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I start so many things. Projects, goals, diets, plans. Right now there's 15 rows of a crocheted afghan sitting in a bag somewhere still attached to the skeins of yarn, and I once took a year to back a quilt I made. Then there's the piano piece I can only play the first 5 measures of due to lack of practice, and the growing pile of books I keep meaning to list on Amazon.
So. Much. Starting.
Occasionally I will follow an item completely through to the end, especially if chocolate is involved. But more often than not, along the way to those good intentions I'll hit a snag -
not enough time, energy or resources - and let that discourage me from continuing. I take the obstacle as
proof I should stop rather than as
motivation to proceed.
I admire and respect those who don't let circumstances or unexpected twists and turns in their life get in the way or keep them from what God has shown them or told them to do. So many have faced unthinkable adversity and yet still accomplished great things no matter what interrupted their plans.
They started, they finished. They followed through.
I've found it's easy to start, but the real test of my character is....how well do I finish?
How do I react to obstacles or discouragement that randomly appear in the pursuit of where He's called me to go, who He's called me to be? The answer to that question reveals what I'm made of. Anyone can stumble back in defeat, throw in the towel, give up the dream. That's easy. But sticking with the plan? Continuing against all reason? Believing that God will finish what He started? That's where I'm tested.
It isn't in the giving up but rather in the keeping going that shows the strength of my faith.
It's there that I have a choice- to push through because I trust Him, or retreat in defeat because it all seems too difficult.
We can't succumb to an unwanted pebble in the path and take it to mean we shouldn't be walking there. Instead, we must incorporate and welcome that uncomfortable interruption and make it part of our story, recognizing it for what it is; a perfectly placed piece of the puzzle.
So go ahead and start. Along the way, don't let the obstacles fool you; they are there for your good. And then make sure you finish.
Finish well.
For a while, I've been feeling like there has been something missing from my faith; something sending me a little off-course.
Kind of like I am one ingredient short of a full recipe.
It took some time, but I realized the missing element is worshiping God simply for who He is, not for what He can do for me. I need to slow down and speak to Him words of adoration, dwell in His presence, give Him praise without requests. I need to love Him first and best so that He can love others well through me.
In this season I have simplified my prayers to God, drawing near to the heart of who He is so that He will draw near to me as He promised. I can recite more Scripture from memory than I thought, and recently I was speaking one of my favorite passages out loud to myself in the car and taking comfort from it -
"Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior and my hope is in you all day long." Psalm 25:4-5These verses don't ask for anything except to be closer to God. They are not saying, "God, make my life better with the things I think I need. Please fix this person. Please resolve this situation. Please...please...please....."
Instead, it's "Show me
your ways, teach me
your paths..."
Guide me.
Teach me.
And my hope will be in you
all day long.
As I learn to love Him more completely, may His love be made complete in me, spilling out freely to those whose lives I interact with.
It would be my first time traveling to New York City alone, so I studied the train schedule, route and map of stops well ahead of time. I noticed on the transit website that Seacaucus, New Jersey, looked like a major hub where the surrounding area trains all bottlenecked through and then lunged forth on separate routes to various places in the New York state vicinity. I panicked a little. Wanting to get on one train in the morning and be able to get off
the same one in New York City was key for me to be relaxed about this whole venture. I called the transit office to be sure my train would simply sail through the Seacaucus maze with me still on it, all the while heading to my final destination of Penn Station. She assured me it would.
I couldn't have been more relieved.
The trip was uneventful, and by the time I'd gotten myself to Manhattan via rail and hailed a taxi to my conference's hotel, this country girl felt mighty proud of herself to have navigated her way through mass transit.
As the day drew to a close, I knew I had just enough time to haul it back to the train station and find the right one to take me back through the Secaucus tangled web and then on home. I felt like I knew where I was going now, which helped my comfort level for the return trip. Little did I know it would also help others.
I didn't have to wait long until the 4:35 bound for my home station was boarding. I got on and as I settled into my seat near one of the doors, two tall, blonde teenage girls stepped into the car looking hesitant. I could tell their eyes were searching for someone else's to land on, so when they looked at me, I met their gaze.
"Is this train going to Seacaucus?" one of them asked nervously. I could hear the panic in her voice. "We need to be on that train; is this the right one?"
Ah, Secaucus. I knew it well. Well enough to know that this train was going to stop there, but I didn't have to get off. Yay, me.
"Yep!" I said confidently. "This is the one. You're on the right train." The relief on their young faces was easy to see; they sank into seats across the aisle and let out a happy sigh.
Peronally, I was amazed I knew the answer to their question after only one morning on the rails.
"Thank you so much," the one girl said to me a bit sheepishly.
"No problem," I replied. We all smiled at one another before they launched their cell phones to let their parents know they were on the correct train bound for home.
Moments before we were to pull away, a final passenger entered our train car, She looked flushed and hurried. Since I was sitting closest to the door she came in, I was the first one she saw and spoke to.
And again, the panic.
"Is this train going to Seacaucus?" she asked as she plopped down breathlessly in the seat directly across from me,
I immediately looked across the aisle at the girls. They smiled, and so did I. Seems we all needed to be headed there. Still looking at the girls, I said to her, "Yes, this train is going to Seacaucus, and I'm stopping it there myself if I have to." The girls giggled and the woman looked puzzled, but she was satisfied with my answer so she stayed put, too tired to seek out another car. Seconds later, we pulled away from the platform.
The woman and I chatted through the first few miles and stops. We talked about where we lived, where we had been that day, who we were. She noticed the book I was holding as the spine was facing outward. "Grace" by Max Lucado. "He's one of my favorite authors," she said, and we commented back and forth about his writing for a few moments. Kindred spirits, it seemed.
The train stopped again, and we were too caught up in conversation to see the girls go by. After a few moments, I slowly turned my head only to see the word "Seacaucus" largely displayed on the platform sign just outside the window and gasped. "This is your stop!" I exclaimed, and we laughed as she quickly gathered her things and exited the train just before it pulled away from the very place she wanted to be.
Oh, the irony.
If I hadn't had the (albeit limited) travel experience, I would have been no help to those people who were looking for a little direction, a little guidance, a bit of reassurance that afternoon. Likewise, when I'm searching, it's best for me to go to those who have been there; who have walked the walk, grieved the pain, fought the same fight I find myself in.
But there is no human who has ever walked every journey. Jesus has. He's the one to follow as He's already endured everything we might possibly go through. I can trust that He's cleared the path I'm facing with His own footsteps, and He is willing to walk it with me whenever I need Him to.
No need to panic, no need to fear. He knows where I'm headed, and He knows how to get me there.
I just need to trust Him.
There have been some rough days. Days that easily fill my mind with worry, anxiety and concern over myself and the people I love the most.
I pray. And pray again. And then I pray some more.
Sometimes things change, often sometimes they don't.
But today, for the first time in a long time, I woke up and went through my mental checklist of who and what normally concerns me when I awake and I was able to put an imaginary "it's ok" star by almost every category and individual.
I smiled. I could breathe easier.
I felt happy.
And then, I felt guilty.
Hmmm. Not the emotion I was going for.
The guilt revealed the real problem I have. This morning I was feeling better and happier because my circumstances had improved and things were lining up the way I had hoped they would. I felt a little bit in control, kind of like I had God on a string and surely He saw now that He should do things my way so that I could have a very nice life.
But......yuk. That is so not who I want to be. Because that is so not how God and life work.
I don't want to depend on my circumstances to be happy or feel joy. I want to live above them, not under them. I want to be someone whose faith is secure and solid; someone whose trust in God is so deep and complete that I don't need to have every box on my list checked off in a positive manner in order to feel good and approach my day with a glad heart.
I want to live a life that greets each day with gratitude simply for the breath and life He has given me, and for the gift of knowing Him.
Even if He never answers another prayer the way I expect Him to.
Let's face it- we all know people who have more joy and contentment on their bad days than we do on most of our good ones. And granted, we all breathe a sigh of relief when we get a reprieve from the things that have kept us up at night a good long while. That's to be expected.
But it's the everyday joy I am seeking; the one that will remain with me when life goes haywire and my world spins crazy. The kind that grounds me in knowing and trusting that God has all of this - every moment - in His control, even when it seems that no one, not even God, could fix the mess that is happening. I want to approach my day if not always with a smile on my face, then with one on my heart knowing that God's got this and I can move forward in trust and confidence in the One who made me, knows me and knows exactly what I need.
Instead of reaching for my checklist to tell me how I feel, I will reach for Him.
And I bet in doing so, I will reach joy.
When I started my new job last year, I was given a key to the ladies room down the hall. Since only employees who had a key could access the facilities, it was obvious that my possession of such granted me access to the in-crowd, the ones in the know, the ones who could
go.
I felt pretty darned special.
Until one day when someone else with a key showed up and attempted to open the door while I was actually
in there, sending me scrambling to keep the door
closed. It quickly became clear that anyone with a second floor ladies room key could get in at any time regardless of who was occupying the premises. All they had to do was put their key in the lock and swing the door wide open......
and let the irreparable damage begin.
Hold on a minute. Surely this couldn't be the way it worked. Was there no etiquette of the keys? No protection from being walked in on any time of the day or night? Didn't anyone make a fist and knock anymore?
It was in my wild lunging towards a closed door about to open that I saw it. Right there in front of me. Another piece of the locking mechanism I had missed, visible only from the inside. Usable only from the inside. Meant only for
the person on the inside.
Behold the beauty of The Top Lock.
This is the latch you swing to the left after you are
in the bathroom. The one that has no key access from the other side. The one that keeps the door shut securely so there can't be any surprises. The one that guarantees that no one, no how is getting in to see the wizard until the wizard is ready to be seen.
I exhaled. It was true. As I had hoped, the ladies room
was Fort Knox after all. My faith in our property management group returned that day.
Oddly enough, maneuvering that lever made me think of my life. Where did I need to throw a top latch? Were there areas in my heart and mind that needed protection from unwanted intruders? Might there be parts of myself that were only loosely guarded, leaving room for temptation with an all-access key to surprise me with bad choices, influences, and juicy offers while swinging the door wide open and walking right in?
Unpleasant visitors enter my life so easily. Their names are familiar - Judgment, Jealousy, Fear, Enviousness, Comparison, Self-defeat, Criticism...the list can get long in a heartbeat. There's a latch I need to engage when they visit, a latch which looks like taking every thought captive to Christ and holding every errant emotion I am feeling up to God and His word. God's truth is the barricade that keeps the unwanted guest out, but just like in the second floor ladies room, it's up to me to put it into place. God's given me all I need in His word to send those intruders packing, but I must have spent time getting ready in order to be prepared with His truth when they arrive.
I need to remember, it's not enough to just go in and shut the door.
Protection comes when I bolt it from the inside out.
Today I was reading an excellent post by Emily Freeman on (in)courage. She speaks about undoing - unwinding, unplugging, unscheduling, to let her spirit rest and breathe. Taking the time to actually have free time, and not let it get eaten up with an agenda. Imagine that.
She also lets the reader in on her newest method of relaxing during that free time - the art of crocheting.
Well now, isn't that a small world. It just so happens I have a foot in both the balancing-my-free-time and crocheting camps even as we speak. I'm not kidding.
I, too, have recently re-learned how to crochet and yes, if you're my family member and reading this, you now know we are having a yarn-based Christmas this year.
I come by it somewhat naturally. My mother was a knitter and she made beautiful things- like an afghan that I still have today because her hands wove those stitches together. Or a too-small-for-me red cable knit sweater that apparently I unraveled off her needles when I was 2 and she was 41 and on the phone. A mounted wall phone....leaving me on my own with her creation and my curious toddler fingers. After the sweater was finally finished and worn by her for many years, she passed it on to me and even though it never did fit, I can't throw it out or give it away. She and I made that one together.
But to me, two knitting needles and yarn resemble eating spaghetti with chopsticks, so I went the one-hook route and decided to crochet when I have a moment.
Which brings me to my current concern - what is the best use of my time when I actually do have a moment? or 5? or 3 hours? How much downtime is good and healthy without crossing the line to lazy? I'm at a point where I feel like I must be productive all evening at home after being productive all day at work and am having trouble finding when to stop. Or I go to the other extreme; when I get home, I don't "start" anything at all and head right to my pj's, comfort food and a favorite episode of some brainless show On Demand. And that sets the course for the whole evening...
I would like to figure out where to land in the "what do I do with my free time" game. I definitely need to cut myself a break from churning out results 24/7, but also have to be intentional if I ever want to get a blog post written, a book drafted, the bills paid or dinner on the table for my husband and I once in a while.
What's your go-to plan when you find yourself with hours to spare? How do you shift gears after a full work day, transitioning into evenings at home with demands or perhaps the lack of them? Do you keep on producing, or are you able to balance productivity with relaxation? Do you crochet? :)
Share in the comments!
Here's a concept I need to explore- Confidence. I realized in my prayer time this morning that I really don't have much of it..... in many areas. In my looks, my clothes, my hair for starters (these are First World problems and so self-centered I can't believe I'm actually saying them). Confidence that I am enough as is. Confidence that things for my children, me and my husband will turn out okay and that God is in control and He is working.
I hadn't realized I was lacking confidence, but after thinking about it, a part of me wonders if maybe that's a good thing to lack.
Let me explain.
In my experience, day-to-day confidence can fluctuate greatly for a woman (see First World Problems, above). We females put a lot of stock in our clothes coordinating, our doo turning out right and our makeup looking flawless each day to boost our confidence. Any one of those goes awry and there's trouble brewing. Layer on top of that our mental assessment of the shape, size and firmness/flabbiness of our bodies at the moment, and...well, you can see how the whole day can become a slippery slope before we even leave the house. Part Most of me wishes I could be one of those women who go without makeup every day, pulling my hair back into an easy ponytail, looking how I look and still feeling confident. I am not there yet and most likely if I died tomorrow I would want to be buried with purple eye shadow on and a full sweep of mascara, and don't forget my earrings thank you very much. Last impressions and all that, you know.
But if my confidence in who I am is coming from my appearance, I'm in trouble. Big trouble. I believe most of us recognize this, but many of us still struggle with it. I know I do on a daily basis.
And there's more. I need spiritual confidence. You know - the kind that helps you to believe that God is in control and at work, which as far as I can tell translates seamlessly to the word "faith".
But still the word "confidence" sounds like pride to me, even when I'm putting it next to the word "spiritual". An I-don't-need-you-God-I-got-this kind of thing. I'm wondering what place confidence has in my spiritual walk and journey.
Does confidence blend with or work against faith and trust? Is it a trifecta of things that go together, or is confidence separate and worldly, neatly elbowing God out of the equation by putting the focus and trust in myself and how I feel on any given day?
As a Christian, what is my perspective on confidence?
What is yours?
I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Our weekend away had arrived. Soon 5 of us women would be piling into a van to head to our annual church retreat where we would spend time laughing, learning and most importantly, eating delicious meals we didn't have to cook.
Gathering at our driver’s house, we lined up our suitcases to load into the back of her vehicle. One suitcase - my sister’s - stood out due to it being the oh-so-attention getting shade of safety cone orange. She admitted it was her luggage from over 20 years ago, but it had served her well and didn't show any wear so she’d never replaced it. Mixed in with our other traveling bags of contemporary purples, blacks, tapestries and polka dots, we couldn't help but razz her a little bit that she might want to look into new luggage when we got back….
That being said, we headed off and had a marvelous time. As always, the weekend passed quickly and the retreat was over all too soon. Before we knew it, it was time to return home. Back in my friend’s van we and our belongings went on Sunday afternoon, our heads and hearts (and stomachs) full of all we had taken in over the past two days. We chatted among ourselves going home, sharing stories the whole way, eager to get back to our families waiting for us.
And then we heard the clunk. And felt the lurch. And realized we had to get off the road fast because, just as we were nearing our destination, we had a flat tire.
Sighs of deflation were heard all around.
To make matters worse, we were on a busy, crowded highway where the only place to pull off was a strip of macadam barely wide enough to be called a shoulder. It was more like a “You’ll be lucky if you can squeeze your car in here; don’t try opening any doors” space. But, pull off we did and sat there to assess our fate for a moment. A few of us got out of the van to inspect said flat tire, but quickly realized we were taking our lives in our hands by doing so as the flat was on the driver’s side, which was only inches away from a steady stream of fully mobile cars going 60 miles an hour.
Back in the van, we called AAA, who promised to come help us but also promised it would be well over an hour before they would arrive. Ugh. All we could do was wait in the van on our cramped little strip of roadside. The more we sat there with multitudes of traffic whizzing by us to our left, the more we felt like sitting ducks waiting to be plowed into from behind by someone not realizing we were at a dead, parked stop.
We knew we needed something. A marker of sorts that we could put out behind our vehicle to let other drivers know to watch out for us. Something that would get their attention and cause them to notice that our van was helplessly over to the side, to alert them to steer clear of us…..
That’s the moment we remembered we were in possession of one very bright orange suitcase.
Upon that realization, a few of us tumbled out of the van, opened the back hatch and pulled my sister’s luggage to the front of the pile. It was absolutely perfect ; the color was so bold and brazen that we put the piece at an angle right behind the flat tire. Immediately we felt safer. And a little ashamed of ourselves. What we had originally advised her to replace was exactly what we needed right now.
We did not get hit- fortunately- and the neon orange of the suitcase even alerted a passing truck driver that we were in need of assistance. He stopped ahead of us, changed our flat and we were on our way home before AAA even had a chance to call back. What could have been a major headache in our day turned out to be just a small interruption on our way home, and the rest of the trip was event free.
I am not sure if my sister ever bought new luggage, but I’m glad she hadn’t prior to that trip. God knew we were going to need what she had; He is that much in the details. He can use the outdated things, the less-than-trendy pieces, and the not-so-much-like-all-the-rest parts of us to accomplish His purposes. We don’t have to be the latest, the greatest, or the best in order for Him to use us. We just need to be His.
All in all the weekend was a huge success, thanks to a bright orange suitcase and a very creative, all-knowing God.
I opened my email inbox yesterday to find that I had a message with the subject, "God is now following you on Twitter!" Even at 7:00 in the morning, it was funny. I couldn't wait to find out more, so I opened the email, which read,
"God (GodTwitte) is now following your tweets on Twitter. A little information about God:
2 followers
1 tweet
following 377 people ".
Hmm...He wasn't following as many people as I might have imagined the Creator of the Universe to be keeping tabs on, but it was a start, I guessed. After all, it's going to take a while to tag onto millions of people.
The standard Twitter email went on to inform me:
"You may follow God as well by clicking on the "follow" button on their profile. If you believe God is engaging in abusive behavior on Twitter, you may report God for spam.
God may not appear in your follower list. God may have decided to stop following you, or the account may have been suspended for a Terms of Service violation. "
For those of you who have a Twitter account, you'll recognize the format of this email that goes out to all account holders when someone new follows them. Putting God's name in just makes for a humorous read, and a real good blog post.
There was one more piece to the puzzle though. Assuming the real and triune God would protect me and my beloved laptop from any viruses if I clicked through to God's profile because I just
had to know what it said, I clicked on His heavenly little icon and here's what I got -
"Sorry, the profile you were trying to view has been suspended due to strange activity."
That was the icing on the angel food cake.
Okay, there's just a whole lot of fun I can have making parallels with an email like that. So let's dive in, shall we? I thought I'd do an instant replay of the text and add my own comments as to the truth or lie of it all...
God (GodTwitte) is now following your tweets on Twitter. A little information about God: -
Correction. There's a whole lot of information about God you can get your hands on- it's called The Bible and you need to read it if you haven't yet. It's a best seller. 2 followers -
Well, there's 5 in my household alone so there goes that fact. 1 tweet -
Oh my. He's got thousands of tweets for you. In the Bible they're notated as verses. following 377 people. -
Wrong again. World population - 6.916 billion and climbing. He's following each one. You may follow God as well by clicking on the "follow" button on their profile. -
No need to click on any button. You can follow God quite easily by simply telling Him you accept His free gift of life given by His Son dying for you. Then, let the following begin..... If you believe God is engaging in abusive behavior on Twitter, you may report God for spam. -
God will never, ever be involved in any kind of abusive behavior- He loves to give good gifts to His children. Gotta give this one a big thumbs down and disregard it. God may not appear in your follower list. -
This statement reminds me of the times when we don't especially "feel" God near, or when we wonder if He's even listening. Even though He may not appear to be following at times like that, rest assured He can't take His eyes off you. God may have decided to stop following you, or the account may have been suspended for a Terms of Service violation. -
Never. God will never stop following you. Furthermore, if you are really His child (see "accept free gift" above), you can never be suspended for a service violation. Once His, always His. And last, but not least (as a matter of fact, I think this one is the best yet) -
"Sorry, the profile you were trying to view has been suspended due to strange activity." -
If you define strange activity as healing, raising from the dead, repairing broken relationships, miracles, and the like, then God may need to fit into the "suspended account" category for you. God is not bound by the rules of this world, and realize that what may seem strange to some is hope and proof of God to others. It all depends on who you're following, and where you're going. I do not need God to follow me on Twitter. I already am assured that He is with me every moment of every day because of a decision I made one night in February of 1981 to follow Him. God had this "following" thing figured out way before now- as a matter of fact, He's been checking status updates since He put two people in a garden and communicated with them. Now, that's Someone worth following.
I had the privilege of being part of the book launch team for Bonnie Gray’s “Finding Spiritual Whitespace”. This book is a much needed oasis that speaks truth into our hurried lives. Bonnie weaves keen spiritual insights and revelations into her story of a difficult childhood which led to unexpectedly dealing with PTSD and the ravaging effect that had on her as a whole person. She speaks from a deep well of experience, and relates definitive mile-markers of spiritual growth, where God divinely showed her how much her soul desperately needed to seek Him, to slow down, to rest.
She calls that “spiritual whitespace”.
I’ve also heard it referred to as “margin”. You know – that extra room on the side of a lined piece of paper that is supposed to stay empty. Have you noticed how that beautiful white, unfilled space on the page makes the whole thing more readable? That is exactly what whitespace is supposed to do – in art, in music, in life. As Bonnie tells us, if we don’t build it into our lives, if we don’t plan for it, if we don’t arrange our day to make sure it happens, if we don’t look for God along the way where He is showing up time and again, life will surely take over our agenda and our calendar and we will not naturally make room for Him in the process. We must slow down, we must have eyes to see, we must let our soul feel His stir.
If your soul needs rest and if you want to find ways to incorporate God into your every moment, then Finding Spiritual Whitespace is a must read for you. The book also has questions at the end of each chapter and journaling prompts, to further your study alone or with a friend(s).
Enjoy!
It was early spring; winter was finally past with nicer weather here to stay. Not wanting to be inside any longer, I was anxious to get "out there" and start clearing up the gardens around our house. One sloping bank in particular was a mess of weeds and downed limbs, as well as being home to mounds of leaves from the previous fall. My husband had planted tall spikes of forsythia along the upper edge of the bank, and I was eager to free the budding branches so eventually they could bloom in all their glory.
I attacked the overgrowth with gusto. I pulled, tugged, threw to the side, cleared and pruned to my heart's content. Happy with my progress, I was almost to the end of my crusade when a spot of color caught my eye. All movement stopped for a moment. I wasn't sure what I was seeing because it was nestled so deep in the underbrush. Only after I had a chance to move the surrounding debris was I able to see the source of the color - the first forsythia bloom of the season.
I stood there in awe. This perfect beauty, produced from the branch that had been buried beneath the muck and the mire. Flower bursting forth from the limb that had been denied all but a little light. Apparently, the one with the most junk dumped on it blooms first.
Sounds like something out of Life 101.
We all have weights bearing down on us in our lives; no one escapes that fact. Some come for a season or a time and then leave; others make their nests in our days and roost. This overgrowth, this debris, these heartaches and pressures and unwanted circumstances that threaten to bury us and squeeze out the light in our lives - they don't come to weigh our heart down for no reason. God allows them into our lives to help us to grow, to flourish, to bloom. We usually don't recognize them as beneficial fertilizer (because we're too busy trying to make them go away), but God knows they are exactly what our soul needs in order to produce the sweet blossoms that represent Him changing a life.
Life exists under the mess. It's there for a reason. It's the mess that provides the nutrients for our growth.
So keep calm and bloom on.
Happy Monday! And, for being a Monday, this is one is filled with fun news!
The awesome online "beach house" for women,
(in)courage, is having registration for their new and existing small groups
today. You won't want to miss being a part of one of these online communities - they are resources of encouragement and discipleship like no other.
There is a group for almost any taste and talent- you can check out the complete listing of what's available
here. Click on over and sign up for one!
(in)couraged to Explore the Writing Life. I am honored and blessed to be a part of this group; it's taking me outside of my comfort zone and it will connect me to other great women writers who share the passion of using their gifts and talents for Him. I desire to be an encourager for these women, and to learn from them as well as we share our lives and stories.
No matter what you love to do or are passionate about - they've got a group for it. And after you head on over there and sign up, I'd love if you came back and left a comment telling me which group you registered for so I can be the first to cheer you ON!
Now go on, get out of here and head over to (in)courage, and have a great Monday!
Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails.
Proverbs 19:21
This is so true. I get up in the morning with So. Many. Plans.
Plans in my calendar. Plans on my mind. More scribbled on paper.
Plans I alone have made, yet before God I can't help but acknowledge that only He knows my day. He has it planned. And His plans could very well not be mine.
Sometimes the sheer volume of tasks on My List overwhelms me and I think, "How will I get this all done?" I can feel my heart race and panic set in.
Truth is, often there really aren't enough hours in the day - for my plans.
The best advice I've read on priorities comes from the book Lies Women Believe and the Truth that Sets Them Free by Nancy Leigh DeMoss. In it she writes, " The Truth is all I have to do is the work God assigns to me. What a freedom it has been for me to accept that there is time for me to do everything that is on God's 'to do' list for my day, my week and my life!" I love that concept.
I'm betting that God's to-do list for me looks way different than mine. Think Mary vs. Martha. Yeah. That.
Plans. Lists. Pressures. Commitments. They all threaten to manipulate my day and thrust me headlong into my next 24 hours before I'm even ready. Why am I letting them dictate my schedule? Where is my priority? When will I remember that simply sitting at Jesus' feet with my Bible, a journal and some quiet time is not a waste of time, but lifeblood for my soul? I cannot think of a better investment in my day than to give Him a part of it. The moments I give Him are necessary in order to get other those other things done. (cue My List.)
Breathe soul, breathe. There is time enough in this day to do what God wants me to do. And the only way I'm going to figure out what those things are is
to ask Him.
to listen to Him.
to spend time with Him.
Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you as well.....
Sounds like a plan to me.
I'm not sure what I'm waiting for, but I do know that I'm waiting for something to be perfect before I write on this blog.
Maybe it's the topic.
Or the words.
It could be my mood that I'd like to be just right, but then again, maybe it's my hair. (which is far from perfect even though I just got a 60$ haircut. Don't ask. That's another blog post entirely.)
I decided to break the silence and stop waiting for perfect and just write. If I wait for perfect, the world is going to slip by without me because it's broken and in no way can manifest perfection.
So what's the good news in all of this? you ask.
It's that God doesn't wait for you to be perfect, doesn't wait for me to be perfect. He wants our imperfect hearts, lives and souls. It's so simple, really. He's already made us perfect through Jesus. No more waiting. It's done. And it doesn't get much perfect-er than that.
Go ahead. Jump into whatever it is that's calling your name long before perfect comes down the pike. Long before you've got your ducks in a row, planets aligned, checkbook balanced. Tomorrow those things won't be. Because, you see, in this world perfect never comes and stays.
Yet perfect, in Jesus Christ, is already here. And will last forever.
So what are you waiting for?
All my life, I’ve struggled with knowing what I want to be or what I want to do. It was never really a problem until recently, due to being on the other side of child rearing and “the busy years”. My search for significance is turning up empty a good bit of the time. Things come along occasionally in my life and I think , “Is this it?” or a month later, “Is THIS it?” I’m tired of asking that question and having “it” never turn out to be “IT”.
This all came to a head Saturday morning when I was reading a devotional and it warned against letting the emptiness in my soul, heart and mind be filled with these three things- self pity, self preoccupation, or giving up. That described me to a "t". Giving up is exactly what I’ve wanted to do when it comes to the area of writing. I have such a struggle in this area. The more I strive to be a writer, the less I feel like writing. In comparing myself to other women writers- which is strictly taboo, I know, but happens all the time- I feel instant defeat. I read a wonderful blog the other day, delightfully written, and the author wrote - “when I write, it’s fairly easy.” That makes me wonder about my own ability, because I often don’t feel like that. I sit here and imagine words just flowing out of her fingertips and it being effortless for her many times over. I’m sure this probably isn’t true. Reading her blog really put me over the edge, probably because she writes just like I’d like to write. And gets noticed for it. Ugh.
Comparison is a bear.
Reading that devotional, I realized I was all about self pity, self preoccupation and giving up, which is a place I never thought I would be. I cried my heart out to God. I told him I felt dried up, useless, and like I had nothing left to say, and that I’d been feeling like that for a long time. It wasn’t really a pity party, it was more of a cleaning out of my soul. I needed to say all these things to Him, because He is the only one who truly understands me and would clearly see the mess in my brain that I was trying to sort out. It unearthed some real deep seated feelings of never, ever really knowing what I wanted to do in life, from after college on. I graduated with a teaching degree with no desire to teach. And it just kept going from there.
So now when I think I’ve hit on “it” and then the “it” loses its appeal and seems to shrivel up and blow away, it makes me crazy. I unclenched my tight fists, held open my hands and said, “God, I give it all to you.” And I felt Him saying, “Beth, I want you. I want your heart. I don’t care if you write or play basketball or crochet for Me; I want YOU first and foremost.”
And I realized that is what I was lacking. My tears stopped and dried. I felt a much lighter load inside- in fact, no load at all. Only joy. My heart now had an answer – that He wanted to love me more if I would only let Him. He showed me that I was not spending the time with Him that I used to- when words flowed more easily and I always had a story to tell on my blog and when I was thrilled with my writing even if no one else was. I've recently complained that I’m dry for material, but I’m not spending any time in His word or really praying for Him to use me.
I think that may have something to do with it....
After having that meeting with God, as I was hanging up laundry, the beginning lines of this blog post came fast and furious into my head and I knew I had to go write them down. Like, right that minute. Primarily so that I wouldn't forget them, but also, because I sensed they were the beginnings of a story to tell. I practically ran to my laptop like I haven’t in months or maybe a year and started this raw writing, and poured out words without even thinking about it. It just all drained out of my fingertips, from my head, through my heart and onto the page.
I have discovered this - My connection with writing is directly proportional to my connection with God. (click to tweet this) I had never thought of that way before. But it makes total sense to me now. This still doesn’t mean fame, fortune, recognition, a book deal or any attention whatsoever. But the way I was driven to write this piece is the way I want to feel again. It's actually the passion that I was missing more than the writing. What I was longing for was the desire to write – that's what I so desperately wanted to return.And I believe it has, because I've recognized its source.
Thank you, God of the universe, for meeting me exactly where I was one Saturday morning, and speaking to my very need. You have shown me some incredible things that only you could have known I needed. It's all about You.
Trust was easy...when there was nothing going on.
When I began this trust journey in earnest, the mid-winter snowy doldrum days went by at a leisurely pace. At any moment, I could take inventory and come up with everything being just as I liked it -all grown children accounted for and in their proper spots in life, good jobs all around, great health and a warm, cozy home for the myriad of snowbound, cabin fever kinds of days.
It's quite simple to trust when everything is going my way.
But now the changes have started to come, and I realize my heart is anxious today because there are - and will continue to be - decisions and deadlines and calendar dates I won't have any control over, and the planning towards them puts my stomach in a knot because I must,
I MUST, see that these things work out perfectly or someone's life is going to be ruined.
Gee, you'd think I'm God, wouldn't you? Repeat after me - All control is only an illusion....
So here's my chance. I want to do things differently this trip on the worry-go-round. I want to put my trust in God into action and watch Him work, as opposed to fretting over all these circumstances and manipulating people and things to get details crossed off my list. I want to give over to Him all the things that are running through my mind at a constant exhausting pace, and watch Him produce the results.
The giving over is easy; it's the not-taking-back that's hard.When the deadline looming on the calendar sends me into a panic and decisions have to be made with no one making them and when I feel that wrong paths may be taken unless I step in and make it all right again, I am telling myself right now that I will need to spend more-than-usual time in prayer so that I can gain His perspective, experience His peace and be comforted by His presence.
This is a growth opportunity for me, if I'll only take it.
I want to get it right so that this trust thing becomes easier next time around.
And the time after that, and the time after that....
No, I did not just give birth.
Thank goodness.
But...a delightful little girl and three musical bears did get released on the Amazon and Barnes & Noble scene just this past weekend, so may I introduce -
What fun!
Seeing it on the bookshelves at B&N this past weekend was pretty much a thrill; being nestled between a Berenstain Bear's book and Eric Carle was the icing on the cake.
I
started this blog with the intention of it being the record of my journey toward picture book publication. That was February of 2009. Here I sit, exactly 5 years later to the month, with a picture of the cover of my published picture book.
It kind of blows me away.
This was a dream of mine that I didn't even realize existed. Not until I started working in the elementary school library in February of 2008 and became inundated and surrounded by picture books did my love of them surface completely to the point where I felt I needed to write one. At first I thought it was just me following a familiar pattern; typically, I have a hard time sitting back and just observing or enjoying things that I come across. If it's out there and possible, I either want to teach it, sing it, lead it, write it, or speak about it. I'm a front row and on stage kind of gal that usually bites off more than she can chew and gets rather ahead of herself and overcommitted.
So, I figured this could be more of the same. It's not enough for me to just enjoy picture books; no, I need to write one.
And for whatever reason, this time it took. Things began to happen that I couldn't possibly have orchestrated or predicted. The key element was that I met
Corey Rosen Schwartz online and her generous offer of collaboration worked for both of us and here we are.
I have spent time recently focusing on dreams of mine that haven't worked out. The frustration comes, the questioning, the wondering why. Then I come and sit down and write about this and see the uncanny timing, the way God put me exactly where I needed to be when I needed to be there (without any help from me; He's really quite talented, you know), and the direction the past 5 years have taken, and I think "wow". Why am I lamenting what hasn't happened when this has?
I am thankful that this event is a part of the story of my life. I am thankful that it happened. And many thanks to you, too, for your continual encouragement and support that I felt all along the way.
Onward and upward....
(photo credit - Jeff Goins' blog post)
My life is so simple here.
I just read Jeff Goin's
post from Uganda. What an amazing story, what an amazing place. And here I sit in my lovely heated home, with electricity that is always on, water that always runs, toilets that always flush (I hope), and a closet full of clothes to choose from. I am so blessed.
As a matter of fact, yesterday, my arm hurt from carrying too many groceries at once up the front steps.
Talk about a First World problem. Sheesh.
Jeff's post transported me to another part of the world where life is hard. I've been over there- past Africa, all the way to India. Conditions are similar; cultures are vastly different. Everyone should have to take a trip like that at one point in their life, because it's good to get "out there" and see some of the rest of the world. By the same token, it's hard to know how to live differently when we come "back here" and are forced back into our comfortable lives, struggling to know how to make a difference. Prayer, of course, always helps and works and is best. God is in control of the entire world, every nation and country, so certainly speaking to Him about what we've seen and encountered when we've been far from home is a pretty good idea.
Contributing financially is also an option. The trip that Jeff is on is connected with
Compassion International, and you can sponsor a child through that organization. That might be the best human option, because our monthly contribution can translate directly to helping a child. As he wrote,
"Despite how small $38/month may seem, it makes a tremendous difference in the life of a child. I saw the evidence today in the lives of slum children who now have school uniforms and books and a hope that defies circumstances."I believe the key is to provide what we can now for the children, for they are that country's adults of tomorrow.
It stands to reason that by reaching the children, we are reaching the future.
(photo credit - Jeff Goins' blog post)
I'm linking up today to Trusting Tuesdays at The Messy Middle, part of the OneWord365 project.
A very smart gal named Amy Young gathered those of us with the word "trust" as our One Word for 2014 and invited us to join her the Third Tuesday of every month with our posts. This way we can see how we're doing with being faithful to the word we chose.....good move, Amy!
I find it interesting that even though I've walked the trust road for only 21 days, God has gradually turned up the heat in areas where I need to trust Him. In the beginning, it was similar to using flash cards; He and I went through the easy ones first. I started out simply trusting Him with a person, a situation, or a relationship. Common, ordinary, everyday scenarios where I just take a moment, breathe out a prayer of "I trust you God with so-and-so," inhale deeply with renewed resolve and press on. Granted, it feels good to leave those things and people at His feet and let Him carry the burden. There were times I had to remind myself not to take back the burden for my so-and-so's; they were now God's to handle. I like this trust thing, I thought; it's working for me. And it was. It is. I have experienced a newfound freedom.
And God must have said, "Good!", because right after that little victory, we moved swiftly along.
As a matter of fact, I think we jumped directly to the back of the flash cards. To the hard ones.
Let me set the scene for you. I'm rarely sick. Hardly a cold, nary a cough, and I only use the occasional tissue. I'm not a plow-through-I'll-just-go-to-work-anyway-but-I'm-really-sick kind of person. Not at all. I just don't usually pick up germs that have me down for more than a few hours or a day.
But this past week has had me daily running through a strange array of physical symptoms; none of them life threatening or scary, all of them annoying and mind-consuming. Like, "I can't stop focusing on them" consuming.
God knew where I needed direct training in the area of trusting Him. And He brought it.
The cherry on top came yesterday when I was faced with a new symptom. And this one brought pain. I was more wondering what to do than I was concerned; sometimes the questioning of whether you're a hypochondriac or not is what's actually the most disconcerting. Do I call the doctor again? Or do I wait it out and hope to get better unaided, even when a snowstorm is coming and if I don't get an appointment today it's going to be a while? The not-knowing-my-next-move was making me crazy. I hadn't been to the doctor's office in over a year, and here I was looking at making my second appointment in a week.
So I called. And I received a healthy recommendation to stay put, eat more yogurt and buy a costly over the counter product.
My gut told me that was not going to do a blooming thing for how I was feeling.
But wasn't I supposed to trust the doctor? Was it right for me to tell her she was wrong? And where did trusting God in all this come into play?
After an hour or so, the nagging in my brain (God....is that You?) told me I had to take action. Again I dialed the now familiar number and this time made an appointment asking to be seen (thereby disregarding the doctor's phoned-in advice). It was the right thing to do; I knew it immediately. I had taken a step and listened to my body, mind and soul and what they were telling me to do.
And I realized in so doing, I had listened to God.
This was new. This was trust with a twist. It wasn't a simple, "God, I give you this situation/person/relationship" and then walking away. This time, trusting God meant listening to His voice in the midst of my confusion, and realizing He was leading me if only I'd stop long enough to notice.
Good thing I went to the doctor's. I did in fact need to be seen, and the snow did in fact come. A lot of it.
And in it all I learned a new way to trust - by being quiet and listening. And then stepping out in obedience to what He's telling me to do.
Next flash card.....
I'm having trust issues.
I thought I had it all solved the other night when I had a situation on my mind and I whispered a "Yes God, I'll trust you..." as I dozed off.
There. I had trusted. Once and done; good to go.
No one told me I'd have to sign up for this daily, hourly.
Another opportunity to trust came to visit about midnight last night. This time it involved a slight medical issue. Very slight, mind you, but when it's happening to you in the middle of a Saturday night with doctor's offices closed on Sundays and the thoughts of " How am I going to deal with this until Monday", it seems rather ominous and concerning.
And does not easily invite sleep, but is quite conducive to tossing and turning.
After my 2 hour nap this afternoon because of my lack of any meaningful rest last night, the deeper content to what had actually transpired became clear to me. I had been given another opportunity to trust and instead of actually doing that, I took to fretting and worrying and the only prayer I had uttered was just to be delivered from how I was feeling so that I could once again wake up to my rose-y uninterrupted life where things didn't usually go awry.
The farthest thing from my mind at midnight last night was trust; it was more akin to fear.
Trust of course doesn't mean that God will fix things they way I think they should be fixed. It doesn't mean He'll remove discomfort or uncertainty so that I never have to deal with something unpleasant. It certainly isn't a guarantee that things will go my way.
It's a certainty that He knows best and is doing that best in my life, no matter what "best" looks like to me.
Things happen and I see my life through a microscope, but God sees with binoculars.
I may not know all the answers, but I can have all the trust.
That's all He asks of me.
Seven days into my word "trust" for 2014, and I've got a situation already. Gee, that didn't take long.
Throughout yesterday nagging bits of worry tugged at my brain, but with busy-ness going on around me I ignored the catcalls of what was on my mind.
The trouble with that is eventually every day gets quiet.
Last night as I tried to fall asleep, I found myself staring into darkened space, my heart heavy. I was plagued by sadness for the situation that was threatening to overtake and plunge me into concern.
And then I heard it. Inside my head. A simple question that challenged.
"Is this what trusting looks like?"
I paused. The moment was here. Already. I thought I had until at least March 1 before I was going to have to really do this.
I had a choice to make. Was I going to trust, like I said I would when I had nothing pressing that I needed to trust God with, or was I going to lay here and lament my poor estate and hope that lack of sleep would solve everything?
The room was still dark. The air was still silent. The question still loud.
Was this what trusting looked like?
My answer came quicker than I might have liked, because I knew the answer all too well.
No. This isn't what trusting looks like. Not even a little bit.
So I did what I said I would do. I took a moment in the dark and prayed, "Okay God. I trust that You have this, even this..... something that I'd rather worry about take care of myself. You take it and handle it; I trust you." And with that, the burden shifted. It was out of my hands and into His. Nothing had changed about the situation, but my responsibility for solving it was gone.
Trust - it sounds easy to do, but it's hard to pry away the gripping fingers that hold onto things we'd rather keep in our care. Trust is a choice, as are most things in life. If I choose it, trust brings freedom instead of weightiness, liberation instead of bondage, release instead of restriction.
Sounds like the right choice to me.
Snow came softly last night. It was beautiful to wake up this morning not only to find the storm over, but the sun shining.
Lucy was pleased as punch to tag along with my husband to clear all manner of snow- from cars, driveway, sidewalks and patio. She never left his side, and was a faithful companion.
Meanwhile, with schools closed and the rest of the house still asleep, I found myself again with the gift of time. Time to photograph, time to putter, time to write, time to think. That seems to be a recurring gift to me from God so far in 2014. During a stressful and wrung-out December, at one point I distinctly remember feeling that I never had the opportunity to retreat; I was never alone. I never had any time to simply gather my thoughts, run mentally through my plans, organize the chaos in my head or, just think for any extended period of time.
I was exhausted.
Ever since that little epiphany (you know - that wonderful feeling you get when you finally put your finger exactly on the problem), it was as if God heard me loud and clear, and while He knew my problem all along, He was waiting for me to realize it so that I could see how desperately I need downtime and alone-time in my life. And more than that, time with Him - to refresh and refill my weary soul.
Where does that time come from in a busy life? How do I make sure days don't go by where the time slithers so easily away? The answer is that minutes, hours, must be carved out, planned for, penciled in the calendar if necessary. On the other hand, an opportunity may come surprisingly, quietly, like snow cold covering frozen ground in the night. I need to be watchful for and seek out those times - like this morning- that are nudges from Him saying, "Here is my love gift to you. Take it. Spend time with Me."
I am not of use, service, or refreshment to others if my well-soul is dry. I cannot give what I do not have. Filling my own cavernous need for Him is something that needs to be a priority. I have to have something to give if I want God to use me.
There'll be a change in my life moving forward. It will be about taking the time. About letting God fill me. It'll be looking for His gifts and absorbing His love.
It will be time well spent.
A new year, mentally, provides such a clean slate. There's certainly nothing wrong with that; it's contagious, healthy and human nature. I believe we need this once every 365 days.
Interestingly enough, I don't feel this way every time a new month rolls around. I rarely get this determined and organized on March's Eve or August 31st. Kind of wish I did....
I enjoy choosing one word that will be the focus idea of the days ahead. Recently, when I was walking the dog and my stomach was in knots over many complex situations we have going on and I was wondering how I was going to handle everything, neon lights went on in my head that simply spelled out, "Trust God."
I was surprised that immediately the thought relaxed me. My stomach literally loosened and my fear took a downturn, right then and there while the dog was still walking.
Is it really that simple? I thought. Just trusting God with all the giants in my life that compete for my attention and drain my mind and soul?
I couldn't answer that question with whole hearted definitiveness at that moment, but the way my body physically reacted to the thought of placing everything in His hands was something I couldn't deny. Mentally I just needed to catch up.
That became my word for 2014. Trust. (Note - The antonym for that word being Control, of which I have none but like to think I do.)
Trusting is so much harder, because it means I need to put more in God's hands and work out less on my own. It means I will have to wait more. It means I'll need to be patient. It means things probably will not won't go as I have planned.
It means I can relax. He's got whatever it is that comes my way. Trusting God is about my faith growing, because as I see Him work, I only long to trust Him more.
Looking forward to a 2014 filled with trust in a heavenly Father who always has my back, and is always there for me.
As an assistant librarian, I run the cash register at the book fair in our library. Elementary students come in to the fair with cold hard cash, starry eyes wanting to buy it all. When they’ve made their choices and come up to me to purchase their books, their money comes in usually one of two forms. Sometimes I am handed a wad of bills wrapped so tightly that I have to forcibly straighten them out with the heel of my hand so they’ll lay flat in the cash drawer. Other students have clearly shaken empty their piggy bank just for the occasion, which allows all manner of change to spill across the counter as they pay for their SpongeBob book. It takes all kinds.
One particular day, I had quite a line of three-foot high customers waiting to buy their items. I noticed that I was running out of cash in the drawer quickly. It seemed that everyone needed change that morning. I felt a little rise of panic with each transaction because I knew that soon, the register's drawer would be empty and I would be stranded. With an ever impatient line of small shoppers, I couldn't exactly stroll around school looking for small bills and coins. I was going to run out of money long before I ran out of customers.
I had almost made it through when one of the last shoppers came up to the register. I held my breath as I rang up the sale and watched the empty cash drawer spring open. I was hoping against hope that he wouldn’t need change. But, to pay for his three dollar book, he placed a crumpled ten dollar bill in my hand. It sounds crazy, but my eyes welled up for a moment because all the money in the register was gone, and I had no other resource to draw from. I needed seven dollars, and I had absolutely nothing to give this little boy looking at me with hand held out, waiting for his change that I had promised him.
At that very moment, another student burst forth out of the crowd. Breathless and excited, he threw a book on the counter and said, “Here, I want to buy this!” Such inspirational words from a second grader. With that, he produced a Ziploc bag – the preferred wallet of every young child – and shoved it toward me.
I saw quarters. Lots of them.
I started to hope.
The price of the book he wanted to buy? Seven dollars.
The total of the quarters he gave me? Seven dollars.
The amount of change that I needed for that other student…..? Seven dollars.
Those quarters never made it into the cash drawer. Incredulous at the miracle playing out in front of me, I simply transferred the beautiful shiny circles from one student to the other. Help had arrived at the moment I needed it, from a place I wouldn't have expected it.
But I sensed a deeper truth. One that related not only to cash flow but to life in general.
If I hadn’t been in need, I couldn’t have seen the provision.
If I'm never without, I'll never recognize the Source of my supply.
None of us want to be there, in the desperate need, not knowing where the next whatever-it-may-be will come from. Being in need is unattractive, uncomfortable, undesirable. Yet sometimes I must to get to the end of myself, my resources, my abundance in order to be reminded how God provides.
Then my eyes are opened, making me aware. I take time to recall inspirational Bible verses that I’ve read, assuring me that God always supplies all I need.
Then I bow my heart in humble thankfulness, being rescued once again.
Then I get to see, really see, the miracle that comes in quarters.
The other day I saw a sign like this while I was driving. The surface I was currently on was fine. No problems or potholes; just plain, even pavement, the way a road is supposed to be. If it weren’t for the sign, I’d have had no idea that the consistently smooth surface touching my treads was about to quickly end.
The first thought that hit me was, “Wow, wouldn’t it be nice if we could have a sign like this appear in life when things are about to turn on a dime?” How handy would that be? Wouldn’t it be helpful if we could at least get a decent warning on a bright yellow piece of metal when things were about to go south?
But we don’t. The rough stuff comes when we least expect it; like when things are going fine, or the day is really great. Then out of left field…comes the pain. The heartache. The unexpected twist of a plan.
With no sign to warn us of trouble.
Jesus does tell us there will be trouble. It’s an unavoidable circumstance in this thing called life. Sometimes I cause my own trouble, sometimes it happens to me. But however it gets here, get here it does and then it’s mine to deal with. Mine and God’s. This is why my relationship with Him is so important. Without Him, a rough road is just that; uncomfortable parts of my journey that I must simply endure until the pavement gets smooth again.
But with Him, the rough road becomes a classroom. He can use the broken pavement, the potholes, the uneven surfaces to teach me things that I need to learn, if I’ll allow myself to grow and be changed instead of just complaining that this is making for a very difficult ride.
Then one day…….I’ll find the surface under my feet sure and solid again. He knows I’m ready to continue on.
And I breathe deep.
Construction’s over.
For now.
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