Confessions of the Clingy

In a way I feel like I have been running to and fro.  From one thing to the next, always looking for the next race.  Seeking the next task to accomplish.  While I'm running all over the place I forget.  I forget the powerful truths that God has been so faithfully speaking to me.  The thing about God, though, is that He is always faithful.  Even when it means Him cycling the same truths to me over and over (and over) again.

Lately He's been reminding me how natural it is for us to cling.  Whether you like to admit it or not we are a clingy people.  Even when we don't want to be.  Even when we deny it—we are.  We cling.  The question is: what is it or who is it that we are clinging to?

I've been coaching elementary girls’ volleyball.  Volleyball is a hard sport for elementary girls—seeing as how the ball is bigger than most of their bodies.  I have a small girl that most of the time struggles to get her serve over the net.  This past week at our game she got almost all of her serves in.  She even won us five consecutive points off of her serve.  She was beaming—she was jumping all over the place with excitement.  When she was subbed out she flung herself into our other coach's arms clinging to her in excitement and celebration of what had just been accomplished.

There are days that I take my kids at school out early to recess and our time ends up overlapping with the second grade's time.  I have a student that I taught when she was in kindergarten and first grade.  Whenever I see her she flings herself into my arms and clings on closely.  She looks back and remembers that she was cared for in class—that we worked together through it all and that we both were stronger on the other side of our time together as "student" and "teacher".  She looks back and she still clings onto me out of feelings of love, comfort, and trust.

As a first grade teacher there are also multiple instances of kiddo's walking up to me with crocodile tears flowing down their faces.  Heavy drops of water running like a signal fire of the pain of life experiences, fear, and injury.  They cling.  They cling to me out of sorrow of life circumstances.  They cling out of fear of failure.  They cling out of pain from physical injury.  Regardless of why or how it is they are experiencing the pain they still cling.

I just feel God tugging at me and asking—where are you allowing yourself to cling?  When you are jumping up and down with excitement, celebrating your life, where are you clinging?  When you are remembering past memories and circumstances, who are you allowing yourself to cling to?  When it feels like life is beating you up a little bit and pain is aching in your heart who is it or where is it you are running to—clinging to?

David was able to say when he was walking in the wilderness in Psalm 63:

"My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food, and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips, when I remember you upon my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night; for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.  My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me."

Praise you with joyful lips, remember you upon my bed, for you have been my help—my soul clings to you.  Joy, remembrance, and help from trouble.  I think our reaction to all three things should look a whole lot like us running and clinging to the Savior.  To the Creator.  To our Heavenly Father.  But does it?

Earlier in Psalm 63 David says:

"O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water."

I just feel God asking me "Are you earnestly seeking me, Janie?  I know you thirst, but are you allowing yourself to desperately seek Me out—The Living and
Eternal Well.  Or are you clinging to other things—other people.  Looking to be quenched from an earthly, finite source?"

I don't believe I'm the only one He is asking.  So, where, where are we clinging, where are we seeking?

I'm humbled when I read in 2 Chronicles16:9,

"For the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him.  You have done foolishly in this, for from now on you will have wars."

While I just feel like I'm running to and fro to accomplish one task after another—while I forget Him, forget the truths He has taught me, He is sending His eyes to and fro seeking His children.  He is seeking me, and He wants to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward Him.  And it is humbling because what He found when His eyes landed on Asa was that he had done foolishly in this. 

The thing is I don't want to be hard to find—not that anyone really could be hard for Him to find—and I definitely don't want to take after Asa—I just want to cling to Him—cling to Jesus.  To earnestly seek Him as in a dry and weary land.  I simply want my legacy to always be that you can find me with Jesus.  Always.  In any circumstance.  While in seasons of joy, seasons of remembering, as well as seasons of sorrow. 

He is the God who kneels down close and invites.  Who reaches out His arms and has a special place for each child to nestle in close.  Clinging with all that they have.  He is personal, His eyes are searching for His beloved children. 

Where will He find you—find me?  Clinging to His Word and all that He says He is, or elsewhere?  I think most people would admit that they are thirsty.  The question is are we desperately searching and seeking The Well of Living Water—or are we settling for a finite, earthly source?

The truth is we are all clingers—as pathetic as we allow ourselves to think it sounds.  There is power in where/who we are allowing ourselves to cling to—really I think my odds are pretty good if I cling to the Victor.  

The Sun's Story

I find myself smack dab in the span of a few years of constantly going.  The Lord has called me to amazing things by asking me to teach during the school year and work at camp in the summer.  Every day I am in awe of the places that He has led me and the people He has crossed my paths with.  I have been given blessing after blessing. I've also felt more drained than I ever knew I could and like I've been at the end of my abilities.  The only reason I say any of this is to make it clear that I don't even have the words to express just how good God is—His provision over the past few years has been miraculous.

He is writing a story.  A story through me.  A story through you.  A story through His children—His church.  What part of the story do you find yourself in?  Is it a mountain?  Or maybe even a valley?

The past few weeks God has been reminding me of His amazing faithfulness.  One of the mornings the last week of camp I was reading Psalm 19, which has been one of my favorites and always challenges me.  It always reminds me how much better creation can sometimes be at declaring the glory of God—it always tends to "put me in my place"—until I forget and need to be reminded again.  This particular time reading it God really started to point out part of verse 4 and 5:

"Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.  There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard.  Their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.  In them he has set a tent for the sun, which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber, and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy." vs. 2-5

I started to think about the sun "running its course with joy".  One of the times the sun seems the most "joyful" to me is at sunrise—with that thought I went on with my day.  It wasn't until heading to life guard later, that one small incident set me to feel like I was at emotional rock bottom.  I was so drained and one incident was all it took—I felt completely at the end of my abilities.  To be honest I was extremely thankful I was wearing sunglasses to hide the tears that were quickly welling up.  All I could think about was how I was stuck on the dock for the next two hours, when I felt like I could barely hold it together.  But, God.  He is so sweet and He met me in that moment.

He reminded me of the sunrise and that the sun was running its course with joy.  He started to give me the revelation that I was looking at it all wrong.  I was thinking of the joy He could give me in my own human, finite, earthly perspective.  You see, I was thinking of the sunrise as something I was allotted once a day.  But He reminded me that His ways are so much higher than my own perspective.  The sun is literally always rising.  As I sit here typing this at 7:40 at night the sun is rising somewhere.  The sun is always running its course with joy and so can I.

In that moment He reminded me of the verse I was so used to quoting and hearing in Lamentations that says:

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."

For whatever reason I always get caught up with the "new every morning" part.  In that moment God made it clear to me that they never come to an end—it's not a matter of getting to the end of the day and saying "Oh, I really need the morning to come for my daily allotment of mercies."

He was telling me, "No!  I'm so much greater than your perspective of morning.  Than your perspective of my mercies.  You receive mercies not because it's morning, but because I am merciful."

His reminders are literally written across the sky as the sun runs its course!  He is so faithful to provide mercy.  To provide joy.  Psalm 30 says:

"Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name.  For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime.  Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning...You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.  O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!" Vs. 4-5, 11-12.

Again, He whispered to me, "It's not the morning that does it, it’s the Maker—I give joy.  Rest in me and find joy, my child."

He is good.  He is provider.  He is love.  He is the one that calls you.  He is the one to see you through the calling.  And even the calling after that.

This past week I was driving and though it wasn't raining, God gave me a glimpse of what I thought to be a rainbow in the distance.  I was listening to the song "Do It Again":

"I know the night won't last

Your Word will come to pass

My heart will sing Your praise again

Jesus, You're still enough

Keep me within Your love

My heart will sing Your praise again

Your promise still stands

Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness

I'm still in Your hands

This is my confidence, You never failed me yet."

And in the moment the thought of His promises and His faithfulness hit me like an overwhelming flood.  He told us in Genesis:

"This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.  When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh..."

He remembers.  He remembers His covenant, His promises.  He remembers and He is so faithful.

I look back at the past few years and I am in awe of the miraculous things that I have seen.  Children coming to Christ, chains broken, lives transformed, prayers answered, conflict resolved, the Body strengthened.  Amazing fruit has poured out through His callings and the outworking of His Spirit.  And even in the moment(s) that felt like rock bottom, He was so sweet and faithful to show up.  To show up in the sun running its course with joy.  To show up in a picture of a rainbow—the evidence of His promise.

I want to tell my story, not because of anything I have done—but to proclaim what He has done.  It is so incredibly clear to me that I could not have worked in the capacities I have at school or camp without Him providing every moment.

Know that whether you find yourself on a mountain or in a valley, He is writing a story.  A story that will proclaim just how mighty and faithful He is.  Disclaimer: He wins the battle.  Don't wait for the morning to feel the weight of His mercies and His joy.  Draw near.  Draw near to the Maker and He will always provide. 

Sight vs. Vision

This summer I have been wrestling with lessons God has been teaching me about perspective and focus.  Man, am I prone to wander and oh, do I feel it!  We've been singing "Be Thou My Vision" this summer with our campers and I started to ask myself what it means to really have Christ's vision.  All in all I think our vision determines a lot of where our perspective and our focus land—but what does it truly mean to have His vision?

This past week I was walking down the dusty camp road and for a split second everything around me went a little fuzzy—in that moment the sun came out, shining brightly.  God instantly reminded me about the story of Saul's conversion from despising anything to do with Christ to actually following Him.  As Saul was traveling to literally hunt Christians, we are told:

"Now as he went on his way, he approached Damascus, and suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him.  And falling to the ground he heard a voice saying to him, 'Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?'  And he said, 'Who are you, Lord?'  And he said, 'I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.   But rise and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.'  The men who were traveling with him stood speechless, hearing the voice but seeing no one.  Saul rose from the ground and although his eyes were opened, he saw nothing.  So they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus.  And for three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank." (Acts 9)

Later it records:

"So Ananias departed and entered the house.  And laying his hands on him (Saul) he said, 'Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus who appeared to you on the road by which you came has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.'  And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and he regained his sight.  Then he rose and was baptized; and taking food, he was strengthened." 

What an amazing encounter with God.  Saul physically felt and heard the Lord.  I find it incredible that Saul lost his earthly sight, but gained a heavenly vision that can never be taken away.  That God completely transformed Saul's life in an instant and did it in such a tangible way.  The image of us having to lose our own vision to gain His kingdom vision is evident in Saul's story.  

Helen Keller once shared, "The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision."  I believe it!  What good are our eyes if we have no vision to look for Christ and His calling?  Saul, who was later called Paul, was a perfect example of this truth.

Paul's miraculous conversion wasn't the end of it.  He wasn't a "one and done" figure throughout scripture.  He went on to a life full of vision for Christ's kingdom and relentless action to see that vision outworked.  

You never see Paul asking "why me"—and if anyone had a reason to question their circumstances he would.  He knew that Christ's vision and kingdom was worth the momentary discomfort and pain.  He was a man that encountered God and then did something about it.  Paul wrote twenty-eight percent of the New Testament.  He saw thousands of people give their lives to Christ.  He witnessed miracles and through the strength of the Holy Spirit performed miracles.  Through all of it—the extreme ups and downs of his ministry—Paul records in Philippians:

"I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.  In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me."

Paul was a man that could rejoice through it all.  He found the deepest joy because he knew no matter what, the thing that mattered most was Christ.  He relentlessly pursued the things that Christ gave him vision for—he persevered and never gave in.  We need to be a people of passion that pursue the kingdom.  We do this by encountering Christ and proclaiming what He has done for us—declaring the ways that He has revealed himself.   

Paul also says in Colossians:

"Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving."

It’s such a paradox that Paul literally became blind so that he could gain vision to see what actually mattered for the first time.  If Paul were to truly walk as he had received Christ, he would become blind to his own human sight and gain Christ's kingdom vision every day.  Laying down his own thoughts, wants, and desires to pick up Christ’s purpose for his life. 

Where were you when you received Christ?  How did you encounter Him?  What was the feeling when you realized for the first time you were truly free?  Are we walking in Him—rooted and built up, established in the faith, abounding in thanksgiving—just as we received Christ?  Or have we lost the excitement?  The vision?

I want to encounter God every day.  I want to walk in the excitement and passion that I first felt when I received Christ.  I want to lose my vision only to gain His.  I want to look at any circumstance and count it joy.  I want to relentlessly outwork the vision that He is providing.  Because there is a vision that gives hope, friends!  Even in the darkest places.  Proclaim it—declare it—rejoice in it! 

Let this be our battle cry: 

Be thou my vision, o Lord of my heart

Naught be all else to me, save that thou art

Thou my best thought, by day or by night

Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light

Your presence alone is our light, Lord.  Thank you, Jesus, for your vision! 

The Shift

I was looking at flowers in my grandparents’ garden and saw that some were starting to die.  They're bright, red, beautiful flowers.  Many of them needed to be pruned away so that fresh ones could grow in their place.  When I looked at the semi-dead flowers in my hand I realized how beautiful they still were and I started to think about the contrast—about how it depended on your perspective what you saw when you looked at these flowers.  It seems to me that, like with flowers in a garden, the good and the bad of this life seem dangerously close to each other—at risk of colliding and tangling.  There's sweet and sour, joy and mourning, death and life everywhere you look.  This summer God's been speaking to me a lot about perspective.  Circumstances can be difficult, but the truth is the power lies in your perspective—through both the good and bad times. 

For some of us it might be a perspective of where God has us right now.  It is so easy to question if we are where we're supposed to be.  Maybe that's physically where you are living, what your occupation is, your relationship status, etc.—whatever the specifics are it is ridiculously easy to fall into the cycle of praying for a sign signifying that it's not "right" and it's time for a change.  Though we should pray and ask God to show us the direction He has for our life, this way of asking enables us to spend our days searching relentlessly for a sign that where we are in life isn't good or right.  That we aren't where we are supposed to be and that we need to leave.  I find that when I'm in this mindset it's impossible to live for the moment and the season I'm in.  That opportunities to glorify God are missed because instead of looking for what He has for me in this place I'm too busy searching for a way "out". 

What if we turned this perspective on its head and instead of praying for a sign that it's not right, we relentlessly declare to God that we will look for the lessons, for the opportunities, for the blessings, and that we will work for Him right where He has us until He clearly says otherwise—and then we actually did it? 

There is power and freedom in looking for what He has for us now instead of what He may have for us elsewhere.  I believe that if He wants us to make a change He'll tell us!  Why do we beat ourselves up looking for a "sign" from God instead of taking refuge in Him and working for Him, believing that if we are intimate with Him we won't need a "sign", because He'll tell us personally?  

After Jesus was born and the wisemen left it is recorded in Matthew 2:13-15,

"Now when they (the wisemen) had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, 'Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.'  And he rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed to Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod.  This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, 'Out of Egypt I called my son.'"

I have to believe that Mary and Joseph knew that their purpose wasn't to be in Bethlehem forever—I also have to believe they didn't spend every day searching and seeking out a time to go.  God made it very clear to them when the time had come.  He is so faithful to be our guide if we would just let Him.  So much of the time when our perspective is on the next thing or the next phase we try to run ahead of what He is teaching us in the moment. 

I think the enemy is clever and sneaky.  He even uses our own perspective of our giftedness as a tool to make us question our abilities and ultimately God's ability to use us. 

I am an "achiever" through and through.  I achieve to work hard and to work well.  This can be a gift if the heart behind it is to work for God—to achieve for Him—to please Him.  So much of the time, though, through battling my own sin nature and also the lies of the enemy, I can strive to please people instead.  Something that can be a gift and a tool for the kingdom begins to feel like a burden.  It's all about perspective.  Where are you fixing your focus?  On the founder and perfecter of our faith or the fleeting feelings of other people? 

I have multiple friends that are awesomely gifted in connecting with others emotionally and spiritually.  It is such a testament to God's faithfulness in giving good gifts to see them work with others.  I also see the enemy tempt them to bear the weight of others burdens, which can feel crippling.  Burdens that were nailed to the cross and that Jesus bore the full weight of—things that were never meant for us to feel the weight of. 

There is a time to grieve with other brother and sisters, but there is such a difference in grieving with them verses holding onto the weight of their sin that was already paid for.  How much of the time do we allow our perspective of even our own giftedness to get away from us instead of rooting our thoughts in God's truth?

This summer at camp we have been talking a lot with our campers about "identity".  What identities do we have?  Who gives us those identities?  It seems that most of the time the answer about what identities we have end up being negative identities.  Some of the time it's others that give us those identities, but a lot of the time it’s ourselves.  It's like a disease—these thoughts.  They creep into our minds and then grow, until it feels like we're in a pit.  The lies that we feed ourselves eventually start to feel a whole lot like the truth. 

When we find ourselves in this pit of a distorted perspective of who we are, I think many times our fall back plan is to tell ourselves "I have to stop thinking this way.  Shut these thoughts off.  God help me to stop thinking about this."  Ultimately this is our goal—to stop the lies, but when we pray like this or think like this, what thoughts are we always going back to?  The false identities.

What if we were to shift our perspective and focus on God's truth instead?  What if when I started to fall back into the pit instead of telling myself to just stop thinking that way I said, "God, I am intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  And I'm going to say it until I believe it—because it is the truth.  You tell me that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, so I am.  I'm going to declare it until I believe it." 

We can't carry the weight of false identities/lies and the weight of His glory/His truth at the same time.  The question is which perspective are you going to pick up and carry? 

"Then Jesus told his disciples, 'If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.  For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?  Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?  For the Son of Man is going to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay each person according to what he has done.  Truly, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.'" Matthew 16:24-28

I think that we have to realize what was nailed to Jesus' cross and what He overcame for us.  As I started to mention before, we (as His children) are not meant to carry the weight of the things He already bore—the sins that have been done to us and, after being forgiven, our own sins.  Jesus already bore them.  They are gone and we are wiped clean! 

What we have been called to carry is the weight of our own cross, daily.  We are daily supposed to die to self and live for Christ.  Again it’s a perspective shift.  Don't hold onto the guilt and shame of your past!  Don't hold onto it and bear it and beat yourself up over it.  Thank Jesus that He bore it for you and then pick up your cross to live for Him each and every day!  

Pick up your cross of denying yourself so that you can live for Christ.  Pick up your cross of rejection for His name sake, because He was first rejected.  Pick up your cross of self-sacrifice to serve others.  Let's all acknowledge that the weight of our daily cross can feel heavy.  Why on earth do we make it heavier by piling on sin and lies that were already nailed to the cross that Jesus took for us?  It's all about perspective.  Where is our perspective?

These thoughts and this blog feel heavy and almost a little "sharp" to me, but I think there are some things that we have to own up to as the body of Christ.  One of those things is the role we play in our own perspective. 

I think some of the time we fall into the trap of using God's amazing grace and mercy as an excuse to not contribute our own efforts.  The truth is that there is no way for you to work to get to heaven.  There is nothing you can do or say or create to deserve salvation or love from God.  He just loves you anyway.  He sent His Son to save you anyway.  Having said this, I do believe that God wants us to try.  To obey.  To work.  To pursuit Him back.

I think that honestly this looks a lot like us simply letting Him love us.  We need to shut our mouths long enough to listen to His truth.  When we listen to His truth we start to believe it and when we start to believe it our perspective starts to shift.  Listening is an action, one that I think we as the body need to start taking a little more seriously.  Galations 5:16-18 tells us:

"But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.  For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for those are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do.  But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law."

If you are led.  If you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.  Are you allowing the Spirit to lead you?  Your perspective included? 

We are also told in 1 Thessalonians 5:19, "Do not quench the Spirit."  Did you know that you can quench the Spirit?  We (myself included) have choices.  Important choices that we need to take responsibility for.

When you are in the pit don't make the choice to stay there—because, friends, we do have a choice.  Listen to God.  Let Him love you and pour His truth over you.  If you just let Him pursuit you and start to believe what He says about you, your perspective, your actions, as well as your reactions will start to fall more and more in line with Him.  

One of those truths that we need to hold onto is this:

"For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.  I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.  For the Lord my God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor.  No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly.  O Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you!"  Psalm 84:10-12

No good thing does He withhold.  Do we believe it?  Is our perspective in a place to hold onto and trust in God's truth—or is it not?  

This summer God has been challenging me a lot about my own perspective.  I don't think I'm the only one He wants to talk to about it.  I love to see the way that He works lessons through His body together.  We are unified in Him!  Let's help each other to recognize the role that we play in our perspective. 

I just think about those red, red flowers and the potential they hold to be seen as beautiful—or as withering.  How am I choosing to look at the different circumstances that pop up in my life?  Do I see the beauty or do I just see the struggle?

It really is all about perspective.  

Legacy

This life is both beautiful and painful.  Complicated and simple.  Fast and slow.  Surprising and rhythmic.  It’s a whirlwind of experiences and emotions.  I think the crazy of this world is such a contrast of God's steadfastness.  I love that He reveals just how faithful and constant He is throughout creation.  He builds legacy among His children and links us through the ties of "common threads"—commonalities in circumstance, emotions, struggle and giftedness.

This week I've been thinking about legacy a lot as my spunky, loving, passionate grandma went to be with Jesus.  Her love of life and people was endless and her perseverance was something to be admired.  As I started to think about all of the things I love about my grandma I saw traces of amazing biblical women in the way she lived her life.  In Luke 10:38-42 we are told the story:

"Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village.  And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house.  And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching.  But Martha was distracted with much serving.  And she went up to him and said, 'Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?  Tell her then to help me.'  But the Lord answered her, 'Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.  Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.'"

My grandma had a knack for hospitality.  She made everything beautiful and all food delicious (even when she snuck healthy things in there—which was always).  Serving was important to her—but she always remembered why and who she was serving.  My grandma was a lifelong learner.  She's the kind of person who learned to play the violin in her 60's.  Read atlases and encyclopedias to understand more.  She would look up the baseball scores both to learn new information and to be able to connect with someone over it.  She was always about connection—about meeting and caring for new people.  I love to look and see that she embodied the good parts of both Martha and Mary.  My grandma had the biggest servant's heart, but she always knew how to sit at the feet of Jesus.  Wanting to know more—hungry for new parts of His life lessons.  I also see links between my Grandma and Jesus' mother, Mary, found in Luke 2:19:

 "But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart."

 My grandma was both a "treasurer" and a "ponderer".  Her memory is unmatched by anyone I have met and her ability to capture details is astounding.  She journaled every day.  There are stacks and stacks full of journals holding details of the life my grandpa and grandma built together.  There are shelves upon shelves of binders labeled with grandchildren's names.  She treasured and captured every moment.  And what an amazing gift of story and testimony she left behind.  When I think of her I think of faith, loyalty, and hard work.  All of these things I both witnessed in my grandma and read about in the book of Ruth. 

 "But Ruth said, 'Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you.  For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge.  Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.  Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried.  May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.'  And when Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more."  1:16-18

 My grandma was faithful.  I would say that she is the most forgiving person I know—but the absolutely amazing thing about her was I never remember her expressing there was ever a reason to forgive in the first place.  She had the ability to love people always—through anything.  If she was truly mad at someone I never knew it, because she kept on loving them the way that she always had.  She was the most determined lady at connecting with people, and when she made that connection she never let it go.  Just like Naomi realized with Ruth there was no point in arguing the issue because my grandma was determined.  Determined to live and love with any and all people that would open their hearts to her—and even the people who wouldn't.  I see Ruth's determination and ability to love in my grandma's legacy, but I also see a parallel in how well she was loved.  In Ruth 3:10-13 Boaz says about her:

 "And he said, 'May you be blessed by the Lord, my daughter.  You have made this last kindness greater than the first in that you have not gone after young men, whether poor or rich.  And now, my daughter, do not fear.  I will do for you all that you ask, for all my fellow townsmen know that you are a worthy woman.  And now it is true that I am a redeemer.  Yet there is a redeemer nearer than I.  Remain tonight and in the morning, if he will redeem you, good; let him do it.  But if he is not willing to redeem you, then, as the Lord lives, I will redeem you.  Lie down until the morning."

My grandpa always saw himself as the one who won over Ann.  His beauty, his bride.  My grandparents met and married within 9 months.  My grandma was definitely a Ruth, and she found her Boaz.  It says in verse 18:

"She (Naomi) replied, 'Wait, my daughter, until you learn how the matter turns out, for the man will not rest but will settle the matter today."

My grandpa wanted to settle the matter and marry his Ann as soon as he could.  I never went a day wondering if my grandpa was proud of his beautiful bride or if my grandma felt loved and protected.  They loved each other well—provided for, laughed with, and complimented one another.  A family friend reminded me that while she always had big expressive eyes, my grandpa has always had a twinkle in his eye—what a couple to surround yourself with.  What a life and a love to live. 

 I also see my grandma in the way that my mom loves.  The way that she comforts through her own breaking and aching heart.  I see my grandma in the way we grew up with my mom reading to us.  I see them both by reaching into my jacket pocket (after they borrow it) and pulling out a left behind (sometimes used) Kleenex, "just in case".  My grandma raised an amazing woman, who has loved me and cared for me well.  When life throws you a curve ball and you can choose to laugh or cry about it I grew up surrounded by two women strong enough to laugh.  What a legacy the Lord has built.

 I see echoes of Martha, the Mary's, and Ruth in my grandma.  I see echoes of Boaz in my grandpa.  And I even see beautiful echoes of my grandma in my mom.  But the real truth is it's not about the women or men.  It's that they are all echoing Jesus.  They are chasing after Him with their whole hearts and they start to fall in line with who He is.  It's a legacy of His faithfulness because it’s a legacy of Him.  He fills us with His Spirit.  He bears fruit in and through us.  I am so thankful that God created and is creating His legacy through His children—and today I rejoice in knowing that my Grandma is a part of that legacy.  I want to be like her, because she was like Jesus. 

 Now I know she’s either dancing the Charleston with Jesus, or parked next to Him asking all of the questions that have been building through a lifetime of curiosity.  I love you forever, grandma.  See you soon. 

 

Peace In His Pace

I've never been a runner.  I'll chase after a soccer ball or a tennis ball any day, but I have never had the desire to go out and run "just because" or "for fun".  Despite my lack of enthusiasm for running I ended up helping out with "kids on the go" at school this year.  Typically the girls run or walk at their pace and I do my own thing—speaking words of encouragement when I can.

This past Tuesday I expected it to be the same.  I had a pack of four or five girls who were right with me, but one-by-one they started to fade away in the first loop we were running.  What was uncommon was one fourth grader who didn't fade away.  I was honestly wondering how long it would last, but she stuck right with me—a look of determination on her face.

As I was running with this ten year old girl, God started speaking to me about Hebrews 12:1, which says:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us..."

I started thinking about this crazy race we are all running.  I've heard speakers warn that it's a marathon—not a sprint.  That we need to stay the course and to not burn out.  I've also heard speakers talk about not wanting to have anything left when you get to the finish line.  To run hard for the whole thing and to finally collapse at the end when you hear: "well done good and faithful servant" (Matt. 25:21).  I see truth in both of these things.

Coming from a girl who does not know how to pace out a run to save her life, the question is: how hard do you run.  I hate running to the point that I run hard the whole time, simply to make it end sooner—which makes me hate it even more because I'm gasping for air the entire time.  It's really a pathetic sight to see.  But what about life?  How do we keep the right pace every day—all day—through it all?

When I ran with this determined fourth grader I started to think about how she was using me as a "pacer".  She knew that if she stuck with someone setting a pace for her she would stay on track for the whole run—not just the beginning.  God just started to remind me that He is our pacer.  He is the only one that sees this whole race and knows exactly where He is taking us and at what speed we need to push on.

How many times have we been the girl at the start of the run, excited to keep with His pace, just to fade back away?  Or tried to sprint ahead to make that stretch of trail pass by quicker?  If I'm being honest I haven't just been there in a physical run, but in my life race as well.

Hebrews 12 goes on to say in verse 2:

"Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."

Looking to Jesus.  Go ahead and run—run this race—but keep your eyes on Jesus.  He is the keeper of all things.  He is the keeper of time.  Of the trail—as well as the trial.  Of nourishment.  Of encouragement.  He is your keeper and He has you. 

As my fourth grade companion and I ran around people in the path, we would be forced to separate, run around the obstacle, and carry on.  What I noticed though, was that when we came back together she would creep closer and closer.  Eventually I had to be careful not to bump her with my arm as she glued right on my hip.  Isn't this such a picture of what our race with Jesus should be like?

Where our eyes are fixed is honestly where we always end up.  I've witnessed and experienced it firsthand skiing with friends this winter—the outcome can either make you thrive, or it can hurt.  It all just depends where you chose to fix your focus. 

I want to fix my eyes on Jesus—everyday creeping a little bit closer to His hip as we run this race.  I want to feel the pace He is setting and hear the words of encouragement He is speaking.  I find as I get closer to Him, it's a whole lot harder to hold on to those weights and sins mentioned in the first verse. 

A little later this week my heart was burdened for the people running hard without any reprieve—without any joy—without a "pacer" for this insanely difficult race of a life.  Psalm 16:4 tells us:

"The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply; their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out or take their names on my lips."

I just want all of these people to have eyes to see that you can run this race with both endurance and joy.  There is an Encourager who pushes you to run hard but gives you an unimaginable joy through every moment.  Psalm 16 goes on to say in verses 6-11:

"The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.  I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me.  I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also dwells secure.  For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let your holy one see corruption.

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."

We are never promised that our race will be any "easier" as a believer—but there are verses upon verses that talk about the fullness of joy that Jesus provides.  He is so faithful to go before us and to run beside.  He sees your race, friend.  He knows the trails that probably hold some trials.  He is pacing your run for you.  Draw near and listen because He is leading you on the path of life.

When we got to the end of our run I could almost tangibly feel the pride flood through my body over this ten year old girl that set her mind to run with endurance.  It was such a powerful picture for me of our Heavenly Father's love for us and desire for us to push on in this crazy life.  He is our pacer, our provider, and deserves all of our praise!  Push on, friend.  He's got you, so you’ve got this.  

Treasure

As the school year is coming to a close I can't help but start to get a little sentimental.  I looked at my little tribe today and thought about where we started at the beginning of the year.  I thought of how much growth they have made and the trials that they have overcome.  This year definitely wasn't perfect—we had our fair share of struggles—but there was still so much life and growth that we experienced together. 

As I felt compelled to soak it all up—my kids' personalities, giftedness, senses of humor, and little hearts—I was reminded of Jesus' mother, Mary.  The Lord opened my eyes to Mary's reaction when the angel came to the shepherds and told them that the Savior, Christ the Lord, was born that day and would be lying in a manger.  Scripture tells us in Luke 2:16-20:

"And they (the shepherds) went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger.  And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child.  And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them.  But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.  And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them."

It is unimaginable what it would be like to be the mother of Jesus.  To see the Savior grow from a babe to an adult.  Your Savior.  But she was faithful to treasure up all of the signs and wonders that God sent to her, and to ponder them within her very being.  

It is very clear in scripture that it is not always easy on this earth to follow Jesus.  That we need to daily take up our cross and follow Him—being His mother definitely didn't make the pain an easier burden to bear.  Praise the Lord that He is faithful to give us the strength to do it!  A little later in Luke 2 we are told in verses 33-35:

"And his father and mother marveled at what was said about him (Jesus).  And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, 'Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.'"

Mary faced a life of rejection—of being an outcast.  There were still a lot of people that thought of her as a liar when it came to the conception of Jesus.  They thought she was either crazy for believing that she carried the Son of God or a con-artist—one that was unwilling to face the reality of her own sin.  Not to mention the immense pain she would face from watching Jesus go through the unbelievable suffering that He bore at His crucifixion.  The sword pierced through her soul also.  What an amazing woman to study.

As I looked at my first grade babes I just felt God telling me to learn from Mary.  To soak in all of the joys, the growth, to treasure it and store it up in my heart.  

It goes on in Luke to teach about when Jesus was twelve and His parents couldn't find Him among their group for three days.  They found Him teaching in the temple.

"And he said to them, 'Why were you looking for me?  Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?'  And they did not understand the saying that he spoke to them.  And he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was submissive to them.  And his mother treasured up all these things in her heart."  Luke 2:49-51

And they did not understand.  Mary had the faith to not understand, but to trust.  To rest in the little wonders that were being revealed to her.  To treasure them up—to strengthen her heart for what was to come.  She witnessed and observed and didn't always understand what God was doing—but she always treasured. 

When I think of storing things up I think of dusty storage units and shoving the junk wherever it will fit (which is telling of my own personal organizational skills).  It wasn't just that Mary was storing these ideas or these memories for later—she was treasuring.  She saw these moments—even moments that she didn't understand—as precious gems to keep.  To value.  

I want to look out at passing moments and take in precious gems.  To keep what He is doing every day, and to ponder it in my heart.  To have a bank of priceless treasures to wonder at, even on the hardest days.  When I don't yet understand the majesty of the moment I want to treasure it.  I want to have a heart after Jesus, and I think that looks like Mary's heart.  She loved Him.  I mean, she loved Him.  She loved him in a way that is unimaginable.  To be His earthly mother and to know Him as her personal Savior.  I think that is an intimacy with Jesus to be desired.  

I feel the Lord tugging at me these last few weeks of school to be Mary.  To let myself wonder at what He has done this past school year and what He is continuing to do.  Because, guys, what He has done is miraculous.  I am in awe of the ways that He has moved and the things that He has done.  

He is so worthy of our praise—and what a good, good Father to give us this bank of countless precious gems and treasures that take up residence in our hearts.  No one can take away these heavenly treasures that He is keeping in His own children's hearts.  And that's what He is doing, storing amazing, miraculous, powerful heavenly truths within us.  Not because He needs to or we deserve it, but because He rejoices in His children.  He wants to share His awesome gifts with us.

Thank you, Lord.

"For the Lord takes pleasure in his people; 

he adorns the humble with salvation.

Let the godly exult in glory;

let them sing for joy on their beds." Psalm 149:4-5 

The Minefield

This world is a minefield.  We are in a battle and so much of the time the weapons we are facing are tucked away under the surface—until you hit them and they're no longer hidden.  Its, at times, explosive.  As I keep hearing of achy circumstances at church, at school, with family, and across our world I was given this picture of a mine field.  That's what it feels like.  How do you live this one earthly life navigating landmine after landmine?

"In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory."  

Ephesians 1:7-12

As I read these verses this week I was refreshed by the truth that we have been predestined according to His purpose and He is working all things according to His will.  If the Creator of the universe has this overarching plan to eternally save you according to His plan, wouldn't He have an overarching plan to keep you, to equip you, to guide you through the rest of this earthly life?  He goes on to tell us in Ephesians 1:13-14:

"In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory."

We are guaranteed as sons and daughters of the King of kings that we will receive our inheritance—He is keeping us as we have been sealed by His very Spirit!  Then in verses 15-21 we are told:

"For this reason, because I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come."

God grants a spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him.  When this world feels like we are dodging explosives that are tucked away He is not hidden.  He makes himself known and He enlightens the eyes of our heart to carry on.  I believe that He is whispering guidance—giving us light to see what step to take next as we face the battle field.  He is going before and is our shield.  

My heart breaks for the people who don't know Him.  Who are cowering through this battle—trying to inch through the full expanse of this field with heartaches all around.  Our prayer should be with them as we look around and see the excruciating pain of this world that they are facing without a Victor.  Because as His children I believe our Victor not only equips us to walk through, and around, and over the trials, but even to dance through them with joy.

"Let them praise his name with dancing, making melody to him with tambourine and lyre!  For the Lord takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with salvation."  Psalm 149:3-4

I feel that the Lord has been speaking to me about remembering what this means for the body of Christ, as believers, facing this rocky course set before us.  He tells us where to step—avoiding the snare of the evil one.  He is mighty and capable—nothing surprises Him and He knows the name of every landmine.  I think as believers we need to seek His voice and step where He is directing.  

Though I whole-heartedly believe that God guides us away from trouble, I also believe that He equips us to walk through it.  Throughout history when you look at war, even the side that is victorious faces struggle and loss.  I believe that even as followers of Christ we hit landmines.  We hit setbacks.  We feel pain and grief.  

The questions are: what do we do with it?  Do we roll over?  Do we rise?  Do we seek the Helper—Sustainer—Provider?  

When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were facing the fiery furnace in Daniel 3 the Lord didn't remove the fire from them.  He didn't tell them to side step that landmine—instead He literally equipped them to walk through the fire.  In Daniel 3:24-25 it is recorded:

"Then King Nebuchadnezzar was astonished and rose up in haste.  He declared to his counselors, 'Did we not cast three men bound into the fire?'  They answered and said to the king, 'True, O king.'  He answered and said, 'But I see four men unbound, walking in the midst of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods.'"

What.  He is so good.  He is faithful.  He is leading and prompting.  He is equipping.  There are landmines, but He is our Champion.  We are victors because He is The Victor.  Praise the Lord!

As God has been speaking to me and reminding me that as believers we need to fix our eyes on these truths, He has also burdened my heart to pray for those walking through this fiery battle field without any hope of victory.

The Lord has burdened my heart and your heart with specific people for a reason.  I think as we battle through this life we are also battling for these broken hearts.  

Through a vivid dream this past week God reminded me of Psalm 91—specifically, to pray over the people He has burdened my heart with for this cause.  My prayer is that these verses would ring true for them:

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty...He will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.  You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.  

A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.  You will only look with your eyes and see the recompense of the wicked.

Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—the Most High, who is my refuge—no evil shall be allowed to befall you, no plague come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.  On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.  You will tread on the lion and the adder; the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.

'Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name.  When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him.  With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.'" Vs. 1, 4-16

Please Lord, command your angels regarding them—regarding us.  

This is a heavy topic, but the truth is this life is hard and sometimes I think we need to call even the achy parts out by name.  Rest in the truth that He is leading us, equipping us, and giving us victory through the small battles as well as over the whole war!  

Landmines hurt, but we are being refined and His Holy Spirit is keeping us.  Just as He assured us in Ephesians, we are guaranteed an inheritance.  Let the victory lead you to praise just as it did in 2 Chronicles 20:27-28:

"Then they returned, every man of Judah and Jerusalem, and Jehoshaphat at their head, returning to Jerusalem with joy, for the Lord had made them rejoice over their enemies.  They came to Jerusalem with harps and lyres and trumpets, to the house of the Lord."

Thank you, Jesus, our Victor.