It is good for me
Was visiting with a dear friend yesterday and we were reflecting on God’s loving discipline in our lives and how we’re THANKFUL for it. It’s evidence that He loves us! Reminded me of this from 2 years ago…
Recently, as I drove home from a speaking event, I was worshiping in the car, singing at the top of my lungs, and so clearly in my mind’s eye I saw a picture:
It was of Jeff and me. We were standing side-by-side, holding hands, looking ahead, faces resolved. We were covered in soot, ash. Our hair was singed. And I heard:
You made it through the fire.
Tears welled up. A release of relief, emotions washed over me.
This year has felt like a fire in so many ways. In ways I’ve shared, in ways I haven’t, it has felt like a fire.
And although I know more challenges will inevitably come, there is a peace and joy and relief in sensing that at least this particular season has come to a close.
Later that weekend, Jeff and I sat on the couch, reflecting on this year. I told him how I kept returning to Psalm 119, the psalmist words echoed my own:
“Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep your word.
You are good and do good; teach me your statutes…
It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes. “
It is good for me.
I thought of the other psalm I always cling to, hold to, trust:
The Lord God is a sun and shield, the LORD bestows favor and honor. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly. (Ps. 84:11)
No good thing does He withhold … even trials.
And no, I’m not saying miscarriage is good. Not saying death is good. It isn’t. God’s good plan is always LIFE. We never have to wonder what His will is in this, it’s crystal clear in His Word.
But in this warped and fallen world, where tragedies happen and sorrow’s a steady companion, God will WORK FOR OUR GOOD, every bad thing.
He lets the devil do his worst, then flips it all upside down and uses it ALL FOR GOOD.
Our God can win with any hand.
And I can see this so clearly this year. There were things God had to allow in my life, in order to uproot, to prune, to break. Sometimes we have to be broken — really broken — in order for him to break in to those deep places and bring healing, wholeness, freedom.
Broken hearts bring breakthrough.
See, Psalm 119 highlights an important truth we don’t talk about that much: discipline.
Sadly, we tend to think of discipline only as a sort of spiritual spanking. We go through something hard and we’re like, “What did I do WRONG? Why are you punishing me?”
But discipline isn’t necessarily punishment. Discipline is training. Discipline is proactive, intentional shaping of character, sometimes through difficulty and trial, for the purpose of Christlikeness.
And, it’s important to note: discipline is done for children out of love because the parent cares enough to put in the effort to train them. Permissive parenting isn’t love, it’s a lack of love. Ignoring our kids’ misbehavior isn’t estimable, it’s deplorable. They deserve discipline because they deserve the very best we can give them. They deserve our loving, calm, gracious, and consistent discipline so they can thrive as self-controlled, kind, generous, hard-working adults. (Lord, help us!)
God loves us so much He’ll go to great lengths to make us more like Jesus. He says this in His Word.
But notice what parts are present tense and which are past:
It is good that I was afflicted.
The Psalmist is writing this after the fact. At the time it didn’t seem good. But now it’s good. Now that the broken bone has been set and healed stronger than ever. Now that the season has changed and those pruned limbs have born beautiful fruit. Now that I can see in the rearview mirror His faithfulness through it all.
So what do we do in the middle of it all?
Worship. Wait. Wonder. Wrestle. To name just a few.
We wrestle with the questions and the sea of emotions. We wonder why on earth God would let this happen. We wait on Him, trusting that somehow He will take us through. And we worship Him in the midst, knowing that He is good, right, and perfect.
You are good and do good.
From 2017 but so applicable today too. THIS is what brings authentic thanksgiving from our lives. It goes beyond counting our temporal blessings (which are abundant!) to thanking God for His steady pursuit of us, even when it means pain, because it means He is unrelenting in seeking our good.
{Happy Thanksgiving. Thank you for reading.}
The mindset that will make or break our mood
Is it just me, or do you find it strange how we can walk through the most difficult trial with joy, but then some trivial situation can completely throw us for a loop?
As I’ve shared, this fall we walked through another miscarriage, and an extremely busy season. It was emotionally and physically exhausting, but I experienced SO MUCH JOY. Even when experiencing the emotions of grief, I still had this constant sense of joy.
Then, we finished this 2-month sprint, and found ourselves so excited to fly away to sunny Arizona and enjoy a week of relaxation and play together as a family.
Our flight went well, Justice was a champ, and we were so grateful for the kindness of a dear friend who took us to the airport (at 4am!) AND generously contributed to our trip. All went well as we caught an Uber ride to our rental house (we decided not to rent a car since we can just walk everywhere in sunny Arizona). Then, as soon as we walked into the rental house, I went to change and as I made the slightest bend forward, I threw my neck and back completely out.
Within seconds of arriving, I was flat on the couch and could not move.
I won’t bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say that day included eventually walking (!) to a chiropractor, and then, while there, the mother of all monsoon rain storms struck (the chiropractor took pity on me and drove me home!), and it rained for three days straight. So much for our idea of lounging by the pool!
We still had much to be grateful for, but after a few days my joy was wearing very thin. It’s crazy how much constant pain just wears you down. I felt cold all the time, my back hurt so bad, and as the days went by this mama was beginning to get grumpy. I sent a text to a friend saying please pray for my attitude, and we decided to go for a walk during a break in the rain.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes when I’m in the middle of a funk I’m like, “Ok, Lord, but HOW do I rejoice? I know the answer is rejoice. But how?”
Usually, I think the answer involves thanksgiving, and that is very true, but as I silently prayed and walked, another subtle mindset surfaced.
You’ve shifted your mindset from being a servant to being served.
Yes. Oh my, that was exactly it. During those busy months, even though there were hard things happening, my constant mindset was that my purpose was to serve others. I was concerned with serving my children, serving the women at the events, serving others at the theater events.
Serving others was the underlying, unspoken purpose that motivated my actions.
No wonder there was joy.
But how quickly that mindset slips when we’re “on vacation”! How quickly that mindset slips when I’M tired. I’M in pain. I’M cold. Each of those things, while valid, pull our gaze inward, constantly inward. And slowly my purpose begins to slip — off of being a servant and onto expecting to be served.
And just like that, joy’s gone.
The moment I begin to see life through Self, my joy flees. I quickly grow resentful of my husband and kids. It seems that even the baby is out to demand too much of me!
What amazed me, once again, was how quickly we can slip back on that good, healthy, servant mindset, and how quickly that joy can return! On our walk, in an instant, I could mentally shift my perspective and remind myself that my call to be a servant isn’t something I can ever take a vacation from!
Jesus doesn’t call us to lay down our lives and serve others “except when you’re on vacation, then you can indulge your flesh and put yourself first.” No way! Jesus knows that the only way to find life is to lose it! It doesn’t matter if I’m on vacation or in the middle of the most demanding busy season, SERVING OTHERS IS ALWAYS THE PATH TO LIFE.
Why? Because serving others IS serving Jesus.
And serving Jesus is where life is found. Always.
This week, let’s enJOY thanksgiving by genuinely serving those around us. Let’s take joy in blessing, giving, serving those around us. I know it’s easier said than done sometimes, but let’s give it all we got! Bless you, friends. Thanks for reading.
Pt 3 Surprising lessons from our recent loss
{Continuing on…} A couple days later a lifelong friend of mine (one of the friends who had shared the “Nothing Can Take My Hallelujah” song with me) asked how I was doing. I shared honestly with her how sad I felt, but also told her about the Ezekiel word. She was the first person I shared it with, and it sounded a little weird even as I wrote it. I had also forgotten that she had had a dream about me (she has an remarkably prophetic dream-life) at the beginning of this year, and she had said that the gist of the dream was that nothing could take my hallelujah. Now, when I shared with her the bit about Ezekiel, she responded by saying she should probably share the actual details of that dream (that I had never heard). She wrote:
You lost a child. I saw you at the grocery store buying oranges. You were walking through the store standing tall, no sadness on your face, maybe even humming a happy tune while you went about your “work” of grocery shopping. I watched it all as if a fly on the wall. I was offended & upset that you were ok!!! I didn’t believe it was possible for God to give that level of peace. To me there seemed to be something fake & artificial about it because I couldn’t wrap my mind around God taking away all sadness & truly giving that kind of joy.
So that is why when I was praying about the dream later that morning & God so clearly spoke “nothing can take Kari’s Hallelujah” that I began to understand the work that He would do.
It is so amazing that He has given you the example of Ezekiel & his wife. I have no idea what it means on a larger scale…if there is a prophetic message for humanity in what He is asking you to do. But I trust He will continue to speak to you & make it clear. Undoubtedly others will be impacted as you obey.
First of all, what a precious friend she is! And second, this was an incredible confirmation to me that this path WAS exactly what God had for me.
It also gave me peace, realizing that long before any of this ever happened, God knew and even informed my dear friend, via a dream, so that when the time came that I needed that confirmation, that she would have it to give. I was so in awe of God’s care!
It is now exactly a month from the ultrasound—I feel like I could share a dozen more stories of God’s faithfulness this month, but for sake of time I’m going to bullet-point the highlights, and hopefully expand on these more in the future.
- Step out in weakness, the strength will come. The first time I went to speak, right after the ultrasound, I was an emotional mess during worship, wondering how I could communicate three messages in one day when all I wanted to do was curl up and cry. Just moments before speaking, there was no strength or joy. And then somehow, as I literally put one foot in the front of the other, up the steps, to the podium, up to the mic, God gave me a CRAZY overwhelming joy and peace. Truly! I felt like I had Him with me in a way that surpassed what I’ve ever experienced before. Every time I went to share His Word this month, and have felt weak in myself, He has shown Himself so strong. But it took actually stepping out, trusting that the strength would meet me there.
- Emotions don’t get to rule. He gave me so many opportunities to practice submitting my emotions to His lordship. I honestly think this is one of the most under-practiced spiritual disciplines of our day. Emotions are not bad, but we can become a slave to them when we let them be lead us. See, it wasn’t that I didn’t have emotions this month–oh my goodness, I did! But I usually experienced sadness or grief at times when it wasn’t appropriate to express those feelings. I have a lot to learn here, but it was really helpful to gain experience at having to place my own emotions aside for the sake of others.
- FLEE the pity party! He continually crashed my self-pity party. Nope, never, nada, not going to let me go there. Self-pity is just about as toxic as can be! Honest grieving is one thing, but self-pity refuses gratitude and intentionally wallows in self. It’s poison!
- God’s strength IS made perfect in weakness. I saw hundreds of women connect with God’s word and respond to His freeing truth, and got to have dozens of conversations with precious people, seeing the way God is moving mightily in their lives.
- Weep with those who weep. This was a HUGE blessing: I gained some valuable insight into different ways we respond to grieving friends and took notes about what was helpful 😉 … and hopefully learned some ways to be a better friend when others are grieving.
- God also cares about ME. The biggest thing I was learning through this month was, hands down, that my little life is part of something SO MUCH BIGGER and if I’m willing to embrace the fact that it’s not about me, and accept that even my sorrow is part of something good and big and glorious, for God’s glory, then I will get to see Him move mightily. But, it’s also true that He cares for the sparrow and He care for me. I’m not just a expendable chess piece in His hand. God does’t just use me, He LOVES me. The actual process of miscarrying (that I won’t share here) was an amazing example of this. It did take place while Jeff was out of town, but God was WITH ME in tremendous ways. He cared for me and took care of me.
- I have a part to play in God’s plan. I also learned some very practical ways to strengthen and support my body, and take seriously the role I have in cooperating with God in His plan. This isn’t “on me” but it also isn’t done without me. If I believe God’s good word in my life I will do whatever it takes to prepare myself, my heart, my mind, and my body, to carry out His will. Often we separate physical from spiritual, but disciplining our bodies is an integral part of our spiritual health. Another often-neglected part of our spiritual lives!
I apologize for the bullet-points. I just wanted to share this briefly, before I run out of Justice’s nap time. 😉 As far as our story goes, it continues. It’s not over.
I welcome your prayers for the future chapters, unread by us, but already written by Him.
Thanks for reading.
Pt 2: Surprising lessons from our recent loss
A few days after my ultrasound, morning sickness kicked in in full force. I was actually thrilled about this. I usually get sick right around 6 weeks, and that timing would line up exactly with the ultrasound dating. I also shared with several people and can’t hearing story after story of how they had had the same scenario, and baby just wasn’t as far along as they’d thought. A later ultrasound revealed a healthy, growing baby.
So that encouraged me. I found myself with all the familiar feelings of nausea, food aversions, all that good stuff. It was so comforting; I had never been so happy to feel awful! This continued for almost two weeks. I definitely felt weak, emotionally and physically, but there was nothing to do but keep putting one foot in front of the other. On a Thursday morning, I spoke to a lovely group of moms at Hearts at Home, then drove for my next ultrasound, feeling very hopeful and encouraged. I tried not to have expectations, but inwardly I thought through some scenarios for telling our families. I knew our kids would be wild with excitement, as they both want another baby. I prayed over the phone with a friend, and headed in.
As the technician began, I could see the dating/measurements on the screen: about 7 weeks. That lined up perfectly with my midwife’s prediction, so I breathed a sigh of relief. But then she finished and went to consult the doctor. Usually, I knew, they let you listen to baby’s heartbeat before they finish.
I sat in the chair, focusing my thoughts on truth, reminding myself over and over that no matter what happened, God was good and it would be ok. Beside me, a blurry black-and-white photo slipped out of the machine. There was my tiny baby. I stared at it, wondering weird things like, “Would they print me a photo if the baby were dead? Maybe that’s a good sign?” She came back in.
“There is no cardiac activity, so our work with you is done.” She opened the door for me to leave, then looked at the photo and hesitated. “Do you want the photo?”
I told her yes please, and thank you and the room started spinning and I walked, without seeing, back into the waiting room to pay my bill. The receptionist said to wait until she could figure out the a correct coding. So I sat in the waiting room and picked a spot on the ceiling to stare. Not yet. Don’t cry yet. Don’t cry yet. Hold on. Just hold on. I thumbed a two-word text to Jeff: No heartbeat.
After ten minutes or so, she figured out the coding. I smiled and thanked her so much for her time and she looked in my eyes and saw everything and her face silently said, I’m so sorry.
I walked out into the incongruent brightness of the sun, finally found refuge in my car, and … I don’t know how to describe it. Maybe you’ve felt it, where grief feels like it will swallow you whole. Where suddenly the accumulation of grief rushes up, and it’s not just one dead baby, it’s all of them and all of it, and I told God it feels like by the time this life is over I will just be a crushed, ragged, ripped-to-shreds heart that has been broken so many times it’s beyond repair.
And as I poured my heart out to God, looking for some comfort, some sympathy, the same verse came to mind again and again:
Be patient in affliction, be constant in prayer.
Romans 12:12
Honestly I felt a little like, That’s it, God? My heart is crushed and Your answer is “be patient”?!
Be patient in affliction, be constant in prayer.
Back home, I tried to avoid the questioning eyes of my kids, and fled to the refuge of my bed. Again, everything in me wanted to slip, sink, let myself go down into the depths of sorrow. All of it overwhelmed me. Another miscarriage? I’m traveling every weekend for the next month! When will it happen? Jeff’s going to Kentucky for a week, what if it happens while he’s gone? Will I be okay all alone? How can I keep traveling and speaking and going about life with a dead baby in my belly and not knowing when I will miscarry?
And, so strangely, over the next few hours, God’s good Word to me was not at all what I expected. It caught me so off guard. I didn’t like it, but had to believe. If He’s a good God, and His Word is good, then this word must be good. Out of Ezekiel, of all places:
The word of the Lord came to me: “Son of man, with one blow I am about to take away from you the delight of your eyes. Yet do not lament or weep or shed any tears. Groan quietly; do not mourn for the dead. Keep your turban fastened and your sandals on your feet; do not cover your mustache and beard or eat the customary food of mourners.”
Ezekiel 24:15-18
So I spoke to the people in the morning, and in the evening my wife died. The next morning I did as I had been commanded.
With kindness in His voice, God told me to “groan quietly; do not mourn for the dead.” In other words, Dry your tears, wash your face, and serve others. Put their interests above your sorrow. Don’t cancel anything. Don’t change any plans. Walk out the events of this next month and be patient in affliction.
Even re-writing this, tears well up a tiny bit. This was a hard word to receive. I wouldn’t have believed it was God if it hadn’t been straight from the Bible. I knew not everyone would understand (I didn’t, entirely!). They might think I was just faking, or pretending to be fine. I didn’t exactly know how it would work. But I got up the next morning and hosted company and served pumpkin bread with a smile and prepared for the next day’s speaking events and in alone moments cried quietly and asked God to please help me do what felt impossible on my own. I’m sure you, friends, have had to do hard things like this too…
More in a bit–good, joyful stuff! Thanks for hanging with me through the sad. It’s okay, really. He’s in it all. Bless you, friends. Thanks for reading.
Pregnancy Loss: Reflections on our 3 miscarriages
I’ve so missed sharing with you, all of you (guys, you’re welcome too)! I’ve missed writing, as that is often how God helps clarify and solidify what He’s teaching me. I have not had an hour of free time (besides morning Word/prayer times and Sunday afternoons when I nap!), since early September–no exaggeration. We have been in a season of running hard, and I don’t regret a second of it. It has been rich, fruitful, difficult, and so very good.
Seasons are just that, seasons. In two weeks, when the bulk of my speaking commitments are through and Heidi’s play is over, we’re taking off for a week as a family, to rest and play together. I’m excited for that time together, but I don’t feel desperate for it. This season has been good. That season will be good. Paul said he knew how to roll with every season and be content in it, not just when it’s over. I guess that’s part of what I’m learning too.
Many of you have traveled with us on this journey of having more children. Long story short, in 2016, after a 40-day fast, through a number of confirmations and circumstances, Jeff and I both sensed God leading us to get a vasectomy reversal and have two more children. He gave us two names: Honor and Justice. I was completely caught off guard when Honor was lost. I’d never experienced miscarriage, and God used it to bring up many thing in both Jeff and me that needed to be worked through. He gave me a new girl name: Hope.
Several months later, I was pregnant again. Thrilled. This time I carried 11 weeks before learning Our Hope is in Heaven. Physically, that miscarriage was horrendous, but afterward, I felt tremendous peace. The timing just so happened that just two days later we had a beach vacation planned with our dearest friends, and I felt enveloped in a cocoon of love, prayer, grace, not to mention amazing meals and tons of relaxation. There was grief, but it was like falling into a fluffy friendship cloud of comfort.
In Scripture, especially in the OT, we often see names having great significance, often related to the spiritual state of the parents’ hearts, or what was going on in the culture at large. I never experienced any of this sort of significance with our older children, but for whatever reason, this time around names have been very significant. Also, each miscarried child has had a name.
The day I miscarried with Hope, we had our church’s prayer meeting that night–so clearly I heard “Hallelujah.” I wrote the name across the top of my journal page, then jotting down “Halle” (rhymes with Sally) for short.
I loved that name, and was so excited. I thought she would be born next. A few months later I became pregnant, and two trusted friends separate shared a dream/vision that I was having a boy. And I was:
Justice.
Our amazing, chubby bundle of smiles, Justice has forever changed our lives. His late arrival and delivery brought its own series of lessons (Wasted work; Joy; Psalm 131, Preparations; Delivery). We can’t imagine our lives without him.
He was worth the wait.
So you can imagine our joy when, this September, I found out I was pregnant again. Yes! I had hoped to have baby #2 before I turned 40, and this would make my delivery date just a couple weeks before that date. I started praying for little Halle, our little bean-sized baby.
I did kind of wonder what this journey would entail. Last spring, I had two friends separately share the song, “Nothing can take my Hallelujah” with me. I thought, perhaps, difficult circumstances would surround her birth. I thought the physical birth of “Praise Yahweh” would represent joy in the midst of difficulty.
My midwife scheduled an ultrasound at 7 weeks to see how everything looked. We hadn’t told the kids yet, wanting to wait until everything looked good, so I sneaked in an ultrasound while Heidi was at theater practice and Jeff was with the boys.
It showed baby measuring 5.5 weeks, with no heartbeat. My heart sank.
BUT. Both the technician and my midwife were convinced everything was fine. Often dating can be off, and everything looked good otherwise, so they figured it was slightly too early for heartbeat, so we’d “just wait” and see in a week or two.
While in the office, I thought I was fine. But as soon as I got in my car, a torrent of emotion came. I sobbed to God,
“I cannot do this again. I cannot keep having my heart torn apart.”
I begged him to please let this baby live.
Part of what was overwhelming was the fact that I had eleven speaking engagements this fall, including 5 straight weekends of traveling, giving 20+ messages, plus Heidi’s theater schedule of 3 days/week and a solid week of working backstage for dress-rehearsals plus working eight shows. I had already felt overwhelmed by how to navigate all the commitments.
And now I had to “just wait” to see if the baby inside me was dead or alive? We hadn’t shared about the pregnancy. Our kids didn’t know, families didn’t know. It felt strangely lonely to just keep going along as usual, not knowing whether I carried life or death. That evening, after my ultrasound, a friend and I were hosting a baby shower. It was the last thing I wanted to do, honestly. I was exhausted from crying and my flesh so wanted to just be home and be sad all by myself. But so clearly I knew God was saying, Set yourself aside for the sake of serving others.
But it’s so HARD to set ourselves aside. It takes dying! And there’s nothing more clear in Scripture:
“In humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
Phil. 2:3-4
Every Christlike act of love takes the willingness to set ourselves aside for the sake of serving others. This is the very essence of what Jesus did, and that He calls us to do.
It takes humbling ourselves to prioritize others’ needs above our feelings. Philippians 2:5-8 says this is exactly what Jesus did.
The next weekend, I was flying to Colorado to speak at a conference. I was nervous about flying, but once again, knew God’s will was clear: Trust Me. It would take me trusting Him with my body, my heart, my emotions. I was still very sick with morning sickness, so it was a tiring trip, but the ladies were amazing and I could SEE God be strong as I felt so weak. It felt good to focus on others and get the joy of seeing God move.
On my flight home, as I sat exhausted with my hand resting on my belly, praying, I heard the young guy next to me telling the person next to him how grateful he was that his girlfriend was able to get an abortion for $75 instead of $400.
Tears silently slipped down my cheek. For him. For this broken world. For all that’s just so wrong. For the babies unwanted and the babies so desperately wanted and the incongruity of it all and knowing this is only a drop in the ocean of sorrow that is a reality in our world. And knowing the Father can and will sort it all out but the meantime…
We groan inwardly as we wait eagerly…
Rom. 8:21-23
And I whispered into the darkness, “Sort it out, God. Please. Sort it out.”
{Time to get back to my kiddos; I’ll write more soon}
Why is it so hard to trust the process?
Hello, friends! I’m sorry I haven’t been writing much around here lately. We’re in a busy season, but I do have a story of God’s faithfulness to share with you soon. Hoping to write about it tonight. For today, I wanted to pass along this praise, of how good God has been to us as we journey through the homeschool process. Even if you don’t homeschool, there are so many ways that it’s JUST SO HARD to trust the process, to be patient, to wait, to stay the course. I hope this can be encouraging to you. More soon… Thanks for reading. Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool…
Wins that look like losses
Even now, though I don’t know his name, my eyes fill with tears thinking of him. He doesn’t know that he gained himself a prayer warrior last night.
Sixty-seven youth, aged 8-18 filed into the building for auditions for the Christian Youth Theater’s upcoming performance of Mary Poppins. Widely varying abilities, all shapes and sizes, each one would take his or her turn on stage, all alone, standing on the X in front of the six artistic judges. Each one would sing, some would say a few lines.
All would show tremendous courage.
This was my first experience watching youth auditions, and my eyes welled up with tears more than once. I was so incredibly inspired by the courage each kid demonstrated and truly stunned by the level of talent displayed. These kids can SING! One girl sang I Have Confidence from The Sound of Music and it sounded straight-up Julie Andrews–amazing!
But the very best auditioner of the whole night, the one who brought me to full-tears, the one who showed the most valiant display of courage that maybe I have ever witnessed, the biggest win of the night…
…was a little boy who never even made it to the song.
As he stood up I could barely even see his head, he was very small. Within seconds, as he made his way toward the front, we could all see his state. His dark head bowed low, eyes straight down at his feet, shoulders hunched over. His dark-skinned arms folded tightly in on his chest, his hands wringing back in forth in obvious agitation.
We held our breath. I leaned forward in my seat. Everything in me came alive in attention. Come on, champ. You can do this.
He shuffled his way to the front, he tried to look up at the judges. He tried to remember what to say.
The coordinator smiled kindly and offered, “What’s your name?” He mumbled something no one could hear. She smiled. “Great. What song are you singing?” He mumbled something else no one could hear.
I leaned forward and smiled, fighting back tears, desperately trying to impart some trace of courage into his precious soul.
It was silent.
His fear was palpable.
And then the music began.
Wild panic filled his eyes. I swallowed hard. Please, Jesus. Please.
He stood, stricken, for a few agonizing moments.
And then he fled, in a dead run, off the stage.
We all exhaled.
Oh God. I wanted to leap from my seat and run and find him and swoop him up and hide him in my arms. I wanted to somehow impart to his soul that he is precious. That he was the most brave person of the whole night. That the God of the Universe was so incredibly proud of him and that he had value and worth and he was a PRIZE. That he was a STAR.
The audience applauded, just as we did for every performer. Oh Jesus let him know the applause of heaven. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him in the back, tucked into the arms of his light-skinned Mama. I thanked God for her, I wanted to hold HER, as I knew she probably needed to curl up onto someone’s arms just as much as he did.
She showed as much courage as anyone. A little later I saw her slip quietly out the back door, holding her sweet boy’s hand. Oh Jesus please bless her.
The rest of the night went smoothly. As the girls and I got into our car, we talked about that little boy, how he was the most brave of all. On the drive home, we prayed over him.
I prayed that he would grow to be a mighty man of God, that God would do astounding things in his life and that someday he would look back at this day, the day that felt like a fail, and he would know that it was a WIN. That just going up on that stage was a death-blow to the enemy of fear, and just because he didn’t make it to the song, IT WAS STILL A WIN.
Oh friend–Do you know this? Do you know that just the fact that you are doing [fill in the blank], that is a WIN? EVERY step of obedience, EVERY courageous act, EVERY time you say yes to Jesus and you do that thing that scares you half to death, that is a win! Even if you run off stage at the last minute. Even if you end up in a puddle of tears. May you hear the applause of heaven!
And, may we have compassion enough to recognize that what may be easy for us may take tremendous courage for those around us. May we set aside our preoccupation with strength, beauty, success, achievement, and celebrate the quiet courage that it sometime takes to just show up.
Cheering for you. Thanks for reading.
The surprising path to rest
Ouch. That stings. I can usually tell I’m hurt by someone or something because I inwardly begin a monologue about why I’m justified in feeling how I do, how I would explain to someone else why this was so hurtful, or I would begin mentally drafting a message to the person explaining why what they did was wrong, etc.
In a word, I protest.
Thankfully, I’m (slowly) learning a better way. I sat down with the Word, the only Truth, the Anchor, and slipped into quiet conversation with my Heavenly Father, and asked Him to help me see the situation through His eyes, not mine.
Mine are often so desperately clouded by pride and immaturity.
My eye fell to my passage for the day, beginning in Psalm 94:
Blessed is the man whom you discipline, O LORD, and whom you teach out of your law, to give him rest from days of trouble, until a pit is dug for the wicked.
Ps. 94:12
Ah, yes. That’s the truth of it, right? We get stuck on the details of the situation, forgetting that God’s gracious hand is over all and in all and through all.
Discipline. It comes in the form of stings.
I had a smile. Of course I’m back in the days of toddler-training, and I’m rediscovering all over again how my Father trains me.
Justice, of course, is a constant joy in our lives. He’s our miracle baby and we can’t imagine life without him. He’s also SO VERY BUSY. Just this morning he played a fun game breaking eggs all over the floor. Well, back in June I had an eye-opening experience where I realized I’d really been slacking in disciplining him. One day he was climbing up the fireplace (again) and I was too busy to discipline him, and Heidi said,
“It’s only going to get harder to train him if you wait.”
I knew she was right. The truth was, it was unloving of me to allow Justice to behave in ways that I’d only have to later discipline him for. Almost like it was deceiving. My actions were saying, “This is fine today, but tomorrow it won’t be.” I knew what I needed to do.
So I set aside three days for training. With my bright-pink little lightweight ruler (weighs .5 ounce!) I spent every waking moment near Justice. We went through all the various activities we always do, and with my little ruler-flick on his thigh (just enough for a little sting), I taught him the new normal–what things are okay and what things are not. Some things took a long time, I let him play with a marble but gave him a flick if he put it in his mouth (I want to make sure he’s safe around small objects). It took about ten flicks before he finally figured it out, but then he never put it in his mouth again! The kids sat there and played marbles with him and he happily played along and never put it in his mouth.
When he would obey, I’d cheer and hug him and he was obviously SO pleased. It really was only about 1.5 hours total of nonstop training, and then just the sight of the ruler and my word no and he would obey.
The biggest thing I noticed was how much HAPPIER he was. It was like his spirit settled because he finally knew what he was supposed to do to please his mama.
Now, obviously I have to continue this, especially in new situations, or as he gains new physical abilities, the process of learning obedience will be lifelong, but I just felt like it was such a picture for me with my Father.
In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.” Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.
Hebrews 12:4-11
I had never noticed how it specifically says, “Endure hardship AS discipline.” Now, obviously the source of our hardship can be a lot of different things (physical suffering, offenses from others, emotional struggles) but in terms of how we RESPOND to it, we are to respond to it AS DISCIPLINE. That is, I can accept that this hardship is helping me to know more clearly how I can please my Father. It’s training! And even though “no discipline seems pleasant” (there’s a sting!) I also see how much HAPPIER Justice is after being trained, and I know the same is true for me. Even though it’s painful, it’s cleansing. Scriptures says,
Blows that wound cleanse away evil; strokes make clean the innermost parts.
Prov. 20:30
So does this have to do with rest?
Often we think that we can’t really train our children because if we really disciplined for every misbehavior then we’d be discipling all day. Well, yes and no. The truth is, YES, it will take all day for ONE DAY. Or maybe 2-3. But 2-3 days of consistent training works wonders in a small child, and the truth is–in the long run you will be REST.
See, we so often get it backwards. We’re too tired to discipline, it’s too exhausting. We need rest. So we don’t train, and then we end up exhausted because our children are whiny, wild, rude, annoying us to no end.
I wrote the following verse on the back of my little pink ruler so it would remind me of the truth:
Discipline your son, and he will give you rest; he will give delight to your heart.
Prov. 29:17
The truth is, if I put in the work now, in the long-run it will bring rest and delight to my soul. AND, as Psalm 94 says, when we are the recipients of discipline, it will also ultimately give us rest. We will have rest in the mist of “days of trouble” — when the world is crazy and full of turmoil, our hearts will have rest because we’ve allowed God to discipline us.
We find true rest not by avoiding the hard stuff. By doing the hard work of discipline–both giving and receiving–we ultimately get the reward of entering into true soul-rest and delight.
If you are in the midst of disciplining, or of receiving a sting of discipline, hang in there! It will bear the fruit of rest in your life! Thanks for reading.
A clean heart
“Get your house ready.”
That was one of the four clear directives God gave me when the Renew ladies began the year with a fast. I wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, honestly, so I sort of ignored it. It didn’t seem nearly as important as praying, reading the Word, and ditching schadenfreude.
But just a few months later, the same idea surfaced again. Not one, not two, but four friends had different dreams, all in one week’s time, that had to do with being prepared. For what, it wasn’t clear, but for me personally it brought back to mind the orders that I had ignored from a months before. I took some specific steps to put things in place, but wasn’t sure what else it meant.
Fast forward to our 16th anniversary. Anniversaries are always a great time to evaluate and talk honestly about where you are and how you need to grow as individuals and as a family. One thing that surfaced, rather dramatically, was how overwhelmed I felt with hosting and keeping up our home, on top of all the other things I was juggling. I was praying about whether to rearrange our budget so I could hire a housecleaner, but having someone come in twice a month and scrub my toilet still didn’t seem like it would solve the bigger issue of overwhelm I was feeling.
Thankfully, my husband is a godly, humble, wise man. He listened to me and cared for me. He heard my genuine cry for help. And though he wasn’t sure what to do, he was willing to do whatever it would take to help me.
I’m chuckling to myself because all this sounds very dramatic and then I’m going to tell you that the FlyLady changed our lives and that shining your sink and swishing your toilet is the path to freedom. Haha—it sounds ridiculous! Bear with me.
Chances are, most of you have already discovered this secret—a few simple habits, done every single day, can change the course of your life.
Something inside reminded me about FlyLady, an online gal who helps you overcome CHAOS (Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome) and gain simple habits that will help you bless your family and your home. I downloaded her app and resolved to do exactly what she told me, no questions asked.
Jeff, bless his soul, also downloaded her app and resolved to do his part as well. It takes a REAL MAN to be willing to put the FlyLady app on his phone!
Day by day, I did what she said, and I. Was. Shocked.
No more overwhelm. No more chaos. No more spending my entire Monday getting ready for Prayer Meeting/Dinner and then my entire Tuesday cleaning up afterwards. The next Monday I found myself with two free hours before anyone arrived. Food was made, my house was clean, the kids were occupied. I SAT DOWN AND READ A BOOK FOR TWO HOURS, PEOPLE.
I found myself so excited to have people over because I wasn’t dreading all the housework that needed to be done.
Now, you might be thinking, “No one cares if your house is clean, just have people over and don’t worry about it.”
I get that. I really do. I have never stressed about having the perfect house. I have NEVER not had someone over just because my house wasn’t clean. I’m so over that. But can I just be honest? It IS stressful when my bathroom is disgusting and the kids rooms are a disaster and my kitchen drawers are full of filth and I’m having twenty people over for dinner, and quite frankly true freedom, at least for me, isn’t “just don’t worry about it.”
Personally, I find joy and peace when things are ordered, reasonably clean (home-clean, not museum-clean), and I can focus on loving people.
The other huge difference I noticed was that during the first eight days of following FlyLady, we were able to have Family Night time with our big kids after Justice was in bed, for eight days in a row! (After that we had family in town which was fun too!)
We were able to have 1-2 hours of quality time with our big kids every single night. Why? Because everything was already in order. There was no martyr-mommy scurrying around the house trying to get some sort of order in place before the next day. There weren’t piles everywhere. We had finished our tasks, things were in place, and we were FREE to be with each other. Yes, please!
So what does all this have to do with one’s heart? Well, I was trying to put my finger on why this method was so much more successful for me than others. And I realized this:
Before, I cleaned by sight. Now, I cleaned by habit.
Here’s what I mean: before, I would clean things when they looked dirty. (Note: when they looked dirty to me.) In my opinion, it was silly to clean something that didn’t need cleaning. But there’s a subtle arrogance in that philosophy. It assumes that MY perspective is authoritative, and it maintains that only the things that BOTHER ME are worth dealing with.
If dirt doesn’t bother me, then who cares?
What if my guests care?
What if God cares?
Part of embracing a lifestyle of hospitality is recognizing our homes are not our own. They don’t exist only for us. They are meant to be missional outposts, given to us a refuge from the storm, for our families and those around us.
As I obeyed the FlyLady, I learned that I needed to do have certain habits in order to KEEP things clean.
Instead of reacting to dirt, I was preventing it.
Instead of looking for dirt, I was looking to the one who knows better than me about how to keep my house clean. I was humbling myself by recognizing that she knows better than me and if I really want her help I need to do what she says, regardless of what my eyes see.
Do you see where I’m going?
It was painfully clear, through this whole month, that this was just a picture of so much more going on in our hearts.
How often do I really do the work to get my heart clean before God? Do I do it when things get dirty? When my sin gets grubby enough that it starts to bother me? When it’s so visible that it’s embarrassing? When it starts getting in the way of my interactions with others?
Or do I deal with the issues in my heart before I even notice them?
Do I want to live life reacting to my sin, or rather do what God says daily in order to prevent it?
Do I want to spend my life looking for sin, or do I want to spend my life looking to God by cultivating the daily habits of Scripture, prayer, repentance, confession.
Here’s what surprised me most: Staying on top of things, via daily habits, actually requires LESS TIME overall. It’s actually easier, in the long run, to stay on top of things.
The same is true with sin.
The world tells me, “Don’t worry about cleaning your house! Just be authentic! Let people see your dirt! Don’t be ashamed of dirt!”
I know it’s just an over-reaction to the hyper-image-conscious plague of Pinterest, but let’s avoid both ditches.
The world also tells us, “Embrace yourself, just the way you are! Don’t let anyone judge you! Be authentic. Whatever you choose is right! You don’t need to clean yourself up at all!”
And yes, this is an over-reaction to performance-based moralistic religion that’s all about keeping up appearances.
But let’s avoid both ditches.
The truth is, I want a clean heart. Whether you see it, know it, or care about it; I long for a clean heart. Why? Because it’s what I was made for. God made me for freedom. He made me for LIFE. He knows that if I live my life bogged down by invisible sin-dirt I’ll never experience the joy of being free, being CLEAN.
He made a way on the cross, and He makes a way for me daily to come to Him in humble repentance and let Him clean up my heart.
Thank you, FlyLady for helping me learn to clean. Thank you, Jesus for saving my soul.
Create in me a clean heart, O God.
Psalm 51:10
Pray without quarreling
Dutch is neck deep in Frank Peretti. He discovered a stack of his books in our church library, and has barely come for air in the last 8 days. It’s made for some great conversations about prayer and the spiritual realm. It got me thinking about a few things this weekend.
It also came on the heels of a recent study we did on prayer, for our women’s Bibles study. It was fascinating and inspiring, and we spend quite a bit of time on 1 Timothy 2. You are probably familiar with this bit:
First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.
v. 1-2
Yes! So good. Especially for our day and age, this is an excellent passage to meditate on and keep front and center.
But there’s a bit more that’s also applicable.
A few verses later Paul writes:
I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling.
v. 8
When talking about prayer, why would Paul toss in a bit about anger and quarreling?
Let’s just say, hypothetically, that one Christian leader called people to pray for something, according to Scripture. And then another Christian leader also prayed over this, according to Scripture. And then a whole bunch of other people decided that they didn’t like how one of them prayed, or how the other one prayed, and so they take sides about which side they should really pray like. Next thing we know we aren’t actually praying at all, we’re quarreling about whose side we’re on and whose prayer is better.
In the meantime, God was actually doing something beautiful in response to both men’s prayers, and millions of others who are actually on their knees lifting up holy hands in imperfect prayer, fumbling their way through, uncertain if they’re doing it right but wanting to seek God even if they aren’t doing it perfectly.
Father, thank you for the privilege we have of relating with You in prayer, and even of impacting the course of history through prayer. It is an enormous privilege that we certainly don’t deserve, but we thank you for it. Please help us to simply pray without getting distracted, defensive, or discouraged. We love you so much. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.