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.