I don’t want trite sayings--I want impacting Truth.
I don’t want a superior attitude--I want a servant’s heart.
I don’t want more on my to-do list--I want a greater recognition of who I already am in Christ.
God of the messy and the inconsistent,
God of the distracted and ashamed,
God of the broken-hearted and grieving,
God of the discouraged and anxious—
Thank you as we start the year afresh,
We do not fear our own weakness or lack.
That we don’t have to pretend with you,
For you already know us inside and out.
Thank you for choosing to be the God of the messy.
Thank you for not expecting us to have it all together,
Or figured out or planned ahead.
Thank you for your patience in our failings and flaws.
In the work I do with pastoral counseling, we discuss the past and the way it has shaped our view of ourselves today, as well as our views of God. I do believe there is validity in doing this analysis to a degree, as it allows us to know why we do what we do presently, and also how to do something different as we move forward. So often we need to know the problem before we can allow God to heal the problem.
I do, however, believe that there is a limit to this, as continuing to go over and over the past ends up getting our eyes on the hurts and not on the way through. We must allow God to take the hurts of the past and replace it with our new identity. He has already done this, but we get to recognize how that plays out in our lives. Instead of continuing to believe we are worthless, shameful, unloved and unacceptable, we get to move into the reality that Jesus has made us worthy, shame-free, loved enormously, and acceptable completely. The more we focus on the past, the more stuck in it we become. So, it becomes a fine line between understanding the past and the effects on today and letting the past continue to control our present and future.
Mike Wells used to say that dwelling on the past and our pain for too long is incredibly boring. We get bored just over-analyzing all of it and getting nowhere. I want better, more and new. I don’t want to allow whoever hurt me to continue to control where I go now, both mentally and physically.
I have been intrigued by David and his life quite a lot this year, and have loved watching his emotion be expressed in so many of his psalms. He is angry, sad, depressed, confused—so many emotions we tend to stuff and pretend God doesn’t want to hear about. David is very honest about all of them, and I love that God receives it. The other thing I’ve noticed about David’s writings is how much He focuses on praising God, even in the middle of less than ideal circumstances.
This man had a rough life. He was running away from people who were trying to kill him often—sometimes they were enemy armies, and sometimes they were people who were supposed to be allies but betrayed him. His own son ended up making him run for his life. David made a lot of mistakes, and the Bible is very honest about too. We are never under any fantasies of David being perfect with a perfect life. But still he praised God, and thanked Him for His love and faithfulness.
I read recently that studies have shown that anxiety and gratitude cannot coexist in your brain. If we are focusing on gratitude and praising God, even in the middle of suffering and struggle, we don’t let the anxiety have the run of our brain. Praise actually becomes one of our greatest brain weapons. We are able, no matter the circumstance, to stop and praise God. We may not be thankful for the situation, but we can thank Him for His love and faithfulness just like David did. We may be in physical pain, in mental anguish or in emotional upheaval, but we can still worship Jesus and lift our spirits. I find it fascinating that Paul and Silas in Acts (***) were singing praise to God WHILE in prison. Yes, God busted them out, but they were singing before that happened!
My friends in Haiti are isolated from the world again after the gangs fired on a commercial plane and the airport was closed this week. They were ousted from their homes for over a year while fighting raged around them and they went into hiding. They have shown up for teen and preteen kids who are watching their friends die, and who are still healing from their pasts. I am so blown away by their faithfulness.
I speak to several woman who are raising kids while dealing with debilitating illness and chronic pain in themselves. They show up for their families in the ways they can while desperately surviving their own health journeys. I know they often feel like they are failing, like they can’t do what other moms can do. But I stand in awe of their faithfulness to keep showing up.
Several years ago, my husband and I were camping in Moab, Utah with our one-year-old son. Camping is probably a generous term—we did have a pop-up camper and weren’t really roughing it. We did, however, drive about half an hour outside of town on a dirt road to the middle of nowhere, and then parked the camper at the top of a rocky hill. The views were spectacular, and we would only see another car on the dirt road about once every few hours. It was a little taste of the wilderness, with only us and our little camper. No cell service, no toilets, and no other people around.
This seemed like a fantastic experience until we decided the next day to head back into town to get a few groceries. After piling in the truck, my husband tried to start the vehicle, but it wouldn’t start. The truck’s battery was dead. And the wilderness experience that seemed like a lot of fun became quite scary.
I started to panic, wondering how we would ever get out of there. No cars came by on the road, and it was at least a day’s walk to get back into town with a one-year-old and only so much food for camping. Finally after a bit of worry, my husband brilliantly figured out that he could use the camper batteries to jump the truck battery, and we were finally moving again.
But what about the figurative wildernesses in which we find ourselves where we can’t figure a way out, and we sit and wait with no resources and no hope? Wildernesses are a real experience in life, and one which often catches us by surprise. I’m not sure why, as so many of the people in the Bible went through years and years of wilderness, sometimes figurative and sometimes quite literal. There are stories of prison, hardships, desert-living, wandering, frustration, hopelessness, disbursement and aching for home.
Sometimes my purse gets incredibly heavy while I’m lugging it around day in and day out. When I finally decide to figure out what is making it so weighed down, usually it’s a random toy or some other heavy object that I don’t need to be carrying around, but have forgotten is in there. One time it was giant rock that my son had slipped in there for me to carry for him! After the troubling object was removed, I felt so much lighter and my shoulder quit hurting!
I recently watched a TED talk in which Shawn Achor discussed happiness and success. He pointed out that if we measure happiness by successes in our life and external determiners, we have to keep upping the ante. Thus, we are never really happy. If we reach the goal that determines success, we have to push the standard higher or come up with a new goal. We start over and are always lacking. If, however, we turn it around and learn to be content in our circumstances, we can be happy before we become “successful” in whatever terms we use for that.
Last year, my sister-in-laws convinced me to try to run a 10K for the first time in my life. I was running a bit, but only short distances. Six miles seemed ridiculously far away. I often found myself running too fast in the beginning couple of miles, and then I was totally spent and couldn’t go further. I had to slow myself down so I could run for longer, increasing my endurance.
This morning I realized one minute before we walked out the door for school drop-off that it’s 50’s day at school. And I have nothing to make my son look “50’s” at all. He tried to be gracious about it, and for that I’m thankful. But his disappointed look made me run smack into the wall of my own desire for perfectionism in all things. My standard for myself was not met.
I think one of my greatest struggles in life has been to break free from the “religious” performance and recognize Christ’s Life as the source of every good work. I used to obsess on how I was working so hard to make God happy, when that was not His desire at all. In fact, I failed a lot and was completely miserable in my quest to be a perfect child of God on my own. Not to mention I judged a lot of other people in order to try to make myself feel better. Of course, it didn’t work, and I just ended up being a judgmental, miserable human with a prettied up exterior to show off in an attempt to prove I was something else. So much work for nothing!
Often I want to skip the suffering of the cross and go straight to the glory of Easter morning, when Jesus rose from the dead and presented Himself in victory to those who surrounded Him throughout His earthly ministry. I want the celebration without the fight. I want the promises of God to come to fruition without having to wait for them. Basically, I want the easy way out.
I hate being sick. The weakness, the pain, the feeling of being behind on everything while simultaneously feeling like you can’t get out of bed. As with every seemingly negative thing in life, I try to see Jesus in it. I have realized that the last week or so I’ve been praying for those with chronic pain and illness much more than I usually do. Something about the reminder of what those people feel every morning when they get up makes me come before the Father with the realization of how hard that must be.
There was a movie many years ago called “What About Bob?” in which the two main characters are a psychiatrist and patient. The patient proceeds to drive the psychiatrist totally crazy by following his “baby steps” right into chasing the therapist down on vacation. The idea of baby steps for everything—small movements or decisions in life that add up to bigger strides to a goal—were supposed to help Bob (the patient) to overcome some of his anxiety. As funny as that movie was about the whole thing, there is something to be said for baby-stepping your way through life.
I was listening to Lisa Jo Baker today as she talked about a story in 2 Chronicles in which God told King Jehoshaphat to do some crazy things when faced with enemies bent on the destruction of his people. God told him not to fear, to stand still and to watch the Lord fight for him. So, he sent the choir out front of the army and marched down to meet the other armies. The singers sang praise to God and as they did this, the Lord defeated the armies and had them kill each other. When the Israelites arrived on the scene, nothing was left but corpses. It made me laugh because of how often God asks us to do the thing that doesn’t make sense, that makes us feel or look like a fool, or that is the opposite of what we would think we should do.
It’s easy to feel that evil is swallowing up the world. Take one look around you and find pain, lies, brokenness and the overall feeling that we might be drowning without even realizing it. But perhaps what we see is what doing life without God looks like. It has happened many times before throughout history, this distancing from God and His ways. The results are never good. Governments, countries and powers that seem invincible and brilliant fall by the wayside as they implode. People convince themselves and each other that they are smarter than all the others and no longer need God.
I am excited to announce we are having a women’s retreat this year on November 1-3 at Table Mountain Inn in beautiful Golden, Colorado! We will meet from Friday evening through Sunday lunch, enjoying a few wonderful speakers, worship time, good fellowship with other women and also a chance to benefit from the giftings of some of the ladies who will be there like coaching, counseling and personality testing.