The Easy Way Out

Have you ever tried to take the easy way out? I have a doozy for you! About a year ago we moved to a new house, and with the house came a dishwasher! All the angels sang and heaven rejoiced with me! For 12 years I went without a dishwasher while I was at home with my three young babies. To say I was delighted about my new dishwasher would be the understatement of my life. I was thrilled. It made kitchen clean up so much easier and so much faster! Just pop those dishes in, press a button, and voila! – clean dishes! Unspeakable JOY!

Until one day I tried to take the easy way out, and I made a horrible error.

Since we have 5 acres now, I was able to plant a much bigger garden last summer, and I branched out in my canning selections. I made tomato sauce for the first time this summer. (And boy wasn’t THAT a learning experience!) It sure does make a mess! I have this nifty little machine called a Victorio Strainer – just put the tomatoes in the top, turn the crank, and sauce comes down the shoot, while seeds and skins funnel out the end into a waste bowl. It makes sauce as easy as sauce can be (which, to be honest, is not terribly easy, but it sure helps!). As you can imagine, the strainer is a mess when I get finished putting the tomatoes through. There’s tomato puree stuck in every crevice. The BEST remedy is to use a stiff bristle bottle brush to push the remainder of the puree, seeds, and skins out of the places that it shouldn’t be into the trash, then to do that again under running water. But this process is still messy, and can make a bigger mess of the sink and counter, and my HANDS. It’s not my favorite part of the job.

So, after a particularly grueling and difficult sauce making session, I decided to take the easy way out. I shook the strainer pieces out into the trashcan, and then I threw them all into the dishwasher. To my delight, it came out pretty clean. I cleaned up the areas that needed a little attention and put the pieces way, not giving another thought to what I had done, and secretly delighted at how much easier the clean up process had been.

But, OH, what a horrible error. 

Soon after, I began noticing some residue on my clean dishes coming out of the dishwasher. I noticed little pink or red flecks on glasses, sometimes in bowls, and then in the kids cups and plastic dishes. I thought to myself, “What is going on? This dishwasher is not very old… Is it just less efficient than I thought it was? Is this really what having a dishwasher is?” My hopes were dashed and my spirits sank. It’s not the miracle machine I thought it was going to be. I tried various soaps and things, asked friends about their dishwashers, meanwhile I did not make any connection between the red residue and the horrible tomato mess that I had placed into the dishwasher when I tried to take the easy way out.

This went on for months.  Finally, my husband Andrew asked me if I had put something into the dishwasher that could perhaps have made a mess, which was now being sprayed all over our dishes every day. And that’s when the light went on. My tomato-covered Victorio Strainer. I knew then what the answer was: I had to clean the dishwasher. My fifteen-minute quick fix cost me (and my amazingly gracious husband) over four hours of cleaning. We had to disassemble everything inside the dishwasher that we could. We had to clean inside inaccessible pieces and parts that were now coated with a thick rubbery pink substance. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to clean the inside of a dishwasher sprayer, but wow. It is long, relatively flat, and hollow on the inside, with one hole for the water to be pumped in, and a dozen or so tiny holes on the other side for the water to be sprayed out onto the dishes. It’s all one piece, and the inside was entirely coated with the goo. Oh, and there are two of these, one for each rack of the dishwasher. We swished water around. We blew in the holes. We covered certain holes to create pressure in the other holes to blow the gunk out. We took tweezers to the tiny holes to pull out strings of pink goo. And then we used them on the tiny in-between spaces that were filled with dried red gunk too. We cleaned the drain. We scrubbed the walls. We took the racks outside to spray them off (in the winter!). Oh, the horror.

It is safe to say that I will never do that again. I mean, I may need to clean out my dishwasher in the future, but I will never again put that kind of mess into the machine. I took the easy way out, and it ended up costing me months of dirty dishes, not to mention frustration, plus hours of cleaning the machine.

Why do I tell this harrowing tale today? Because I think we often try to take the easy way out with our faith. We maybe don’t want to put the work in initially that we ought to, and we pay for it with nasty residue on every surface of our life afterwards. When I’m tempted to take the easy road, I often tell myself, “Tomorrow’s Catherine will thank you for doing this today.” It helps me with tasks that are less than desirable, but truly need to be accomplished for the best outcome.

In learning to yield to the Holy Spirit, I’m finding there are many times he asks me to do things that seem hard. Maybe it’s exercising self-control when I’m ready to blow. Maybe it’s choosing faith when I’m being swallowed by fear, standing up to the devil when he wants to keep me immobilized through fear. Maybe it’s stepping out of my comfort zone into new ministry or a moment of ministry I wasn’t expecting. Maybe it’s true repentance and freedom from a sin I’ve been entangled in for too long. Sometimes these things feel too hard. And it feels easier to continue in my sin or spiral. It feels easier not to leave my comfort zone. But the easy way, the path of least resistance, isn’t always the best path. When we take the easy road, there’s always a cost.

A friend of mine recently shared this on social media: “Strangely, life gets harder when you try to make it easy. Exercising might be hard, but never moving makes life harder. Uncomfortable conversations are hard, but avoiding every conflict is harder. Mastering your craft is hard, but having no skills is harder. Easy has a cost.”

Whatever hard thing you are facing today, please know that you can do hard things. One of my favorite verses to dwell on when I’m feeling powerless for a situation or task comes from Romans 8:11. It reminds me that the same Spirit that raised Jesus Christ from the dead is now living in me. There is nothing too difficult for my God (Jeremiah 32:27), and he has placed his Spirit inside of me. With the help of his Spirit, we can do all things (Philippians 4:13).

I’m exceedingly thankful today that Jesus did not take the easy way out. In the garden when he prayed before his arrest, he asked his Father if there was any other way. God’s love for humankind was so incredible that he did not spare his own Son. There was not an easy way out. And so Jesus walked every excruciating step of his hard path. He did it for me and for you. The next time I want to resist his Spirit’s nudge in me to do something out of my comfort zone, I will remember that my Jesus did the hardest thing for me, and so I can do hard things too when I walk with him.

 

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Rooted

I came into this Easter season feeling really heavy. We were dealing with sickness of all kinds in my home (my kids and myself). The weather has been ridiculously uncooperative – is it ever going to get warm!? How many snows have we seen this April?! The grief triggers I wrote about last month seemed to restart my grieving process all over again, and none of the aforementioned circumstances have helped my mood. I haven’t been able to shake the heaviness. The characters in the Easter story that I could relate the most to this year have been the disciples on the day after Jesus’ died. Confused. Disappointed. Grieving. Doubting. I wasn’t experiencing the usual joy that accompanies the spring season and especially the Easter holiday. I’m not sure why I feel so compelled to put all this out there. It’s personal and not particularly fun to expose or dwell on. But it feels necessary because I suspect I’m not alone. I know very few people who haven’t been affected by loss, deep and personal, over the last two years. Maybe I’m not the only one who is still feeling heavy at times? Once again my little plants spoke to me in my heaviness.

I was moving some sunflower sprouts with my youngest daughter because they were needing a taller container to support their stems. (Note: sunflowers do not love growing in a greenhouse tent as much as they love growing in the SUN. But that’s a whole other blog post.) As we moved the little sprouts, Hannah was amazed to see that there was as much plant under the soil as there was on top of the soil. There was actually probably more under the soil than on top. She exclaimed, “Woah, Mom! Look at that long stringy white part” as she saw the root emerge completely from the soil during one transplant. I was even amazed at its length! I explained to her that while we saw the stem and the leaves emerging on top of the soil, that the important work was really happening under the surface. When we watered the transplant, I told her that the roots needed the water, not the leaves, and I explained how the leaves’ job was to draw in sunlight for energy. But just like the water, it was the roots that needed the sun’s energy to grow the plant. Foundation is everything.

The same is true for you and me. Our foundation is everything. We need to have our feet firmly planted in the truth of God’s Word so that when the difficult times comes, we can stand through the power of the Holy Spirit and not crumble to our doubts, emotions, and circumstances. So I thought on what Scripture would speak to my grieving heart.

Here is what I am standing on, and if you are grieving, I invite you to join me in standing here:

Jesus said: “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25)

Me and my daddy just before my baptism on Easter Sunday, 1995

Jesus was speaking to Martha, a grieving sister and close friend of Jesus, about the death of her brother Lazarus. I’m especially struck by Jesus’ question to her at the end of the verse. “Do you believe this?” That’s the key. Jesus is plainly stating the truth, but the choice us up to Martha, and up to you and me, to believe or not.

Death and belief feel like oil and water to me right now. Death is just a tricky topic to process. Our eyes tell us one thing; and our spirit wants to tell us another. When I lost my dad, I certainly came to a full stop at a canyon in my faith. I’ve come to a lot of these canyons in my life – when my mom battled cancer, quitting my teaching career to stay at home with my babies, the season when my husband was unemployed, many different doctors, tests, and diagnoses for Sophie. But none gave me pause the way my dad’s death did. I’ve always been able to take the leap of faith required, but this time felt different. My reality is that he is gone. There is loss, there is a hole now in my life. It has taken a much bigger leap of faith to look at that gaping chasm, that death, and to say, “Death is a lie. Jesus is the resurrection and the life.” But I believe – yes, I believe – that this is the true reality, beyond what my eyes can see.

In the last 18 months I have prayed many times the prayer of the father in Mark 9 who desires healing for his son, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (v 24) Without my foundation being God’s Word, I know that I would be truly lost right now. But because of it, I can continue to stand on the truth, even when my feelings (and my eyes!) tell me something else is true.

Not only do the sunflower roots remind me of my foundation, they also remind me that there is much going on that we cannot see. Even in the seasons where we feel heavy, where we mourn, where we doubt or lose hope, God is still busy growing and building things in us. It’s ok for us to feel our losses and have seasons of mourning – they do not negate our faith.  There are many accounts in the Bible of times of mourning.

The day after Jesus’ death, I feel certain that the disciples had, for the moment, lost their hope. Our pastor pointed out on Easter Sunday that evidence of this is seen in the fact that no one shows up to the tomb on the third day waiting for Jesus to rise from the dead, even though he told them plainly that he would. They were confused, lost, doubtful, and hopeless. Because they didn’t believe what he had said.

But this did not negate what Jesus was accomplishing while he was in the tomb! Even in their doubts, he was still at work! Even in our dark times, Jesus is still working, still growing those unseen roots.

This brings me back to Jesus’ question to Martha: “Do you believe this?” By the power of the Holy Spirit, we can choose belief, we can choose faith, we can trust God’s Word, even when all seems dark, lost, and hopeless. This is our foundation, our roots, our firm place to stand when circumstances are falling out all around us. Just like those sunflower roots growing under the surface, we can know there is spiritual work happening even in the dark times if we keep standing firm in what we know to be true.

I don’t know what heaviness you are carrying with you today, but I encourage you to find out what the Bible says about it and to choose belief. Choose to be rooted in the truth of God’s Word, and trust that he is doing much in the unseen places.

 

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Leaning Toward the Light

Spring, as they say, has sprung here in Ohio. Although it is currently 35 degrees with snow flurries, the trees are budding, the daffodils are up, and new life is sprouting everywhere. I love spring. I’m a gardener at heart – I love digging, planting, growing, all of it. So when the ten day forecast starts showing warmer days and nights, I get excited about starting seeds. This year my hubby (bless him) encouraged me to purchase a greenhouse tent so that I could start seeds earlier. Perhaps he also did not want our bay window converted into a growing space? Either way, back in February I purchased my little tent. I counted the days until I could start my seeds. I even loaded up the cart inside the tent with soil-filled seed trays so that I could gauge the temperature fluctuations inside the tent from the peak of the day when the sunshine beats down, to the chill of the early mornings in spring. My research told me to keep biding my time, that it was too soon to start seeds in the tent. So I started some inside my house.  Just three little pots to keep me going until I could load up those readied seed trays. Every day I’ve checked them and made sure the soil was damp. I’ve moved them around on the bay window throughout the day to ensure optimum sun exposure. I feel a little crazy now that I write this all down. But two of my three little pots rewarded my gardening addiction and sent sprouts right up! (Here’s looking at you Zinnias and Bachelor’s Buttons! Lavender, get your act together please!) One day when I was checking on my sweet plant babies, I found the most spectacular sight. They were all leaning towards the light. Check it out!

These little guys are leaning with all they have to get closer to that sunshine. I love it! Besides being adorably cute, it also hit me on a spiritual level.

I’ve had kind of a dark week or two. There were some triggers this week for my grief over my dad’s death. Grief is weird and hard to talk about and different for every person carrying it. There have been some new losses to carry, too. I’m also in a really poor sleep pattern right now (because… kids) and it’s catching up with me. Plus, we have had to make some difficult decisions regarding Sophie’s therapy, medication, and care. Just heavy stuff. I’ve felt heavy.

But part of the way I’ve chosen to live my life (which may stand in stark contrast to the way the world operates) is not to let my feelings dictate my life or what I perceive to be truth. Despite this perspective, I could feel the tailspin coming as I battled my feelings. (For the record, I’m not suggesting that anyone ignore or stuff their feelings. Feelings are valid. And it’s fine to feel them. But I do not wish to live my life controlled by my feelings.) I’ve been desperately seeking, in the midst of a whole mess of feelings, to fix my eyes on Jesus and to plant my feet on the truth of His Word.

Those little plants remind me: Lean towards the light.

In John 8:12, Jesus is recorded as saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” Yes to this. Let me follow Jesus’ light every day over the darkness of my feelings. I know that Jesus, the Light of the World, is the source of my life, just like those plants know that the light is what will help them keep on living.

I am not seeking Jesus just to feel better; I’m seeking him to be better, to grow better. Through the mess and muddle of my feelings, I’ve heard a few truths quite clearly that maybe some of you need to hear in your current mess and muddle.

1 – God sees you.

2 – God sees your children.

3 – All the mess, God has it. He’s in control.

4 – He chose YOU for “this” (whatever that may be for you)

5 – God will ONLY do what is GOOD for you and me.

Let’s let those truths shine on us and penetrate the dark places where we feel heavy. Lean towards the Light. Jesus is constant, unchanging, always ready to bring his life-giving power to our lives.

Lean into the Light and breathe easy, friend.

 

 

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Sophie’s Story: Through the Lens of Love

My nighttime Bible reading recently took me into the book of Ruth. I love a good story, and Ruth is no exception. On top of being a beautiful literary account, I love the symbolism that is found in the story. We, of course, are Ruth, in a helpless state, until Boaz, our redeemer, Christ Jesus, comes to redeem us as his bride.

This time through the story, I was particularly struck by Naomi’s character. Ten years of her life are covered in just a few short verses. Maybe it was that ten-year mark that caught my eye, since we recently celebrated Sophie’s 10th birthday, and ten years of our journey in special needs parenting. When you’re reflecting on an era of ten hard years, you can feel how long this decade was for Naomi. Here’s a quick recap of her decade in case you don’t know the story. Strap in; it’s intense!

·      She left her homeland because of famine. (That’s rough all on its own.)

·      While she was sojourning in a foreign country, her husband passed away. (Heartbreaking grief.)

·      On top of all that, her two sons also die while she is in the land of Moab. (I cannot fathom the loss and grief that Naomi must have carried. It is soul-crushing.)

Ten years go by in the land of Moab. She’s alone with only her daughters-in-law, probably wondering what in the world she did to bring this on herself. Now, husbandless and sonless, she decides to return to her homeland, Judah. She tries to release her daughters-in-law to return to their households so that they can start fresh and have a new life. A hope and a future. Children. But of Ruth does not return to her home and swears to remain with Naomi, covenanting with her for all her days.

When Naomi returns to Judah, imagine the stir in the neighborhood. Her grief, no doubt, has aged her. No one there knows what has happened to her family. There were no text messages or social media posts detailing her losses in Moab. When they greet her by her given name, Naomi, she responds, “Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty” (Ruth 1:20). Phew. What a staggering synopsis of her last ten years. Naomi is embittered, emptied, and a shell of who she once was.

Can anybody relate?

Whether you’re reflecting on the last decade, the last couple of years (hello, pandemic), or just the past few months, I know we all have seasons where we feel just like Naomi felt – mistreated by God, bitter, bereft, empty. The new name that Naomi has chosen for herself, Mara, means bitter. It is the essence of who she is now.

Oh but Naomi cannot indeed see the whole story. I’ve read the whole book of Ruth, and I know that all God stripped away from Naomi, he returned in greater abundance. All the sorrow that he allowed was from a heart of love. Because in Judah, Ruth was redeemed by a kinsman, Boaz, who gave her a son, Obed, who in turn had a son named Jesse, who was the father of King David, the greatest king of Israel. Beyond that, Ruth’s genealogy is traced down to Christ Jesus himself. While Naomi did lose a husband and two sons, she was granted a position in the lineage of Jesus Christ the Messiah!

Hindsight is always 20/20 right?

But oh that we could learn to view life as it happens through the lens of love. Whatever hard things God has allowed into our lives, he allows from a heart of love.

As we muddle through our life parenting a child with a disability and doing our best to raise two typical children in a very non-typical family, it can be easy to feel heavy. We continue to struggle to find a way to help Sophie sleep through the night, and it affects all of us. We are often physically so very tired. Literally weary. There are times where the struggle is so intense, and it feels unending, hopeless. But these are the times where, if I notice, I find that my eyes are on my circumstances, and not on the loving nature of my God.  There is loss and grief in a life touched by disability. But my prayer is that I not allow myself to so misinterpret my circumstances to think that God has dealt bitterly with me. I choose to believe that God is always kind and that he always acts from a heart of love. I am living his best plan for me. There is life here, growth and goodness to be found. If I choose to look through the lens of love.

I don’t know what your circumstances are that tempt you to despair or to feel that God has dealt bitterly with you. But today I want to encourage you to look at your life through the lens of love. Whatever he has allowed to be stripped away, like Naomi’s loss of her entire family, God intends to restore to you. If not here on earth, certainly in heaven, all will be made whole, and right. Whatever difficult things He has allowed in your life, He fully intends to use for good as part of his perfect plan. I pray you receive these words as the Word of God, and not as cliché “band aid” type statements. These are God’s promises to you, and you can stand on them when it is difficult to see his love through the pain of your circumstances.

As the book of Ruth closes, the townswomen say to Naomi, “Blessed be the Lord who has not left you this day without a redeemer, and may his name be renowned in Israel! He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age.” (Ruth 4:14) Today may you find through the lens of love that God has not left YOU without a redeemer, that he shall be to YOU a restorer of LIFE, and a NOURISHER to your soul, no matter where in the journey you are.

 

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A Decade of Sophie

My sweet Sophie turns 10 years old this weekend. It’s hard to wrap my head around. As this milestone quickly approached, it has caused me to reflect a lot on the last decade. Ten years. Ten years since our special needs journey began. I wish I could say it has gotten easier. And I suppose in some ways it has. But in many ways, it only grows more challenging as she ages. In the last ten years, I have seen in myself some of the most epic failures as a mom because it all just became too much for me. But the view from this ten years’ precipice is a breathtaking view of God’s grace, of growth, and of so much LIFE born from our struggle. There is beauty and goodness and a depth to my faith that would not exist without this journey.

 

So this I will say to you today as I reflect on our decade: Allow your struggles to draw you closer to Christ. He is right by your side. His hand is yours to take. He longs to walk WITH you. He longs for you to grow through your struggles, if you will choose to do so.

 

Faith alone has led me through the past ten years. It guides me today. And it holds all my tomorrows. Faith in the One who never changes with every sunrise and sunset, with every meltdown and medication change.

 

The Refiner’s fire is HOT. Don’t mistake that. We feel the heat in our struggles. But those times in the furnace are creating such BEAUTY in our lives. Truly, if not for all that I have grown through in Sophie’s journey, I would not be where I am today. The faith that comes through in my writing has been grown on this journey. The heart that I share here on my blog is a heart led by a good Father through many difficult days, months, years.

 

As I returned to writing at the close of last year, God gave me a verse as a purpose for my writing. It has always been the reason that I write, but this brought new clarity to the fact that my writing is HIS, for his glory.

 

“You are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.” (2 Corinthians 3:3)

 

God is writing the story of his love for me on my heart through our journey with Sophie. God is showing me his great power through my great weakness. And my life is a letter for others, I hope showing them the way to follow Christ.  So if you are struggling today, think about where you might be a decade from now if you take Christ’s hand and say yes to what Jesus has for you in the journey. Yes, there is pain and heat, but there is SO MUCH LIFE, for you and for others who walk with you.

 

Here is a highlight reel of ten years of beauty. There were many difficult moments in between, but allow these to stand as evidence of a good, loving, faithful God who can grow your faith through any struggle.

 

Just hours old

 

2 months old

 

5 months old

 

8 months old

 

Sophie’s First Birthday. She was so sick 🙁

 

First time swimming in the baby pool

 

Almost 2 and LOVING the snow!

 

Welcoming her role as Big Sister

 

Cheeser

 

Turning 3, Sophie was still wordless at this point in her life, but she was quickly learning American Sign Language!

 

Too adorable!

 

Sophie on her 4th birthday. She picked her outfit!

 

5 years old, in a beautiful butterfly dress from her grandparents, symbolizing her growth and beauty!

 

Easter, 5 years old.

 

Becoming a big sister for the second time. Hannah was born in the middle of the night. When she woke up and Andrew told her that Hannah had come, she said, like a perfect grown up, “Well, that is exciting news!”

 

Matching sissies. Hannah is still one of Sophie’s best friends!

 

Last day of school, 6 years old

 

Sophie’s 7th birthday

 

Last day of kindergarten

 

Sophie’s 8th birthday

 

9 years old. So grown up!

 

Just a few days shy of 10, celebrating Valentine’s Day with the Girl Scout troop

Sophie is now in 3rd grade at our local school district. She lovingly calls the Principal, “my best friend.” She is surrounded by a fantastic team of professionals who ADORE her and are always working hard and thinking creatively to help her reach her potential. She is growing a ton this year academically and socially! She has a best friend, and can often be found surrounded by a group of her peers. Her teacher has done an excellent job of fostering empathy in the classroom. As Sophie grows, some of her differences become more evident, but her classmates care for her so well. I am so incredibly thankful for this.

 

Last spring we added epilepsy to our long list of diagnoses after Sophie suffered multiple seizures one morning. Since starting medication, she has not had any more seizures. I am so thankful that her epilepsy has been easily managed thus far.

 

Less easily managed are ADHD and anxiety. Can I get an amen?! We are still working closely with her pediatrician to find the right combo of medicines to help our sweetie sleep well every night and combat these two giants in her life.

 

I don’t know what our year ahead will hold, but I do know the One who is holding our every moment. Looking back over this decade as a whole, I am more thankful than ever that God chose me to be Sophie’s mom. Although there is a lot of hard, there is so much growth, so much life that has come through her journey. Take time to reflect on your own journey today. God is doing amazing things if you take the time to see them.

 

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Help, I Can’t See!

 

Winter driving. It’s a whole thing. Snow. Ice. Slush. And don’t forget the lovely salt/dirt combo that coats every car traveling winter roadways in Ohio. What a mess! Thank goodness for windshield washer fluid! Have you ever been out driving on slushy roads and run out of washer fluid? It is quite possibly one of the worst things that can happen. I don’t know if it’s just me or if everyone is VERY bothered by looking through that nasty dry mud/saltwater combo that dries on the windshield. It drives me nuts. Last week I ran out of fluid while I was out, and I didn’t have any in the car. I knew we had some at home, and I planned to ask the hubby about refilling it when we got home. But I forgot… until the next morning, when we were rushing off to school, late of course. No time to stop for washer fluid. So, I had to drive around with a dirty windshield for most of the day.

As I struggled to peer through my dirty window while driving on an especially bright, sunny day, I thought about the things in life that can cloud proper vision. For me, most often it’s my feelings that cloud my judgment. Sometimes it’s fear. Sometimes it’s anxiety. Often, it’s past hurts. All these things can color the way we see what’s coming at us in life. They keep us from seeing clearly; they distort our view of events and circumstances, just like a dirty windshield in the car on a bright sunny day. It’s hard to see clearly through all that grime, whether it’s made of salt and mud, or wild emotions.

This is why God’s Word is so vital to us. We need the eyes of our hearts enlightened (Eph 1:18) so that our perceptions are not colored only by our emotional responses. Time in God’s Word keeps me seeing clearly. Psalm 119:105 says “Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.” When I spend time in the Word, I can have my vision cleared so that I can see people and situations the way God sees them. Yes, he gave us feelings to guide us, but we must always remember that even though the world encourages us to follow our hearts, the Bible says in Jeremiah 17:9 “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” When feelings arise, it is so important to recognize them and unpack where they are coming from. But it is equally important to take our thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). If my feelings don’t align with what God’s Word says is true, then I cling to his word and tell my feelings to pipe down!

May the eyes of our hearts be enlightened today as we seek to look at life through the lens of God’s Word, and not through the dirty windshield of our past experiences and emotions.

 

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Around the Mountain

 

I have a four-year-old in my home who is struggling greatly with obedience. I’m realizing that obedience comes easily for some people, but not as easily for others. I am fully confident that God created her strong nature in preparation for the life he has planned for her. It will serve her well. But it must be harnessed.

One of the daily battles we have with our spitfire is at mealtimes. She does not want to eat. She wants to be babied and be fed. She has figured out that there is a system of rewards and consequences in our home, and she often tries to barter for rewards at mealtimes. Unfortunately, she has not yet realized that she doesn’t actually hold any bargaining chips in the family. Obedience would be what would actually yield the result she is seeking.

One recent conversation went like this:

“Mom, can I have hot chocolate for lunch?”

“If you show me that you can eat your food then maybe you could earn some hot chocolate.”

“But Mom, I promise that I will be good, and I will eat my food.”

“That’s not the way a reward works, sweetie. First you have to show me, then you get the reward.”

This of course was followed by pouting, and subsequent whining at the table. So you see, had I given her the reward right away, before the proof of her behavior, I would have been duped. Because she did not intend to follow through on her promise. I mean, she is four.

But this got me thinking. There are certain regards of my relationship with my children that are non-negotiable. I will always love them. I will always do my best to provide for them. I will instruct them. I will help them grow. I do these things regardless of how they are behaving. But there are other aspects to our relationship that vary based on them, based on what they show me by their actions.

The other day, my son, seeing that I was once again cleaning up the house all by myself (he watched me do this a lot over Christmas break), decided that he was going to help me. He put away toys that he hadn’t gotten out or played with, he offered to sweep both the wood floors and the carpets. He wasn’t asking for anything or trying to earn anything from me. But his actions, which were so kind and thoughtful, did return a reward for him in the form of a handful of gummy bears in the bottom of his snack cup.

When my children demonstrate obedience, along with trustworthiness, respect, care for another, love, etc, I love to reward them.

When I think of this in terms of my faith, I know that there are things about my relationship with God that are the same non-negotiables as I have with my kids. He will always love me, protect me, provide for me, and care for me, no matter how I am behaving. My salvation is secure in him because I chose to believe. However, as a growing Christian, I have to realize that my actions, not my promises to act, return rewards. This is the essence of living by faith. Faith in action unlocks the door to more abundant blessing God longs to unleash in our lives.

But we have to DO it.

Sometimes there are things that I feel God asking me to do, and I tell him I will do them, but then I don’t follow through. It’s like Hannah at mealtime. There’s one thing in particular right now that I’m feeling him nudging me to do, but I keep making excuses about how I don’t feel I’m capable, or especially that I don’t have enough time. It will stretch me too thin, thinner than I’m comfortable with. That, I suppose, is exactly the point. It will be action taken in faith, the assurance of something hoped for but not seen (Hebrews 11).  God will have to supply the result if I begin by taking the first steps.

As I consider obedience in this area of my life, I hear God answering my excuses: “You don’t need more time; you need more trust.”

I don’t know what thing God may be calling you into, or what your excuse to put him off has been. But whatever it is, you probably don’t need more of what you think you do – time or resources or whatever. You probably need more trust. God’s going to come through for us when we take that step of faith. He longs to reward us when we act in obedience to him (with more than a handful of gummy bears in our snack cup, enticing as that may be for some of us!).

One of my favorite stories of obedience in the Bible is of Philip in the book of Acts when he’s told to go and talk to the Ethiopian eunuch. Acts 8 says this: The Spirit told Philip, ‘Go to that chariot and stay near it.’ Then Philip ran up to the chariot and heard the man reading Isaiah the prophet” (29-30). The story ends with Philip explaining the gospel to this man, who receives salvation and is baptized. Philip’s obedience resulted in a life changed for eternity!

What about this ordinary passage has always impressed me? Philip RAN. He felt the Spirit of God nudging him into something, and he took off running in that direction. I may not struggle with obedience like my four-year-old, but I also don’t RUN into it like Philip. If he hadn’t run, he would’ve missed the opportunity. And this is what I feel like I’ve been doing lately – missing a bunch of opportunities because I’m waiting on my life and my circumstances to make something easier for me to accomplish. I’m running alright, but in the wrong direction! Just like my little Hannah, I’m bartering, promising, and excusing. But I’m not doing the one thing I really need to do – and that’s obeying. I feel a little like the Israelites in the wilderness: “Then the Lord said to me [Moses], ‘You have been traveling around this mountain long enough. Turn…’” (Deut 2:3). It’s time to turn. Quit spinning my wheels. Quit wandering around and around the mountain. It’s time to obey, to take the step of faith. I don’t know what your mountain is, but I hope you are ready to join me in taking an active step of faith into obedience.

 

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Good News!

 

We’re closing out another difficult year. So many people have experienced so much loss. Maybe like me you are entering 2022 with some feelings of trepidation. What trials will the new year hold? Who will be lost in the coming year? How much more sadness and loss can I endure? Was this my last Christmas with So and So? Will this dreadful pandemic ever end?  I have to imagine I’m not alone in these fears and question marks. The good little Christian in me knows in my head that that’s not how I’m supposed to live. But the losses lately have been so staggering – it’s not normal to lose count of the number of people you know personally who have died this year, let alone those your friends have lost in addition. It’s hard to see a bright new year in the midst of so much turmoil.

As I sat in church for the final Sunday of 2021, anxious fears looming in my vision, I listened to extremely familiar words in a brand new way. I memorized these words along with my first grade class 30 years ago! I’ve heard them dozens of times every Christmas season every single one of my 38 years. But they came alive in this moment.

“But the angel said to them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people.’” (Luke 2:10)

While the pastor was emphasizing the reality that this good news is for all people, I heard three distinctive phrases that should mark out my perspective for 2022:

Fear not.

Good news.

Great joy.

I love that this verse begins with a “but.” It indicates that the statements coming are contrary to what has come before. Given the circumstances the shepherds were experiencing in Luke 2, there was definitely cause for concern, trepidation, anxious feelings. They were out on an ordinary evening, in the dark wilderness, watching their sheep when BAM. Bright sky full of singing angels. I can only imagine shouts of “What is going on?!” We don’t often stop to put ourselves in their shoes and imagine what that must have been like.

But. The crucial turning point. Our circumstances may be unnerving, even terrifying. But God says, “Fear not.” These words resonate in my fearful heart. Fear should not dominate my view of 2022. Why not?

Good news.

The good news of Christmas is a great launching pad for the coming year. Simply put, we don’t have to live in fear of the next crisis because of Jesus. Yes, the next crisis will come. But the good news of Jesus changes everything. His birth, life, and death and resurrection, offer HOPE for those who believe that far outweighs the next crisis. Life is hard. Our world is broken. But there is good news. We can lift our eyes above and beyond the troubling circumstances of our world and walk forward into this new year with our gaze fully fixed on that good news and the One who brings it. This brings us to ….

Great joy.

When we trust God fully, we can walk forward in joyful assurance, knowing that we are LOVED beyond our understanding. Knowing that He has our back; we walk in His power. Knowing that He is both GOOD and SOVEREIGN. There’s nothing outside his control. And there’s nothing he’ll allow that isn’t the very best for us. Even our trials. And we know that heaven and eternity awaits. We can’t lose sight of the big picture.

This is the launching point I want to be leaping from into the new year.

Fear not.

Good news.

Great joy.

As a loving mother, I can’t imagine how hurt I would feel if my children expressed concerns or fear to me about how I was going to care for them this coming year. I’m a flawed human being, but I would do everything within my power to ensure that they are safe, nurtured, growing, loved and cared for in every way. How much more does our Heavenly Father have good plans to care for us in this coming year? He’s way more perfect than I could ever be as a parent.

He lifts our chin and captures our gaze like we sometimes do with our children. His message is the same all these years later. Look up and hear: Fear not. Good news. Great joy.

 

 

 

 

 

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Sophie’s Story: When Your Parachute Doesn’t Open

 

Skydiving is something that I hope I never have to do. For many people, it’s on their bucket list, something they want to check off while they’re on this earth. But not me. I don’t really even like flying, let along leaping from a plane aloft. No thank you.

 

This week I was listening to a testimony of an Ohio athlete, and she compared following Jesus to skydiving. My mind quickly began processing this idea – one thing I very much love (Jesus), paired with something else that at the very least I have no interest in, and at greatest, terrifies me beyond reason. I don’t want them to be the same!

 

But, here’s the thing – she’s right. Following Jesus is in some ways like leaping from a plane because it takes faith. Faith that the parachute will open. Faith that Jesus will rescue you.

 

Sometimes we let the bad things that happen to us in life convince us that Jesus has allowed our parachute not to open, and that he’s allowed us to spiral towards the ground and go splat. Pain. Destruction. Ruin. Rejection. Illness. Disability. Death.

 

But the more life I experience, the more I realize that Jesus never lets that happen. In fact, sometimes the very awful things that we walk through are the parachute of his rescue. You see, Jesus is not so much concerned with our comfort and our happiness; he’s concerned with our character and with our eternity. And he uses every single difficulty that we encounter on this earth to redeem and rescue our souls.

 

The story of Joseph is a testament to this truth. I cannot imagine literally being sold off by my brothers as a slave to a foreign nation. (Thanks for never doing that, bro!) I cannot imagine being wrongly accused of so much and imprisoned for years because of it. Oh, the injustice! Why is Joseph not an angry and cynical being?! After all the years of Joseph’s struggle, when he finally reconciles with his brothers, he says this:

 

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20)

 

Joseph had to have felt like his life was one failed parachute moment after another! Yet he chose to see the good that God was doing in the midst of all of it.

 

When my daughter was diagnosed with autism, I very much felt like my parachute had not opened, like God had not come through for me. But as I have walked this journey with her, I can agree with Joseph, that “God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done,” and maybe even I would go so far as to say for “the saving of many lives.” Sophie’s disability has opened doors for me to ministry that I never would have imagined for myself. In many ways, I am who I am because of who she is, and I am doing what I’m doing because of her life and how God is using all of that to shape me. That doesn’t make it an easy journey, but then, I don’t think easy is really the point.

I’m honestly not sure what kind of a person I would be if it wasn’t for my difficult life experiences. In every moment that we feel like we are spiraling toward the ground, and the parachute isn’t going to open, we have a choice. We can choose cynicism, anger, fear, doubt. Or we can choose trust. We can choose faith. We can stand on the promise that God is working for our good, even when it is impossibly difficult to see it. And not just for our good, but for his bigger picture good, for his story, for “the saving of many lives.”

 

 

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A Walk in the Dark

 

Have you ever lost something extremely important or valuable? Misplaced items is one of my husband’s pet peeves. It makes him crazy! I can’t say it’s a good feeling in my mind, either. I realize my limits when something is lost, because I can’t find it. No amount of wanting to find it will make it appear to me. I feel powerless to locate the item, no matter if it’s important or insignificant. I am limited, because I don’t know where it is.

 

One of the items that seems to often go missing in our house is our three-year-old Hannah’s lovey, “Nini.” And she’s always lost at bedtime. There have been numerous times that Andrew and I have torn the house apart searching for Nini, sometimes for hours, while a distraught Hannah waits in her bed for her beloved blankie to be found.

Last week Nini was lost at bedtime, and as we retraced our steps through the day to try and remember the last time we saw her, I recalled seeing Hannah take her outside. Into the darkness I went in search of Nini, even though Andrew had already looked there. We had searched the house high and low for nearly an hour, so I figured a second look outside was permissible, and the urgency to locate her was quite real in my heart.

 

 

Out there in the quiet darkness of the night as I walked my yard, God’s presence felt so much more tangible than in the hustle and bustle of the day full of many distractions. As I searched, God called to mind several passages and parables of lost items from the Bible. But the one that stood out boldest in my mind was this:

 

“You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jer 29:13)

 

I was searching for Nini with all my heart, with an urgency that I rarely feel when seeking the Lord. Yet, how much more valuable is his kingdom and his wisdom? Jesus teaches several parables on the worth of his kingdom in the gospels.

 

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.” (Matt 13:45-46)

 

All he had, friends! He sold all he had. His whole life didn’t compare to that pearl! We should be seeking Jesus and his kingdom with all that we have, because nothing on this earth compares with him.

 

How many worthless pursuits are we on in this life? What are we spending energy searching for and seeking that amounts to chasing the wind (Ecc 3)? Solomon calls those pursuits meaningless. Yet we chase them as if life depends on us obtaining them.

 

Isaiah also speaks of our earthly ambitions in a similar way:

 

“Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” (55:2)

 

As I walked over every step of my backyard looking for Hannah’s beloved Nini, I felt my priorities re-orient mentally. My faith and my pursuit of Jesus need to be first.

 

What in your life is taking time and energy that should be given to seeking Jesus? I know that we can’t just clear our schedules every day, call off work, sit in the woods and bask in his Spirit all day every day. We are called to our families, our jobs, our ministries. We need to do these things. But what are we doing to be filled with Jesus, to seek his kingdom, “and search for it as for hidden treasure” (Prov 2:4)?

 

I think it is as much a posture or attitude of our hearts as it is a time issue. First, we need to make time to seek Jesus. But, we can also orient our hearts towards him through all those things that we need to do, so that we are seeking him throughout our whole day. And when we do spend time alone in his word, our hearts and minds should be seeking him like precious treasure, rather that a casual exchange, as if scrolling through social media. I want my time with Jesus to be life-giving, active, and engaging, not just a mind-numbing scroll-through of my passage of the day.

 

At long last, Nini was found, hiding under the spare blanket at the foot of my bed. (Did I mention that Hannah is also a stasher? She likes to hide things… It’s SO fun, guys.) I was so relieved when we found Hannah’s precious lovey. But I was thankful that God took me outside to walk in the quiet and the darkness, to meet with him in an unexpected place and unexpected way. He’s there, in the middle of your ordinary, if you look for him, seek him out, search for him like a precious pearl. You will never be disappointed at the energy you spend seeking him with all your heart! And the good thing about searching for Jesus is that you won’t feel limited and powerless, because He always shows up to meet you!

 

 

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