Living Brave and Courageous
A life on adventure with Jesus
UPS Bob
It was March 2020. We were stuck in our homes. Some of us bored. Some of us working from home. Churches and business were closed. Everyone was learning to be homeschoolers. There was little contact with the outside world.
I won’t get political because it doesn’t really matter what “side” you’re on. But I think we can all agree on one point: Covid changed how we connected in community. Fear. Isolation. Sadness. Depression. Boredom. Anxiety. All of these things heightened. Senior citizens dying alone. Churches not knowing what to do with services, if or when they did have them. Health care workers over worked and under paid. Nothing felt normal.
As humans we thrive on connection. Human interaction. Face to face contact. Even the most introverted person still needs some sort of companionship with other people to be healthy.
2020 took all of this away from us.
At least for a time, we were all quarantined and compartmentalized and corralled. And for those of us extroverts who weren’t considered “essential workers”, it seemed like an eternity of house arrest.
If you don’t already know this about me, I’m extremely extroverted. I thrive on human interaction. I talk to everyone- even strangers. As funny as it may seem, it wasn’t always this way. I was painfully shy as a child. Literally so awkward and to myself. Not anymore! But that’s a story for another day.
Thankfully I am from a big family and so there were eight people living under the same roof in March of 2020. To some that’s a crowd in itself! We cooked together, took walks together, we bake and ate lots of yummy carbs, had a “when you’re bored list” to give us ideas to keep busy, and did a lot of FaceTiming and phone calls. But even though we were used to being together as a family (my dad was self employed and we homeschooled already) it was still stifling! Being told you can’t do anything makes you feel even more straight-jacketed than if you chose to stay home.
After a few weeks of being in the same four walls of our house, I was very ready to see me some people. Different people. My prison work had come to all but a complete halt and my boyfriend was 800 miles away. Everything felt strangely stalemated in an epidemic world.
And this is when a small act of kindness by a UPS guy changed my viewpoint completely.
It was March 26, 2020. I know this because I have a video in my phone to prove it.
Our UPS guy at the time we called Bob. We couldn’t pronounce his real name so he told us to call him Bob. We had gotten to know him over the few years he drove our route and he always had a kind word. We knew a few fun things about UPS Bob.
- Bob loved music. All kinds of it. Every time he pulled up he was blaring some new genre of musical talent. One day it was country. The next day it was Christian contemporary. Rock and roll. Hebrew healing tones. I’m not even kidding. This guy had expansive tastes. And he was also a musician. In a band. Sang. The works.
- Bob loved Jesus. He was an ordained minister and loved to talk about Jesus, the Bible and people.
- Bob loved people and was great with names. And I don’t mean cheating because your name was on your package. He actually knew your name apart from your deliveries. When I ran into him in town, he would yell from across the street- “hey, Faith Walker!” And I wasn’t the only one. I regularly heard him address people out in about on a first name basis and with kindness and compassion.
- Bob had energy. He was the most upbeat, energy giving, cheerful UPS driver I have ever met. Always chipper. Always a funny quip or joke. Always a smile or laugh. Always time to chat for a second before rushing off to his next stop.
So when I tell you during Covid we ordered stuff from Amazon just to see Bob, I’m not really exaggerating. Outside of our family, Bob was just about the only person we saw those first few weeks. So we spaced out our deliveries and ran to the door when we heard the friendly beep of the truck. I’m not joking. We really did love seeing him that much…and with such a life giving personality in a bummer time- do you blame us?
Anyway, back to March 26th, 2020.
We heard the familiar truck honk and several of us ran (or walked quickly…so as not to be less than adult about it) to the door. But this day, Bob was extra. He handed us a package but loudly said- “I know it kinda a bummer right now. So I brought somethin to cheer you up!” With this he whipped out his bluetooth speaker and set it on the sidewalk in front of our door. Then he pulled out his phone, clicked a song and let ‘er rip. Harmonica in hand, he took turns blowing out cheerful notes on it and belting out the words. It was first rate entertainment. He commenced to stomping and jigging and all the while the music blaring and him harmonica-playing and singing.
By now we were all crowded at the door. Every. Single. One. Of. Us.
It wasn’t that Bob was singing the most incredible song we’d ever heard (I can’t even remember what song he was playing) it was that he knew our cooped-up, stir-craziness and he wanted to cheer us up. Second song in and not a one of us wasn’t grinning ear to ear.
Random acts of kindness are like that. They are contagiously joyful and make you heart feel fuzzy and warm inside. Bob didn’t do anything earth shattering. He did a small thing in his normal, every day life that left an impression on us. Why did it matter so much? Because he saw us. He saw our need for community and he stepped up to meet it in an ordinary way. It took him five minutes or extra time and not taking himself too seriously so he could dance at our front door and give a little joy. We rode that wave of happiness for days.
I wonder how many times I’ve had the chance to do something similar? Oh- for sure not harmonica playing- but something in my skill set. Something small and ordinary that would make all the difference for someone in my sphere…hoping someone will see their ache for community and show up. Maybe it’s the tiny, ordinary things that feel the most extraordinary in the middle of chaos.
The card you weren’t expecting but said all the things you needed to hear. The hand-picked flowers on a day that isn’t your birthday or a holiday. The phone call or text. The invite to dinner or to the park. The time you were an overwhelmed mama and someone at the grocery store told you “You’re doing a great job and your kids are precious.” Kind words from a stranger.
You can do small things- Helping someone with a disability open a door. Asking a cashier how you can pray for her today. Look for the needs and then meet them. It takes courage to see people and reach out, but it’s worth the ten seconds of awkward.
These are not big things. But they might be a game changer for the person on the receiving end. In some cases, it could be the moment they see Jesus in the flesh. You- being His hands and feet to a hurting world.
Bob did that for us in March of 2020. He shined the light of joy into the darkness of uncertainty. He said with his life: “it’s okay. We have each other.” This is the community and human connection we crave. The kind that says- “you are not alone.”
How can you be like UPS Bob today? Change the world with your kindness.
The Lost Ones
“There’s really only one thing worse than being lost. What’s worse is being lost when no one is trying to find you.” -David Platt
In the years I’ve worked in prisons and jails in various parts of the country, I know this statement rings true. You can see it in the eyes staring back at you. The longing to be seen. To be heard. For someone to be looking for them in their weakest time of wandering.
You can often hear it in the way they thank you for coming to teach or volunteer. One woman in a county jail commented to me, “I spent the first 18 years of my life in church but I had to come to jail to have someone show me how to live it.” She was a lost one…the daughter of a church deacon and not at all unfamiliar to the Bible stories that we can quote in our sleep. But in her lostness…she was WANTING to be found. Tears streaming down her face as she profusely thanked me for coming.
Isn’t this how we all are? Sometimes we don’t even know what it is we want! We just feel the ache inside us. The hollow feeling. The emptiness. And we long in the deepest part of our being that someone would come and rescue us. That someone would come finding us when we are lost. We want to be found.
This is why we look for healing in all the wrong places. We search for purpose and someone to tell us the things we crave to hear. We run far away and we try to analyze our scars and our pain and we hope in the realest way we know that there is meaning in all of it.
I’ve been able to go to lunch (commonly called “chow” in prison) with female inmates on several occasions. I’ve eaten their food and sat at their tables and experienced a little, tiny piece of their world. Every single time multiple ladies have come up and said something like “It’s been nice eating with someone from the outside. Almost makes me feel human again.” Me eating with them wasn’t earth shattering. But it spoke to their need…to be heard and known and loved anyway. To CHOOSE to get into their world when I didn’t have to.
When you’re lost, you want someone to be looking for you. You want someone to love you enough to search diligently UNTIL YOU ARE FOUND. Not give up when it gets hard. But keep looking. Keep pursing.
The greatest Pursuer is Jesus Himself. Ever looking for us. Always wooing us. Forever orchestrating a complex and beautiful tapestry of people in our lives who will whisper His name in our darkest moments. Maybe it’s not even blatantly obvious at the time…but in looking back we can see His masterful handiwork. His fingerprints. His relentless pursuing of us. Loving us when we were lost and wandering and unloveable.
“For I am persuaded that not even death or life, angels or rulers, things present or things to come, hostile powers, height or depth, or any other created thing will have the power to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord!” Romans 8:38-39 HCSB
Jesus is about the lost ones. And He never gives up. Never. I want to reflect His heart of love for the wandering. What about you?
Mother’s Day
In our kitchen hutch we have the plate I made (decorated) for my mom in 3rd grade, for Mother’s Day. I was looking at it today remembering drawing my careful design and coloring it especially for her. My class as a whole was disappointed when there was a problem with the order, and we received the plates weeks after Mother’s Day. Of course, my Mama didn’t care that it was late. From the date we received it, until now, it’s always been in our kitchen.
As I was in elementary school and even middle school, the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?”, was answered with the following response: A missionary, a writer, and a detective. As I grew older, the internal answers changed. I wanted to be a wife and a mama. I could never verbalize it out loud. There are so many things we can control, but meeting someone and loving them and marrying them… out of my hands.
I was married, much later than what most people find to be the “prime” marrying age. But God, in his wonderful ways blessed me, albeit much later than I would have chosen. And then I was blessed with babies. Mother’s Day became a different day. What was a day of sadness, became a day of hope realized.
But for many, it’s still a hard day. Many have lost their mamas. Others simply don’t have a good relationship with them. Some have a broken relationship with their children. And then for many it’s because their own desires to be a mama haven’t been realized.
I love my life. I love my husband, my boys, my family. All of it. I live in a wonderful home (sometimes called “Stephanie’s House of Happiness” and other times, it’s just flat-out crazy train). That being said, I am very cognoscente that many find Mother’s Day heavy.
For all of you, whether you are in one of the scenarios listed above, or a mama driving her own crazy train (and loving it, or maybe you feel like you are being dragged by the train!), I’m writing you a message.
I don’t know why God has planned for you. I don’t know if all the desires of your heart have been met yet. But I do know that if you keep holding on to Jesus, He will meet you. He will comfort your broken heart. He has a plan and a purpose, just for you! He sees you.
For those with a broken heart, He sees you.
For those with broken relationships, He sees you.
For those who are weary and hopeless and out of patience, He sees you.
I determined a while ago that Mother’s Day isn’t only for those who have had children of their own. It’s for all women. It’s a day to celebrate the village of women in your lives. Whether it be aunts and grandmas, or the best friends you have. It’s to celebrate those who pour into your babies’ lives. And, if you are one of those women without your own babes, you are to be celebrated. I have a village of wonderful women, both married and not. Because of them, my boys know additional love.
So to all of you amazing women out there, you help the world go around. You run households. You are friends. You are sisters. You are aunts. You are extraordinary.
And to the three moms I have been given, (my Mama, My Mema Betty, and My Nana Anne), Happy Mother’s Day. I couldn’t ask for better, and my boys are blessed to have you in their lives. Love you always.
And love to all of you,
Stephanie
Dear Single Sister
“Singleness is a beautiful time of deepening your relationship with Jesus.” Doesn’t everyone say that to you? I know. I’ve been there. I’m saying it from a perspective of a woman who was happily single and over 30. I didn’t date until I was 31. I had found “the One Who my soul loves” in Jesus and was content to stay there for the rest of my life, if needed. In fact, when the possibility of marriage came my way, I was hesitant!
Singleness can be viewed as a disease or something to just “survive” when I whole-heartedly believe God wants us to THRIVE in our single years. They can be so full and fruitful and wonderful! And most of us cheat ourselves because we spend our single years wishing for, fretting after, and worrying about our future marriage. I know girls who can’t have healthy relationships with the opposite gender because they are viewing every man as a potential mate. No guy wants to be friends with that kind of pressure.
Often I get text messages, emails and phone calls from gals who are curious about my life as a single woman. How did I do it? What helped me navigate that particular season in my life? There are a thousand “little” things that helped my journey along the way. People who spoke into my life in beautiful ways that changed me forever. Hardships which shaped my character and drew me to Jesus. But after repeated requests for help as single women…I finally decided to put together some of my favorite resources that strengthened my walk with the Lord during my season of singleness. I have also put down some Spiritual Disciplines that molded my life during that period.
These lists are by no means exhaustive, but they are important resources that shaped me more than I probably even realize. I hope these ideas will encourage you as you walk through these beautiful years of singled-focus on Jesus.
Blessings on your journey,
Faith Hayes
1: Books you NEED to read. (note: these are not all about singleness, but to encourage your relationship with Christ in any season.)
Let’s All Be Brave, by Annie F. Downs
Kisses from Katie, by Katie Davis Majors
Anything, by Jennie Allen
Fervant, by Pricilla Shirer
Wherever the River Runs, by Kelly Minter
Did I Kiss Marriage Goodbye? by Carolyn McCulley
Fine China is for Single Women too, by Lydia Brownback
Adorned, by Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth
Thrive, by Lina AbuJara
Daring to Hope, by Katie Davis Majors
Love Does, Everybody Always, Dream Big and Undistracted by Bob Goff
The Right Kind of Strong, by Mary Kassian
You can Trust God to Write your Story, by Robert and Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth
Fierce Women, by Kimberly Wagner
You and Me Forever, by Francis and Lisa Chan
Outdated, by John “JP” Pokluda
Singled Out for Him, by Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth
Get Lost, by Dannah Gresh
Giddy Up, Eunice by Sophie Hudson
Whisper by Mark Batterson
Not forsaken by Louie Giglio
Not a fan by Kyle Idleman
Befriend by Scott Sauls
In a pit with a lion on a snowy day by Mark Batterson
Something needs to change by David Platt
2: Videos, websites and articles that really encouraged me…
“Don’t Waste Your Singleness” article by Tyler Velin
“Love Takes Action” you tube video by Bob Goff
“A Disney Trip and 3 Reasons I’m Choosing Aunthood” article by Kelly Minter
Revive Our Hearts ministry website
Living Brave and Courageous website, search “Singleness” for articles
3: Spiritual Disciplines…
DO focus on being a Godly woman. Wanna practice being a mom? Take care of other people’s kids. Wanna be a good wife? Learn to lose agreements graciously with your brothers and to do the things they like to do. Instead of focusing on “marriage skills”, focus on Jesus. Focus on being a woman after His heart. All those skills will easily transfer to being a godly wife and mom.
DO practice FORGIVENESS. Admit when you are wrong. Humility is a beautiful thing at any stage of life, both single and married.
DO pour into your family relationships. Your parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.
DO be an energy giver. Especially at your church. Don’t suck the life out of them…or you can guarantee pity! Instead, be a life giver! Be encouraging! Use the power of your kind words to lift up those around you!
DO NOT view every guy as a potential mate. If you find yourself putting your first name with his last or wondering what kind of husband he would make…you’re hopelessly over the line. Instead, DO treat all Christian guys as brothers. Ask yourself, would I do this or say this to my real brother? You wouldn’t flirt with your brother so don’t with Christian guys.
DO learn to lean into Jesus more than anything or anyone. You’ll need that in marriage.
DO invest in other people’s children. Adopt yourself some nieces and nephews. Then show up for them. Go to their baseball games, cheer for them at their recitals, and love them when they have difficult moments.
DO guard other people’s marriages. Be faithful to yours. (Proverbs 31:11-12) Be wise in protecting the marriages of other people. This could be things like babysitting their kids so they can go on a date night or even simpler disciplines like not texting a married man unless on a thread with his wife. This isn’t because you are distrusting…it’s because sin will take foothold in the smallest ways and you want to protect others’ marriages and yourself!
DO take good notes of marriages and parenting around you. What good things would you like to follow if God leads you to marry and have children? What things do you NOT want to repeat that you see in others?
DO invest time and money into your relationship with Jesus. Conferences, Bible studies, dates each week with Jesus, etc. Invest in your love life with the Lord. Just as you would make time for a guy you were dating, make that special time with Jesus. Invest financially in your relationship with Him. Sacrifice for Him because you LOVE Him!
DON’T ignore all the things- travel, read, babysit, go on mission trips, take retreats with the Lord, have sleepovers with your nieces and nephews, write the book, take music lessons, learn to paint, get the degree, volunteer at the neonatal unit, adopt a grandparent at your local nursing home…do all the things. One day, you’ll have less time…I promise.
DO treat your singleness as a ticking clock that could unknowly stop any minute. Let it motivate you to leave it all on the field. Start living with an urgency that your life may forever change any day and afford you less time.
DO have mentors. Being mentored regularly by multiple people is one of the most life-changing spiritual disciplines. I would not be anywhere near where I am today without the voices of these men and women of God speaking into me…in the good times and in the tough moments. As a word of caution- as a woman, you need older women speaking into you. Your peers don’t count. A man alone isn’t a good idea. And your older-than-you boyfriend doesn’t count either. (check out Titus 2:3-5 if you think I’m wrong). God has wired us as women to need other women. I also had an older (they are close to my grandparents’ ages) married couple that mentored me for years and still speak into my life when needed!
DO NOT spend too much time with people who rehearse negativity and hopelessness to you. This is hard if it’s a parent…but we can choose our friends wisely. Just be guarded with your time when with people who pity you for your singleness, try to constantly try to set you up on blind dates and act like your current season is horrible, makes you broken or means you’re diseased. The more you hear their verbiage, the more you will start to believe it and your attitude towards singleness will shift to woe-as-me.
DO look for opportunities to serve Jesus in ways you may not be able to as a married woman. You will never have the chances you have today as a single lady.
DO learn to be brave and do things outside your box. Do the things that scare you. Take holy risks. Courageous living looks good on you!
These are things I learned and resources I have been blessed by. They helped me focus on Jesus and not my marital status…or lack thereof. These disciplines kept me so about the business of living Jesus and serving Him that I didn’t have time to feel bad about my singleness or feel like I was missing out on something! I hope these are encouraging to you AND that you add some things to the list yourself!
What are some other helpful things you found…resources, scriptures or spiritual disciplines? Comment below! I’d love to hear and keep this conversation going!
“Not today Satan”
Who are you?
There are moments in life that can slap the life out of you. Or make you wonder about your identity. It’s in those spaces when God’s creation forgets that each of us are image-bearers and can pull us down internally. The energy is zapped out of our souls. The wind out of our sails.
It’s in such moments that I have to always return to the basics. WHO AM I?
More importantly: WHOSE am I? That’s the real question.
My identity is intrinsically wrapped up in the Person of Jesus Christ. The God of the universe breathed me into existence. He spoke my name before anyone else did. He made me to reflect His face. An image-bearer of the Almighty God.
Our words can cut and dice each other in pitiful ways. Serious ways. We can chop our brothers and sisters down to the knees by what we say.
I’m not talking about constructive correction. I have been the blessed recipient many times of Godly behavior and/or thought modification. Parents and wise mentors have noticed sin patterns in my life and wasted no time in pointing them out to me in love. The spirit of the delivery was such that I knew…it was for my good and God’s glory. Today, I am better for those moments…raw and hard as they have been. They have shaped me to be more like Jesus. I don’t think we ever outgrow the need for Godly instruction and correction.
Yet somehow, in our deliverance of our words…we are quick to speak and don’t think it through first. I’ve been guilty of this. Spewing words before I stop and pray through them. Giving unsolicited advice often amounts to nothing more than negative pressure.
Nothing prepares you for being a life-giver through words like being on the receiving end of life-TAKING words. It’s a new perspective on what it feels like.
To feel like someone took the air out of your lungs. The sting of false accusations fresh in your mind. The play over in your brain of what the person said or how they said it. The wondering in your heart if you did the right thing.
Perhaps one of the worst types of negative words are what my dad uses to tell us are “cutting” words. The edge of these words said by another person about you may be true but they cut at your character. Making fun of your personality or the way you do things. Pointing out your failures in front of those you love or respect. Instead of overlooking your less than pleasant attributes, shining a spot light on them so everyone in the room can’t help but notice. These are the moments that make us shrivel up inside. Want to hide under the rug. Or start self loathing. and at the core of these words? The abasement of others so that you can be bigger, better or more powerful in that moment. It’s a strategy straight from the devil himself.
Or there are times when well-meaning intentions turn out completely different than we expected. We are suddenly knocked off our feet and find ourselves dazed by the circumstances. Anger. Frustration. Sadness. Grief. Wanting to defend ourselves.
I remember one time in particular, several years ago, when this kind of moment happened to me. I remember standing up and breathing quietly for a few minutes. The false accusations and blame that poured out of the mouth of someone I loved toward me was enough to leave me shell shocked to say the least. I felt ill prepared. The things that were said weren’t even truth. Then I felt the warrior woman rising up in me. I’m not saying the fighting against this person type of attitude, I mean the kind that knows who the real enemy is. His slithery lies were recognizable from previous battles. I actually heard myself whisper out loud:
“Not today, Satan.”
I was on a prison ministry trip so I had a heightened awareness that the enemy was on the war path.
But even in the fighting…this isn’t about me. It’s about HIM. Jesus. Less of me. More of Him.
And yet…in these moments of fatal blows to our identity, our reputation or our leadership…we wonder if there’s another route to have fellowship with Jesus. Is there another way to get His power instead of these hardships and trials? A different path to maturity that doesn’t involve harsh words, navigating tough relationships or loving the unloveable?
I think not.
“My goal is to know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death,”
Philippians 3:10 HCSB
Less of me, more of Him. Simple but not easy.
Contentment
“But godliness with contentment is a great gain.”
1 Timothy 6:6 HCSB
I’ve realized that it’s never too early to teach and model contentment to young children. Let’s face it- contentment is an important life skill that fewer and fewer people possess these days. And you’re better off having it than not. You will go farther if you’re content.
Our world programs us to be discontent with our lives…every commercial points to the things you need to make your life better and social media preys upon our feelings of not having enough. We become jealous of what others have and how our life doesn’t measure up. We suddenly feel our house isn’t big enough, isn’t updated enough, isn’t pretty enough. We feel our motherhood isn’t crunchy enough our our husband isn’t romantic enough. Singles are disillusioned with their unmarriedness and the marrieds are discouraged with their marriedness. And all the while each of us has been given everything we NEED to live a fruitful and abundant life.
Watching Noah (and Joy now too!) has taught me a lot about contentment. Since he was born, he has traveled over 38,000 miles, flown 16 times and visited 15 states. In each place he has learned to recalibrate his brain to new surroundings, explore new territories and be happy with the few things we travel with. He doesn’t need a lot…just a few steady things to anchor him. Namely: his daddy, mommy and pack-in-play to sleep in. The rest is imaginative and adventurous! He loves to go places and meet new people. His favorite toys used to be empty body armor bottles…now we have graduated to matchbox cars. “I take TWO?” he says everywhere we go. One for each hand.
It’s made me realize that we are created to be the same way- to be content with very few things- as long as we are near the Heavenly Father. And when we find ourselves discontent, we can bet money on the fact we have distanced ourselves from Him. Because HE IS ENOUGH. He will be everything you need. Always.
Authentic friendship
The need for authentic friendship is wired into us. There are days when life can feel crushing and overwhelming. Like you’re the only person on the planet, living on an island and wishing there was help somewhere. I’ve had days like this. More than once. And authentic friendship is a beautiful gift during such times.
One time stands out in my mind more than others. I had just had my son and all the physical nightmares that came after his birth. It was a tough few months of pain, surgeries and being laid up on the couch or in bed. For a goer and doer like me, this felt like the end of the world. Added to that is my closest people (other than my husband) were far away and not able to come by and visit me. I had my sister for the first nine weeks but when she went home, this incredible sadness and loneliness came over me. I couldn’t go anywhere yet, my husband had to work and I was struggling to manage pain, a house and a newborn.
The biggest hurdle for me though was my loneliness. I’m a people-person. An extrovert. Sitting on the couch all alone was hard. Sad. Overwhelming.
A few times local friends would call or text and ask what they could do to help. So I would tell them- “you can come and visit me. I need someone to talk to.” Maybe that is an awkward request for some because no one followed through with the assignment. Brining a meal or sweeping your floor is a more appealing task, I guess. So there I sat. I was so lonely, in lots of pain and incredibly sad.
Then one day, a lady I barely knew from church called and told me she had the whole afternoon and was willing to come and do my laundry, dishes or whatever I needed done. I was grateful for her kindness, but my sister had left me a clean house and freezer full of crockpot meals and my husband was doing the laundry. What I really needed was a friend. Just someone to be with me.
So I told her that.
“What I really need is for you to just come and sit and talk with me.”
I didn’t know all the words to say how I felt. I just wanted someone to be in the same room with me and not be afraid of my current mess. The pain and awkwardness of my physical trauma and the fact that I was three months postpartum and still on the couch. I needed a friend to sit WITH ME in the mess.
Isn’t that what Jesus did for us? His very name foretold by the prophets: Emmanuel means GOD WITH US. He left the comfort of His home to be a part of our messy world. Because He LOVED us.
Too often we feel compelled to fix people. To make all the wrongs right…or at least in our minds that’s what we want to do. It seems if we can’t do just that then we are scared of what to do. If they can’t be fixed then we tend to run away. What if we say the wrong thing? I won’t know what to do or where to look or if I should go over and visit at all.
So we don’t go. We don’t say anything. We leave our hurting friends in their messes all alone. And this wound adds to their current misery. To be hurting is one thing. To be in pain AND alone, is a deeper and very powerful emotion that is much harder to face.
“What I really need is you to visit me.”
So on that chilly spring morning in 2022, my church lady friend didn’t shy away from my pain. She stepped into it. She texted: “I’ll be there at 11:30am with lunch! Text me your order from Tropical Smoothie!”
And she came.
She sat there on my couch and rocked my baby while I talked around the world. She listened. She let me eat and she talked. We laughed. I cried. I heard parts of her life story. She heard parts of mine. She asked questions about my current messy situation. She listened and told me what I needed to hear most- that I wasn’t crazy and this was hard stuff and I would make it. She gave me what I needed most: her presence.
I’m more than three years past that day in March of 2022, but I’ll tell you this, every time I tell this story, I still tear up. Because my friend gave me what my heart needed that day- authentic friendship. She wasn’t afraid of my messiness. My tears. My crazy hair and three-day old clothes. My physical pain. She was willing to do the awkward and BE WITH ME in it all.
I doubt she thinks she did anything heroic. But to me, it gave me hope. Hope in the middle of my mess.
I’ll also tell you this…I knew when my friend left that day that we would be long time friends. Because she is authentic. She is real. She isn’t afraid of my crazy. And that was just the beginning.
She always seems to be in the right place at the right time for me. Like in my bathroom when I was delivering my baby girl faster than anyone could get there. Now THAT is a different level of mess and she was there again. But that’s a story for another day….
The Grand Redo
Ever wanted the chance to redo something? Redo a day you messed up? Redo a moment you said something you regret? To redo an experience that kinda flopped a bit? Regret is a powerful feeling.
One time I actually got a redo.
It wasn’t completely a redone event, but it felt remarkably like the chance to right a wrong I had done.
The wrong was when I was 16 years old. I was living in Arkansas with my family and was a part-time church pianist. I could sit down and sight-read music from the hymn book but typically the music director gave me the songs the night before Sunday church so I could run through them. This made me feel more comfortable since I already felt “outside my box”. It was a good experience for me to push myself and use my talent for God’s glory.
During this same time frame, my family visited a small church where a friend was the preacher. They didn’t have any musicians. Not. One. Single. Pianist. In. The. Whole. Congregation. And there I sat. The pastor friend knew I played the piano. From the pulpit he asked me if I’d be willing to come up and play for church. He assured me it didn’t have to be perfect but they would just love to have music again.
I froze.
To say that I struggled with fear at that point in life would be a major understatement. My fear of man (people), fear of rejection and fear of failure all collided in that one moment and I freaked. I shook my head no. “Are you sure? You can tell us if you don’t know the song…” he was everything but pleading. I said no again.
I remember sitting there after that and singing acapella with the congregation, all the while a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt justified to say no because he hadn’t given me any warning. I made a dozen excuses in my head but my heart knew…I should have said yes. It was selfish to hide my talent in the sand when these precious people just needed to hear music again.
I still regret that my fear of not being perfect held me back from being a blessing to others that day.
It didn’t take me long to realize my mistake. Mostly against the God who gave me a gift and then I wouldn’t use it to praise Him. I vowed that if ever given the chance again, I would say yes, no matter how afraid I was.
It would be fourteen years before I got my redo.
I was thirty years old and on a prison ministry trip to Alaska. A small part of our team traveled to several places in Alaska to do prison work and also ministered in a couple churches.
One small church was in Seward, Alaska and had a wonderful group of Jesus-loving people. On our way in, I met the pastor and we talked about random things. Somehow he asked if any of us played the piano. One of my co-workers also happened to be a former piano student of mine so she volunteered me immediately. I played it off and we all pointed fingers for a few minutes about who could really play. Ya know how you do…all bragging on each other and hoping your friend gets picked to do whatever the thing is.
It wasn’t long before I saw why he asked. The pastor was doing everything. He was the preacher, the song leader and the only musician. He did a good job…but he was a one-man leadership team. Bless him! He had a heart as big as Texas and loved these people well.
As he finished preaching he gave an altar call and in all seriousness he said, “now I’m gonna and Sister Faith to come up and play some quiet music while we open up the altar.”
Did he really just say that? My two friends were smiling and nudging me in the seat…with their heads bowed of course.
That little church scene from fourteen years before flashed in my memory. This was my redo. It didn’t matter what I sounded like or if I was prepared, this man was asking for me to come and use the gift I’d been given for Jesus.
I stood up and walked quietly to the front.
Well- let’s see what this hymn book has in it…y’all know every denomination has their own and the songs are slightly different in each version. I fumbled through a few pages and then started playing some hymn I found. Eventually I felt myself relax and started playing from memory.
As I sat there and played, a peace washed over me. The kind that you have when you know you have pleased the heart of the Father and He is smiling. An intense gratefulness flooded my heart and worship rose up in me. Now I was playing the piano AND crying.
Jesus is so compassionate. So kind. So loving to allow us sometimes to redo the things we regret. Opportunities to step up when we have previously stepped out in fear. They are reminders to me that I want to consistently say YES to Jesus, despite the uncomfortable tasks at time. Because 20 seconds of insane courage is always better than years of regret.
I’m thankful for grand redos in life but insane courage is where I want to set up camp. What about you?
The Blank Check of Motherhood
Motherhood isn’t what most people say it is.
It’s one of the best choices I ever made…but it isn’t free or always fun or even a trophy. It’s sacrifice and hard work and a kind of love that can’t be explained.
I knew that motherhood would include sacrifice. As the oldest of my siblings, I had watched my mom throw up every pregnancy and how her body changed and her sleep was interrupted. I watched her give her time and energy. I watched her sacrifice her desires at times. She said NO to things like coffee dates with friends and going to all the family weddings because sometimes there wasn’t a babysitter and my Dad was self-employed so he had to work. She did a lot of things that required her to put our needs above her own…knowing that motherhood meant giving up things up for a time.
Her youngest now is 17. So now she can do coffee dates with friends again and if she and Dad want to get away for a weekend, they can do that. Everyone is self-feeding, self-dressing and self-entertaining now. But it took a bunch of years to get there. About thirty years of saying NO to her schedule and YES to raising a bunch of noisy, messy, and busy humans.
Now I see her sacrificing for motherhood in a different way. She has teenagers and twenty-somethings and four in their thirties. She also has three bonus daughters (soon to be four!), a bonus son and thirteen little humans who call her “Muh”, the name given to her by the first grandchild. So now she has even more people to pray for, sacrifice for and love.
But for all the beautiful things I watched six feet in front of me for my whole life, I never anticipated my motherhood journey to be like it has been.
I found out I was pregnant in the spring of 2021, four months after getting married. We were happily surprised. Five days later, I started vomiting. (Thanks, Mom for that gene!) While the severity of my sickness ebbed and flowed through out my pregnancy, vomiting never left completely. At my best part of the journey, at least once a week, I still hugged the toilet. Then came the acid reflux and heart burn. And the not sleeping. And the not being able to get comfortable. Most moms have some form of discomfort during pregnancy. But even in the intense throwing up and being weak from vomiting, I knew that it was a temporary sickness for an amazing reward. One day, it would be worth it. I’d be all better soon!
On December 16th, 2021 I gave birth to our Noah. Instantly, my acid reflux and nausea left. Now I could get to the good part!
A couple hours later we found ourselves waiting in the hospital room to schedule reconstructive surgery for the fourth-degree tear (Noah was broad shouldered AND got stuck on his way out!) I had during his birth. I had no idea what I was in for. I didn’t even know what a fourth-degree tear was. I’ll spare you the surgery details, but suffice it to say that neither I nor my husband had any clue what was ahead for us. I couldn’t even get up go to the bathroom without him half carrying me. It was a different level of pain than I’d ever experienced before. I had to have help changing, showering, and going to the bathroom. I was in bed for weeks trying to heal.
Two weeks into motherhood and I started developing some issues with nursing. It had always hurt like crazy but I’d been told that was normal. But two weeks in I started dealing with mind-blowing pain. I did all the things. Every random natural remedy you can think of, I tried it. Multiple times. I talked with lactation consultants on the phone. Tried more things. Eventually it moved to mastitis in my right breast.
Nothing cuts that kind of pain. I CRIED just thinking about nursing each time. I’ve had a high pain tolerance for most of my adult life…but this…this was a whole new level of intensity. It never went away and my baby still had to eat. I about went out of my mind every time I nursed. I wept. I prayed. I cried some more.
Finally, seven weeks into mommyhood, we called in another lactation consultant. This one came to our house and spent three hours with us. I’m so grateful for her time and experience. She is the one who alerted us to Noah’s extreme tongue and lip ties. This is why he was losing weight and my mastitis infection was getting steadily worse.
We immediately started supplementing Noah with formula to get his weight up and went to the Emergency Room to get checked out. They didn’t seem concerned, but referred me to a breast specialist and in the meantime, the pain continued to get worse.
A few days later, I sat on an examination table, praying that there would be answers. I was at the end of myself. I’ve never been so weary in body and spirit. That kind of intense pain day after day will take it out of you. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t get comfortable. And with a newborn you nurse a lot…so the amount of pain per day was through the roof.
Two minutes and the doctor was direct and clear…the mastitis that had turned into an abscess from a staph infection. “You have to stop nursing right away and we need to schedule surgery this week. We have to clean out that infection immediately.” My world was already spinning too fast but this seemed like too much.
Fast forward a few more days to healing after another major surgery. Now I was in pain again, but differently. Both breasts hurt so bad that I couldn’t even hold my baby. That maximized the physical pain into emotional pain as well. And when I cried at night because I hurt and I just wanted to be a “normal” mommy and do normal Mom things like hold my baby and take him for a walk in the stroller, my husband couldn’t even hold me to comfort me. The pain wouldn’t leave. I was ten weeks out from having Noah and there wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel. Most moms were back to work by ten weeks and I was still in bed or on the couch. I felt robbed.
The pain was more intense from my second surgery than from my reconstruction after the birth. I almost passed out several times during the healing part. To be honest, I don’t even remember much from those weeks of healing. They say trauma does that to your brain sometimes. Survival was my only thought. My husband and I are forever grateful to my sister, Hope, who kept extending her trip to help us. She had agreed originally to come for two weeks and she ended up staying for over two months. I literally don’t know how we would have done it without her. She ran the house, cooked, did our laundry and took care of Noah, plus looked after me during the days so that Tim could continue working and taking care of me at night. I rely on her memory for things during that time because I have very few from that period of time.
I’ve learned something about motherhood. Besides the fact that I have a whole new appreciation for my amazing mother, motherhood is like a blank check that you sign for up to the amount of your entire life. We don’t always know what is ahead for us when we say yes to being a mommy. We don’t know the challenges we will face for the sake of our little blessings. I have scars that will forever be reminders of the sacrifices that motherhood cost me.
And I WOULDN’T CHANGE IT FOR ANYTHING.
Noah has been an amazing little image bearer to remind me of the God Who gave him to us.
I’m past the extreme pain now. I can drive myself places again and hike with my family and we’ve since had a little girl that Noah calls “Sissy”. So while most things are some sort of normal again, other things are forever changed because of those initial motherhood moments. There are lasting reminders that without supernatural healing, I will never be healed again.
“Now we have this treasure in clay jars, so that this extraordinary power may be from God and not from us. We are pressured in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but not destroyed. We always carry the death of Jesus in our body, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body…” 2 Corinthians 4:7-10
Maybe this is what it means to “carry the death of Jesus” in my body. Why? So that the “life of Jesus may also be revealed” in me. These aren’t the favorite pages of my story, friends…but they are the very ones God has used most for His glory. Because in those moments of pain and sorrow and uncertainty, Jesus was there. Holding me when I couldn’t be physically touched. Whispering to my heart the truth I needed to hear when no one else knew what to say. With me when no one else could be. He is so faithful. So kind. He is the Great Comforter.
Motherhood is a cross in a sense. A tiny picture of sacrifice like Jesus did for us. Giving His life and body so we could live. Being a mommy is like that too sometimes. Beautiful and broken. And so worth it.
Four Years of Marriage…
“So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, man must not separate.””
Matthew 19:6 HCSB
An older friend asked me a couple months into marriage what I thought of it. Being single for many years (before marrying) makes people ask you stuff like that. I remember responding quickly but honestly: “it’s the most challenging AND rewarding thing I’ve ever done.” I could tell by his face and smile that my answer would likely always be those same words. He had been married long enough to know…Marriage is always hard work and when you put the time in, can also be extremely rewarding.
Four years into marriage and my heart echoes this again and again.
We smile and admit that our four years of marriage have been riddled with unknowns and difficult challenges. In fact, some have told us we’ve squeezed 10-15 years worth of trials into four. For starters we’ve moved over a dozen times, have spent 10 months of our marriage living out of a suitcase while we waited for a more permanent home, and have weathered some significant health challenges after Noah’s birth which required two major surgeries for me. It has been a time of growth in tension. Bonding through tears. Prayer in the face of uncertainty. Hope in the middle of fearfulness. Trusting when we couldn’t see the end result.
Marriage is hard work. It’s two very different human beings with different personalities, different backgrounds and different upbringings coming together and learning to become their own family with a unified front.
One of the biggest things I’ve noticed about marriage is that everything else you do will fade in comparison to how people see you in your married context. It makes me wonder about 1 Corinthians 13…you can do a lot of things that are amazing in life. You can be successful in business. Have an amazing ministry. Own a great house. Even have good kids. But if your marriage isn’t something Godly to behold…no one will want what you have. They won’t want to follow you.
Tim and I were both in full time ministry as single adults so we knew marrying would mean another target on our marriage. Marriage in itself is a target for the enemy who hates what God created it to mirror. However, being in ministry AND marriage is a double whammy. I think we knew the price and talked about it ahead of time…but nothing prepares you for the immense pressure that comes when you stand on the edge of uncertainty, problems and physical challenges and need to choose to trust the God Who gave you each other. And how do you trust someone who you are still learning to know and understand? What do you say to your spouse when you watch him handle crazy financial pressure from unexpected medical bills? Or how do you walk through random and rare physical trials that leave one of you in tremendous pain and the other one having to suddenly be the caretaker for both you and your son? What do you do when you learn you have to move in 20 days, have no place to go and have a 4 month old baby all the while still battling physical challenges?
How do you stay honest with the pain and the weight of it all and grow TOGETHER versus let it tear you apart?
In all the craziness, we’ve been able to do ministry together several times in prison or at events for ex-offenders and their spouses and/or families. What do they watch more than anything? Not how flowery we are with our Scripture knowledge. Not if we can answer their many varied questions. Not what we look like or what credentials we have in our back pocket. More than anything, they watch our marriage.
So I’ve seen how this covenant between the three of us: God, Tim and I, has the greatest potential to reach the world. When we live it right, it’s our biggest spotlight on the Gospel. When we live it wrong…no one wants our Jesus. Lived right, others see how a Christian marriage is supposed to look radically different than those of the world…not living separate, selfish lives but instead being in unity and upholding the name of Jesus together. I’m not saying that you can’t have different ways you minister to people as a couple. That’s the beauty of being a team and having your own strengths and weaknesses. But I’ve seen several couples in ministry who don’t have a clue about what their spouse is involved in. Pastors who are so unconnected to their wives that you would literally never guess they are married…like roommates who aren’t sharing life emotionally.
I’ve met youth leaders who have their own world that their wife and kids aren’t part of.
I’ve met couples who do ministry at church or other parachurch ministries who are so distant from each other, come and go at different times to their ministry meetings and are like two ships passing in the night.
I’m not being judgmental. Hear me when I say this: it’s the most natural thing for a married couple to drift apart and live separate lives. This is the way we will eventually go if we don’t work at it. We will easily shift slightly each day until we wake up hardly knowing the person we sleep next to. It’s the path of least resistance.
Tim and I have talked about this very thing- that we have to choose to FIGHT to stay on the same page. To know what each other is feeling and thinking and struggling with. To know how to serve each other and parent together and put each other first. We have to choose this. Every. Single. Day. And the one day we don’t we start drifting. It will happen if we don’t fight for our marriage.
People often ask me how in the world Tim and I can handle being together as much as we are. We are married and live together PLUS we work together. In fact, the first two years of our marriage the ministry offices shared our house with us…so Tim was home for every meal and could walk down the hall to see us or even look across the room from the office to the kitchen where I was making dinner. Some people can’t understand how we weren’t at each other’s throats all the time. We were rarely apart.
All I can say is we’ve walked through some hellish things already in our marriage and we’ve learned to walk through them together. As a team.
I remember a time when I was so sick with our first pregnancy that I could barely get out of bed except to vomit regularly and then head back under the covers. Tim would check in on me often bringing electrolyte drinks on ice with a straw, coaxing me to eat whatever sounded good…which was typically something like macaroni and cheese. 🙂 When he got home from work he would make dinner, do dishes and start the laundry. Eventually I got more accustomed to working while extremely nauseated so was able to live a slower life for the last 4-5 months of pregnancy. Still vomiting almost every day, but learning to cope with it better.
During that time, we ministered together in prisons and ALWAYS the women especially were watching us like hawks. They saw me speak up front and then run to the back bathroom to throw up. They saw Tim compassionately take care of me…making sure I drank often, putting my feet up on a chair and steadying me with his hand when I was standing for long periods of time. Those glimpses into our marriage far outweighed our words about love, trust and faithfulness. They SAW what it looked like for a man to serve his wife and for some of them, it was the first time they had ever met a man like that.
You’ve heard “actions speak louder than words”? A Godly marriage might be one of your loudest ministries to the world. It may just be the biggest way you can showcase the Gospel to a dark place where true love is absent and selfishness runs wild.
Four years of marriage isn’t long in the scheme of things. But it’s long enough to know that it is the most challenging and rewarding thing I’ve ever done. Beautiful and hard. And so, so worth it.
Your story matters
In the eleven years I’ve been in full time ministry…the first part working with teen and twenty-something gals and the other part in womens prisons….I’ve heard a comment several times from Christians I bump into. “I don’t really have a testimony”.
It’s the goal of the devil to make us believe this lie. Why? Because your story does matter. Big time matters. And if the devil can get you to believe it doesn’t matter? He doesn’t have to worry about you using it for God’s glory.
The truth? Your story is perhaps one of the biggest tools God has given you to connect with people. It’s one of a kind. Unique to you. And no one else can tell it like you can.
Not convinced? I just shot a video in my kitchen talking about this very thing. So grab some coffee (or tea if you prefer!) and let’s have a conversation by clicking and watching…
This video is raw and real. Filled with my own personal stories, a few laughs and a tear or two. The thing I know now is that the pages of my story that are most painful and awkward? They aren’t wasted. Sharing those parts of my story with others helps let the healing in.
I hope this encourages you to stop listening to that voice telling you that your story doesn’t matter and start listening to the One who calls you chosen. Loved. Capable. Courageous. You were made for this moment. For today.
So tell your story. It matters.
Carrying their burden…
They say you cant know someone else’s pain. But you can sure hurt for them in a big way.
You can see it in their eyes and ache to take away the hurt…only to have to sit there and listen without an ounce of ability to rescue. You can cry tears of sadness when you think of their stories. You can beat down the doors of people who might could help. People who can give. People who can go. People who have the power to make decisions that will right the wrong. But you can’t actually take the pain away. You can only carry it deep inside you like a wound that never heals.
It is a with you in the middle of the night when you wake and think of her appeal for parole being denied, three years in a row. All the while her babies are waiting for her, praying she can come home soon.
It is with you first thing in the morning when the rays of sunlight peek through the trees and you wish she could see the sunrise in freedom. You see her face, begging you to pray for her family to be reconciled when she hasn’t talked to them in ten years and they’ve disowned her since her imprisonment.
The ache is with you when you pour your morning coffee and think about the young woman you met who grew up on the streets of Boston and broke into cars during the night just to keep from freezing to death. You think about her smile and the warmth that now lives in her heart because of Jesus.
It is with you when you drive to the grocery store…the friend coming out of prison who can’t get a job because of her record. You know she would be faithful. She will work for peanuts…just to have a chance at an honest life. But her record speaks louder than her current character.
That feeling is with you again while you fold laundry and wash dishes…reminded of the gal who stood in that concrete room with tears streaming down her cheeks and proclaimed that she was a new creation before being baptized. That moment felt sacred.
It is with you again when you remember the woman in her 30s who told her story to you… the first person she ever told in 20 years…the abuse and trauma she endured as a teenager and torment of being silent about it all those years. And you remember the way she seemed lighter after speaking the words out loud…how she wept and then smiled through her tears with gratefulness. How beautiful freedom looked on her face.
This pain is with you again at every meal, your prayers turning towards speaking their names and asking for them to be helped while blessing your food.
This weight doesn’t leave your chest ever. It’s heavy on you. Always on your mind. Their names in your night prayers. Their faces scroll through your memory during the day. Their voices pleading for help. For mercy. For wisdom. For belonging and family. For a new beginning.
Some would say you can’t really walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. But you can carry their burdens in your heart. Your mind- always pregnant with the deep suffering they live…some by choice and others by someone’s else’s.
You give Hope through Jesus whenever you can. Truth through the Word. Encouragement and prayers. A letter when you can. And it always seems so little. Like putting a bandaid on the wound of a lifetime.
So you keep praying, keep sharing the agonizing stories and asking others to step in where they can. Raising awareness of prisoners needs. Encouraging others to take risk with someone they wouldn’t normally hire. Recruiting volunteers. All the while you’re heart burning for the ones you know behind bars.
The call you have isn’t empty words. It isn’t easy. You can’t pay someone to have passion and calling. And though you’re passionate about this calling- it’s more than just passion. Yours is a mission that has faces and names and real life stories that move you to tears. When you talk about them, you choke up because your heart is hurting. Part of you is locked up with them. And they know: you can’t forget them if you tried. They’re a part of you.
So no, you can’t feel their pain exactly, but you can carry it deep inside you like a wound that never heals. It’s not a vocation to you, it’s part of who you are. Woven into the fibers of your existence like blood vessels and bones and sinews. It’s what makes you excited to share Jesus and you can always find time to talk about them to others.
Maybe this is why you feel like an odd ball sometimes. No one wants to talk about prison and sad stories and the lack of freedom for hours on end. Except…you do. And the heaviness in your chest…this explosive love for these hurting people…it doesn’t leave you. Ever. So even in the happiest of occasions, you carry their pain. And it hurts. Your heart hurts for them.
This is what I’m thinking of tonight. My mind thinking of why I do this and how heavy this calling feels sometimes.
Maybe this is what Jesus meant when He said to “Carry one another’s burdens; in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2 HCSB) This is for sure: carrying burdens is gonna be heavy. Weighty. Hard. Tricky. Cumbersome. Awkward. It might even make me awkward for some people to hang out with. Cause I have seen another world. And it’s changed me. There is a wound inside me that hurts daily for the women I know behind bars. It’s not just something I know. It’s something I feel to my core.
Their pain has become mine.
Even Church Girls Need Jesus
The moment is burned into my memory. The conviction I felt in my little five-and-a-half-year-old heart as I listened to the revival service. I had been in church since in utero. I was there every time the doors were open. Why would I need to be saved? What could a five-year-old possibly need saved from? Here’s the truth…
Even church girls need JESUS.
Even church girls. The ones who grew up going to church all the time. They teethed on the Bible, went to every VBS program, won awards in AWANA and went on mission trips as teenagers. Those girls need Jesus. The Gospel isn’t about bad people being made good. The Gospel is about dead people coming to life by the power of the cross. And all of us are born dead in sin. Even church girls.
That revival service in 1994 was my moment of realizing that perfection is required for heaven and I wasn’t perfect. That’s why I needed Jesus. I walked the aisle with my dad, crying and feeling this weight in my chest. I was only five, but I can remember that crushing inside that I felt. Since then I have recognized that to be the Holy Spirit…so lovingly inviting me to a closer relationship with Him. I don’t know what I said, but it doesn’t really matter because it’s less about what I said and more about what Jesus DID. He forgave me. Washed me. Rescued me from myself.
February 26, 1994 was my reborn day. Thirty years ago. Still, it’s my favorite day.
As I got older, I had moments in time when I moved into the Gospel in other ways…realizing that it is for every day. Awakening to the truth that I need Jesus for every single day. When I get upset at how my world is spinning or people who treat me with disrespect, I need Jesus. When I am in the darkest days of depression, anxiety and fear, I need Jesus. When I am in the middle of excruciating pain and undergoing surgeries, I need Jesus. In my daily mama duties of making food for a toddler, washing laundry and nursing a 4-month-old, I need Jesus.
I need me some Jesus, friends. Every day.
No one is perfect, even if they pretend to be. We like to act like once we become Christians that all of life is right side up and we are good to go. There’s even some shaming that goes on between Christians who think you shouldn’t have problems after you have Jesus. I don’t know what planet those people are from, but they must not be reading the same Bible because in John 16:33 Jesus says, “I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world.”
“Consider it great joy, my brothers, whenever you experience various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. But endurance must do it’s complete work, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.” James 1:2-4
It’s okay to not be okay. Somehow in our quest to be obvious followers of Jesus to everyone we have dismissed our need for Him. However, it’s okay to share your problems. It’s permissible to have questions and acknowledge that you need Jesus to answer them. It’s human to have needs that you ask God to meet. Don’t carry them all alone. Be honest.
The western world is full of fake Christians…but the unbelievers who surround us want us to be authentic with our faith. They want tangible evidence of Jesus being real. We need to admit that we are church girls who still need Jesus. Church girls with needs and questions and concerns…that we are daily taking to the cross. Church girls who admit our weakness and God’s strength. Church girls who aren’t prideful and religious but are so in love with this Jesus Who not only saves, but daily redeems our messes. A Jesus who steps into our mess and walks with us.
Why did Jesus come to earth? Two reasons. John 10:10, “I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance.” The Gospel is about salvation, yes. But it’s also about ABUNDANT LIFE. That’s the part we learn to live out each day. Our neediness for Christ speaks of His power alive in us.
We’ve heard this phrase all our lives: “I don’t mean to preach to the choir…” Let me tell you, sometimes the choir needs the most preaching to! I call it religious baggage…and people with it are the hardest people to reach with the Gospel, because they aren’t aware of their need. WE all need Jesus, even those in the choir loft! Y’all- we need to preach to church people. The second we think we are “safe” because we are in church, raised in the church and doing God’s work, we are dangerously UNsafe. I’ll be honest: I’ve met a lot of church girls in prison. Pastors’ daughters. Christian counselors. Youth group leaders. Homeschooled kids. Church secretaries. They thought they were safe doing all the religious things…but just a few wrong choices and they were suddenly sitting in a place that they never dreamed they’d be.
Sin is not a respecter of persons. Even church girls need Jesus. Every single day.
Before my current job in prison ministry, I worked mostly with the demographic of young women raised in the church. It later morphed into church women of all ages. I loved my job and really thought maybe that was my lifelong vocation. My biggest challenge? Pride. Because church girls think they are good. In comparison to “worldy” gals they felt pretty smug. And let me tell you…this attitude they came by honestly because the church ADULTS were saying the same thing. There were so many conversations I had with parents or pastors who said the words “we have everything our girls need, we don’t need any outside help.” Or “my daughter is doing so good. She’s so mature, I don’t think she needs this.”
For context, our ministry hosted weekend retreats for girls who wanted to go deeper in their walks with God. We talked about relevant topics like identity, beauty, personal relationship with Jesus, witnessing, friendship, etc. It was always discouraging because I knew as a twenty-something their girls weren’t safe. They were only two steps away from being in trouble. I know this because all of us are only two choices away from being in hot water. The first offense we may get off on but the second one will land us in jail.
Then in 2017, I volunteered for the first time to go into a prison and share about the Bible. Within two days I knew this was my calling. Like stepping into the light of what I was CREATED to do. One of the biggest epiphanies for me was the hunger for Jesus I witness behind bars. The desperateness for God. The obvious neediness.
“It’s helplessness, not holiness that is the first step to accessing God.” – Dr. Tim Keller
I came home from that two-week trip into Florida prisons forever changed when it came to ministry. I wanted to go to people that have that kind of hunger…not just of their sakes but for mine! Watching God redeem and step into the messes of other women day after day renews my hope in the Gospel. It strengthens my hunger for the Word of God. It challenges me to dig into Scripture for answers to my life answers.
In a way, prison ruined me…because I was instantly tired of going to those who thought they were good and instead craved going to those who know of their need. Just to be clear- not all church girls/women pretend they don’t need Jesus…I just found it not to be the normative, in conservative culture especially. Like the difference between ministering to the older brother versus the prodigal in the parable of the two sons found in Luke 15. The truth is, I NEED JESUS and sometimes I forget this. I want to be constantly reminded of my dependence on the Creator of the Universe for my very breath. I literally wouldn’t even want Jesus or be drawn to Him if it wasn’t for the Holy Spirit. My hunger for the Word is awakened by Him. I need him for every single part of my Christian walk.
Thirty years after saying YES to Jesus for the first time, I’m in awe of His faithfulness to me when I am prone to wander. Predisposed to forgetting my need. Inclined to doubt His goodness. This is why…
THIS church girl needs Jesus. Every. Single. Day.
Faithful Saints
Is it worth it? She didn’t actually ask me that question, but it was the underlying tone in her discouragement. I could hear it her in the words she used. This teacher who was up to her neck and feeling like it wasn’t panning out how she hoped.
For anyone working in ministry, teaching children, leading a Bible study or preaching at a small church…these sentiments have likely been on your radar at one time or another. There are plenty of unseen roles in life that often leave us wondering if we are making a difference. If our effort really matters.
Her words were honest. Raw. Real. And somewhere in my soul, they struck a chord. How many times I have felt those same emotions, because I care. People who feel these things generally feel them because they really love those they are ministering to. They just wish they could SEE the progress. See the fruit. See the difference.
A mother wondering if her teenagers really see the sacrifice she’s been making for their whole lives…including sleepless nights and wearing spit up for the first year of their lives. A preacher wishing his congregation would show some life change after years of teaching the Word. A teacher wondering if she will ever know how the little kids will turn out as adults while she’s currently helping them learn to read. For me, I’ve spoken in women’s prisons and talked to ladies one-on-one and wondered if I’ll ever see them again and hear if they’ve made lasting life changes for Jesus.
There are hard days. Days when everything we do feels like an uphill climb with no positive results on the horizon.
Does it matter?
Is this worth it?
The words took me back to a time I hadn’t thought about in years. My 5th-6th grade Sunday school teacher, Mary Smalley. She was old even then in the late 1990s. Beautiful white hair. She was a short lady with a gentle spirit and soft voice. What made her keep teaching girls for YEARS AND YEARS? I’m not sure the actual numbers of years she taught that age group of girls, but I know it was way up there…like DECADES and DECADES.
Let that just sink in. 5th-6th grade girls aren’t an easy demographic. I don’t care if they are church girls. They are hard work. They have identity issues and don’t listen well. They are more concerned about their looks and how they fit in than being a Biblical theologian. But deep in their souls, whether they know it or not yet, they desperately need the Jesus Who can save and redeem.
Does it really matter? Do those teachers really make a difference?
I can imagine Mrs. Smalley felt the same way. Years and years of teaching fifth and sixth grade girls who didn’t pay attention. Didn’t give her respect. Didn’t act like they cared. For all the lessons she taught- I can’t remember one. But I knew two things- she loved Jesus and she loved us. She had to. Why else would she keep doing it?
In a world where 10% of church members do 90% of the work, Sunday School teachers are a meager bunch. A small group doing eternal things. Faithful saints like Mary Smalley.
I think about her sometimes and wish I could tell her now the impact it made on shy 6th grade me…her faithfulness made a difference. And I’m reminded of it on days that I might want to quit ministry myself. There are days it’s tough. Living in an entitled world that doesn’t seem to see you. But Jesus does. And there might be one shy girl that notices. She doesn’t say it now. Yet deep inside, she is storing away the moments of love and being present that you are gifting her. She might be the one who goes and does this same thing for scores of others one day. Because you were faithful today.
When I was about 20 years old, I wrote Mary Smalley a letter telling her how grateful I was for her investment in my life. At the time, I wasn’t in full-time ministry like I am now…my fruit wasn’t in yet…but I was grateful for her time and effort. She later told me in all her decades of teaching Sunday School, no one had every come back and thanked her.
You may be someone like Mary Smalley. Someone who faithfully invests in others and have no one thanking you. Your heart wonders…does this really matter? Am I making a difference?
Let me be the voice whispering the truth to your heart in moments of discouragement: YES. Your faithfulness matters. Like daffodils coming up again and again in the spring, you are there. Present. Faithful. Trustworthy. The steady in someone else’s unstable life. Your investment matters.
And somewhere out there, though she is silent now, she is watching. Waiting. Soaking in the love and Word you are pouring in. One day she will minister to others that you’ll never touch but you are invested in because today you showed up. Today you are faithful. Today you love when it’s not easy.
Don’t stop, friend. Eternity will be different because of you.
Mountains and Base Trails
“I’m tired of doing life my way.”
Her words seemed to echo in the concrete room. I could see it in her eyes. She was done with her old life. She was weary of the string of bad decisions that landed her in jail. Tears streamed down her face as she held my hand and spoke those words. She was only a few years older than me…but with a long history of heartache and sadness. Some from her own choices, and some from the choices of others. Her words cut to my heart.
“I’m tired of doing life my way.”
If we’re honest, life isn’t always what we’d like it to be. It’s not supposed to be this way. Or at least that’s what we feel deep in our souls. Life should be easier. It shouldn’t feel like walking through molasses with knee boots. There shouldn’t be things like cancer and death and broken relationships and divorce. We feel that things like disability and child illnesses and premature birth shouldn’t be okay. The affects of a broken world cut deep into our souls.
We want our lives to be easier. Simpler. More understandable. The map of life at times seems shrouded by clouds of uncertainty and pain.
Our paths are all different. Sometimes we make the trails more difficult by trying to blaze our own way through things God never intended us to. Sometimes we wimp out and miss the view.
Several years ago I went to a state park with Tim, who is now my husband, but at the time just a friend. It was a cold time of year and because of the chance of rain, we decided against climbing the mountain and instead chose the base trail that wound around the bottom. The base trail was simpler, less climbing and huffing and puffing, as per usual. There was a calmness about taking the base trail that I hadn’t experienced before. It was steady and slow. There wasn’t any huge physical exertion and other than crossing a cold creek, I didn’t have any difficulties.
We could walk and talk without me having to stop to gain my breath. Since we were in the trees, we didn’t have the chill of the wind and I didn’t have to be as careful with my footing.
I realized that life is like that. Sometimes we take the base trail and wind around the bottom of the mountain. We can’t see the beauty much, but there’s stillness because the trees block the wind. Other times we fight to climb the mountain. The hike up to the top is colder and windier, but the beauty is worth it in the end.
We have base trails in life that we need to hike. We have mountain climbs that we are called to do as well. We need one to appreciate the other.
I see it repeatedly in the eyes of women I meet behind bars…the craving for more. For something that satisfies the longing in our bones more than the temporary thrill of sin. Something that is steady and unchanging in the face of a shifting world. We all want security amidst all the instability.
So we run and chase things that don’t measure up. Most often we run from the very thing we are seeking…truth.
“I’m ready to face my demons. I’m tired of running,” another woman told me at the same county jail. Tired of running. Tired of doing life our way.
We need the map and we need the Guide. The One Who can tell us which trail to take…sometimes at the base of the mountain to appreciate the stillness and other times the tough climb up the mountain side to appreciate the view. Both are important at the right times.
I don’t know about you, but I’m weary of creating my own path to where I think I should be going when I have a capable Guide Who knows where I need to be and when. He is trustworthy. He is kind. And He is certainly the best Companion to walk with along the way. When we are tired of our own way…He has the map, He has the experience and He has the wisdom to help us face our pasts and stop running away from, but TO Himself.
This year, I’m starting out with new goals and dreams…but ultimately, I know the path He chooses might turn out different than I expected. That’s okay. I’ve hiked enough with Him in life to know Jesus is the best Navigator. I’ll leave the road to Him and just follow His footsteps. 2024 is going to be a great year!
What Makes Me Healthy
My first tangle with depression was in April of 2017. It lasted for months. I had never encountered such darkness. Such sadness. The cloud hung over me 24 hours a day and I couldn’t seem to shake it.
Depression is not something that everyone deals with. However, if you have, you’ve likely faced it more than once. I tell people I meet that depression sometimes acts like pneumonia…once you’ve had it, it’s easier to get it again.
What I learned in those months of depression have helped me tremendously in life. I know this for sure: I don’t want to have to deal with that level of darkness ever again. (And I know there are people out there that deal with depression far more than I ever have…even tending towards suicidal thoughts. I’m not minimizing those serious feelings. Just speaking from my own experience.)
I’m not an expert of defeating depression. But I know it’s voice. And I’m actively trying to silence it.
I’ve learned my “triggers” and how to recognize when I’m in an unhealthy place. When I’m in my “healthy space” my chances of depression are almost nonexistent. So I try to stay in the healthy spot- emotionally, physically and spiritually. So this begs the question: what makes me healthy?
In one of my unhealthy time periods when I felt depression hanging out at the door, I asked myself this question on a yellow sticky note. I kept adding to it as I noticed things in life that made me stable, grounded, full and happy. I posted the sticky note at my work desk where I could see it every day.
In the years that followed, I’ve typed snd printed it out and have it stuck there at my work desk. Often, women visiting my office have asked about it. It’s opened a lot of conversations about depression and staying emotionally, physically and spiritually healthy. Because of the talks I’ve had with people I wanted to share my list (exactly how it’s posted at my desk!) and how it’s helped me over the years recognize and spot depression before it gets a foothold.
What makes me healthy?
Bible time. And studying.
Prayer. Through the day.
Writing. Journaling, blogging, etc.
Exercise. Best in the morning.
Worship. Both thanks and in song.
Mentorship. Those pouring into me.
Friendship. Those who sharpen me.
Serving. Output! Me mentoring others.
Little people time. Kids help me tremendously.
Rest, water and decent diet.
Your list may look different. It may not have kids on it and have painting instead. It may have swimming as a huge part of your well-being. That’s not something you’d ever find on my list, but hey, we are all individually unique!
I posted this at my desk because when I feel depression trying to creep in, I can look at these things and figure out where I’m “off”. 99 times out of 100, one of these areas aren’t being kept up on. When I reposition myself for health, the darkness leaves.
Obviously, this is not a prescription against 100% of depression. There are a thousand other factors that can contribute to feelings of depression including childhood trauma, hormone imbalances, and other things. Sometimes you need professional help, and there’s nothing wrong with that! I’m grateful for people who do that kind of thing and the wisdom from God’s Word they have to deal with sensitive and deep issues or doctors who can tackle tricky things like hormones. I just know from where I sit, I can guard against most of my personal attacks by staying in a place of health in spirit, soul and body.
I believe we are each a spirit in a body with a soul. We are made in the image of God as spirit beings. Our souls are made up of our mind, will and emotions. When all of these things are well balanced and healthy, we are better equipped to handle the attacks of the enemy or sickness. For example, if you have a healthy body, when sickness comes your way, you will be more likely to fight it off without much ado. If you’re unhealthy, it may lead to infection, prolonged healing or further serious injury.
The same is true of our spirits and souls. If our spiritual person isn’t staying healthy and taking our “spiritual vitamins” and doing “spiritual exercise” to make our inner man strong, we are more susceptible to the enemy’s attack. Our souls can be made healthy too- what we feed our souls (mind, will and emotions) can help or cripple our souls. What are you watching? What people are you hanging around? What are you reading? What activities are you involved in?
“Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life.” Proverbs 4:23 HCSB Interestingly enough, the word for ‘your heart’ in Hebrew is translated to mean, “the heart, the feelings, the will, the intellect, center.” So the mind, will and emotions- the soul! We are to guard our souls because out of them, the center of our beings, flow life.
One thing that has really helped me to stay in a healthy place is gratitude. I look for the beauty in every day and breathe thanks for each thing. I have times of writing those moments down in my “gratitude journal”. Sometimes I voice them out loud in praise. Just the LOOKING for God in the ordinary things of life has helped me have a more positive attitude. Like this photo…taken early one morning when I got up to feed my baby. The sunrise was streaming through the dirty window. I snapped a picture. Ordinary grace is beautiful, isn’t it?
I’ve had times of sadness and heartache since my bout with depression in 2017. But by God’s Grace, it’s never hit anywhere near as severely since then. I’ve had days of sadness or times of significant loss and pain…but nothing compared to that depth of darkness several years ago. I’m learning to constantly lean on the Lord and the wisdom of others to counteract the wiles of the enemy. Keeping healthy is key…in spirit, body and soul.
Lost and Found
The shrill scream caught my attention immediately. It was the kind that would turn any mother’s head…and even though I wasn’t a mom yet, I had lived enough life around little people I knew that particular kind of scream meant terror. Someone was freaking out and it sounded to be a child around five or six years old. I looked for the little one making the noise and saw her over the heads of a few people in the crowd. My guess was right…she was around five years old and was terrified.
My husband and I were about a week into our honeymoon. It was the very end of November and the air was quite chilly, even for the south. We were spending a few days in Branson, Missouri at Silver Dollar City and watched a viewing of “Noah” at the Sight and Sound theater. This particular evening, we were at Silver Dollar City walking around and admiring the Christmas light show. I remember it was freezing, but the lights, Christmas music, hot cocoa and being with my favorite person made it worth it. We were at the base of a hill in a more crowded area when we heard the infamous scream.
Even though this was pre-motherhood days for me, I was already a kid person. And the sheer panic in this little girl’s scream made my heart go out to her. She was lost. I could tell. I instantly recalled the time I got separated from my dad in a department store around that age. Moments like that aren’t easily forgotten. The dread. The feeling of my heart pounding out of my chest. The way my little legs started walking faster and faster while my eyes searched for a familiar face. I could feel all of those emotions as I heard this little girl’s cries and screams. She called out for her dad.
We continued walking toward the girl as a few folks gathered around her trying to calm her down, ask questions, and search for her parents. She tried to answer between sobs. A man with a walkie-talkie started radioing about her. Apparently, he worked there. Some kids clambered up to the top of a rock wall next to the pavement as a look out for any potential parents on the horizon. People started pulling together, trying to help this little girl.
It seemed like an eternity. The little girl, sobbing and screaming at different intervals. My husband and I watched all this unfold in a matter of five minutes… even though it felt as if it was forever. My chest tightened with pity. Poor thing. This little girl was so scared. Somehow she had lost track of her parents.
I remember how it happened to me years ago. I was with my dad looking at clothes in the store. It was the part of the store where there were racks of shirts hanging that you can walk around. The racks were taller than me, so I couldn’t see over them. I had gotten bored of whatever Dad was looking for, so I started looking around me. I wandered further and further away, unknowingly. Then I randomly decided I needed to tell my Dad something. Or maybe I needed something from him. Either way, that’s how I discovered he was gone. I was lost.
It’s interesting to think about how often this same scenario has played out in my life with God. I get sidetracked and lose my sight of Him. He doesn’t move away from me, I move away from Him. I drop His hand and wander off, sure that I can turn around at any time when I need Him. Truth is, He can always hear me. But by the time I realize my need for Him, He usually isn’t within my eye sight and I panic.
The scary part about being lost is the fear of never being found. Pastor and author David Platt wrote, “There’s really only one thing worse than being lost. What’s worse is being lost when no one is trying to find you.”
Thankfully, a good father never gives up a search for his child.
Before I noticed I lost my dad in that department store as a five-year-old, my dad already knew I had wandered off and was looking for me. Although it seemed like a never-ending, terrifying eternity, in reality it was probably all of five minutes. Being lost for five minutes can feel like a world of fear and trepidation. It can feel endless. Your life can flash before your eyes. And you wonder if your dad will ever find you.
We all want to be found. This young girl in Branson was no different
After what seemed like forever, we heard a man’s voice yelling out a girl’s name. He was running down the hill and calling out for his daughter. We all snapped to attention. Almost immediately, the little girl jumped up, recognizing the voice and ran into the man’s arms. There wasn’t a question in anyone’s mind: this was her daddy. She was found. The father had found his lost little girl.
The relief in the air was palpable. People clapped. The kids on the rock wall cheered. The guy with the radio was wiping away tears. I was choking up too! It felt like a Christmas miracle you’d see in the movies. The emotions and excitement we all felt for this little girl we had only met moments before was beautiful. Everyone was smiling, laughing, cheering, congratulating the reunited family. We felt a part of her story.
Just then my husband said out loud, “That must be what it’s like in heaven when a lost soul comes to Jesus.”
MIC DROP.
And just like that, I’m in tears because the parallel is flawless. It WAS a perfect picture of Jesus and each of us being redeemed.
“I tell you, in the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous people who don’t need repentance.” Luke 15:7 HCSB
In Luke 15 we have three parables that mirror what heaven is like when someone is “found” by Jesus. The lost sheep. The lost coin. The lost son. These stories have always stirred my heart in a special way, but they have never struck me as profoundly as they have in the last five years working in prison. These verses come to LIFE in front of me every day I’m behind razor wire and concrete walls.
“I tell you, in the same way, there is joy in the presence of God’s angels over one sinner who repents.” Luke 15:10 HCSB
When someone is found, those who participate in the story get to be part of the rejoicing. That’s what I get to do every day in prison. Watch Jesus “find” His lost child, one at a time. I get a front row seat. I’m like the kids standing up on the rock wall cheering for the little girl. I’m like the guy with the walkie-talkie, wiping away tears. I’m filled with joy like the angels in heaven watching the Father run with open arms to welcome a daughter who has been lost for what seems to be forever.
The hero of the story isn’t the kids on the wall, the man with the radio, or even the little girl screaming for her daddy. The Hero of the story is always the Daddy. The Abba Father. The One Who never stops searching for His wandering child. The Father Who is always waiting with open arms to comfort His little girl when she’s been stuck for far too long. He is the Hero for forgiving. For healing. For saving.
So today…If you’re wondering if He’s looking for you, friend. He is. He has never stopped. Turn and call His name. He is coming down the hill right now to meet you.
And if you’re wanting to see Daddy and child reunions, stand on the wall and get ready to party. Don’t let the angels out shout you. Lost and found kids are something to cheer about.
Part 5- YOUR PEOPLE
Over the last several weeks, we have been discussing the importance of having three certain relationships in our lives: Paul-coaches, Barnabas-friends and Timothy-mentees. This is the final part in our five-part series.
In order to find all of these relationships in your life, you need to also BE all those relationships to someone else. You need to be a Paul to someone. You need to be a Barnabas to someone. You need to be a Timothy to someone.
There may be times in your life when you don’t have all three working strongly in your world. But to be well-balanced, and fully living out your spiritual, emotional and mental potential, I believe you need all three.
If you have most of them but not a Timothy, you’ll be spiritually obese…a taker and not a giver. A stagnant pond. I’ve been there before and it’s miserable. We are designed to be givers. Find a Timothy.
Or maybe you have all three but not Barnabas friends. That will lead you to be legalistic and inhuman- looking for friends who are carbon copies of yourself and shying away from people who aren’t like you. People without Barnabas friends are often self-obsorbed, self-focused and prideful. I’ve been there before. You need friends who are DIFFERENT than you and can file down your rough edges. Find a Barnabas. Or a FEW!
Or maybe you have Timothys and Barnabas friends, but no Pauls. You’ll become cancerous. Giving but not receiving. Before long you will think you don’t need a mentor and you won’t except advice from anyone but the person in the mirror or people online who don’t know you. That’s how to run your tank dry… it’s miserable and will stunt your growth. You NEED to be filled. Fed. Taught. Coached. Trained. Corrected. Disciplined and discipled. Find a Paul.
Simple put: YOU. NEED. YOUR. PEOPLE.
This isn’t an optional way of living if you want fullness and fruitfulness in Christ. We just aren’t wired to be loners and self-sufficient. We need each other.
Evaluate your friends and the people closest to you… What category would they fall into? Which kind of relationship are you most lacking in? Where can you grow and learn more? For example…maybe you have a Paul in your life…but there is one area you just WILL NOT take advice in. From anyone for that matter. Are there areas you could become more teachable in for your growth and the benefit of those around you? Maybe you are resistant to the idea of a Timothy because you don’t want to spend the time and effort. Maybe you often say the words “I don’t have any friends”…that’s a good sign you might be too picky on who you’re befriending. The main things are good to see the same on- like Jesus. But beyond that you can be friends with people who aren’t like you. You will GROW that way.
Friends are important. Vital to our growth and spiritual walk. Accountability and feedback are the ways we process and learn. So, don’t be afraid to step out. Invite someone to coffee. Introduce yourself to the new person at church. Be a good friend and look for your Paul-coaches, Barnabas-friends and Timothy-mentees.
YOU NEED YOUR PEOPLE.
Part 4- Timothy Mentees
Two weeks ago, I had the pleasure of talking to a Sunday School group of young women in Michigan about FRIENDS. We talked about the lies we believe about friends and the types of relationships we need to grow and be well-rounded as humans. It was an amazing time and one thing I loved was the conversation that happened. Girls from 11-25 years old shared about their friends and what we can do to protect ourselves from the wrong kind and pour our energy into the right kind. What a privilege it was to share from my life and encourage wise decisions when it came to relationships. Why? Because friends MATTER.
Here’s the thing: We aren’t designed to be stagnant ponds. We are made to be streams that channel water from one place to another. You need to be mentoring or “living life” with a person who is following you in the faith. Again, this is part of our nurturing design as women. We are meant to spiritually mother! Mothering (no matter our current season of life) is in our DNA as women.
One of the reasons I LOVE talking to teenagers or gals in their twenties is because I was CREATED to do that. To nurture life in others. To pass on what I’ve been given. To encourage and high-five and hug those coming along in the faith. (No pun intended.)
Your future is not in money or position or success. Your future is in people.
It’s the only thing that will last forever. SOOOOO… why not invest in people, so that you live on when you’re dead? Put into someone else what your Pauls are giving to you and your Barnabas friends are encouraging in you?
Look at Elijah and Elisha. Elijah pouring into Elisha to the point that when the test came (2 Kings 2), Elisha passed it with flying colors. He was granted his wish of a double portion of the spirit of Elijah. Get this: Elisha did more in his lifetime than his mentor did. Your goal in mentoring should be this: your Timothy will go further than you have. How cool is that? Help them try to avoid your mistakes and always, always point them to the Jesus Who loves them more than you do.
A few days ago, my husband and I were reading in John. Something struck me about John the Baptist that I had never seen before in the context of this type of relationship.
Again the next day, John was standing with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus passing by, he said, “Look! The Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this and followed Jesus. (John 1: 35-37, HCSB)
I love this. John the Baptist was discipling these two guys and when Jesus came along, he pointed to Him. He drew their attention to Him. Then his disciples left following John to follow Jesus. WHICH IS THE WHOLE POINT, FRIENDS. We want those we are mentoring to follow Jesus. Don’t take offense to it. Encourage it. You want your Timothys to go further with Jesus than you have in your life. Your number one goal as a mentor is to point them to Jesus.
Discipleship and mentoring. Pass it on.
Evaluate Your Relationships: Do you have anyone you’re pouring into regularly? If you’re a mom, your kids DO count…however, they should NOT be the only ones you are nurturing. God has hardwired it in your DNA to nurture life in others.
Practical Steps to Moving Forward: If you don’t have a Timothy, PRAY FOR ONE. There are already a few around you, but you don’t want to rush in like a bull in a china shop and wreck their world. Be a friend first. One who is interested in their life and how you can help them reach their full potential. Mentorship doesn’t have to be staged or super structured, but it does need to be INTENTIONAL. Invite a young teenager from church to come over and chat while you do laundry. Take her on trips to the grocery store and grab coffee on the way. The best kind of mentorship is DOING LIFE TOGETHER.
Further resources on this topic: Nurture by Lisa Bevere and Adorned by Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth;
Part 3- Barnabas Friends
Friends.
Paul had Barnabas. David had Jonathan. You need someone who gets you and loves you anyway. These are people in your life who sharpen you.
“Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17 HCSB
We need friends that are heading in the same direction: Jesus. We need people who will walk this journey with us. Our Pauls in life are ahead of us, our Timothys are behind us, and our Barnabas friends are next to us.
The name Barnabas means “son of encouragement”. That’s the word picture we need for our Barnabas friends. These are the kind of friends who can tell you when you’ve stepped out of line, who know your heart song and sing it back to you when you forget. They have your back. They walk beside you and are often in the same stage of life as you. They tell you when you have lettuce in your teeth too, which we all know is necessary and needful.
I have several Barnabas friends in my life. Typically, my Barnabas friends have been my polar-opposites. They balance me beautifully. They typically have wildly different personalities than me. Vivacious and colorful and eccentric. But our hearts are tightly woven together because we share the same Jesus and strong faith in the Word. One person commented to me about one of my closest friends: “you two are like the fox and the hound”. We laughed and acknowledged how true his words were. We are from different church denominations, look very different in dress styles, and our personalities couldn’t be more opposite.
Barnabas relationships can be like that…but here’s the thing: I become the best version of who Jesus wants me to be when I have Barnabas friends who are different than me and we can love each other because of it. They will show you a different perspective and fill in the spaces YOU CAN’T.
You can’t be everything for everyone all the time. That’s why you need your people. Your Barnabas friends. To fill all the spaces you can’t and be the person you aren’t made to be (but they are). There will be days that you need your friends to point you to Jesus.
There is a story I love in the Bible about friends. It’s found in Mark 2:1-12. When it comes to friends, I think this passage nails it down to four specific things that a good friend is. To cap the story in a nutshell, Jesus is in his hometown teaching in a house. The crowd gathered so big that there wasn’t room for anymore. There was a paralyzed man who needed to be healed…but he couldn’t get to Him. So, his four friends carried him to Jesus. (Y’all, that’ll preach…but I’ll try not to get sidetracked here…) If that wasn’t enough, when they arrived there and couldn’t get to Him, they refused to take NO for an answer. They took their friend to the roof and broke through. Then they lowered their friend to Jesus to be healed.
Verse 5 slays me every time: “Seeing their faith, Jesus told the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’” Later He heals the man and WALKS away. In my Bible, I’ve underlined and circled the phrase SEEING THEIR FAITH. I think it’s amazing that Jesus healed this man based on his friends’ faith, not his own. WOW. Y’all. That’s proof that it DOES MATTER who you choose for your friends. Do they have faith? Are they persistent? Will they carry you to Jesus? Are they willing to show up and get into your mess when you need them to?
Find your people.
The ones who will love you and not think anything less of you no matter what you tell them. Your people, your Barnabas friends, will show up and walk with you through tough times. They will carry you to Jesus. They will hold your hand when you’re crying and wipe your tears away. Your Barnabas friends will say: “I’m with you.” We don’t get places alone.
“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” -African proverb
Evaluate Your Relationships: Name your Barnabas friends. Ask yourself these questions: are these people pointing me to Jesus? Are they full of faith and persistence? Are they willing to get in the mess with me? Do they show up when I need them? Also ask yourself this: am I that kind of friend to others?
Also note, everyone needs friends. But not everyone needs YOU as their friend. If there is someone you have a friendship with that is toxic to you…that’s not God’s best for you. He will bring someone else along that can be the friend they need. Don’t compromise your health (spiritually, mentally, emotionally or physically) by trying to be friends with everyone. There are such things as leeches and you don’t have to always submit to their shenanigans.
For more practical help on Barnabas-type relationships, check out this book by Lisa Jo Baker, Never Unfriended; Befriend by Scott Sauls; and/or Love Does and Everybody Always by Bob Goff.
Part 2- The Pauls in Life
Coaches. Mentors. I like to call them “Pauls”…those who are blazing the path ahead of us in life.
One of the most powerful relationships on the trajectory of your life is that of a mentor or coach.
Mentorship is a lost concept in our world. Millennials are usually resistant to the idea of needing someone to help them along in life, so we’ve pushed mentors away. Why? Because one of the biggest characteristics of a Millennial and/or Generation Z is this: WE DON’T ADMIT NEED. We think we got it in the bag. Which is hilarious because everyone knows we are lying to ourselves. But we don’t want to admit we need help. We think we know better than the people before us. Let’s get real, friends. Our track record is proving otherwise. We gotta get out of this rut and say what’s true: We are messed up and need coaching. We are designed to need each other. Women need women from generation to generation.
I’ll be honest. In my years of experiencing and teaching the importance of mentorship in Christian groups, Bible studies and women’s events, I usually get the same response from Millennials. “Oh, I want a mentor, I just haven’t found one.” The first dozen times I believed it. But after the twentieth person used that same line, I started doubting the accuracy of the statement. What I found beneath the surface has been the same thing in almost every situation. The gal “wanting” a mentor wasn’t really looking for a mentor. She was looking for an older friend to call a mentor. Someone to pat her on the back, but not get in her grill. Simply put, she didn’t really want someone telling her where she might be wrong or speaking into her life.
Mentors need the freedom to tell you where you’re wrong. It’s not really coaching if they’re only allowed to tell you when you’re right. Coaching involves correction. Correcting your parenting. Changing your thought patterns. Telling you when you’re wrong…because let’s face it, you are wrong at least part of the time. If you’re honest, probably MOST of the time. A mentor can often see this because they watch your life up close and personal.
Vulnerability is key in a mentorship relationship. You gotta get real. Up close. Personal. Your coaches should be able to see you raw and honest because that’s when you can really see where you need help.
Here’s something else to think about mentorship if you’re in leadership… Dr. John Townsend says good leaders NEED someone inputting them. It’s proven science and studied that vulnerability in a leader and having a mentor is the key to going further as a leader. Strong leadership has a direct connection to our willingness to be discipled, coached and mentored by others. (Listen to podcast HERE). I challenge you- study the great men and women of the faith in history. Guaranteed they had multiple people pouring into their lives on a coaching level.
Everyone needs a mentor. YOU, my friend, need a mentor. (Or maybe a few.)
What is a real coach or PAUL? This is someone who is ahead of you in life. They have already been where you are and have moved to the next season. They have made mistakes and victories, and because of those, they can help you navigate the current season you are in. They can help you avoid pitfalls and challenge you to do better and reach for God’s best.
If you are in the middle of toddlers and diapers, you need to look for a mentor that has at least teenagers. Here’s why. It’s not until a mom has ALREADY navigated that entire stage of toddlers and diapers that she can actually tell you what worked and what didn’t. This is why I am not a fan of mommy-blogs. Sorry to crunch on your toes…but mommy blogs are unbiblical. They are one mom with toddlers telling other moms with toddlers how to navigate a season they are still in the middle of. At best, it’s the blind leading the blind. Mentorship is about avoiding pitfalls of life, not falling into them together.
I once had a conversation with a friend who has young children and was struggling with the potty-training stage. He was frustrated with the books and online community out there trying to tell him and his wife how to do it. He told me, “Faith, I don’t want to hear how to do it from someone who is actually doing it right now. I want someone who has ALREADY DONE it. See, if your mom wrote a book on potty training, I would read it! Cause she has already potty trained nine kids. She has a lot of data points to pull from!” For the record, he is a Millennial. So yes, we can get it right sometimes.
I echo my friend’s words. I understand people blogging their journey. I have blogged my singleness journey and probably single people have been blessed by that. But I’m not blogging to mentor them. I’m blogging as a friend and fellow sojourner. Mentors provide challenge and light for the current road you’re on, because they’ve already been there.
Note: I AM NOT SAYING that a mentor has to have been everywhere you are right now. For example, I believe an older woman who never had her own children can mentor someone who does. Scripture is full of examples like this. We’d have to throw out half the New Testament if experience were a requirement for advice. In fact, I’ve heard my mom say multiple times that some of her best parenting advice has come from people who don’t have kids. There is proof that we can glean from those who haven’t lived the exact story we have.
What I am saying is that having someone mentor you who is in the same season of life all around isn’t mentorship. It’s companionship. That’s important (more about that next blog!) but it’s not mentorship. It just won’t be a healthy arrangement. You’ll wind up scratching each other’s backs rather than challenging each other to be who you need to be.
No matter what age you are, you need to be challenged. You need someone who can pour into you. Someone to tell you where you are going wrong. Someone to “get in your grill” and talk straight with you. Paul was a mentor. He took several younger men under his wing, including Timothy, and discipled them. He allowed them to walk alongside him and taught them the ropes of ministry and following Jesus. He had a relationship with them that allowed him to speak truth into them in ways that other people couldn’t. He blazed a path as others followed behind.
Paul said, “Imitate me as I also imitate Christ.” (1 Corinthians 11:1)
From the time I was a teenager, my parents told me regularly to seek out the wise counsel and mentorship of people who would point me to Jesus. They told me that every dad and mom have “holes in their parenting” that God will use other Godly men and women to fill. I can’t tell you how GRATEFUL I am for the mentors and coaches God has put into my life. Right now, I have several mentors- married couples and individuals who regularly speak into my life, give me spiritual homework, pray over me, coach me in leadership and ministry, disciple me in marriage and being a wife and keep me accountable. There have been moments when I have cried at their kitchen tables or over the phone. I have texted them in the middle of the night. They have said hard things to me. And I LOVE them for it. I need their perspective and counsel. It’s never easy to open up and admit we need help…but the more mature we are the more we will realize that we NEED this kind of relationship to stay healthy and continue growing. We need someone close enough to show us our blind spots in life.
From experience I can honestly say that mentorship is the biggest reason I have been able to grow and learn and do the things I’ve done in my life. In various ministry leadership positions, I’ve been able to thrive because of the men and women who kept me accountable, provided wisdom and coached me in my personal life. And yes, they’ve sometimes had to “get in my grill”. They’ve asked me hard questions. They’ve put their fingers on things that needed to change. They’ve wounded me at times so I could be healed and be whole. They’ve also been some of my biggest cheerleaders, encouragers and prayer warriors. I’m indebted to them. I owe who I am today to their kind care and loving counsel.
Does it hurt sometimes? YES! Is it uncomfortable to get that real and raw and close with someone who you know can see through your soul? ABSOLUTELY. But I don’t think you can go far and deep in Jesus if you don’t open yourself up to discipleship.
Take the challenge, friend. Be willing to ask for help. For coaching. For mentorship. You will never be the same again.
Evaluate Your Relationships. Ask yourself- who around you do you want to be like in life one day? Who has older kids that you hope your kids are like one day? Who models the kind of life in business you want to emulate? Who has a walk with Jesus that you want for yourself? Now go and ask them how they got there. Example: “Hey, I notice your adult kids really love Jesus and are great communicators… I have little kids, but I’d love to pick your brain about how you got there. What did you do at this point in your mothering that made the difference NOW?” or “I notice how much you understand the Bible and worship in church… can you show me what your daily time with the Lord is like?” That’s what mentoring is all about. Avoid the potholes, friends! Have courage. Ask for help.
For more practical help on mentorship, check out the links scattered through this post, read Godmothers by Lisa Bevere, or check out this conversation I had with Pastor Tim from Pennsylvania about Millennials and Mentorship.
Like bittersweet chocolate
I was just going through documents on my computer and found this piece of writing from months ago that I never posted. I re-read it and decided that even late, the words still ring true… -Faith
“Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2 (KJV)
For years I wondered as a child what in the world the chocolate chip packages meant by saying “bittersweet”. I remember thinking that seemed like an oxymoron. How could chocolate be bitter AND sweet?
It took me until I was an adult to see how chocolate isn’t the only thing that is bittersweet. Life is like bittersweet chocolate too.
Sometimes we have this thought pattern that our life can only be one or another at any given time. When in fact both can live simultaneously in the same time frame. Our lives can be profoundly good and deeply hard at the same time. I’ve experienced this multiple times in the last several years.
Like bittersweet chocolate.
The times that have been the hardest and most challenging in my life have also been when I’ve learned the most about courage and about Jesus and about compassion. During depression and grief and loss, I’ve seen Jesus show up for me. The days that have been the darkest are the same ones that have opened a door for me to see the face of God in a new and very real way. Good and bad often exist in our lives together.
Like bittersweet chocolate.
Maybe the bitterness in chocolate allows you to enjoy it more. Without the bitterness the chocolate would be too rich to consume. It would be overwhelming. The sweetness is what draws us to eat chocolate again and again. If it wasn’t sweet, we’d have no desire to enjoy it. The sweetness is never overcome by the bitterness. Bitter and sweet, working together for the most enjoyment.
We all have bittersweet moments in life. It might be motherhood… knowing the sweetness of your newborn far outweighs the sleepless nights. Maybe it’s the loss of a parent who struggled with cancer for years. You miss them deeply but you know they are now painless and enjoying perfect health.
Like bittersweet chocolate.
I’m currently standing at one of those bittersweet moments. Let me give you some back story…
In August 2019, weeks before my 31st birthday, Tim Hayes and I started dating. After years of singleness, SURPRISED is an understatement. I was excited and a little scared and totally unprepared for all the amazing ways that God would bless me through this man. He is such a gift to me.
Then on August 22nd, 2020 Tim asked me to be his wife. I knew in the back of my mind this day was coming…but I was happily shocked. We were hiking at a state park where we often go and my sister was with us, toting a camera. That fact seemed relatively normal because she always is taking pictures. I had no idea she had been commissioned to capture “the moment” behind the lens.
I said YES. Naturally!
This is the sweet part. I am getting married! I get to spend the rest of my life with Tim, who loves Jesus and wants to follow Him intentionally. Marriage also means I don’t have to say good bye to my best friend every few weeks for long stretches of time. Long distance relationships are difficult in that regard. 800 miles is a long way. We get to be together and do life and serving JESUS together now instead of from a distance. The sweet part of chocolate.
There is a slightly bitter part too.
I’m moving nearly 800 miles away from everything I’ve ever known.
For 32 years I have always lived at home. Yes, I have traveled over the last few years, but I always come back to the same house where my family lives. While I’ve moved a lot in my life, I have lived in Camden the longest ever…15 whole years. That’s over twice as long as I have lived anywhere else! My community has been a beautiful place to learn and grow and make friends. My roots are deep in this place.
My church is a safe haven for me. They are my people. They are my cheer leaders. They pray for me. They give me a chance to lead and a place to recharge after a long season of ministry.
My family is the bomb. They have championed me, cried with me, laughed with me and pushed me to greater heights. I have been here for the milestones…for birthday celebrations and holidays. I have been here to hold all my brothers’ babies right after they are born and when those same babies decide to take their first steps. My siblings and parents are my safe spot to share my dreams and failures. They also loved Tim before I did. Which is a beautiful gift within itself. They are excited and ready to help launch me into this next season of life, despite the fact that I am moving 12 hours away.
These are the realities that ground me from floating away on the clouds of love and wedding bliss. These are the bitter parts of this chocolate.
Together…this an amazing, scary, beautiful and broken time of my life. This is like bittersweet chocolate.
To be fair, the sweet is definitely outweighing the bitter. Hands down, the sweetness of this season is winning. I think WAY MORE about spending my life with Tim, and would move half way across the world to marry him, if needed. So, the sweet is definitely the main point here. But the bitter is still there. It reminds me that sometimes in life there are both glorious good and hard circumstances. At the same exact time. They work together for our good and His glory. This is why we need to live with open hands…to appreciate both parts of the chocolate.
The sweet reminds us of how Good our Father is.
The bitter reminds us to lean into the Father more.
Together, it’s a bittersweet chocolate like no other. And we keep coming back for more.
“Keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that lay before Him endured a cross and despised the shame and has sat down at the right hand of God’s throne.” Hebrews 12:2 (HCSB)
Part 1- Millennials and Gen Z,
One thing has echoed strongly in my heart over the last months of quarantine and face masks in the strange phenomenon of our current world…
RELATIONSHIPS.
Now, more than ever, I see the importance of my people. My people help give me a reason to get out of bed each morning, push me to dream big despite the odds, and make me laugh when there are a dozen things that make me want to cry. My people encourage me to seek Jesus and challenge me to be the best version of who God has created me to be.
Here’s the thing: we need different types of human friendships.
Several months ago, I was heading into a season where I could feel the choke hold of depression wanting to creep up again. I know depression’s whispers and I wasn’t about to give up without a fight. So, I took out a sticky note and wrote at the top: WHAT MAKES ME HEALTHY? I knew I needed to buckle down and pursue health… spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.
My list was surprisingly small. (I’ll share my actual list in another blog…) At the top where three key things to my health: being mentored, my friends, and ministering to others. This thought has become a thread in my life in the last several months. It made me think of Paul, Barnabas and Timothy.
In the New Testament we see a need for these three certain types of relationships. The more I study the Word, the more I realize that in order to have a fruitful life, I need ALL three relationships in my life, working together for my good and growth. The Paul-coaches. The Barnabas-friends. The Timothy-mentees.
I’ve studied these relationships extensively for years, but never before have I seen the profound importance of these three types of friendships than now. In our world, we need to understand how God has wired us to need these interactions with “our people”.
I have a burden for my generation and the one coming after me: both Millennials (born 1981-1996) and Generation Z (born 1997-2012) to seek wise relationships. For eight years, I’ve worked in fulltime ministry with women of all ages and stages of life…starting with teenagers and now with women from all walks of life and religious backgrounds. One thing is for sure- we aren’t getting the friendship thing right. Out of all the generations, Millennials and Generation Zs are the worst. BY FAR. We are missing the boat. We are trying to redefine what God has designed and “recreate the wheel”, so to speak. We are messed up and trying to fix our brokenness all alone.
Hear me: I’m with you. I am a Millennial. There is a disconnect.
This relational brokenness is woven into our culture like the fiber of our souls. But I am here to tell you: there is an answer. I’ve lived it (in the moments I have chosen to fight for it!) and it is beautiful. Radical. Full and free. It will mean breaking outside our cultural norm and choosing to not settle for less. It will mean being uncomfortable. It will mean being “weird” at times. It is also SO WORTH IT.
If I know one thing about Millennials and Gen Zs, I know this: we can be bold and brave. Let’s choose to do it for something that matters.
The first step is obvious: you have to ADMIT and AGREE that you have an issue in your relationships. You have to acknowledge that there has to be more. You have to be willing to learn. Truth is: Millennials are the most prideful and unteachable people I meet. Sorry to make such a harsh statement, but nine times out of ten, we seem to think we have it in the bag. We don’t need help. We are fine. We don’t need other people. We don’t NEED. That’s pride. Pride is SIN. Let’s be straight forward here…if you want more for your life and your relationships, you’re gonna have to get real and see your NEED for help.
In his book, The Last Arrow, Erwin Raphael McManus writes: “Your greatest strength is not when you can prove that you don’t need anyone; your greatest strength is when you no longer have to prove that you can do it alone.” Let’s get honest so we can grow, friends.
I’m no psychologist and I don’t claim to understand the complexities of relationships, but I have brushed shoulders with dozens of teenagers and hundreds of women from all backgrounds, stages of faith, and life stories. I have made note of the common threads in human interaction and traced the same principles through the pages of Scripture. I want more than the world is offering. I want more than superficial relationships. I am craving something real and tangible and deep.
Good news is, we can have depth in human interactions. We can have healthy, full, strong relationships. The Bible has the answers…both in word and in the friendships we see modeled in the pages there.
I want to invite you on a journey of taking back what our generations have tried to redefine and together, reach for something bigger and better. I want to invite you to open your heart and truly seek truth. It might take an overhaul in our relationships, but I’m willing…how about you?
Over the next few weeks, we’re going to explore each of these three relationships on this blog. We are going to dive into the Word together AND look at how our generations are interacting with other with the backdrop of truth. There will be specific questions to help you pin-point your areas of need and practical suggestions to reach for more and get the ball rolling.
Hear me say this, friend. Although this is may seem harsh at times and straight forward, my heart BLEEDS for my generation and those coming after us. We aren’t living in fullness. We could be SO MUCH MORE if we understand these principles about Godly relationships and the balance between intake, iron-sharpening-iron, and output. We could be world changers for Jesus. I truly believe Millennials and Gen Z cannot tap their full potential without these truths laid out in God’s Word. I don’t know about you, but I want to be all God has made me to be. It takes these three kinds of relationships.
For the record, that depression never did get the better foot-hold several weeks ago…and I can’t take the credit. Jesus used my Pauls, my Barnabases and my Timothys to keep me healthy. I believe these three relationships just may be the missing link to so many of my generation’s hunger pains. God has wired us to need each other and uses us to support and love each other well. HOW we do that is important.
Won’t you join me on this adventure over the next few weeks? We need more than a facelift in our human interactions. We need an overhaul. Who’s with me?
(If you want to join us, make sure you sign up to receive these blogs via email where you can be the first to read them and interact with me. I’d love to hear from you- your questions and feedback are welcome. Shoot me an email!)
It’s Not a Contest
Don’t be threatened by someone else’s talents, gifts, or abilities.
There is a downfall that often plagues people in leadership: other people’s successes. I’ve met plenty of people who are threatened by another person’s success in their same field of work. Pastors can be threatened by another pastor’s church growth. Bible study leaders threatened by some of their students choosing to join a different group. Business owners feeling cheated when another company excels in their same field.
It’s not a contest, friends.
The fact that you’re threatened says a few things about you. 1) you aren’t secure in who God made you to be because you’re basing your success on how you measure up to someone else. 2) you can’t take joy in someone else’s victories…which simply put, means you’re jealous. 3) you’ve mistakenly made this a contest versus a calling.
Sorry if those statements stepped on your toes. Believe me, friend, I’ve looked at myself in the mirror before and said these same things. When my soul turned green because it was someone else’s day in the spotlight. Are you jealous of them? Are you wishing you had their job promotion? Their ministry platform? Or maybe you can’t take joy in a friend’s engagement because you were hoping for a ring and a new name. Green doesn’t suit you, friend. You were made to enjoy YOUR STORY. Your platform (no matter how small). Your current position in your company. Your numbers…even if they are few.
In fact, we can learn from each other. Label it cross-training, if it helps you. Here’s two examples: I have a friend who does Epicure as a small side business like I do. We have some of the same goals but aren’t in the same downline. Translated, our sales don’t benefit each other in any way and we could infringe upon each other’s territory. However, we regularly talk about Epicure, what we are doing that works and what new products we like, etc. We have some of the same friends but don’t feel threatened by each other successes. We know that because we love each other, her success is mine and visa versa. We get to take joy in each other’s wins and cheer each other up when we lose. Good friends do that. We can learn from each other because it’s not a competition.
In prison ministry, I’ve seen this same principle in action. I’ve been in prisons where I cross paths with other volunteers either traveling or from the area. Our programs may be different, but they both teach the Bible and about JESUS and about redemption. I don’t waste any time trying to make it a contest. I ask about them. Their families. Their stories. I asked about their programs. I learn from how they do things. I cheer them on and encourage them. I THANK them for what they do. Cause here’s the honest truth, it’s not a contest. It’s about truth and that makes us teammates in the grand scheme of life.
Truth is found in Jesus. In His House. At His Feet. And at the end of the day you can bolt all the other doors that lead others to Him or you can wave to those going into other doors and hold yours open wide. You can be a door bolter and locker. Or you can be a door holder.
Too many people in the Christian world make the Great Commission a contest of who can bring the most or who has the best ratings or who can have the biggest following. Hear me friends, God doesn’t work on our success scale. He is about faithful servants who leave everything on the field for whatever is in their corner. That goes for you, Mama- with toddlers and school lunches to pack and hearts to teach and soccer practice to drive to. You there, youth group leader with just a handful of kids and wishing your walls were busting at the seams. I’m talking about you. The one teaching 7th grade Sunday school and wondering if they’re even getting it.
Don’t measure your success in numbers. Fruit is what counts. Jesus had a handful of disciples that turned the world upside down. It doesn’t have to be record attendance or flowery words or likes on social media.
What matters is THEY GET TO JESUS.
How dare we run someone else’s ministry down because of our gross jealousy or greedy hearts? How dare we make this about our egos instead of His mission?
It’s not about you. It’s about Jesus.
If my friends in prison need a program I don’t offer but someone else does, I encourage them. I give them freedom to glean from Jesus in various ways. I don’t have it all. I just have Jesus.
I recently was talking with my mom about something I had previously shared with my mentor, but not her. I wondered if it would be hard or hurtful to her that I had went to someone else for help before calling her. Her answer showed tremendous maturity and Biblical wisdom. She said- “Faith, your strongest suit is that you don’t have to run to me for everything. You have other strong voices of truth that you can pull from when you have a need. I’m not threatened by that. I grateful for it.”
It’s not a contest. It’s a calling. A calling to be faithful with what you have in your hands.
We see this truth in Scripture. Check out Mark 9:38-41…
“John said to Him, “Teacher, we saw someone driving out demons in Your name, and we tried to stop him because he wasn’t following us.” “Don’t stop him,” said Jesus, “because there is a no one who will perform a miracle in My name who can soon afterward speak evil of Me. For whoever is not against us is for us. And whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because of My name, since you belong to the Messiah — I assure you: He will never lose his reward.” (HCSB)
We are on the same team. Not opposing forces clashing to get the most players. Not people of the world, watching social media score boards and counting numbers as if they are our identity. We are just door holders. All the same. Pointing to the One Who is worthy of all praise. The One Who gives us Hope and true healing. Just propping open the door we’ve been given and showing people the way to Jesus.
It’s not a contest, friends. It’s a calling. Be faithful with it and let God do the rest.
Faithful Daffodils
It’s day eight of our state’s official quarantine. Truth be told, we’ve really been cooped up longer than that since Dad and Mom halted most our normal activities ten days before that. A self-made quarantine of sorts. What were we thinking?
So here we are…eighteen days into misery and wondering if there’s even a light at the end of the tunnel. Any hope for the future? Is there even an end to this road we’re currently on? Every time we get close to the trail closing…we hear about another extension. Last I heard it could possibly be the end of April.
We aren’t even in April yet. Signal the sad violin playing in the background.
I’m trying hard not to cry my eyeballs out because I’m sick of being in these four walls. Quarantines are horrid things for us extroverted folks. An occasional walk outdoors with my siblings helps…but there are precious few days of that since we have had rainy, overcast days most of the last several weeks.
This is not what I thought my Spring would look like. I always have loved spring. Light rain is always plentiful, but there are also days of sunshine and green things pushing up through the ground. The smell of the earth…the one moment that I crave planting a huge garden. (I usually come to my senses remembering that need for weeding that goes along with that thought and then scale it down a bit). Puffy white clouds in the blue sky and little mud puddles that draw every little boy for miles with an internal magnet of sorts. Rain coats. Mud boots. Umbrellas. Daffodils.
My mind is racing until I think of daffodils. Then my heart slows down a little. Breathes deep. One word blazes across my brain: Faithfulness.
Several years ago, while I walking through some tough times emotionally and trying to navigate adult life in the awkward way we are prone to do… I went to visit family in Ohio. I’m told that I adopt family every chance I get, so the family I went to visit aren’t actual blood relatives. But I know as sure as I’m sitting here typing that they are close as they come. “My big brother” has been there for our family and we’ve been there for him. His family is part of ours and his kiddos call me “Aunt Faith”. They are undoubtedly some of MY PEOPLE.
It was a time in all of our lives where we were seeing our own brokenness and were smart enough to admit we needed some guidance. Soul healing. Hope. I needed to hear that I would make it through the rough patch I was in the middle of and that one day, I would be okay. Some days are like that more than others.
At the end of a week of being Auntie- building forts in the living room with quilts, reading a hundred story books, riding bikes and playing dolls- we sat around the breakfast table the morning I was leaving for home again. I already felt better having gotten to talk through some things with my big brother. Tough as it was to hear, it was truth I needed from someone other than my parents. I had done a lot of praying. Plenty of crying. Lots of Scripture washing over my heart during the week.
As I was leaving, they gave me a gift: a pewter necklace with the engraving of a daffodil on the front and the words “Daffodil. Faith.” on the back. They explained that just like the rose is the symbol for love, the daffodil is the symbol for faith or faithfulness.
Faithfulness.
It was a time in my life that I needed that word. My world was shifting and I felt like all I had known was turning to dust in my hands. I needed faithfulness. I needed to know that one day, if I didn’t “faint and grow weary in well doing” that the fruit of the hard days and sleepless nights would come. There would be a reward at the end of this long, unknown, uncertain path. If. I. Could. Just. Hold. On.
Faithfulness.
Daffodils are like that. Despite the cold harsh winters, they show up as if on que every spring. Their presence reminds us that life comes after death. That joy comes after sadness. That color comes after the dreary, drab rain. That there are seasons and we must patiently wait for the vale to lift so we can see the sunlight again. Daffodils remind us that God is our steady and sure anchor in an ocean of improbability and doubt.
That necklace means even more to me today than it did nearly six years ago when I first put it on. The truth is…there were a lot of days that I put it on in the morning to remind myself. To remind myself that like the daffodil pushing through the soil like it does every year, God’s promises are trustworthy. We can’t always see them. We can’t always feel them. But we can always count on them. For just when we begin to wonder if spring has forgotten to grace us… the daffodil will emerge. Like clockwork. Predictable. Trustworthy. Faithful.
On day eight of our quarantine (or 18, if you’re like me!) I’m thinking of the daffodil and I’m grateful. I’m glad that God gave us visual reminders that He can be trusted. That He is faithful when the rest of the world crumbles and is uncertain and changes its mind. When all you know is broken promises. When the only reality is how bad we need toilet paper or our unemployment check. When we want to curl up and sleep through this season like it’s a bad dream. When we worry about stuff we can’t wrap our minds around and hope that somehow in all the mayhem we will find normal again.
In all that craziness we can know that there is One Who will always be the same. JESUS. Trustworthy. Dependable. Persistent against all odds. Pursuing us. Loving us. WITH US in the middle of our messes. Faithful.
As we face these moments of uncertainty…I think of the daffodils and the faithful God who made them. He’s got this.
Practice His Presence
As many of you know, each year for the past seven years, God has stamped a theme for the next twelve months on my heart. Sometimes it has been more fun than others. Every year has challenged me to grow in new ways and shed unneeded baggage while running this race called life.
2014: Do Hard Things
2015: Reflect the Son
2016: God Writes Your Story
2017: Be Brave
2018: Come to His Table
2019: Be A Door Holder
At the dawn of this year, God made it obvious that this new theme was going to rock my style. Majorly.
Theme 2020: “Practice His Presence”.
God kept pressing these words on my heart. Even then…months ago while the letters began to be etched on my heart and mind…I had no idea what that would mean.
As often happens, every Scripture with the word PRESENCE jumped off the page and launched into my soul. In particular, Psalm 16:11, “You reveal the path of life to me; in Your presence is abundant joy; in Your right hand are eternal pleasures.”
It was like God speaking directly to me with His eyes staring straight into mine. I kept thinking about REST and BEING with Jesus and the ones I love versus always running around trying to earn love and acceptance. I knew one thing for sure: if I didn’t want to burn out, I desperately needed soul rest.
Another thing I’ve been doing since 2016 at the end of each year and into the beginning of a new one is reprioritize and pray through my life/responsibilities/goals. It helps me inventory what I am responsible for and what aren’t needful. I say no to a lot of things. I say yes to a few things. I try to simplify and declutter so I can focus on what really matters. This is a painful process of letting go and allowing God to put His finger on things that aren’t BEST for me. I’ve learned that good is often the enemy of the best. As I do regularly, I asked my parents and mentors to speak into areas that were broken and needed healed. Their perspectives are windows into my life that sometimes I can’t see and need clarity on. I’m grateful for their direction and reproof.
There are ways God immediately did surgery on my heart to remove things that didn’t need to be there in order to Practice His Presence. I fasted from certain things for a period of time before reevaluating and learning what holds (good or bad) those things had on my attention. This is still a process I’m in.
All that to say…I’m being renewed in 2020. Learning what Practicing His Presence means. Learning about soul rest so I can be stronger to serve Jesus. Seeing areas of my life that need to be sanctified and healed. I’d be a liar if I didn’t tell you that it hurts like crazy. Lots of tears. White-knuckle gripping the things I want to keep, but aren’t best for me. Surrendering isn’t easy because it requires death to self.
Practice His Presence.
PRACTICE.
Practice is something that we do because we are learning. Growing into. Never achieving fully, but hopefully becoming better and more experienced in. It’s a day-in-day-out activity that we have to intentionally schedule in, prioritize and place an importance on. If we never practice, we will never be able to actually make it a part of our character. Repetition is a way of weaving something into the fibers of who we are. Habit can be equally good as it is bad…depending on what you’re practicing.
Isaiah 30:15 says, “For the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, has said: ‘You will be delivered by returning and resting; your strength will lie in quiet confidence, but you are not willing.’” There have been a thousand times when I have thought that my victory was in me DOING. Achieving. Running around ragged…as if it were a spiritual gift or made me a better Christian. That somehow spending every last ounce of my energy, and perhaps even more than I actually had to give, would get me a place of position in God’s better graces. That when I crashed after weeks of expending every drop of sweat and blood in ministry, it was a good sign.
I’ve been a person to run myself ragged more times than I care to admit. Just a year ago I crashed in the middle of a ministry trip. Majorly. Not enough sleep and soul rest led me to the brink of burn out. I got up one day in the middle of a prison ministry week and couldn’t keep my eyes open for devotions. I literally stood up doing my Scripture time and dozed off standing up. My tank was bone-dry. It was pathetic at best. I had made the serving of Jesus more important than the being with Him. Rest would be there when I could get around to it! I had drove myself to a dangerous place physically. Unsafe, really. My team rallied around me in prayer and stepped up to lead. I went back to my bunk and slept for a solid seven more hours! That sealed the deal in my mind. I had to prioritize rest for the health of my body and soul…so I could serve well in a spiritual capacity.
There is nothing spiritual about draining your tank so low that your own relationship with Jesus suffers and your body can’t even stand up after a short night’s sleep. It actually show us that we think we are indivisible. Even Jesus Himself prioritized getting alone with His Father and refilling spiritually. Rest is key to our spiritual, soul, and body health. As this Scripture reminds us: “You will be delivered by returning and resting; your strength will lie in quiet confidence, but you are not willing.” Are we willing to practice resting in Jesus? Prioritizing our soul health so we can serve Jesus well? This is the essence of why God created the Sabbath.
HIS.
Being like Jesus isn’t easy. In fact, it’s arguably the hardest thing to do. After all, He’s perfect and I am totally not. Psalm 73:28, “But as for me, God’s presence is my good. I have made the Lord God my refuge, so I can tell about all You do.” His Presence is peace. Our Identity. Our hope. Everything we need is in His Presence. Too often, I have gathered feelings about myself from the voices around me…whether they were good or bad determined how I felt about myself. The mirror had more of a voice than my Creator. I’ve let people who barely know me speak things into me that I took and gave them more weight than the One who made me.
His Voice has to be the loudest. The most valued. The biggest weight. That part is up to me. I choose who I listen to and how much I allow their voice to carry weight. It has to be HIM. HIS VOICE. HIS TRUTH.
PRESENCE.
This is the essence of being. Our loved ones would rather us BE WITH US than for us to give them all manner of other things and not ourselves. God wants our time too. He wants us to BE with Him. As He is with us. God with us= Emmanuel.
Acts 4:13 says, “When they observed the boldness of Peter and John and realized that they were uneducated and untrained men, they were amazed and recognized that they had been with Jesus.” It wasn’t what they were wearing or how they were carrying themselves or what was in their bank account. It wasn’t their job positions or educations. It was this one thing that set them apart: they had been with JESUS.
When is the last time I have BEEN WITH Jesus? Presence. When have I last sat with Him, given Him all my attention, and listened quietly? More often I am reading Scripture because I know it’s good for me and then rushing off on the next to-do list project.
As I’ve read about Jesus through the Gospels, I notice one major thing: He practiced BEING WITH people way more than I do. I like doing stuff for people. I like talking with people. I’m an extrovert who loves people.
But what if my doing and talking didn’t actually carry as much meaning as my BEING WITH those I love? That’s a disappointing truth…since I’m not very good at the BEING WITH part.
I’ve noticed that even my young nieces and nephews prefer my presence over my stuff. I have several nephews that want to sit next to me and just hold my hand. When there are more than two at a time, this presents a problem…but it is a visual reminder of what Presence really means. They want to be with me.
I can’t help but think that Jesus wants us to be this way too. He wants us to regularly crawl up next to Him, lean against His arm and hold His hand. When we do this, we can actually hear the rhythm of His heart beat and hear His Voice clearly. We can feel the security of being with Him. In His Presence is everything we need.
Practice His Presence.
For the rest of this year, I’m going to be learning what this actually means.
Burning My Plow
I had been asking for a sign. For God to speak to me about the future and His purposes in ministry. Truth be told, I know I can’t do both full-time PCM (Polished Cornerstones Ministry) and full-time Prison ministry. But who wants to say no to either one? Both are good. Both are making a difference. Both are valuable and needed in our world.
I’d been praying. I’d been asking for counsel. I’d been wondering what God wanted for me.
March 24th, 2019, He spoke. I was sitting in a church pew hours before I would leave town for another prison trip and listening to one of my favorite preachers talk about Job and Elijah and Elisha and yoke of oxen. I know, you’re wondering how all that connects. Believe me, it does and it is beautiful.
I was sitting there thinking about the picture of being yoked with Jesus and allowing Him to lead. Following Him wherever and being content to pull a load and tackle the world knowing that He will do the hard work and I just need to submit and follow in joyful obedience.
Then he drops the bomb. He starts talking about how we need to be willing to abandon our former lives to reach for what God has for us in the future. That’s what Elisha did. He was a skilled yoked-oxen-farmer and when he was called to follow Elijah and do the work of God, he burned his yoke, plow and oxen. That way he wouldn’t have the opportunity to come back to his old life. He burned his bridge back and chose to run after a life that looked completely different than anything he had ever known.
I felt it in my spirit. I heard His voice. Jesus was calling me out.
I’ve heard Him and felt His work in my heart before, so I knew this was Him. The tears were streaming down my face at that point. I saw my past… beautiful, good work that I loved, but that was fading. Would I be willing to turn and start something different? Would I be willing to burn my plow and oxen and run towards a new life?
It all boiled down to surrender. I knew He was asking me to offer Him what was in my hands… my dreams, my family, my church, my Community, my Church, my friends- for something that He had for me. He said it would be better for me. Not easier. Not more comfortable. Better.
This much I knew: in order to grab ahold of the new (unknown) life ahead, I had to let go of the current world in my hands. That hurts. It stinks. And for a chronicly fearful gal, it’s scary.
But for all the scariness that stood in front of me that night, I knew this: it scared me more to miss the opportunity of adventuring with Jesus. So, I said yes. I knew, He meant business. And so did I.
Fast forward five months and today I sat with part of my PCM staff and told them I was resigning my position. They didn’t even wince. They saw it coming and they were willing too. They smiled and said the things I most needed to hear… “You can do this, Faith.” “Everything is gonna be okay.” “It was a beautiful season, but we knew it wasn’t forever.” One of them told me, “I think the last five years was a warm up for this next chapter of your life.” I choked back the tears…because these women were doing what they do best… cheering me on as I run at the heels of Jesus.
Life is never as we assume it will be. It’s unpredictable. It’s ever-changing.
Jesus is the only steady in my craziness. He is beautiful. He is faithful. He is Someone I can count on when the rest of the world seems shaky and unpredictable. And even though the unknown scares my socks off, I wouldn’t want to be adventurous with Anyone Else. He’s got the map. He’s got the power. He knows what He’s doing.
I can burn my plow for Someone like that. Jesus is worth it.
The Power of ONE
“Can you pray for me?” The question caught me off guard. We were in the hallway of the education building where young inmates were coming in for their afternoon classes. YOs are generally not very friendly. Especially with someone they don’t know. The trust factor is a real thing.
First, let me back up.
We had scheduled a special class for YOs (Youthful Offenders) in this particular prison. It’s always our hardest crowd to minister to… but so worth it! The zeal that young people have when they are set on fire for Jesus is worth the difficulty in getting to that point. They are regular world-changers, if we are willing to view them as such. For this reason, we press on.
We had a four-day class in one of the education buildings. We had our own room for those four days. Every morning we would come in and set up our equipment… DVD player, laptop, pencil sharpener and pencils, screen, projector, and workbooks. Then we would wait.
Little did we know what we were getting into that week. When Susannah and I started that first day, we barely knew each other. A few short conversations in person at various events and a couple phone calls leading up to the week. We were just acquaintances, really. That was about to change. We have a saying on my women’s prison team- “Come as friends, leave as sisters.” That’s the way it goes. Intense ministry can make or break you.
For our first two days no one showed up.
That’s never happened to me. There was literally not a soul that came those first two days. We were stuck in a room a thousand miles from home and not a person to show for the time and energy we had prepared. It was discouraging if I stopped and thought about it too long. But Susannah and I were determined to not go there with our minds. Instead, we chose to stake our claim on the hearts of these girls.
We prayed like mad women for two days.
There in that little classroom, we prayed for hours. Once in a while a passer-by would stick their head in our room and ask where our students were. “They’re coming,” we’d say, or “we don’t have any yet.” There were a lot of strange looks from people…especially from the other teachers in the building. One teacher kept telling us- “You came all this way and don’t have any students? Go to the beach or something! I feel so bad…you’re sitting here and you have no one. Don’t waste your time. Go enjoy yourself.” We smiled. He couldn’t see what we could see.
Like Elisha when he saw what his servant didn’t see in 2 Kings 6…Elisha saw the Army of the Lord and his servant couldn’t see, so he was afraid. We could sit and wait knowing that God could still make something beautiful out of our days of sitting and prayer. What if our waiting was for someone else? What if our waiting was showing that one teacher that we were willing to wait for ONE student? What if our patience was proving to him that there is a God in heaven who waits for the one? Even for ONE. What if our waiting showed the love of the Father for one child? Individually. Personally.
By the end of our first day, that room was like our home. We stood at the doorway during break times and talked to the ladies coming by. We had women come in and sit on the front row, telling us their stories and asking for prayer. One at a time, we ministered to them in whatever ways we could. It started feeling like our living room where the broken were coming. I started to wonder if this would be our week.
Over and over I heard the words of Revelation 3:8- “I know your works. Because you have limited strength, have kept My word, and have not denied My name, look, I have placed before you and open door that no one is able to close.” (HCSB) I kept feeling like God was setting the stage for something bigger than we could even imagine.
It’s not in numbers friends. Jesus turned the world upside-down with twelve men. I am willing to bet that He can do the same with a few gals from prison. Or He could do it with ONE.
After two days of praying and small talk with those visiting “our house”, we made a bold request and ASKED to track down some students. Maybe sometimes God tells us there is an open door… then He asks us to kick it down. It’s unlocked, but maybe it’s stuck. The authorities said we could stand near the education classes and talk to the girls coming in after lunch. We were all about it.
When the YOs started pouring in the doors, my friend Susannah and I split up and started trying to make conversation with the girls as they walked by. I stood there in a lull, looking for a pair of eyeballs to meet mine, ready to jump out with a smile and howdy-do. I kept whispering under my breath, “Jesus, just give me ONE.” But no one was making eye contact with me.
Then I heard a voice behind me. “Can you pray for me?”
It startled me. A girl who I had seen walk by me had whirled around and stood directly next to me. She had her head down and she was twiddling her hat in her hands. She seemed nervous. I reached for her hands and although she gave them to me, she kept her head down. “Absolutely! What do you want me to pray for?”
Her answer cut through me.
“I want God’s favor on my life. I need help. I need answers.” This was my one. I had come a thousand miles for THIS GIRL.
Fast forward two more days and we were wrapping up our class with SIX GIRLS, ages 17-23. Y’all, that’s a door that we couldn’t have went through if it wasn’t for Jesus.
I had my one and Susannah had her one and each of them had brought friends. We ended the class with six girls who were ready to face the compound with a new zeal and hunger for Jesus. One 17-year-old decided to follow Jesus with her life. Maybe she was our ONE too.
Yes, we cried tears of joy over these girls. But can I tell you what made me cry every single time those last two days?
When that certain teacher would come by and peak in the window and see us teaching the class. Every time he came by and stood in the window or whenever some other teacher or inmate who knew us from the first two days came by and peaking their heads in the door, their responses made me tear up. They knew of the waiting. They knew about the praying. They knew that we had staked out in an empty room waiting for ONE. And then they saw filled chairs and workbooks being wrote in and interactions between us and the YOs and they knew- Jesus is real. I saw a dozen or more inmates and teachers stand in that window over those two days and clap. Quiet standing ovations to the God who believes in waiting for ONE. They would laugh and high-five us. They would give our girls thumbs up.
I’ve never seen six girls so applauded by the rest of the prison compound as these gals were. They weren’t just waited for by us anymore…there was a host of men and women that were rooting for those chairs to be filled. Now they were seeing the answer of their waiting and hoping. Maybe true faith is slightly contagious.
We weren’t standing our ground for ourselves. We were willing to wait because we believed that the Jesus we serve is more powerful than the one who had chained these in prison. Because ONE can change the world. Perhaps the domino affect starts here in the waiting.
Do you have ONE you’re waiting for? Don’t give up, friend.
There is power in one. The ONE named Jesus and He says ONE is worth the wait.
FREE Bible Studies!
Hey friends,
Wanted you to know that my website has been updated with some free resources on studying the Bible…Three video series that encourage studying the Word and living for Jesus.
The Brave and Courageous Living series is three stories of women from different ages and stages of life who have learned what it means to walk in courage and trust in the Lord.
The Secrets to Home Bible Study series is a practical four-part progression of how to lead your own Bible study with other people. It’s fun, hands on, and you can even download the free study guide to follow along and write down your thoughts.
The 16-Day Challenge is a 16 days of discovering your identity in Christ through the pages of Scripture. The free downloadable study guide will help you process through questions and stories. Originally designed for teen girls, this study has since been taken by women (and even a few guys!) across the United States.
If you’re looking for a summer series to encourage your walk with Jesus, this might be the thing!
Have a blessed summer,
Faith Walker
Do you take ex-felons?
Do you even take ex-felons?”
I was sitting cross-legged on the floor and the question came from a teenage girl on a chair in front of me. She was just a kid. Still had a baby-face and a childish look about her. Her voice seemed halting. Almost scared of the answer I’d give her.
It was one of my first experiences with Youthful Offenders and juveniles behind bars and they had been so open and trusting of us. We talked around the world about the Bible, Christian living, redemption and grace. They were endeared to our hearts at the end of those four days.
Somehow, they seemed like frightened little children…asking for acceptance and guidance and purpose. They wanted something different. They wanted something real. The Jesus they were encountering was different than they originally thought. It seemed to surprise them. Almost as much as this gal’s question surprised me.
Maybe they thought Jesus wanted cute, put-together girls with pat-answers and perfect stories. Maybe they thought their wounds would scare Him away.
It had been my privilege to sit with these precious girls and open the Word with them. To dispel the myths of Christianity one and a time. To present the real TRUTH and healing their hearts longed for. For once in prison, it felt like we were all in my living room, curled up talking about life like I do with the teenagers who visit me at home.
But their hunger was different. It was more intense. More palpable.
After a few days of “getting into their world” I sat with this 17-year-old who had a prison sentence hanging over her head and listened to her story. She had plans when she got out…plans that she hoped could involve traveling with me and presenting truth across the United States. I smiled at her zeal.
Then I saw a cloud come across her face. She looked deep into my eyes and asked in a timid voice… “But, do you even take ex-felons?”
The question made me choke up inside. She didn’t know. She couldn’t believe that she would be worthy of someone else’s trust or could minister to others with a checkered past.
I looked at her square in the face and smiled. Before I could answer, her friend sitting next to her nudged her. “You don’t know? Of course she takes ex-felons! Why do you think she does this?!”
The gal asking me looked back at me with a curious gaze. “Yes, I take ex-felons. In my line of work, being a felon doesn’t discredit you, it qualifies you.” She smiled with a new-found freedom. “Tell you what, keep in touch and when you get out, we will talk.”
“But friend, you need to know…the most important thing is that JESUS takes ex-felons. He died to make your past just a stepping stone…not a label that you have to wear for eternity. He loves ex-felons.”
She walked away with a pep in her step.
I wanted to say more. I wanted to hug her firm and cup her scared, little face in my hands and assure her that her story was redeemable. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful. To hold her by the shoulders and look square in her eyes and say, “Yes, Jesus takes ex-felons.”
At what point did we start making people believe that their past was unworthy of love or their stories unredeemable? Everywhere I look in Scripture, I see broken lives that Jesus chose ON PURPOSE for His glory. In fact, He rarely picked the virtuous for His plans. More often than not, He went to the slums and picked the most unlikely candidate to fulfill His purposes.
Maybe we should start believing that Jesus takes the messed up and gives them 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th chances. We should start living like we are Jesus to a broken world, looking for a redo on their bad choices.
Jesus takes ex-felons, y’all. We should too.
Captive Miracles
Before I left for Alaska, I was asking God for a word to share with the women I was going to meet there. I was drawn to 2 Kings 5 reading about Naaman and his skin disease.
We have all heard the story. Many of us have also seen it in flannel graph demonstration. Naaman was a mighty man and victorious soldier. His one major flaw is leprosy. This horrible disease eventually disfigures and disables its victims, and he couldn’t do anything about it. It was incurable. He knew his fate and he needed a miracle.
There’s a weird thing that happens when I read most Bible passages. I look at a story in its totality, which is normal, but makes us miss out on the small details. I read the story in totality once. Then twice. I felt God’s Spirit telling me to read it again…a third time.
This time something jumped off the page. “Now the Syrians on one of their raids had carried off a little girl from the land of Israel, and she worked in the service of Naaman’s wife. She said to her mistress, ‘Would that my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.’ So Naaman went in and told his lord, “Thus and so spoke the girl from the land of Israel.’” (Verses 2-4) ESV
I had read these verses many times. We know at the end of the story, Naaman is healed from his leprosy. However, I suddenly realized that Naaman was healed because years before a little girl was captured from her home land and brought to serve in his house. A slave girl who knew the God of Israel. This young captive girl knew where to find healing…and she wasn’t afraid to share that healing with others.
I sat back in my chair, a little overwhelmed at this concept.
Where would Naaman be without this little slave girl? Or what if she wouldn’t have had the boldness to give the right information to her master about healing? What if she had been mean and not wanted him to be healed? And strangely enough…what if she had never been captured?
How often I’m guilty of looking at certain moments in my life as all bad…when down the road God might be orchestrating someone else’s miracle.
What if the broken places of your story are being woven in a way that will bring someone else to Jesus and the place that real healing can be found?
That can change your perspective a little bit. Or a lot.
So here is this Israeli slave girl who says twenty short words that completely alter the course of Naaman’s life and end up gracing the pages of Scripture for generations to come: “If only my master were with the prophet who is in Samaria, he would cure him of his skin disease.” It almost seems like a side comment. Like she was throwing it out there…just in case they were interested in the God of Israel and the prophet that knew Him.
Naaman acts on what he hears. Apparently, this captive girl didn’t have a reputation of crying wolf, because he goes right to the king to get this healing process started. He believed her word THAT MUCH.
One man, free on the outside but sick enough to need a miracle for healing.
One girl, in chains and yet free enough inside to point to the Healer.
This is the essence of sharing the Gospel. We don’t have to have all the answers, we just need to know where to go to get them.
At the end of our first week in Alaska, we had a room full of female inmates who were graduating from our four-day Bible program and tearfully saying goodbye. This is the message I left with them.
I could see the tears in their eyes. They knew the God of Israel. They were free inside. Free enough to point to the Healer.
Captive Miracles.
Jesus is My Home
There’s something that happens when you travel extensively. Or at least it’s happened to me. And I’m not talking about being able to sleep in all manner of places and talk to sort of people and navigate multiple airports…although those things are true too. I’m actually talking about knowing where you belong.
Where is home, and what determines that it is YOUR PLACE?
It can be challenging to adjust to each new place, new surroundings, and people. I’ve literally woke up in the middle of the night before and had to lay there for a few minutes to realize where I am. Traveling a lot (even in ministry) can make you a little disoriented at night.
Each trip God teaches me big things…which usually all boil down to trusting Him. Last trip, I learned about blooming wherever I am. Don’t let that statement fool you- I haven’t arrived. I am STILL LEARNING how to bloom wherever I am in the moment. Let me explain my inner challenge to you.
You see, I’m a root digger. I love digging my roots deep into the soil of the place I live. My family has moved a lot in my life, and I’ve learned to settle rather quickly in a new environment. However, we are currently living in a home that we’ve been in for twelve years. Translated: we have never lived anywhere longer. So, the root system I have here is pretty serious business.
Then in September 2017, God sent me on an adventure. I was terrified. I was 28 years old and I had never been away from my family for more than six days. Yep, you heard that right… six days. So, I left on an adventure with a friend for 23 days, a thousand miles away from home. We were going to prison for the first time to minister to women we had never met and half of the people we would be working with I had never seen before. I had never been to Florida, and that’s where I was going. It was an all-around adventure.
It was supposed to be a one-time deal, but something happened when I was there. Something tugged on my heart. I cried buckets standing in front of those precious, incarcerated women. In the most broken time of my life, they let me into their weakest moments and I began to heal. They understood my pain and we connected at heart level. After our second day behind bars, I crawled into bed and whispered to the Lord, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.” I meant it. Through tears, I could feel Him doing something strange and wonderful inside of me.
Fast forward 19 months and I’m sitting here staring at a calendar for 2019 where I’m gone more nights than I’m home. Prison does weird things to you. Or maybe it’s the Jesus part.
Anyway, I’ve been on this prison adventure with Jesus for a while now and He keeps stretching me and calling me to trust regardless of how I feel. It’s amazing and terrifying in the same time. It’s beautiful and broken. I’ve seen things in myself that make me squirm (I don’t always have the best attitude when I’m under pressure!) and seen Him call out strength in me that I didn’t know I had (I didn’t…it was His and He let me borrow it).
Still, there’s this “bloom where you are” business.
I’d like to think I’m fairly adaptable, but sometimes it seems like a process for me to acclimate to new surroundings. I like routine. I like predictability. But when you’re on the road, there’s very little that’s certain. Like VERY LITTLE.
Last trip was my longest ever: 47 nights away from home. That’s nearly seven weeks on the road. I moved eight times. This is what I mean by unpredictably. Just when you feel comfortable with your surroundings, it is time to move. Let’s be honest…it’s hard to dig down roots when you’re being replanted every few days or weeks.
One day, at the height of my frustration I started praying about my bad attitude and vented some real emotions about where I was standing. I’m grateful God isn’t offended by my honest emotional outbursts. I told Him that it was hard for me to be here, there and everywhere. I told Him I felt like I was failing at living in the moment and living out of a suitcase. I told Him I wanted to do better, but I had no idea how. “Bloom where you are” loomed over my head and I just didn’t know the practical ways to actually LIVE that way.
Then in a moment, I felt His whisper- “I. Am. Your. Home.”
That’s it. He is my home, and He is always with me…therefore wherever I am, it can be home. I know this doesn’t seem like a huge revelation, but to me it felt like a major life shift.
Whenever I’m on a long trip (and my friends can verify this) I have a countdown of how many days until I get back home. I talk about it a lot. For my nieces and nephews, we call it “how many sleeps until Aunt Faith comes home”. They can wrap their mind around that…and I can too! I like my home. I miss my family when I’m away. I feel justified to count down the days until I return to my people and the place where I belong.
This dramatic shift of heart started alerting me to how much I talked about the countdown. How much I made the people I spent time with while I was away (co-workers, friends, neighbors) feel like I didn’t want to be there. Like they were less important because I really wished I was home.
It kinda made me feel I had been missing the boat. I was missing the TODAYS because I was wishing for TOMORROW when I could be home with my family. I’m not minimizing my love for family…I’m grateful for a gravitational pull to home base. But to overlook the people I’m currently with is slighting and perhaps a little rude. They are people too. People who God has called me to love in the moment.
March was the month I memorized Psalm 84:3, “Even a sparrow finds a home, and a swallow, a nest for herself where she places her young—near Your altars, Lord of Hosts, my King and my God.” (HCSB) When I started memorizing this verse, it completely wrecked my view of home.
The swallow FINDS A HOME. What if that means I’m supposed to hold all things lightly? Find the home in every place I stay? Find my family in the faces of the people I’m with right now? Love fully and embrace each season…even if it’s sleeping on fold out beds or floor pallets and traveling thousands of miles to be Jesus to people I’ve never met and may never see again? Maybe this is what it means to be a stranger and pilgrim on earth.
I think of Jeremiah 29:4-7, “This is what the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, says to all the exiles I deported from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them. Plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters. Take wives for your sons and give your daughters to men in marriage so that they may bear sons and daughters. Multiply there, do not decrease. Seek the welfare of the city I have deported you to. Pray to the Lord on it’s behalf, for when it has prosperity, you will prosper.” (HCSB)
What if this season of flying all over the place and learning to be comfortable in the car and figuring out how to sleep on a couch (and not wake up like you slept on a couch…) what if all of this is pointing to One Who wants all of me? He wants me to find my true home in Him, and only Him. Perhaps all these trivial things are just guideposts pointing to the real place I belong. The authentic Home I’ve been craving.
Jesus is where my home is. Home is where Jesus is.
No matter where I am, I can belong. I can be at home. Fully at rest. I can still miss my family. I can still love being at home. But it doesn’t have to define me as out-of-place when I’m not there. Heaven is my forever Home with Jesus…perhaps finding my belonging in Him now is part of the plan.
As I write this, I’m sitting in a kitchen in Alaska, four thousand miles away from my house. I belong here not because this is the place I’m living permanently but because I take my Home with me. His name is Jesus.
Jesus is My Home.
Dear Teen Girl
Dear Teen Girl,
I’m writing this letter to you because I need you to know something…I know you get a bad rap for your age. Maybe some of it is legit (after all, you are a young and imperfect human being like the rest of us), but I believe you are more. You are beautifully created for TODAY and for this time in history. I’m young enough to know that the problems you face are real, and old enough to know you will make it.
No really, you will. I know it seems like no one in the world could ever make it out of these years alive, but you can. You will. (The God that made you has also parted the Red Sea and healed the sick, so helping you through the teen years is very doable for Him.) So, pretend I’m standing next to you, me-a twenty-something and you-a teen…and drink it in. What I’m about to say comes right from my heart. I want you to listen close:
I believe in your generation of young women.
I see in you an amazing hunger for truth that the world isn’t satisfying. The girls of your generation are looking for answers…and you are smart enough to know that this world doesn’t have what it takes. I see in you a desire to know Jesus and discover if He is real for yourselves. I see in your generation a fire to be more than what is expected. To go beyond what is accepted and stand up in a culture that expects so little of teens. I see a passion for being different and swimming against the tide. I see you girls rebelling against culture and saying YES to Jesus in ways that knock my socks off. I know many in your generation believe that your teen years can be some of your best years, some of your most fruitful years. I believe in your generation, but more importantly, I believe in you.
Did you hear that?
I believe in YOU.
You may think the whole world is against you.
It is.
You may think that the entire culture is nipping at your heels waiting for you to fail.
It is.
You may even feel the pressure of your Christian community expecting you to waste your life and make some major mistakes in the next few years.
For the most part, they probably are. It’s just human.
But for all the negative pushing against you, I believe you can be different. I also believe that you WANT to be. Deep down in the recesses of your heart, you desire more than anything to stand up and stand out. You want to do something big with your life and to find out what really matters. You want to know what you believe in and to stop piggy-backing on someone else’s faith. You want to know Jesus personally. To KNOW He is real for yourself.
I believe in you.
I have seen what happens when a girl catches fire for Jesus. I have seen the fire in her eyes as she shares truth unashamed. I have seen the power she possesses to change and challenge an entire generation. I have stood in awe, again and again to watch the path of one ordinary girl…One ordinary girl who chooses to give her 100% to Someone powerful and far bigger than herself.
I believe YOU are that girl.
You see, I believe you are just like Esther. You are come to our generation, to our time in history “for such a time as this”. You were born for this! You are a princess sent here in mission for your Heavenly Father, capable of insurmountable odds and mind-blowing things because of Him. I believe you are crazy-loved and wonderfully perfect for this mission and I believe in you. Esther wasn’t a hero because she was extraordinary…she was a hero because she made some amazing choices in the moments she found herself in. She just did the next right thing and left the results to God. And I believe Esther’s God (Yahweh) in you, could do the same heroic deeds. (Esther 4)
I believe you are like Jeremiah…a young person feeling ill-equipped and yet called to be the voice of God to His people. (Jeremiah 1) You are equipped by the very Hand of God as He puts words in your mouth and wisdom in your heart for the journey ahead.
I believe you are like Timothy…bearing the weight of an incredible spiritual harvest, and yet despised because of your age (1 Timothy 4:12). That’s why I’m writing this letter…because I see that you are capable of showing a dying world the healing power of Jesus. You are about His business!
I believe in you. I love your heart, your craving for Jesus and your zeal for truth. I love your energy…I could use it some days. I love how your eyes light up when you connect with the Word or understand something new from Scripture. I appreciate your honesty.
I believe you are beautiful, chosen, unique, and created for this moment. I believe you are forgiven, bought, secure, and sealed. I believe you are cherished, valued, loved, and adopted into royalty. I believe you are enough.
Can I just tell you, I believe in you for more than the shade of your tan or the silkiness of your hair. You are more than what you look like. I believe in you because I know your Creator…and He doesn’t make anything less than masterpieces. You’re one of them. Every time I see you I smile because I know He has an amazing plan for you. I’m sitting on the edge of my seat…wondering, what will He do next with you?
Why do I talk to teens, write to teens and speak to teen girls like you? Simply put, I want a front row seat for the adventure God has you on.
I believe in YOU. I believe in your Jesus. Put a daughter on a mission for her ALL-Powerful Father, and I believe we have… a winner! That’s why I believe in you!
Keep it up little sis, I’m cheering you on!
Love from, An Older Sister
(Originally published on April 16, 2016 on the Polished Cornerstones blog.)
Homies
I know her back story and she knows mine. Our spirits connect at a different level…even though we are about as different as could be.
I am young. She is old enough to be my grandma.
I am short. She is tall.
I have light-colored, straight hair. She has dark, curly hair.
I have pale skin. She has chocolately skin.
I visit from the free-world. She wears an inmate tag.
We were born and raised in different countries, so we have different accents.
But inside, we are made of the same things, and we both are in love with the same Jesus. I am learning that this is all that matters.
It was the second day of this particular class and I still hadn’t seen her in the mass of women coming and going. This was unusual since she never missed a class, even if it was her 8th time going through it. After lunch, she came bursting through the door with one of her young friends she was mentoring. I looked up to see her face beaming. She shrieked my name from across the room. She raised both hands in the air to signal how happy she was to see me. She gave me a high-five and held my hand there for a second. “I just love you,” she said. I told her I loved her too. This was our normal greeting.
She started chatting happily to MaryEllen and I about how glad she was to see us and rambled on about life. She wanted to know how we were doing and told us what she was learning.
All the while, the girl next to her stood quietly and watched us. Curious eyes staring. Wondering. It’s a real thing to be invited into the space of others…especially in a prison setting where they size you up with trust issues. I could see it in the way she watched us…she was deciding if she was going to “let us in”.
Finally, my old friend turned to the young lady and introduced us. She waved her hand towards us: “These two girls are our homies. They are locked up WITH US in here.” She smiled at us, ear-to-ear.
I’ve never in my life been introduced to someone like that, and honestly, may never again. But for the moment, it choked me and I could feel the tears rising in my eyes. This was the most beautiful way I had ever been presented to someone.
Ever since starting into prison ministry 18-months ago, my prayer has always been they would see that I’m not just for them, but that I am WITH THEM. My heart is to be a friend to each of them. To listen to their stories. To spread Hope and give Jesus away.
This friend knew we weren’t just for her. We were WITH her.
“These two are our homies.” The words kinda hung in the air.
In case you need to know the exact definition of a homie: “an acquaintance from one’s town or neighborhood, or a member of one’s peer group or gang.” In my words, I call these kind of folks “my people”, the ones you can count on anytime or anywhere to have your back. In prison and on the street they call them: “Homies.” I’m learning this language and on that particular winter day, it had never been more beautiful.
It wasn’t me in this equation…it was THESE WOMEN who invited me into their world. They let me in. They extended their hands and opened their hearts to me…an outsider who they chose to trust with their friendship. That humbled me.
It’s no small thing to be invited into the inner circle. Our world is full of cliques and groups and gangs and clubs…and we as Christians are no different. We have the power to invite people into our corner of this broken and battered world. To hold out our hand and motion for others to come to our table. To invite the outsider into our inner circle. To hold open the door and point to the Jesus we already know and assure them that there’s room for them and they are wanted.
They don’t have to look like you. They don’t have to act just like you. They just need to be a human with a beating heart and BINGO- you have someone who most likely needs a friend. Not a Facebook like. Not a comment on Instagram. Not a retweet on Twitter. They need a person, flawed, real-life, flesh-and-blood friend.
Go. Be. That. Friend.
Invite that person who is COMPLETELY different from you. Sit at the same table with people who aren’t in the same age group and don’t dress like you do and don’t go to the same church as you do.
“Jesus spent His whole life engaging the people most of us have spent our whole lives trying to avoid.” – Bob Goff
Most Christians want to have friends that look, act and sound just like themselves. I don’t know about you, but that’s a boring world. It’s a poor view of Christianity. What’s more, it’s not Biblical. God is our Creator, which means He is creative…which means He likes color and diversity and being different. That’s why no two snowflakes or human beings are alike. He loves variety. He made it that way on purpose.
What if we just starting loving people like Jesus did? What if we were to celebrate our differences and the God who has created the variety in us?
“These two girls are our homies.” Truth is, my friends behind bars took a chance on letting me in their world. I’m not exactly like them and I am a human with a ginormous ability to fail…but they were willing to risk it and open their hearts to me. They invited me to their table. They invited me to their corner of the world. They called me their homie.
I’m grateful.
Sweet Silence
Hello Friday. It’s that day again that I come to a coffee shop to rest and receive from the Lord. Sometimes I feel like I do the most talking, but I’m learning to sit and listen to Him. Even if He doesn’t say anything. Because sometimes He doesn’t, and I’m reminded of times in life when He has been silent and I crave to hear His voice again.
How sweet the sound of His voice is after silence.
I remember teaching my piano students years ago what a rest in music was. Some of them wanted to rush the musical rest because it felt weird to be at a piano bench for even a couple of seconds when you weren’t actually doing or hearing anything. But over and over I told them the same thing: “Music is always sweeter after a rest.” I don’t know where I heard it, but I knew it was true. A rest makes the listeners lean in with anticipation to the music coming.
Music is sweeter after a rest.
I’ve come to learn (painfully and slowly) that God’s voice is much the same. His voice is sweeter to us after a time of silence. Not because He changes, but because our posture towards Him changes. We lean in towards Him more. We sit on the edge of our seats in anticipation. We beg for Him to speak and crave connection with His voice. We can suddenly identify with King David when he wrote:
“Answer me, Lord, for Your faithful love is good; in keeping with Your great compassion, turn to me. Don’t hide Your face from Your servant, for I am in distress. Answer me quickly!” Psalm 69:16-17 HCSB
I’m in a season of edge-of-the-seat silence. I can see His smile gracing me often. There are moments almost every day that I see His hand orchestrating the moments and answering my prayers. I know He is present and near…but I can’t hear His voice.
It’s hard to be still in the silence. Even when you’ve walked the wilderness before, it still doesn’t feel natural or right or comfortable. Anyway you cut it, the wilderness seasons feel dry. Dusty. Quiet. Silence isn’t comfortable.
I’m one of those people who is a chronic silence-filler. More than once I’ve felt nervous with silence and therefore felt the need to fill it in with WORDS. Sometimes the words are practically meaningless, which makes matters worse. It’s been a process of growing to understand and learning to live out the truth that sometimes being silent is okay. In fact, being still is a sign of maturity and security.
Have you ever been riding in a car with someone you don’t know very well and an awkward silence descends on the vehicle? In those situations, I tend to go inward freak-out mode and start filling the space with unnecessary conversation. The truth is, the better you know the other person in the silent vehicle, the more at rest you can be in the quiet. You have nothing to prove. Nothing to say that’s earth shattering. Just sitting there doesn’t bother you because you are secure in your own skin and at rest with this other person.
Today is one of those days when I am hypothetically in an enclosed area with a quiet Friend. I know He is fully aware of ALL my flaws and loves me anyway. He knows me better than anyone in the world and somehow I feel the need to fill the silence with pointless words. I can see His Fatherly smile upon me as I chatter away nervously. His face says it all. To just be at rest in His Presence. To just sit and soak in all the things He has told me over and over. Even when He doesn’t speak them right now, I know they are true. His promises never change because HE never changes.
Today in my favorite coffee shop I am reminded that His voice is sweeter after the silence. Until then, I will lean in with anticipation and rest in His Presence. Content to ride along with Him in the quietness. One day soon, His voice will split the silence and the sound will make my heart sing.
The wilderness experiences of life create a special hunger in my soul for Jesus. What about you?
Best. Valentine. Ever.
It’s that time of year again…when every store is decorating in red and pink hearts. Chocolate screams at you from every corner and the card section makes your eyes bug out of their sockets with an over-attention to a certain color palette. I have friends who have dubbed Valentine’s Day as “National Singleness Awareness Day” and I can see why.
I noticed this year how many people are moaning about their lack of love. Or their lack of a lover. Or how dejected they feel because they are spending yet ANOTHER Valentine’s Day without a ring on their finger, or a guy period. We talk about “surviving” the day like we are only a whole person with a second half. (Reminder dear friends: God made you to be whole with Him. Until He tells you otherwise, be content and whole with just Him.) And have mercy people! If you aren’t thick skinned, don’t get on social media today! Love is in the air…or in the cloud or something.
Now all of that ranting probably sounded uncompassionate. I’m not trying to be. I just think we as a culture are far too selfish, myself included. I’m not a person unaffected by the voices around me. The truth is, this is my 31st Valentine’s Day and I’ve never had a beau. Not even once. So…I get the initial thought pattern, to feel sorry for yourself on a Hallmark holiday as sweet as this one.
Today I worked half a day in the office and took the rest of the day to go on an early date with my Valentine. Usually I meet with Jesus for a few hours on Friday mornings, but this week I figured it would be appropriate to spend some time with the Lover of my soul on February 14th, even if it was a Thursday.
I’ve been unusually happy this morning. And it’s not because I’m looking forward to dinner with a sweetheart or I know I’ll get chocolate later…I will get neither. My joy comes from realizing the parallel between a day focused on the one who loves you and knowing Who really loves me.
My Valentine doesn’t buy me roses; He paints the sunsets. He doesn’t get me chocolate; He gives me the sweetness of relationships with my family and closest friends. He doesn’t take me to dinner; He invites me to a continual feast of His goodness. He doesn’t plan an outing for me; He compels me to join Him on the adventure of a lifetime! He knows me better than anyone in the world and still loves me.
I’ve spent most of my Valentine’s Days curled up on a couch reading to someone else’s kids. Single people make great babysitters since we have no other plans for today anyway. You know what? I LOVE IT. I love that I am in a season where I can support the marriages around me by giving them a night away from greasy fingers, tugs on the pant legs and wearing spit up on their shirts. Why not use my Valentine’s Days to love someone’s kids?
This is what makes the world go ‘round, folks. People need each other. Not just people in the same stage of life…people in various ages and stages that fit together like a beautiful puzzle. Married people need single people to watch their kids on Valentine’s Day and single people need to borrow married people’s kids when we get “baby-fever”. We need each other for more than that, but that’s just one example.
I keep thinking of Jesus today…more than usual. He can become all-consuming the more you get to know Him. There’s no one like Him. Every other lover pales in comparison. Who else can claim perfection except Jesus? He is so beautiful, y’all. Today I’ve been in awe of His love, mercy and redemption all over again. That He would pick a regular girl like me. That He would love me when I’m unlovable and choose me despite my inadequacies. He keeps whispering His love to me through every gentle breeze and answered prayer. Come to think of it, I’m kinda spoiled…
“Yahweh your God is among you, a warrior who saves. He will rejoice over you with gladness. He will bring you quietness with His love. He will delight in you with shouts of joy.” Zephaniah 3:17 HCSB
Best. Valentine. Ever.
It’s Called Mercy
“I’ve made a mess of my life.”
The woman sitting in front of me tried blinking back the tears to no avail. They slid down her cheeks and I could see she was wearing shame like a garment.
I’ve heard this statement a hundred times in prison. This time, I heard differently.
I could see into her hopeless heart. Craving meaning when her life was a train wreck. Crying out for purpose in the craziness she had created with her own hands. This woman was older than my mama and carried a story that no human should ever bear. Raised in a Christian home, knowing the right things to say at the right time, and yet still…she was here. She had walked a path that ended her locked up behind rows of barbed wire and concrete walls for longer than she wanted to admit.
“I’m not supposed to be here. I should be dead. Why would God waste His time on me?”
Her shame and guilt were palpable. I could see it in her shaking hands, sweaty brow and the salty tears streaming down her face. She felt like damaged goods. Hopeless. Unwanted.
What she didn’t realize is that two thousand years ago, the God of Creation saw this moment and chose a cross so He could rescue her from herself.
I reached out to grab her hand. “You wanna know? You wanna really know why you’re in here?” My question seemed to startle her a little, like I was about to give her a verbal pounding about all the ways she had blown it. For the first time in our conversation, her eyes met mine and her face softened. I hope she saw Love there…because that’s what I felt inside. Compassion.
She stared at be blankly, so I took that as a yes.
“It’s called MERCY. Jesus didn’t want to leave you out there in your sin. It’s His MERCY that brought you here so you could know that He loves you and wants to walk with you. He can use your brokenness for His good. He can redeem the years the locusts have eaten.”
The tears came faster now, more like sobs welling up from inside her deepest gut. “Your story doesn’t scare Him. Your past doesn’t define you. He loved you so much that He didn’t want to leave you to destroy yourself out there. This is His mercy.” I recounted the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden to her…how God’s mercy is what drove them from the Garden so they wouldn’t live in sin, separated from God forever. His mercy and compassion put them out of the Garden so they could one day partake of redemption.
Then He sent Jesus to be the payment for the sins we couldn’t clean off ourselves. He did for us what we couldn’t do for ourselves. That’s mercy and grace.
There are moments in life when you can actually see the light bulb go on inside someone’s else and this was one of those moments.
“It was mercy….” She whispered. I could see it welling up in her…the gratitude. She was connecting the dots, that the God of the Universe, the One who she had known about since a little child, had never stopped pursuing her wandering heart. He kept chasing her. Kept calling her name. Relentless love.
Mercy.
Her voice stopped quivering. “It was MERCY,” she said louder, “It WAS mercy!” She looked me straight in the eyes, “He. Is. So. Merciful,” she said. I nodded and smiled. She dropped my hand, wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve and lifted her hands in the air. “It was MERCY that brought me here! Mercy! Amen! What a good word! It was Mercy! Oh, thank you Jesus. It was mercy.”
Suddenly, she went into worship mode…seeing Mercy will do that to you. There she was with tears coming down her face, hands lifted up, praising God for His mercy.
Now I was the one with tears sliding down my cheeks. I wanted to take my shoes off, because THIS was holy ground.
Mercy is beautiful, friends.
She got it. She understood that the perhaps the most merciful thing God could do for her would be to bring her to the end of herself and to a place where she had to look at Him and no one else. Years of toxic relationships and emotional let-downs made His unconditional love stand out like a beacon of hope in a desperate world.
When is the last time you got a good look at mercy? To sit in awe of what God has rescued you from?
In prison last month, I saw Mercy reach down and rescue a woman who thought she was worthless. I saw Him hold her face in His hands and whisper the truth to her trembling heart: that He couldn’t stand living without her, so He died on a cross two thousand years ago so that He could redeem her. So they could forever be together. She was in awe of that kind of love…and she could hardly fathom she was worth that much to Him.
So are you.
It’s called Mercy.
“I will repay you for the years that the swarming locust ate, the young locust, the destroying locust—my great army that I sent against you. You will have plenty to eat and be satisfied. You will praise the name of Yahweh your God, who has dealt wondrously with you. My people will never again be put to shame. You will know that I am present in Israel and that I am Yahweh your God, and there is no other. My people will never again be put to shame.” Joel 2:25-27 HCSB
When God Makes You a Girl
“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; before you were born, I sanctified you…” (Jeremiah 1:5, NKJV)
When I was a little girl and up into my teens, I spent a lot of time struggling through how to life out my God-given femininity. It’s not that I wanted to be a boy necessarily…but I just struggled with being a girly-girl.
Some of this was because I was the only girl in my family (at the time). My playmates were my brothers and their friends. I loved climbing trees, playing Cowboys and Indians, and jumping ramps with my bike. I got dirty and played hard. I liked fishing with worms and target shooting with bows and arrows. One time I even remember rubbing dandelions and mulberries all over my face with my brothers and their friends like Indian war paint. Unfortunately, that wasn’t one of our best ideas…especially since it was right before Wednesday Awana classes.
But there was this other side of me…this princess side. I loved to dress up and have tea parties. I loved singing and playing with dolls and wearing high-heels. I liked jewelry and flowers and pretty things. I loved reading books about princesses and looking at pictures of far off places with fine china and ball gowns. I loved being beautiful.
I was forever caught between the two worlds…of hard play in the dirt with my bros and dainty tea time with my dress up outfits.
Becoming a teen didn’t simplify the problem either. I mean, let’s face it, there’s not a whole lot of easy stuff in your teen years. It’s pretty much rough to the core stuff. Figuring out who you are and what you believe are challenging issues to face. So, I came to this crossroads in my teen years…what was I going to do with my femininity? Don’t get me wrong, I never hated God for making me a girl…it’s just that I didn’t embrace it. I was more into surviving instead of thriving.
I remember being sixteen years old and looking in the mirror one morning and asking myself, “Faith, why did God make you a girl?” It wasn’t a rebellious question. It was honest. I knew if I could understand why God chose to make me feminine, then a whole lot of dots would connect for me. What did God want of me? Since He made me a girl, how should I respond to that? What did it mean to be a girl? To be feminine?
Let’s be honest girls, we all have this little thing inside of us that wants to be beautiful. To be loved. To twirl our dresses in front of our Daddy and to hear Him say how pretty we are. It’s in us. We long for affirmation. We are drawn to beautiful things. Don’t you think there’s a reason?
Psalm 90:17, “and let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us…”
1 Chronicles 16:29, “Give unto the Lord the glory due unto His name…worship Him in the beauty of holiness.”
Psalm 27:4, “One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple.”
We are drawn to beauty because we were made to crave JESUS. We were created to be drawn to the beauty of the Lord. We want to reflect that beauty. To be like Him.
These questions drove me to the Word of God….and what I found in the pages of Scripture have forever changed my life. I camped out at Psalm 139, reading it over and over. Trying to internalize its message. What I discovered was Purpose, and Meaning, and Value.
“You formed my inward parts; you covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Marvelous are thy works, and that my soul knows right well.” (Psalm 139:13-14) God made me beautiful.
Here’s some wonderful Bible trivia: If you ever want a fascinating study, look up who God calls beautiful or “fair” in Scripture. Since He wrote the Bible through His Spirit, you can bank on these gals being beautiful! I’ve found ten mentions in the whole Bible. Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, Abigail, Bathsheba, Tamar (Absolam’s sister), Tamar (Absolam’s daughter), Vashti, Esther, and Job’s second set of daughters. Check it out! It’s an amazing study. I especially love Job 42:15. Wow, what a thing for God to say of you!
Beauty is important. Femininity is important. They are who you are made to be. You see, what you believe about yourself will shape your purpose in life. We all need purpose to thrive. I love the verse in Jeremiah where God speaks truth to a young, quivering heart. A teenager at the time, Jeremiah was having an identity crisis too. He wasn’t sure if God really knew who He was choosing…then God says, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; before you were born, I sanctified you; I ordained you a prophet to the nations.” (Jeremiah 1:5, NKJV) At the beginning of time, God chose Jeremiah ON PURPOSE. He hand -picked Jeremiah before He made him in the womb. Seriously. Stop and chew on that for a minute.
I used to think that being feminine meant wearing white gloves and letting the servants pour your coffee. I used to believe that femininity was the same as weakness. But what I found was the opposite…being a Godly woman in the world we live in takes a powerful kind of strength. In fact, I think being truly feminine, as God would have us be, takes MORE strength than being a normal gal. (Going with the flow is always easier, right?!) Femininity loves being a girl! Femininity is accepting the design that God has engraved on our very being…and it starts in the heart.
So, there I was at 16 years old, realizing that since God made me girl…that must mean my femininity was the best way He could show up in my life for His glory. That changes everything, friend. Everything. He made me a girl ON PURPOSE and chose me to be a reflection of His beauty. He made me 100% feminine and colorful and beautiful and womanly. Now it was my turn to be asked a question, “What are you going to do with your femininity?”
I remember the lightbulb turning on that year for me. Instead of just dealing with myself, I began EMBRACING my femininity. I suddenly wanted to look like a girl. When boys or guys tried to hurl insults like “you throw like a girl” or “you fight like a girl”, I could grin and say to them “you bet I do!” I meant it. No, it didn’t happen overnight, but it did happen. Slowly, God replaced my feelings of insecurity and frustration with joy and love for the girl He had made me. Don’t get me wrong, femininity doesn’t mean I can’t go target practice with my brothers, play in mud puddles with my younger siblings, or ride four wheelers…it means my attitude is different…and that changes how I look and respond to life situations. I’m a girl, and I’m glad.
I wonder, have you ever questioned what in the world you were made for? Or maybe why God made you a girl? It’s ok to ask God questions. He’s God and can handle your problems, frustrations, and even anger. Ask Him to show you His purpose for your life. Embrace your femininity.
Quote this to yourself and remember that God is speaking these words right to you…” Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I sanctified you.” Breathe it, sister. Insert your name in there. He makes NO mistakes. You were created beautiful on purpose! Thank Him for making you feminine!
God’s purposes are bigger than ours and sometimes He has a sense of humor. I run into dozens of girls like you every year who tell me they struggle with being a girl. You just want to do fun things like the boys do and it’s frustrating. I hear your voices and I smile. I’ve been there. My heart melts when I meet you and you ask me, “why did God make me a girl?”
It’s in moments like that, I want to hug you big and say to your wondering heart…” Sister, can I tell you” …
He made you a girl so you could be soft hearted like He is.
He made you a girl so you could put bandages on banged up knees and hug people with broken hearts like He does.
He made you a girl because He wanted someone beautiful to reflect His beauty.
He made you a girl so you could be all the things that a man can’t be…like a mom and a big sister and an aunt. He wanted someone who could have a gentle heart towards children, like He does.
He made you a girl because He wanted a warrioress that could be tough in battle and tender with the elderly.
He made you a girl because He loves you and He wanted the best for you.
He wanted a princess…a daughter. So, He made you. You are precious to Him, sweet girl! You are the daughter of the King. Embrace it for all you are and live in it unashamedly. You are beautiful and loved and treasured…. because He made you a girl.
(Originally published for the Polished Cornerstones blog on September 20, 2015.)
Be a Door Holder
For the last five years, I’ve had a yearly motto. At the end of each year, I review what God has taught me. I haven’t learned fully each theme, but I always walk away different, changed and challenged by His call.
Last year was Come To His Table.
2017 was Be Brave.
This year, it’s Be a Door Holder.
Two of the people I have come to admire lately are Louie Giglio and his wife, Shelley. They are both so passionate about Jesus and living fully for His glory. They are also down-to-earth and humble…which doesn’t happen much when you have upwards of 302k followers. Y’all, humility is key to solid leadership…but that’s a topic for another day. I’ve watched them live their lives out (from a distance obviously, they aren’t my next-door neighbors) and have learned from their hearts to be present for those in their corner and then watch God expand their ministry all over the world.
Which brings me to my subject at hand: Being a door holder. In his Instagram bio, Louie says one thing… “Happy to be a door holder.” That’s it. I can’t tell you how many minutes I spent trying to nail down my Instagram bio. Seriously. I wanted to cram in everything that I loved and what I did and so I labored over those 100 characters far too long. Then this guy who could say way more than I ever could, says six words.
Happy to be a door holder. Six powerful words. The cool thing is Louie’s bio doesn’t point to him, it points to the Jesus he serves. Louie is just holding the door for people to get to Jesus. And he’s happy to do it. He just keeps pointing to this God who is powerful, redeeming, and full of mercy. He is holy and gracious and loving.
I can picture Louie Giglio like that… standing at the door of God’s house and motioning people to come in. If you’ve ever heard him speak, you know that his words do just that. They motion people to come to Jesus.
Literally the whole point of my life isn’t to make a name for myself. It’s not even to build a legacy. I was created to point to a living God who loves and lives to rescue and redeem.
I’m one of those weird young people who thinks about what I want people to write on my epitaph one day. I know, call me strange. I have one friend who says I have an “old soul”. She meant it as a compliment, so I took it as such. Anyhow…I think about death and heaven a lot for a thirty-year-old. Not in a morbid way, but life is short and death is certain, so I think about it often. What would I want written on my tombstone?
How about: “Just a road sign pointing to Jesus”?
I realize I’ve written about this before, but this time it’s being woven into the fabric of who I am. God keep reminding me that everything is about HIM, I’m just a tool in His hand. I’m to create hunger in people for Jesus, but not steal His thunder. I’m literally just a road sign…pointing to the Real Attraction.
I want to live 2019 that way…pointing to Jesus, and if I get to the end of the year and no one I talked to remembers my name, but they remember HIS…it will be a good year.
This year, I want to learn to be a Door Holder.
“For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.” Psalm 84:10 ESV
Lessons from His Table
Over the past year, my theme has been “Come to His Table”. For twelve solid months I’ve reflected on this concept. I’ve dug into His Word and God has opened my eyes to places where He is working and shown me what it is like to invite others to Him. He’s been so faithful and patient to illuminate His heart for the hurting and broken.
So now at the end of 2018, I’ve done some serious reflection about what I’ve learned about His Table. I feel like I’ve spent a year sitting at a Table for two…Jesus and I. We’ve had a lot of conversations. We’ve talked around the world. We have walked a scary and strange road together. Jesus has opened my eyes to new concepts and readjusted my thought-patterns a thousand times. He has listened to my heart and dried my tears. He has comforted my fearful soul and challenged me to dream bigger. His Table has been a place of loving correction and exciting conversation. It has been a place that I long to go.
I’ve found peace at His Table. There have been times when I’ve felt so discombobulated and knew I needed His Table desperately. It’s been those times where I’ve RAN THERE and found exactly what I was looking for. This year I’ve learned the importance of His Table, so I’ve made time for Him more often. I’m learning how critical it is for me to get to His Table often and regularly, so I make it a priority.
I’ve learned a thousand things at His Table and ABOUT His Table… but here are seven of the biggest things I’ve learned in 2018:
- He wants His Table full. It’s His will that none would perish (2 Peter 3:9) and Scripture shows us that Jesus wants His house and Table full (Luke 14). Repeatedly I’ve seen Jesus call the down-and-outers to Himself. He calls the broken. The weary. The ones who are least likely and most needy. The ones who seem uninterested are also invited. He wants Every. Seat. Filled.
- Jesus does everything and we just show up. I’ve spent too many years insulting Him with my jello-from-a-box addition to His banquet. He doesn’t need my gifts or abilities…yes, He graciously chooses to use me, but He could do it easily (certainly even easier!) without me. All I need to do is just show up. He did everything. He sent the invitations. He paid for the meal. He made the dinner. He ONLY wants us to show up. Just say YES to His invitation and be thankful for HIS FINISHED WORK on the Cross. (John 19:28-30)
- People are hungry for Hope…which is served at His Table. Our world is full of hurting and broken people who are craving the Hope that only Jesus can offer. I’ve seen brokenness in a new dimension this year than ever before. Ministering in women’s prisons has shown me some hard truths about the messed-up world we live in. I’ve heard some incredibly hard and horrendous stories. I’ve witnessed women craving answers to their deepest questions and heart’s needs…and I’ve seen what can happen when a woman decides to slide into a seat at His Table. Most often, she’s already tried everything else the world has to offer…and she is still hungry. Where Jesus is the one serving up Truth, she is suddenly full and satisfied. (Romans 5:5, 8:24-25, 15:13)
- I need to go to His Table first before inviting others. I’ve been the recipient of this Table-for-two and it’s a beautiful time. It’s personal and gives time for us to reflect and be real with the Jesus who knows us intimately. He wants to use the truths He has given me at His Table to bless others through me. We see in 2 Corinthians 1:3-7 that the whole point of our sufferings and being comforted in them is so that we can turn around futuristically and comfort those in the same situation. We are blessed so we can be a blessing! He fills our hands at the Table so we can turn and feed others.
- My life is designed to be a LIVING INVITATION to His Table. My life should point to His Table. That’s the essence of my entire existence…to shine a spotlight on Jesus. That’s it. I don’t have to overcomplicate it…I just have to live a real, tangible life that speaks of His glory and not my own. When I’m truly filled with His goodness, people are drawn to the Jesus in me. Sometimes they even ASK me about Him…and that’s the coolest thing ever! I’m just a living stone pointing to the star attraction: an extravagant God Who sent His Son to rescue. My whole life was literally created to help people see the Gospel in full color…and this simplifies my feverish scheduling and stressing considerably. (2 Corinthians 3:1-3 and 1 Peter 2:5)
- If you will feed them, they will come. It’s not rocket-science. Just offer them what they’ve been hungry for, and they will beat down your door to get it. You don’t have to convince, prod, beg or push people to come. You don’t have to be seeker-friendly. Folks want authenticity way more than they want comfort. If they know what is served at the Table and they have seen the evidence of its beauty in your own life, they will naturally be drawn there. Guaranteed. I’ve seen this happen in 2018. I have seen people drawn to Jesus by watching the life of an authentic Christian who loves well and is open to sharing their faith. I have noticed that BROKEN and SCARRED people reach the lost far better than those who want stand on a pedestal and proclaim their own message. This is because God rushes into our weakness and we become useable when we are busted up (Psalm 34:18 and 2 Corinthians 12:9-10). Just share your life honestly with those in your sphere of influence… they don’t need your perfection, they need your JESUS.
- The Devil will show up and try to get a seat too. Don’t let him. It’s not for him…so don’t let him pull up a chair and whisper lies to your heart. He will mask himself as important and pretend to be what you’ve been needing, but he is just sneaking up to the Table and wanting to plant deceit in your heart. Kick him out. Learn to recognize his voice quickly by making your number one Voice Jesus. The more you listen to Jesus, read and apply His Word, and speak to Him regularly, the more you will be able to spot the fake voice a mile away. Familiarize yourself with TRUTH and the lies will be obvious. Don’t give the enemy a seat at your table (1 Corinthians 10:21-22).
This year has been powerful. In fact, I look over the past year and know that I am a radically different woman than the one who started 2018. Challenging, stretching and with tons of opportunities to lean into Jesus because I was hopeless on my own…but it was a year I wouldn’t trade for the world. Maybe every year is supposed to be that way.
I’m grateful for this theme — Come to His Table — it’s shown me a side of God’s character that is amazing. Many of the truths I’ve learned at His Table these last twelve months have been woven into the fabric of my being as I learn to apply them and see a little more of Who Jesus is. He is beautiful, friends. So beautiful.
Good Gifts
This is one of my favorite times of year. I’ve spent most of my growing up years in the North with snowy, white Christmases and lots of sledding and hot cocoa. I’ve also had several Southern winters (shout out to my favorite Arkansans!) where snow is rare and when it comes, the whole world shuts down.
This season is my favorite for a bunch of reasons, but sometimes it’s fun to make a list (I love lists!) of my favorite things. Even writing them here brings a smile to my face…
- A Children’s play- There’s nothing quite like a kids’ Christmas play. It just never goes down twice the same way.
- Live Nativity- It’s not every day you see your neighbors dressed up as roman soldiers or wise men in crowns.
- Watching the Christmas story in movie form- with someone over 90 or under 10. I’ve done both in one year and it’s a riot!
- Salvation army bell ringing- these have become some of the best times for me over the last few years. I love talking with random strangers and spreading the joy of Christmas with others.
- Shopping with your brother- I give gift ideas, they foot the bill. We work well together.
- Family gatherings- Most of my relatives are huggers. Togetherness is awesome. We laugh, cry, and hug a lot.
- Decorating the home and church- I’m not the best at decorating…but I do enjoy it. My younger sister has the eye for it and I just follow what she does. Works out pretty good that way.
- Making Christmas cookies- gathering with my sister-in-loves and their kiddos for cookie making day is always a blast. We have fun making a mess together and then eating our creations.
- Snow. Born in Michigan, I’m just a snow-lovin’ gal. It’s beautiful…especially when you’re inside.
- Hot cocoa and Peppermint mocha. Need I say more?
- Sledding. Even though I’m an adult now, I’ve made it my goal to go sledding at least once a year. It keeps me a child inside and helps me not take myself too seriously.
- Ice skating. There’s something about skating that can be so relaxing.
- Christmas music. I try to hold out for November 1st to turn it on…but it rarely happens. Christmas music is the best!
- Lights…indoor and out. One of my favorite memories as a kid is when my dad or uncle would load me, my brothers and cousins up in the station wagon and we would go “light looking”. This year, we put up our own outdoor lights and it brought back a thousand mental snapshots of the wonder in my eyes as a child. Lights are captivating.
- Jesus. Light of the World. Emmanuel. BEST GIFT EVER.
- Christmas cards. Stacks of them…and all the updated family photos too. What fun to see how everyone is changing and growing up!
- Warm gloves and hats. Even if they’re not matching, they still keep ya warm.
- Wrapping presents. There’s something satisfying about wrapping gifts neatly and stacking them for Christmas morning.
- Evergreen wreaths. My mom and sister have a knack of making these beautifully. I hang them up.
- Orange rolls on Christmas morning. This is a tradition I remember my Grammie doing and we’ve carried it on in our home every Christmas day.
Christmas is a time to remember JESUS, the ultimate Gift. A God who loved us so much that He humbled Himself and moved into our neighborhood. He chose to be with us. He wrapped Himself in human skin and spoke our language. Creator of the universe became a Baby so we would understand LOVE and REDEMPTION.
Tonight I sit and wonder at His faithfulness and kindness. He gives good gifts.
(photo credits: Charity F. Walker, Life Through The Lens Photography)
Wonder in the Waiting
“The thrill of Hope, a weary world rejoices” the all-too familiar carol lilting out on the radio. I say “all-too familiar” because sometimes familiarity breeds contempt. I often miss the big picture with things that are right under my nose or staring me directly in the eyes. Yesterday, those words seem to hang in the air.
Anticipation. Waiting. Being in the limbo.
These are feelings I’ve seemed to connect with a lot lately. In this moment, with those words dancing in my head, I started wondering. The Thrill of Hope. Is there thrill in the hope of something to come? Or have I ceased to allow anticipation to ride on the same thread that I experience wondering and waiting? Have I made the unknown so scary in my mind that I don’t consider the fact that it could bring JOY?
I’ve told more than one friend that my default setting is definitely FEAR. If it’s potentially exciting…I get scared. If it’s potentially hard…I get nauseous. If I’m unsure of the outcome, I’m fearful. Jesus is working hard to recalibrate and change my default setting…but it’s a process of renewing my mind and TRUSTING Him.
Anticipation. I wonder what the emotions were for young Mary as she waited on the birth of her Son and Savior? Was there any fear? Excitement? Worry? Curiosity? How about anticipation?
There is wonder in waiting.
Yesterday I read Psalm 37 and the words of truth resonated in my heart: “Trust in the Lord and do what is good; dwell in the land and live securely. Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart’s desires. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him, and He will act, making your righteousness shine like the dawn, and your justice like the noonday. Be silent before the Lord and wait expectantly for Him; do not be agitated by the one who prospers in his way, by the man who carries out evil plans.” (verses 3-7, HCSB)
The word EXPECTANTLY hit me between the eyes. There can be hope in Anticipation. It can be a good thing. To look full into the face of change with hope and joyful anticipation. Maybe I’m the only one who looks at change as a bad thing…but I tend to fear change instead of welcoming it with open arms as I would a good friend. Let’s face it, change is sent by God to mold us into His image. Why wouldn’t I want to give Change a hand shake and a seat at my table? Embracing change is a sign of maturity. Apparently, I’m not there yet.
If I’m honest, I live like the verse reads very differently: “Be scared-to-death before the Lord and wait in freak-out mode for Him” because that’s what I do. I seem to often think negative. As if Jesus is out to ruin my life. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Yesterday I sat at a coffee shop table and argued with God for a while. I just couldn’t calm my fearful soul. Then in a moment, Jesus gave me a word picture: I saw the eyes of a child during this time of year. The wonder. The lights, the decorations, the wrapped presents under the tree, the special Christmas cookies and the music. I’ve never once seen a child who is afraid of what is beneath the wrapping paper…they are excited and full of hope. They can’t wait to see what’s inside. The wonder and expectation.
I realize I’m looking at this all wrong. I can see myself sitting and Jesus stands in front of me with a wrapped gift extended in His pierced hands. It’s beautiful and sparkly and I see the look of complete delight on His face. He is thrilled to give this to me. Then I see my face: frightened beyond all definition and my hands are trembling as a take it from His hands. Something just doesn’t set well.
This word picture stuns me. Am I really responding to Jesus like this? As if He doesn’t know what I need. The things I’m fearing? The change I’m afraid of? He knows. He understands me better than I understand myself. He has my good and His glory in mind. This wrapped gift is full of unknown possibilities for me. The good and the bad wrapped together, but it’s a change that I need to receive with hopeful expectation.
What if I received this unknown gift with wonder in my eyes? Knowing full-well that He does all things well and will walk this road with me…unwrapping this gift along the way. I want to be a child again, jumping up and down with glee at the thought of what He has in store for me.
Yes, there is wonder in the waiting. We serve a God of mystery, and with each paper-covered present, we have the opportunity to unwrap part of His character that we may otherwise not know. That sounds exciting to me!
Today I decided that I want to wait expectantly for Jesus. The thrill of hope. He has great plans for me. He gives good gifts. I want to have wonder in the waiting.
Write Your Blessings
Thessalonians 5:18, “In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”
Gratefulness. Praise. Thanksgiving. We have all heard it over and over again. We’ve read books about it. We’ve heard sermons on it. We’ve told our friends and they’ve told us. We know that God wants us to praise Him and be grateful on a daily basis. Yet somehow, in the crazy lives we live, we forget. Often. At least I do.
About six years ago, I read a book that put this gratefulness thing into a whole new perspective for me. The book is called “One thousand Gifts” by Ann Voskamp. I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the connection between my gratefulness (or lack of it) and my heart’s joy level. I’ve lived it’s truth, so I knew it wasn’t a made-up correlation. When I am grateful, I am naturally joyful. Somehow focusing on the gifts God has given me turns my attitude to joy.
So I decided to take the challenge. I chose to write down 1,000 gifts.
I started a beautiful notebook….and I kept it laying on the counter as I went about my day. I took it in my purse when I was gone. It went with me on vacation. That journal was with me constantly. I found (as I had learned through Scripture and Ann’s book) that being thankful made me joyful. It made me mindful of all the little things and made me laugh and smile at the simplest gifts. I saw it as a spiritual exercise. A forming of a habit that would bring glory and praise to Jesus.
My first entires were all happy ones.
The inviting smell of peppermint mocha… Old family photographs- wrinkled and worn…Candle flames, dancing in the shadows…American flags flapping in the breeze…Church bells that ring twice a day… Spring flowers blooming….empty laundry baskets.
All of a sudden I treasured the smile of a stranger. I loved the first daffodil that bloomed…the rainbow that arched across the sky…the sunset…the eyelashes on a baby…a stack of old books. I went from grumbling about the mud on the floor to thanking God for it. I was smiling more. I was laughing often. I was breathing thanks a hundred times a day. I was LOOKING for His graces in all the normal, but beautiful everyday things. My heart praised Him often.
This was a turning point for me. Something happened as I chronicled Gods fathomless love for me. My heart was changing. Life was shifting. Through this shift, I began thanking God for the less pleasant things. The G key that sticks on the piano…Sloppy muddy driveways… A broken furnace… Sickness in our home… Broken glass… Ramen noodles smashed into the floor… Spilled beads everywhere.
The good and the bad together. He says to praise Him for all things. ALL. Garden gloves… Dead cell phone batteries… Long afternoons of reading… Empty laundry baskets… Homemade pies… Oily work clothes from my brothers… Cold sleet outside… Being snowed in… Fresh strawberries… Old quilts.
Sometimes I would get so excited about seeing gifts of God that I would grab anything I could find and scribble my thanks on it. Then I would take it home and transfer it to my journal. I had stacks of random receipts, small scraps of paper and McDonalds napkins all with things I was grateful for. Sometimes we would even write our blessings on little sticky notes and cover the refrigerator with them. My journal hit 1,000 gifts…but then I couldn’t stop! My heart became fuller…because my focus was on Him. His goodness. His grace. His love for me.
But sometimes in life, our focus can shift. It happens that way for me. A few years ago, I was in one of those ruts where gratefulness was really not a part of my daily routine. Enter my youngest sister…again. She has a way of pricking my conscience so innocently. Her honest tenderness to the Holy Spirit has convicted me more than once. So I was playing the piano, practicing some music for Sunday worship and she came up to me with that thoughtful look in her eyes. I knew something big was coming…but I didn’t know what. It was time for a wake up call.
“Are you ever afraid to raise your hands?” She asked me. I was a little confused. She didn’t give me any background to her line of questioning. After a minute of questioning she kind of sighed in her seven-year-old way and said, “I am afraid to raise my hands and praise the Lord in church. Are you ever afraid like that? I think about people watching me.” Wow. Ok. Not ready for that one from a little girl. Now it was my turn to sigh.
I had to admit…yes, I am afraid sometimes to praise the Lord out loud or in the open. I fear man more than God sometimes. I assured her that I feel those same things and that God is jealous for our praise. He wants us to glorify Him…to think of Him more than what other people are thinking of us. We talked for a minute about the Bible and how God says to lift our hands in praise and sing songs to Him….but I kept thinking about me. I needed to thank Him more. To praise Him bigger. To love Him more than anything.
But what came next knocked the wind out of me. I could see this seven-year-old in front of me processing this in her little way. She is brilliant and sensitive to the Lord…I could see it all clicking. She almost looked sad…like she had done something wrong. She told me how she had wanted to raise her hands during worship, but she was too scared. I echoed that thought. I’ve been there…just not at seven. “You know,” she said, “this Sunday, I am NOT going to let the rocks take my place!” Her eyes were serious. Determined. Then she started singing to explain. “Before the rocks cry out, I just want to praise you, just want to praise you, for all you have done.”
Suddenly, I felt like I was standing on Holy ground. God was here. I held back to tears. This moment was so sacred. My heart was full…and sad. I was the one the rocks were replacing! I was neglecting to thank Him. To praise His name. To tell others. To chronicle His love to me. I had forgotten the most important thing…Him. She ran away with a bounce in her step. I sat there heavy.
That was my neon sign from heaven! I went to the Lord…repenting of my ungratefulness and asking Him to create in me a clean heart. I started counting blessings again. Thanking Him. Looking for Him everywhere I went.
What about you? Are you worshipping Him? Thanking Him? Praising Him? Lets make His glory a daily part of our lives. There are lots of ways we can do that…maybe through sharing about Jesus with a friend, through worshipping Him in song, through praising Hin in prayer or through writing your blessings down. Let’s have hearts of gratefulness to our Father!
“Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness: come before His presence with singing…Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise: be thankful into Him and bless His name. For the Lord is good; His mercy is everlasting; and His truth endureth to all generations.” Psalm 100:1-2, 4-5
Don’t Hurry
Caregiving wasn’t ever something I asked for or signed up for or chose. Each time I took care of a lady, the opportunity just fell into my lap because they were women I loved. Jesus would whisper His famous question to my heart and I would know: this was for me. He would ask me- “Faith, do you trust Me?” That’s always my signal that He’s about to lead me somewhere that is good, but will scare my socks off.
Each caregiving experience is totally different from another. Each person has taught me many things and changed who I am dramatically. They have trained me to lean into Jesus in deeper ways and challenged me to open my heart again, even if it means the end of the road is loss. Both of my long-term caregiving opportunities have molded me into the person I am today and (as painful as they were for me to learn to love fully and then let go) I wouldn’t trade either of them for a world of ease. I treasure those days of learning and growing and crying and hearing the whisper of God- “I will hold you.”
Tonight, I sit and reflect about my second caregiving experience…with 98-year-old “Grandma N”. My sister and I took turns staying with Grandma each night and learned to love her like part of our family. She was hilarious, quick-witted, and thoughtful. She made me laugh every time I was with her. Even on her worse days, she never lost her sense of humor.
We had a routine at night of old-time shows and tv, popcorn and loud conversations (because she rarely had her hearing aids in). We learned to calm her fears about random things. Dementia does strange things to your mind, and we slowly learned to navigate the challenges of communicating with her in a way that she felt safe and stable.
Grandma taught me a lot about being still. Just being. Being present in the lives of those you love, but not always moving. My life has always been fairly active and loud and full-to-the-brim. Life with Grandma was a shuffle-pace at best. On really bad days, it meant sitting in a chair and being willing to just listen to her breath as she went in and out of sleep. I read a lot of books during those nine months. She taught me to sit still and value the silence and the presence of someone else you love…just being in the room. She loved having us there. Just having us there made her happy. She told us that repeatedly.
About a year before she went to heaven, I penned these words in my journal:
Today…she was slumped over in a chair, sleeping fitfully. I tried to wake her…but she didn’t stir easily. When she did wake up, she could hardly stay awake for more than two or three minutes and her speech didn’t make a lot of sense. Her eyes were glassy. Her body twitched. Her breaths came heavy and labored.
I haven’t ever seen the Angel of Death, but I seemed to smell him tonight. It was as if he was waiting at the side of that chair or hovering over the area. I’m not saying I felt creepy. I just felt fragile. Like I was helpless and couldn’t do a thing for this dying lady I love.
Life is fragile. Life is a vapor. We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow. Death is really just a breath away.
I watched her struggle to keep her eyelids open. To straighten herself in the chair. To carry on a real conversation. But she couldn’t. She was tired and her body was shutting down.
It’s difficult to explain what I felt like in that moment. To be so full of life and energy and still unable to help someone.
And then as I got up to leave, she stirred. Her nearly hundred-year-old body jarring awake for just a few moments. And then it came…the seven words that never failed to roll off her tongue every time someone visits. “Don’t need to be in a hurry.” I almost started at it this time. She was dying. But the habit of slowing down was ingrained in the fiber of her very being.
Hurry. That’s what keeps me from enjoying life almost every day of my life. And here’s this lady…dying and reminding me at the same time to take a minute. To breathe. To slow down my pace a bit. To not hurry.
Yes, Grandma taught me to value stillness. To sit and listen. To BE and treasure the presence of those I love more than the going and doing. She taught me to not hurry. To be patient. To be okay with waiting and pausing to watch a sunset or eat an ice cream on the front porch. She even taught me that in a pinch, instant coffee will do. One can’t be too picky, when you’re in a pinch.
Patience is lost in our culture. In Grandma’s era, people valued relationship more than status…she wasted no time in telling me such. She knew the truth about what was and is really important in this life, and she made a point to teach me the value of slowing down and enjoying life with those around me.
Grandma went to be with Jesus on August 20th, 2018 and I miss her. Tonight I breathe thanks for a life well-lived. She taught me by example to live aware of each moment. To not rush and to treasure the times we have with our family and friends. I sit and ponder this season of Hope we are entering and pray that God will keep my eyes wide open to the opportunities I have to BE with those I love. With Christmas gatherings around every corner, I want to be fully present and willing to listen and be with my people.
Sitting here on this December night, I hear Grandma’s voice ringing in my ears again: “Don’t need to be in a hurry.” Aahh. The wisdom of a 98-year-old woman sinks into my soul. Hurry is overrated. Let’s just BE AVAILABLE and BE PRESENT and BE LOVE…I think Jesus would agree with Grandma. We don’t need to be in a hurry.
Hosea and Gomer
Hosea and Gomer. I’ve always loved this story…not because it’s a happy fairytale, but because it’s not. It’s real. It’s human weakness and Supernatural love on display. The kind that only God can give.
Last week I purchased a copy of “For Such a Time As This” by Angie Smith. It’s a children’s book designed for little girls about the women of the Bible. The illustrations are beautifully done and the writing style is lovely.
I settled in one afternoon on the couch with my baby sister to flip through the pages and read some stories to her. At page 120, I stopped. There they were. Hosea and Gomer. As I read the words aloud (well written, by the way, for a younger crowd) it struck me again. I’m in awe of this story.
Hosea is told to marry Gomer despite her checkered past. He does and he loves her. They have children, but Gomer’s old life pulls at her. She eventually leaves. But this is where it gets so unbelievable. Hosea’s love for Gomer is unreal. After all she does…her trickery, her lying, her cheating, her unfaithfulness…Hosea chooses to love her anyway.
My favorite part of this story is the end… Gomer winds up being sold into slavery. Dirty, penniless, and unable to help herself…she stands there on the selling block waiting for someone to buy her. Rejected. Broken. Unwanted. Hopeless. Her past is stained. Her future is bleak.
Then a Jewish man steps up to bid. He buys Gomer and she looks up into the face of her new master…and gasps. It is Hosea. Her Hosea. The one she was unfaithful to. The one she turned her back on for something worthless. He bought her back.
This is unconditional love. Crazy love.
At this point in the book, I am crying. I can’t hide my tears and my little sister is trying to figure out why I’m crying at a children’s book. My voice wobbles as I read the last few sentences. But it’s not a children’s story. This is my story.
This story is of Jesus rescuing me from myself. Loving me despite my flaws. Redeeming me though I am completely unworthy. Calling me consistently to Himself when my heart wanders. This is MY story.
Hosea 3:1-2
“Then said the LORD unto me, Go yet, love a woman beloved of her friend, yet an adulteress, according to the love of the LORD toward the children of Israel, who look to other gods…So I bought her to me for fifteen pieces of silver, and for an homer of barley, and an half homer of barley.”
Hosea and Gomer. Jesus and me. This is my story. Unconditional love for an undeserving girl….and I’m forever grateful to Him.
(Originally written on May 23, 2016…but I’m still in awe of His redemption!)
Life Between Trail Signs
Ten days ago, I started looking for yellow diamonds. Yellow trail signs that told me I was going the right direction. I was hiking Mount Nebo in Arkansas with two friends and the trail seemed to be getting longer and longer. What I thought was a one-mile path was taking hours and I was pretty sure it was no longer in the “easy” category.
It was beautiful outside…the colors are still vibrant in some places of Arkansas unlike my Michigan home. The air was autumn crisp but the sun made it feel warm and cheerful. I had decided to wear my tall boots to walk since the trail wasn’t going to be long and I wanted to be toasty with my long socks. We stopped every few minutes to take some photos of the incredible views and marvel at God’s creation. We even looked at the state park map a few times.
That’s when things started seeming a little off. After all, this trail seemed like it was longer than one mile. The map was slightly confusing and reading it with two others brought conflicting opinions. The only thing I knew for sure is that we were on the yellow diamond trail, so I started keeping my eyes peeled for those bright gold signals on trees.
We weren’t lost…we just weren’t exactly sure which trail we were on or how long it was. We kept hiking along, stopping here and there to take in the sights or take a drink from our water bottles. One whole side of the mountain was shaded and much cooler. There were icicles hanging down from the rugged crevices and it instantly made me feel colder. But every little while I would see another yellow diamond and would feel the inner shout: YES! We’re still on the right path!
That’s when I started thinking about how much this paralleled the “limbo” feeling of walking the path of life. I hate being in the limbo…the in-between seasons of life are uncomfortable. Ever wondered if you’re on the right road to where you’re going? Let me tell you, I’m there more often than I’d care to admit. Those spaces of wondering and wandering can be painful…or tension at best.
I’m still learning as I go through these seasons of limbo…but here are four things I recognized and connected dots with along the mountain path recently:
- Follow the signs. Our Guide doesn’t leave us hanging. There are road signs posted along the way for you to stay on the right path. Learn how to read them and then follow them faithfully. His Word will not fail us! It will not return to us void. It is a lamp to our feet and a light to our path! Start looking for the “yellow diamonds” and then keep pointing your life in that direction.
- Stay with your people. Picking the right people to walk with is key in trailblazing. Friends that will point you to Your Guide, the map (the Word of God!) and will listen to the same Voice (the Holy Spirit). Stick with your people…they will encourage you, pick you up when you fall, correct you when you’re reading the map wrong, tell you when you’re about to trip on a rock, and even remind you when you need to take a break. Some of your people will carry your backpack and take pictures of you too. The important thing is that you pick the right people to do life together. You can climb anything with the right people. They don’t have to be just like you (in fact, they shouldn’t and won’t be!) but the main points will line up and they will sharpen you. Your strengths and weaknesses will bind you together as a team. Find your people and stay with them.
3. Keep moving forward. Don’t stand and wait for another sign…it won’t come to you. Keep moving. Staying in one place won’t get you anywhere. You’re going to have to trust Jesus and move forward. Having a rough season? It’s okay to cry and walk forward, even slowly. Just keep moving. Always keep moving forward. Plus, moving will keep you warm.
4. Be Patient. Waiting isn’t my strong suit. Never had been. I’m learning this more and more lately about myself. Waiting is something I hate doing. Being in the limbo, or in the in-between seasons of life can be difficult! But Jesus is in those spaces too…sometimes even more so in the stillness. Learn to lean into His Presence. Trust His will. He is good. No, He doesn’t always make sense to our human brains, but He is always good. He is for us and His way is perfect.
Yes, we made it the whole way on Mount Nebo that day. It took longer than expected, but we stayed together, followed the signs and kept moving forward. We’ve got some pretty cool pictures to prove it. My step-counting watch said over thirteen thousand steps. It was a hike to remember.
So, when the trail seems to tower above you like a mountain climb that winds around and around, remember this: in the seasons of in-between, He is there with you. He has a purpose. Those seasons of limbo can be beautiful, because He is walking the road with us. Never alone…always one step ahead of us.
I’ve come to call these spaces Life Between Trail Signs.
Stillness
Stillness can be stifling if you’re used to being busy constantly. Always on the move. Always DOING and not BEING. It’s easy for those of us who are DOERS to feel lazy when we are still. Like we are un-spiritual because of our lack of busyness.
I’m a DOER. As long as I can remember, I loved getting things done. Even as a little girl, I craved check lists…and even more than that I loved the feeling of checking off those tiny boxes. I felt accomplishment. Ok, let’s be honest…I still enjoy check lists!
If you know me…or even if you follow this blog…you know that my life seems to always be spinning out of control. At least spinning out of MY control. My calendar has been a mess of scheduled events, mission trips, and running everywhere.
This past Friday, I sat in my room in Little Rock and the stillness was almost deafening. After a year of traveling and deadlines and ministry ventures, some unexpected events brought my plans to a halt. It’s not a bad thing, but my schedule was to drive here for the purpose of leading another women’s prison seminar…and after we were already almost here the seminar fell through. That hasn’t happened to me before, so I was instantly wondering why God would allow us to drive 12 hours only to have the reason we came be canceled.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this kind of experience. I’m constantly on the move…preparing, meeting someone, making a phone call, sending emails. But I didn’t plan on sitting on my bed in my room in Little Rock late into the night—not exactly tired enough to go to bed and certainly wondering what in the world I was going to do for the next week.
My Chaplain assures me there’s plenty of office work and I believe him. But there’s something about these quiet evenings that feels strange. I’m used to commotion, lots of voices and constant activity.
There’s something to be said about BEING, even when you are a DOER by nature. There are moments where God provides stillness to speak to our hearts.
Sitting here in the lamp light with the heater blowing softly, I look up at the ceiling and ask: “Okay Lord, what do you want for me this week?”
Perhaps this is the moment when Jesus smiles. This might be the question that He’s been waiting for. His smile feels like favor. A warm embrace of the soul…because He has a plan. He’s had a plan all along. My plan has been known to get in His way and He has His way of clearing the way for His will.
I hear His whisper: Be still. Just BE. Just BE here with Me. Trust Me…I’ve got this, don’t you know? I’ve got a plan and all you have to do is be. Hear my Voice and everything will be okay. Rest, Faith. It’s okay to rest in these moments, you don’t always have to be doing. Breathe. Just BE.
I exhale. The stillness suddenly comforts instead of repels me. He is here…in the stillness.
Beautifully Different
“But do not be conformed to this world, but be TRANSFORMED by the renewing of your mind, that you may be able to prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.” Romans 12:2, NKJV (emphasis mine)
Let’s face it, friends. We all like to be “in the club”. No one likes to be the odd ball…to stick out or be different from the crowd. We are a culture of sameness. People don’t want to stand out. We all want to blend into our favorite click and be like everybody else. We want to look like, talk like, and be like whatever person is currently the image. We enjoy our clicks.
It’s sad really. We feel like if we can hide in the sea of normality that it’s better for us. It’s safer. Less dangerous.
Now I’m not a Bible scholar…but I do love the Word of God. It is hope and healing and redemption when our world is painfully short of these things. I’ve found my only solace in the pages of Scripture and in this amazing JESUS I’ve come to know and love…but…nowhere in the Bible can I find where God tells us to fit in. Actually I find the complete opposite.
Now before you click off this page and start looking for something else to read, let me give you some clarification here. I’m NOT saying that you need to purposely go in every opposite direction that the crowd is going. I’m NOT saying you need to dress wild and weird just because you want to be different. I’m NOT encouraging you to be rebellious or to act strange and justify it according to Scripture. What I am talking about here is the heart…and that will affect every area of your life.
You see, being a Christian is more than going to church and having John 3:16 memorized…and those are wonderful things. Being a Christian means you are a “Christ-follower” and that means you are to be set apart for His purposes. Jesus repeatedly tells you and I in Scripture to “take up your cross and follow Me”. Crosses are heavy. They are abnormal. If you carry a cross you are definitely different from the average Joe. Who wants to be uncomfortable, right? We’re all about being cozy…and carrying a cross is everything BUT cozy.
I was thinking about this whole concept of fitting in one day as I was driving to a meeting. The topic of standing up, standing alone and standing out was rolling around in my mind. It’s something that I deal with on a personal level but also as I talk to young ladies everywhere. It’s a common thread in all circles…fitting in is just the thing to do, or at least try to do.
I take the back roads when I’m going places because I love this beautiful time of year. As I turned one corner on this particular morning, I noticed that a corn field had recently been harvested and a fence row of trees now stood in full view. My jaw dropped open. I stopped my car.
There in front of me was a huge row of brown, crusty trees, dead from the autumn wind and mostly barren of leaves. Directly in the center was a big, beautiful tree in full color. It stared at me. It was so different from the others. So beautiful. It seemed to beckon me.
Sitting there on the side of the road, it was as if God spoke to my heart as I stared in disbelief at the beautiful sight.
Being different for the right reasons can be incredibly beautiful.
I sat there and thanked God for a word picture. (I really need those sometimes!) Suddenly, being different didn’t look so scary or weird…it looked beautifully alive and strangely wonderful. You see, our lives are to be so radically different that it beckons our dying world to take a look at our JESUS! We should look different so that those we come in contact with cannot help but hunger for the Bread of Life. We should make people thirst for the Living Water as we live purposely set apart.
When we follow Jesus fully, our lives are different…but they are beautifully so.
What does that look like…to be set apart from the world. We want to be in the world, but not of it….so (practically speaking) what does that look like?
Let me ask you… does your Facebook look any different from your non-Christian friends? Is it selfie-focused or others-oriented? No…I’m not saying you can only post Bible verses and sermon videos! I’m saying…does it speak of your different-ness? What about presenting an accurate picture of who you are…not always making your life seem like a fairy tale and stretching the truth to seem more glamorous. Everybody knows it’s not girls, you live in a broken world like the rest of us…so just be honest. If you don’t have something nice to say on there…don’t say anything! Do you partake in gossip and slanderous talk or do you speak with kindness and make them wonder about your JESUS?
What about your speech? Do you talk with the same language that everyone else uses? Do you refrain from profanity, or do you struggle to not fit in…so maybe you curse sometimes to be cool?
Do you do things and go places that you know you shouldn’t, but it just feels awkward to go against the flow so you do it anyway?
Do you only choose to befriend people who are like you or do you have lots of age groups and personalities in your circles? Look at people through Jesus’s eyes…It’s different, but it’s beautiful.
What about the way you look…the way you carry yourself…your attitude…how you treat your parents and siblings…what activities you spend your free time on? Being different is our call to bring others to the Cross…because let’s get real…who wants to follow Jesus when there’s nothing different about His followers?
I think about that big, bold and beautiful autumn tree a lot. That’s what I want to look like. I’m a tree…a person like everyone else…but what’s inside of me is what changes how I look, act and speak. I do stick out from some of my fellow trees…but I hope and pray it’s the kind of difference that makes people long for my JESUS. I want my life to beckon others to look toward the God of the universe and be willing to follow Him as well. I want to be Beautifully Different.
What about you? I’d love to hear from you, friend. What are some ways you can be Beautifully Different and reflect JESUS in your daily life? Leave your comment below or shoot me an email from the Contact Page!
(This post originally posted on the Polished Cornerstones blog, October 25, 2015.)
A Place to Belong
Her words hung in the air. I have never heard a more poignant question that felt more like a statement. A verbal assessment of the condition of American Christianity.
I sat there and wept in conviction.
I’ve been in a lot of women’s prisons… and just when I thought I had heard the same things over and over, this woman blew my world to bits.
We were talking about being daughters of God. Pushing back the labels and choosing a different life because Jesus loves us and wants us. We were encouraging them to follow their Heavenly Father and pursue healing. We were also pressing the importance of being in community with other believers.
The Church is a big deal. It was designed by God on purpose for us to live in community with other Christians…that are redeemed and yet still flawed. There are no perfect churches and every gathering of believers will have some differences. However, as the Bride of Christ, we need to be meeting together and sharing with each other, keeping one another accountable and serving our broken world together.
It was in the middle of this talk about church community when her question split the room.
“Where do we go when no one wants us anymore?”
I choked.
The question seemed to stab me to the core. I sat there and watched this woman pleading with everything in her. She wanted to be free. She craved to belong. To be wanted by her own brothers and sisters in Christ. To be welcomed, even broken and empty.
I was totally stunned by her honesty and straight forwardness. Her question was not just a wondering of heart…it was also a statement to the condition of our American churches. She knew she wasn’t wanted by the typical Christian gathering. She could feel the wall between her and her fellow Christians…even though she was still in prison. Whoa. That was a hard pill to swallow.
It was obvious that the other women in the room resonated with her question. There was a low hum as her words gave them the courage to say what they were thinking. They were speaking out and pleading for a place to call home. They are making changes in their lives…but when they go home, they need a place to STAY DIFFERENT. When they can’t find a welcoming place, they often revert to the old friendships and places that led them to be incarcerated.
When did that happen? When did we start adding punishment to people’s current sentences? When did we become so self-righteous that we suddenly govern who can come through the doors of our churches?
I keep thinking… if these women aren’t welcome in the House of God, where on earth will they be invited? Perhaps our best candidates for church members sit behind prison walls…and we are too scared to invite them to join us. As if their belonging to us will taint us…when it will more often teach us. As if their stories are less palatable…when they are more powerful. As if they aren’t necessary to the Body of Christ when we actually need them desperately.
To belong is a powerful thing.
“Where do we go when no one wants us anymore?”
I don’t have a cookie-cutter answer for that. But I know this: we are all ex-offenders. You are. I am. Your pastor is. Every single one of us are undeserving of grace. So, what if we started living more like we are redeemed and serving a Rescuing God and less like we are the judge and jury?
That question still haunts me. I can see her face, tears rolling down her cheeks and the pleading in her eyes. “Where do we go when no one wants us anymore?”
What if YOU and I were meant to answer that question with the way we live our lives? What if we were the first person in our church to walk over to the new comer, regardless of their past…and tell them they BELONG. Welcoming the stranger, the ex-convict, the orphan and the broken-hearted into our churches is the heart of the Father. Jesus is about redemption, friends. I think it would be powerful if we started living like we believed it.
“I was a stranger and you welcomed me…” Matthew 25:35 NRSV
Of Weddings and Singleness…
This must be the year of weddings. I have eleven friends getting married in 2018. ELEVEN FRIENDS. For real, I’m not kidding. It’s as if love is in the air. But what do you do when everyone is “catching the bug” and you seem to be inoculated against it? It can be humorous or hurtful, depending on how you look at it.
I hear ya, friend. It’s whoa-fully obvious when you come to all your friends’ weddings alone…and did I mention that all eleven of those friends are a few years younger (or several!) than me? That makes a big shout out too. Here’s the thing…I mostly don’t notice it until someone mentions it to me (bless their hearts, those sweet people who feel they need to remind me).
Last month I turned 30 years old and from where I stand, I’m not heading to marriage any time soon. It makes for an interesting conversation when you go to weddings at my age without a ring on your finger, or without a guy…or a boyfriend. Top those odds with actually being a HAPPY SINGLE GIRL, and that’s just plain weird. I have to admit, sometimes I have fun with that one.
“Oh, Faith, do you have a man yet?” Clearly, no. Thank you very much. I forgot until you brought it up. I’m ever so glad you reminded me.
“Oh, you’re STILL single?” Ah. Gotta love that one. Definitely my fav.
“Aww. Faith, maybe you’ll be next.” That feels remotely like pity…or like I’m broken or messed up because of my singleness.
In short, well-meaning people say stupid things. Good people. People who are your friends. They just don’t know what it sounds like…or feels like, for that matter.
First off, single friends…we’ve ALL said stupid things. So, let’s cut these well-meaning people some slack. Give some grace. We all want a little growing room, so let’s be the first to give it. People generally don’t mean to treat you like you have a “condition”, they just want to say something, and they say the wrong thing. Mercy…I’ve done that myself plenty of times.
Back to weddings…because weddings are the best times to hear these lovely remarks.
Weddings are wonderful times. I love going to weddings. I really do. But they can also hold with them the familiar reminder that you are one of the few who are alone. You are the lone single, poking yourself into a million conversations and trying to find where you fit in. You are that single gal rocking someone’s baby to sleep while everyone else slow dances with their spouse. What’s a girl to do?
If ever there were a time that I see this clearly, it’s now. With a bunch of weddings under my belt already and several to go, I’m coming to grips with my singleness in a new way.
I want to be that mysterious single gal that is thoroughly enjoying all her friends’ weddings without one ounce of jealousy or envy. I want to be able to take complete joy in these events…never stopping for a moment to notice my lack of sameness with my married friends.
The truth is, there have been moments in the last year when I have been GLAD I was single at these weddings…because there needed to be an unmarried gal to be the gopher. I’ve got a few fun stories about being the single friend who got some crazy jobs…but I’ll save those for a different day.
I have atleast two favorite moments at every wedding…the first is always when the bride walks down the isle. This reminds me that one day, my Heavenly Groom is coming for me and I can’t wait to catch a glimpse of His face. He continues to pursue my heart, day after day, patiently and weddings remind me of His steadfast love.
The second moment is when the bride and groom are announced as the new Mr. and Mrs. It’s just a crazy amazing thing that a covenant just happened between God, a man and his wife. Beautiful pictures of grace and faithfulness.
Sometimes there are multiple moments at any given wedding that will go down in my memory as favorites. Like when the kiddos in a wedding go screaming down the isle or decide to take their shoes off and throw them during the ceremony. It’s just the unpredictable and hilarious part of friends getting married.
Yes, I go to weddings with JOY. I rock the babies to sleep. I laugh with everyone. I clap like crazy at the announcement of a new couple. And I dance with the littlest people who need a partner. That’s what you do when all your friends are getting married…and you’re not. It’s okay. That’s what happy single girls do.
Vulnerability and Transparency
Two powerful words. Two ways to powerfully live out our Christian faith in a curious world. What makes this Jesus so amazing?
In another layer of the discussion on authenticity, this video will help talk through vulnerability and transparency and what that looks like in the life of a believer.
(Note: this video was originally shot for the purpose of prison ministry training, but applies to all of life!)
Living Brave and Courageous 