God Works While We Wait

This was the theme of week one of Waiting Here For You - God works while we wait. It is a beautiful thought, isn't it? The God of this universe is at work - orchestrating something wonderful, beyond our imagination. I forget this. I am so easily distracted from the truth as I focus inward on myself and my own struggles. 

Look up. God is working.

It is comforting and sets my heart at ease as I remember that while I wait God is literally moving heaven and earth to work out His perfect purpose for me and for this world. Not a moment is wasted. And most certainly not for a moment am I forgotten or left behind. There is nothing, no piece of bad news, no struggle, no hurt or loss that can change the course of His working. 

"But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, so that He might redeem those who were under the law and give them the adoption as sons of the Father." {Galatians 4:4&5}

This passage in particular stuck with me through out the week. That phrase, "when the fullness of time had come..." God never works on our timeline. He has His own plan. He isn't dragging His feet, He hasn't forgotten. He's working. While we wait, He works. 

When the fullness of time had come all those Christmases ago, He gave the most perfect gift - Jesus Christ. Not a moment too early or a moment too late. After 400 years of silence God broke through the darkness, as a baby, as Emmanuel, as God with us, as our Savior. The wait was over, but not until just the right moment.

As I have prayed this week, asking God for those things I so desperately long for and even tire of waiting for I was reminded to add "but only when the fullness of time has come" because I know He is creating something magnificent. He is unfolding a plan that will be for His glory and for my good. And it will come at just the right time. It is what I so desperately want even when I don't fully understand.

And then...

A THRILL OF HOPE

as I remember that "Long lay the world in sin and error pining. Till HE appeared and the soul felt its worth. A THRILL OF HOPE, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices. O night divine. O night when Christ was born." {O Holy Night}

It fills my heart with great hope to remember how God broke the silence with the birth of our Savior. It is reminder that He will come through in my waiting. He is working. And I am filled with hope remembering that when the fullness of time has come, all of these things I am waiting for will be clear to me. God will be glorified and I will fall on my knees. 

[Please remember that these are my thoughts as I work through Louie Giglio's book Waiting Here For You. He began the thought there and as I read I reflected here. My hope is that you will be encouraged and I highly recommend you read the book for yourself. It can be purchased here: Waiting Here For You]

Advent

The Christmas before I met my husband I read through Louie Giglio's advent book, Waiting Here for You. I have some great memories of that Christmas season sitting by the white lit Christmas tree in my little apartment crying as I focused my heart on the HOPE of Christmas. I was alone and, at 30, it was a struggle for me. It felt as if w
aiting was the never ending story of my life. What I discovered as I refocused my heart on the true meaning of the Christmas season was that what my heart longed for wasn't a husband, it was Jesus. Suddenly my wait was about Jesus to come again, my whole focus had shifted. It was beautiful and one of the most wonderful memories of Christmas I have. Little did I know that less than a month later God would bring Kevin into my life. In a moment the waiting was over. I was in love and a year later on December 5, 2014 I was married. It is incredible how God works! How He can move so quietly and seemingly slow, yet in an instant, fast and furious, life is changed forever!

I am planning to read through Waiting Here for You as usual this Christmas season. Only this year I want to take the time to blog through out and share what the Lord is doing in my heart as I read. I know He will be stirring up something beautiful just as He always has. This year I am waiting again. Not for a husband but for a child. Kevin and I have been hoping and praying and trying for a baby for well over a year now. The summer brought difficult news about my own health and we have had to face the possibility we may never have our own children. We really don't know, only God does. We both still believe that God can do all things. He is Creator. He is Sovereign. Even this is not to big for Him.

All this to say, my heart is soft and tender, broken and ready to be molded into something more like Christ. God is using this wait just as He did my wait for Kevin to make me into something beautiful, someone who reflects His Son. It is incredible to me that this is what God does for His children, but He does it and it offers hope and gives meaning to my wait. 

What I hope is that this advent season will be much like that first Christmas a few years ago, where my heart's focus was completely shifted. My eyes turned heavenward and my longings and desires  realigned with God's own desires. It really was a Christmas miracle that year. I need the same this year, to be refocused and renewed. I cannot know if or when our wait for a baby will end, but I do know that this season of waiting cannot be wasted.  

My Veteran

One of my favorite things about my husband is the strength of his character. Those who know him know him to be a good, honest, moral, caring, wise, godly man. He decided from a young age that he would be a follower of Christ and he has not wavered in his conviction since. This amazes me, because so many of us (including myself) have our moments of weakness and failure and some turn from the Lord for a season or even entirely.

Not so with my husband and this is one of his greatest gifts to me.

Possibly one of the most significant tests of his character and faith were the years he served our country in the Army. While deployed in Iraq he experienced some significant persecution for his faith. He was tested in ways I've never been. Tempted by his fellow soldiers to sin in some big and small ways, tempted to somehow abandon his beliefs as a Christian.

He never did.

This photo represents to me not only my husband's sacrifices in serving his country, but also the goodness of the Lord in empowering him to withstand the against the schemes of the devil. It represents all that I love about him - who he is as a man, as a soldier, as a husband, and as a Christian.

This Veteran's Day I am thankful for all who have served and are serving our country. Today and every day I am especially thankful for my husband. Who served with his whole heart and for the love of his country. Who returned home having been changed forever by his experiences, but resolved not to allow his experiences to change his love for the Lord.

Thank you, Kevin, for fighting the good fight, for standing firm not only in the US Army, but also in the Lord's army! I am so proud to be your wife!

Difficult Places

Sometimes we find ourselves in difficult, dark places. Some kind of bad news has entered into the story of our lives and the joy we so easily felt is replaced with a heavy, almost unbearable discouragement. God are you there? It is only natural that we want to find our way out of these dark places, to claw our way to the light, to freedom, to happiness. But what if we lingered for a moment. What if we stopped to take a breath, even if it is feeling hard to breathe? What if, instead of finding our own way out, we let God show us? What if we allow ourselves to feel the pain that brought us to the dark place, to cry the bitter tears, to yell for help, to beg for healing and then wait? Wait for the light to appear at the end of the tunnel. Wait for the Holy Spirit to strengthen us, empower us, and lead us out of the darkness. 

I have been in dark places before and one thing I know for sure, these difficult places pass and joyful seasons come and, inevitably, another difficult season approaches and often darker that the one before. It seems to be the constant ebb and flow of life - deep valleys contrasted with high, spectacular mountain top moments. All part of the refining process, making our faith stronger, deepening our resolve to hold fast to God’s promises. 

I often feel as though I wanted to run through the fire that God was allowing me to walk through. Almost an attitude of “okay, I know this is part of the Christian life, but let’s get this over with - now!” Who in their right mind would ever stand in the midst of a fire and not desperately try to escape? But God is there IN THE FIRE. The Holy Spirit used the testimony of Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah (Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego) to confirm my thoughts on all of these things. In Daniel 3 they refuse to bow down to Nebuchadnezzar's  golden image, in obedience to the One True God, and are cast into a fiery furnace. Most certainly a "dark" moment for them. They believed God could deliver them. They did not pretend to know what He would choose to do, only that He was THE True God, the only One worthy of their worship. It wasn’t until then were thrown into the fiery furnace that Jesus Himself appeared there with them. They walked about in that place with Jesus! In the dark places we can learn to fellowship with Jesus. 

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not consume you. For I am the LORD your God..." Isaiah 43:2

I have this overwhelming sense that there is no reason to rush this season. No reason to push through the pain. I have a Heavenly Father who has promised to carry me through this life and into eternity. This bad news, this dark place, this pain, however ungodly it may feel it, it cannot destroy me. My future is secure, decided, an most assuredly filled with joy. 

This too shall pass. God is not finished with me yet, and I have faith that He is working all things for good and His glory. 

Have you ever wanted to do something, but then had no clue how to go about doing it? That is me with this blog. All day long I have words forming in my mind, weaving their way around the ordinary parts of my day, and I think, "I should blog about that!" So I pull out my laptop and try to will those same beautiful words to come, but they don't.

I stare at a blank screen. Close my laptop and walk away.

I'm caught some place between the idea and the carrying out of the idea. By the time I've pulled my laptop out I've been able to convince myself that those words I wanted to share aren't really worth sharing. 

I get stuck.

Until the next day when I'm thinking and working and living and those words come parading through my mind again and I think, "oh, how lovely, I should write about that." and then I never do. 

Mayhem

Her name is Mayhem because within the first 24 hours of her life her mother lost her - twice! The first time we thought she had been lost forever. CJ (her mother) paced the pasture like a mad cow for hours, bellowing the whole time. Grandpa eventually came over to help me look and he had me looking for evidence a bear had carried the calf away! *sob* 

Thankfully, we found her a short while later sleeping under the lilac bush in the neighbors yard. She was afraid to cross back into our pasture because the fence was hot and she had to walk through water to get there. I'm sure she got a good shock on her first trip to the neighbors and this is likely why we had no problems with her going over there again!

The second time she was lost was later that night when her mother started bellowing again. You can hear the distress in their bellow and it breaks my heart. Kevin kept assuring me her mother would locate her, but eventually humored me by going out to take a look for her. We couldn't find any evidence of the calf. CJ didn't seem as worked up as she had been earlier in the day so we took this to mean she had an idea where her calf would be. It wasn't until nearly nine at night when Kevin went out to look again for the calf (at this point I was in bed crying and I think he just wanted to get me to stop) and found her nursing her mother in a back corner of the pasture!

What a little trouble maker she is! I wanted to name her Mayberry and then after all the shenanigans we thought Mayday might be more appropriate. However, it is only fair that Kevin should name this calf since I named the last one, and he settled on Mayhem. She has lived up to the name since. She is almost always ahead or behind the rest of the herd. She is always looking to get into trouble, especially with her cousin, Tbone (the bull calf born a few weeks after Mayhem). I love her. She is spunky and runs with her tail in the air and always seems to be looking for adventure. 

She is big and strong and will grow up to be a good mama, that is if she doesn't get into too much trouble before then!

The Good Life

There is something beautiful about these early summer Saturday evenings. We've worked hard all day, and I mean hard. I'm dirty, my back and hands hurt, I've proven myself stronger than I ever thought I was. I've worked, we've worked, together. There is something so satisfying about it all. I love that he has made me a hard worker.

The evening comes and the sun begins to set and pour in the windows, filling the house with light. It's different from the morning light, but beautiful all the same. The windows are open and the cool evening air fills the house. I can hear the birds singing while they hurry to get there dinner before the sun is gone. The cows come out to the back pasture and graze. The caves run and play. They look so happy to be free to jump and explore.

We'll have dinner while the sun sets and talk and laugh and rest.

Life feels settled, happy and full.

I'll take a million more of these days, please.

This has got to be the good life.

The Laundry Basket

It often sat at the end of our bed, full of the husband's unmentionables. I set it there so he would know it was time to put his clothes away. I had washed them, dried them (well the machine did most of that) and kindly folded them. Literally all he needed to do was PUT THEM IN A DRAWER no more than 3 feet away. 

He rarely did. 

The basket would sit there and sit there and he would just take what he needed from it. Sometimes, I'd even REFILL the basket and put it back at the end of the bed. My goodness!

He still wasn't putting his clothes away.

No big deal, I thought. It really didn't bother me all that much and I wasn't his SLAVE. Certainly he could, at the very least, put them in the dresser. 

Sometimes, when it did start to rub on a nerve, I'd move the basket to his chair or his side of the bed. It's hard to miss there because he would need to move it in order to sit in his chair or get into bed. (subtle, aren't I?!)

So he'd move it....to the end of the bed. 

And once in a while we would laugh..."oh, you want me to put this away, don't you?" he would say. 

Well, yes, sweet husband. Would you mind putting your OWN clothes away? After all, I washed them, dried them AND folded them...

And then it happened. I was sitting in my own chair right across from the end of the bed (and the laundry basket) reading my bible (what a good wife I am). And that basket, in the corner of my eye, was completely ruining the ambiance of my nice clean bedroom. The bed was made, the room was clean, and the laundry basket was becoming an eye sore. How could I Instagram a picture of my quiet time with this monstrosity in the background?!?

Then I had the most ridiculous thought - "Why don't YOU put it away?" 

WHAT! ME! I've already established I am not the husband's slave. I cook and clean and keep this house, the very least the man can do is put away his own underwear!

And then I heard the Holy Spirit whisper as He will often do, "Aren't you supposed to SERVE him? After all, he's off serving you right at this very moment...."

Honestly!?!? Conviction. 

Here was an opportunity to die to myself and become like Christ - to serve - by putting away my husbands unmentionables. Granted, it isn't the most glamorous way to serve, but it is serving none the less. 

I immediately thought of that verse in Philippians (probably the Holy Spirit again) where it says, "Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though He was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking on the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men." (Philippians 2:5-7) 

That phrase, "taking on the form of a servant" really stuck out to me. Here I was refusing to be the husband's "slave" all while I am called to serve him just as Christ serves the church. To put his needs before my own, etc, etc. 

My only hope of a beautiful marriage is if I become more like Christ. And my only hope of that is if I humble myself and put my husband before myself. Day after day I beg God to help me do it and then I fold the laundry and put it in a basket at the end of the bed. All while thinking I'm justified because I'm not his servant...but in reality, I am.

So, that day I put his laundry away and I have ever since. It's such a small, almost pointless task but it taught me something big.

It only took him a few loads of laundry to notice the basket was gone.  I know if I put the basket at the end of the bed again he would eventually put his clothes away, but today I have the time and the ability to do it for him.

So I will.

PS: For those concerned, the hubs in no way treats me like his slave and is much better at imitating the humility of Christ than I am!

I Do This For You

I'm sitting in my bedroom in front of a huge picture window watching the sun shine on the glistening snow in our pasture. The cows are out there...somewhere, most likely hiding from the wind in the trees along the side of the house. I'm sipping my coffee having completed a morning of just a few hours of work, a phone chat with my mom, and a short cardio workout. This is my life and I can hardly believe it.

This morning, my husband's alarm went off at 6am and by 6:30 he was out the door for a long day of work...outside...in the cold. When his alarm went off I moaned but he didn't. No, he quietly got up and asked "do you mind if I turn the light on?"

I was still half asleep and all I could say was "I don't know how you do it." and he walked to my side of the bed, bent down, put his scruffy face next to mine and whispered in my ear, "I do it for you."

His words washed over me like a flood of clean fresh water, like the sun after a rainy day and I felt the way you feel when you put a fresh out of the dryer blanket around you - warm and safe.

He does this for me.

For me he wakes up when it is still dark to go to a job that will have him on his feet working hard all day with hardly even a break. His legs will hurt, his back will hurt, his whole body will be cold, but he crawls out of bed and serves me by leaving to go to work every day.

He has no idea how powerful his words were this morning, how they have danced at the back of my mind all day making me feel cared for and loved, or just how happy the thought of him doing that for me is. I haven't missed for a moment the pressure of providing for myself by going to work every day. With each passing moment I am more and more aware of the fact that I wasn't ever going to find contentment in rushing off into the world to build my own career. I was made to be here in this place, on this land with these cows and the cat that makes me crazy. I've made myself weary trying to be something I'm not and suddenly, in this quiet old farm house, I am more content than I ever imagined possible. Here in this place I have the opportunity to make this house our home, to paint the walls and hang the curtains and fill it with love, and joy, and all things good. When my husband drives up the snow covered drive way tonight he will be welcomed to a warm, clean home. A place where he can rest. A semi-decent meal and most important a wife who hopes to never take for granted how blessed she is to have the husband she has, a man who does this for her.

There's nothing quite like going through [literally] everything you own and packing it all into a 10x10 storage unit. It isn't exactly a process I'd recommend everyone go through. I've done it now - twice. This time it felt different. The packing marks the end of one season and the start of another exciting one.

This kind of transition can't come and go without taking a moment to reflect and remember where I've come from before looking to where I am going. This apartment has been a place of refuge, a haven where I found Jesus, the place where His presence was so real. It was here that He met me, daily providing my needs, patiently teaching and changing me, washing the dark corners of my heart, allowing pain and always promising healing. He wrote pages and pages of our love story in this apartment, boldly displaying His perfect love to a girl so desperate for a love unending. It was in these four walls that I finally understood that He is enough, where I finally surrendered completely to the story He was writing, where I came to the end of myself and He proved to be more than enough.

So, with every packed box I remember. I remember where my Jesus has taken me, the journey, the happy days, the sad days, the moments He felt so close, and those time I had wandered so far. Each box stacked high feels like a declaration of His goodness, His faithfulness, His mercy, and His grace. He has left His mark on every part. His grace woven through the moments of my life like a thread, holding together the parts that were broken and perfectly proclaiming His love.

And yet, leaving this place is difficult. I'm not sure why and I'm frustrated I even feel this way, but as these boxes pile up higher and higher I can't overcome the sense I'll never be in this place again. Yes, there are many parts of this life I don't mind giving up, but what if His presence is felt less? I want to stay in this place - it's comfortable here. What if the next season gets hard or I feel lonely? What if the next set of four walls I find myself in don't offer the same sense of fellowship with my Jesus? And while I know with all my heart that He is always with me, what if it doesn't seem that way?

It's really ridiculous, actually. This season of life I've been wishing away and the moment the light flickers at the end of the tunnel I feel compelled to shrink back into the dark corner of my little cave and feel anxious about the coming change. I feel a little foolish admitting the true reason for these emotions. It's almost as if every box sealed shut is like packing away my Jesus, sealing away a thousand memories and a million pieces of myself.

And then He whispers and the voice I learned to listen for quietly reminds me that He is God no matter where I live. His presence has nothing to do with my location. He knew I'd need Him, so He gave His Spirit and in me He dwells. I can't pack Him away. It has nothing to do with how I feel and everything to do with the reality that HE IS IN ME.

"Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?" [1 Cor.3:16]

Nothing that matters is really changing - even if it feels as if everything is. My God  is who He says He is - always. period. He doesn't scold me for my emotions, He understands. He has a whole new list of lessons and opportunities for me to trust and rely on Him. I'll cry and fail, feel lonely and happy. And He won't change at all.

Living In The Moment...

Living in the moment…

I’ve been thinking about that phrase a lot today.

Shouldn’t it be a positive thing? Shouldn’t it make us feel happy, carefree, content, loved, wanted, fulfilled….and on and on…

The world tells us to live there – in the moment. Say what you want to say, do what you want to do. If it makes you happy then by all means go there. If it feels good, don’t stop. Just do what seems like the most fun and don't over think things. Be spontaneous. Go with the flow. It doesn’t really seem to work the way they make it sound. Sure in the moment it may all seem perfectly acceptable, feel good, make you happy. But what about after? What happens when that moment has past? What are you left with then?

I’m not sure what your experiences have been, but my in the moment experiences have often left me feeling rather unhappy, unloved, unwanted, and unfulfilled. All leading me to feel that this in the moment philosophy is rather flawed.

I want to live my life in some other place. Somewhere less impulsive and more grounded. In a place where my feelings, wants, and needs can't ever override what is ultimately best for me and those I care about. A place where joy is never sacrificed for a moment of happiness. A place where best wins over good. A place where my actions line up with God’s plan to glorify Himself through my life. A place where He rules and I do not.

My perspective needs to change.

I need to live in ETERNITY.

I need to view my choices through the lens of ETERNITY.

This life we live is a moment, a blip on the radar of The Almighty who stands outside the restraints of time in a place called ETERNITY with a perspective that we could never, will never, fully comprehend as long as we are held fast in the grip of TIME. From this place He is composing the most wonderful story. A story where He is declared over and over as I AM, where His glory shines forever. A story that He has graciously allowed us to be a part of. A story where our choices matter – regardless of how insignificant those choices may seem in the moment.

And the enemy wants us to believe that our choices in this blip of time couldn’t possibly have that great of an impact on our own lives and much less ETERNITY….but ETERNITY is coming…in a moment we will be with HIM – GOD ALMIGHTY. And while I want to focus on the part where I am made like Him and He wipes all my tears away, there is also going to be a time when I give an account for how I lived. I feel like in that moment the excuse of “Oh, I was just living in the moment, God!” is going to drop like a small smooth pebble thrown into vast raging ocean...meaningless...lost...pointless...

I think He cares – that is, I think God cares about these little moments in our lives. Those small decisions where it may not be a matter of right and wrong but best over good. I think it matters to Him. I think He desires that we, in those moments, press pause and take a look through the window of ETERNITY and contemplate the impact of the decision.  Those seemingly harmless decisions matter. They are just as important as those big moments, when temptation stares us in the face and we have to make the choice between God's way or sin. I think God cares about those decisions, however big or small, all just the same. It all counts. And there is a joy indescribable when we make the choice to live our lives in light of ETERNITY. It is there we feel loved, carefree, content, wanted, and fulfilled because it is there that we find I AM. 

So just in case I forget to remember, I’m writing it here….I’m living my life in light of ETERNITY.

Worship

Worship is a weapon. Did you know that? I hadn’t really seen it as such until recently. 

The choice to worship in the midst of our struggle is a weapon - a tool to be used as we wait on the Lord to move, to act, and to work miracles on our behalf. It is what to do when we do not know what to do.

Those times in life are dark, they are painful, they are lonely. When anxiety settles in, when fear overwhelms, when loneliness becomes unbearable - our praise is a weapon. It is a lifeline when all around us is falling apart.

It is like a light in the dark. Our praise in the darkness of our lives, in the waiting, in the struggle, in the loneliness, in the sorrow, in the suffering - our praise is like lighting a candle in a dark, damp, cold cave. It is a reminder that God Almighty is greater than whatever it is we are suffering through. 

He is greater than our anxiety, greater than our stress, greater than our loss, greater than our loneliness, greater than our pain, greater than our struggle. He is I AM. And at the very mention of Jesus' Name the enemy must flee. And he does. Scripture tells us that even the demons tremble at the name of Jesus. Even the demons know who God is. So our worship is a weapon.

Worship.

It’s like an invitation saying “God, I know this place You have me in is dark and lonely. And, honestly, I need a miracle if I’m ever going to get out of here. But You are I AM, so I’m going to worship You right here, right now. Because that’s what You deserve and that’s what my life is about – You.”

And then you worship. 

You whisper a hymn, a word, a song – and your eyes open wider and you know He is there. And suddenly, that crushing weight, that dark cloud - oh it’s still there - but suddenly your focus has shifted, your eyes have lifted, the atmosphere is changing. Like the flicker of a candle's flame illuminates a dark, cold, damp cave...you realize...

I AM.

Is.

Here.

And that miracle you’ve been begging God for, that one thing that needs to happen to get you out of this place – it hasn’t happened but a miracle has happened. Because you’ve survived. You made it through the night, the day, the week, the month. And the things you thought you just couldn’t go on and do you are doing. The miracle isn’t that God took away your suffering – the miracle is that He has sustained you through it.The miracle isn't that He has finally answered all your prayers just the way you wanted. It is that you've been hanging by a thread and He miraculously caught you. The miracle isn't the vanishing of suffering it is the sudden appearing of the Almighty God in a dark and terrible place. The miracle is that I AM is with you. I AM has sustained you. I AM has held you. I AM has waited with you. I AM has wiped your tears. I AM has held your hand through it all. 

That is the miracle.

But you don't realize it until you worship. You don't notice unless you worship. It isn't until your eyes are peeled away from the darkness around you that you notice He is there with you, waiting patiently with you, comforting, sustaining - being I AM for you. 

It is still dark. It is still lonely. The storm rages. The end isn't even in view. You still need a miracle to bring you out of this place - but while you are in this place you have a weapon - you have a duty - you have a purpose.

Worship.

Invite God in. Lean closer. Look up.

Worship is our weapon, it is our defense against all that comes to steal our joy. It is how we proclaim God as I AM and surrender.

Worship is a declaration, the war cry of God's people, that He is I AM. And it is I AM who has stretched out His mighty arms to us and offered His steadfast, enduring love to comfort and support us.

Our worship invites Him into the darkest places of our lives so that He can breathe His life into us and find hope again in Him!

"By day the Lord commands His steadfast love and at night His song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life...Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my Salvation and my God." 
Psalm 42:8 & 11

***this post was written after listening to a message by Louie Giglio titled, "I Lift My Hands," as well as the result of dealing with my own battles with anxiety, loss, and loneliness - through which the Holy Spirit has taught me to worship***

You're Still More Than I Need

I'm sitting in my quiet, slightly freezing apartment wasting away my free Tuesday night, iPod on shuffle, listening to Shane & Shane and this line hits me...

"You're still more than I need...You're enough for me"

He is just that. He is enough. In fact, He is more than enough. And what He has to offer me is more than I need. 

Do you believe this, or are you just singing along with Shane & Shane? Sometimes, I feel like I'm just singing along. I mean, who doesn't love a good worship song, and it's hard to beat Shane & Shane?!? But I so easily forget that my perfect Heavenly Father is not just enough - He is more than enough. He is not only aware of my needs, He is able to meet my needs above and beyond what I could have ever dreamed - because He is more than I need. 

That is what He is - He is enough. 

This is an amazing thought and there is an incredible about of peace to be found in this truth. The past several weeks the Lord has had me on this crazy journey where every day (I'm not kidding, every day!) He has been proving to me over and over again that He is so much more than I need, how He has all details of my life worked out, how I can rest in Him, how I can trust Him to provide, and how capable He is of taking care of me - beyond what I could imagine!

I was having a moment at work today. I may be the only one who has them, but sometimes I get so overwhelmed with the amount of work I need to get done I become completely paralyzed. I'm not kidding. My brain begins to shut down and I begin to have thoughts about pajama days and sleeping in until noon (I don't know why sleep is always my default defense in times of stress.) Anyway, I was having one of these moments where my eyeballs had begun to glaze over and my little brain kicked in to overdrive going through all the things that needed to be done, the things that I wanted to do, and all the ways both of these things could go terribly wrong. I felt myself crumbling...

So I reached in to my purse and pulled out my bible and read Psalm 57, in particular these verses 1-2 & 10.

"...for in You my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of Your wings I will take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by. I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills His purpose for me...for Your steadfast love is great to the heavens, Your faithfulness to the clouds." 

These words are powerful. I read this and I am suddenly taken to a place where I am safe, protected, sheltered, and loved. His love is great, higher than the heavens. His faithfulness, so abundant it reaches to the clouds. This is my God. This is the God who is enough. This is the God I cry to. This is the God who hears me. This is the God worthy of my trust. This is the God who is carefully fulfilling His purpose for me, who has a plan, who knows my heart, and is perfectly capable of meeting my every need because He is more than I need, He is enough. 

***If you want to hear the song I was listening to*** 

You're Enough For Me

Enough. It has been a theme lately. Every time I open my bible, every time I begin to pray, listening to sermons, talking to friends... I'm talking crazy things like randomly listening to a sermon online and having this concept pounded into my head for 45 minutes straight, then listening to my iTunes library on shuffle and hearing a million songs in a row (okay, not a million) with some lyric involving the idea that He is enough for me. Then opening my bible and finding the same message in my reading...over and over...all week. It is as if He has me by the shoulders and is pleeding with me, "I'm enough for you, believe me!" I don't always believe Him. I don't always live my life as though He really is enough for me. But He is. He has been enough on my darkest days, in my lowst moments, He has been enough in the sunshine, in the happy, and during the good. There is no reason to think that He won't be enough today, or tomorrow, or the next day. It would be foolish to doubt His goodness or to think that it could run out or fall short. He is enough and can be nothing less!

Grace

Sometimes I'm so aware of my own failings, my short comings, how little I have to offer and how often I fall short. One moment hands lifted in surrender and the next minute my fist clenched in anger. One moment offering prayers of praise the next moment prayers for forgiveness. I think I have it all together only to stumble and fall, and I wonder how He could forgive me yet again. Sometimes the same sin over and over...

But His Grace always the same, always enough, always freely offered. 

He does not change because He cannot change. He has claimed me as His own and He will not let go. He is faithful when I am not. He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all...always there arms stretched wide. Forgiveness unending. He is far greater than my failing heart. His love the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. Knowing all, He knows I'll fall again, but He loves just as abundantly today as tomorrow. In today's victory and tomorrow's fight, His grace unending...enough.

What love is this! That He would love a mess like me! 

Broken Bones and Bloody Noses...

I broke my arm when I was a little girl. It actually wasn’t 100% my fault, my brother’s best friend accidentally jumped on my left arm breaking both my ulna and radius bones. I have teased him about this for years, the joke never seems to get old. I’ll never forget seeing my arm unnaturally bent and instinctively knowing I needed my mom – like NOW! Turns out the bones weren’t completely broken, so when I got to the hospital the doctor had to break the bones and reset them so they would heal properly. I think I was a pretty tough kid, in fact, I still think I’m pretty tough, but it hurt. I remember being alone in the exam room with the doctor and the nurse. It had been decided they would not numb my arm before doing the procedure since little kids are terrified of needles (but he didn’t realize I had absolutely no fear of them). They also wouldn’t allow my mom to be in the room with me because I had been to the hospital so frequently with various injuries they seriously thought she might be beating me up. Don’t worry, she wasn’t, I just had a really hard time walking and running without finding some way to put a gash in my face large enough to alarm my mother.

I remember that exam room vividly, my mom’s face in the window in the door and feeling sad she couldn’t be with me. She was out there plotting ways to inflict serious physical harm on the doctor – trust me, she was not happy they didn’t allow her in the room! Anyway, what the doctor had to do hurt, seriously hurt, but it had to be done or my arm wouldn’t heal the way it needed too. I remember a single tear falling down my cheek and the nurse praising me for being so brave.

Life is pain sometimes. It honest to goodness just hurts. The older I get the more pain I experience and the more I see those I love go though painful circumstances too. We all hurt for different reasons and the degrees of our pain may vary – but the reality is sometimes we just have to hurt. I hate that.

There is this circumstance in my life today and I’d like to deny that it’s bothering me, but it’s time to get real, it’s bothering me. It is this lingering ache that intensifies every so often and pain from my past rears its ugly head and I just hurt. What amazes me is how I can be so happy one moment and then the next be brought to my knees in literal agony. I’m not kidding you – agony. My natural response it to find something to numb the pain. I want to be distracted, I want to shut off my brain and not think about it, I want to feel better even if it’s just for a moment. I run around looking for ways to numb this pain and, honestly, none of it actually works and some of it brings even more pain. I have this incredible ability to stuff my hurt back to the farthest corners of my brain and leave it there. Sometimes I even forget it’s back there, but it is back there, and the longer I ignore it the more it festers and grows into something ugly. I know I should deal with it, but it’s easier to find other things to distract me from it.

I was never a very athletic kid, but my brother was. There was this time when my brother was playing soccer with friends and I was the annoying little sister who begged to play, so he put me in the goal. Smart, Matt. It wasn’t long before I had a soccer ball right in the face. My nose was bleeding, but I wanted to keep playing. I remember Matt coming over to me and telling me to go home and deal with my nose – I couldn’t keep playing when I had blood on my face. I was convinced he was just being mean and didn’t want me to play...but I went home.

I’m still that girl sometimes – the one who wants to pretend there isn’t blood dripping down my face and keep playing. I want to clean the blood up and stay in the game, but sometimes we just need to step out for a moment and deal with what’s hurting us.

What I’ve been learning is that I need to simply face that pain. I need to stop seeking ways to erase it from my life and instead feel it. There are these circumstances that are completely out of our control – when someone else hurts us and there is literally nothing we can do about that hurt. It’s there and it isn’t going to go away. And in some cases, the source of our pain likes to step in and hurt us a little more. Like salt on our wounds and what we thought was healing is all ripped up and hurting again. We begin to think we have completely lost our minds, crying over something we shouldn’t be crying over. And our enemy, the devil, sees us with our guard down and capitalizes on our weakness. The battle just got really ugly.

I had to hurt the day I broke my arm – there was good reason for more pain to be inflicted on my little body, because without it I wouldn’t heal properly and I wouldn't be able to use my arm. The pain was actually for my own good. Feeling it meant healing. I wouldn’t heal well if I didn’t experience it.

The pain this life brings us is, yes, really horrible but if we just ignore it or put band aids over it we'll never really heal. It’s an opportunity. In some crazy, God-only way, our Father uses that pain to show us these amazing parts of Himself. Qualities we’d miss if we weren’t curled up in a ball crying our eyes out. We run to other sources of comfort and find relief for a moment, but it really is only in His presence that we can find healing. He doesn’t take the pain away. Nope. He doesn’t miraculously make it possible for us to simply not feel the hurt. I’ve asked Him to do this for me, and He hasn’t decided this is a good idea. Instead He loves, and comforts, and through His Spirit ministers to my little breaking heart. He doesn’t let me skip over the pain but asks me to trust Him in allowing it. I'm thinking, I'm hoping, that this is how it is for all of us...

So it's true, life hurts...sometimes it really hurts. But...

There will come a day, standing face to face. IN A MOMENT, we'll be LIKE HIM. He will wipe our eyes dry, take us up to His side and FOREVER, WE WILL BE HIS!

This is what I cling to in these moments...when life hurts...when the past weighs heavy on me...when I feel alone...when life feels hopeless...I look to HIM and I look forward to that moment when He draws me to Himself, wipes my tears away, and I am forever His. Suddenly, I am surrendered. The pain rages on, but I hold fast to Jesus and His promise to one day take me away to the place where my pain is no more and He is all I see. 

Soap Box

I'm climbing on my soap box. Brace yourselves, this post has been brewing in my mind for some time, it's 3:30 in the morning and I can't sleep - anything could happen.... 

You know that verse in Proverbs that starts out "A godly wife who can find?" Well that verse has been on my brain a lot - only I change it to say "A godly man who can find?" because to be honest, a true man of God seems hard to find. Now when I say "hard to find" I mean completely impossible. Alright...alright, slight exaggeration there, but I'm beginning to think this brand of Christian has been sold out. I can't tell you how many times I've looked friends in the eyes and told them how it is honest to goodness impossible to find a man who is in fact sold out for the Lord. 

Now this might seem shocking to many of you, because there are so many nice young men around. They show up in church in their button up shirts and designer jeans, bibles in hand ready to worship. But let's be real, it is about way more than button up shirts and bibles. I mean, don't get me wrong, I want my man to come to church and look nice. I want him to actually listen to the sermon and pull a bible out to read when we are instructed to. I'd like him to do more than stand, hands in pockets, during worship. However, I'd really like a man who cracks open that bible on a - wait for it- daily basis. Is it too much to ask for a man who might actually utter a prayer in the middle of the week that involves more words than Thank you, Lord for this meal???

Sometimes I get the impression I may be asking too much, perhaps I've set the bar too high? 

Seems to me most single men are more concerned with building their muscles than they are building their relationships with Jesus. I mean, I've encountered some rather good looking men who have all the time in the world to go to the gym and lift weights, but can't seem to find the time to read their bible, pray, or cultivate God honoring relationships with other godly men. Don't get me wrong, I like a guy with muscles as much as the next girl, but I'd take Chandler Bing over Channing Tatum if the words he spoke were coming from a heart filled with the Holy Spirit. 

Now I'm not sure if you have heard, but I'm 30 and the guys who are asking me out are, well...they aren't 18. And some of them, not all of them (so if you are reading this and you have asked me out, don't freak out), are asking themselves and now me, why they are still single. This is actually not a cool question to ask the woman you've decided to take for coffee, but since you asked...stop asking that! Goodness! First of all, there are about five million reasons why you might be single, and if it is really bothering you why don't you stop playing the desperate card and start doing the work of making yourself ready for marriage. I'm finding it to be an incredibly difficult process. When done properly, the Lord gets all up in your business and starts messing with things you'd rather He not mess with. I discovered that just because I show up at church in my high heels and scarves with my bible ready to worship doesn't actually have a single thing to do with the state of my heart before the Lord. Turns out, there is this messy business of dealing with past sin and past hurt, letting go of selfishness and pride, learning how to make Jesus a part of my every day life, and giving up my own wants, needs, desires, hopes, and dreams so that HE can have HIS own way with me. This is messy business indeed. I'm not saying I have it all figured out, I'm just saying  you might want to consider making this a focus.

You may be asking, since I am apparently now talking to my single male readers...which I'm not really sure are a part of my blog traffic..."I'm working on my relationship with Jesus, but why can't I find a nice girl to date me?" Might I suggest you stop saying things like that too? If you really need a project to focus on, let me suggest putting your focus on growing up. I'm talking about doing things like getting a job, getting out of debt, throwing away the clothes you wore in high school, cleaning out your car, learning to do your own laundry, learning to cook, cleaning your bathroom, taking down your Matrix posters and putting up grown up wall decor. Don't panic. She is out there, but most of the solid christian women I know would really rather go out with a guy who is willing and able to pay for her meal without complaining about it. 

Now, finally, since it is after 4am and I'm thinking I should be able to get an hour of sleep tonight, can we all just agree not to worry about all of this? I'm discovering that at every failed relationship or at the end of every bad date is often this feeling of discouragement and fear that it is never going to work out. Looking back, I can honestly say that I am grateful to the Lord that all of my past relationships and past attempts at relationships didn't work out. Every experience has been used by God to do that messy work I was talking about earlier - to refine me and make me more like the woman He wants me to be. If I really believe that God is sovereign, that He is in fact in control, then I need to recognize that it is only because my sight is limited that I feel there are no longer any truly Godly single men left in this world. God's got it. In fact, He has known from before the start of time who I would marry. He's just busy doing the messy work in my heart and his before He brings us together. I pray every day for that man, whoever he is, that God refine and shape him into just the right man for me.

I'm not going to pretend I'm perfect, but I do think I deserve a man who's heart is sold out for Jesus, and I refuse to settle for anything less.

Summer

Summer makes me happy. I don't know if it's the endless winters here in Wisconsin or because my birthday always seems to mark the unofficial start - it just makes me happy. The sun feels warm on my skin while I'm driving in the car. I can finally leave the house without a coat on. I get to wear flip flops. My plans are made around the next visit to the pool or evening jog. I eat watermelon and hamburgers like they are going out of style. Hair in a messy ponytail, sun burned cheeks and shoulders, sunglasses, iced tea, sunsets and summer nights. It feels a little bit like heaven and these last couple days have been almost more heaven than I ever thought possible. 

Just a few days ago I celebrated my 30th birthday and I have found myself in the process of celebrating with one friend or another over the course of the past 7 days. And what I expected would be the most difficult birthday of my entire existence has turned out to be one of the most amazing birthdays of my life. 

That is saying a lot, because one year I got a real baby stroller for my birthday - that day was pretty fantastic. And the authentic baby accessories didn't stop there. I was even given real baby diapers and bottles for my doll. And as I pushed my precious baby, Matthew, in his new stroller, I was pretty sure then my life had reached an all time high and it was only going to be down hill from there. That was last year...kidding, kidding...I was probably 7.

Then came along my 16th birthday and while visiting my grandparents in Florida we made a stop to see the ocean. My tan little Midwestern toes had never felt the salty sea water before and I tried to play it cool, but as I watched the waves crash and felt the cold water my heart filled with emotion and I was perfectly happy. Even when the dark gray clouds came in and poured down rain, I couldn't have dreamed up a better moment than that one. 

But this year, on my 30th birthday, I did all my favorite things. I slept in until 10 in the morning and I had breakfast in my pajamas. I sat on my patio and took my time reading my bible and scribbling in my journal. I listened to my favorite music and went to the pool. I sat in the sun for hours and have peeling skin on my shoulders to prove it. I was brought pasta, Diet Dr. Pepper, and got to spend time with one of the most amazing little girls on this planet. And then in the days the followed I spent time with the people I love most in all of the world. And we have laughed and eaten and opened presents.  I watched What About Bob with my family and we quoted our favorite lines. I scored awesome parking spots and sweet clearance buys with my best friend. And we walked and shopped and talked and remembered all the years we've had together and with out actually saying, declared that regardless of how difficult life may became we will always be in each other's corner. I laughed with girlfriends over massive servings of fried chicken and actually felt thankful I was single so I could have so many nights out in a row. I searched for my desk in a sea of pink presents from my coworkers and plan to share the massive amounts of candy with anyone who comes in my office for the next 6 months, but the case of Diet Dr. Pepper is all mine.  I had long phone calls with far away friends, emails from old friends, and stayed up late playing on my new iPhone. I have done all of this and more and every night for the past 7 days I have gone to bed too happy to sleep. 

And then today as the birthday blessings continue to pour in, I ate pasta with another best friend and told her how wonderful 30 was turning out to be. And between sips of lemonade and bites of chicken I told her how Jesus had so graciously reminded me of how He redeemed me and loved me with a love that never fails. How He has used so many people to remind me of His great love for me.  How I felt joy. Not because I had sunburn on my cheeks or an iPhone, not because of a person or a circumstance but because Jesus loves me. I felt happy. He has, in His great grace, given me so much to find happy in my life. 

So tonight, as I watch the pinks and purples of a beautiful sunset from my little patio, I am more than happy. I am full of joy - a joy that could only come from the Lord. He has been good. For 30 years He has lavished me with grace and love I could never deserve. He has loved me like none other. And on top of all that - He has given me summertime - full of warm days and pool time, family and friends, sunburn and tan lines, flip flops and sunglasses....

These days have felt like more heaven than I could have dreamed of and I want to enjoy every moment of it!

jump

Sometimes, every once in a while, I have this sense that HE is up to something great, something mind blowing, something far beyond my dreams. And I feel HIS joy rush in like waves and crash over me. He lifts my head and I am suddenly so aware. This place. This valley. So full of purpose. So full of His perfect plan for me. His promises so trustworthy. For a moment He allows me a peek, a little taste of what He is up to and my heart is filled with hopes and dreams and wonder. He hides me in the cleft of the rock and with His hand over me His glory passes by. And I feel my lungs fill with air and my eyes open wide. He is here, He is beside me, He is up to something far beyond my dreams. All He asks is that I trust Him, that I step out in faith and with courage - jump! And in those moments I feel my soul leap - complete abandom - for I am His and He is mine.

I waited patiently for the LORD; He inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.
Psalm 40:1-3a

I cannot get these words out of my mind. They have been playing over and over in my head like a song that won’t stop. “He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog…” It’s ripping at my heart…that He drew me up…up from this pit…up from this filth.

I was listening to a sermon this weekend and the speaker mentioned how Jesus came to this earth – this miry bog – to lift me out of this pit. In the past, in my mind, as I’ve read this familiar passage He was always reaching for me from Heaven. But when I think of Him coming down to this pit, stepping into the utterly filthy world so that He might “draw me up” - suddenly I see myself there, so filthy and sinful, so unworthy of love, so broken and bruised and yet He comes. He loves me and He serves me and in the process He is dirtied by this filthy world, by this sin all around me. And with His strong arms and in His great love for me, He lifts me out and dies to do it. I don’t even reach for Him, I don’t even ask Him to…He just does. I’m overwhelmed with this thought and my sobs get stuck in my throat. The Son of God on this earth to rescue me. How can this be?

And more, He draws me up but then “sets my feet on a rock, making my steps secure.” He rescues me and then gives me a safe, firm, reliable place to stand. He doesn’t just get me out of my mess and leave me to figure the rest out on my own. He makes my steps secure. He sets me on a rock. And He puts a “new song in my mouth.” He gives all of Himself for me – to draw me out of the miry bog, He offers me security and safety and love and then He gives me His JOY.

What is breaking my heart tonight is me. I go back to that pit of destruction. I always go back. I hate that. I don’t know what sin you struggle with, I don’t know what battle you find yourself in day after day – that thing the enemy uses to lure you back into that pit, but I don’t think it matters how big or small your battle may seem. The end result is you in that pit. And for weeks now, even months, I’ve been finding myself back in that miry bog, back in that pit of my old life, the old me. I feel the filth of my sin on my skin, in my hair, on my face and I’m disgusted with myself. I am sick over the reality that I would give up the security of this Rock for the filth of that pit of destruction. But what turns my tears to sobs is the picture of Jesus stepping down in to that pit to lift me out. The filth of my sin on HIS skin, in HIS hair, on HIS face. Over and over He rescues me. Over and over He loves me. And no matter how angry and broken I may become He still whispers in my heart, “My beloved, as far as the east is from the west, I would seventy times seven.”

What love is this? Over and over He rescues me, loves and forgives with no limits, wants me like no other, and heroically draws me out from the pit and sets my feet upon a rock. I am foolish and stupid, thinking this world could offer better. I even stand on the Rock He has set me on and dare to think it isn’t enough, that there is something there in that pit of destruction worth betraying Him for. So over and over He finds me there and never once has He ever left me there. Never once has He ever forsaken me. Not once has He shamed me for ending up there. No. Never. Instead, over and over, seventy times seven, He comes down. He loves. He rescues. He cleanses. He saves.

“He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God” only with this lump in my throat and these sobs I cannot sing….all I can do is fall at His feet.

His song plays over and over in my mind. Beloved. As far as the east is from the west. I would seventy time seven.