. There doesn't have to be constant conversation or even distracting background noise. We are just comfortable with each other in the silence.

When we were first a couple, I would ask him what he was thinking about. When he would respond with, "nothing," I would find it impossible to believe. After all, in the quiet my mind had raced and rambled over at least a dozen topics and potential scenarios. It wasn't long into our relationship, when I came to accept the truth: he really can think about "nothing."

Another one of the many things that differentiates us in our marriage, is the amazing way Wally can compartmentalize his thoughts. When he's at work, he's at work. When he returns home, he can shut off work and be at home. When he's ready to relax, he does and he can think about "nothing," turning off his thoughts and not thinking. He can not stress about anything else.

On the other hand, there is me. When I am at home, I will think about what I need to do at work. When I am at work, I will think about what I need to do at home. When there could be a small window to relax, I can't because my mind is too busy thinking of all the other things that need to be done. OR - when I try to relax there is an all-too-familiar feeling of guilt, because of my inability to turn off my brain.

The internal dialogue in my mind is exhausting all by itself, but when emotions are mixed into the batter, the finished product is either burnt beyond recognition or left a soggy, raw, goopy mess.

This tendency is something I know I have passed on to my second born daughter.

I love how God gave her such passion. However, the ways her passions fluctuate are exhausting and overwhelming for her father and me. We often pine over how she must feel. For Piper, it is either the BEST day ever OR the WORST day ever - but - she can instantaneously go from one to the other and, without warning, back again. To call her "dramatic" would be an understatement. High maintenance? At times, most definitely, but never for very long. Her emotions make her complex, but because of their high intensity, we never have to wonder how she is feeling. We can simply watch how she enters the room, dragging and moaning or skipping and singing.

If I am honest, I am jealous of Wally's male mental abilities.
If I am honest, I know my emotions, while not as clearly visible as Piper's, have the same ability to rule and reign every aspect of my life.
If I am honest, I cannot deny that my jealousy and my inability to master my emotions are sinful.

Jealousy undoubtedly goes back to the 10th commandment where we are clearly told not to envy. Jealousy says that I am not satisfied with what God has given me. Jealousy proves that I feel that I deserve more.

Emotions, in and of themselves, are not bad, wrong or sinful per se, but left unchecked they can produce all kinds of havoc. My five year old had every right to be angry with my 15 year old. I couldn't fault her for that - the problem she had was that her anger ruled over her as she began to physically hit her sister in that anger. She sinned against her big sister by whaling on her. She sinned against God by giving into her anger and allowing that to be her motivation.

Like David writes in Psalm 51 - my sin is first and foremost against God. Yes, I should apologize for holding a grudge against Wally, but things can't be made right until I ask my Heavenly Father for forgiveness too.

The internal dialogue in my mind is most definitely, most of the time, a chaotic battlefield.

Thoughts that won't end. Emotions that fuel more thoughts. Satan knowing and attacking my most vulnerable insecurities. Desires to please God, but more emotions that scream of my incapabilities. Then there are hormones that demand attention. While I have never been in an actual, physical war - God's Word tells me that I am most definitely in a spiritual one. The frontline is in my brain.

However, His Word also tells me that He has won the war. With Jesus' resurrection, the final outcome has been irrevocably settled. The Good Guy won. By the faith through grace that He has given me, I have the promise of ultimate victory as well. There will be an end to the chaos in my head because He rules my heart.

The presence of His Spirit within me, is my not-so-secret weapon. I do not fight on my own strength or by my own capabilities. When I seek Him first, He illuminates Satan's lies for what they are, He throws me lifelines of truth to cling to from His Word, and He overwhelms me with the peace I so desperately need in the midst of the fight.

I am SO thankful, God didn't save me and just shrug his shoulders, say "Good luck, see you in heaven!" and walk away. Instead, He actively, intimately uses every aspect of the internal struggle within me to teach me and make me more like Jesus.

While I do envy Wally's ability to turn-it-all-off, I can and should thank God that the endless strain of stressful thoughts force me to depend upon Him. The mess of emotions compel me to dump my crazy on Him. Combined, they grow my faith, showing me that He can handle it. They truly teach me that His load is easy and His burden is light. They do all this and more.

So instead of wishing I was more like my man, I should thank God that I am not. I should appreciate this internal struggle for the many ways it grows my faith and my dependance on Him. I know I could not have learned these truths any other way.

Thank You God for internal struggle that wars within me.
Thank You God for the way it compels me to turn to You.
Thank You God for the assurance that battle will indeed end.
Thank You God for the ultimate victory to be had.

Holding On And Letting Go

Photo by Milada Vigerova

He had only been gone for 15 or so minutes when the phone rang. I had been enjoying the slow start to my Saturday and reading the news on my phone when his picture popped up. Swiping left, I answered his call. What could he had forgotten? He didn't really need anything to help the sweet church lady move into a smaller place.

I could tell instantly by the tone in his voice something wasn't quite right. His words were coming at my ears faster than I could comprehend what he was saying. "A cut . . . a china cabinet . . . I'm okay . . . headed to the ER at Exit 11 . . ."

Trying to assimilate the facts, I stammered out a question or two, still not able to ascertain what had happened. Did he want me to come? Was he sure he was "okay"? Did he think anything was broken?

I was to stay with the girls. He did not want me to come. I needed to wait. He kept saying he was okay.

About an hour and half later, he was on his way home and called again. Eight stitches. The full story - trying to clear the top of the moving van, holding the upper half of Mrs. Evans' china cabinet with the pastor, he slipped, landing on his knees, dropping the solid piece of furniture. It "just happened" to miss crushing his left-hand.

Yes, there had been a lot of blood.
No, he hadn't damaged the furniture.
Yes, it could have been a lot worse.
No, he didn't mean to get out of all the work by injuring himself on the first trip from the house to the truck.

I found myself looking at him randomly all afternoon and into the evening, silently praying, thanking God for His protection, for answering my prayers after the first phone call, and for taking care of my husband in ways I cannot.

At one point, Wally asked me why I kept looking at him "like that." My answer caught in my throat as the realization of what I was feeling bubbled to the surface. As I uttered the words, I fought to keep the hot tears from streaming down my face.

"Believe me, I am very aware that you are the exact age your older brother was when he died."

Saturday, I was faced with my very healthy husband's vulnerability, and, if I am honest, my greatest fear - that he would be taken from me.

On Sunday morning, as I stumbled from my bedroom into the kitchen to start the coffee, I had the fleeting moment when I had forgotten that my oldest daughter spent the weekend away on a church retreat. Seeing her door open and knowing that her bedroom was empty sent a numbing thought through my bleary, barely-awake brain - it wouldn't be long until I awake every morning to find her space empty. College may be a little over two years away, but they will be the fastest two years of my life.

Riley will be gone and the great responsibility to parent and disciple her will look vastly different. Right now, at least I have some kind of control and a greater influence to speak into her life-choices. As she has grown and gotten older, I have realized that she has to learn who she is and be able to make more and more decisions on her own. As she slowly stretches her wings, she has to face her own consequences for those decisions and my role her life, while it doesn't necessarily diminish, it has to change.

This is a hard truth pill to swallow.

She is not the little girl with the Star Wars fascination and collection of small lions she played with in her room. She needs me, but not in the same ways. I miss the grade-school kid she was, but I do love the young woman she is becoming too. I want to hold on to her, but I know I must let her go as well.

Holding on and letting go is a balancing act I am facing with my youngest daughter too. She is set -completely ready in every aspect possible - to start kindergarten in August. Due to the age gaps in between all three of our girls, it will be the first time in 16 years we have not had a preschooler in the house.

No more babies . . .

As I process all of these things, I realize I have to hold all of these relationships - my marriage, my three girls - in open hands before God.

To grasp onto any or all of them too tightly puts them all in the position of idols in my life. No one truly wants to be anyone's idol. What kid, or spouse for that matter, can handle that kind of pressure? Besides, that gapping place in all of us can't be filled by any one person or group of people. God put that hole in us to seek Him and find that only He can fill that void.

It's a total control issue for me. Control -mixed with my own expectations of how I think things "should" be. I continually set myself up for frustration and disappointment. When things don't go how I think they should, or if they don't respond how I think they ought to, then I am angry and even depressed. There is only One who can ultimately control the outcome and I have found Him completely worthy to trust with how things are "supposed to be."

By placing each of "my" people in outstretched, open palms, offering them to the only One who loves them more than I do - I can let them go. My faith isn't in them - their physical presence with me, or how much they need me, or any other validation I could find in them. My faith is in the One who placed them in my life.

He has plans for them. He hears my prayers for them.  He knows what is best for them. He sustains and keeps them.

He knows what is best for me too. He is using them to make me more like Jesus. He beckons me to trust Him even more with them. He sustains and keeps me too.

I'd like to say that that I have figured out this balancing act between holding on and letting go, but the way my fear washed over me Saturday and how I saddened at the sight of open door on Sunday - I know the struggle is real. I can only imagine how I will feel as the first day of school dawns and I watch my two youngest children shuffle up the stairs into the building - one her first day and the other her last first day of elementary school.

I want to believe. I say I trust Him. But my fears and insecurities betray me. Like the solider who sought Jesus to heal his daughter, I come to Him saying I believe but begging Him to help my unbelief all at the same time.

I don't know what He might ask of me in this process of sanctification. But I do know that He is good and is working good - for me and for those I love most.

Redeeming Valentine's Day

It was the first time we had hired a babysitter. It was about that time of the afternoon when we needed to start to get ready to go out. But, we knew something wasn't right. Our oldest was three months shy of her first birthday and she wasn't quite herself. The baby thermometer confirmed our suspicions. She had a fever and our Valentine's Day plans were now kaput.

Wally could tell I was disappointed. He knows my thing with expectations. He also knew I couldn't leave my baby. I don't remember if there were tears involved, but he jumped into action, calling my favorite Italian restaurant and ordering our "go-to" dishes for carry out instead.

While he was gone to pick up our dinner, I caught his enthusiasm for our plan B and set about to surprise him with a beautifully set table. The seldom, if-ever-before-used china and crystal were set on the good cloth tablecloth awaiting his return. We plated the steak, chicken and pasta from the styrofoam take-out containers and sat down to candlelight and soft music.

Riley rested contentedly in her bouncy seat and we had our Valentine's date. No, it wasn't what we had planned or anticipated, but it was wonderful. We celebrated that God had given us each other and the sweet, little one who cooed from the floor. We talked about how nice it was to be home and not fighting the crowded restaurant with long lines and chaotic atmosphere.

I believe it was that Valentine's Day we decided to redeem the holiday.

The fourteenth of February can be so polarizing and stressful. It makes some feel lonely and others feel let down. Card and chocolate manufacturers compete for our money. While jewelers, florists and perfume companies do the same. If you aren't "with" somebody, you wonder what is wrong with you. If you are "with" someone, you wonder if your gift is sending the "right" message or is the "right" size. In our over-sexed culture, romance has taken on new meanings. Without a biblical worldview,  people will be let down believing that this distorted definition of love is all there is. It is easy to become cynical and skeptical. Honestly, I can't blame anyone for discarding the whole holiday if this is what they are celebrating.

On the Valentine's Day described above, we had no idea that God would bless us with two more daughters to steward their hearts. We encourage Disney princess movies and Jane Austin novels. They witness kisses and embraces between their parents and know we have date nights and anniversary get-a-ways. They know we pray for their future spouses and that we long for God to bless them with strong biblical marriages to strong Christian men.  But . . . we pray for much more than that for them . . .

. . . We pray for them to intimately know the God who intimately knows them AND loves them with an amazing love beyond their comprehension.

We decided on that Valentine's night sixteen years ago to incorporate our kids into our Valentine's Day plans. We would eat a GOOD meal full of our favorites, either gathered from various restaurants or prepared in our own kitchen. We would break out the china and use the silver-plate. We would use this over-commercialized holiday to intentionally teach our girls about the love that is described in 1 Corinthians 13.

Boys will only let girls down. God did not design anyone person to complete any other person. That longing and desire that my daughters will one day have can ONLY be fulfilled completely in the love that God provides. Any other way will only lead to stressful relationships and disappointment. ONLY God can love them they way He created them to be loved. I want them to know this love.

Romance is not dead. Sure, chivalry might be, but true self-sacrificing, promise-keeping, faithful devotion, always-being-there commitment can ONLY be found in the love that God loves us with. No matter how wonderful he is, he will one day, somehow disappoint them and let them down. God alone will always be there for them. I want them to know this love.

No one can blame the spouse that bails on the marriage when their partner has broken their vows and been unfaithful. But, God forgives our indiscretions and paid the debt of our continued unfaithfulness. He knows our worst thoughts, wrong motivations and our out-right willful sins yet continues to be lovingly faithful to us. He doesn't overlook our short-comings but ONLY He can transform our offenses into His righteousness through the death of His Son. I want them to know this love.

This love that never fails will never let us down. This love is worth celebrating with the good china and rich food. This love should be remembered and talked about and given recognition. Our family chooses to do this on Valentine's Day.

My girls know I am crazy "in" love with their father. They know how handsome I find him and how devoted he is to me as well. We would all agree that one of our greatest blessings is the love that he and I share. I will not diminish it, but I will say that as great and as special as it is - our romantic love pales in comparison to the love that God has lavishly, continually, bestowed upon us.

We will exchange small gifts and cards. As their first Valentine, Wally will get the girls modest presents too, showing them his love for them in a tiny tangible way. He models for them something far greater than how they should expect a man to treat them someday. He is modeling for them everyday how their Heavenly Father loves them.

This intentionality has led me to use the seemingly endless stream of diamond, perfume and edible arrangement commercials to cultivate prayers of thanksgiving. By His grace alone, I am the recipient of the most amazing love. This is the love that I am choosing to celebrate this week.

I posted this tonight, so you might be challenged to do the same - redeem Valentine's Day. Use this secular holiday to commemorate and celebrate the sacred love that God has, is and will continue to give us.

Perspective Problems

I know that they are cheesy and corny, but I really do like those "trick" photographs where the perspective makes reality look like something that really isn't happening is, in fact, happening.

A quick Google search will yield some pretty creative shots!

The tourists look like they're holding up the leaning Tower of Pisa or, like in the opening of the movie Despicable Me, the guy is "carrying" an Egyptian pyramid on his back. There are YouTube Chanels dedicated to that same kind of trick photography, using perspective to make the eye see things that aren't really there, that aren't really possible.

The guy isn't holding the pyramid or the tower, it just appears that way because of the perspective of the camera's lens. But, what if we didn't know we were being tricked? What if we really thought that a man was carrying a pyramid on his back?

I guess I would make some assumptions about the reality of that pyramid. It must not be as big or as heavy as I was led to believe. Maybe all the pyramids could be moved around this way? What else did I learn about ancient Egyptian history that could be wrong?

Then there were those "Magic Eye" pictures. (Weren't they popular in the 90's?) If you stand in front of one at just the right distance and let your eyes kinda cross or unfocus, you could see a 3D image hidden in the colorful pattern of wavy lines. From dolphins to celebrities, the subject matter that filled these posters sold at the mall kiosks were endless. However, some people never could find the right perspective to ever see anything.

Perspective is everything.

I have been thinking a lot about this fact this weekend.

The Israelites and King Saul saw the giant, Goliath of Gath, and their perspective was all kinds of wrong. The boy shepherd, David, arrives on the scene, but from his vantage point, he was never the underdog. The story of David and Goliath isn't a story on how God helps the weak to beat the strong. Rather it is all about how God uses what we would deem as weak to shame the strong, to prove His power and to show His glory. God doesn't jump on "David's side." David's perspective on the problem is from God's vantage point instead.

The Israelites and King Saul had lost sight of who they were. As God's chosen people, they were guaranteed victory.  They were cowering in fear, demoralized and defeated before the battle even started. All they could see was the intimidating warrior in front of them, forgetting that they were valued and loved by God. They couldn't remember their past, how God has always taken care of them and provided for them. The only future they could see was one of defeat and slavery. David knew who he was. He was God's anointed, future king of Israel. He trusted God's promises and knew that because of God's word to him, he could not fail.

The Israelites and King Saul couldn't see the big picture. God was doing something in their midst, to fulfill His plan and establish His purposes. Even in their cowardice, He was paving the way for that shepherd boy to be eventually accepted as king of Israel. He was laying the groundwork for Jesus' eventual incarnation - He would come from the line of King David. At the time Saul and the people were too consumed with their immediate predicament, that they couldn't see God was actually doing something bigger and higher than they could understand.

The Israelites, King Saul and I have more in common than I want to admit. It doesn't take much for my perspective to be skewed.

First, my problems may not be a 9 foot giant that wants to feed my flesh to the birds of the air, but they can be just as life-threatening and every bit as intimidating. Thankfully, they aren't right now, but I know others who are going through those kinds of trials.

My "Goliaths" really aren't anything to slow me down, except when my perspective is "off" and I allow them to appear bigger than they really are.

Regardless, any Goliath that comes my way IS puny in comparison to God. Just as David rightly viewed God's power and capability over the Philistine warrior's appearance, proper perspective puts any circumstance into its proper place.

Second, I too easily forget who and Whose I am. I am redeemed. I am forgiven. I am fully known - AND even being fully known - the good, the bad and the ugly - I am fully loved. I am adopted by the King of all kings - making me royalty.

When I forget my identity in Christ, I see myself as less than and not good enough. I treat myself poorly and allow others to do the same. I don't fulfill the roles that God intends me to fill. My obedience to Him becomes drudgery. I "have to" instead of I "get to."

When my perspective is self-centered instead of God-centered, sin creeps in. Jealousy, envy, and pride keep my eyes focused on anything except who God says that I am.

Third, despite my life circumstances and how I view myself, God IS doing something bigger than me and my understanding too. His word tells me that He is working and weaving ALL things together for His glory and my good.

Even if my perspective is off, He is still accomplishing His goals. His plans cannot be thwarted or denied. He has the victory over all in this sinful world and nothing is impossible for Him.

I cannot know because it is beyond my comprehension. I cannot see it with a microscope or a telescope because it is more than my mind can take in. His word tells me that what He is doing is more than I can ask for or imagine . . .

Someday, my faith will be sight. I won't have to ask for His perspective because I will see me and this world the same way He does. I will no longer be tricked by a limited perspective and the altered view that comes with it.

In the meantime, I am praying for God's perspective on my circumstances. I am praying to see myself the way He does. I am praying that I would be intentionally aware that He is doing something in and around me that is bigger than me.

Mercy In, Mercy Out

Confession time.

I rank sins.
I judge people.
I make assumptions.
I consider myself better than others.
Somehow I think I am more deserving of God's grace.
I am prideful.

"It's natural to want mercy for yourself but justice for others." -Paul David Tripp

This quote from my devotional this weekend stung.

My ladies' Bible study was on Bathsheba last week. I found myself questioning her motives and wanting to read between the lines to judge her as a naive victim or a cunning, seductive adulteress. The scripture doesn't tell us the condition of her heart or really even any words from her tongue, yet, I wanted to label her and decide whether or not I like her.

As we discussed her fall into temptation the following verse was brought up:

"Let no one say when he is tempted, 'I am tempted by God,' for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire." James 1:13-14

The very things that tempt us reveal to us what we truly desire. If we didn't desire what tempts then it wouldn't be tempting to us. (The desire for dark chocolate is greater than my desire to lose the weight I put on over the holidays. White chocolate is not tempting to me in the least, because I have no desire for for it.)

David and Bathsheba had a sexual desire and so found temptation in each other's arms. If they had not desired each other, there would have been no temptation. Each of them could have recognized the desire, the temptation and then avoided the sin.

The next verse in James is this:

"Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death." James 1:15

David and Bathsheba's sin resulted in a lot of death. Her husband's, other soldiers, their baby . . . The wages of sin is always death and the consequences of sin always weigh heavy on the most innocent. Then and now.

The Holy Spirit pricked my heart in all of this. My desire to judge others is not limited to a dead queen of Israel. My desire to judge others shows the temptation I face to be prideful and self-righteous.

For example:

With many, many other evangelical Christians this week I watched with sadness as the governor of New York signed pro-abortion legislation into law. I read many, many social media posts on both sides of the issue. Feelings are understandably deep and raw.

It is natural to want justice for the loss of lives of the unborn. We are called to stand up for the weak, the vulnerable and the voiceless. My heart breaks for the babies lost to this evil . . .

But my heart also breaks for the momma who feels like she has no choice and for the woman who feels she must choose between her life and her child's.

There are "statistics" and "facts" and "testimonies" that can all be twisted to support any side of any argument. However, as Christians, our eyes have been opened by grace alone to the truth. The god of this world, continues to blind mankind to the horrendous act of child sacrifice to the idols of convenience, greed, and fear. Our desires for these things leads to the temptation to succumb to this evil, lessoning it through "reason," and the sin "fully grown brings forth death."

Satan is our enemy. He is the one tempting us - not the people or governor of New York, not the victim of rape or incest, not the mother who desperately wants the baby that the test has said is not-viable.

If I am not careful, my desire to be right, to judge others, and to see myself as better than will lead me to a place of self-righteous sin. Instead, the Holy Spirit is giving me a different mindset with a fresh understanding.

I hurt for "these" people. I can't imagine being in the position of the mother that is facing those test results - especially if she does not have the hope in Christ that I do. I want to tell them that God does not make mistakes, that He brings good out of bad things and that He still is in the business of confounding doctors and medical professionals.

It is by faith through grace alone that I have the understanding that I do. It is that same faith through grace that reminds me that my sins are just as black as the abortionist doctor. It is that same faith through grace that allows me to leave the justice I seek to God and gives me the ability to share the mercy I have been given to others.

The wages of my sin is death. God has removed my sin from me as far as the east is from the west. He has shown me extreme mercy by taking away the ultimate consequence for my sin. He took it from me and gave it to Jesus. He died in my place. I didn't deserve it. I didn't ask for it. I didn't even know I needed it when He did it.

When I take all this into account, I am in awe . . . Like the Pharisees that slipped away, one-by-one when Jesus told them that whoever was without sin could throw the first stone at the woman caught in adultery, I know that I am the last one to condemn anyone.

When I stop and reflect on the mercy I have received, I have mercy for Bathsheba and I have mercy for all of those caught up in the abortion debate. I cannot judge or condemn. I am not any more worthy to receive His grace than anyone else.

When I contemplate the grace that God has shown me, I am motivated to extend grace to others, to whomever He brings into my life, to minister to them with the same grace and compassion He has bestowed to me. Because He continues to be faithful to show me mercy, so I too can show mercy to others who don't deserve it either.

Tuesday I will go to my board meeting of our local crisis pregnancy center. If I am like Bathsheba and others are only left to judge me by my actions, not knowing my words or motives - my prayer is that they will not doubt the difference God's grace and mercy have made in my life because of how I am able to show it to others.

As He forgives me for my sin, showering me with His mercy and grace, I am able to pour it out on others too. It's not of me. It originates in Him. He gives it to me and, as a result, I can't keep it to myself.

Mercy in, mercy out.

First Things First

"But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." Matthew 6:33

The first place I am seeking to be intentional is in my relationship with God. Everything else falls into the category of "all these things," and I am claiming His promise that those "things" will be "added to" me as I intentionally pursue Him first. 

• When I look at my life from His perspective, I am able to see "things" from the vantage point of eternity and the momentary circumstances soon pale in comparison. 
• Remembering that my life is not my own, but was bought with a price, points me back to the gospel and how it puts "all these things" in their proper place. 
• Knowing that my spiritual life supersedes and impacts all other aspects of "my" life, the truth of the above scripture has already proven trustworthy throughout my life. God has never failed to keep this Word to me. 

So, how am I being intentional in my walk with Christ? Where does my intentionality start? While I am still praying through the specifics, (I understand that "the experts" insist that resolutions and goals need to be specific to be successful.) I am hesitant to make some grand proclamation of some plan that I can't follow through with . . . 

I know I NEED to develop my time in the Word AND my time in prayer. As a result, here is my plan three days in: 

I am reading Paul David Tripp's New Morning Mercies. It's a daily "gospel" devotional, with each entry pointing the reader back to the truth of the good news. It isn't long but it's got depth and every page ends with a short scripture reading to meditate on. 

To keep it from becoming just one more thing I read in the mornings -along with news, emails and Facebook, I have begun a journal of sorts. After the date, I am copying/writing a few quotes of Tripp's and my own that I want to reflect on throughout the day. Then, a simple one line or two, I am writing a bottom line prayer, asking God to take my intentions and do with them whatever He will. 

Realizing my prayer life needs more intentionality than this, I expect and plan to be more intentional in how and when I pray. 

Realizing that I need to be in the Word more than this, I have a couple more books that I can't wait to dig into and read this year too. (Thanks Momma for the great Christmas gifts: None Like Him, by Jen Wilkin and Gracelaced by Ruth Chou Simmons)

Realizing that when I am intentional in seeking Him first, "all these things," aka - my other areas of New Year's resolutions, "will be added." The health goals, the job goals, the personal/relationship goals will come too. They will come as a result of my pursuit of the first goal - to intentionally seek Him first. 

So, what are your goals for the New Year? Let me encourage you to put seeking Him first as first on your list . . . Test God and see if He doesn't keep His Word to you too. See that if you seek Him first, He doesn't help you meet the rest of your goals along the way. 

Who knows? Maybe as we place Him first, He will edit the rest of our goals? Either way, we know that He is good and the that He finishes what He starts. Sounds like a good resolution/accountability partner to me!