Yesterday our family set out on what was supposed to be a short hike. It turned into four-miles. I realize for a lot of you that is short. Not for me, especially in muddy, rocky, uphill terrain, with altitude as a contributing barrier. As I was struggling through a large uphill span of our hike, I was noticing all the ways nature mimics life. The trials of that riddled trail were a parable of life. There are times in life when we are sucking air just to survive, and there are times we are enjoying the view. Struggles are often long and appear as if they will never end. Giving up or giving in becomes an attractive option. Fears are frequent and real. The bends and turns are prone to placing us in barren places rather than beautiful spaces. We have this great hope, though, that a great joy awaits, so we pick ourselves up and continue walking. When we experience those moments where we catch our breath and enjoy the beauty around us, we appreciate them more because we know the effort and intention it took to get there. The experience gives us a fresh supply of endurance for our trek knowing those encounters are just preludes to something greater. The walk goes on. We cycle through stages on a spectrum somewhere between worn and wonderful. It is within the worn corners we grow in determination and perseverance. In the wonderful places, we cultivate grateful hearts, and our eyes begin to see the fountains of grace poured into our pilgrimage. Life is a necessary combination of both, the broken and beautiful so that we remain steadfast with our eye on the ultimate reward ahead-Home. Yesterday for me, the grand reward was the sight of our car. As we walk the path of our eternal home, though, knowing for certain the joy that awaits us is sustenance for the trails of our hike. Keep walking friends. If you believe the Bible to be true, there is unimaginable and everlasting gratification at the end of your journey. Hebrews 12:1~Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.
Tag: grace
Grace and Grief
Disrupted dreams. How often does life turn out different than our embellished expectations? It is a steep road to navigate when we are holding the shattered pieces of our “pretty” pictures in the palms of our bleeding hands. Life is unfair and not partial to my dreams. I have been struggling lately with the temptation to shut down. Close the door. Close it tight on the hope that offers me the glorious burden of present realization versus rejection.
There is only one hope that stands eternal, and that is not the one that resides in this world built around unsafe scenarios. It is a future hope, secured by the gift of everlasting life obtained by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. But, here, now, I battle to not close myself off to my desires while striking a balance of preventing rainbows from becoming requirements. It is an unpredictable place to be where peace becomes precarious.
The challenge is leaning into life with open hands softly cupped around pliant pages of immaculate intentions.
It. Is. Hard. I am stubborn, born of flesh that efficiently demands fruition. My hands are sticky. Like the freshly spun strands of spider silk, arrangements cling to me, and I wrestle to break free. But when I am standing amidst the shards of well-crafted storylines, reality reminds me that it is a harsh and unforgiving rival. And so I come to a crossroads where I peer at the scandalous hand of hope or the hostile hike of desensitizing from a world that supplies both grace and grief.
Father, you know me and all my intricacies. Remind me that you knitted me together, every fiber when the shame of a not-all-together life creeps in. Help me to open my hands and my heart so that my mind is mailable to your purposes, not my pursuits. There is nothing in me that is strong, good or steadfast except You. When I remember that truth, I no longer answer to the copious condemnation that shadows me. I had not envisioned life or an impending empty nest without the presence of my mom. I am moment by moment dependant on you to whisper that you are with me and there will be mana for every step but only available for the moment in which I stand. The future lends anxiety. Please help me to be an occupant of the present. Remnants of regret litter the past. Flood my heart and mind with the memories of precious times. This day, this moment is where You meet me, and although there is future grace, I was never permitted to stray there. Enable me to stand in the two faces of hope; free to smile, free to laugh, live and love not because I deserve it, but because You secured it.
To hide is not to honor You. To thrive is a testimony to You. May I remember that all the days of my life.
Sincerely, a daughter who desperately needs and loves You.
Within this shadow box is a special and tangible reminder of my beautiful mom. I will treasure it forever.
Channel of Grace
So many times it is the perceivably bad things that are the good things we need to move us from one place in life to another, to get unstuck so to speak. Happiness and contentment, while they are right and desirable, do not necessarily augment the deepest places of our souls that are waiting to be enriched by the fruits of something far more harsh but holy.
Desperation is a channel of grace.
That sounds counter-cultural and even scandalous, but it is true. If you find yourself there, desperate for relief, change, movement, desperate to know that your suffering will end, take heart, friend.
The gift of desperation is given by God to draw you closer to Him so that you may know and trust Him more fully.
In understanding Him, we better understand who we are in His image, not our own. You are loved.
Remember The Wildflowers
Has anyone by fussing before the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? If fussing can’t even do that, why fuss at all? Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They don’t fuss with their appearance—but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the wildflowers, most of them never even seen, don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? ~Luke 12:27-28 (The Message)
Growing in grace teaches us that it is not the color of one’s skin, but the content of their soul that makes our world beautiful. Under all the facades, past all the tips and tricks to hide what we deem unsightly, God crafted a heart purposed to reflect the love of The Almighty.
Aging is a beautiful thing when we look beyond the ordinary markers to behold the extraordinary meanings.
Wrinkles are the troughs eroded by tears and settled by smiles. They map out our life right there in plain sight, telling the world of a life song threefold. Once a man, twice a child so the circle goes. And in the process of completion wisdom waltzes in and shares her instruction.
Bruises, and scars are signs of a life lived, loved and lost. They are medals of honor that portray the stories that sometimes made us laugh, and other times made us cry. Each one, a monument of rising to the mountaintop or descending into the valley. But we know life is both hard and holy.
Every year, a new number. A new season. A new calling. We all want to behold burning bush moments, but God. Sometimes He places us right in the midst of life’s mundane messes and asks us, live here. Make a difference here with all your scars and scrapes, not in the middle of momentous miracles and before millions of eyes, but among measureless mercies and man’s desperate cries.
Wherever you are friend, remember the wildflowers. You may be one dancing in the wind on a beautiful hillside for all the world to see, or maybe you are tucked into a safe corner disguised by many. Both coordinates are needed and necessary. Be about the business of Kingdom building. The harvest is plentiful in the majestic and the mundane. You were picked and planted to thrive right where you are by the Hands that molded the world. Thrive wildflower. Be alive.
At The Foot of The Cross
Every day I must wake up and remember who I am in Christ- loved, accepted, redeemed, worthy and righteous. When I forget or mistake my identity, and I often do, I spend my day resolving, grasping, controlling and exhausting myself trying to secure that which is already mine, procured by the sacrifice of my Savior not the striving of myself. Jesus did die for my sins and yours, but He also forfeited everything to impart His perfect record to us. I can work so hard attempting to achieve that which I only need to surrender and receive. Friend, this week I am praying for the grace to leave our debts, failures, and insufficiencies nailed to the cross where they have been rectified. There is a shady spot waiting for us at the foot of the cross.
Jesus did die for my sins and yours, but He also forfeited everything to impart His perfect record to us. I can work so hard attempting to achieve that which I only need to surrender and receive. Friend, this week I am praying for the grace to leave our debts, failures, and insufficiencies nailed to the cross where they have been rectified. There is a shady spot waiting for us at the foot of the cross.
There is a shady spot waiting for us at the foot of the cross.
You are loved!♥️
Purpose Amidst Imperfection
Nestled amidst the sunrise of a fresh week and all the promise it holds is an ever faithful reminder of my inadequacy. I am presently, but peacefully aware that I got more wrong than right last week, and that will surely be my truth this week as well.
My keen sense of insufficiency poses a different purpose for me now, though. Growing in grace teaches me that it is no longer about striving for perfection only to be frustrated, but seeking purpose amidst my imperfection only to be furthered.
It is an incongruent truth that on the other side of our failures is an intention designed for our prosperity.
Understanding that falling down is not a shameful thing, but a sacred tool is the genesis of praise. Praise opens the door and welcomes gratitude right into our hearts.
When gratitude is our guest, we see through all the heavy right into the heart of the holy, and joy becomes a source of our strength.
This week, friend, I pray you have eyes to see and ears to hear all the beauty that your brokenness beholds, and your heart will sing, it is good and it is well with my soul.
You are loved.❤️
Footprints
A few days ago I left my footprints in the sand. I was walking in search of Jesus, reaching for his nail scarred hand. This countenance, a plea and praise on my heart did land. When I wander forth from you, Lord and my veers, direct me back till Your Light in my view appears. May my steps always follow your trail for that is the only way my flesh will fade and allow Your Spirit to prevail. You are the Light of the world. You shine in the heavens, on the waters and among the tiniest grains of sand. There is not one spot under the sun that Your light can be undone. May your glow always lead me to look up and ahead, never back where my transgressions in your sight are dead. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for dying for me; it is only because of you that my blind eyes are allowed to see. When I needed a friend it is you who has always been there; and because I required a Savior, it was you who my sins did bear. It is finished you did cry, so that I may live with you forever, never to die.
Peace
I have been on a mission lately to identify and minimize or eradicate the things in my life that compromise my peace. When I started putting ink to this stuff, I was surprised just how exhaustive my list is, and I have not unearthed it all yet. One thing that was at the top of my list is the bad habit I have perfected of assigning thoughts and feelings to other people. Not many things steal my peace like this destructive practice. You know what I am talking about, right? When a friend does not acknowledge a text or email promptly, I can easily allow my thoughts to sabotage me. My internal dialogue goes something like this,
“She must be mad at me.” or
“Maybe she didn’t like what I said.”
I have found that the overwhelming majority of the time I. Am. Wrong.
There are hundreds of scenarios like this that vandalize my sanity. It is plain ridiculous. When I get honest, though, it is much more about an unwise behavior. There is a deeper root to the problem. I want people to be pleased with me. I want people to like me. I am a forever recovering people pleaser. There should be a support group for this kind of thing! I am no expert but perhaps going even deeper this is about the sinful pride that lurks in my heart that I need to pray for the grace to see and uprooted daily?
In his short, but stirring book, The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness, Tim Keller says this;
“People sometimes say their feelings are hurt. But our feelings can’t be hurt! It is the ego that hurts – my sense of self, my identity. Our feelings are fine. It is my ego that hurts.” “Walking around does not hurt my toe unless there is already something wrong with it .” Well, a big ‘ole ouch and Amen to that!
When my identity, worth, value, and placidity are rooted in people, I am in trouble. There will be no peace in my heart. I continually have to put on the attire of Christ’s atonement that sealed all those things for me at a very high cost. Otherwise, I am simply not living free in the abundance of my Father, but a prisoner to the perceptions and permission of people.
Prone to Wander
There was a time when I thought I was a good person, (notice the emphasis on I). Growing in grace has enabled me to see with my eyes, understand with my mind and confess with my mouth that there is nothing good about me alone except the holy, blameless, good and loving God who dwells within me. Sometimes even my best intentions are peppered with pride. It is when I remember my utter depravity that I became free to rejoice in The Lord’s unparalleled adequacy. Lord Jesus, I confess I am a mess. I am prone to wander, clothing myself in filthy rags and seeking perfection, approval, and satisfaction from the false God’s of idolatry. Grant me the blessing of quick detection and correction when my heart turns from you, Father. At the end of every road of obstinance is death; while the path of obedience leads to life. May your truth be my compass so that all glory shines on you, my Savior, not myself. Amen.
Seasons of Change
Father you know we mamas are creatures who crave constancy not change. When it comes to our children, our hearts are troubled by the trials of transition. Tis the season of approaching change, God. Soon our babies will be starting kindergarten, entering high school, arriving for their senior year and launching off to college. As our lives are fluctuating, and our familiar becomes foreign, our normal becomes new and our usual becoming unknown, it feels like permanent pieces of our lives will be changed forever. They will never be as they were again. It is the dying of a chapter that is so deeply rooted and known that it is painful to imagine how life will look moving forward. We are challenged to hold gently and fondly to what was so that we may courageously embrace what now is. Give us the grace to be more than conquerors in all these circumstances of change, Father. May the faith that lives in our hearts be bigger than the fear that lurks in our minds. Bless our children. Insulate each and every one of them from head to toe under your wing of protection. Remind us mamas that we have raised or children to run with determination not retreat in doubt. There will be trails, and there will be triumphs. May we all remember that disguised in all our disappointments are Your Appointments. Give us the grace to not look for life somewhere under the sun, but in someone above it-You, Lord Jesus. Amen