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

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It’s the Little Things

“It’s the little things in life.”

I love little things. Actual little things. I have written about this before, it was one of my first articles back when I was finding my way with this website. I have changed direction, quit, come back and (once again) asked the Lord what He wants me to do with my love of writing. I felt a pull to write more and with that comes a lot of challenges. I don’t love challenges. I want things to come naturally and work out and then I can say this is so obviously what I’m supposed to be doing because it comes so easy and has such success.

In short, I’m looking for the big things in life. Which is ironic considering my love of little things. I want big successes. Big rewards. Big recognitions. Don’t we all long for this? Look at how well my job is going, how great my kids are turning out, how deep my relationships are, how I’m acknowledged in all my circles, even in the world (perhaps?).

I have my writing awards framed, I want people to see them, to know my worth, my value as a writer.

What accolades do you have under glass or displayed on your fridge? That reward in your field? Or maybe your child’s impressive report card or sports recognition? Maybe you had your picture in the paper or even on the cover of a magazine?

Do we put our families on display? Our businesses? Our best artwork or crafts? Of course we are excited and want everyone to see how great it’s going. To share with the world or at least our “group” the good things happening in these areas.

And we need to celebrate these things! It’s important, it’s fun, it’s lovely to see the wedding pictures, the beautiful children in coordinating outfits (with no fighting) and the first day of the dream job. These are the snapshots of life we put on our desks at work, post on social media and hang in our hallways.

How wild would it be if you sat across from a desk only to spy a picture of the time your accountant fell off his bike instead of the time he won the race? Or what if you went to a playdate and the snapshots were of gum in the hair and tears at bedtime and the third night in a row your kids ate cereal for dinner? What if artists displayed only their first attempts at a forthcoming masterpiece? What if we showcased the review with “constructive” criticism? What if I published my first drafts?

Most people aren’t interested in putting the less than perfect images on display. I know I’m not. I like to put those first drafts in a drawer. I delete the unflattering pictures. I don’t want to talk about the failures, the time wasted, the wrong things said in a meeting or in a hard parenting moment.

Yet, these are the little things that build up to the bigger things.

How many mountaintop moments do we experience? In actuality, life is a lot of little things strung together, like pearls on a necklace. Alone they aren’t that impressive, but all together they can be layered around and around until they are weighty. A statement piece. Set against the background of an ordinary life, these small wins can add up.

What if the real gems are more about our character and our growth than about the actual achievements?

I tend to want worldly victories. I find myself chasing after what my culture says is important. Ironically, that is subject to time and place. These are fleeting, changing goals. Like trying to capture the wind vs building a house on a firm foundation. The older I get the more I want something solid, something unmovable on which to build my value and worth. When I was getting published regularly and winning awards, I felt great about my career as a writer. When I started working on this website, I struggled (and still do), because I no long receive the reward of a paycheck or media recognition. This website is a smaller thing.

What are things in your life that feel small?

Most people tell me their life doesn’t look the way they imagined when they were younger. We dream of the heights with no regard for the valleys between . . . and if you are anything like me, you are actually surprised by the low (difficult) times.

Yet, it is in these lowlands that the little things matter the most.

Steamy coffee sipped on a quiet morning. A summer evening dancing with fireflies. Words of encouragement from a friend. When your children make you laugh. Watching a rainstorm. Time to think. Rest.

These things keep us going. They add up to something bigger. To something better. A life that can find joy even on the darker days. Even when the laundry is piling up and tensions are high at work and your trip just got cancelled. Moments that make us smile or pause from our trials or even just the monotony of everyday life, are bright spots moving us forward (even if its just to the weekend).

More importantly, the same is true in our spiritual life. We have some big moments, like our salvation or our baptism, that are exciting and noteworthy days, but much of our faith is walking out our beliefs in the everyday moments. How do we behave when it gets hard or stressful or even boring? That’s when I find, that “the something solid, something unmovable on which to build my worth and value”, can only come from my life being hid in Christ, my Lord and Saviour. “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Phil 1:6

The little things of our faith add up quickly: daily Bible study, praying (with thanksgiving), resting in the goodness of God, sharing our hope. These practices of our faith sustain us on the trail. We get thirsty and hungry and tired in this race called life. Sometimes there are really big hills that hit when we are the most tired or deep valleys that seem unbelievably lonely. But these not so little, little practices encourage our feet to keep moving.

A Bible verse that speaks right to our heart.

A time in prayer that calms our anxious souls.

Sweet words from a friend.

“Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart, so doth the sweetness of a man’s friend by hearty (heartfelt) counsel”. Pr 27:9kjv

Every hike starts with one step and then another and then another, all strung together. Small movements adding up to a journey. We wouldn’t leave for a trek without proper provisions. We need energy, hydration and protection from the elements. The Lord has provided all things for his children. We are nourished by his word, watered by prayers and protected in community. Don’t go it alone and don’t go empty-handed.

How many times have you left home and forgotten something? What would you go back for? Your lunch packed in a cooler, your water bottle, your phone? These are things we need and they are worth turning around for. Time spent growing our faith is also worth the sacrifice. Sometimes we need to turn our day around and gather our supplies; sit quietly with the Lord and be filled so we can deal with life, from the mundane to the unexpected.

Yesterday, I was so busy running from thing to thing that I forgot to pack any food. I was feeling over-caffeinated and a little woozy, I needed to eat, but didn’t have time to stop. Next on the list was picking up my son up from a friend and speeding off to camp. I asked his grandmother, if I could heat up my coffee (because more coffee . . .right?) and she offered me lunch! Sometime we just aren’t equipped for where the trail takes us. This is why the Bible says to be in fellowship with other believers. Sometimes we need lunch. She had extra food and I needed a sandwich (a small blessing) that really made a difference in my day.

At times we are dry and weary and need others to motivate us to keep on the journey. We give into the lies and the fears that can plague every Christian. So the Lord sends his saints to offer a weary traveler encouragement. He preserved his Word (the Bible), to teach us the armor of God (Eph 6), to show us the Hope set before us (Heb 6) and to “restoreth our souls” with the poetry of Psalms . His presence quiets us when we pour out our hearts.

I have been reading a book on Puritan prayers (I know, yawn) but they are anything but boring. These prayers are deep and profound, they are so beautifully penned and speak life into my soul when it is weary and tired. These prayers have reshaped the way I communicate with the Lord. A “little thing” that has had a profound impact on my spiritual life.

At every level of our development, the Lord can use us in small and big ways. Are we willing to start in the small things?

Will we commit to being in The Word daily?

Will we carve out time for prayer?

We will speak up when someone needs to hear the truth and encourgment the Bible offers?

Will we act unselfishly when our flesh tells us otherwise?

Small things sparkle in an ordinary life.

Showing God that we are willing to be used, willing to do the difficult things, willing to grow can seem like little things but are often actually the big things.

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.” Math 25:21 esv

Read more:

Faithful in Little

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Running From Thunder

My dog, Scout, is terrified of thunder. Anytime there is a rumble in the sky he runs for cover. The problem, as you can imagine, is that you can’t actually hide from thunder. This, however, does not stop him from trying! He crawls behind a half open door, he goes into the bathroom and wedges himself between the toilet and tub, but alas, the thunder can still find him. He runs around, his little nails clicking annoyingly on the floor, looking for safety.

We always try to soothe our nervous little dog. We tell him it’s alright; we pet him and whisper that he is a “good boy” (my other posts on Scout will show this is not actually true). But it matters not, because none of this helps. He is frantic. His beady eyes are even more crazed than normal. He will not be calmed, he must run around looking for shelter from the noise that is attacking our home. Perhaps it is better outside, he scratches at the door. Despite my best efforts to tell him it’s actually worse out there, he must see for himself. Sure enough he is instantly jumping at the door with muddy paws to get back inside.

Do you have invisible fears? Is there something that has you franticly running round? Do you look for safety, not behind a bedroom door, but in a bank account or job security. While you would never wedge yourself behind the toilet (I hope!), do you make sure you have enough money, supplies, friends or connections to keep you “safe”?

We want freedom from our entanglements or we long for more security. Inside or outside, we still have the same fears, the same longings, the same insecurities.

I have written several articles on my dog, Scout. He has much to teach us on doing it wrong. The truth is I often see myself in his mishaps. He pushes his doggie nose against the window longing for what’s outside and then once he has broke free of the constraints of the home he wants back in. Isn’t this us? Give me freedom, no wait; I want security! We long for what we don’t have and then pine for what we’ve left behind. Scout is very good at pining. He will lay for hours at any closed door only to immediately want out of said room once he achieves entrance.

We shake our heads at his antics, but really, how often do we act like a crazy dog running from thunder? I want to tell Scout, you can’t hide from a loud noise, but he will not be convinced.

What do we run from? What are the loud noises that have you running for cover?

For me it’s a lot of the what ifs. What if this person is just using me, what if I get lost, what if I get sick, what if I don’t have enough of . . .

I spend a significant amount of energy imagining hypothetical situations. Imagining the worst. Getting worked up and fretting over what could happen, what might happen, what I fear the most. The thunder of my fears shakes the frame of my house and I can’t find a safe place to land.

Maybe like me, you have had the worst happen so it doesn’t necessarily feel like fiction, but just being practical. Being prepared because sometimes the worst does happen. That loud cracking storm isn’t just a bunch of noise, but produces lightning and it actually strikes the ground setting your whole life aflame. Storms can do real damage, uprooting our lives and blowing them all over the place. We are left cleaning up the mess for day, weeks and even a lifetime.

As a side note, since I started this article (some weeks ago) there have been many real disasters in the lives of our close family and friends. I even thought about abandoning this piece; maybe Scout is right after all? More than ever lately, I’ve wanted to run and hide from the thunder, as life has proven that it is sometimes followed by a very real storm. So I proceed hesitantly on this topic, as the Holy Spirit keeps nudging me through Bible study and prayer, that we cannot live our lives like a scared Jack-Rat Terrier mix (I’m convinced this particular breed was never meant to exist). I blame the Fall. So, if we are subject to the evils of this world what are we to do? Hide? Shake in fear? Refuse to be comforted?

The Bible does not teach me to do any of the above, so I have to ask myself should I carry on with this article by faith and not by sight?

How about you? Are you walking by sight? (It can look pretty bad) Or by faith?

Most storms are just seasonal with some rain and thunder, maybe some sideway fireworks, but not a tempest to blow through our lives. How do we quell our fears and what ifs? How do we lay down in the storm and sleep at night, instead of pacing the house with our tongues hanging out (or is that just Scout)?

The ways I don’t want to be like Scout are many! I don’t want to let every loud boom shake my faith and steal my peace. I don’t want to run around when I can lay down in green pastures (Ps 23).

So what still rings true—even after a storm has struck or is threatening us in the distance? Well, the promises of the Bible echo down through the ages.

We are not, however, promised happiness and easy times. I checked; it’s not there. But we are promised peace in the storm.

Wait! What? This isn’t exactly what I’m looking for.

Jesus tells us in the Gospel of John that while we will face hard times, we can face them with peace because He is in control. I assume He tells us this because it won’t feel this way. We will be tempted to think the train has fallen off the rails and nobody is in charge. Yet, He knew we would need this reassurance. Like a terrified dog we tend to seek shelter in all the wrong places. Hiding behind a door, say, to save us from thunder. But because the Bible tells us that God knows the end from the beginning, we can actually sleep at night. “Declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times the things that are not yet done, saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure.” (Is 46:10) “And the LORD, he it is that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee; fear not, neither be dismayed . . .” (Deut 31:8)

And here is one of my favorite verses; one I memorized as a teenager, wrote on a card and hung over my bed. It’s probably the verse I can most readily bring to mind—it’s truly hidden in my heart.

“These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

Now, what I wish it said, is something like, “Dear Christian, it’s only smooth sailing from here. You will only be happy all the time and get everything your heart desires.” But, alas the promise is different and if we really examine what Jesus is saying we can see that it’s actually a far deeper promise; it cuts through the noise and distractions of life to the heart of the matter, which is eternal peace and security. Fair weather comes and goes, as do storms, but if we can claim His promise of peace, our boat won’t be rocked quite so hard because our eyes will be fixed on the firm rock of Christ and not the choppy waters of this life.

The promise of peace is ours for the taking, but how do we get to it when we are cowering in fear? The disciples ran to Jesus. In Matthew 8, we learn about a time when they were crossing the sea and a storm arose and the wind and waves began to beat on the ship. Jesus was sleeping in the back of the boat and they woke Him, crying, “Master, carest thou not that we perish?” How often do we run to the Lord saying, “God don’t you see what’s happening in my life?” Don’t you care?” Jesus arose and rebuked the wind and told the sea to be at peace and suddenly there was a great calm. Then he says to his close companions and disciples, “Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?”

Right.

Why am I so fearful?

I do have faith, but it is often so weak. “Lord, I believe but, help my unbelief,” was the cry of the father in Mark 9:24. How often is this the sorrow of our hearts? Help us Lord to believe the promises you have given us, even when we can’t see them. We can run to the Lord, appeal to Him as our father. He will answer; sometimes in our spirits (our hearts), sometimes through His Word or a teaching, or perhaps a friend to remind and comfort us in the hope that is ours already.

“And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee.” (Ps 39:7)

We can seek Him out in the Bible where we are reminded of these promises of peace and even joy in the storms. We are beckoned to pour out our hearts in prayer, knowing He listens and cares. The true blessing is not, after all, in the ease of life or the way things work out, but in the relationship itself: we are safely tucked away inside the arms of our Saviour. Our spirit can rest and even sleep during a storm, because unlike Scout, we know that God is in control.

Further Reading:

Fuzzy Hope

Why Struggles are Important

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Drafts on Balsamic Reduction: How to thicken Your Faith

If you know me at all, you know that I’m no cook. I do not come by this naturally. I actually come from a line of women who are remembered for their dishes. My great-grandma’s homemade bread is only spoken of with awe to this day. Shortbread cookies, pies and soups still show up on my family’s tables with a dignified nod to their maker and perfecter, with a whisper, “this is Grandma’s recipe.” My own mother is famous (among my friends, that is) for her scones which are regularly requested among them because they are amazing (as is she).

This brings us back to me, the “non-cook.” Can I keep people alive? Yes. Is anyone going to bake a cake and whisper my name someday. No! If anything, I will be known for my charcuterie boards. But I do love to eat and I do really love sauces. I’m far more interested in the sauce than anything else. I always, always ask for extra. So when my family introduced me to balsamic reduction glaze, I was smitten.

I love a flavored vinegar. When the main thing you make is a “mean” salad, a flavored balsamic vinegar is like the piéce de résistance. I’ve tried some with notes of fig, chocolate and cherry, but my absolute favorite is a reduction glaze. All the luscious flavors are boiled down to this thick gloss that is just bursting with flavor. I put it on everything: salad, pizza, bread.

Has your faith gotten watery?

Why is reduction sauce so good? Because it’s been reduced down to its pure goodness. This makes me think of my faith. Sometimes my faith gets watery. It slides around and I can’t quite gather it up in my mind. My feelings dilute it and stretch it out to something tasteless. I’m unsatisfied by this weak faith. Where are the notes of peace and joy? Nobody would ask for extra of this concoction. My weakened faith is full of lies and misconceptions—that I’ve added.

The world and our culture have watered down my doctrine into something that sounds nice on a menu, but there is no substance. When I really need something to grab onto, this watered down version runs through my fingers. It has lost its color and is clear and just shows whatever thing is popular or easy.

A pure faith—a reduction, if you will—is boiled down to its finest form; what is true about God, about His Word, about me (and you). It doesn’t change. It is rich in color and flavor. It satisfies all my longings. I want an extra helping of this sauce. I want to put it on everything. My pain, my hurt, my losses. It makes everything better.

I’m trying to figure out how to make a reduction sauce faith. One that is sticky and tacky and stays where I put it.

I love to introduce people to the wonder that is balsamic reduction, therefore, it is often my contribution to a dinner party. I recently toted it along to a friend’s house, where we preceded to put it on salad, swirl it in our butternut squash soup and over homemade sourdough bread. She told me later that she tried to recreate the meal, but didn’t realize my sauce was a glaze and not just regular vinegar. It shocked her when she dumped some balsamic over a slice of bread, thinking it would be a lovely dark drizzle, but instead was a watery mess.

How often is my faith a watery version of what God is actually saying in His Word? The deep jewel-toned truths are what I need when things get difficult. I need something that will stick when I’m hurting, doubting and struggling to find God in a challenging season. It’s easy to trust Him when things are going our way. When we feel the Lord’s blessings, we can point upward and say, look how good God is . . . He has given me what I prayed for; what I longed for has come to pass. And while all good things come from God (James 1:17), what do we do in the times of hardship? When we are facing sickness, yet again? When we have gone to all the doctors and can’t get answers? When the bills are sitting dusty and unpaid on our desk? When that relationship we have worked so hard on is still in pieces on the floor?

Is God still good?

Do we point upward and say, this is really hard right now, but I know God hears my prayers?

Do we have a sticky faith that knows, though the night is long and dark, God is at work, even when we can’t see His hands?

I’m not good in this area. I’m much quicker to sing His praises when I’m “feeling” loved, when I see things lining up the way I hoped they would. When prayers are answered in my favor. Yet, I long for a faith of more depth, more substance, more staying power. I wondered how I could boil down my faith to the pure ingredients that are full of flavor, making even the driest of seasons, rich in faithfulness.

These last few months have been a time of learning hard things in many ways. When I look at the fruit of the Spirit, I’m most interested in the love, joy and peace slices and less inclined towards the patience, self-control and long-suffering cuts. Have you ever dipped a large spoon into a fruit bowl, hoping for some strawberries and blueberries and come up with a mound of melon. Sure, melon is fine; I want to be patient with the chatty lady checking me out (when I’m in a hurry) or with my dog when he pukes on the carpet (again). But where are the raspberries of joy?

There is something fundamentally off about a fair-weather faith. It’s easy to work hard at a job you love or put time into a relationship you enjoy. Yet, we are so often called to places that we don’t enjoy or feel well-equipped to handle. This is a time of simmering down our beliefs to basics. Does God always love us and want what’s best (best for our character and walk), not necessarily what is easiest? Does God want us to stretch and grow in our reliance upon Him? A time of learning these, shall we say, “less” fun characteristics, will give us staying power when things get hard.

When we are walking through a time of difficulty, learning to lean not unto thy own understanding (Pro. 3:5), but allowing God to do a work in us, we have so much more depth to offer those who cross our paths. When a friend calls and says she doesn’t know how to carry on or how God can possibly be in her illness, her marriage, her finances or her parenting that has gone sideways. . . we have something to offer. We sat down with that spoonful of melon we were served and learned new levels of knowing God.

So, how do we achieve a reduction sauce faith? How do we depend on the Holy Spirit to produce more fruit in our life?

First, and most importantly, we must know what God teaches us in His word. The reading of the Bible chases out any watery beliefs we have picked up from social media or our pseudo-religious co-worker. We learn what God really teaches. Not that it will always be easy, not that we won’t suffer, but that our Saviour also suffered (Eph 5:2) and that we can go to Him with all our fears, worries and tears because He understands (Heb 4:15). We learn that God will never leave us and He is always working on our behalf for our good even when we can’t see or feel it (Rom 8:32).

For we have not a high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities;

but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin.

Hebrews 4:15 kjv

Secondly, spending time in prayer gently simmers biblical principals into our minds and hearts. I asked the Lord to help me understand the hard truths and to give me a peace in my spirit that transcends my circumstances. A joy that can’t be taken from me when the berries are out of season, when the garden is ugly and bare. We know spring will come again, there will be new life and new hope. Through the leading of the Holy Spirit, I am learning to store up fruit and preserve it in my heart—to get me through the winters of life.

And thirdly, a Bible study or prayer group where we can gather with God’s followers, carries us along as our faith is stirred and encouraged. We can season each others’ walks with lessons we have learned along the way. We can teach and learn, adding nuances to our faith that cannot be gathered in one life time. Like a dinner party where everyone brings something to share; a time in community and ministering to others which adds richness to our lives.

As we work on this boiled down faith, wherever we are in our walk (brand new or decades old), we have something to share with the body of Christ, the church and our communities.

I love to share the goodness of God, the long-suffering of Christ and the peace of the Holy Spirit. Suddenly, joy has more meaning and the blessings are sweeter, set against the lessons of the other fruits. They all work together to point us towards the glory of God. He is a God for all seasons—the winters and summers, the sour and sweet, in times of joy and in times of mourning. A full-bodied essence, a well-rounded reduction sauce that we carry with us to all situations.

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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.

****

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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 Ebb Tide

Change is a constant companion in our lives. Like the ebb tide of the waves, the new washes up and the old is swept away. It is relentless. When we are young, this feels slow, as if we will be children forever; remember when summer felt like it would go on forever? One sandy beach day disappeared into the next, marked by dripping popsicles in the hot sun and counting fireflies in the evenings. I never once thought about change on those long carefree days. But change was always there, with me, even when I was unaware. Now as a middling adult, I’m keenly aware of change and the passage of time. My childhood seems a lifetime ago. The changes I have gone through are staggering. The hardships and the growth that followed has formed me into an entirely different person.

As I write, I’m perched at the window bar of a coffee shop and my view consists of blowing leaves and pumpkins on hay bales: it is autumn. This is my favorite season. I identify with its many layers—a clear sun followed by unexpected clouds, cold rain and gusty winds. I have often wondered what our favorite seasons say about us. Fall is a time of change, cooling temps, tall boots and burnt orange sweaters, The days are short, but bright. It is the last brilliant moment before the world resets with a long sweep of cleansing cold, unforgiving air. It is change wrapped around me like a scarf, held in my hands like hot apple cider.

The older I get the more I realize that change is part of the game; it’s not going away. I’m constantly growing and learning. And in that growth, I must face the fact that there needs to be growth, because I’m still not there yet. I see this in my marriage. After 15 years together, we are still figuring it out. Our partnership, all and all, is fairly smooth, but then last weekend we had a fight about a juicer. Yup, a juicer! So guess there is still room for growth there, or at least a glass of carrot juice.

Parenting is arguably the biggest vehicle of growth around. Having a baby is like an instant death to your old self and born in its place is this soft squishy person who cares about bizarre things like the shape of pacifier nipples and who keeps a journal of wet diapers. Who is this person? And in a way you relive your childhood all over again with all the great things, like reading Make Way for Ducklings, but also all the hard things, like when your first fish dies (R.I.P. blue beta fish). And you change. . . you are a parent to a baby and then a toddler and then suddenly the baby is driving. And while you were fine to drive at 16, surely that cannot be true today!

Twisting in the Waves

Change also comes in the form of hardships. Tragedies like divorce, loss or severed relationships that can close off parts of us until they shrivel up and die. We can’t even access that part of our heart anymore. Maybe you have lost someone or perhaps your marriage feels like far more of a struggle than it’s worth, a needy child is chipping away at you and there is no time for anything you enjoy. The grind of life . . . has well. . . ground you up. Those long easy days of summer are a distant memory that play in your head like a movie you watched once. Ten-year-old you would never recognize your life now. Your dream journal seems completely unrealistic. Obviously, you are never going to work for SeaWorld at this point (although, the Blackfish documentary really finished off that dream).

Blackfish aside, I don’t know where you are at today. Perhaps life has come up roses with a few thorns or perhaps it’s thistles with a few flowering weeds. Life is always in motion, the waves are always reaching for us, trying to push us forward or pull us back. Sometimes there is little we can do about our circumstances. My childhood was punctuated with tragedy, there were long summer days and nights on the porch counting fireflies, but storms blew in unexpectedly. Loss and tragedy are big part of my identity. Of who I am. They shaped me young into twisty ways that are taking a lifetime to untangle. But I’m working on it.

The enemy has spent years whispering in my tender ear that this is who I am. That these knots cannot be untangled. The blood supply has been cut off and growth cannot take place. And you know what? In many ways it’s easier to let these areas lie dormant. I’m strangely comfortable in it. Like when your foot falls asleep and you are unaware until you try to move it and as blood flows back into those veins, it is painful. As I have reopened some of my past, it too, is painful; but I no longer want to be pushed into a shape that God did not intend for me.

So I look back at things that happened to me and I start to look at it all through the eyes of the Lord. Sure, He can use these things and He absolutely does, but also He does not want me to be bound up in my losses, my hurts, my disappointments.

When the waves reach for me, I start to sink in the quicksand of my emotions, being sucked under by the past. Bound—unable to swim; sinking into depression and despair. At times, the Lord sends others to swim along side of me to encourage me to keep swimming; but more so, Jesus Christ, my Savior, wants to see me unbound, free to swim over the surface of what tries to pull me down.

Learning to swim

He will Walk on Water

When our minds turn to depression/anger/bitterness/ apathy, we start to feel the weight of our past, our pain, the things that haven’t worked out. It’s too heavy, we are tempted to stop swimming and just sink. We look away from God and we start to go under. We are trying to swim with broken legs and twisted arms. If we are standing on the beach and we see our child or a friend struggling in the water, would we not rush out to help them? Of course! And God our Father does the same. If we cry out, He will walk on water to save us from sinking. But more so then save us from drowning this one time, He wants to teach us to keep our eyes on Him so we don’t sink; showing us how to navigate rough waters, to swim because He knows storms will arise often in our lives. While I want Him to remove me out of the water altogether and put me up on dry land, He knows the world we live in and that it will never stop trying to pull us out to the depths. In John 16:33, Jesus says, “These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”

The waves will roll over my head, the enemy will try to convince me to stop swimming. But the Lord, the Lord Almighty will teach me to swim. The Holy Spirit will buoy me, the Great Physician will heal me, the power of Christ will strengthen me. We will face my crippling hurts together and He will breathe new life into the dead parts of my soul. He will unshackle the weights the enemy has chained to my limbs, and teach me to use them again. I will keep my eyes ever on Him—reading His word to renew my mind and speaking His truth to my hurting spirit. I pray in the power that changes things, changes me; I try (in His power) to cast off the old weights and get my stride. It does not come easy, it is work. I’m fighting the current. But the more I immerse myself in the things of the Lord, the stronger I become. I can only write about this because I have lived it. I have been bound up and I have been set free. Matthew 11:28 says: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest! “ The ebb tide will never stop, but the difference now is that (in Him) I can navigate the rough waters—I can swim..

In what ways is the ebb trying to take you out? How are your limbs bound up?

What would it look if you let the Lord unwind the areas in your life that are twisted up?

Are you being called to help someone else learn to swim?