The greatest acceptance letter ever received was inked in blood while hanging from a tree. When occasions arise, and I am teaching my children that truth, I find that I need to remember it too.♥️
…meanwhile, Puerto Rico is devastated and may not have electricity for 6 plus months. They along with residents of the Virgin Islands, Texas, Louisiana and Florida have lost everything. Recovery and rebuilding could take decades in some areas.
Every two minutes somewhere in America someone is sexually assaulted. Human trafficking is a thriving travesty. Five to six children die each day as a result of abuse. America’s numbers of homeless children and adults are in the millions. Astounding! Hundreds of school children in my city alone have no food on the weekends. Every day scores of our people become widowed, terminally ill, addicted, lost, orphaned, homeless, unemployed, hungry and the list goes on.
Anxiety and depression is at an all time high even among our country’s children.
Pornography is no longer a taboo topic, because it is a common place epidemic ravaging men, women and children. Yes! Children.
Everywhere I turn I am tempted to grab a quick fix, whether it be food, fantasy or Facebook, to numb, deaden or make tolerable the pain all around me. We are a society of self-medicators, myself included.
I have to look at myself and ask, where am I spending my energy, time and resources? Am I busy complaining about the problems or contributing to the solutions?
I reserve the right to protest peacefully, but I also acknowledge that I was ransomed the right to pray personally and that alone can accomplish more than any demonstration.
I also regard the luxury (yes, it is a privilege afforded to me by many selfless men and women in uniform!) to respectfully disagree, but may I always remember that unless I am putting my concerns into productive action, I am merely a purposeless reaction void of favorable fruit.
Here I am Lord. Send me. Use me.
Sanctification is my constant companion. She moves me to surrender. She both slays and satisfies me. At times sanctification guts me. She greets and meets with me like a passage in the Psalms, crying out in pain and concluding in praise. Nevertheless, because I know her, and Who she comes from, I am at peace saying to her, It is well with me.
I am a tremendously deep feeler in a terribly fallen world. I experience your success and your suffering, your communication, verbal and non-verbal, your actions and your inactions. I endure all your raw edges and finely buffed emotions. I sense your masks because I have worn them as well, but I long to see your soul. I carry your praises and your pain, and that is why I laugh a lot but frequently lament, too. Some people would say I am a mess. Some days I say, I am a mess. That is ok because it is in the sediment of tribulation that I discover significance when I have anchored my eyes, ears, and heart towards the eternal message that I know is always there. Right now the world sits raw and heavy upon my heart. I feel like I am in a tug of war between the desire to surrender to the sadness or continue standing despite its presence. There is only one choice for me; I know that. But, the fight is real! Thank you, Father, for your promises that endure all storms, whether we are standing well or weary.
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10
“I am leaving you with a gift–peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid. John 14:27
Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28
Earlier today I was standing at my kitchen windows, and I noticed that the flowers on the patio looked dead. They were shriveled up, dry, drooping and turning brown. I feared they were beyond saving, but I wasn’t ready to give up on my beautiful pots that bring so much color and joy to the back of my house.
We were out of town over the weekend, and the plants did not get watered. That quickly they turned from standing at attention and beaming with vibrancy to a dull, dry, comatose slumber.
The reality is, I had been neglecting my plants a few days before we left, too. Family members were watering them, but they did not know that there is a vital process to watering flowers to keep them alive. Just putting the hose in a pot and letting the water run until it starts spilling over the top is not enough nourishment. Sure, the plants take in some water, but a lot is being lost by spilling over the pots and running off on the concrete.
I went out this afternoon in the shade of the eclipse, it was so cool, and I gave the plants what they desperately needed. Water! I worried it was too late, but I prayed and hoped to salvage them. I let the water run in the pots until I could see it at the top. Just before it would spill over, I removed the hose, let the water absorb fully, and then repeated the process, each time letting the water digest into the plant before adding more.
I was just sitting here thinking how much I am like those plants. I need to be watered to have life. My heart and mind demand, refreshing water. I need God’s Word, or I become like my plants, dry, droopy, slumping, and empty. Like my plants, I cannot just give myself a quick bolus of God’s word and expect a revival. I must have the discipline and patience to take some in and absorb and process it before I add more. If I am hasty and neglect that significant step, I gain very little because, like the plant water, the Word of God is going in my small brain too fast and just running out to be washed away by distractions.
I am thrilled to say, I looked out my window a few minutes ago, and my plants are standing tall and shining again. I am so thankful they were able to be saved. It is not too late for us either, friends. When we are feeling downcast, depressed, and exhausted, we just need to water our roots. It is amazing how spending time in The Word and letting it settle down deep changes our entire inner and outer appearance. It is a necessity for me, or otherwise, I am as lifeless as a dead flower that had no water.
Recently I was in a beautiful place surrounded by the sights and sounds of God’s creation. My children and husband were with me, and we drove up to a beautiful beach that had an area lined by ocean rocks as if to create a safe, swimming hole for would be snorkelers. I did not feel like getting in the water this particular morning, but my kids wanted to try snorkeling. It was their first time, and they were curious to see what they would find living just below the surface of the emerald blue water.
I found a shady spot on a hill with a peaceful picnic table that looked down over the majestic beach. I could not bring myself to leave the refuge of the picnic table, so I assured my children I would watch them from above and they could go ahead and snorkel. I watched as one child put on her equipment and swam off strong and smooth like a fish in its natural habitat. Then I sat and watched as my son, who has dyspraxia, struggled to get the mask, snorkel, and fins on. It felt like an eternity of him trying over and over again and not succeeding.
Eventually, he began putting his head in the water and trying to coordinate all the necessary steps to swim and breathe. He would lower his head into the water a minute and then come up for air, never mastering the required motor coordination skills needed to put it all together, the skills that just come naturally to most of us. My heart was bleeding as I watched. Tears filled my eyes telling the story of my hurt for him as they trickled down my face. I was rooting and praying for him but painfully witnessed him fail over and over again. I wanted to rescue him. Running to him and helping felt like the loving and natural thing to do, but I knew delivering him from his struggle was the worst thing I could do because he would quit trying and rely on me. Fixing the situation for my son would stunt his learning and crucial growth skills he needs to function in life. As much as I wanted to intervene, as heart-wrenching as it was to watch, I had to sit and silently pray for him and watch over him from above the water.
It occurred to me at that moment that this was such a picture of our walks with our Father. He looks down on us from above and often sees us struggling, sometimes drowning. In our estimation, it feels as if he is ambivalent to our struggles and suffering.
God seems silent, but His silence does not equate to stagnation.
Just as I was watching over my child, He is looking down and watching us, His children. Our Heavenly Father is supporting us and working outcomes that are for our ultimate good. Many times, though, He does not provide an immediate and noticeable rescue or His relief looks like more struggle and pain to us. We don’t have the whole picture. We feel like we are drowning, but God is there. His heart must hurt as a Father like mine did as a mother watching his children struggle, but He knows just what we need.
Sometimes no rescue is the best rescue.
As we drove away from that beautiful place this thought occurred to me, my child didn’t fail. Sure, he did if it I measured it by what I saw, but in God’s economy, the only failure is the one you didn’t trust Him in. Be encouraged, friends! God is looking down on you. He sees you, and He has you. When it feels like He is letting you drown, remember this, “All that is given is necessary. All that is withheld was not.” ~Timothy Keller
You are loved.❤️
Large trees in snowy climates are designed to drop their branches when the weight of falling snow gets too heavy for them to bear. It is like a dance planned by a Director that is out of the trees control. The Choreographer knows exactly when the branches need to release pressure so they don’t break. Our tears are a lot like that, also. They are not on our timetable, and that can be both frustrating and sometimes awkward. Like the beautiful tree branches, though, we were designed by God in such a way to let go of building burdens so we may bend but not break. Isn’t it amazing that our Father was so attentive to every little detail, even the timing of our tears? He crafts exactly when they will fall so He will be there to capture them all. He is holding you amidst your burdens today, friends. He is the Creator and the Caretaker of every last tear. Rest in His arms today. You are loved.❤️
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.
Sometimes saying it is well with my soul guts us to our core, even still, we can say they will be done. It is not well because our circumstances are favorable, but because our Savior is faithful, and we have experienced His character enough in the past that we trust Him with the present. Lord Jesus, present us a faith that is constant, not circumstantial. Sometimes we are The Israelites, needing to see to believe. As we walk through the hills and valleys, help us remember you are the same yesterday, today and forever, (Hebrews 13:8), and when that truth reigns in our hearts, we can persevere. Whatever you are confronting today, friend, I pray you keep believing not in what you see but in Whom you know. You are loved.
What are you chasing today that is seemingly bigger, better, prettier or more satisfying than what you have?
I have written about our dog, Paisley, before. She teaches me valuable lessons when I am paying attention. I often bring her a new toy, shinier, bigger and better toys. When she first gets them, she is elated. She plays with them non-stop for a few days, and then they suddenly lose all their mystery, charm and satisfaction, only to sit untouched in her toy basket until the next better one comes along. The cycle again repeats itself with each new toy.
I am a lot like that, too. The world offers many distractions that capture my eyes and shift me from an eternal focus to an earthly one. I become an exhausted runner, chasing, chasing, chasing. Every time I attain what I am chasing, that deep soul ache is temporarily satisfied, until I realize the ache is still there and that next “better thing” did not come through for me either.
What I have learned after years of running is that I do not need to be running towards something, but to Someone. If I am not chasing a deeper relationship with Jesus, I will be chasing something all my life that has a short return and fleeting satisfaction.
Life is a marathon, and I do not want to get to the finish line with only shiny medals that will rust and turn to dust. I desire to cross that line falling into the arms of the One, who will always satisfy, eternally provide and forever be at my side.
What are you running after today, the world or the Word?