Ecuador, Part 1: Boasting in My Weakness

The view from the top of the new cathedral in Cuenca, Ecuador

Ecuador

November 2-12, 2019

I’ve only had a few experiences in my life that I would consider to be life-changing, and each experience has proven so rich and full and impacting that it’s hard to put words to. My first mission trip was one of these times, without a doubt. Still, I am a “words” person, so I want to see if I can try to share at least a glimpse of the amazing, wonderful things God did in and through me in Ecuador. I could probably share dozens of times and not be able to cover all that He did in that 10-day span, but I’m hoping I can give at least a glimpse so that others can be encouraged and inspired at what our awesome God can do.

Beautiful scenery at Mirador Tres Cruces in Ecuador

I remember as a child telling my parents I wanted to be a missionary when I grew up, and I have had on my heart to do a mission trip of some sort for a while now, so when the opportunity to go to Ecuador with my church came, I jumped on it. My very good friend was leading it, it was to the country that another friend would soon be moving to in full-time ministry, and I wanted to take this next step in my walk with God. From the very beginning of this process, though, all the way back to last year when we had our very first informational meeting for the trip, I struggled with knowing for sure if I really should go. Even the night before that first meeting, Satan whispered one awful, debilitating message to my heart, “If you try to do this, you will be a liability to the team and to the work God wants to do.” He continued that message for the entire year, always adding another strand to it: 

“You will hold the others back, and ruin what God wants to do." 

"You are too weak, too afraid, and too much to handle." 

"You will only add stress and challenge to the leaders and the others, and won’t be of any actual use.” 

Though I tried to dismiss those words and move ahead, they still left an impact. I struggled intensely with the fear that my going on this trip would lead to the team being somehow hindered in their work, so while I went to the meetings, helped with the fundraising, worked on my Spanish, and did all I could to prepare for this trip, all the time my heart was quaking with the fear that I should not go. Deep within, though, I felt God leading me forward, urging me to step out in faith, reminding me in so many little ways that He wanted me there. It was only by His grace and mercy that I was able to get through all of the preparations and ended up sitting with my team on a plane, headed out for my first time out of the country without family, and the longest I had ever been away from my kids.

I thought that by getting on that first plane and taking that huge leap into doing what God said, I would have defeated that awful “liability” message once and for all, would be able to overcome my tendencies toward fear and anxiety, and would be able to get through without any trouble. Basically, I thought it would be easy.

Waiting at an airport on one of our three layovers

When we landed at the next airport though, and the rest of the team was in line for lunch, I sat at a table and was suddenly overcome with awful homesickness and anxiety. As tears started to burn my eyes, I heard that terrible message again: “See? What did I tell you. It’s happening, even now. You aren’t even out of the country yet and you’re already making a fool of yourself, distracting the team, adding stress. I told you. You are a liability and a hindrance.”

I fell apart worse than I can ever remember doing in a public place. I could not stop crying, as much as I tried to smash the tears away and settle my heart. I was so angry with myself, and felt that Satan’s message had been true all along. “This was such a horrible mistake.” I couldn’t even explain to my team what was happening, I was so upset, embarrassed, and mixed up inside. Still, they did all they could to help: sharing their lunch, praying with and for me, offering hugs and words of reassurance. Somehow we muddled our way through and after 14 hours of travel, we made it to Ecuador and our hotel for the night. Even then I was so, so unsettled, and had no idea of how I was going to make it through the next week.  As I fell asleep that night, I cried out to God and begged Him, “Please, Lord. Please show me you want me here. I can’t do this unless you tell me, very specifically, that I belong here; that this wasn’t a mistake.” That was honestly one of the most desperate, terrified prayers I have ever said, and one of the most intense moments I have ever had of recognizing my inabilities and “humanness”.

Probably the most accurate photo of how I was feeling during the day of travel

Somehow I was able to get some sleep, and when I woke up the next morning, I was greeted by a message from my dear friend and team leader. She had been writing it at the exact time I was crying out to God the night before, and when I saw the words she sent, I was deeply impacted: “You were called to this place for a purpose. It was not a mistake. Your Heavenly Father knows all the things you’re worried about and He has got you.” Needless to say, I cried; but this time, it was out of sheer gratitude and awe in how God had answered that desperate prayer. I hadn’t been able to explain to anyone what I was feeling, and yet God used my friend to share with me exactly what I begged Him to tell me. From that moment, I felt immense peace, grace, and boldness to do the work God had for me. There were still a handful of moments when I struggled, of course, but I never again had any doubt that God wanted me there, and I was able to carry out the resolution I had made to say “yes” to whatever He asked me to do on the trip. 

Me with my wonderful friend (and the team leader) Meghan

Going through that first day and night of pain was hard, but looking back I know it had a purpose. I believe that God allowed me to face that utter desperation and inability at the airport in order to show me and others that anything that was accomplished later on was all by His power. My team and I came face to face with who I am at my worst: on my own I am fearful, weak, and insecure. But when God takes over, I am bold and passionate and brave; and what a gift that God allowed us all to see both of those extremes on this trip so that there was no doubt Who was at work! Any good thing that I did was all because of how God equipped and empowered me, and I found that to be true for each member of our team.

2 Corinthians 12:9 expresses this truth so well: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I know weakness isn’t something our culture teaches us to admit to, but in God’s kingdom it’s different. In God’s kingdom our weakness is just a better showcase for His power, and it’s pretty incredible to get to experience that firsthand. Because of that, I can honestly say “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

So what do I want you guys to take from this? Simply this: don’t think that any kind of inability or weakness can stop God from working through you. I promise you, no matter how unable, afraid, weak, untalented, or unmotivated you are, God can do incredible things through you. God isn’t surprised by your brokenness, sinfulness, or fragileness. He made us, and He chooses to call us and use us in spite of all of our downfalls. I can’t wait to share some of the incredible ways He did that in my life on this mission trip.

An outdoor market in Guayakil, Ecuador

Click here to read part 2

Pursued, Known, Loved

My church had its annual Christmas party this weekend, something I had been wanting to attend but hadn't had the chance to yet. This year, though, my husband graciously agreed to run our son's birthday sleepover, and the other kids were taken care of, so I was free to finally experience the fun. What I didn't expect, though, was for God to use that event, and two amazing friends, to remind me of some very special gifts He gives His people through the Savior we celebrate during Christmas.

When that big night finally arrived, I was ready. I had bought my white elephant gift (one I actually really wanted myself!), found a cute and festive outfit to wear, and dropped my other kids off with their childcare. I left home on a high simply because I was finally out of the house and had an entire night to myself! As I got closer to the church, though, I was taken aback by a growing feeling of anxiety. I tend to get social anxiety every once in a while, but this time it didn't make much sense; this was my church! I know and love these people, and had been looking forward to this party for weeks now. Still, the fact remained that I was struggling with a lot of uncertainty and felt suddenly very insecure and uncomfortable in my own skin. When I arrived and saw how many people were actually at this event, my low-level anxiety quickly began to snowball into a more intense fear. Still, I weaved through the crowd, set my gift beneath the Christmas tree in the center of the room, and wandered over to the drink table.

"Maybe having something to hold will distract me," I reasoned with myself.  I got a warm drink and tried to force myself to socialize, smiling at people who passed by, saying hello and making small talk with a few of my fellow party-goers. I really wanted to make this thing work, and was using all of the tools I had learned to try to break myself out of this anxiety cycle. As I leaned against the wall, though, sipping my coffee and taking the atmosphere in, something very akin to panic suddenly hit me. It was like a tidal wave of fear smashed into me and swept me away, to the point that my emotions became physical symptoms: I couldn't get a good breath, my heart was pounding, and I felt suddenly nauseous. 

"I need to get out of here."

I pulled myself away from the wall, pushed through the crowd, and headed for the door. At first I thought I would just take a moment to breathe outside away from the noise and people, recollect myself, and try again. But as I got into my car and waited for that awful panic to ebb away, one thought latched itself around my heart: "I can't do this." I needed to leave. 

Part of me felt completely relieved at the thought of just getting to escape the challenge, but another felt so disappointed and frustrated; after all of the work God had done in me in the last year, and all of the things we'd been through, why was something as simple as a Christmas party still such a struggle? Where was the confident, happy "me" I knew was trying to make more of an appearance lately (and who I also happen to really like?) 

Still, just the thought of trying to go back into that party sent my heart racing again, so I took out my phone to text two of my friends there and explain that I had to leave, then I started the car and drove off. I was crying as I left the parking lot, still struggling in the battle between wanting to overcome and enjoy the night, but truly being unable to make myself go back.

I had barely gotten a minute down the road when my phone started ringing. I saw that it was Nicole, one of the friends I had texted, and felt my heart sink. 

"Uh oh. She's going to try to get me to come back. And I can't. But that will make her sad. This. Is. The. Worst!"

 In the time it took me to pull myself together a bit more and find a parking lot to stop in, I had missed her call. I considered just letting it all go, but my sense of social etiquette won out, and I called her back. 

She answered on the first ring and simply demanded, "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, Nicole. I left."

"What?! No, are you joking??"

"No! I'm not! I'm parked at the library."

"NO! No way, no, come back!"

"NO. Nicole, I can't. No no no no." (For some reason the only word I could manage to say over and over was "no.")

"YES! Yes. Come back.You will love it, I promise. You can do this."

"No, I can't!" And then I started crying again. I was so frustrated with myself, but I couldn't help it. I was torn by my desire to not disappoint my friend and the intense anxiety I had at the thought of going back. "It's not that I don't want to!" I tried to explain, "I just physically can't! I'm going to throw up if I go back."

"But WHY? Please, Mary, please come back. This is exactly what happened to me before, and trust me, you'll just really regret it if you don't come back! You have to come back, I'm standing outside here, waiting for you!"

Even in that moment, in spite of my anxiety and emotion, I realized something pretty amazing: my friend was showing me the beautiful truth that I was wanted. It mattered that I was gone; she cared that I wasn't there, and she was being very (very) clear in communicating that to me. This was the first gift from our Savior that God showed me that night: He wants us. He cares very much when His people have wandered away, and He doesn't just let that go. He actively pursues us and doesn't give up, just like my awesome (albeit stubborn) friend was showing me on the phone.

Nicole and I went back and forth for a while, me crying and her alternating between pleading with me to come back and semi-threatening me, but we were at a complete stalemate. Both of us can be very tenacious, and we honestly probably would have stayed stuck in that conversation, simply saying "no" back and forth to each other for hours, if Nicole hadn't pulled in her secret weapon.

"Alright," she said, "Here's Meghan. Talk to her."

"NO!" and a whole new wave of tears started again. "NO! No no no no no!" (I'm not very eloquent when I'm panicking.)

Again, I was rather bewildered by the level of fear that rose up at that moment; Meghan, like Nicole, is a very good friend of mine that I love dearly. It made no sense for me to be feeling such panic at the thought of her getting on the phone. After thinking it through, though, I realize now why I was so afraid: Meghan really knows me. We've been friends for several years now, and have been through quite a bit in that time. We've done life together; she knows about my anxiety, and also when she should push me to overcome that struggle, and when it's just too much for me to handle in the moment (FYI she usually leans toward "pushing me to overcome it"). It is both an amazing blessing and terrifying vulnerability to have somebody know me that well. If I really dig deep and think back to that moment in the parking lot, that was the source of my fear as Meghan took the phone; as much as I love and trust her, that level of vulnerability felt extra scary in my anxious state that night. I think that what it boiled down to was: "Is she going to use her knowledge of me against me somehow?"

But the way God responded to that fear still makes me tear up.

As soon as she got on the phone, and I heard the calm kindness in her voice, my anxiety began to dissipate.

"Hey. What's happening? What's so scary about this thing for you?" There wasn't a trace of judgement or impatience in her tone; she was genuinely asking the questions she knew would help me open up and talk through things with her, something she's done for me many times before. So even though I felt silly and was frustrated that I was still crying, I told her exactly what I was afraid of, rattling things off a trifle hysterically, and ended by saying, "I can't go back to the church like this, all crazy and with mascara all over my face! I don't want everyone to see me like this and have to try to explain it to them all."

Her response was as calm and kind as ever, but also showed no sign of letting me cave in to those fears. "Well then, you just come back here, and you go to the bathroom, splash some water on your face, and then sit in the back row next to me." Then she added temptingly, "And then you eat the chocolate cookies I brought. I made a whole bunch more of those ones we made yesterday."

That's how the conversation went: me explaining my fears and giving all of the excuses I could, and her patiently listening and then calmly sharing the logical response and plan of action (complete with promises of chocolate, and a few silly jokes for good measure.) She used her knowledge of me to gently remind me of truth, make me laugh, and encourage me...all while still holding me to the standard of not giving in to my fear. And that was the next gift that God helped me understand more that night: Our Savior knows us intimately, but He doesn't use that knowledge against us, to manipulate, punish, or shame us. He made us and knows us better than we know ourselves, and He uses that insight for our good: to help, encourage, and grow us. Meghan reflected that beautifully to me that night, and it filled my heart. 

Then these two amazing friends of mine teamed up, and it was then that I knew I was a goner. Meghan had listened, joked, and bribed enough to calm me down, and she knew my sense of humor was kicking back in. "Ok, you need to come back now, cuz it's freezing out here, and we've made a pact that we are not going back inside until you show up."

"What? NO! You can't do that! You've been sick!"

"I know!" she said, and then coughed for good measure, "I'm catching pneumonia out here all because you won't come back! I'll bring it up for years to come: Hey, remember that time I caught pneumonia all because you wouldn't come back to the Christmas party?"

"Ooooh that's a low blow, Meghan!" I chided her, laughing. 

Then Nicole piped up in the background, "Yes! And also, we are going to take off an article of clothing for every minute it takes you to come back!"

"Ok, ok. I'm starting my car. I'm coming back. Just go inside!"

"NO. We made a pact."

(Are you seeing a theme of stubbornness in me and my friends?)

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the church, not really because I truly believed my friends would let themselves freeze or get sick, but because their show of resolved affection for me impacted me so much, and I cared more about showing them gratitude for it than I did about my anxiety.

Meghan stayed on the phone with me as I drove back and wove an elaborate tale of them both standing barely-clothed in front of the church, catching deadly diseases as they shivered in the cold. 

"Oh please," I giggled, "Yeah right. You guys are so silly."

But when I finally got parked and came walking up, I was stunned to find them both standing outside of the front doors of our church, barefoot, wearing nothing but jeans and tanktops, with their sweaters, shoes, and socks in a pile on the ground. For a moment I just stared at them in shock, and then we all burst into hysterical laughter.

It was at this timely moment that the children's director of our church came out. She looked at my half-naked friends, their pile of clothes, and then me. Then she simply shook her head and said, "You guys need to get inside or you're going to miss the white elephant number drawing."

We fell into a new round of hysterics as my friends scrambled to re-clothe themselves, and we went into the church together.

As the evening went on, God used my friends to remind me of one last gift found in our Savior:
His incredible, caring love, and the lengths He went to in order to show that to His people. These wonderful ladies were a small reflection of the immense love Jesus has for us:

They were willing to stand outside of our church in 40 degree weather, barely clothed, to prove how much they loved me and wanted me back.
Our precious Savior willingly bore a horrible death and took our sins on Himself to share that same message. Romans 5:8 tells us, "but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

My friends found me a seat where I would feel less overwhelmed by people, and stayed close by to provide the security I needed to feel calm and secure.
Our amazing Lord promised, "I will never leave you or forsake you." (Hebrews 13:5).

They gave up their preferences to make sure I had a good time that night (things like sitting where they may not have originally planned to, walking up with me to get food even though they had already eaten, and spending the time focused on helping me have a good time instead of on just enjoying the party themselves).
Jesus gave up everything for His people, forsaking His rightful place in Heaven, even willingly facing separation from the Father in order to give us life to the full. Philippians 2:6-8 explains, "though he was in the form of God, (He) did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross."

That Christmas party itself was very fun, and I'm so glad I went back. The best part by far, though, was that I got to see a clearer image of our amazing, loving Savior through the lens of my two wonderful friends. It reminded me of Who we celebrate during this season, and of the many reasons His birth was such a gift to His people. As we near Christmas and wrap up this year, I hope this is something you all can reflect on, too. Jesus's birth means we have Someone who loves us too much to let us wander away; Someone who knows us more than we can comprehend, and uses that knowledge to bless and help us; and Someone who went to incredible lengths to show His love for us. He is truly the greatest Gift we could ever hope to receive.

My Story for His Glory

***It's been a long time since I've published anything here on this little blog, though I have still been writing a lot. I've recently come out of a very hard season, one in which I needed to process and work through things on my own a little more, and wasn't ready to put out there for others to see. Now that I'm more on the other side of it, I'm hoping to share little pieces here and there, because I can see how very much God taught me in and through it all, and I really want to encourage and help anyone else who might be struggling, as well as share the amazing work God accomplished in and through me***

I absolutely love journals. I have kept a daily journal for half of my life now, writing out my prayers as a way to connect with God and clear my overloaded brain before I start the day. (It’s kind of the only way my super-distracted mind can stay focused while praying!) I often receive journals as gifts from people who know my love (and, honestly, need) for this daily habit, and each time I do it is such a blessing; I can’t wait to fill the pages with the prayers, blessings, and lessons to come. 

A few months ago, I finished a journal that a dear friend of mine gave me for Christmas last year. I was sitting at a bakery, enjoying a pumpkin muffin, when I opened that sweet little journal up and realized I was on the very last page. I paused for a moment and smiled a little sadly; it is always a bittersweet moment for me when I come to the end of a journal. I like to flip back through and briefly read over the events that had occurred in that span of time, and take a moment to see how God blessed, helped, and provided for me. As I prepared to do the same with this one, though, I had a sudden realization that made me stop in my tracks. I had forgotten, but I started this journal right in the middle of a very, very hard season…just days after one of the lowest times I’d ever had. In fact, this sweet little book almost didn’t even get the chance to be used by me at all.

 Tears filled my eyes as I turned to the first page and read that first entry, remembering the deep struggles and intense battles I was fighting at that time, and how I had hoped (really, kind of begged) that I would get to write some “happier” pages in this book. My specific prayer for this little journal was for God to allow its pages to show the “fruit” of the trials and pain I had already faced in previous months—to display growth and change and more of His Spirit being evident in my life. And you know what? In the 120 pages representing 6 more really, really hard months, God did just that. It definitely was not all sunshine and rainbows and a sudden transformation into a beautiful reflection of God’s work. Honestly, more than half of this journal holds some very hard, ugly, painful stuff as God walked me through deep depression, a lot of loss, false beliefs, heartbreak after heartbreak...basically one of the most intense seasons of refinement I’ve had yet. But really, the fact that it has a lot of tear-stained, angrily scribbled-on pages only makes the beauty of the final few pages in it shine brighter. Sitting in that bakery on that Friday morning, reading and reflecting over all of this, I was completely overwhelmed. To think of everything I was nine months ago—the brokenness, hopelessness, despair, and faithlessness—and see what God did in spite of it and through it all is just mind-blowing.

In ways, it’s really hard to think back on these things myself, let alone share them with others! I’ve realized, though, that this is part of my story. It isn’t pretty at first glance, or something I want to shout from the rooftops at all…until I look past the part that has to do with me, and turn my eyes on what God redeemed. Really, “my” story doesn’t have much to do with me at all, but everything to do with God and what He has done in me. That’s where the beauty lies, and where everything that should be shared comes to light. The focus shouldn’t be on what was, but rather on what He brought from it. He took complete brokenness and despair and inability and did everything He needed to do in order to bring me to where I am. He gave me beauty for ashes; He brought me through fire and flood to a place of not only surviving but truly thriving; He took a withered, parched plant and tended it and healed it so that now it is flourishing and has the chance to produce fruit for Him. That’s why I want to share this now; not to talk about me, but to point others to Him and showcase what he can do with a life that is given over to Him, no matter how broken and hopeless it may seem. He is so faithful, Guys, even when we are faithless. It’s incredibly humbling and overwhelming to reflect on this year and everything God has brought me through. 

On that Friday that I finished this journal, I read Isaiah 51:3, and it pretty much perfectly sums up exactly what God did for me in the span of this book: 

Obviously I have a lot of journals, but you know what? That one that almost didn't get used is always going to be one of my favorites, because it is the one that God chose to write a really beautiful story in: my story for His glory.

Day by Day

Do any of you struggle with taking life day by day? I think it must be a pretty common issue based on the number of quotes and quips about living in the moment, savoring each day, and focusing on the present. There’s a definite balance to be had in remembering the past but not getting stuck in it, and preparing for the future but not missing out on the present. I myself have fallen into both of these extremes at one time or another, and doing that has definitely helped me to understand the importance of taking life one day at a time, not only for my own sake but also for others'. Think about it: if we were really focused on today—on the blessings to thank God for, the opportunities to serve Him and love others, the growth and lessons He could use to shape us—can you imagine how God could use us? I think that Satan likes to keep us distracted from the present by having us focus on the past or future because he also knows how God could use someone who is sensitive to the moment. So with that said, how can we grow in this art of living day by day? I’m glad you asked. Here is what I am learning.

LIVING IN THE PAST

“No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” 

~Luke 9:62

If you struggle with living in the past, I think the best remedy for that is to let go. I think this is an ongoing, conscious choice we have to make over and over:

• To think back on sweet gifts and blessings we no longer have and thank God for them, but then accept that He has removed them now and walk willingly through the grief and loss with God’s grace and help. Psalm 143:5-6 expresses this well: "I remember the days of old.  I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done. I lift my hands to you in prayer. I thirst for you as parched land thirsts for rain."
• To learn the lessons gained from painful interactions or circumstances, but then let go of whatever bitterness, anger, or hurt we may be tempted to grip onto to protect ourselves from future pain. "Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you." (Colossians 3:13)
• To acknowledge that we were disappointed or wounded by people and events, but then trust that God can (and does) use even those things to bring about good. The story of Joseph is an awesome example of this, but one verse in particular wraps it all up, when Joseph talks to his brothers after they sold him into slavery: "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives." (Geneis 50:20)

Isaiah 43:18-19 tells us, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” We don’t want to miss whatever new things God has in store because we are so caught up in the past. 

FOCUSED ON THE FUTURE

"Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?"

~Luke 12:25-26

If your struggle is more in the realm of what is to come, I think the biggest remedy is to simply trust God, to have the humility to rely on Him and leave every part of your future in His hands. There are so many areas we can apply this practice:

• If you are worried about having what you may need later, remember that it is ultimately God who provides, and He promises to meet your every need. Matthew 6:31-34 tells us, “So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
• If you look to the days ahead and are overwhelmed by looming trials, grief, or challenges, remember that you don’t see the whole picture; you don’t know what kinds of mercies, grace, help, and strength God will provide to get you through them. Lamentations 3:21-23 says, “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” God will give you new mercies for every new morning, perfectly tailored for whatever the day may bring.
• If you find yourself distracted from today because you are caught up in making plans for success later on, remember that “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9) We need to have the humility to remember that ultimately all of our plans may fail; only God’s will endures. I don’t think it’s at all bad to make plans and try to be purposeful in our time, but we still need to keep a sense of humility in understanding that ultimately God’s plans are the ones that will happen (which is really a good thing, since He says in Jeremiah 29:11 that His plans are to prosper us and give us hope and a future.)

Matthew 6:34 tells us, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Don't borrow trouble, worry, or stress from tomorrow. Just focus on whatever God has for you today and walk through it in His strength and grace. 

My favorite Bible verse that I’ve adopted as my life verse is Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God.” I recently found out that “be still” is actually translated as the Hebrew word for "let go", which means that this verse is a perfect one to keep in mind in order to help us focus on living in the present"

“Be still (let go) [of the past] and know that I am God [trust me with your future].” 

 Let’s all try to remember to live this way and see how God can use people who are truly living day by day.

Sunday is Coming

Our church had a “Good Friday” service this year, and it happened to coincide with my husband’s longest business trip in almost three years. He left early on Sunday morning, and won’t be back until late Saturday night, and though the week has gone well—the kids have been well-behaved overall, we’ve spent a lot of fun time together, and nothing serious has gone wrong—by Friday I hit the point of emotional exhaustion. My heart was so, so lonely, and I was tired of holding it all together and handling so much on my own. I almost didn’t go to the service, I was so depleted, but it was the first Good Friday service our church had done, and I wanted to be part of it. Plus I was honestly very swayed by the thought of having someone else watch at least my youngest (and at the moment, most challenging) child, and knowing I would have a little extra adult interaction after six days of "solo parenting". If my husband’s intense travel has taught me one thing, it’s to always take advantage of a chance to be with other grown-ups! So my equally tired kids and I all drove to church and filed inside, where one of the sweet teenagers gleefully took my toddler from me and brought him to the church nursery while I helped a visiting friend and her kids get settled. 

The service was very good—I was encouraged by the music and inspired by the video they shared, and definitely felt "filled up" by the time with fellow believers. The thing that struck me the most, though, was something our pastor kept repeating throughout the message: "Sunday is coming. Today is Friday…but Sunday is coming." He was talking about the grief, pain, and what appeared to be defeat that Good Friday held for the disciples and all who followed Jesus. Here was the Messiah and Savior that the people had waited centuries for, and who was supposed to rescue them and free them from all of their problems. But now, He was gone. Jesus was tortured, hung on a cross, killed, and then set in a tomb…and that seemed to be the end. We know, of course, that there was more to the story, and that in three days He rose again. Sunday came, and with it all of the joy and hope and victory of Easter. But the disciples didn’t know that. To them, Friday was the end.

Like those disciples, I feel the weight and pain of “Friday” myself. My husband’s travel season is hard--I miss him, and I often feel lonely and overwhelmed—but more than that, I’m reeling from an overall time of grief and loss. It has been a rough several months, and I have so many questions, and so much hurt, and not a lot of answers or healing yet. I am very much in a “Friday” season, stuck with those first Christ-followers in grieving what I’ve longed for and lost, and wondering how I’m supposed to keep moving forward when things look so very hard. 

But…Sunday is coming.

Friday isn’t the end. Sometimes it seems like Sunday will never arrive, but it did back then for the disciples, and it always will for all who follow Jesus. Jesus rose again; He overcame death; He won the victory. And more than that, He is going to return for all of His people. He is going to deliver us and take us Home with Him where there is no more loss and grief; where we never have to say goodbye to loved ones, or lose companions; where we won’t have unanswered questions and will understand everything perfectly. 

As I write this, it’s Saturday. My husband isn’t home yet, and Easter isn’t here yet. I am right in the middle of waiting for both temporary relief and comfort from a lonely and challenging season, and also a time of celebrating my eternal redemption and rescue from every hard, painful thing. My heart is still aching; I am weary and lonely; and I am dreading the road ahead.

But, I also know Sunday is coming. That means that although I don’t understand now, someday I will; although right now I am filled with grief, someday there will be joy; although right now I feel intense loss, someday there will be victory; and although right now I can’t see how things could ever turn out ok, someday they really will—more than I can even hope or imagine.

So, friends, if you’re like me, sitting with the disciples on that Friday feeling defeated, hopeless, and unsure of how to move forward, repeat after me: 

Friday isn't forever. 

Sunday is coming. 

It really is. 

"So shall we join the disciples of our Lord, keeping faith in Him in spite of the crucifixion, and making ready, by our loyalty to Him in the days of His darkness, for the time when we shall enter into His triumph in the days of His light." -Philip Ledyard Cuyler

While I Wait

I've never been very good at waiting. I'm more of a plan-and-act person: find the problem, discover solutions, and implement changes...BOOM, problem solved. I'm finding, though, that with some circumstances, this just doesn't work. We can figured out the issue, find all the solutions we can, and start working toward change, but ultimately it's going to take time for things to improve...and that means a lot of waiting.

I'm finding myself in this situation right now, where there is really not much more I can do to move forward. I’ve been faithful in doing all of the things I can do in my own power; now I have to let go and trust God to finish it and bring about the changes, healing, and growth I need in His timing. I’m waiting, and I have choices to make regarding how I will do that. Here are the things I am learning and trying to make purposeful decisions about while I wait.

1. Will You Whine or Worship?

In church a couple of weeks ago I was reminded that there will always be things we have to do that we may not enjoy, but if we’re going to do it, why not do it right, with a good attitude? I hate to be the bearer or bad news, but we are all going to have to wait sometimes. God calls everyone to a season of “not yet” sooner or later, and it is in those times that we have  the choice to do it “kicking and screaming”, or purposely choosing to look to the One who has placed us  where we are for a very specific purpose; loves us more than we will ever comprehend; and promises to work all things out for our good.

There is an excellent song by Lincoln Brewster called "While I Wait", and it has really spoken to my heart in this season. The words convey a purposeful choice to still worship God in spite of the pain and unknown in waiting for resolution:

Deep within my heart, I know You've won, I know You've overcome

And even in the dark, when I'm undone, I still believe it

I live by faith, and not by sight

Sometimes miracles take time

While I wait, I will worship; Lord, I'll worship Your name

While I wait, I will trust You; Lord, I'll trust You all the same

When I fall apart, You are my strength; Help me not forget

Seeing every scar, You make me whole; You're my healer

I live by faith, and not by sight

Sometimes miracles take time

I live by faith, and not by sight

Sometimes miracles take time...

You're faithful every day

Your promises remain

You're faithful every day

Your promises remain

Though I don't understand it I will worship with my pain

You are God, You are worthy; You are with me all the way

So while I wait, I will worship; Lord, I'll worship Your name

Though I don't have all the answers, Still I trust You all the same

There are going to be many times when God’s timing just isn’t ours, and we have to wait for Him to come through with the miracle, healing, and answers we long for. In these times, though, He is still worthy of worship. He deserves our praise, not only for all that He has already done and will eventually do, but even for what He is doing in the waiting (whether we see it or not). So we all have a choice to keep our eyes focused on ourselves—on what we long for, how long it is taking to get it, and how very painful and hard it is to wait—or on the Unchanging One who is always worthy of our praise.

2. Will You Be Miserable or Make the Most of Things?

Until circumstances change and the desired answers and changes are provided, we can decide to sit around moping, grumbling, and depressed (yes, I have done this). Or, we can choose to find some kind of good in this waiting--or even better, create good in an otherwise very bad situation. I’m not at all saying this will be easy; in fact, in many cases it can be intensely difficult. The fact of the matter is, though, that grumbling about your circumstances will not make them change or improve any faster. All it will do is feed into your own misery and maybe even bring down the people around you. I’m not saying we shouldn’t share each other’s burdens or be honest with others about our struggles (just see my post on vunerability for more on that), but there is a difference between seeking support and help, and “venting” our yuckiness in order to gain sympathy or appreciation from others. (Yes, again, I've been guilty of this).

Instead of grudgingly “accepting” that things are just going to be bad now and waiting for them to get better, why not do what you can to make things as enjoyable as possible while you wait? Just this week I was taught a good example of this in my own life. The spring and summer are busy travel times at work for my husband, and he is often gone at least every other week for anywhere from 3-7 days each trip. After doing this routine for almost 3 years now, I’ve gotten pretty good about not feeling too anxious or upset by it. Yes, I miss my husband; of course the circumstances aren’t my favorite; things are definitely more challenging and tiring as a “solo mom”; and I am very much looking forward to when things ease up. I’ve grown to realize, though, this really isn’t the end of the world, and we will make it through this season. My counselor challenged me to take this one step farther: don’t just “make it through”, but make the most of it. She suggested I set up special things that are only done when Daddy is gone: unique meals, certain outings, little traditions, etc. “This way,” she explained, “the times when Daddy are home are good…and the times when he is traveling are good, too.” 

Someday my husband’s travel schedule will ease up, or he could get a less demanding job, or my kids will be old enough for me to leave behind so I can join him on more of his travelling adventures. I don't want to miss out on the joy and fun this season could have while I'm waiting, though! I want to make special memories with my kids so they look back on Daddy’s travel as special times with Mommy and not just a hard thing we survived but didn’t really like. What can you do, now, to make the most of the waiting time you are in?

3. Will You Tremble or Trust?

I completely understand the feelings of anxiety, uncertainty, and dread that can surface while waiting. Whatever you are waiting for--change, healing, improvement, adjustment--any kind of delay can cause a lot of fear. The Bible even speaks to this experience: “Hope deferred makes the heart sick,” says Proverbs 13:12. I’ve had moments in my own waiting that I have crumpled into panic, wondering if things really will ever get better, or if it will always be “like this”. That fear can easily spiral into defeat and ultimately despair if we don’t battle it. The next part of the verse, though, gives us the answer in how to win that battle: “…but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.” We can choose to trust that God will bring about what we are waiting for. It may not look exactly like we envision or hope, but things are not going to be this way forever; we will not be waiting and wondering for the rest of our days. Beyond that, we have ultimate hope in remembering and trusting that God is going to use every single part of this waiting for our good. It really comes down to that same lesson I myself keep coming back to: letting go (of our need to control, have answers, fix the problems, just be happy again)...and let God do what He wants to do instead.

“I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

“We know that God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love Him.” (Romans 8:28) 

Waiting isn’t easy, and can be very painful and humbling. However, when we are called to these times, I believe we will learn more, grow faster, and draw nearer to God when we make the purposeful choices to worship Him, make the most of the time, and trust our loving Father...no matter how long it takes.

The Blue Ball

For the last few weeks I have gotten to be part of a Bible study with my mom and "sisters-in-love". We spend a few hours enjoying my mom's awesome cookies, drinking coffee, and learning about the Armor of God. At our most recent gathering, my mom's dog, Winston, kept scratching at a closet door, whining and crying. We asked Mom what was up, and she sighed and explained that he was looking for "the blue ball". Apparently, up until recently, he had a blue tennis ball that he absolutely loved, but he had torn it all up so Mom had to throw it out. She had given him some others, but the result was always the same: he destroyed them. Because of that, my mom decided to stop buying that kind of ball, and was hoping he would just be content with the myriad of other toys he had.

Apparently, she was wrong. 

Poor Winston was absolutely convinced he had to have that blue ball, and nothing else would do. He kept looking at us piteously, scratching at the door and whining. "Maybe if you let him see it isn't there, he will move on?" I suggested. So she patiently went over and opened the door, even lifting him up so he could see that the blue ball was nowhere to be found. She set him back down, leaving the door open, and tried to show him the other toys strewn throughout the room. Winston, however, wouldn't have it. He spent almost the entire morning sniffing around that closet, whining, sitting back on his back legs to look up on the shelves, doing all he could to try to find that treasured blue ball. He could not let it go, and let all of the other toys and treats he had available to him go unused and not enjoyed, because all of them seemed to pale in comparison to his favorite toy.

Seeing him do that made me think. How often have I been like that poor, sad little dog? How often have I received a gift from God that I truly treasured and enjoyed, and then gone into a panic when it's time to let go of it? I try to hold on, long past what God ever intended, and continue to search for it after it is gone, to the exclusion of noticing and enjoying the other gifts God has for me. How much am I like Winston, scratching at closed doors, searching in empty places for what I so desperately want, choosing to lay and cry in misery rather than looking around at the other sweet things God has left for me to enjoy?
My mom absolutely adores Winston, and has faithfully cared for him for his entire life, providing all that he needs and even a lot of what simply brings him joy. As much as she loves him, though, it is barely a shadow of how God feels about me--about all of us. He always cares, provides for needs, and pours out sweet blessings to bring us delight. If He removes something from our lives, it is out of love and care, and is something we can safely trust was for the best. So, let's learn a lesson from little Winston and make the conscious choice to simply trust God, let go of what He says He needs to take away, and notice the other things He's given us. I have a feeling He has plenty of good in store.