So, I Hate to Vacuum...

My least favorite chore is vacuuming.

I actually kind of love cleaning my kitchen and wiping down surfaces and sweeping up crumbs. I like cleaning my bathroom, wiping spots off of the mirror and toothpaste out of the sink. I even kind of like doing laundry, the redundancy of wash, dry, put away, repeat.

I love seeing progress: the dirt wiped away, the counter clean and bright for one, brief moment.

But I hate vacuuming. It takes a whopping amount of energy or motivation for me to lug out our circa 1985 vacuum cleaner, pick up everything off the floor, plug and unplug the vacuum from room to room.

Ugh. It's the worst.

I think that the main reason that I loathe vacuuming so much is because our carpet is awful. It is wrinkly, it is stained, it is ugly. Until we can afford to remove or replace it, we are stuck with it.

Our carpet is so far gone that it is tough to even tell when it has been vacuumed. In essence, it looks dirty no matter how recently it's been cleaned.

Therefore, I don't see any progress or betterment, so it is difficult to enjoy my hard work. Shoot, forget enjoy, it's hard to even justify lugging our vacuum cleaner out of hiding and picking up every toy off of the floor.

Matt doesn't have to help with a single other household chore; if he will just vacuum for me, my heart explodes in star showers of love for him.

At least when I do other household chores, there's an automatic payoff of momentary cleanliness. When I vacuum, I am still looking at ugly. The carpet may BE clean, but if it doesn't LOOK clean, what's the point?

When it comes to growing deeper in my walk with God, I think it can be similar to my vacuuming conundrum.

Whatever progress is made can be indiscernible at times, which makes it tempting to give up or slack off. I often cannot tell that there is a difference in my growth, especially when it feels like I am fighting the same battles daily, weekly, annually. Whats the point? Why lug out the giant vacuum cleaner or the giant study Bible if it makes no difference? If I feel no different? If my struggle feels the same?

For starters, just because something doesn't look clean doesn't mean it isn't. Just because someone doesn't seem clean, doesn't mean she isn't. Psalm 139 makes it beautifully clear that God knows me more than I even know myself. It's a reminder to me that He sees the progress. I was saved and cleaned and made righteous through Jesus' death on the cross. So even when I don't feel it, I can know it is true. 2 Corinthians 5:21 helps me remember, "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God"

Secondly, retrospect is a great revealer. I may not feel different day-to-day in my walk with God, but when I look back at where I was 2 years, or 5 years, or 10 years ago, I can see how the incremental shifts have added up to abundant change.

Lastly, I need to remember that I don't read my Bible and pray and seek Him because it helps me to feel a certain way. I do those things because I love Him immensely and I want to know Him more.

If the start of this new year is weighing you down more than anything else, and it feels like some struggles will never fall away and your mess remains, I want to encourage you.

Keep pressing in. Keep seeking Him. Keep your desire for Him alive. Stay faithful and you will become fruitful, as He turns those incremental shifts into abundant change. Do the hard work of lugging that metaphorical vacuum cleaner out of the closet and clean away the mess, even if it feels the same when you're done.

He is working. He sees the change. In Him, you are clean.

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up" - Galatians 6:9

That One Time Jonas Fell

Last night, my boys had beans so I did what any mommy of bean-filled children does on a nice night: we went to the park!

At this particular park, we typically park on the street because its parking lot is on another planet.

We played, we swung, we had a mah-velous time.

As the time came to leave, my boys took off running toward the car. My competitive boys were racing because, of course. As they got closer to the car, I realized that while Finn knows well enough to stop at the car and not run into the road, Jonas may not.

The worst case scenario ran quickly through my mind and my 35 1/2 week pregnant body started trying to walk a little bit faster. Let's be honest, I hadn't moved that quickly in weeks.

Before I could trick my body into a full blown trot, a beautiful thing happened.

Jonas fell.

I caught up to him quickly, picked him up, and wiped his tears. As I did these things, I thanked God that my son had fallen.

Because even though he had gotten a little hurt, it could have been so much worse.

He fell in the soft grass when he could have fallen on the harsh and unforgiving pavement of the street. I hate even going there in my mind, but he could have been hit by a car.

He suffered a minor wound and was spared a potentially mortal one. That fall, however unpleasant, was a blessing.

Naturally, it made me think about how God allows negative things into our lives. Because He is all good and all loving, it is vital to see our own falls in the grass as pockets of grace that save us from far worse fates.

These past few months have not been the easiest our family has ever seen. There have been stressors of many kinds: financial, physical, emotional, spiritual. It has been easy to become discouraged and beaten down.

Then I remind myself of Who God is: in His very nature He makes no mistakes and everything that comes from Him is overflowing with love,  and I cannot despise these difficult days.

Last night's fall o'Jonas reminded me that God will often allow soft trips in the grass, if it helps us to avoid death in the street.

He will allow a heartache if it will prevent a mistake that can't be taken back. He will allow a disappointment if it will prevent a lifelong regret. He will allow a failure if it will prevent us from falling away from Him.

When I look at myself and my circumstances, I see some hard stuff. When I look at Him and His goodness, I see only situations that will arise to bring Him glory.

It's A.....(gender reveal)

So you're pregnant with your 3rd baby?

The questions immediately start rolling in, and the most notorious is definitely:

"So, do you have any preference whether it is a boy or a girl?"

I am a terrible liar. Every single thing I feel shows up all over my face, so I don't even bother trying to pull one over on people. I answer:

"I would absolutely love a daughter. I've always wanted a daughter!!"

No shame about coming right out and saying it, no use giving the PC answer. God knows the desires of my heart and I really don't feel badly about stating them out loud.

To be supremely honest, I wanted a daughter when we were pregnant with Finn. I wanted a daughter when we were pregnant with Jonas.

I wanted to buy sweet dresses and bows. I wanted to play Barbies and dolls in lieu of trucks and trains. I wanted a daughter I could be so close with as she grew older and I could walk her through her complicated emotions and absurd hormones. I wanted a daughter that when she's young is content to sit in my lap rather than run around exerting energy like my big boys, and when she's older could sit and have long, deep conversations with me. I am fairly certain that I do not desire to be pregnant again, therefore this is our final chance!!

There were 3 separate people that spoke into us that we were having a girl.

I felt like God laid a name for a daughter on my heart.

Yet......it's a boy!

Let me say 100% honestly up front that as I was looking at that sweet boy today on ultrasound, I felt nothing but complete love for him. I am already aching to hold him in my arms. He is so amazing and I cherish every single kick that I feel him give me.

Even though with Finn and Jonas I began the pregnancy desiring daughters, something always switched in my heart before the ultrasound. I peacefully was ready to hear the ultrasound tech say "It's a boy!" Because of that, there was never a shred of disappointment. In His mercy, He prepared me.

Today was not quite like that. I really expected the opposite report. And we all know how expectations can complicate things!

I write this all as a way of processing...maybe it's a mistake to write it all down when my emotions are so raw. But again, I figure in the days to come it's going to be making it's way around anyway, and there's me with my face that gives my heart away. So I lay it all out here.

The disappointment is real. I don't think that our disappointments surprise God or mar His love for us.

I truly believe He gets it. He understands layers deeper than anything I ever could.

And this is just one day on the journey of 1,000 steps. It may take awhile to work it all out. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:

He knows exactly what we need. He knows exactly what He's doing. He is ever faithful and always so, so good. He loves me and cares about the fact that my heart is a little broken today at what seems like the death of a long-held hope and desire. I can say with absolute certainty that I trust His will; this disappointment is only for a day and I know that one day I will see His absolute gracious provision in blessing us with 3 amazing, astounding boys.

One day. Today is for processing and embracing His perfect plan.

I remember my sophomore year of college when I was dating a guy who I thought was the whole package. When he broke up with me, I remember feeling so devastated and embarrassed that I literally hid out in my dorm room for two days. I was not prepared to talk about it at all, even with my best friend and roommate. It was the end of a hope and desire then, too.

And now, at 13 years past that experience, I wish I could go back and whisper in 20 year old Gretchen's ear: "It's okay. This is more than okay. It is a victory and a gift that this relationship ended. God has so much more ahead for you. Let this hope die and accept and trust the heart of your Father who works all things for good. There is a new hope ahead that will kick this hope's butt. Trust and take His hand!"

I cling to that today as I accept what looks to be the ending of this hope for a daughter. I am letting go of my desires in order to better hold onto what God has ahead for me. Somehow, I think future-Gretchen wishes she could whisper to me of all of the wonderful things that God has on this journey ahead.

Stubborn Choice

So, I wish that I could say that since my last blog, I have been living in total victory over discouragement.

In all actuality, the opposite is probably true. Life has not magically gotten easier. I didn't crack the code of some long kept ancient secret to never being discouraged.

Days are still hard and it is still a daily battle and it truly takes a stubborn choice sometimes to NOT be discouraged.

Over the weekend, I had the most annoying strain of stomach virus. I use the word annoying because it made me feel just sick enough: my body was achy and sick, but my mind was jetting around inside of my head, trying to beckon me to do the enormous list of things I knew needed to be done.

Talk about frustration. I can't turn my brain off and I can't find my body's on switch. I felt helpless and hopeless and just so very, very sad. Maybe a little sorry for myself. It was the 4th time I have been sick during this pregnancy, other than the standard nausea and exhaustion, and I was just so very done.

The last time I remember feeling this way was right after Jonas was born. I was so eager to get up and get moving and conquer the world of mothering two sweet boys.

I just couldn't.

The postpartum period was rough with Jonas because of the physical effects of the labor. While my mind was aching to use my "I'm a mother of TWO" anxiety to get active and prove to everyone (to myself) that I could do this, my body just simply would not cooperate.

I could barely walk. I could barely sit.

I could lay pretty well though, so there's that.

I had to accept others' help, rather than prove to everyone (to myself) that I could successfully mother two boys.

It was frustrating, but it was a phase.

So I try to keep that in mind as I feel like I deal with one sickness after another, one nauseous day after another, one lousy night of sleep after another.

It is frustrating, but it is a phase.

In the midst of dealing with all of these physical symptoms, I am clearly feeling some mental anxiety about having a third child. I am nervous. I don't feel like the natural mothering type and I am very hard on myself and I compare myself to others who do it so much better and I spin myself into circles and then into knots.

I so badly want to be amazing at this but so often do not feel like I am.

I want to prove to everyone (to myself) that I am a good mother.

Then yesterday morning I read it.

"If you're a hard worker and do a good job, you deserve your pay; we don't call your wages a gift. But if you see that the job is too big for you, that it's something only God can do, and you trust him to do it - you could never do it for yourself no matter how hard and long you worked - well, that trusting-him-to-do-it is what gets you set right with God, by God. Sheer gift." Romans 4:4-5 MSG

In that moment, I was blissfully reminded that I cannot do it "all", nor am I expected to.

When mothering feels overwhelming to me and I feel so far less than excellent at it, I remember the help that is at my right hand by calling on God. My Deliverer, my Helper, the God Who sees me.

It honestly brings a sigh of relief to my exhausted body when I bask in the reality of His help. I know it not just as something that I read about in His Word, but as something that is true and lasting and comes right when I need it. I've called out for His help in a moment of despair or confusion and felt the immediate lightening of my problem.

I state here and now that I am not a perfect mother by my own abilities. I am far too often overwhelmed by all that I feel needs to be done and yet underwhelmed by what I feel are my own abilities.

But when I call on God and trust Him to act, I have all the help I will ever need. 

Breathe. Relax. Trust.

A Common Plague

I'm just going to come right out and say it: I've been fighting discouragement.

Discouragement is a common plague, a nearly daily deluge of bad news sent to make us feel that our circumstances are unconquerable, impenetrable, and fantastically beyond our ability to deal.

Lately, my source of discouragement has been parenting. This pregnancy has zapped me of so much energy, that I have to physically fight myself off the couch multiple times a day. I wipe little butts and feed faces and keep everything else fairly picked up, but when it comes to going above and beyond that, it has been a battle. At times, I can almost feel an invisible hand holding me down in my seated (or lying down) position, like a magnet planting me to the couch. This week I've just been down; I was finally getting an iota of energy back, and then I got a cold so I still feel blah and lousy. I just want to feel normal, like myself, again.

I'm tired. And nauseous - I just don't feel good. But I know I do not have it that bad really, so I mentally challenge myself to not complain.

However, in my heart, I feel down and easily discouraged. I hear thoughts prance through my brain:

"Your house is tiny, how is it that hard to keep clean?"
"How will you possibly have energy to take care of another child?"
"You are going to be tired and overwhelmed forever"

We have been talking about discouragement for the past few weeks in the young women's group I lead at our church on Wednesday nights. The unique thing to me about this topic is that, unlike many of the other issues we have discussed (fear, insecurity, shame), this one admittedly affects US ALL.

Let's be honest - it doesn't take much to get discouraged. Sometimes it only takes one small mishap or misstep. Sometimes we get discouraged when we are overwhelmed - we feel like there is no way we can possibly do everything being asked of us. Sometimes we get discouraged when we're bored - we feel like there's no greater purpose or calling for us. Sometimes discouragement comes from being disappointed by other people, and sometimes is materializes from within ourselves.

Discouragement leads us to ask ourselves, "What I'm doing is not working, so what's the point?"

A couple of weeks ago I was pondering discouragement in order to prepare for group. My mind wandered a bit to the human video drama that we had done in church a couple of days before. I thought about several of the really nice comments that I heard from people and was encouraged. But there was a part of me that was a little baffled, because when I create and do human videos, my head tends to tell me, "Gretchen, you're just putting random movements to music. What's so special about that?"

I have acknowledged for years that the movements certainly aren't special because I create them. They are special when, and only when, God works through them.

Without God, they are simple movements. With God, they are anointed and point people to Him.

And it was then that a thought hit me - discouragement occurs when we neglect to factor God into the situation.

When I look at the human videos I have created, it is easy to feel critical and doubtful that they will be any good at all. Even ones that I have done numerous times, I find myself praying for God to use it again, because if He doesn't it will look like a 3rd grader creating a dance to an Amy Grant song (which I maybe used to do).

Likewise, when I feel exhausted and blah and nauseous, it is easy to feel like I will never feel normal again. But when I intentionally look to God, I am able to remember that He has promised to give me the strength I need for each day. I remember that He has blessed this pregnancy and He will give me the grace I need to parent three children. He will meet me where I need Him, every time.

I had kind of a fun exercise looking at places where I get easily discouraged to see if this was true across the board - that discouragement happens when we neglect to factor in God. And sure enough, each of my discouragement triggers were all about my own lack:

 - As a mother, I get discouraged by feeling like I daily fail my boys. But when I factor God in, I am reminded that I am the exact mama that my boys need and though I am far from perfect, I am present and engaged and loving. What I lack in calm demeanor, I make up for with effusive love.

 - As a singer, I get discouraged by feeling like my voice is not strong or controlled enough. But when I factor God in, I am reminded that His glory is all that matters and I have nothing to prove. I am a vessel to display Him, and there's nothing I love more than displaying Him.

 - As a wife, I get discouraged by feeling relationally needy or exhaustedly removed (sometimes at the exact same time!!). But when I factor God in, I am reminded that He has given me everything I need to be a good wife and I just need to be obedient. I need to engage, support, and love my husband well, and that may look different in different seasons. God has also given me a patient husband, who responds so beautifully to me when I am honest about how I am feeling.

These are things to be thankful for and encouraged by, not burdens by which to be brought low.

The list goes on and on, truly. The things that discourage me about being a counselor, or a leader of Bible studies, or a friend.....they all completely transform when I factor in God and His wondrously true promises. If discouragement happens when I am focusing on my lack and everything I don't have to conquer the looming mountains ahead of me, then certainly focusing on the abundance of the Lord corrects my perspective.

There was a sermon I heard awhile ago that centered on the story of David and Goliath. There was one very cool realization from it that has stuck with me still. The Israelite army were utterly discouraged and defeated by the presence of this 9 foot tall giant that was taunting them. They had no will or drive to fight the Philistine beast. But David was different. He did not focus on how big the giant was or how small and young he himself was. He was focused on God. When the giant shouted out his taunts one more time, David shouted back:
"You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied...All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord's and he will give all of you into our hands." - 1 Samuel 17: 45, 47

Though the threats against us loom large and can easily discourage, sometimes we just have to shout back at them about all that God has promised us in His Word. We are more than conquerors indeed (Romans 8:37). You've got to know His Word to speak His words. Read, memorize, and yes, actually speak them out loud!

Finn is getting to the age when he loves picking flowers for me. He recently picked me a bouquet of dandelions - "They're yellow! My favorite!!". I placed them on the counter so I could look at them and let him know how much I appreciated his thoughtfulness. However, the next day, he saw them there and was bewildered when he saw the flowers (weeds?) wilting. He was a little sad about it, so I had to explain that the flowers died because they were plucked from their life source. This was a brilliant illustration to me that all things die when they are plucked from their life source. When we picture a world without God factored in, of course we get discouraged. This world is all kinds of mess. But when we factor Him in, or rather, when we center our lack and our resources around Him, we are connected to the Life Source from which we have everything that we need.

Discouragement is simply writing God out of the equation. So next time you feel discouraged, write Him back in. Even better, write everything else around HIM! Remember that He formed you and loves you and is with you. Speak His promises over your situation and see if you aren't immediately encouraged.

Not For a Moment

I love being a mommy to two boys.

Two sweet, squishy, lovable boys.

The transition from mommy of one to mommy of two was not everything that I pictured it would be.

I knew it would be hard. I was prepared for it to be hard. One consistent thing that I had heard from others is that the transition from one to two is hard.

I kept trying to prepare Matt for it to be hard, but Matt just wouldn't even go there in his mind.

That is why we are married! My realism meets his optimism in a happy, beautiful balancing act.

Yet even though I was prepared for it to be hard, I was not prepared for the right kind of hard.

The hard that I was expecting was actually quite easy. Perhaps I over-prepared myself by dwelling on worst case scenario possibilities. That's definitely been known to happen before :).

These things went easier than I planned:
 - I worried about how Finn would react. However, Finn loves his baby brother and is fascinated by him. He wants to be near him. He is not jealous but is sweet and obedient and eager to please 90% of the time. When he gets excited or revved up......its a different story. He is Matt's son after all! I love him in all of his moods.
 - Since Finn was a fairly easy baby, I was expecting my second one to be tougher. However, Jonas is the definition of content. He sleeps well, nurses well, and only gets fussy when he has a toot or a poop. He is fairly gassy.....he is Matt's son after all! :)
 - I was worried that with family in town that Jonas' entry in the world may be inconvenient or imposing to others. However, having extra family around was a gigantic blessing and it was wonderful getting to share those first few days of Jonas' life with more people.

I am so blessed and grateful that those worst case scenarios did not pan out. Once again, I wasted time mentally preparing for things that did not come to fruition.

However......there was a different kind of hard to deal with that I was not prepared for. There really would have been no way to prepare for it even if I did have some foreboding feeling about it.

First, the good news:
I was able to have a successful VBAC! Jonas cooperated perfectly and all of my labor went smoothly. It was a fun adventure to time my contractions through the night and feel the anticipation build as they became closer together. I am so thankful that I was able to give birth to Jonas that way.

And I am also very thankful for epidurals. Contractions are no joke.

The hard part started at the moment of Jonas' entry into the world. I don't need to paint a picture on here about everything that happened or went wrong.........those who need to know, do.

But there was a series of things that did not go as they should have. The result of that being that I was in quite a bit of pain for the first couple weeks of Jonas' life. The first week it was difficult to sit or move without pain.

Thus......caring for a newborn and a toddler was hard. The hard that I was not expecting.

I had many moments of frustration. I longed to jump into being a mommy of two....I wanted to run around with Finn so that he would know that Mommy still loved him. I wanted to pick up Jonas by myself to nurse him rather than have to have him handed to me. I wanted to dive in and feel like I could tackle everything that I saw looming before me.

I was not able to. I had to sit and wait and allow others to help. I had to *gasp* ask for help.

As frustrating as it was for me to wade slowly into the "mommy of two" waters, I can look back now and see what a blessing it was. It really just feels like everything worked out the way it needed to, pain and all.

Of course it is easy to say that now that the pain is mostly a distant memory. But that's how it works: pain loses its power in time. 

Now that everything has settled in a bit, I have gotten into a new routine and groove with my two boys.

I love my days with them more than I can say and am so thankful for the opportunity to be home with them. This may seem super nerdy, but sometimes I get butterflies of excitement in my stomach at the prospect of spending time with them.....even during middle of the night nursings. These days are precious gifts!

God's gifts can often come as a result of pain.......His faithfulness is always true, not only in the midst of good circumstances.

This song is my latest obsession and gets stuck in my head nearly every day. It applies to this situation in my life and so many others.........I believe it is a song that people need to hear. Peace through the pain, comfort in the storm, love when we are unlovable.....just more gifts from God!

"Not for a Moment (After All)" - Vertical Church Band

Slippery Footing

Sometimes it is hard to find our footing.

That's how I have been feeling lately. It seems as though tragedy abounds around me. I hear about tragic circumstances and situations every day. There are families losing loved ones and people facing suffering on a scale that is nearly impossible to bear.

It is heartbreaking.
It is heart-rending.
It is so easy to get discouraged.

Here in the middle of my internship, I have felt myself hitting an emotional wall. On top of all of the sad situations surrounding my peripheral vision, I feel an utter draining of my inner strength. I can't positive self-talk my way through my days, and the only thing that has been sustaining me is God.

I broke down the other night to Matt and confessed that I am not sure if I could make it through the rest of the semester. I am just so tired. One day ends and another begins and I have no strength to give to it.

Whether I am talking about outer circumstances or inner feelings, sometimes the pain in this world can seem overwhelming.

It is so easy to ask, "Where were you, God? Where are you? Why did you allow it to happen this way?"

The world is dark and broken. Sometimes we get sucked into that before we are even aware.

I look at my son and sometimes envy his ability to be carefree. He runs around with sparkling eyes, interested and fascinated by the world around him. He has arms to run into when he cries and he has faces that smile back at him. He hears "I love you" whispered into his ear on a nearly hourly basis.

He too lives in this dark, broken world but he faces each day with unabashed ferocity and enthusiasm. To Finn, this world is meant to be explored, enjoyed, welcomed with open arms. He has no ability to understand how heavy the world can seem. He has experienced pain and he knows that he does not always get his way, but he does not carry a burden of that pain or disappointment.

He knows he is cared for. He knows his needs will be met. He knows there is good to be discovered.

When the tough questions come fast and hard and we cannot find our footing in day-to-day living, how do we find that childhood simplicity that allows us to release these burdens that weigh us down?

It is a lesson that I am still learning.....but I think that release is the key term in that question.

"Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy-laden and overburdened, and I will cause you to rest (I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls). 

Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am gentle (meek) and humble (lowly) in heart, and you will find rest (relief and ease and refreshment and recreation and blessed quiet) for your souls.

For my yoke is wholesome (useful - good, not harsh, hard, sharp, or pressing, but comfortable, gracious,  and pleasant), and my burden is light and easy to be borne." Matthew 11:28-30 (AMP)

We come and release our load, we run into the open arms when we're crying. We receive rest. We release ourselves into His will, knowing that we are loved beyond our wildest comprehension.

When we lose sight of the wild love of God, we falter and question and doubt His goodness.

Father God, may I keep my eyes fixed upon You and Your love for me. May I not allow the darkness of this world to blind and paralyze me. May Your light shine into this darkness around me and through me.

"When I said, 'My foot is slipping,' Your unfailing love, Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, Your consolation brought me joy." Psalm 94:18-19

Fighting

This past week, Matt and I have gotten sucked into a show on Netflix called "Out of the Wild". There are two different seasons - one in Alaska, one in Venezuela - and we flew through both of them.

The show is essentially about a group of 9 people (different sets for each season) who are dropped in the middle of nowhere with only the tools that they will need for survival. They have no idea how long it will take to reach civilization. They will need to build their own shelters and forage for their own food. There is no prize money at the end, only a giant sense of accomplishment. At any point of the experience, a team member may hit an emergency GPS button that they carry and be rescued via helicopter.

Sounds like a load of fun, right?

Survivalistic shows usually aren't my cup of tea or what floats my boat, so I was surprised that I was so quickly hooked on this show.

I think that what ultimately sucked me in was the psychology of the show. It was fascinating to me to see how people dealt with the challenges thrown their way. Some people met them head on; no matter how little they had to eat or how long it rained, they focused on the positive and kept their eyes on the ultimate goal of reaching civilization. They knew this experience wouldn't last forever and they were determined to deal well with it. They stayed busy with the task at hand. But there were others who would relent at the smallest obstacle; these were the ones who sat around while others fished and worked on the shelters. These were the whiners. These were the GPS pushers.

The battles were waged in the mind, by the way each person viewed their circumstances.

Things got more interesting as the groups moved forward. Foraging for food was not always successful, which meant that they were often starving; the team members who lasted until the end lost a lot of weight. They faced days upon days of rain or cold and snow.

It was intriguing what excuses people gave for pushing their GPS buttons. Some were injured; some were scared for their health; some thought that they had gotten everything out of the experience that they could. One woman, after lasting 28 days, gave up and pushed her button, not knowing that her teammates would reach civilization the very next day.

Bummer.

I received a phone call this week from an old friend asking for prayer. She was sad and frustrated, dealing once more with an issue that has plagued her for awhile now.

When I returned her call, the only thing I felt important to tell her was to just not give up. Keep fighting the battle and know that God is her strength when she is weak. "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." Exodus 14:14

I gave her this verse to encourage her:"God is strong and he wants you strong." Ephesians 6:10 (MSG).

Although I have not gone through the exact same battle as my friend, I know what it is like to face the same obstacle over and over again. I know what it is to get weary in the midst of the fight.

And it is because of that that I empathize with her. I know how tough it is and that sometimes it is impossible to imagine moving forward.

But the only alternative to fighting the battle is to give up. Throw in the towel. Hit the metaphorical GPS button and be helipcoptered away.

At times when the GPS button seems tempting, it is helpful to keep in mind that the only thing required of us is the next step.

The only thing required of us is to not give up.

The people on the show who made it all the way to the end understood that while they had no idea how long the trying journey would be nor how difficult, all that was required of them was the next step. Then the next step. Then the next.

1 Timothy 6:12 (AMP): "Fight the good fight of the faith;"

There was no prize money sitting in a pot at the end of this journey's rainbow. Each person who lasted did so because they always made the decision to keep on fighting.

One guy said at the end, "Quitting wasn't ever an option for me."

I understand the reasons for wanting to press the GPS button. Giving up can seem desirable for a multitude of reasons.

But at the end, I want to be the fighter who does not gives up.

1 Timothy 4:7-8 (MSG): "This is the only race worth running. I've run hard right to the finish, believed all the way. All that's left now is the shouting-God's applause! Depend on it, he's an honest judge. He'll do right not only by me, but by everyone eager for his coming."

Mighty Mountains

I've been on two mountains in my entire life.

I heard a sermon recently that brought me back to both of them.

In the sermon, the pastor told a story about the Swiss Alps. Apparently, large groups of people can climb the Swiss Alps together. There is a chalet of sorts that meets them at the halfway point. The chalet is filled with all things comfortable: warmth, resting places, food and drink. The chalet is so stinkin' comfortable, that on average, about 25% of the group members choose not to proceed to the top of the Alps. They are satisfied with how far they have come, and the comfort has drawn them in and beckoned them to stay.

For awhile, they are content with their decision. But then, while they gaze through binoculars at their fellow group members who are high-fiving at the summit, regret begins to creep in. The realization hits that they have sacrificed their goal for a relatively cheap comfort.

As the group reunites and reaches their collective starting point, it is clear to see by the brightness of their countenance those who reached the summit and those who tarried by comfort's side.

The reason this story struck a chord with me is because it flat out convicted me.

Like I mentioned earlier, I have been on two mountains in my entire life.



The first one was Flat Top, located in Anchorage. Flat Top, true to its name, has a - wait for it - flat top. In the spring and summer months, once the snow has melted away, it is possible to hike all the way to the top without gear.





One day when my mom and stepdad had recently moved there and my brother and I were home for the summer, the four of us decided to "go on a little hike". Or so I thought.

It wasn't long into the "hike" when I realized - I was not cut out for that business. I muttered, I sputtered, I thought constantly of turning around. As we inched our way past tiny pathways and steep climbs, I agonized.

However, to those that I was with, turning around was not an option. They marched forward and by right of my own pride, I followed. It was one of the toughest things, physically, that I have ever done.







But when the four of us sat atop the summit and gazed victoriously over Anchorage, the sense of accomplishment was surreal. My legs might still have shaken the whole way back down and then been sore for days afterwards, but that couldn't take away from the fact that I had done it. I had done it when I literally thought over and over and over that there was no way I could.



The second mountain that I found myself on was Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa. Renowned for its beauty, Table Mountain offers one of the most beautiful views in the world. The higher up you go, the more rewarding the beauty you behold.

There was a whole crew of us visiting Table Mountain, enjoying a day of rest in the midst of a missions trip. You can get about halfway up Table Mountain by hiking or driving, but in order to get to the summit, you have to take a cable car. In order to take the cable car, you have to pay about $10.

Not really that steep of a cost to see such an amazing view.

However, on this particular day, I was tired. I was tired AND I felt poor. I was tired and I felt poor AND I had friends with me that also weren't really desiring to pay the price and take the ride.

About 5 of us opted out that day in order to head back to our hostel and unwind with a good book. At the time it felt like the right decision. But about the time I started seeing everyone else's photos of that day, the regret started to seep in. This is what I missed that day:

 

When I think back about the two mountains that I have been on, I look back on one with joy and a victorious feeling; I look back on the other with regret because I know that I took the easy and comfortable way out.

There are few guarantees in life, but it is almost certain that we will all face metaphorical mountains at various times.

I know I've faced a few.

Comparing my experiences on these two remarkable mountains and applying them to the metaphorical mountains, I see several real life applications.

1. When climbing a mountain - especially one you are unprepared for - it is detrimental to have others alongside you spurring you on. At times, they may need to simply encourage; at other times, they may have to inspire you by climbing themselves. At the worst times, they may need to literally push your butt up the mountain. They are essential to success. 

2. Don't allow a mediocre cost prevent you from a magnificent view. 

3. Comfort is a deceiving distraction from reaching the summit. Do not allow the allure of a cozy lodge or a good book at the hostel sway your goal to climb the mountain. Do the work and stay focused, because there are some regrets for which you won't get a second chance. 

Mountains - realistically and figuratively - are exhausting, gut-wrenching, and testing.

But I understand that the view is more than worth all that trouble.

Wait

What do you do when you get discouraged?

There is a menagerie of ways that I deal with it. Sometimes I pray and read my Bible. Sometimes I dissect it with those I am close with. Sometimes I listen to music. Sometimes I shut myself away and wallow in it.


I have been discouraged this week. I have found myself grappling with an all too familiar problem that I thought was behind me. This week, instead of "taking it like a man", or you know, an adult, I have indulged my human nature and have wallowed. Blame it on laziness or apathy or all out self-pity, I wallowed. I'm a good wallower. My family used to call it pouting. I was the queen of pouting - in order to get my way, nurse my hurt feelings, or to just try to be seen and heard when I wanted to be seen and heard. 


I have spent a lot of energy in my adult life trying to reverse that stigma. I don't want to be a wallowing pouter. Or pouting wallower.  


In my best efforts to seek encouragement this week I have been scouting others' blogs, searching for anything that would edify me and knock me off my perpetual track of wallowing. And I have found a wealth of anecdotes and vessels of wisdom that have uplifted me...momentarily. I truly believe that God can use blogs and the musings of others to help encourage us. It is a relief to know of someone who has had similar experiences, doubts, thoughts. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was piggy-backing on the rewarded insights of someone else's battle. 


There is definitely something that can be learned from the struggles of others, but there is always going to be a piece that is lost in translation. When God reveals something to a person, it speaks directly to that moment in time and is precisely what needed to be heard. You can know when it is whispered by God when a peace descends wholly on what was once troubling. To share that revelation with others is what God desires us to do because it gives Him glory. But if we begin to depend upon the revelations of others and cut them up and piece them back together to match what we are going through, we risk losing some of the original intent. When I seek what God reveals to others instead of God Himself, I cripple myself by accepting leftovers when God desires to offer me a first class meal.


Encouragement and words from others are intended to supplement, not replace, what we hear from God.


So I tell myself to get over my laziness and seek God for myself. I give Him again His proper place at the center of my heart and mind and ask Him what He wants to speak to me today. And then I wait.


I wait because I believe He will speak. I wait because it might not come right away or in the way that I expect it to. I wait because I know it will be exactly what I need - tailored specifically for me and my situation.


I often seek God and ask Him to reveal His ways to me, whether it be His plan for my day or the reasoning for something going on in my life. However, I falter when I "ADHD it" and bee-bop along with my plans, forgetting that I am to be on the lookout for His response.


I acknowledge my discouragement and allow myself to feel its impact; I recognize my wallowing and then choose to denounce it; I ask God to speak and then I wait upon His sovereign timing and believe that He will.


"Living in true beauty can require much waiting, much time, much tenacity of spirit. We must constantly direct our gazes toward the face of God, even in the presence of longing and sorrow. It is in the waiting that our hearts are enlarged. The waiting does not diminish us. As a pregnant woman is enlarged in her waiting, so are our hearts. God does not always rescue us out of a painful season. you know that He does not always give to us what we so desperately want when we want it. He is after something much more valuable than our happiness. Much more substantive than our health. He is restoring and growing in us an eternal weight of glory. And sometimes...it hurts" (Stasi Eldredge, "Captivating")

"God, the Master, The Holy of Israel has this solemn counsel:

Your salvation requires you to turn back to me

and stop your silly efforts to save yourselves.

Your strength will come from settling down

in complete dependence on me -

The very thing you've been unwilling to do.

But God's not finished. He's waiting around to be gracious to you.

He's gathering strength to show mercy to you.

God takes the time to do everything right - everything.

Those who wait around for Him are the lucky ones (Isaiah 30:15, 18 MSG)

Waiting, especially in discouragement, isn't easy. But it's worth it.

"But those who wait on God will receive fresh strength" (Isaiah 40:31 MSG)