Posts
Hannah Morrell
God of the Messy

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. 

God of the Messy
Posts
Hannah Morrell
Out With the Old, In With the New

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.

Out With the Old, In With the New
Posts
Hannah Morrell
Praise and Anxiety

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!

Praise and Anxiety
Posts
Hannah Morrell
Faithfulness Even Still

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.

Faithfulness Even Still
Posts
Hannah Morrell
The Wilderness

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.

The Wilderness

Weariness and Fruit

Weariness and Fruit

Anyone else a little weary? I find myself tired sometimes before I even start the day. Political conflict, divisive arguing, virus protection and discussion, people’s problems and our own—all of it makes us exhausted and spent very quickly.

Sometimes, I forget to remember that my worth is not defined by productivity, or stick-to-it-ness. Sometimes when I’m weary, I end up berating myself with guilt on top of things—and it’s a terrible perfect storm to make it even worse. Instead of walking in step with Jesus, and being the branch on the Vine that requires His Life to do anything that sows into the Spirit-life, I get distracted thinking it’s all up to me and I better get with it. As much as that looks like sowing good seed, it’s actually my flesh trying to sort it out on my own, and it’s unproductive.

I was chatting with a friend recently who gave me a great reminder. She told me that her friend had made her a little sign that asked “What are we doing today, Jesus?” My friend hung it across from her bed, so every morning when she woke up, it was the first thing she saw. What a difference it makes to wake up in step with Jesus and to keep coming back to that, rather than pushing off on our own agenda of what we think we need to accomplish today.

The Good News

The Good News

Perhaps one of the most frustrating parts of the Gospel or good news of Jesus is that God didn’t choose to rescue us by ridding the world of evil, but rather ridding us of evil. We would like the suffering, the struggle, the darkness to go away and leave us in peace. Peace is defined by the absence of chaos, rather than trying to define peace in the middle of the mess. We also decide that God is acting only when the situation turns out as we wanted it to, with the least discomfort.

The truth, though, is that God ached for relationship with us, relationship that we had rejected in Adam and Eve way back in the garden. We want to blame Eve quite often, and think we would have made a different decision. But at the heart of every person is the desire to be their own god, controlling their own destiny and being powerful in their own right. They rejected relationship with God. I want to think that I would have chosen walking with God in the garden over the fruit that would make me like God, but in reality, God knew I wouldn’t have. None of us would have.

So, He sent a part of Himself in Jesus to make a way, and to make a different decision. He chose to humble Himself. He was God, but chose to empty Himself of that power, and become a human—the opposite direction of the humans trying to be god unto themselves. Everything that Jesus did on earth was because of His connection to the Father and the Spirit—the union of the Godhead was perfectly demonstrating the union He wants with us. He wants to participate in each part of our lives, empowering us through dependence and connection to Him, rather than us empowering ourselves through intelligence or independence. It feels all backwards for the American culture of pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps. But it’s a relationship that God desires—not a dictatorship or slavery.

Give Thanks...Even Now

Give Thanks...Even Now

What a year this has been! For me, 2020 has been raw, stretching and also incredibly sweet. Many people want to count this year as a loss, resigning themselves to all the bad that has happened without seeing any of the good. I’m not minimizing the pain—I haven’t seen my mom and dad in eleven months, and miss them terribly. We get to figure out remote schooling with my kids, and have felt the loss of time with friends and family this year. I have walked with many people this year who have suffered more greatly than us. They are stuck in an assisted care facility with no outside contact allowed, have lost loved ones to COVID, or have been laid off from their job.

But the call of my heart today as I write this is to come back to giving thanks, and recognizing the incredible goodness of God in the middle of difficult times. I find that throughout history there have been many examples of people who have kept looking for God’s hand through the pain, and have seen His faithfulness even in extreme suffering. There is something about refocusing on these things that helps lift us up out of the pit of despair, allowing us to see forward, over and past whatever circumstance looms large at the moment.

Problems and Compassion

Problems and Compassion

The problem isn’t the problem. That’s something Mike Wells used to say a lot. It’s easy to get distracted, though, by whatever tough situation is in front of you and figure that if you could “fix” it, then you’d be happier. And don’t get me wrong, I’m all about getting problems resolved, but not at the expense of growing in relationship with Jesus.

Problems have a purpose, and their purpose is to draw us closer to Jesus and allow us to realize that we need His Life for dealing with them. When I treat them as burdens that need to be sorted out, I miss Jesus calling me to Himself. I miss casting my burdens on Him.

We don’t grow in a deepening relationship with people if we go hide out every time there is a problem and don’t allow them into our lives in vulnerability. With God, it is the same. When we push Him away and decide we need to figure this out ourselves before we reapproach Him, we miss the sweetness of the shared struggle. And we miss the power of His Life within us to handle the issue.

God's Availability

God's Availability

“What wings are to a bird, and sails to a ship, so is prayer to the soul.” Corrie ten Boom

The availability of God to me astounds me. I can talk to Him any time, any place. There are no prerequisites or standards that must be achieved before I have access to Him. He has given me the incredible gift of constant connection. Of course, I don’t have to choose to acknowledge I have the access, but I am overwhelmed by His willingness to provide this.

I think we often are under the impression (whether we will state it in so many words or not) that we can’t talk to God about everything, or that we need it to sound a certain way. Unfortunately, many religious people have promoted the concept that you need them to be your go-between to God, or you need to learn from them how to approach Him. And what a crying shame that is, as God calls us to approach Him boldly (Heb 4:16).

When my kids have an issue, they don’t stew about presenting it to me the right way and in the right time (although that’s probably coming in the teenage years!) but rather they melt into tears and come storming with all their emotions exposed about what has happened. I love that God has included the Psalms in the Bible, with all their raw, vulnerable aching. David expresses his anger, his sadness, his depression, his fear—just lays it all out there for everyone to see. And God doesn’t condemn him for it! He encourages it!

Just Keep Walking

Just Keep Walking

Just keep walking, a little step at a time.
Sometimes that’s all I’ve got to do.
One foot in front of the other,
Without knowing what is next,
I just keep walking and waiting
For the way God’s making ahead.

Some days the walking seems drudgery,
And I want to stop and rest.
He reminds me that rest is constant,
If I will just trust Him and ask for His strength.
So, one foot in front of the other,
Walking continually onward.

When Moses walked forward, the Red Sea parted,
Giving God’s people an escape.
When Joshua walked forward, the lands were given,
Everything his feet walked on was theirs.
When Jesus walked forward, the water held him up,
Showing how nature worships its Creator.

When I walk forward, I am tuning my ear,
Listening for God to call out right or left.
He often doesn’t give me the whole set of directions,
But directs as the moment calls for it.
Sometimes I stomp my feet at this waiting,
Wanting control and knowledge rather than dependence and trust.

Obedience: Because, Not In Order To

Obedience: Because, Not In Order To

Ok, these prepositions are kind of awkward, I’ll admit. But I think we need some definition and order in what we say sometimes, and perhaps awkwardness sometimes catches people up enough to open a perspective shift possibility.

So, obedience is doing what you are told, right? And obedience to God would then be doing what God tells you to do. It’s impossible to please God without faith (Hebrews 11:6), and faith without works is dead (James 2:14).

BUT.

There is an order to this, and we often get it wrong. My friend and mentor Mike Wells had a great illustration for this, where he would demonstrate that giving all the numbers of his telephone number in no particular order did a person no good if they wanted to call him. You have to have the numbers in the exact order in order to connect with a person with a phone call. Just a bunch of random 7’s, 2’s and 0’s doesn’t help you at all!

In the same way, we have to get the order right in our relationship with God.

The Church

The Church

For many years, I treated the church as if it was a form of torture. I wanted nothing to do with people who oozed with the “churchiness” that I loathed. I held myself in arrogance over those who were found in church as if they were to be pitied and despised.

Slowly and gradually, the tender kindness of God has changed that perspective. He has shown me that my despising others was not of Him, but rather out of my own insecurity.

I don’t want to hold up theology and beat others with it, forgetting love.

I don’t want to have to agree with someone in order to love them.

I don’t want to assume that I hold the image of God alone, but instead seeing it reflected in many different ways throughout the body of Christ.

I don’t want to condemn others when God Himself has stated there is no condemnation. (Rom 8:1)

I want to see people with God’s eyes, past their behavior and their posturing to their heart.

My friend and mentor Mike Wells used to say that anytime we move from the center of the wheel down a spoke to the edge, we are missing out. Anytime we require a program, a way of thinking, a behavior ahead of Christ, we have moved from the center of the wheel. It must be Jesus first and Jesus only. He is our Life, and we can’t find that in productivity or moral living. We are not supposed to be generating our “pleasing-ness” to God. He has already made us pleasing in making us a new creation. We need only live in that.

Slow Walking

Slow Walking

I don’t know about you, but walking slowly kills me. Whether it be the zoo, the mall or the museum, there is lots of walking slowly while looking at things. I can walk quickly or run, but the slow walking makes me hurt in ways I never expect. Sometimes I feel like that’s how so much of life is—slow-walking through another problem, another dilemma, another decision. We can’t run through whatever it is, but have to maintain a slow, even pace.

I want the big moves! The big changes! The times when everything flips and you are dealing with a brand new thing. But often, we are called to the slow, steady pursuit of what God has put in front of us.

The beautiful news about this is that God has not abandoned us to do it alone. He never said we were supposed to be able to fulfill all the promises of God by ourselves, or that we should do all the good because we’ve generated enough willpower to make it through. Instead, He promises to be the power within us to walk the slow walk when it’s called for, to keep holding on when everything in us wants to quit or run.

Hopelessness to Hope

Hopelessness to Hope

Do you ever have those days when you wake up and feel that it’s all hopeless? You lie awake at night considering all you have going on in your life, and imagine that nothing will ever change and your life will always be this way? Maybe you have tried to break free and to change things, but these attempts have fallen to the ground with no sign of completing their task.

Your heart cries out and aches for relief as you go about your day with a dreary cloud of despair tormenting your every move. The problems seem insurmountable, and you wonder how you will continue to walk forward. Everything ahead of you feels uncertain, or, even worse—the same as it is now.

I was reading the story of Hezekiah in Isaiah, where the powerful king has sent messengers to taunt his people and foretell their defeat by his army. The Assyrian army had destroyed many people and nations at this point, and were greatly feared. Hezekiah takes the message to God, crying out for help. I would imagine that it looked pretty hopeless to him as well. But he poured it all out before God anyway. God’s response through Isaiah was basically--don’t worry, I’m taking care of it.

In What Are You Trusting?

In What Are You Trusting?

I am discovering there is nothing like the year 2020 for helping us sift through and recognize what it is we use as our foundation and safety point. For many, it’s being able to get up each day and not have to think too much about going out, or our health. The COVID crisis this year has changed that significantly, and we no longer have the freedom to go about life as we did before. Those who struggle with chronic illness have walked through shifting trust away from health already, and in some ways are prepared better for the current COVID-world than those who have not had their physical limitations as pronounced.

Some trust financial stability, and the means to provide for their family or to maintain their standard of living. This year has taken its tolls on this safety net as well for many, with job losses, economic nosedives and general unease about what the future holds. Some put their trust in the control they have over the future, or at least the control they think they have. We go about our days assuming we know the future, and 2020 has basically blown that out of the water. I think my most common answer for my kids’ questions this year has been “I don’t know” as I don’t know what will happen with school, when we will get to see their grandparents in Texas, or even what next week will hold!

What we are really confronted with during this year particularly is how little control we have. We maintain an illusion of being in control of our lives, but we don’t realize how much this is a falsehood.

Your Problem Isn't Sin

Your Problem Isn't Sin

My mentor told a story of a pastor who had in his church a young man wracked with guilt every Sunday. Every week, the man would walk to the front to confess his mistakes for the week, recommitting to being done with whatever he was doing that week. The pastor had finally had enough, and meant to call him out the following Sunday. As he stood at the front, the young man rose and began his weekly trip to tell the pastor about his mess-ups. And God spoke to the pastor and told him to tell the young man, “You can come again, and again, and again. I will never tire of you coming to me.” The pastor was overcome with the beauty of the forgiveness and compassion of God for this man.

I talk to many people each week, and often it can become a confessional of how they feel they have failed. The communication in many Christian circles has been one of obsession with sin, condemnation for wrong-doing and pulling yourself up by your bootstraps to try to make God happy again. I don’t believe this is Biblical, though. Jesus is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. He says that apart from Him you can do nothing. He talks of how he forgets your sin, and throws it as far as the east is from the west. He talk of forgiving over and over, without resentment or demand.

Sin is not what keeps people from God—pride and unbelief does that. Sin has been dealt with on the cross. It’s the pride of feeling I must do everything independently, including “being good” although the standard for good is one which I cannot attain. It’s also the relentless unbelief that God doesn’t work to pursue me or want me—it is all up to me to live life in a way that pleases Him. So, we carry on trying harder, trying again and working ourselves into a depressing frenzy of self-torture.

The Weed of Fear

The Weed of Fear

I have a vine in my backyard that seems to be a parasite that can’t be stopped . I know I talk a lot about The Vine (Jesus in John 15:5), but this isn’t that kind of vine.

I first found evidence of it coming through the fence from my neighbor’s back yard into mine. I just cut off the branches coming through the fence, and thought I had it sorted. I found more a bit further into the yard, and started to wonder. Finally, some popped up right in the middle of my raised garden bed, meaning it had gone through the weed guard and all the soil and come up right in the middle of my vegetables.

This meant war. I started pulling the vine out, and it kept going. And going. I pulled up the weed guard a little to look underneath, and realized there was an immense system of vines growing all under it like it was a comfortable blanket rather than a method of keeping weeds out. I found it clear across on the other side of the yard, which means this vine system is now growing throughout my entire yard, underneath everything and lying in wait for whatever plant it can take over while I’m not watching.

Now, I realize I make it sound quite menacing, but honestly, this plant is trying to take over! But it got me thinking about the small things we allow to grow under the surface of our lives without checking them at the fence, and as they slowly spread and choke the life out of everything we have tended so carefully, we can wonder how they could have gotten there.

Waves Are Only Waves

Waves Are Only Waves

I was listening to the song “Peace, Be Still” sung by Hope Darst the other day, and thinking about when Jesus calmed the storm in Mark 4. The world right now often feels like we are in the middle of a storm, as it rages around us with all its fury and confusion. We can begin to feel as though everything is out of control, and we are just floating over each wave as we are pelted with rain.

Many of the disciples who were with Jesus were fisherman, so the sea was not a foreign place to them. They spent a large part of their lives understanding the weather, knowing when fishing was best and dealing with boats on the sea. This storm sent them all into a fright, which made me consider a couple of things.

Celebrating in the Brokenness

Celebrating in the Brokenness

I really hate cliff-hanger endings. I know some people consider it an art form, but I just get frustrated and want everything wrapped up and sorted out. I wrote a post a couple of years ago on the hardship of being in the middle of a story with no idea what the end will be. We like to listen to those who have completed that part of their journey—the cancer is gone, the marriage is restored, the kid has returned to the family. But right now, there is so much that cannot be tied up and completed. I feel that my most common answer to questions is “I don’t know.”

I battle with the part of me that wants to make plans, schedule things, get excited about whatever is coming next. And God keeps calling me back to moment-by-moment of walking with Him, and entrusting the ending and the future to Him. And frankly, I don’t like it.

The revelation I’ve been having, though, is how there is such a sweetness to that simplicity and smallness of the moments lived hand-in-hand with Jesus. I am weary, and it’s because I keep trying to run ahead and sort it all out for God. In taking a pause, I am reminded that it isn’t my responsibility to do God’s job—I get to follow.

Groundhog Day

Groundhog Day

I have heard from many people during this pandemic season that they feel like they are living in the movie Groundhog Day, where the main character relives the same day over and over again. Sometimes these days can seem to stretch on forever with little change, and we don’t have big plans to look forward to or answers to the questions of when we can do things we have hoped to do. I feel especially for those who are in nursing homes and care facilities, sometimes limited to just their room for months on end with no visitors to break up the monotony.

In some ways, it is similar with grieving a loved one. It’s like someone hit a giant pause button, and life doesn’t go anywhere for a bit. Even so, there are signals of change all around us, albeit small ones. The flowers bloom. The trees leaf out. The kids keep growing. My hair keeps turning more gray.

I am a person who loves making milestones a big deal. We celebrate birthdays, holidays, last days of school, any sort of milestone. I want to throw a party and invite everyone to participate in some way of acknowledging what has passed. But now the celebrations have changed, and they are much smaller and less populated.

We can believe that with nothing to look forward to, we are stuck. We feel like we are living the same day over and over. But this morning God reminded me that this time can be a gift.

The Deception of Being Alone

The Deception of Being Alone

My daughter hates to be in one part of the house by herself while we are in the other part. She doesn’t want to go upstairs or to the basement alone, even if we stand at the stairs and remind her that we are present and not leaving.

I have friends who, during this stay-at-home season, are suffering through all by themselves. They are isolated in an apartment, have lost their jobs and are trying to find ways to entertain themselves and keep busy.

Sometimes even when we live with others and have good connections, we can feel alone. I was struggling with that feeling recently—feeling that I was slugging it out all by myself. Everyone else seemed to have a team or an ally in their work, and then there was me. I suppose some of that comes with working in a one-woman nonprofit ministry. But God started showing me that the idea that I am alone in this battle was a deception.

What To Do When You Aren't Radiating With Hope

What To Do When You Aren't Radiating With Hope

I always want to be real with you guys, not pretending to have it all together or to never struggle. I want you to know that Jesus is the same for me as He is for you—and He is enough for all the messes in life as well as the days that seems to stretch on forever. And I hit a wall this week.

I was exhausted, felt sick (not coronavirus symptoms) and had to cancel some remote appointments. In short, I was not radiating with hope like Romans 15:13 talks about.

Have you ever been there?

I knew when I woke up the morning after that I needed to regain my focus in order to operate out of the fullness of uncontainable joy and perfect peace, because I definitely was not. I usually get to the end of my rope when I don’t even realize I have changed my source and have decided that all the pressure to perform, do and produce has landed squarely on my own shoulders again.

Walking in Dependence

Walking in Dependence

My son and I were talking yesterday and I watched him finally confront the sadness that he had kept at bay for the last couple of weeks. He was sad he wasn’t going back to school for the foreseeable future, that he wouldn’t get to enjoy days with his great teacher and friends. And he asked me how long the sickness was going to last. And I don’t know. So, we talked about how we do hard things, and find the joy in them. And we talked about how it’s okay to be sad and miss things, and then also okay to enjoy the day in the way we could.

The reactions from many of the people I work with in counseling have been similar—how do we do this season when everything has been uprooted and made raw?

I was thinking through practical tools I’ve been giving people, which I will talk about later in this post. But first, God reminded me this morning we do this season of life just like we do every other season--in dependence on Jesus. Every morning we can wake up knowing that the day is too big for us, and ask Him to be all we need for it. That hasn’t changed with the magnitude of the situation, or the radical difference many of us feel in our lives. God hasn’t changed. He is still more than enough for all the pieces of our lives, even the ones that look like pandemic, shelter-at-home and remote everything.

Walking with the broken to find hope in Jesus