Category Archives: Devotional Thoughts

I just came inside from my walk, so thirsty, and filled the mason jar full of cold water from the tap. It’s a simple routine, my daily walk up and down the driveway, but it’s great exercise, and I love the fresh air and time alone, quiet, to think.

One of the things we love most about this property is the fact that the house is set so far back from the road, and my favorite thing is the long tree-lined driveway that winds down to the house.  It’s very secluded, in fact if it weren’t for the mailbox you wouldn’t even notice the driveway.

Long ago, the original house-site was right up near the road. You can still see the driveway leading off to the side, and the cleared off spot where a mobile home had been. It’s still a lovely spot, but somewhere along the line, someone had been brave and said,

Let’s cut in a new road.

I’m so glad they did. Because the property’s sloped, someone had to do some massive excavating to cut this driveway into place. Same with the house. Originally, the whole property was just sloped, but now there’s a house-site tucked into the trees, and we’re so glad! Sure, we weed and maintain things, but the real work was completed long ago.

I’m also glad that someone did the work of clearing trails. Just moments ago the kids and I were hiking down to the pond, our favorite afternoon pastime. I’m so glad someone did the hard work, and we just get the fun job of maintaining them with our daily walks.

Most of the hard work has already been done. 

This past week in our Armor of God study, we talked about the mind. As I met with several ladies recently, this theme arose again and again: Thought patterns.

Thought patterns are really just walks you take in your mind. You go somewhere with your thoughts. You follow a trail. Some of us rarely even give much thought to what that trail is or where it might be taking us. But there’s no denying this truth: The same thought-path taken over and over, becomes a well-worn trail that we find ourselves traveling again and again, whether we like it or not.

Usually, the destructive paths are the ones that are easy. Certainly, it was much easier for the original owners to just make the driveway way up by the road. No excavating necessary. But the truth is, there’s so much more beauty when we do the hard work of cutting in a new road, way deep into the glorious woods.

Our destructive thought-patterns are usually the ones that are easy. No resistance needed. No real mind-training needed. No battle. We’re slipped suggestions every single day, “Just meander down this mind-trail, it’s so easy…”

So we do. We meander to nursing wounds or feeding pride or silently criticizing others. We meander to worldliness and vanity, we meander to ungratefulness and entitlement.

Oh there are so many easy paths presented to us each day!

But what about cutting a new one?! Are we willing? There is so much BEAUTY if we will do the hard work of excavating out the recesses of our minds, and cutting new roads deep into truth, deep into glorious truth.

The real hard work must only be done once. After that, it’s just maintenance. Once we declare war on destructive mind-walks and begin to set our minds on things above (Col. 3:2), and purposefully think about what is true, honorable, just, lovely, commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise (Phil 4:8), we will find it easier and easier to travel that road again and again. And there is such fruit!

The fruit is peace, joy, love. The fruit is a settled faith and unshakable confidence because our mind is stayed on Him.

May we cut in new roads deep into the beauty of His truth, and enjoy the daily thought-walks along the paths of His glorious grace. 

{Happy weekend! Thanks for reading.}

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Phil. 4:8

So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Psalm 90:12

It wasn’t what we expected, of course, when we planned the big family camping trip. But it was remarkable, that although we’re spread out over hundreds of miles, we would just all happen to be together, literally within a few feet of each other, when the cell phone rang and we heard that news: Grandma had passed away. Within seconds, Dad had his dear wife, son, and daughter all gathered round him, arms holding him tight. Gratitude flowed as freely as our tears, so glad that we could all be together. Together to grieve, but together to rejoice too, remembering Grandma Mary and her 98 years of life.

We spent the week remembering, laughing and crying, praying, again just grateful to be together, providentially put out in a campground with no urgent tasks or jobs or places to go. Plenty of time for reflecting, and of course, enjoying Papa’s very favorite pastime: Boating. 

Just a few days later, hundreds of us ladies gathered to consider Jesus’ Great Commission, looking together at His call to go and make disciples of all nations. We marveled at all that Jesus accomplished in His short life. So intentional. So deliberate. His time was short. He made his mark.

He influenced a few so significantly that the world was never the same. 

During the conference, I was struck by a side conversation I had with another gal, who’d had a cancer scare.

I was struck, simply, by our smallness. 

I am not the only one who can speak at a conference. I am not the only one who can love, feed, and clothe my children. I am not even the only one who could care for my husband. It is, perhaps, hard to swallow, but someone else could easily fill my spot.

And someday they will. For all of us. We come. We go. 

The next day, we family gathered again, this time around an open grave. No matter how much we prepare ourselves emotionally for such events, it’s like a punch. We sat around her coffin as Jeff stood and led us in remembering her life, her strength and resolve, her determination and tireless devotion to her family. He drew our attention to the gospel, to our hope. To Jesus. It was captivating.

But then it was over. The service ended, and a few minutes later, her body was already lowered into the ground, dirt slowly covering her coffin.

Several hours later, I sat outside my parents’ house, sorting through the last of grandma’s stuff. Some jewelry, crochet needles, a quilt that still smelled like her. I tucked those few precious things into the back of our car, and left the rest in boxes in the back of Dad’s truck. Ready to go to Goodwill.

And just like that, she’s gone. Her belongings distributed. Her body buried.

Of course her memory lives on, and her spirit lives on. It’s not that I mean to ignore this glorious truth. But even at 98 years, longer than most of us will ever have … life’s still so short. In the grand scheme, even 98 years is just a breath.

So this morning, as curl up with coffee and read,

“The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty (or 98!) … they are soon gone, and we fly away… So teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” Psalm 90:10,12

I don’t like death. I don’t like grieving. I hate crying. But the events of this last week have been good for my soul. The brevity of life brings priceless perspective, and although we might be easily replaced, although others may easily fill our roles or perform our tasks, our lives will forever leave a mark.

How so?

On those around us. 

The belongings will go to Goodwill someday. Someone else will fill our spot or do our job or carry on where we left off. But our significance is in our influence.

What mark are we leaving on those around us? 

In the words of my brother, my grandma’s love wasn’t sappy or sentimental, but it was substantive. Sounds just like Jesus’ kind of love to me. And so we were all shaped, changed, bettered, in some way or other, by her substantive love.

Though life is a breath, I believe this is the heart of wisdom we need to gain: Our lives matter because they make a mark on everyone around us. Praying we will know our smallness, and yet also know our unique privilege of making a forever-mark on everyone around us.

May someone be shaped, changed, bettered, in some way or other, by your substantive love. 

Thank you for reading.

I waved goodbye to the kids, walked straight to the room where I’d be staying, collapsed on the bed … and sobbed.  Gasping-for-air sobs, tears streaming, snot running, can’t-see kind of sobs, hoping no one could hear me.

What NOW, Lord? 

Sure, I had prepared for this conference. I had 37 pages of notes, it’s not like I’d been napping all summer, but something still hadn’t clicked, I didn’t have the same sense of readiness, confidence, and anticipation that I’d always had before.

I remember Beth Moore saying she often had to face the fear, “Oh no, what if THIS is the one, the one where God doesn’t show up?!!!”

I could relate. I’d recently had lunch with a lovely woman of God, also a speaker, and we’d related about the fact that we, like everyone else of course, are utterly lost without God’s power and Spirit. Not just sorta kinda. Utterly. There is NOTHING I can do in my own strength to effect life-change in others, or myself.

It is an uncomfortable feeling, this utter-dependence thing.

Especially when there are hundreds of eager faces awaiting, all ears, ready for a Word from God. I looked around the room, if only there was a way to escape!  But I was dropped off at the camp, I didn’t even have a getaway car! 🙂

Of course I’m exaggerating, but not much! Those of you who have ever stepped out in faith in any way know this feeling: What if I step on the water and I SINK?! 

Thankfully, I knew the truth: You set the sails and wait for wind. 

Because I’m not alone in this, and neither are you. We all have to get from point A to point B, by faith. We can either believe we’re in a rowboat, miserably working all by ourselves, sweating and straining and stressing and moving very slowly. Or we can believe we’re in a jetboat, blissfully remarking, “Just let go and let God, man!” and completely ignore our very real part of the process.

But the truth is, the spiritual life is akin to sailing. 

There’s work that we can do, and there’s a lot of work we can’t.

We work and we wait. 

Our job is to set the sails. We create an environment where the wind of the Spirit can work. If we neglect our hearts, our habits, if we lazily pursue pleasure instead of doing the hard work of repentance, prayer, and raising the sails of God’s Word, we will miss the power and joy of His work in our lives.

But when we set the sails well, we can rest, wait, without fear, without anxiety.

Because it’s the wind that moves us, there will be fast seasons, slow seasons … still seasons. This is ok. This is normal. We must know the difference between stillness and stagnancy.

Is the stillness because of the wind, or because we’ve neglected our sails?

No checklist here or easy answers, but as we grow, we learn. We learn how to set the sails, and wait.

That first night at the conference, God’s wind blew in a powerful way. As some precious sisters in Christ stood on that stage before me and finished the work of setting our sails, and God was faithful to move us.

I learned all over again how to ditch the rowboat, the speedboat, the FEARboat! I learned all over again how to set the sails and wait. Our God is a mighty wind and He is faithful.

“…Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.” Phil. 2:12-13

*This post is from last year, but I find myself feeling exactly the same way, OFTEN. Right? I prayed this week, “Oh Lord, I feel so inadequate.” Although I feel like that, I know the truth. I AM inadequate to move a sailboat in my own strength. I know I am inadequate to cross a vast body of water, in my own strength. But I have set my sails and I have placed my hope in Him and HE IS FAITHFUL.  Amen?! Amen! So, would you also please be praying for us this weekend as we gather for the CBNW Regional women’s camp conference! We have set the sails and wait on the wind of God’s faithful power and presence, to do His good work in our hearts and lives. And what about you? Where do you need to go, spiritually speaking? How can you set the sails and wait for His wind? Thanks so much for praying, and for reading. 

I’ve been chewing on this verse, where Jesus says, “When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hyprocrites … When you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:16-18).

Seems pretty clear. He’s telling us to fast in secret, not for show. He said the same thing about praying, He said to go in your prayer closet and pray in private. Prayer is not for show.

But I’ve always wondered, What about corporate prayer? What about corporate fasting? Clearly you can’t keep your church prayer meeting a secret — ha! And there are loads of examples of corporate fasting in the scriptures, I can’t even list them all, but let’s just say I’ve been overwhelmed by the amount of times godly people met a challenge, crisis, war, dilemma, or struggle with a call to corporate fasting. Obviously that can’t be in secret.

Lou Engle helped settle this for me in his phenomenal book, The Jesus Fast. He basically just says, of course corporate fasting can’t be a secret, just don’t make it a big deal.

It seems a fair overarching principle then, the essence of what Jesus is saying is, “Don’t draw attention to yourself.” In other words, “Don’t make it about you.” This applies to fasting, praying, giving, anything. Right?

Serve Jesus faithfully, obey fully, and don’t make it about you.

Draw attention to Jesus. 

The end.

For now, I would love to just draw your attention once again to the book I mentioned before, The Jesus Fast. It’s an absolute steal on Amazon, a buy you won’t regret.

So far, it’s been interesting how the Lord has directed a sort of theme, or overarching impression each day. One of the most prominent has been this: Holy Obedience: going with God the other half of the way.

One of my reads (slowly reading and chewing on and praying through) has been A Testament of Devotion by Thomas Kelly. I’ve quoted this book often, but only because I’ve seen the quotes in other books, I’ve never actually read it! I figured it was time. Wow. Talk about timely. Written in 1941, it’s right on time for today:

“‘There are plenty to follow our Lord half-way, but not the other half. They will give up possessions, friends, and honors, but it touches them too closely to disown themselves.’ It is just this astonishing life which is willing to follow Him the other half, sincerely to disown itself, this life which intends complete obedience, without any reservations, that I would propose to you in all humility, in all boldness, in all seriousness. I mean this literally, utterly, completely, and I mean it for you and for me — commit your lives in unreserved obedience to Him.

If you don’t realize the revolutionary explosiveness of this proposal you don’t understand what I mean. Only now and then comes a man or woman who, like John Woolman or Francis of Assisi, is willing to be utterly obedient, to go the other half, to follow God’s faintest whisper. But when such a commitment comes in a human life, God breaks through, miracles are wrought, world-renewing divine forces are released, history changes” (26).

This week I heard the glorious, beautiful song by Lindy Conant and the Circuit Riders, Take Courage. She sings,

“There’s a YES in our hearts, and it carries to eternity. Simple obedience changes history.”

Yes. That’s it. The yes. Live the yes. Go the other half. When this kind of complete obedience comes in a human life, God breaks through, miracles are wrought, world-renewing divine forces are released …

… history changes.

{Asking God to work in us this glorious holy obedience, the YES in our hearts that changes history. Thank you for reading.}

I walked in just now dripping wet to get a drink. I don’t even want to dry off, the water feels so good, cool beads down my neck, my back, puddles at my feet. Now, I sip ice water and at the simple joy of thirst quenched. I can feel the water hydrating my cells almost immediately.

Refreshing can happen so fast. From scorched to soaked, in an instant. Such a picture of what’s happening inside:

A return to the well.

I’d been swimming around, still, in Psalm 63. Still struck by the imagery, the thirsting and longing, then the joy and deep satisfaction. I knew something had been off. Prayer felt forced, rote, tasks joyless, writing laborious, even my sacred mundane seemed stagnant, uneventful. All the needs around me, all those leaning into me, all the straws sucking me dry, I started to resent them.

We can return to the well in an instant, but how do we drink? How? Too often I  swing between “going hard for God” mode and then “rest and do what I want” mode. Rest is good, but selfishness leaves us emptier than ever. “Me first” will suck us drier than a thousand straws.

How do we drink?

I sat, out, in the sun, while the kids ran off to play. Something kept me from opening the laptop again. Although there are speaking notes to finish and preparations to be made, something urged me back to The Heavenly Man. I opened to my place, and could barely believe what I read:

“Because I’d been operating in my own strength for months, I was physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted. My spiritual eyesight had grown dim and my hearing dull. Pride has sprung up in my heart like a choking weed. Instead of obeying God’s voice, I reasoned with human logic and based my decisions on my own wisdom. …

… Working for God had taken the place of loving God. … I was still getting up every morning at five o’clock and praying, and I was still reading my Bible every day, but I was doing these things out of obligation and habit, and not from a willing heart flowing from my relationship with Jesus. (184)

My eyes widened. I literally could have written those exact words myself. There is nothing like reading your own confession laid out by another honest, humble soul who’s brave enough to go first. It’s a gift to others when we confess our sin one to another, even through the pages of a book. Through it, we’re healed.

That was it. How to drink: It sounds strange, but you have to swallow.

Sure, for many of us, we never go to the well. We wander around looking for satisfaction in a thousand other places, never quite quenching our soul’s thirst because we never go to the Source.

But then, some of us, we go to the well. But we’re always going to there, subconsciously, for someone else. We fill our buckets and maybe even our mouths, and we lug those impossibly heavy water-cans all the way home so we can quench the thirst of someone else. We, like Mama birds, empty even our own mouth’s water into the tiny upturned souls of our children.

And then, the next day, we do it again. Endless trips to the well, lugging buckets of water back for the others.

And we forget to drink.

We forget to swallow. We forget to pause and lift the bucket to our own souls and drink, long and deep, as much as we can, until we can drink no more.

We don’t have to worry that there won’t be enough to bring home.

The well never runs dry. 

But if we never drink, we’ll die. Spiritually we cannot keep only fetching water for other souls.

We must stop … repent …

and drink.

Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters. (Is. 55:1)

{Thank you for reading.}

I’m sorry. Again. I feel like this Spring has been a string of apologies for once again neglecting this poor blog space. We’re coming up on 9 years of consistently writing in this space, and it’s never been this hit-and-miss. *sigh* That isn’t to say I’ve been slacking. I wish faithful housecleaning could translate into a blog post, because for the first time in my life I’m following a cleaning schedule and sticking with it! For 6 weeks people! My house is finally consistently clean and I’m not overwhelmed and I don’t have to scamper to prepare for company. And we finally have a chore system that works for the kids, and can now manage to get through schoolwork (mostly) without tears.

Can we just celebrate the little victories??? 

Plus, let’s see… we bought a house, sold ours, made a massive 2-household move, crammed in a bunch of speaking engagements, then … WROTE A BOOK …  then stayed with my parents for 10 days because our house wasn’t ready, then got horribly sick, then left the country for a week, then came home (still sick) and have been unpacking, then spent the last month doing the editing of the book and writing a small group Bible study curriculum to accompany it (Yay! So excited for that, by the way.) Of course let’s not forget helping plan a women’s retreat for our church, leading women’s Bible study.

Oh, and homeschooling our kids. And, like, parenting them.

And making meals.

And being married.

Somewhere in there I voraciously read three fabulous books and batted around some ideas in my already-too-full brain.

There are friends in there and meetings too and I’m not sharing this to make excuses or prove my worth or compare my life with yours, I’m sharing this to make an important contrast with a to-do list I discovered recently, and to use myself as Exhibit A to show what Insanity looks like.

My grandma passed away when I was 9. Now, that seems really young, but I have so many memories of her that it feels like she was a major part of my life. And she is. She was an incredible woman of faith and prayer. Sometime I’ll share more, but I’ve always strongly identified with her, and felt somehow I was to carry on her life of faith and prayer. All that to say, her words, notes, and Bible are precious to  me.

So when I found her to-do list, you better believe I was eager to read. What were her days like? How did she cultivate such a life of faith and prayer?

Simple. Her lists were short. 

Of course this list was from 1977, when her children were all grown. She had three grandkids at this time and my brother would be born two weeks later. But still, the simplicity of it strikes me. Like, she actually wrote “Get lunch” and “Get dinner” on her to-do list??? She listed “unload dishwasher” and “straighten house”? I do all of those things at once while eating lunch and visiting with company at the same time.  She practiced calligraphy?? There ain’t nobody got time for that! (I did notice that that item didn’t get checked off. Apparently she didn’t have time for it either!)

But it’s also impossible to miss this: Read Bible & pray was item #1 on every single day. I also noticed she prioritized “helping Howard” (her husband) and that “Go to Bible study” is listed TWICE on this day. Ha! Even at 50-years-old she was still double-dipping in the Bible study department. Way to go, Grandma!

See, there are plenty of voices out there telling us to do less. Nothing radical about that. But it’s difficult to do less and do what really matters. We’re told to follow our hearts and do what feels good and make time for what YOU want. But this doesn’t reflect that. She spent time with the Savior. She intentionally helped her husband. She made time for gathering with the saints for the studying of God’s Word.

No wonder her faith and prayer life are inspiring me nearly 40 years later. 

I keep Grandma’s to-do list on my window-sill, behind my kitchen sink, part of my sacred space that holds my favorite things. It gives me perspective when Insanity seems normal. It reminds me that it’s okay to have a short list. Maybe even best to have a short list, when it means making time for what really matters. 

Happy weekend! Thanks for reading. 

The same strategy three times in a row? There was no missing this. 

Isn’t God gracious? When He needs to get through to us, He makes it clear. I was feeling discouraged. Apathetic. Lethargic. Frustrated by what I saw around me, but feeling helpless to effect change. I didn’t feel like getting up early and praying. Did it do any good anyway?

For me, the “Aha!” moments almost always come in the context of ordinary, daily, mundane faithfulness. The daily prayers. The Bible reading. The ordinary obedience. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some spiritual highs, some kick-your-teeth-in conferences and mountaintop moments, but more often than not my Father reveals Himself to me in the mundane.

My daily Bible reading was in 2 Chronicles. The kings at this time were a mixed bag. Not awesome, not quite awful. They were guys like Abijah, Asa, and Jehoshaphat. Not necessarily heroes of the faith, but not known for wickedness either. 

Kinda like me. I can identify with guys like this.

First, I find Abijah. Ordinary dude reigning in Judah. But the terrible king Jeroboam comes after him, sets an ambush, and there’s an army against them from behind and before, and Abijah is basically sunk. There’s no way out. He’s far outnumbered.

But then they made a brilliant battle move. They cried out. 

“And they cried out to the LORD, and the priests blew the trumpets. Then the men of Judah raised the battle shout, and when the men of Judah shout, God defeated Jeroboam … God gave them into their hand.” (2 Chron. 13:14-16)

In their weakness, in the overwhelm, in the outnumbered hopeless situation, they cried out to God.

Next up is Asa. Again, a decent king. Then Zerah the Ethiopian came against them with a million men. Yikes! A million men coming after you. They were hopelessly outnumbered, but in the hopelessness Asa must have remembered the wise battle strategy of his father Abijah and …

And Asa cried to the LORD his God, “O LORD, there is none like you to help, between the mighty and the weak. Help us, O LORD our God, for we rely on you, and in your name we have come out against this multitude. O Lord, you are our God; let not man prevail against you.” So the LORD defeated the Ethiopians before Asa. (2 Chron. 14:11-12)

Seems to be a pattern.

Sadly, later in Asa’s life, another army comes against them, but instead of crying out to God Asa decides to use his own resources. He takes the silver and gold from from the house of the LORD and used it to get help from the King of Syria. It works, humanly speaking, but God is grieved, saying,

“Because you relied on the king of Syria, and did not rely on the LORD your God, the army of the king of Syria has escaped you. Were not the Ethiopians and Libyans a huge army with very many chariots and horsemen? Yet because you relied on the LORD, he gave them into your hand. For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him.” (2 Chron. 16:7-9)

We often hear that last verse quoted, but it’s interesting that the context (what defines a heart that is blameless) is those who rely on the LORD.

Blamelessness and helplessness go hand in hand.

The mightiest warriors are the loudest criers.

The best battle strategy is to cry out and rely on the LORD. 

Later, Asa’s son Jehoshaphat does the same thing. He makes a number of stupid decisions in chapter 18, but when sure disaster strikes and they are facing the Moabites and Ammonites, when there is really no hope for their victory, he goes for the tried and true battle strategy of his grandfather Abijah and father Asa:

“Then Jehoshaphat was afraid and set his face to seek the LORD and proclaimed a fast throughout all Judah.” (2 Chron 20:3).

I won’t quote it all but this is actually one of my favorite chapters in the whole Bible. You can read the whole crazy story here.  In an unlikely strategy, the worshippers go first into battle, and God destroys their enemies.

YAHWEH for the win!

Where are you overwhelmed? Prayer is the ultimate expression of humble dependence. Prayerlessness is the ultimate expression of proud self-reliance.

Let’s employ the best battle strategy. 

Let’s cry out and rely on the LORD our God. 

Onward! Thanks for reading.

I have a friend who had something horrible happen to her last year:

In the middle of the night, while she was peacefully sound asleep, a man broke into her house, busting down her door, stole into her room, dragged her out of her bed and into a vehicle and drove off.

Isn’t that awful? Trespassing! How horrible. How rude.

How loving.

How heroic.

How Christlike.

See, there’s one detail that change things dramatically.

Her house was on fire.

She was indeed peacefully sound asleep, completely oblivious. She was incoherent from smoke-inhalation and no idea that flames were engulfing her, floors were collapsing, things were exploding, and that she was moments away from death and she had no idea.

But there was this man. A hero. A firefighter who responded to the call and didn’t consider his own life dear to him but risked his own safety and well-being in order to bust down the door, plunge into the blinding smoke and flames, and rescue an unconscious woman from her bed. He dragged her out, put her in an ambulance, and away she went. She was in a coma for a long time. They didn’t know if she’d make it. By the grace of God, she survived. She’s a mama, about my age. Every day is a gift for her now, because someone recognized the danger, valued her life, and did the loving thing.

That detail about the fire changes everything, yes?

What is the “loving thing to do” depends heavily on the absence or presence of danger.

As my husband always says, the key to humble, Christlike rebuke or confrontation is helping people understand,

“You’re not in trouble, you’re in danger.”

Sin leads to death. Always. Destruction. Regret. Loss.

It is never loving to leave someone alone to die in a burning house. 

So of course, the question is, How do we define danger? Who gets to decide when that person’s in danger or not? Who determines the degree of danger? A house-fire is rather obvious, but we certainly shouldn’t break into someone’s house and drag them into the street just because they’re smoking a cigarette in bed.  Right? One could argue that that’s dangerous as well. Who decides?

Only the One who created us. Only the one who sees the end from the beginning. Only the one who knows the number of hairs on our heads, grains of sand on the shore, the ones who knit us together in our mother’s womb, who is alone wise. The only One who defines love.

We just finished studying 1 Corinthians as a church, and we ladies are now studying 2 Corinthians. It’s powerful to study them back-to-back, really helping us understand the progression of the story. In 1 Corinthians 5, there were some people who were in danger. Big danger. And all the people around them didn’t go into the burning building to rescue them. They didn’t think that was loving. It seemed rude. Judgmental. So they just stood around outside “accepting” the people’s decisions. In fact, they boasted about their non-judgmental attitudes! But Paul is livid. Why?

Because they weren’t rescuing people from danger. Sure, the steps he suggests taking are extreme. Basically like busting down the door on someone’s house and dragging them out of their beds. Crazy stuff. But later, in 2 Corinthians 7:8-13, we hear the beautiful result, that even though it was ugly at first, every though it was hard, even though there was grieving and hurt and anger and difficulty, that godly grieving brought repentance (turning from sin) which brought …

LIFE.

Rescued from death.

There was anguish. But some precious souls were saved from the fire because someone was willing to look rude and bust down the door of their life and drag them away from danger.

The truth is, we were all asleep in the burning house (Rom 3:23) but Christ made a way of escape by His blood, and now calls us to be His ambassadors (2 Corinthians 5:18-21), his firemen. Sure, at times our jobs are mundane, we’re cleaning our gear or washing the truck. But other times we’re called on to do something seemingly rude, something scary that might be misinterpreted, something that makes us scared out of our mind, because the presence of danger defines love. 

My friend is eternally grateful that a rude guy busted down her door and dragged her out of her house.

Thanks for reading. 

I felt that familiar flip-flop feeling, that quick catch in my breath. Oh good grief, Kari. Really?! Yes, really. It would seem so innocuous, this thing, but it tripped up some insecurity switch and as I slipped into bed, in the safety of the darkness the tears slid down my face, onto the pillow. Why, Lord?! Why still? Why do old wounds still produce this ridiculous response? Why am I so emotionally unstable?!

Sorry for TMI, but of course our lovely friends Hormones had something to do with it. Their other friend, Fasting, seems to has the same effect. When Hormones and Fasting are both visiting my house? Whoa Nelly. Things can spiral down rather suddenly.

But. I embrace both because they weaken our defenses, our self-protective thick-skin, and make us painfully vulnerable. They bring things to the surface, and that’s the whole point. When we fast, or experience any circumstance where we’re weakened, the things that surface were already in there, we just didn’t know it.

When tears surface, there’s always something under the surface.

Years ago a wise friend recommended a simple 3-day approach toward responding to painful remarks. I’ll call it the “Resurrection Response” to criticism or hurts. When we receive the painful word or remark or situation, we respond in step with Jesus’ death and resurrection.

1. Die.

Don’t respond. Don’t defend yourself. Allow the pain of the remark to actually sink in and hurt. Don’t brush it off, ignore it, or pretend it didn’t matter. If necessary, grieve. Even if you feel petty or silly, honestly acknowledge the hurt before God (NOT another person at this point).  Even if you are wrongly accused or misjudged, reflect on how Jesus stayed quiet and bore the shame and pain of the cross.

2. Rest.

The next day, do nothing. Just rest. Wait. Again, don’t respond. Don’t take action. Allow a full day to just give the Lord space to work in your heart, show you your own areas of brokenness of weakness. Or just rest in His presence and let Him minister His love to you.

3. Rise.

Take action. This might mean responding (if God leads), or it might mean just rising from the “grave” of pain and hurt and walking forward in the newness and life and power and freedom that God worked through the painful process. His Holy Spirit will show us what it means to Rise, but we take action to move forward in overcoming sin, selfishness, insecurity, pettiness. We forgive. Always. We refuse revenge or pride, and we rise out of the hurt and move forward in love and generosity.

Friends, this simple 3-day method has OFTEN kept me from saying or doing really stupid things. It’s protected me from lashing back, reacting, or making rash decisions out of hurt. I pray this simple practice can be helpful for you too. Thank You, Jesus, for showing us the way to die, to rest, to rise. We pray your resurrection power will give us the strength to love others lavishly. Thank You for your grace.

Thanks for reading.

I sense this urgency now more than ever. Not a panicky urgency, just a sense that time is short, that these are critical times, that “as in the days of Noah” there will be many who are oblivious to the times and be caught off guard by His coming.

No, I’m not talking about stock-piling supplies, that sort of thing. I mean that Jesus urges His followers often that in the end, as the time draws near, the love of many will grow cold. There will be widespread deception, even among believers. The Scriptures will be twisted to say whatever pleases the masses.

For me personally, PRAYER has been megaphone-loud message I keep hearing and receiving from the Scriptures, from the Spirit.

Now is the time to pray. For our loved ones, for our country, for ourselves. Now is the time to be discerning. Please, for the love of Jesus Christ and for the sake of the world, we must be discerning people.

How? By immersing ourselves in the truth of the Scriptures, the whole scriptures, by spending more time in the presence of God in prayer than in the presence of social media. By fighting fiercely not against people, but against the enemy of our souls, the one who comes only to steal, kill, and destroy, the father of lies, the deceiver of the brethren, the roaring lion. Only as we are discerning can we truly love people but hate evil, only as the full-gospel guides our view can we purely pursue God’s glory and help rescue people from the burning building of sin, of deception, of bondage.

The Good News is good news! It is GOOD! It is that even though we are all lost in our trespasses, we don’t have to be! We don’t have to live in slavery to our sin, to our fleshly passions, to our selfishness. The gospel sets us FREE! 

There is a great opportunity right now to do the Armor of God study by Priscilla Shirer, online over the summer. They are offering her videos (slightly shortened) for FREE, so the only cost is the book. What a great way to suit up! To put on the truth of God’s Word and take up the sword and be prepared to walk in boldness and discernment.

Here is the information: http://blog.lifeway.com/womenallaccess/2016/04/22/the-armor-of-god-online-bible-study-sign-up/?emid=women-AOGOBS-announcement-20160428

I guess this is less of a post and more of a plea: Let’s suit up, friends. Let’s seek the Lord in prayer. Let’s get in the Word of God and let His truth guide our hearts and lives. Let’s not waste our lives. Let’s give generously, love lavishly, and surrender fully. I’m with you on this journey, in this battle. Let’s suit up!

Thank you for reading.