puzzle pieces

What if a renowned painter took his masterpiece and cut it into millions of little bits? Odd-shaped pieces that made no sense on their own, that look funny and incomplete. If you found one on the road you would immediately know this fragment is a part of something bigger. It’s an incomplete picture. A part of a whole.

What if we are puzzle pieces? Cut out of a larger design, meant to find where we fit. Only then can we see more of the beauty that is singularly realized when we are placed next to other people. When we are fitted into the spot we were originally created for.

I think we get a glimpse of this when we figure out what we are good at, the areas in which we excel. For some of us it’s math or a love of language; perhaps standing on a ballfield or painting makes our hearts sing. We discover some skill or passion and think perhaps this is my purpose. It feels good and right to hone in on, say, running or designing or counseling. We are problem solvers, peacemakers or leaders just waiting to find our spot in life. We feel energized and purposeful when we are in these roles.

So many of us are looking for where we fit in. Sometimes it’s within our own family, “What role do I play . . . the planner, the organizer or the comic relief?” Where do we plug into the work force? As the dependable one or the empathetic one? What is a good job for me with my skills and background? What about our communities, be it urban or rural? We might ask ourselves if we take or give, do we help or hurt?

These are the questions all Christians should be asking of themselves. And really it starts with the church. By church, I do not mean a particular assembly or even a physical building, but the invisible church that all believers are part of once they enter the fold. We are fitted to fill a void in the church body. Galatians 6:10: “As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith.”

It’s interesting that Paul explains the church in just such a way—as a body. “So we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another.” (Rom 12:5) A body is only valuable when it is alive and animated, it houses our spirits and our souls, and it is the spirit that is eternal, everlasting and timeless. Just like a person, if all the systems don’t work together, something gets out of whack. We need all of the parts to work in harmony.

Have you ever heard of kinesiology? The basic definition is the study of the mechanics of body movements.

It is not limited to just muscular movements, but internal systems; like how your kidney function effects the rest of your framework. Beyond that even, how the foods we eat and emotions we deal with can take a toll on the functions of our anatomy. I find this study endlessly fascinating. How everything within our body effects everything else, and sometimes it’s hard to figure out where the problems even started? Is it a milk allergy or stress. . . I could talk about this all day.

But as someone who has historically not been a big churchgoer, I have felt challenged on this issue in the last few years. After all, the Bible tells us we need each other. We need other believers, and this was the kicker for me . . . they need us!

I have told myself: I’m in the Word, I’m in Bible studies and prayer groups, I have Christian community, I listen to teachings online. I have described it as a pieced-together church. I have all the elements without the actual commitment to a group of people. I hand-picked my group; these are people I like and get along with, what could be wrong with that?

While there is nothing “wrong” with it, I have come to see that it isn’t the full picture. Our personal friend groups are not the same as a church. When we surround ourselves with easy, amiable and like-minded people, we are not challenged to serve the unlovely or practice patience or self-control as much as we are when in a church setting—be it a huge assembly or a growing home church. It’s easier to sacrifice for people who appreciate me and love me. Now that is great, we should all be so blessed; but what about the more challenging teachings of loving the people who are difficult, if someone asks you to walk a mile, walk two or forgive someone 70x7? Am I called to do these things only in my bespoken group of friends?

Perhaps for some of us it’s easier to serve in a big setting where it isn’t personal and apt to get messy. We can sorta melt away and know others will pick up the slack. While as Christians, we are all in the big invisible church of believers, we are also to plug into a smaller piece of the puzzle. In our homes, workplaces, towns, schools and of course churches. In these places we can bring something to the table, something that might be missing. . . if we didn’t show up. God has shaped us and formed us through our experiences, our natural gifts and acquired knowledge to play a role in the body. To keep it working properly.

Have you asked God what your role is?

Have you spent time in prayer seeking His direction for your life?

What part are you uniquely suited to play?

Sometimes we need someone to pray for us. Last week, I talked to a friend going through a really hard time and she said she couldn’t even pray, I immediately knew my role, I could pray when she could not. What about when someone is tired and weary from struggles, what a blessing if we were to clean their house or make them a meal. When others have questions about the Bible we can meet them for coffee and talk it through. If a friend needs some words of encouragement, we can speak against the enemy’s lies. We all have different strengths to offer our church and community. Nobody is going to ask me to make them a meal, or it they did they would quickly have regrets; but if they are stuck on a biblical principle, I might get a phone call. This is a spot I have been fitted to fill, and I’m really glad there are people I can call to help put my house in order or drive me in bad weather.

We feel how uncomfortable it is to be slotted into the wrong spot. We are called to stretch ourselves for sure, I’ve had to bring a dish to pass (so stressful) while someone else is pushed to witness when its uncomfortable. But I sometimes wish we could have a barter system of spiritual gifts. Could someone come get my house ready for guests and I’ll talk to your co-worker about the Bible. I have actually done this and it’s great. To me this a well-working church body. Trading off our strengths and weaknesses.

This is why we need the church. I need people to speak truth over me, pray for me, expose my delusions when I’m looking at things wrong or believing lies. When we “Walk in the Spirit” we will “by love serve one another.” (Gal 5:13) Once we become believers, this is part of the call on our life. The assignment is greatest in our own homes (and usually the hardest place to walk out the fruits of the spirit). Next is to other believers, our siblings-in-Christ, this is no easy feat either. We often expect more of these people, and yet we all disappoint and need grace and understanding even when we “know better.” When we walk out in the world we often have lower expectations, so in some ways it’s easier to be forgiving and patient. Yet, we serve in all these fields, We are needed and fashioned to bring God’s truth and love everywhere we go, no matter how it’s received. No matter if it’s reciprocated. No matter if we feel equipped or not. No matter if we feel like it . . .

Our gifts are not for us to elevate ourselves, but to bring glory to God. To serve others and point towards His kingdom; away from the temporal towards the eternal, and away from death towards life. Our gifts are a shadow of God’s goodness, that when fitted together with others’ gifts, make a more complete picture of how God designed the church to function.

If we could somehow step back and look at the whole puzzle neatly fitted together, we would see how there was an intentional design all along, with a cross shaped piece right in the middle.

It is only when Christ is at that the center that any of it makes sense. His love brings order to the chaos. Meaning to the meaningless. Value to the mundane. He alone gives us purpose, fitting us into the exact spot we were shaped for in this life.  

Further reading:

A lesson from childhood: Sharing

You should subscribe!

Please share my website

Like and leave a comment. I love to hear from you.

Would you consider praying for my ministry? I would love your support.

Drafts on Invasive Species: dealing with Negative Thoughts

When negative thoughts show up in our thinking

Invasive species are unwelcome organisms that show up in a place they don’t belong. These uninvited intruders then proceed to cause trouble and damage to the environment because they don’t want to comingle; they want to take over. I remember as a student, we learned about zebra mussels and how they were coming into Lake Michigan and wreaking havoc. What is interesting about them, though, is that they don’t do much; they just cling, No one notices or thinks much about these unassuming fingernail-sized mollusks. This is how our thought life works. We are sailing along and we don’t even notice invasive thoughts moving in on us. Maybe it’s a little voice that says “you aren’t good enough, or someone else would do this better, or look what they have or you have every right to act this way.” We quietly agree with it without hardly noticing, like a little crustacean attaching to our mind. It’s not really doing any harm . . . right?

Just as it takes years and generations for an invasive species to really settle in, the same is true with our inner thought life. Perhaps generations of people in a family have agreed with an invasive thought. “Nothing ever works out for us, it will always be too hard, we mess everything up.” Some may have grown up hearing people in their lives say things that put them down right from the start (these negative thoughts have been passed down the family tree). If someone, especially a person of authority, like an older family member or teacher plants an unkind seed in our minds we often water it over the years by repeating it to ourselves until it grows into a dark vine that poisons our thinking. (Now, of course, the same is true of good thoughts—we bless others when we speak the words of God over them. This is a great ministry and think of the benefit to family generations.)

The concept of Invasive thoughts had never even crossed my mind until a few years ago. I just assumed the way I thought was, well, just the way I thought. I never considered that the enemy (sometimes through other people) was slowly trying to take over my thinking. If he can get a foothold in my cognitive life, I will be much more vulnerable to temptation. If I think I’m no good and not worth much why wouldn’t I move into depression, anger or unkindness. If I think I’m a failure why would I try to be useful to the Lord. If I can’t do anything right why would I try to help others. The invasive thoughts have taken over and will start to control my environment. Not only will they spread quickly, they will get a stranglehold on good thoughts.

We recently moved into a new house and my neighbor asked me how I felt about the ivy growing at the edge of my property. Well, I’m a big ivy fan so I told him I really liked it. He proceeded to tell me how he had introduced the ivy in his backyard, thinking it would be good ground cover, not realizing, because it wasn’t a native species, that it would take over and kill the other plant life, including trees! Gasp! These thin, pretty little green vines could take down whole trees? Sure enough he showed me how the ivy was already growing up one of the trees and it was in fact losing limbs. I felt instantly conflicted because I really love ivy. I mean an ivy covered building is beyond charming. But! I also love trees. What a picture of my internal struggle. I don’t really want to get rid of the invasive thoughts. I have become comfortable, even grown fond of them, like the ivy vines.

I am a pessimist after all and that is just fine with me. If you read my last post on my struggles with joy, you will know I do not naturally find the joy in life. Looking on the brighter side seems exhausting! How do people do it? My negative thoughts or self-talk had snaked their way through my brain so that the truth was being squeezed out. The enemy is afoot! He works his way into our brains, convincing us that these thoughts are our own and not warfare. The best way to take down a country, a company, a person is to attack from within. If the opposing side can plant someone on the inside, half the work is done. It’s hard to make it over the borders or walls, but if someone is already inside wreaking havoc, it won’t be long before barricades are rendered useless because the infiltrator can simply open a door or a channel to the enemy.

Do you have an open door for the enemy to enter your thought life?

Have you ever examined your inner voice? Is it even yours?

Do those thoughts belong there?

The Bible teaches us that many, if not most, of our battles start in our minds. Before something manifests in our physical life, it was a tiny seed or simple crustacean hanging out unnoticed. Jesus talked about how, if we sin in our minds, it as as if we have sinned in the flesh. (Check out the beatitudes in Matthew 5) Why did he say this? Is it actually the same thing? If I think about stealing or lying but don’t actually act on the impulse, surely that is better then going through with the act. But I believe Jesus’s point was that these thoughts, if not dug out of the soil of our minds, will go on to produce dark fruit. If, however, we plant seeds of truth and allow them to flourish they will produce a hedge of protection against self-sabotage, harm and brokenness. These are the borders we need to put in place to protect us from these invasive thoughts. Because they will come!

We have to start by reading the Word of God so that we are filling our mind with truth; this alone will push out many of those killer thoughts. Colossians 3 says to set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth (v2) . . . Put to death therefore what is earthly in you (v5). We need to pray and ask for help in knowing the difference between what is our thoughts (a.k.a. the enemies) and the thoughts the Lord would have us dwell on. Psalm 19:14 says “let the words of my mouth and the mediation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord my rock and my redeemer.” Also, we need community to encourage us along the way. Finding a church, a Bible study, and a believing friend are essential to keeping back the invaders.

Be ruthless with these thoughts, rip out the ivy, scrape off the barnacles before they take over. Cut them off, burn them in the redeeming flames of Christ’s love and fill the holes with the voice of the Shepard. Jesus says my sheep hear my voice. He, although at times is convicting, is never condemning. (We desire change because we love the Lord and trust that He has good things for us). God asks for change (to the point of death to self) but he does not ask us to do it alone. The Lord has provided us with all the tools to carry out this near impossible task . . . my burden is light and my yoke is easy. Pick up your Bible, get down on your knees, reach out to other Christians and start to change your thinking and your life. You are made in the image of God, bought and paid for at great cost, not without hope, not without purpose. He has a plan for you and it is for good.

Romans 7:23 “But I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.” esv

Want to read more on this topic? Check out these articles

The Hitch: Feeling Stuck?

Soul Wounds: Do You Have Any?

I could really use your support.

Would you consider praying over this ministry and sharing the website so it can reach more people that need encouragement?

Share this site with your circles and repost on your social media sites.

I am so encourage by your likes and comments.

Thank you!

Drafts on Being Faithful in Little

One who is faithful in a very little

is also faithful in much . . .

Luke 16:10a

Cold rain hits the windshield followed by the irritating scrape of the wipers as my car slides through the darkness. Not a great night for going out. Not a great day in general. All my worries and annoyances are riding along in the passenger seat, urging me to just turn around and go back home. It’s dark. It’s late. It’s raining. I’m trying to find the delicate balance between warmth and fog on my windshield, while constantly reworking the climate controls. Is this worth it?

Why venture out into the unknown? Especially when it’s warm and dry back at home? I have a cozy blanket and a steaming mug where I can just stare out the window protected from the wind and biting rain. Why leave?

Then you get a text. Can you talk? Can you meet? Can you help?

The answer can’t always be yes, but I’m trying to be open to being uncomfortable. To venturing out in a place that is not my forte. Being willing when it’s inconvenient. Saying “Here am I, Lord, send me.”

Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying,

Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?

Then said I, Here am I; send me. Isa 6:8

I’ll go

I used to think serving the Lord meant going on a mission trip or leading a Bible study, but it is not limited to these big or maybe intimidating acts. As Christians, we are called to Kingdom work and there are oh, so many jobs. Your don’t need to go to seminary and become a pastor or start a non-for-profit to be about “The Father’s business.” You can start small and close to home. You can start with “very little.”

Perhaps you have a very young and growing family and you can barely get in a hot shower, let alone, further God’s kingdom. It’s so often a time of feeling like you have very little. Very little time. Very little sleep. Very little cognitive thought past if you can wear these leggings one more day. Ironically, I found this season of my life to be very fruitful for ministry. When I had the least to give, God used me the most. Of course, we have a built-in audience with our own little ones (and this can be a topic all on its own). But I have found being a parent has put me in unique situations to speak and minister to other mothers. We are in the thick of it together; the not sleeping, constant question answering, no alone time thing. We talk over screaming kids at playdates and sit by each other screaming for our kids in sports bleachers. As we raise our kids, we walk side by side through the ups and downs of life . . . and listen to each others’ hearts.

It felt like at times, I had little to give in this season, I could speak truth, show kindness and give encouragement. I could share the hope of Christ Jesus. These women have been my ministry and they have ministered to me. Not all our conversations went somewhere, but some went really far. It’s not my job to judge the outcome but to just give from the little I have.

Serve in your field … or … playground

Who is in your life at this season? Who can you connect with that is naturally in your sphere right now? Ironically, I went into motherhood focused on its limitations, but found it to be an incredibly fruitful field. Have you forgotten that you can give from your very little? Snippets of conversations with parents in the concessions stands, texts with that new young woman at the office that seems a little lost, an encouraging note left on your neighbor’s door.

Perhaps you are not overwhelmed with a family at this season of life. You have time but, your insecurities hold you back. “I’m not good with people. I don’t know what to say. I would do it all wrong. I have nothing to give” There are many ways to serve and to give, but sometimes God asks us to step out and do something that is uncomfortable. Moses was called, yet he complained of not being a good speaker. By many accounts, Peter and other disciples are labeled “uneducated,” ordinary men who were poor and lacked training. I have found the best training is to just get out there and talk and minister to people. When I get stuck, well, that’s where I need to study. I was once in a taxi with some new friends and they asked me what it meant to be born again. Well, I had never been asked that before and had no good answer. I stumbled around for what to say, but in the end I knew I needed a good answer and I better find one. I started researching my beliefs. Nothing will spur you on like not knowing! Little is much in the hands of God . . .

So I looked into that question you asked me …

I think of the widow Jesus commended in Luke 21:1-4: “And He looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury, and He saw also a certain poor widow putting in two mites. So He said, truly I say to you that this poor widow has put in more than all; for all these out of their abundance have put in offerings for God, but she out of her poverty put in all the livelihood that she had.” This woman gave “very little” in the eyes of the world, yet she gave what she had. How often are we called to give to a point that is uncomfortable. It may not be money, but time or a place and you feel as if you have but two mites to give. A friend needs encouragement and you yourself can hardly get out of bed. A family member needs hope and you feel as if you have none to give. A co-worker asks a spiritual question to which you don’t really have an answer. But you throw your mites in the offering plate. You get out of bed and meet the friend for coffee, you speak of the hope we are given when your own heart is broken and you promise to do the research to find the answer. You give your mites.

His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.

You have been faithful over a little;

I will set you over much.

Enter into the joy of your master.

Matthew 25:21

A few years ago I was asked to join a prayer team. Let me tell you, prayer was not really my thing. I was told this prayer team met and prayed for hours. Hours! Look, a few years ago, I could barely pray 20 minutes. I would stammer and awkwardly say the same catch phrases everyone uses. Um… Lord please bless this thing we are praying about, heal the aforementioned sick people. I could add a few sentences to a group prayer, but outside of that I was not only intimidated by long prayers, I found them (whispering) boring. A prayer team? Like all they do is pray? Is there even coffee and cookies? I’m going to need a lot of caffeine and sugar.

Alright guys I’m going to take this thing around the block

In the time prior to this invitation, I had been slowly upping my prayer life. Through the guidance of a Bible study teacher, I was starting to grasp the importance of warfare prayer. I had read a few books on the topic (and of course the Bible). I listened to podcasts on prayer and repeated the prayers at the end. Repeating prayers was like riding a bike with training wheels. Simply saying what other more experienced warfare warriors said helped me learn to get my balance. I could ride longer with the help. I could leave the driveway and do a loop around the neighborhood. I started to modify and make the prayers my own. Soon I could make long strives without needing to lean on others. I practiced praying scripture, especially the Psalms. My mindset changed. Where before I saw prayer as important (isn’t it the safe answer to almost every Sunday school question after all), I now began to get it on a deeper level. Prayer was not important, it was vital, it was necessary. Prayer started (slowly) to take a prominent place in my life. I was even (gulp) offering to prayer with people in public, sometimes strangers. Who was I?

Yet, when this opportunity to be on a prayer team was offered, I did not jump at the chance. I could pray longer, sure. I had more wisdom in this area and more confidence, yet I did not love the idea of praying for hours. Although I said yes, I found myself looking for ways to get out of it; oh . . . that’s a bad time, that’s a long drive, I even got grumpy about it being at dinner time. I’ll admit I went in with a bad attitude. Driving to my first meeting, I was not happy. I was not in a right place of mind, say, to pray for hours!!

But . . . I drove there.

It was uncomfortable. I wanted to stay home and apparently eat dinner. But I kept driving. I got out of the car and I went inside and I showed up. And God met me there. He wouldn’t force me through the door, but once I was inside, he helped me off with my jacket of doubt. He met me right in that prayer group. And the training wheels came off. I prayed for hours. I prayed till I lost my voice. I was supposed to be there. That night was a turning point in my prayer life and my ministry life.

Ministry does not always feel this way. I have served in the nursery and thought, nope . . . this is not for me. I can do it in a pinch, but I feel the pinch (ya know?). Ministry can have lots of different feels. It can be hard and clunky, it can be smooth and rewarding. Areas we are good at can feel hard and areas we are bad at can, at times, feel easy. Working for God is hard work. But if we are faithful with little he will give us much.

Has the Lord has been asking you to step out in a spiritual way?

Start a Bible study (or invite that friend to a Bible study).

Be more bold in sharing the Gospel (or when someone says something that sounds like it would be good a bumper sticker, but isn’t biblical, humbly speak up).

Foster parent (or invite your kid’s friends to listen to the Bible after dinner).

Fundraise for that ministry (or instead of another shirt/mascara/extra large mocha give that money to a worthy cause).

Say something that points to the Lord next time you have opportunity (or pray for that person/situation in your head).

It’s okay to start small. Just start.

Very little can turn into very much.

****

Please subscribe and share this site with anyone who needs encouragement

Drafts on the Ordinary Life

I wear my great-grandmother Gertrude’s (this name makes me smile) wedding band on my ring finger. It is simple. Just a silver band. Very plain. Nothing anyone would notice or comment on. I actually have a rather eye-catching diamond ring sitting in my jewelry box at home, that I haven’t worn in years, opting for Grandma Gert’s ring instead. Sometime after having my son, I just found the simpleness of it better suited.

The ring dates from June 26, 1923! I know this because the exact date is etched on the ring. My great-grandfather, Robert, gave her this ring with their initials and wedding date carved inside. You see, from the outside, it looks like a perfectly ordinary, some would even say boring silver band. But if you could see inside, you would say that’s where the beauty is—hidden away. In flowery script, an important date between two important people (at least to my family) is memorialized.

How sweet to wear a great-grandmother’s ring. To know this tiny piece of jewelry was exchanged under vows by two souls that would later be responsible for producing my family (who just so happens to be some of my favorite people) is a lovely thought. I never met my great-grandma, Gertrude. We did not walk this earth at the same time; and yet, I carry a little piece of her with me everyday. It is quietly etched into the most unassuming piece of jewelry I own.

I also know some very unassuming people. They are just ordinary, everyday people. They have jobs like teachers or nurses or data analysts. They have ordinary families with the regular ups and downs; the kid that hits a home run, the dog that digs up the garden—again, the marriage on the back burner as they care for an elderly parent or whatever. Just life. Nothing eye-catching. Nothing that would make someone stop mid-conversation and say your life sounds amazing. Nobody is asking to see their plain silver band in the way you would a precious gem. Their lives don’t look like diamonds. The sun doesn’t catch on facets of their life and sparkle and dazzle all those around.

Besides, we tend to romanticize our dream job, our ideal family, that perfect trip. And, yes, these things have their moments. The promotion at work, the book deal, the vineyard wedding and the sleeping baby all have their thrill. I have had some of my own big moments—drinking coffee in Paris and seeing my first article in print! And even the everyday joys are such blessings. I delight in my friendships and in laughing with my husband and seeing my child love literature as much I do; it adds such sweetness to life. But honestly, in this season of my life, the thrilling moments are nestled in deep between just a lot of ordinary living.

Do you feel this way?

Is there just so much ordinary?

Do you feel like a plain silver band, that no one would notice?

And yet, when we become children of God, we are immediately taken out of the ordinary and remade into the extraordinary. Our plainness is transformed into breathtaking beauty, but it all takes place on the inside. Just like my ring, a very important script is written on our soul: “You are mine.” The day we say “yes” to our Lord and Savior, He claims us as His own. He immediately sets out to change us. He takes our plainness, our ordinariness and etches truth in a beautiful font upon our hearts.

So someone passing us on the street won’t stop and say, “wow, you sure are special!” And yet, if they sat with us, shared a cup of coffee and a deep conversation, they would see we are different than just the plain silver band they took us for. We are full of light. We have exchanged our heart of stone for a heart of flesh. We are like-minded with Christ and Holy Spirit led, or at least striving for these things.

When I look down at Gertrude’s ring, it does not impress me. When I look around at my life it also often fails to impress. It looks like a lot of laundry to do that will just need to be done again and again, vacuuming up dog hair that collects everyday and stacking tea cups in the dishwasher. And then there’s lunches to make, spelling words to go over, fights over screen time and who is going to walk the dog? And don’t even get me started on dinner (pasta again?). We cut the lawns, fix broken furnaces, shovel driveways and change light bulbs and I could yawn at the mundaneness of it all.

I have to remove Gertrude’s ring to be able to read the inside and see its worth. It actually wow’s me—really, when I take the time to read the inside; it’s beautiful! I have to look at the inside of my life to be impressed, as well. Behind all that cleaning and shopping and driving, behind work meetings and endless emails to be answered, behind the is-this-all-there-is thinking and there-has-to-be-more wondering is something special for the Christian.

God has written it on our hearts; He has made us special. We have been called out of darkness into His marvelous light.

We have been selected as special. We are an off-menu dish, the collection kept in the back room, let into the VIP area sorta special. You can’t tell from the outside. But we are called by God to work for Him. We have been bestowed with gifts and prayer power to change the very fabric of this world. Once we choose to follow Christ, He points directly at us and says, “I have a job for you.”

“Who me?” We look around, surely He is talking to someone else.

The guy over there with overflowing charisma or that woman with all the money and connections. Sure God could really use their lives, but not mine; did you hear about the laundry I have to do?

“Yes, you,” He says again.

Some people shake their heads and just walk away; I have nothing to offer, I think you have the wrong guy. Others say I don’t want that job, to raise these kids, work at that office, live there? I want something more exciting - with travel and covered business expenses. I don’t want a special needs child or a challenging marriage; I don’t want a ministry where I have to talk to people. What else do ya got?

But you are special. He has a special job just for you.

The Lord has been doing a work in me (in you). At times I think my life is just plain hard, but what if all this struggle in life is actually a training ground. Some of us have been training hard! Those issues in our thought life, with that parent, the guy at work. Yup. Training. So, when God calls us to encourage, help, pray, teach, admonish (gulp), we have already practiced. (Perhaps failed.) And practiced again.

Once we become a child of God, we are no long ordinary. Our struggles are no longer commonplace. And our responses are no longer typical. We have the Word of God hidden on our hearts, prayers on our lips and eyes for eternity. While we walk this earth we may look like plain silver bands, but there has been a promise written on our hearts and one day we will be like precious stones.

Perhaps you are going through a season or a whole life of really hard blows. And you are thinking, I would love some ordinary. Well, not only will the Lord take our ordinary, He will take our down right awful and use it for His glory.

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.

Isaiah 61:3 kjv

Don’t let the enemy make you feel small or plain; your worth has been etched on you by the very finger of God. Even better: Your name is written on the palm of His hands (Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands. . . Isa 59:16a). So when Satan tries to whisper in your head that you don’t matter or your life is too small or too ordinary, he is just worried. He doesn’t want you to use your God-given gifts to bring glory to the Lord. so he is trying to bury them in the everyday tedium of life. But your prayers are just as effective from a dark basement apartment as from the mountain tops. You can read Scripture over a cluttered coffee table, the same as over a still, blue lake.

You, my Christian friend, are anything but ordinary!

Please subscribe and share this post (Thank you) Also I love to hear your comments.

Drafts on the New To-Do List

Today, I came across an old to-do list. It included signing my son up for golf lessons and for art camp for the summer. It made me pause. Will our near future include sports or group activities? I was planning to attend a writing conference next month, one that I had been looking forward to for two years. It is indefinitely postponed, just like the rest of our lives. Pending. Waylaid. Held up. My packed calendar, dotted with coffee dates and meetings and deadlines is now all null and void. I’m not even attempting to reschedule, which is perhaps the most disheartening part. There is no real end in sight.

My once full calendar in now startlingly empty. As if someone took it and dumped it upside down and time scheduled for friends, work, school activities, group Bible studies and writing in a bustling coffee shop all came tumbling out and slipped away. . . just like that. One day I was worried about having enough time and then seemingly overight, wondering what to do with all the extra time.

The New Normal

While none of us have experienced an almost nation-wide quarantine, many of us have had our lives changed overnight. I know I have. More than once. Sometimes we see it coming. Perhaps a move or a divorce or a sick loved one. We know change is coming. It’s not always bad either. A marriage, a baby, a new career path. Our lives are one thing and then the next day they are another. The sudden changes are the most shocking. A few years ago, I had texted about plans with one of my best friends for later that day—but later that day, I would be standing next to her hospital bed. I never got the chance to talk with her again. It all happened so breathtakingly fast.

Perhaps you have had something sudden like this in your life? You have found yourself looking around and saying, now what? What does my life look like going forward? How do I pick up the pieces or find my new normal? How do I rebuild?

Changing Roles

Our lives have been changed almost overnight. All the liberties we’ve enjoyed; so thanklessly gone. School and work to now be conducted from the walls of our homes. So many of us woke finding our roles changed from homework helpers to full-time teachers in a live-in school where nobody ever leaves. We wade through history lessons and confusing math problems, pretending to know obscure elementary English grammar rules, while secretly looking up plural possessives. I have great ideas of writing a book or organizing the junk drawer that doesn’t even really open anymore. And yes, I have seen your posts online—quarantine day 2: organized all my closets; quarantine day 3: taught the kids to play the mandolin and grow our own sweet basil. Yet, I feel like showering and making the bed is a win for the day.

Sudden change brings out different sides in all of us. Many of you will rise to the occasion and color coordinate your homeschool folders, while my dog has walked over ours with muddy feet at least 3 times now (and I write little sorry notes to the teacher in the margin). But I’m sorry about so much more than a muddy dog print. I’m sorry I’m not a teacher or an organizer; I’m sorry I’m not using this forced time at home to achieve more around my home or write a book (although there still may be time). Apparently, not having enough time was not the real problem.

What is on your new to-do list?

As more and more is stripped away, I find there is less and less to distract me from what I really should be doing; and it’s not teaching or writing or cleaning or even panicking. It’s seeking God. Long prayers where I lay it all out—the way I do on coffee dates with girlfriends. Time spent in study, deep study where I doggedly sniff out the meaning layered in the ancient words. And just time at His feet, waiting for healing in my heart and direction in my life. Who is God? Where is He in this? How is it with my whole city shut down, basically my life outside of this house, that I’m still distracted from doing what I need to do? Somehow I’m still focused on the wrong things. God says. . . Know Me. Trust Me. But I’m distracted by my worry of what this all means.

The last year or so I have spent my mornings in prayer. This is the one part of my pre-quarantine life I have held onto (it surely isn’t a normal bedtime). My prayers have gotten noticeably longer. More requests tacked on to the end til the appendix is as long as the book itself. I pray for all eight of our parents by name (and my grandparents); I mention my friends one by one, lining them up before me with their specific needs during this time. I ask for stability in a space that feels like it could easily tip. I ask that we will be extra sensitive to the leading of the Holy Spirit—pray for this person (maybe even call them); tell us where we can go and where not to go. Help me listen to the still small voice in new ways. I pray for our leaders, our decision makers. I pray that fear will not drive us (me), but that we will have a peace and trust in God almighty.

Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust: cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; for I lift up my soul unto thee.

Psalm 143:8

Is your Bible worn with good use?

Life can change without any notice. We prepare for a life of singleness and meet someone. We build our forever home and have to move. We meet new friends we weren’t even looking for and we say goodbye to people we thought would always be there. What is that saying? “The only constant in life is change.” Will this generation ever look at a fever and cough the same way? Will we at times stop and look at full grocery store aisles and think what a beautiful sight. I believe gathering with friends will feel less like an everyday activity and more like something special.

Uncovered Idols

I have been studying the books of Kings and seeing how Israel turned its back on God and chased after other gods. What gods have we chased as a nation? What have I chased personally? Is this a time of calling us back? A time of taking away our idols? Sports. Beauty. Money. Success. Family. I have sat in the dark of my bedroom and asked God to show me where I have gone astray. Where is my heart off? Where have I let things creep in? I believe the world is (has) changed in a very fundamental way and I want to emerge from this time ready for what awaits. I pray that I will “hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering . . . “ and that it will keep me steadfast and rooted. I think more will be asked of me. More confidence in what the Word of God says, more boldness in my life and quick, ready answers for those who ask, why I follow God’s words.

I hope in many ways this does change me. That it teaches me to trust in the Lord more. I found my weak spots in this very quickly. How about you? I read the Word and I pray like I mean it (because I do), but yet worry sneaks in like a tick, unnoticed. It digs in deeper each day trying to poison my faith. I need to treat it like the invasive demon bug that it is. I need to pluck it out with cold, hard tweezers. With precision and purpose, dropping everything else I’m doing and dig it out before it causes real and lasting damage.

What do you need to go after?

What is God calling you to during this time?

Know His Word.

Pray like it changes things.

Teach your kids (family/friends) the most important homeschool lesson of all.

Minister to others.

Who will you be after all this is over? The same or someone different?

Drafts On Soul Wounds

We all have vulnerable spots. I’m sensitive to bright lights, as everyone in my life will attest. I have never met a dimmer switch I didn’t love. We have two light switches in my bathroom. One goes to a lovely muted luminary that bathes the room in soft warm colors. The other activates three fluorescent lights that are equivalent to the white hot glow of an operating room. I never ever use that light. It feels like a direct switch to a headache. I don’t care if I have something in my eye or need to remove a sliver out of a child’s foot, it will be done in that low lighting. While the rest of my family uses this other light switch without a thought; they even seem to enjoy all the extra eye-popping brightness.

In the same way my eyes are sensitive to bight lights, my emotions also have weak spots. Things that have happened to me in the past have caused wounds. Like when people talk about sisters, it sometimes feels like a prick. I have to quietly deal with a wound that no one can see. I lost a sister. So, when someone starts causally talking about plans they have with their sister or how they talk everyday or even how annoying they might be, I can’t help but feel that loss. Time has healed much of that wound, but it’s still there. Nobody means to hurt me, of course. Some days it doesn’t even phase me, but other days it cuts; but I just keep smiling and nodding. I don’t want my friends to not mention their sisters.

Perhaps all your friends are getting married and you just experienced a terrible breakup. How do you get through those wedding showers and sit at a table with your parents pretending to be happy when inside you are hurting? You can’t ask people to not get married, you can’t not be happy for them. But there is a wound there that nobody can see. We have all had losses. A friend mentions how her dad fixed her car and you never even met your dad. A wound is touched. Your co-worker is buying a house when you are thinking you might have to move back home to save money. You started a ministry that can’t seem to get any funding while others seem to flourish. We try to hide our invisible hurts, so no one sees us flinch when when they talk about their spouse, their baby, their job . . .

The Enemy Hits Us Where it Hurts the Most

The places we feel like we aren’t enough are the places the enemy hits hardest, because it does the most damage—the quickest. If you were in a fight with a guy who had a broken arm, where are you going to punch him? In the place that will bring him to his knees. We are in a spiritual battle and our adversary does not play fair! You have a difficult child who is hard to parent, where will you get attacked? There! Someone will point out what you are doing wrong (when they don’t know anything about it). And bam! The enemy has you reeling. Your marriage is struggling and someone will go on about how great their marriage is and how it just gets better every year while yours seems to get harder. A hit in just the right spot. You feel stuck in your office job and are wondering about purpose when your roommate from college calls to announce they are opening their own business. You are glad this conversation is over the phone so they can’t see your face while you take the hit.

We do not feel the punches in our strong areas. If you rock at your job or have an easy marriage or are about to get a book published, comments can be made and they just roll off because you know they aren’t true. We are attacked in the vulnerable places. In the spots we worry about or the areas we carry a hurt or that secret fear. How do you recover when you are punched in a broken spot? Those comments can take your breath away, make you lose your footing. You want to just lay on the ground. It’s easy to be mad at that person or the situation, but we need to remember that it’s often the enemy at work and this is what he does. If you are in a knife fight, you can’t be surprised when you get cut. Yet, I find myself surprised. Like . . . “hey, that hurt!”

Don’t be Mistaken: We Are in A Battle

This life is a battle; it isn’t practice, it’s the real thing. We are in active combat. This is why the Bible instructs us to pray on the amour of God each day (Ephesians 6). Not because we are going to spar with a friend, but because we are in battle everyday—if we like it or not (1 Peter 4:12). So, when the enemy (through that guy at work or even your sweet grandma) says just the right thing, that speaks to your biggest hurts and fears you can know immediately you are in a fight for your emotions and your heart. The point is to take you down. To make you doubt God’s love (If God loved me, would I have lost my sister?). To make you doubt your calling (I’m not good at talking about my faith, maybe I should just be quiet). To make you doubt the hard things (someone else would be a better parent to this child). To make you doubt your purpose (Shouldn’t I find happiness in my family/job/ministry—maybe there is something more?).

As if the hard things shouldn’t be hard.

As if the struggles can and should be avoided.

As if the lies are true.

We must be ready for battle. We must suit up and pray up and read up. The Bible will instruct you; the prayers will empower you; the Holy Spirit will lead you. You have everything you need to fight the good fight. But you will get hurt. Nobody goes into war thinking they will emerge the same. They will be shot at, wounded and hardened by the blows of the enemy. From each battle we emerge with more experience (2 Tim 2:4). I know if I don’t start my day in prayer, I’m already set up for some blows. It’s not that prayer stops the blows; actually, I think it often “ups” them, but I’m ready to handle them.

If we are wounded, it is much harder to keep fighting. We often need others to drag us to safety. We need to go to the medic. Who is our Great Physician? Who is the Healer of our souls? The very One who created us, will also heal us. When we bring our soul wounds to Him, our Lord and Savior will do a great work in us. Sometimes it is major surgery (which could be preformed under the lights in my bathroom!). When we come to Christ, our loving Father lays us out and removes our hearts of stone and give us new hearts.

Ezekiel 36:26-27

“And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.”

He will give you a new heart

Nobody questions the major undertaking of a heart transplant. Getting a new spiritual heart is pretty major, also. It changes our life in dramatic ways. Things that used to bring us pleasure become dull, as we shift from a selfish worldly view to an eternal spiritual view. There are aspects of this change that happen suddenly. I once sat with a friend in my home and could see the heaviness of her past etched in her face; yet, a few moments later when she came to the Lord, it was instantly lifted. One of the first things she said after we prayed was, “The heaviness is gone!” She didn’t need to tell me. I could see it in her face. She met her Saviour and he removed her heavy heart and put in a living/beating heart that pushed blood through her soul into places that were formally crippled.

Other changes come on slowly, over years as our new hearts pump the oxygenated blood of new life to parts of our souls we thought were dead. Healing soul wounds that were caused by sin done to us, sin we fell into, perhaps, because of a family cycle of hurt or a temptation that we thought would soothe our wounds. But, in fact, it deepened the damage. I have been walking with the Lord several decades and just in the last few years, I have come to realize some of the places I carry wounds. Instead of letting air and light get to them where they can heal, I instinctively hide them, keeping them in the dark where they fester and spread into other aspects of my life.

Let the Healing Begin

I asked the Holy Spirit to expose them, so I could pray for the healing I didn’t even understand I needed. The wounds I had wrapped up in the loss of my sister were many and painful. There are ways I unknowingly respond to life—reacting in hurt or depression, never connecting it back to that vulnerable spot. God has removed much of that weight, just by exposing it. When something pricks me, I can say I know why this hurts. I don’t want to react in a way that brings me low. I can feel sad. I can feel the loss. But, I don’t want my reactions to be something that causes me to sin or causes me to pull back when I should be pushing in.

What soul wounds do you have in your life?

Can you connect some of your seemingly odd or extreme reactions to that hurt?

What if you asked the Lord to start healing those spots?

The Lord keeps showing me that He is enough. His grace is sufficient. The things I think I need to be okay are the very places He will fill. The hurts are a reminder that this world is not home. I have a promise that I will see my sister again (along with others gone ahead). Meanwhile, He has brought women into my life that I call sister . . .and my heart fills. I stand up in their weddings and the program says—sister to the bride. And that wound closes a little. I have a group of women in my life that are as dear to me as sisters. We have a depth in our relationships that I imagine is as deep as a blood sister (and perhaps deeper in some cases). That spot is very tender, but not as gut-wrenching as it was at one time. The term “soul sister” means more to me than most.

Ask the Lord to reveal your wounds so you can ask for healing in those areas

Have you already experienced some healing? Was it instant or slowly over time?

If you feel led to support my ministry in anyway, I would love to hear from you.

Drafts on The Unlived Life

Your flight has been canceled! How many times have we arrived to the terminal to be told those soul-crushing words. We had a plan. A ticket, even, as proof of the direction (literally) our life was headed. We had it all mapped out only to be told we would not be partaking in those particular plans. Has there ever been a more fitting metaphor for life? When we are young we make such grand plans. With nary a thought for cost, delays or an entire re-routing. We say such things as, “I shall never get married” or “I will have three kids, two boys and a girl,” with no concept of any interference. We boldly pronounce that we will leave town as soon as we can, securing a flat in a faraway country or a lavish ocean-front home. Dreams are free. Free of cost, free of reality. Free of the entanglements and strange twists of life. But all too often dreams get canceled.

We are just coming off the holidays and I always try to make a point of watching It’s a Wonderful Life. I have seen this movie more times than I can count; I even acted in the play in college. The older I get the more I realize just what George gave up. I’m sure you are familiar with the movie, but in a slight recap, George Bailey has big plans. He grows up dreaming of travel and excitement. In one scene he is purchasing a suitcase for his adventures. The first piece of luggage he is shown is met with a head shake, no that is not big enough! It will never hold the numerous stickers from all the countries he plans to visit. He has a life plan and it is getting out of his little town to see the world. Bag in hand he heads out to say goodbye to friends and family. But, alas, George never puts one sticker on that suitcase. It turns out he didn’t need the extra large one, or for that matter, any luggage at all. That life was canceled.

Do you have a suitcase in your closet for that life you never lived? Most of us do. Have you packed up a wedding dress that never walked down an aisle or put away baby clothes that were never used? Did you plan to finish college and got sidetracked by a baby? The move to Paris or Rome never materialized and you live in the same town where you grew up. The job pays the bills, but you had dreams of a career in fashion or owning your own restaurant. You thought you would go out to conquer the world, but instead you deal with chronic pain or depression and conquering the day is all you can manage. Or you were going to show your kids the world and everything you loved as a child, but they live in their own quiet world that you can’t quite reach.

Most of us are George Bailey with a life unlived. We did the right thing, we stepped up when a parent needed help, we held back when a child needed us. We pay the medical bills instead of booking that voyage. We take in a struggling friend or we do rounds of endless doctor appointments with our spouse. We put the suitcase in the closet and shut the door. Perhaps you made a series of wrong decisions. Invested in the wrong person, left when you should have stayed, stayed when you should have left. Either way you feel like George when it all starts to cave in around you. You look longingly at the empty suitcase and think if only . . .

We Make Resolutions (And Then Life Happens)

So here we sit in the foothills of the mountain that is this year; this decade even, and we are asked to make New Year’s resolutions. To write down what we hope to achieve these next 365 days. I can strive to write more, have less clutter in my house and find something to be thankful for each day. But the truth is I will forget about these small goals in a month’s time. We never talk about these aspirations in March or July. They are long forgotten because life happens. We move again, someone gets sick, someone gets born, we switch jobs, we age. There are triumphs of course. We meet the right person, we get a promotion, we start a business, we finish school. But the trouble with even achievements is that they fade. In It’s a Wonderful Life, George has wonderful things happen. He marries a lovely woman, has four children, helps countless friends, grows the business and supports his country during wartime. He is a beloved pillar of his community.

I do not for one minute think, if George had left town that day and taken his trip, we wouldn’t be having this same discussion—it would just be in reverse. He would have traveled, but never found, say, love or real meaning. He would see the world, but have no sense of home. We humans are genius at longing for what we do not have. If it wasn’t that thing, it would be another. I’m easily tricked into thinking, if I had what I wanted, than I wouldn’t want what I have now. That if I had gotten on that “flight,” I would be happier somehow. I would have a wonderful life. But it is a lie. If we travel, we long for home. If we are secure, we want adventure. If we have responsibilities, we want none and if we have none, we ache for them. We are funny, fickle creatures. Always chasing something. Always wanting more . . . or less.

We are always chasing something.

Always wanting more … or less

We all have suitcases in our closets

I can tell you my perfect life as I’m sure you can tell me yours. We are told the trick is balance. But we can’t, no matter how hard we try, stay in balance; we just hit it once and while, on the way to being out of balance. I’m all for being mindful and intentional. Make New Year’s goals; I did! But what the Bible says in Philippians 4: 11-13 is true; we must learn to be content in whatever state we find ourselves—in plenty and in need. I’m always in both these spots in various parts of my life. Flush with friendships, but struggling at work or dry spiritually but in good health. The life I wanted is not this. How could it be? I long for balance, for perfection and something is always out of sync.

If I could make it all work, I would not need a Savior. My goals are sweet, but small. They speak to the here and now which will never, ever be enough. I can have the best marriage, kids, job, vacations and it would not come close to being enough. One of the greatest blessings in my life are friends, as dear as sisters, and family I enjoy like friends, but it is only a taste of what I long for. Achieving dreams is amazing. I met a goal of getting over 100 pieces published and it was rather exciting and a feather in my cap; but it does not give my soul purpose, it is merely a feather, ornamental. I very much wanted our unique little house with the wall of windows and mid-century modern fixtures, but I have to be very careful not to complain about its lack of a second bathroom and doors that don’t close tight. Opening our own business was exciting, but at the end of the day, it’s a job, and a hard job at that. All the dreams that do come true are still not enough.

God knew it would never be enough. Our bodies were not designed to die, but to live. Our hearts were not created for envy and longing, but for a perfect, complete love. Our minds are meant for good, for edifying thoughts, not negative and evil imaginings. We use our liberty to create bad as well as good. We are victims of others’ free will and they are our tragedies, as well. So thus the world goes: broken, lost, and hurting even in the best of circumstances. The Bible teaches us to control our thought life, to think on things that are good and lovely; not because we will necessarily manifest a better life that way, but because we will need this discipline to navigate life. (Read about this in Philippians 4:6-8) It is a bumpy road. Sometimes the plane leaves on time and we get upgraded to first class and life looks good; but other times we have to sleep in the airport, just to find out we are seated next to a fussy toddler (who is oftentimes our own!).

This post is not about how we miss one flight to make another, different but better excursion. Our lives are a lot of canceled trips, lost tickets, sick on Christmas Day, missed opportunities and so forth. And in many ways we just miss out. But we are mostly nearsighted. We look at the life unlived and we mourn, while God sees eternity, knowing the end from the beginning. He knows our hurts and our disappointments, He is farsighted! Where we see loss, hurts and failures; He sees the refining of our souls. He knows we are pilgrims, just passing through. As it turns out we didn’t miss the flight at all, we are still waiting to board. It’s a bit of a delay, so we set about doing things, having families, working that job, putting our hearts into a ministry . . . all while we wait to live our (yet) unlived life.

Do you find yourself longing for an unlived life this side of eternity?

Have you considered that even if you had that dream life it would still never be enough? Can you think of some examples of people who have it “all” and still struggle?

What can you do to keep your focus on the things that are “good and lovely"?

The Christmas Dress

This post is different than my regular writing. I’m actually sharing a short story (under a different title) that I wrote for a lovely girl’s magazine called Brio. I wrote this piece last year for the December issue and now that I own the rights to the story again, I’m free to share it here. Its just a simple little story that was inspired by my beautiful cousin, Kelsey (but she has great taste in bridesmaids’ dresses).

The Christmas Dress

by Emily Downs

Leave it to her brother to ruin Christmas. Sabina stared in the full-length mirror at her red and green plaid dress with a giant velvet black bow at the back, added for good measure. She looked and felt like she was twelve instead of almost fifteen, her next birthday.

Her mom rushed into the room, “Oh Sabina! You look beautiful.”

“Of course, you would say that! I look like I am starring in a Christmas play of Little Women.”          

Mom walked up behind her, “My own little Jo March.”

Sabina spun around. “Mom, I can’t be seen in this. Why do I even have to be in the wedding?”

“It’s an honor to be asked and Delia wanted you and your sister to be a part. I think it was very sweet of her.”

So sweet, Sabina fumed in her head, to dress her like a colonial girl. Not to mention she was now wearing a matching dress with Samantha, her 10-year-old sister, who could not be more annoyingly thrilled about the forced twin outfits.

Sam ran into the room all bouncy ribbons and bows. “Look at us, we look the same.”                                                                                                                               

“My dream come true,” Sabina said dryly.

Sarcasm was lost on Sam and she beamed.   

Mom gave her a look. “Sabina, I want you to remember that this day is not about you. You are a bridesmaid for your brother and Delia, this day is for them.”

“I’m doing it aren’t I? I’m in this dress.” She picked up the plaid dress with disgust, holding it out.

“Your heart isn’t right,” said Mom flatly.

“I can’t make myself like this dress.”

“I’m not asking you to like the dress, but the attitude with which you do things counts just as much as actually doing them.”

Sabina sighed loudly and looked away.

“You know, daughter,” Mom lowered her voice, “The Lord tells us in his Word that He doesn’t look at the outward appearance, but at our hearts. Anybody can go through the motions, but doing it with a loving attitude, that is what pleases God.”

Sabina shrugged, “As long as I’m doing it, what’s it matter?”

 Mom touched her shoulder, “You have the chance to bless other people with your attitude, don’t miss out on that today.”   

Sam spilled her juice and mom leaped to action to save the dress from a juice stain, which Sabina secretly thought, couldn’t make the dress any worse. She was glad Mom’s attention was off her for a while; she didn’t need a lecture in a good attitude. The pictures would end up all over social media and her whole school would be able to see her humiliation. Nobody seemed to care about that.

She stomped off to the bathroom. Pushing open the door she heard crying. Delia was sitting at one of the vanities crying. Sabina wanted to quietly back out of the room, but Delia spotted her in the mirror.

“Oh, Sabina,” she sniffed, dabbing her eye with a tissue. “Sorry you caught me crying.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sabina, “I can go.” She felt instantly uncomfortable. What if she didn’t want to marry Simon anymore or something awful? She should get her mom.

“Come in.” Delia turned from the mirror and faced her.

“I knew I would be emotional today, but it really just hit me.”

Sabina sat in one of the peach chairs in the lounge area and her plaid dress puffed up around her. She tried to pat it down without making a face.

Delia sighed, “I’m so glad you are in the wedding, it means a lot to me. And you look so pretty in that dress.”

“Sure,” said Sabina with a frozen doll-like smile.

“I don’t know if Simon told you, but my mom loved Christmas. It was her favorite day of the year.”

Sabina’s fake smile slipped a little. “I didn’t know that.” She knew Delia’s mom had passed away when she was in high school, but they had never talked about it.

“I’m not sure how to get through this day without her.” She started crying again.

“I’m sorry,” squeaked Sabina, and she meant it. She had never stopped to think about how hard this day would be for Delia without her mom.

“My mom got married on Christmas Eve, too, and those dresses,” she waved at the plaid fabric engulfing the peach chair, “are the same dresses my mom used when she got married. I showed pictures to the dressmaker and she copied them.”

Sabina stared back at her and felt something start to melt in her heart.

“Well, I better stop crying or I’ll never get my makeup done.” She swiveled back in the chair and started applying blush with a shaky hand.

Sabina watched her for a minute and felt like time had slowed. She looked down at the dress she had hated so much and saw something different. She felt her heart change. The dress was not about her or how she looked or what her friends thought. The dress was about Delia’s mom. About how she was without her mom on her wedding day, something Sabina couldn’t imagine.  

“Delia,” she said in quiet voice. “I think this dress is really beautiful.” She wasn’t lying; it really was a beautiful way to honor her future sister-in-law’s mother. She suddenly didn’t care about any of that other stuff. Instantly, she knew that this was what mom meant by blessing others with her attitude. 

Delia turned back to her, “Do you really think so? I know they’re old-fashioned, but I think they are really pretty, too.”

“Yes,” said Sabina and tears spilled out. “I’m so sorry you have to do this without your mom.”

“Oh, look now I have you crying; here have a tissue.” She laughed, “We have to pull it together.”

Sabina laughed too and wiped her eyes. “Thanks for letting me be a part of your wedding and for letting me wear this dress.”

Delia got up to hug her. “I’m so excited to have you as a sister. Here, help me with this makeup.”

At the reception, Mom brought Sabina a piece of cake. “You did a great job today. Delia told me what you said to her in the bathroom before the wedding. That you told her the dress was beautiful.” Mom raised an eyebrow.

Sabina took a bite of cake and nodded. “It really is. I mean that it was her mom’s dress. And,” she said reluctantly, “it might have felt good to do it with the right attitude.”

Mom laughed. “You will never regret letting the Lord use you to bless others. And,” she said with a tip of her head, “it just might come back to bless you.”

Sabina rolled her eyes, but then laughed. “I guess I did have fun today.”

“It’s amazing how our heart can change what our eyes see.” Mom hugged her, “Your heart does look beautiful in that dress.”

*********

“For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7b

selfie with my story (I love the illustration)

Although this story was written for a young audience it makes me think about the state of my own heart. I can do the right things with the wrong outlook and it falls flat. A Christmas pie dropped on the floor is still a pie, but nobody wants it. As a parent, I’m always talking about doing things with a good attitude because it really does matter. I want the pie served on a plate (preferably with whipped cream); I’m not all that interested in eating it off the floor. Although an argument could be made that floor pie is better than no pie, but it is clearly not the same experience as plated dessert. Eating it off the floor is really not the mood we were all hoping for here. Like Sabina in the story, she was willing to be in the wedding and wear the dress, but her bad attitude was ruining the actions.

How can we change our hearts when it come to the holidays this year? Maybe something as simple as having patience with the long lines at the bakery, asking the harried shop owner how they are doing or waving at an overworked postal carrier. Taking time to really listen (with patience) to that relative that likes to complain and instead of getting annoyed, maybe trying to redirect their thinking towards all their blessings. One less present to buy and to wrap for the kids traded for an extra Christmas story at bedtime. A moment of acknowledgment for the person who lost someone special and is experiencing the holidays without them for the first time.

We go to the work soiree, the family gathering, the school mixer and we are so often overextended that our hearts are not in it. It feels like one more thing to do, one more present to buy, one more veggie tray to pick up. But what if we change our attitudes and look for someone to bless. A sweet outlook can be infectious and perhaps help someone who is really struggling. A merry heart can make a dreaded task sweeter and allows us to bless others in the midst of the swirl of holiday pressures.

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine . . .

Proverbs 17:22a

Drafts on Floating through the Holidays

Winter came early here in Michigan (and perhaps the whole country). Quite suddenly, we had no idea where our ice scrapers were and snow pants were seemingly sold out overnight. And all this, before I even had a chance to assess if we had any matching gloves (by the way . . . the answer is no; I somehow have only seven right hands - if anyone can explain this to me, please do so). And just like that, the holidays are upon us. While I love the first wave of the season, from pumpkin everything and gingerbread lattes to twinkly lights and Christmas music; it’s all the ambiance with none of the stress. I can enjoy the decorations in my favorite coffee shops and fill my car with Carol of the Bells, until the second wave steamrolls in: then these twinkly lights start on full stroke mode, the music becomes too loud and too frantic and there’s so much stuff to buy and wrap and all the traveling . . . oh, my!!

This year I have decided to try and float through the holidays.

Sounds great, right? 

But how does one float?      

A basic staple of any swim class is learning to float. It doesn’t seem like something we would have to be taught. After all the human body is almost naturally buoyant. If we just relax and fill our lungs with air, we sit on the surface of the water with hardly any effort. Yet, as I sat on the sidelines of a class of beginners’ swim lessons, floating was anything but natural. It was downright terrifying.

My son did not take to swimming easily. He, like many kids, was afraid to go underwater. It took some tough love from a wonderful swim teacher to convince him to put his head underneath the surface. Ms. Liz was loving and patient, but no nonsense. She would listen to his fears and say she understood, but he would, in fact, be going underwater. I completely trusted her and I knew it was very important for him to learn to swim. I, too, understood his fears, but I knew this was an important lesson—vital to a kid that lives in a beach town. As I would wade through his fears and tears to get him where he needed to be to learn to swim, I wondered how God looks at me as I fight an important lesson He is trying to teach me. He understands I’m afraid of the unknown and what could go wrong, but He also knows I must learn to swim in this world.

Once my child went underwater a few times, lo and behold, he not only liked it, he loved it! In fact, a new problem arose as the class stood in line on the submerged ledge; instead of being afraid of putting his head underwater, he was always underwater! (Duly missing the instructions in his lesson.) While I gave him my “get it together eyes” from the sidelines, as the teacher had to ask, yet again, for him to keep his head above water; it secretly made me smile to see him enjoy the water so much. Not only do I want him to be safe, I want him to enjoy the freedom and delight of swimming. Just as we learn all the safety lessons from studying our Bibles, I imagine God smiles, seeing his children enjoy life, but like any loving parent, He wants us to do it safely. He designed us for relationships and he gifted us with talents and skills, he gave us passions and callings, but he knows we could easily drown in them. Unless we first learn to swim.

In the swim class, Ms. Liz would have the kids lay on their backs and practice floating on the surface of the water. She taught them that if they ever get in trouble to just flip over on their backs and float. (A skill we all need during this holiday season.) Well, my child could not do this, he would immediately panic, struggle and sink. The instructor would  say, “Do you trust me not to let you go under?” He would nod yes, but his heart wasn’t in it. Has the Lord asked you to trust Him as he untangles your hurts, moves you forward in something new or closes a chapter in your life? And while you are nodding yes, is your heart panicking? What is He asking of you in this season of celebrations and time with family? Are we drowning under doing it all? Doing it perfectly? Sinking while your arms are full of pumpkin seasoning and rustic sleigh bell gift adornments.  

Ms. Liz helped my son by letting him rest his head on her shoulder as he tried to float. That way he could feel something firm underneath his head and she would whisper to him, “I got you.” I see myself in this, God lets me rest my head on his shoulder (my crazy spinning brain that just needs to rest) while I’m learning to float. When I’m tired and worn out by this world, the demands of life, the fear of moving forward in faith — I can’t even float, I just start to sink. We start to think our gifts aren’t thoughtful enough, our party clothes aren’t sparkly enough and that the cookies came out a bit too chewy (well I don’t think that because everyone knows I will break my own oven to get out of baking). I can rest all my inadequacies on the shoulders of the Lord. I can lay my worries and fears on Him.

Last year my sister came home for Christmas and she texted us and said, I will not be bringing any gifts, the gift is my presence! And you know what? I loved it! I do enjoy giving and getting gifts, but the ultimate gift I can give to you and you can give to me is to be in each other’s lives. So that necklace or scarf I got you is just bonus. I can float though the pressure of . . . is it the right color or the right thing? Should I have done more? This is not the real gift. What you are really unwrapping is a ”thank you” for being there when I call too late or need too much. This one day and this one gift will never be worthy of all the times you made me laugh or got me out of a jam. So, I’m just going to float this pair of gloves over your way and if it’s still in the bag I bought it in, well . . . that’s okay, too.          

The interesting thing about floating is that there is a lot of trust involved. Our bodies will lay on the surface of the water, but only if we relax and let go of all the panic and fear weighing us down. I wrote in my last post (Drafts on Ebb Tide) about how the enemy tries to drown us with lies about how unforgivable we are, how we will never overcome our pain or how we can’t handle our present situation. Sure we can struggle through the water with these burdens, but eventually when we run out of our human energy, we will need rest. The enemy knows we can never float with these things weighing on us. His lies are meant to make us sink. And we can go under in a million ways: drinking too much, escaping into entertainment too often, finding our worth in unstable things like status and money and looks. I personally can feel depression and despair start to pull me away from the people in my life that would uplift me; everything looks dark and I just want to stay under a blanket to cope. And the whole point of the holidays is lost in the enemies lies. And the point? A thankful heart around the thanksgiving table and star-lit eyes over the babe found in the manger. Peace in our souls and good will towards men is the point.

Floating is rest. The rest we need. God designed our bodies to need breaks. When we sleep we heal and recharge. He built night into day, sabbath into the week and our bodies float so we don’t have to always be swimming. When my day swarms me; emails, laundry, hurting friends to pray for, research for my writing and 3rd grade math (which in my case means watching instructional youtube videos and still not understanding) and then I have to come up with something for dinner on top of all that?!

Swim lessons; life lessons

I need time in my day to just float and on those days that I can’t even float because I feel too crazy, the Lord lets me lay my head on His shoulder and whisper, “I’ve got you.” I open my Bible and the living Word soothes me and I ask the Holy Spirit to help me and He buoys my soul (even though nothing in my physical world has actually changed). So I heat up soup and toast bread and laugh at 3rd grade math because seriously, what else is there to do? And I float.

We float because our lungs are full of air. My air is God. He fills me. He holds me until I can swim again. When things are really bad, when I’m afraid and lost He lets me lay my head on something firm. His Word is firm. His character is solid. His truth is enough to carry all my weights until I let Him cut them loose. Then when exhaustion hits, I know what to do. I flip over on my back and float. A prayer in the car. A Bible verse check on my phone. Truth is in my head and faith in my heart, where it can’t be lost or misplaced. It’s really not that hard as it turns out, but it feels scary. Like my son in swim class, it takes a leap of faith, that feeling as you start to sink, but then somehow you don’t. The Holy Spirit brings you back up to the surface where you can lay there and just breathe.

So this year I’m going to try and float through the holidays. The gifts will never be enough, I will be overly tired from traveling and a little jittery from all the coffee. I most likely will not be at my best. So if you want to have a little cry in the spare bedroom or borrow my undereye concealer come find me. I’m going to try and not panic and just rest in God.

My advice for this busy, crazy festive season is to start practicing floating.             

In what areas of your life are you drowning and instead of flipping over on your back to float—you are panicking? Is it finances? Health? Relationships? 

How do you drown in the holidays? What would it look like if you tried floating through? Simple unwrapped gifts, less commitments, buy the cookies? (I mean, I have to because my oven is broke)  

Drafts on Margins

Let’s see, do I have everything? Computer and cord, blanket scarf (in the unfortunate event air conditioning has turned a lovely fall day into the polar vortex), library book to return, shopping bags and list, Bible study (in case I get a few minutes in car line) and the snack bag (never forget the snack bag!). This is how I leave my house most days. I run from one thing to the next, always having to think three steps ahead. Do I have the notes for that meeting, the right shoes to get a work out in and enough food to get me through the next six hours? It’s a lot and as you can imagine, I often fall behind and have to call my next meeting and say I’m running late. I jam too much into a day and if one thing gets off track, the whole day is off-the-rails and I’m running, running, running!

Have you ever noticed how pages come with margins? That lovely clean space around the perimeter of the words so there aren’t letters or punctuation marks running right off the page and falling into the abyss. Margins offer a space to work that leaves a little room. Margins keep all the thoughts confined to the middle of the page. But perhaps the best part is that they leave room for mistakes. I make a lot of mistakes; how about you? I misjudge how long a conversation will take, what the expectations are, or I show up in the wrong shoes with the wrong attitude. Margins allow time to find parking and to take the long way round if the bridge is out. So, if I get a little lost or need to take a phone call, margins give built-in sidelines to my day—to my life, which gives me space for such things.

Am I Available?

Margins give us room to breathe. A few minutes to collect ourselves and the space to help others. More importantly, margins give room for God to use us. When I pack my day so tight, I’m not available for any assignments He may have for me. Maybe a conversations that starts out about the weather (a fav topic here in Michigan) takes a deeper turn and demands more time or maybe one of your kid’s friends asks for a ride home, but really it’s a divine appointment for prayer. If I don’t have any margins in my day for such things, I will miss out on what really matters. Is my goal to check off my to-do list? Or to bless people? Do I get up in the morning with the goal of turning out three loads of laundry, replying to work emails, and helping with the school play? (Surely these things need to be done.) Or is my goal to be available to those who may need me?

The other day at the grocery store, the checkout girl was new and young and she was struggling. I had built in extra time to go the store so I was able to be patient, but the woman behind me was loudly complaining about how slow the line was moving (I saw myself in this woman), but I just smiled kindly as the girl apologized for needing to repack my bags a couple times; she was going to need some encouragement to get her through the next client. I have to build margins into my day and hope others build margins into their days when I might . . . say, lock my keys in my car (and then my son’s piano teacher has to load up her 4 kids and mine and come get me at the post office and then drive me home to get the spare key and drive me back again!). So . . . I might need some big margins.

Creating White Space

Last week I talked about making time for kindness in our days: see Drafts on Kindness in Tiny Beads. I have been pondering just how does one build free moments into our hectic lives? There is no easy answer and it looks different for everyone depending on where we are in life. Perhaps getting up a little earlier than usual? One of my friend’s gets up at 5:00 a.m. to get her time with the Lord in before her children wake, and I believe she also gets in a whole pot of coffee (I mean—it is 5:00 a.m.!) To me that is a ridiculous time; clearly meant for sleep! But I guess we are all different. Of course, we can not stack our days so tight, perhaps spacing out meetings in case they run late (don’t they always?). If you have small children (or just any children or even a dog) getting ready to leave 20 minutes sooner so you have time for the lost shoe hunt, muddy paws, spilled juice on the one day you actually thought—maybe, just maybe, you could finally wear white again.

I just got a text about a playdate after school today; and while I did say yes, I put a hard border on the time. If I make it home by 5:00 p.m. instead of 5:30 p.m., that extra half hour margin will allow me to be a more patient mother at bedtime, which is most often when we have our best talks about God and life. (I’ll let you know how it goes . . .) Update** So, I did make it home around 5:00 p.m. and still felt crazy trying to get it all done; but when my son asked me later to read to him about the weird creatures in the Bible in Ezekiel, instead of being ridiculously past bedtime it was just sorta past bedtime—so I went for it. I was glad there was that little clean margin on my page for that conversation.

These are simple ideas, and I know there are just days that have no margins (and sometimes the Lord calls for our time when we feel we have no time to give). Yesterday, a friend texted me after her child threw a fit about having to wear pants to school and then they got in the car late to only realize she was completely out of gas. This is the type of day where the words are written right on to the edge of the page with no room to breathe. Maybe there is something you need to say no to in order to have more time in your life for God to work. My husband and I have had seasons of saying no to good and fun activities, like sports and sitting on the board of great nonprofits, because it just made our days spill off the pages. Things I would love to volunteer for or writing projects that I would be thrilled to take on, but knew it would just fill my days to capacity and I need (I think we all need) margins for the Holy Spirit to move.

I find when I don’t build space in my day, I get crazy, I have no patience, no time and I more than not end up with a headache that has me stuck at home anyway. I want to take it all in. I want to fill every second of my day with coffee dates, work projects, community events. I think of those old letters people used to write when paper and postage were expensive and they would literally fill ever inch with teeny-tiny writing, even on the envelope.

Does your life look like a Jane Austen letter?

But my eyes need a place to rest—white space, if you will. Gaps from the words of life to just not have to focus and think and try. Margins allow us to write postcripts to our day, underline and draw arrows out to the edges; making note of this or that, praying for this person or that person as the Lord lays it on our hearts. I know for me, I may need time to take an unexpected phone call. I may need time to comfort and encourage hurting people; taking note of what they are really saying and what they really need. I may need time to stay late and talk. Sometimes I need your margins and sometimes you need mine. I’m trying to keep clean edges on the pages of my day.

What does the Lord want to write in your margins?

Is there space for Him? Or have you filled your days tight like a Jane Austen letter?

~~~~~~~~~~

If you have a margin in your day please leave a like and comment below … scroll down to subscribe!

Please share with anyone whom you think would be blessed by this website (thank you)