We were exactly in the middle of our month long missions trip to South Africa. I, along with a few others, were randomly selected to go and speak at a women's prison just outside of Cape Town. We drove through the imposing gates of the prison and as we walked inside, steel door after steel door closed loudly behind us, locking us into the dreary building.
We started our time with worship. None of us had a guitar or piano, but we had a kickin' boombox and a cd. We got through the first song, no problem. We may have gotten through the second song as well, I cannot remember; the details have gotten a little foggy in the last ten years. Another song started playing; it was "You Raise Me Up", which was at it's peak of popularity.
I will never forget the way that these ladies joined in. Their faces shone with encouragement as they sang the words of this song.
And then, the cd started skipping. Our kickin' boombox was kicking it towards a slow death. I started praying that the song would start working. It was easy to see this song was ministering to these women and I was totally overwhelmed and intimidated at the thoughts of what could happen if we upset them or let them down. I was naive.
The song stopped playing entirely. I looked around the room with frightened eyes for one brief moment until...
the women kept right on singing. They were not going to let a boombox dinosaur ruin the moment that they were having with the song.
The singing filled the room and each face only became more beautiful.
It was a holy moment.
The ladies were in unfortunate circumstances in their lives. Truly, none of them were exactly where they desired to be. They had been met with hardship and mistakes and loneliness. Yet, they kept singing.
It reminds me of King David and his precious Psalms. There are plenty of psalms that were written in the midst of his life's pain. In the persecution, David wrote and sang. In the rejection, David wrote and sang. In his sin and shame, David wrote and sang.
His psalms speak still today that God can be found at the rock bottom of our circumstances. Each melancholy psalm pours forth its pain and then directs its gaze instead on the beauty and sovereignty of the Lord.
David too, kept singing. He let the song in his heart carry him through the storm directly into the presence of God.
Psalm 4: David begins with, "How long, exalted men, will my honor be insulted? How long will you love what is worthless and pursue a lie?" (v 2) and he ends with "You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and new wine abound. I will both lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, Lord, make me live in safety." (vv 7-8)
Psalm 5: David begins, "Listen to my words, Lord; consider my sighing. Pay attention to my cry, my King and my God, for I pray to you." (v 1) and ends, "But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them shout for joy forever. May You shelter them, and may those who love Your name boast about You. For You, Lord, bless the righteous one; You surround him with favor like a shield." ( vv 11-12)
Psalm 6: David begins, "Lord, do not rebuke me in Your anger; do not disciplines me in Your wrath. Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am weak; heal me, Lord, for my bones are shaking; my whole being is shaken with terror. And You, Lord - how long?" (vv 1-3) and he ends with, "The Lord has heard my plea for help; the Lord accepts my prayer." (v 9).
These are just three examples from a single page of Scripture. Each psalm ends in hope. David and the other psalmists poured out their prayers, focused on God's goodness, and found their burdens lifted (except psalm 88, which ends on a painful note. But that's another blog...)
Sometimes the song can speak the words that we cannot.
When we were pregnant with Ezra and had received the report that he may have chromosomal abnormalities, we had to wait until we could follow up on that report. It was a vicious five days of waiting and wondering.
During those moments when the fear tried to choke me, I would sit at our piano and play the only song that would bring me comfort: "Good, Good Father". I would sing through tears streaming down my face and dwell on His goodness. There, sitting at the piano and focused on Him, I could truly accept whatever fate awaited my precious baby.
I kept singing. It was all that I could do.
When your circumstances are not all that you wish they were, keep singing.
When pressures are pushing in at you from every side, keep singing.
When your heart is broken and battered, keep singing.
When anxieties threaten to tear you apart on the inside, keep singing.
When the loneliness is stifling, keep singing.
When you cannot do anything else, keep singing.
In the singing, you will find Him.
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Monday, December 5, 2016
Monday, September 19, 2016
When Life Barks at You
Ezra fell down the stairs yesterday.
I heard him crying as I was changing out of my church clothes and in a moment of panic, wondered if I had forgotten to shut the door to the basement after laying Jonas down for a nap.
Coming around the corner into the kitchen and realizing that the door was indeed open was one of the scariest moments of my life.
I ran. I ran so fast that I don't remember how I reached him. I only remember the way I felt. I picked him up and held him close and checked him all over.
I was shaking and crying and terrified.
He was fine. Truly, I'm not sure how, but he was and is completely fine.
I, on the other hand, remained a mess. I ripped myself apart with thoughts of my incompetency as a mother. I felt like the worst mom in the world, negligent and forgetful and guilty.
The only counselor I ever saw pinpointed me from the very beginning: "You are way too hard on yourself, Gretchen." This was one of those moments. I curled into myself and fixated on my failure.
I felt sick all afternoon. The "what-if's" and "what-could-have-been's" terrorized me. I allowed them to. Logically, I knew that Ezra was okay. I knew that he was safe and healthy and perfectly perfect. Yet I was allowing my thoughts to reek complete havoc on my peace.
Then there came a moment of decision for me. I was watching a video of our worship experience yesterday morning at church. The worship that day was powerful, anointed, and broke some chains off of me. As I re-experienced that moment via video, one of the lyrics jumped out at me: "You rescued me so I could stand and sing, I am a child of God".
Rescue. I knew that God had rescued my boy, again. I knew that with my whole being. I just didn't know why. Then, in that moment, it hit me. God is rescuing Ezra for Himself and some greater purpose that I cannot yet fathom. Something in me just knows it. I don't need to fear losing a boy that God seems intent to rescue.
Even in my failure, I cannot break what God intends to keep whole.
I knew then that I had a choice to make. I could keep ruminating on what could have happened, or what could happen the next time I forget to do something important. I could tie myself up in knots with question after question, the worst case scenarios building a grim future for my life.
Or I could choose to see God's mercy in the situation. I could see His saving hand and pour out my gratitude to Him. I could laugh in wonder at the amazing protection that God has ordered for my precocious Ezra. That was a moment of distinction for me:
Choosing to see God's protection in my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection, and not my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection.
And then thanking Him with all I have.
A couple of nights ago, we were visiting my aunt and uncle who live on a beautiful piece of land in Canton. They have an adorable golden retriever named Jack, who is still quite puppy-like in his behavior. Jack is sweet and energetic and BIG. My boys love dogs, but they are not used to dogs that big. So when Jack bounced around with them, barking, they got scared. They ran. Jack, who thought they were playing, ran after them. This caused terrified screams and cries from their cute little faces.
There was one time in particular that Finn was running from Jack, screaming. Matt called out to him, "Finn! Finn! Just run to me!" Matt knew that if Finn would run to him, then he would be able to protect him. He would handle the dog and keep Finn safe. When Finn kept running farther and faster away, it was difficult for Matt to do anything. He needed Finn close to protect him.
However, Finn couldn't hear his daddy calling. The dog was too close and the barking was too loud. Those teeth were too big and the situation was too scary. So he cried and screamed, powerless to do much else.
This was such a vivid example to me of how God responds to us in the barking chaos of our lives. When circumstances are overwhelming, He calls out to us to come close, to draw near. He wants to enclose us in the shadow of His wing so that He can better protect us. Yet sometimes the noise and the size of our circumstances just drowns out the voice of our Father and Protector. In our fear, we end up running further away from Him Who alone can help us.
Ezra falling down the stairs was life barking at me. Barking at me about my greatest fears and my most intimate failures.
When I drew close through prayer, it was then that God could speak the words that would restore my peace and dismantle my anxiety. I could have spent many days tied up in knots and broken over what almost happened. I know myself enough to know that I could have spiraled into a hole of fear and guilt.
God is speaking. He is always speaking. I choose to stay close to Him so I can hear Him above everything else and so that He can handle the noisy dogs of life for me. Dogs chase and bark, but God draws and whispers. Dogs will demand our attention but God will invite it.
It takes desire and true intention to focus on God over the chaos of our circumstances. But when we do, we will find a Father willing and capable to protect.
I heard him crying as I was changing out of my church clothes and in a moment of panic, wondered if I had forgotten to shut the door to the basement after laying Jonas down for a nap.
Coming around the corner into the kitchen and realizing that the door was indeed open was one of the scariest moments of my life.
I ran. I ran so fast that I don't remember how I reached him. I only remember the way I felt. I picked him up and held him close and checked him all over.
I was shaking and crying and terrified.
He was fine. Truly, I'm not sure how, but he was and is completely fine.
I, on the other hand, remained a mess. I ripped myself apart with thoughts of my incompetency as a mother. I felt like the worst mom in the world, negligent and forgetful and guilty.
The only counselor I ever saw pinpointed me from the very beginning: "You are way too hard on yourself, Gretchen." This was one of those moments. I curled into myself and fixated on my failure.
I felt sick all afternoon. The "what-if's" and "what-could-have-been's" terrorized me. I allowed them to. Logically, I knew that Ezra was okay. I knew that he was safe and healthy and perfectly perfect. Yet I was allowing my thoughts to reek complete havoc on my peace.
Then there came a moment of decision for me. I was watching a video of our worship experience yesterday morning at church. The worship that day was powerful, anointed, and broke some chains off of me. As I re-experienced that moment via video, one of the lyrics jumped out at me: "You rescued me so I could stand and sing, I am a child of God".
Rescue. I knew that God had rescued my boy, again. I knew that with my whole being. I just didn't know why. Then, in that moment, it hit me. God is rescuing Ezra for Himself and some greater purpose that I cannot yet fathom. Something in me just knows it. I don't need to fear losing a boy that God seems intent to rescue.
Even in my failure, I cannot break what God intends to keep whole.
I knew then that I had a choice to make. I could keep ruminating on what could have happened, or what could happen the next time I forget to do something important. I could tie myself up in knots with question after question, the worst case scenarios building a grim future for my life.
Or I could choose to see God's mercy in the situation. I could see His saving hand and pour out my gratitude to Him. I could laugh in wonder at the amazing protection that God has ordered for my precocious Ezra. That was a moment of distinction for me:
Choosing to see God's protection in my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection, and not my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection.
And then thanking Him with all I have.
A couple of nights ago, we were visiting my aunt and uncle who live on a beautiful piece of land in Canton. They have an adorable golden retriever named Jack, who is still quite puppy-like in his behavior. Jack is sweet and energetic and BIG. My boys love dogs, but they are not used to dogs that big. So when Jack bounced around with them, barking, they got scared. They ran. Jack, who thought they were playing, ran after them. This caused terrified screams and cries from their cute little faces.
There was one time in particular that Finn was running from Jack, screaming. Matt called out to him, "Finn! Finn! Just run to me!" Matt knew that if Finn would run to him, then he would be able to protect him. He would handle the dog and keep Finn safe. When Finn kept running farther and faster away, it was difficult for Matt to do anything. He needed Finn close to protect him.
However, Finn couldn't hear his daddy calling. The dog was too close and the barking was too loud. Those teeth were too big and the situation was too scary. So he cried and screamed, powerless to do much else.
This was such a vivid example to me of how God responds to us in the barking chaos of our lives. When circumstances are overwhelming, He calls out to us to come close, to draw near. He wants to enclose us in the shadow of His wing so that He can better protect us. Yet sometimes the noise and the size of our circumstances just drowns out the voice of our Father and Protector. In our fear, we end up running further away from Him Who alone can help us.
Ezra falling down the stairs was life barking at me. Barking at me about my greatest fears and my most intimate failures.
When I drew close through prayer, it was then that God could speak the words that would restore my peace and dismantle my anxiety. I could have spent many days tied up in knots and broken over what almost happened. I know myself enough to know that I could have spiraled into a hole of fear and guilt.
God is speaking. He is always speaking. I choose to stay close to Him so I can hear Him above everything else and so that He can handle the noisy dogs of life for me. Dogs chase and bark, but God draws and whispers. Dogs will demand our attention but God will invite it.
It takes desire and true intention to focus on God over the chaos of our circumstances. But when we do, we will find a Father willing and capable to protect.
Friday, July 15, 2016
Be Still and Start Moving
It has been a tough summer for me. God has been chiseling away at any place in my life where I have sought a safe place, other than Him. Relationships. Health. Ministry. Food. Finances. Relationships (again and again and again).
At times it has felt less like chiseling and more like God was using a machete to hack away whole parts of my safe havens.
And like chiseling (and hacking) tend to be, it's been painful. There have been tears. There have been angry prayers to God. There have been awful emotional reactions. There has been listening, learning, and waiting.
I think, I think, I'm maybe kinda sorta starting to get a bit of the gist of it. Perhaps.
Sometimes answers come immediately. Some take their sweet time, like an old person driving around on a Sunday afternoon.
It is so easy to get frustrated and impatient in the waiting.
"God? Hello? You're still listening, right?"
There are a couple of different ways that I have tried to navigate this chiseling season.
1. Following my own instincts
We visited Matt's parents over Easter. Once I laid the younger boys down for a nap, I seized the opportunity to get some alone time with my oldest. We went "adventuring", which included throwing rocks in the river, walking the trails, and getting a little bit lost. I knew the way back to the house, but Finn wasn't so sure. Yet, since he's a 5 year old boy, he insisted on leading. He led us well, trusting his instincts and his memory. I complimented him at one point on doing a good job and he spoke, in true Finn fashion, "Your Finny is like a superhero. I can sniff the way home. Like a superhero dog."
I let him lead, because he insisted upon it. But I knew the way to our destination; if he got too far off track, I could always take control and redirect. So we meandered a bit, but still reached home. If I had led the way home, we would have gotten there quicker. But 5 year old boys really like to lead the way.
Adults like to lead the way sometimes too. We think we know best, and we don't always like to be told what to do or where to go. We know what we want and we are pretty sure that we know how to get it. So we take off and charge toward the goal line. The good news is that when we belong to God, He watches over our way. When we get too far off course, He resets our steps. In His mercy, He gives us the freedom to make decisions and in His love He helps us stay on the path to our destination.
We sometimes try to sniff our way home, not unlike a superhero dog, and expect God to bless wherever we end up.
Those who follow their instincts will try to look ahead to worst case scenarios and manipulate and control all the variables so things are in their favor. They try to manage all factors.
But there's another way, an arguably quicker way to reach our destination.
2. Follow the Leader
I was paying attention to the band a few weeks ago during worship. I rarely ever do this, so it was eye opening to me. It's no secret that Matt is a free flow in worship kind of guy. Most of the people on the worship team have played with Matt a long time and they know his signals very well. They know when his foot starts thumping, things are only getting started. When he backs away from the mic, keep it rolling and stay where you are. When the head nods, begin the new song. In those moments of free flow they are fully tuned in on him, as the leader, to tell them where to go next in the song. If one of them were to stop paying attention, that one could miss an important cue. Their eyes are on him, and they follow him. They trust his leadership.
Those who follow the leader focus on playing their part well and watching for their leader's cues. They study their leader to know the cues better. It's a sweet mix of watching, waiting, and acting.
One of my favorite verses for a long time was Exodus 14:14: "The Lord is fighting for you. You need only to be still!". I was in a season of transition when I clung to that promise. I would speak it to myself frequently to be encouraged in the face of the unknown.
One thing I didn't do at the time was read and study the surrounding text. In this passage of Scripture, Moses has led the Israelite people to the edge of the Red Sea. They are accosting him and accusing him, desiring to return to the chains of Egypt instead of pursuing the vast unknown. They preferred a safe cage to the arms of God. I would judge them for it, but I'm too busy identifying with them.
Here's what I missed years ago: right after Moses reminded the Israelites that God is fighting for them and to just relax, God responds: "Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to start moving." (v 15).
Er, God, what is it? Be still or start moving?
Both.
The 'being still' has to do with our thoughts and emotions. It stops them before they take over and we act and react to whatever we feel. If it had been up to the Israelites, they would have returned to Egypt and lived in slavery.....out of fear.
The 'start moving' has to do with stepping out in faith, taking the next step that God shows you. If the Israelites had never taken that next step, they would have missed the spectacular experience of God dividing the Red Sea, for their freedom. "Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea. All that night the Lord pushed back the sea with a strong east wind and turned the sea into dry ground. The water divided, and the Israelites went through the middle of the sea on dry ground. The water stood like a wall on their right and on their left." (vv. 21-22).
As we follow God's leading, we need to do our best to stay calm. That doesn't mean never crying or never praying to God in anger. It means rehearsing His faithfulness and the amazing things He's already done for you. It means remembering His goodness and the millions of times He's shown His love to you. It means being aware of His power and promises and the fact that He can change your situation in a moment and WILL change it if and when it needs to be changed. Until then, it's knowing He's got you.
But we also need to keep our feet moving. We cannot sit around and wait, letting our gifts sit idle or others' needs unmet. We keep our eyes on Him for cues, and we walk, knowing He will direct us.
The thing with waiting on God's timing is that it cannot be rushed or manipulated.
But it can absolutely, 100%, all the time, be trusted.
"Protect me, O God, because I take refuge in you. I said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord. Without you, I have nothing good.' Those who lead holy lives on earth are the noble ones who fill me with joy. Those who quickly chase after other gods multiply their sorrows. I will not pour out their sacrificial offerings of blood or use my lips to speak their names. The Lord is my inheritance and my cup. You are the one who determines my destiny. Your boundary lines mark out pleasant places for me. Indeed, my inheritance is something beautiful. I will praise the Lord, who advises me. My conscience warns me at night. I always keep the Lord in front of me. When he is by my side, I cannot be moved. That is why my heart is glad and my soul rejoices. My body rests securely because you do not abandon my soul to the grave or allow your holy one to decay. You make the path of life known to me. Complete joy is in your presence. Pleasures are by your side forever." Psalm 16
At times it has felt less like chiseling and more like God was using a machete to hack away whole parts of my safe havens.
And like chiseling (and hacking) tend to be, it's been painful. There have been tears. There have been angry prayers to God. There have been awful emotional reactions. There has been listening, learning, and waiting.
I think, I think, I'm maybe kinda sorta starting to get a bit of the gist of it. Perhaps.
Sometimes answers come immediately. Some take their sweet time, like an old person driving around on a Sunday afternoon.
It is so easy to get frustrated and impatient in the waiting.
"God? Hello? You're still listening, right?"
There are a couple of different ways that I have tried to navigate this chiseling season.
1. Following my own instincts
We visited Matt's parents over Easter. Once I laid the younger boys down for a nap, I seized the opportunity to get some alone time with my oldest. We went "adventuring", which included throwing rocks in the river, walking the trails, and getting a little bit lost. I knew the way back to the house, but Finn wasn't so sure. Yet, since he's a 5 year old boy, he insisted on leading. He led us well, trusting his instincts and his memory. I complimented him at one point on doing a good job and he spoke, in true Finn fashion, "Your Finny is like a superhero. I can sniff the way home. Like a superhero dog."
Adults like to lead the way sometimes too. We think we know best, and we don't always like to be told what to do or where to go. We know what we want and we are pretty sure that we know how to get it. So we take off and charge toward the goal line. The good news is that when we belong to God, He watches over our way. When we get too far off course, He resets our steps. In His mercy, He gives us the freedom to make decisions and in His love He helps us stay on the path to our destination.
We sometimes try to sniff our way home, not unlike a superhero dog, and expect God to bless wherever we end up.
Those who follow their instincts will try to look ahead to worst case scenarios and manipulate and control all the variables so things are in their favor. They try to manage all factors.
But there's another way, an arguably quicker way to reach our destination.
2. Follow the Leader
I was paying attention to the band a few weeks ago during worship. I rarely ever do this, so it was eye opening to me. It's no secret that Matt is a free flow in worship kind of guy. Most of the people on the worship team have played with Matt a long time and they know his signals very well. They know when his foot starts thumping, things are only getting started. When he backs away from the mic, keep it rolling and stay where you are. When the head nods, begin the new song. In those moments of free flow they are fully tuned in on him, as the leader, to tell them where to go next in the song. If one of them were to stop paying attention, that one could miss an important cue. Their eyes are on him, and they follow him. They trust his leadership.
Those who follow the leader focus on playing their part well and watching for their leader's cues. They study their leader to know the cues better. It's a sweet mix of watching, waiting, and acting.
One of my favorite verses for a long time was Exodus 14:14: "The Lord is fighting for you. You need only to be still!". I was in a season of transition when I clung to that promise. I would speak it to myself frequently to be encouraged in the face of the unknown.
One thing I didn't do at the time was read and study the surrounding text. In this passage of Scripture, Moses has led the Israelite people to the edge of the Red Sea. They are accosting him and accusing him, desiring to return to the chains of Egypt instead of pursuing the vast unknown. They preferred a safe cage to the arms of God. I would judge them for it, but I'm too busy identifying with them.
Here's what I missed years ago: right after Moses reminded the Israelites that God is fighting for them and to just relax, God responds: "Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to start moving." (v 15).
Er, God, what is it? Be still or start moving?
Both.
The 'being still' has to do with our thoughts and emotions. It stops them before they take over and we act and react to whatever we feel. If it had been up to the Israelites, they would have returned to Egypt and lived in slavery.....out of fear.
The 'start moving' has to do with stepping out in faith, taking the next step that God shows you. If the Israelites had never taken that next step, they would have missed the spectacular experience of God dividing the Red Sea, for their freedom. "Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea. All that night the Lord pushed back the sea with a strong east wind and turned the sea into dry ground. The water divided, and the Israelites went through the middle of the sea on dry ground. The water stood like a wall on their right and on their left." (vv. 21-22).
As we follow God's leading, we need to do our best to stay calm. That doesn't mean never crying or never praying to God in anger. It means rehearsing His faithfulness and the amazing things He's already done for you. It means remembering His goodness and the millions of times He's shown His love to you. It means being aware of His power and promises and the fact that He can change your situation in a moment and WILL change it if and when it needs to be changed. Until then, it's knowing He's got you.
But we also need to keep our feet moving. We cannot sit around and wait, letting our gifts sit idle or others' needs unmet. We keep our eyes on Him for cues, and we walk, knowing He will direct us.
The thing with waiting on God's timing is that it cannot be rushed or manipulated.
But it can absolutely, 100%, all the time, be trusted.
"Protect me, O God, because I take refuge in you. I said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord. Without you, I have nothing good.' Those who lead holy lives on earth are the noble ones who fill me with joy. Those who quickly chase after other gods multiply their sorrows. I will not pour out their sacrificial offerings of blood or use my lips to speak their names. The Lord is my inheritance and my cup. You are the one who determines my destiny. Your boundary lines mark out pleasant places for me. Indeed, my inheritance is something beautiful. I will praise the Lord, who advises me. My conscience warns me at night. I always keep the Lord in front of me. When he is by my side, I cannot be moved. That is why my heart is glad and my soul rejoices. My body rests securely because you do not abandon my soul to the grave or allow your holy one to decay. You make the path of life known to me. Complete joy is in your presence. Pleasures are by your side forever." Psalm 16
Monday, March 21, 2016
To the Woman Who is Afraid to Ask for Big Things
To the Woman Who is Afraid to Ask for Big Things,
Maybe it's healing. Maybe it's a relational issue. Maybe it's a financial miracle.
I understand. I've been there too, hesitant and timid. I know what it is like to wait and wait and wait some more, refusing to ask because I was not sure that what I wanted would ever happen for me.
I also know what is it is like to be so incredibly sick of waiting that I would try to seize control for myself, most often with disastrous results.
All the while, I was refusing to ask for what I really wanted.
So I would endlessly wait. And I would needlessly control.
It felt safer than asking. It felt easier. I could handle waiting and I could handle pseudo-control, but there were many reasons that I felt I could not ask God for a miraculous movement.
At various times:
I have felt invisible and unseen by God and man.
I have felt like I don't have anything to offer in return.
I have felt like my request would probably just get rejected anyway, because rejection was the norm.
I have felt let down and disappointed by God.
I have felt like too much and yet not enough at the same time.
I have felt afraid to draw attention to myself.
I have felt bound.
If you're afraid to ask for big things from God, perhaps you identify with one or more of those reasons? I wonder if you were reading those through and one of them shot through your heart like an arrow?
Ugh, my friend, I understand. The frustration and the anxiety and the tension, I get it. I wish I could see you face to face and laser shoot hope from my eyes to yours. I'm not very touchy feely, but I wish I could give you a hug and before I let you go I would shake you a little in order to snap you out of it.
I wish I could tell you to your face that even when it feels impossible or improbable or a total waste of time, I greatly encourage you to ask.
Can I tell you why?
The Bible is full of women who were afraid to ask much of Jesus. And yet they received what they really needed.
* If you feel invisible and unseen, I would point out the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15:21-28.
She was pointedly ignored by Jesus, but a fighter spirit arose within her and she debated with the Son of God. This did not annoy Jesus but impressed him: "Woman, your faith is great. Let it be done for you as you want." (v28). Please know that God is the The God Who Sees (Genesis 16:11-15). When you feel pushed aside and unimportant, He sees you and He knows you. He loves you.
*If you feel like you have nothing to offer, I would direct you to the poor widow in Luke 21:1-4.
She did not have much, but what she did have was highly honored. What you have may not have high esteem with man, but when it is surrendered to Jesus, it can be multiplied and empowered beyond anything you could dream. You just have to bring what's in your hand.
*If you expect rejection, I would show you the woman at the well in John 4:4-26.
In cultural terms, Jesus surely shouldn't have bothered with her, as they had opposing religious backgrounds. In social terms, a great rabbi should not concern himself with a woman with questionable morals. Even Christ's disciples wondered why he was speaking with her. But he engaged her and pursued conversation and invited her despite every reason not to. God doesn't see all the reasons not to bother with you. He looks at you and sees possibility.
*If you've felt let down by Jesus before, I would ask you to read about Mary and Martha in John 11:17-43.
These women were close friends with Jesus. They trusted him and expected great things from him. But he didn't move the way they expected. He moved in a way that caused them great grief and pain. They had no way to know how miraculously God was about to move, but in order to do so, he needed to allow the wounding first. He still heard their cry and he still moved in their pain, but it had to be in a way that would more greatly display his power.
*If you are afraid to draw attention to yourself, I would direct you to the sick woman in Luke 8:42-49.
She desperately needed a divine touch, but was lost in crowd. She knew if she could just get close enough to him, that healing was available. She had great expectation for what he could do, but had little opportunity to ask for it. This woman had struggled for years with an ailment that isolated her. She was used to managing on her own, and when she had put her faith in others they had fallen woefully short of the help they promised. Yet when she reached out to Jesus, she was healed. Not only was she healed, she also found belonging, as the Son of God called her "Daughter."
*If you feel bound, I would want you to read about the crippled woman in Luke 13:10-17.
She was bound so severely that she stood out in the crowd. She was different, her daily life drastically affected and setting her apart. Jesus recognized what was keeping her crippled. He called it out and untied her from her bondage in a moment. The text doesn't even say that this woman showed up to hear Jesus teach that day. We don't know if she even knew who he was. He healed her because he desired freedom for her. He used a woman cast aside and discarded to display his glory.
*Lastly, if you feel like too much yet not enough, you are my soul sister. I have felt that way for so much of my life. I would beg you to read about the sinful woman who anoints Jesus in Luke 7:36-46.
This woman comes to Jesus broken and ashamed. She knows the gravity of her sins and how they have weighed her down. She knows how short she has fallen. But she trusts that Jesus does what he said he could do. Forgive. As she weeps at his feet, the exhibition of her adoration baffles the others in the room. She's too much for them, and they don't understand why Jesus is even letting her touch him. In his marvelous mercy, he defends and protects this woman. In the presence of many, he forgives her and sends her in peace, honoring how much she loved him. The woman who was not enough yet too much had just ministered to the Son of God. What she could not do for herself, she allowed God to do for her when she had a revelation of His goodness and mercy.
Each of these women, ignored, poor, rejected, let down, broken, crippled, sinners.
The one thing they all have in common is that they needed something from Jesus. They asked in a variety of ways, and they received in a variety of ways.
But indeed they received exactly what they needed, because they came to the One "who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us" (Ephesians 3:20).
I am slowly learning that when I neglect to ask God for big things, I rob Him of the opportunity to be glorified. The only reason any of us are even here on earth is to give Him glory.
So to the woman who hesitates to ask of God, please learn from my mistakes. I encourage you: don't let prayer be your last resort. Allow prayer to be the very first step you take in your time of need.
Speak. Ask. Expect.
Give God the invitation into your situation and watch Him change the unchangeable in your life.
You can't be so invisible, that He doesn't see you.
You can't be so poor, that He can't use you.
You can't feel so rejected, that He doesn't love you enough for 1,000 who didn't.
You can't be so disappointed, that he won't redeem the situation.
You can't be so timid, that He doesn't know exactly what you need.
You can't be so bound, that He cannot absolutely free you.
You can't be too much for Him, that He doesn't delight in your love.
Maybe it's healing. Maybe it's a relational issue. Maybe it's a financial miracle.
I understand. I've been there too, hesitant and timid. I know what it is like to wait and wait and wait some more, refusing to ask because I was not sure that what I wanted would ever happen for me.
I also know what is it is like to be so incredibly sick of waiting that I would try to seize control for myself, most often with disastrous results.
All the while, I was refusing to ask for what I really wanted.
So I would endlessly wait. And I would needlessly control.
It felt safer than asking. It felt easier. I could handle waiting and I could handle pseudo-control, but there were many reasons that I felt I could not ask God for a miraculous movement.
At various times:
I have felt invisible and unseen by God and man.
I have felt like I don't have anything to offer in return.
I have felt like my request would probably just get rejected anyway, because rejection was the norm.
I have felt let down and disappointed by God.
I have felt like too much and yet not enough at the same time.
I have felt afraid to draw attention to myself.
I have felt bound.
If you're afraid to ask for big things from God, perhaps you identify with one or more of those reasons? I wonder if you were reading those through and one of them shot through your heart like an arrow?
Ugh, my friend, I understand. The frustration and the anxiety and the tension, I get it. I wish I could see you face to face and laser shoot hope from my eyes to yours. I'm not very touchy feely, but I wish I could give you a hug and before I let you go I would shake you a little in order to snap you out of it.
I wish I could tell you to your face that even when it feels impossible or improbable or a total waste of time, I greatly encourage you to ask.
Can I tell you why?
The Bible is full of women who were afraid to ask much of Jesus. And yet they received what they really needed.
* If you feel invisible and unseen, I would point out the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15:21-28.
She was pointedly ignored by Jesus, but a fighter spirit arose within her and she debated with the Son of God. This did not annoy Jesus but impressed him: "Woman, your faith is great. Let it be done for you as you want." (v28). Please know that God is the The God Who Sees (Genesis 16:11-15). When you feel pushed aside and unimportant, He sees you and He knows you. He loves you.
*If you feel like you have nothing to offer, I would direct you to the poor widow in Luke 21:1-4.
She did not have much, but what she did have was highly honored. What you have may not have high esteem with man, but when it is surrendered to Jesus, it can be multiplied and empowered beyond anything you could dream. You just have to bring what's in your hand.
*If you expect rejection, I would show you the woman at the well in John 4:4-26.
In cultural terms, Jesus surely shouldn't have bothered with her, as they had opposing religious backgrounds. In social terms, a great rabbi should not concern himself with a woman with questionable morals. Even Christ's disciples wondered why he was speaking with her. But he engaged her and pursued conversation and invited her despite every reason not to. God doesn't see all the reasons not to bother with you. He looks at you and sees possibility.
*If you've felt let down by Jesus before, I would ask you to read about Mary and Martha in John 11:17-43.
These women were close friends with Jesus. They trusted him and expected great things from him. But he didn't move the way they expected. He moved in a way that caused them great grief and pain. They had no way to know how miraculously God was about to move, but in order to do so, he needed to allow the wounding first. He still heard their cry and he still moved in their pain, but it had to be in a way that would more greatly display his power.
*If you are afraid to draw attention to yourself, I would direct you to the sick woman in Luke 8:42-49.
She desperately needed a divine touch, but was lost in crowd. She knew if she could just get close enough to him, that healing was available. She had great expectation for what he could do, but had little opportunity to ask for it. This woman had struggled for years with an ailment that isolated her. She was used to managing on her own, and when she had put her faith in others they had fallen woefully short of the help they promised. Yet when she reached out to Jesus, she was healed. Not only was she healed, she also found belonging, as the Son of God called her "Daughter."
*If you feel bound, I would want you to read about the crippled woman in Luke 13:10-17.
She was bound so severely that she stood out in the crowd. She was different, her daily life drastically affected and setting her apart. Jesus recognized what was keeping her crippled. He called it out and untied her from her bondage in a moment. The text doesn't even say that this woman showed up to hear Jesus teach that day. We don't know if she even knew who he was. He healed her because he desired freedom for her. He used a woman cast aside and discarded to display his glory.
*Lastly, if you feel like too much yet not enough, you are my soul sister. I have felt that way for so much of my life. I would beg you to read about the sinful woman who anoints Jesus in Luke 7:36-46.
This woman comes to Jesus broken and ashamed. She knows the gravity of her sins and how they have weighed her down. She knows how short she has fallen. But she trusts that Jesus does what he said he could do. Forgive. As she weeps at his feet, the exhibition of her adoration baffles the others in the room. She's too much for them, and they don't understand why Jesus is even letting her touch him. In his marvelous mercy, he defends and protects this woman. In the presence of many, he forgives her and sends her in peace, honoring how much she loved him. The woman who was not enough yet too much had just ministered to the Son of God. What she could not do for herself, she allowed God to do for her when she had a revelation of His goodness and mercy.
The one thing they all have in common is that they needed something from Jesus. They asked in a variety of ways, and they received in a variety of ways.
But indeed they received exactly what they needed, because they came to the One "who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us" (Ephesians 3:20).
I am slowly learning that when I neglect to ask God for big things, I rob Him of the opportunity to be glorified. The only reason any of us are even here on earth is to give Him glory.
So to the woman who hesitates to ask of God, please learn from my mistakes. I encourage you: don't let prayer be your last resort. Allow prayer to be the very first step you take in your time of need.
Speak. Ask. Expect.
Give God the invitation into your situation and watch Him change the unchangeable in your life.
You can't be so invisible, that He doesn't see you.
You can't be so poor, that He can't use you.
You can't feel so rejected, that He doesn't love you enough for 1,000 who didn't.
You can't be so disappointed, that he won't redeem the situation.
You can't be so timid, that He doesn't know exactly what you need.
You can't be so bound, that He cannot absolutely free you.
You can't be too much for Him, that He doesn't delight in your love.
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Martha, Martha
Growing up, whenever I was about to get in trouble, my mom would always begin with, "Say, I've got a question..." Upon hearing those words, I would brace myself that she had discovered some dastardly deed of mine and a grounding was imminent.
"Say I've got a question...do you know what happened to the basement window?"
"Say I've got a question...where did all the Nutter Butters go?"
"Say I've got a question...why are there still dirty dishes in the sink?"
I would brace myself for the words that would follow. To this day, she'll say those words and I will tense up for whatever she's about to speak.
When I live constantly bracing myself for potential problems, I am in a near constant state of tension which also means a lack of rest, a lack of peace, a lack of stillness. I am missing out on the full benefits that are promised to me as a child of God. I am missing out on the joy and freedom and peace that are mine, because I am His.
Whenever anxiety is swirling around in my mind and my thoughts are jumping all over the place to things that are not going well or situations where trouble may arise, this Bible story pops into my head:
Sometimes all I need to hear internally in my flurry of activity is "Martha, Martha," and instantly I picture the difference between Martha and Mary. Martha, trying to do good, important work but with a wrong focus. Mary, a picture of stillness and peace at the feet of Jesus. The contrast is stark. Both are women that Jesus loves very much, but only one has her eyes set on him above all else. Only one is experiencing the rest of His presence.
Period.
Unknowns will remain...always. There will always be chaos, or potential chaos, at every corner of life. There will rarely NOT be a reason to be worried.
The only way to live in a state of rest is to continue to throw my trust on Him, however many times a day it takes.
In my experience, the areas of my life where I am feeling anxious are the areas of my life that I am not fully surrendering to God. They are areas that, for whatever reason, are hard to give up.
At various times, those areas have included finances, my love life, my children's health, my relationships with friends or family members; the list goes on and on.
I can live in stillness and rest only where I am ready to embrace...whatever.
So here is what I am working on:
Instead of bracing myself for the worst, I am embracing whatever God brings.
The rest that flows from that place of surrender is complete and immediate. It's trusting God not only in my heart and mind, but with my actions. It's prying my fingers off any areas of concern, and resting in the TRUTH that He is in control and He loves me.
He is in control. And He loves me.
Both beliefs are essential in order for my mind to be at rest.
"Say I've got a question...do you know what happened to the basement window?"
"Say I've got a question...where did all the Nutter Butters go?"
"Say I've got a question...why are there still dirty dishes in the sink?"
I would brace myself for the words that would follow. To this day, she'll say those words and I will tense up for whatever she's about to speak.
Being a person prone to anxious feelings, I have spent a good portion of my life bracing myself for bad news and expecting worst case scenarios to play out. I want to be ready for anything, but in preparing myself for the worst, there is much that I miss out on.
When I live constantly bracing myself for potential problems, I am in a near constant state of tension which also means a lack of rest, a lack of peace, a lack of stillness. I am missing out on the full benefits that are promised to me as a child of God. I am missing out on the joy and freedom and peace that are mine, because I am His.
Whenever anxiety is swirling around in my mind and my thoughts are jumping all over the place to things that are not going well or situations where trouble may arise, this Bible story pops into my head:
"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, 'Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!'
'Martha, Martha,' the Lord answered, 'you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed-or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.'" (Luke 10:38-42, NIV).
Sometimes all I need to hear internally in my flurry of activity is "Martha, Martha," and instantly I picture the difference between Martha and Mary. Martha, trying to do good, important work but with a wrong focus. Mary, a picture of stillness and peace at the feet of Jesus. The contrast is stark. Both are women that Jesus loves very much, but only one has her eyes set on him above all else. Only one is experiencing the rest of His presence.
"The Lord's people must trust Him to sustain and provide for their needs...resting is trusting in action." - Lauren Chandler
I read this quote a couple of weeks ago and it was a direct hit to my heart. If I trust God, and I do, then whatever He brings into my life and allows for me is what is best.
Period.
Unknowns will remain...always. There will always be chaos, or potential chaos, at every corner of life. There will rarely NOT be a reason to be worried.
The only way to live in a state of rest is to continue to throw my trust on Him, however many times a day it takes.
In my experience, the areas of my life where I am feeling anxious are the areas of my life that I am not fully surrendering to God. They are areas that, for whatever reason, are hard to give up.
"What you fear the most reveals where you trust God the least" - Craig Groeschel
At various times, those areas have included finances, my love life, my children's health, my relationships with friends or family members; the list goes on and on.
I can live in stillness and rest only where I am ready to embrace...whatever.
So here is what I am working on:
Instead of bracing myself for the worst, I am embracing whatever God brings.
The rest that flows from that place of surrender is complete and immediate. It's trusting God not only in my heart and mind, but with my actions. It's prying my fingers off any areas of concern, and resting in the TRUTH that He is in control and He loves me.
He is in control. And He loves me.
Both beliefs are essential in order for my mind to be at rest.
"God will only give you what you would have asked for if you knew everything He knows." - Timothy Keller
Stop bracing for the worst. Start embracing God's best.
Because with God, it's always His best. Truly.
The more I know Him, the more I experience His goodness and mercy to me, and the more I realize how absolutely worthy He is of being trusted.
Because with God, it's always His best. Truly.
The more I know Him, the more I experience His goodness and mercy to me, and the more I realize how absolutely worthy He is of being trusted.
"I don't know where I'm going, more and more each day; it's becoming more alright with me. Because when I know where I'm going my eyes keep me from trusting Thee" - Jason Upton
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
The Anxiety Monster and Singing
When I decided to start a blog 4+ years ago, I wasn't really sure what I was going to write about every time. It ended up normally including some sort of parenting lesson I was learning courtesy of Finn, or commemorating some special event or memory in my life. It kept my love for writing alive.
I never thought that I could write about parenting techniques, because I certainly don't feel like an expert.
I never thought I could write about fashion or makeup, because I'm so not on the cusp of it.
I never thought I could write about tv shows or entertainment, because it feels kind of empty and fruitless.
I never thought I could write about fitness tips or tricks, because come on, let's get serious.
I didn't have any knowledge that could help a reader out.
So I just kind of wrote about our lives, and my personal experiences. I wrote about God nearly every time, because He's intensely personal to me.
Writing helps me process the chaos in my mind, and I guess I share it because truly, I hope others can identify and get something out of what I've walked through. Let's all just be messes together, am I right?
One of the biggest insecurities I have about putting our lives out there is, "Gretchen, do you really think people care? How many stories can you tell about yourself, really? Are you that self-involved that you can't talk about anything else?" The voices of insecurity play on inside my head.
But really, I write about my stories because my personal experience is the only thing I feel like I am an expert at.
However, the other night, I was with my best friend and we got on the topic of how we often go through hard times so that we are able to better help others through similar circumstances (2 Corinthians 1). I shared with her how I've been able to help many of our young adult women through anxiety because it's a monster in my life that I've had to learn to conquer. I've been able to use my personal experience with it to teach others about walking through it in the strength of God.
I said to Chanelle, "I could probably just keep a blog all about anxiety and how to deal with it on a daily basis."
I've dealt with anxiety so much that sometimes I feel like an expert at it.
For the past year and a half or so, my anxiety has flared up every time I am to sing in public. Now, I've always been a little nervous to sing in front of people, but that was just the shy girl in me. Since last February, however, it has been a much more intense, sometimes debilitating fear. So debilitating in fact, that I have been tempted to walk away from it entirely: "Maybe God just never meant for me to be a singer and I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not".
I've never counted myself as the best singer in any room, especially any room that my husband is in, but it is something I have genuinely loved all my life. I come alive when I hear music. I have music going constantly at home. Even when it's silent I'm usually singing whatever song is stuck in my head at that moment. I love to connect to God through music; I love looking at Him through lyrics and singing them, meaning every word with all my heart. I feel His presence in those moments.
But I had allowed the joy of singing to be stolen from me by giving anxiety a foothold - again - in my mind. Every time I was to sing in public, I became petrified that my voice was going to give out on me. I consistently thought that my throat felt scratchy and agitated. For days before singing, I would avoid talking on the phone, having long conversations with my husband, and even reading books to my boys in order to "save" my voice. It began to take over my life on those days.
Nobody has ever argued that anxiety is always rational, after all.
When I realized that I had allowed something I loved very much to be tarnished by anxiety, I began to get angry. It has been my experience that anger can be a healthy antidote to anxiety. It shows a fighting spirit and an unwillingness to back down to the bully that is anxiety.
Anxiety has to be fought. It will not go away on it's own. The more leeway it is given, the more it takes over. One has to be more stubborn than it - choosing over and over again, 100 times a day if needed - to focus on faith more than fear.
I'm still not totally over this particular battle. It continues to be a mental boxing match, but oh, the strides that have been taken. After all, sometimes battles are won slowly.
Each time I get up and sing even when I'm afraid, I put one more nail in the coffin of anxiety.
I now refuse to stifle my voice in the days beforehand, choosing to believe that God will use my voice as long as it's offered, and whether it's tired or not.
This whole singing ordeal has been one more ride on the anxiety carousel for me. Although it has been suffocating and frustrating and humiliating to the point that I only spoke of it with those closest to me, it has taught me more about the anxiety monster and more about the faithfulness of God. I wouldn't trade that for anything.
This past weekend I was leading a song for worship and began feeling anxious as soon as my husband told me on Wednesday evening. Thursday I happened to read this: "Do not be afraid any longer, only believe." (Mark 5:36).
That's God's grace, right there. I repeated that verse to myself over and over again during the next few days. I acted on it, willing myself away from anxious thoughts and focusing on belief. It carried me up to the moment I opened my mouth to sing.
Showing up afraid and singing anyway helps me to defeat the anxiety monster.
I can give you names of sermons I've listened to and books I've read and and verses I've memorized and songs I've heard that have helped me immensely against anxiety.
But, truly, the greatest weapon that I have found in defeating it totally lies in one thing: trusting that God loves me.
When I trust that God loves me, I am able to surrender to whatever His plans are for me.
When I trust that God loves me, I can relax in His ability to care for me.
When I trust that God loves me, I know He works all things - even hard things - for good.
When I trust that God loves me, I honor Him.
Nothing, truly, matters more than that.
I never thought that I could write about parenting techniques, because I certainly don't feel like an expert.
I never thought I could write about fashion or makeup, because I'm so not on the cusp of it.
I never thought I could write about tv shows or entertainment, because it feels kind of empty and fruitless.
I never thought I could write about fitness tips or tricks, because come on, let's get serious.
I didn't have any knowledge that could help a reader out.
So I just kind of wrote about our lives, and my personal experiences. I wrote about God nearly every time, because He's intensely personal to me.
Writing helps me process the chaos in my mind, and I guess I share it because truly, I hope others can identify and get something out of what I've walked through. Let's all just be messes together, am I right?
One of the biggest insecurities I have about putting our lives out there is, "Gretchen, do you really think people care? How many stories can you tell about yourself, really? Are you that self-involved that you can't talk about anything else?" The voices of insecurity play on inside my head.
But really, I write about my stories because my personal experience is the only thing I feel like I am an expert at.
However, the other night, I was with my best friend and we got on the topic of how we often go through hard times so that we are able to better help others through similar circumstances (2 Corinthians 1). I shared with her how I've been able to help many of our young adult women through anxiety because it's a monster in my life that I've had to learn to conquer. I've been able to use my personal experience with it to teach others about walking through it in the strength of God.
I said to Chanelle, "I could probably just keep a blog all about anxiety and how to deal with it on a daily basis."
I've dealt with anxiety so much that sometimes I feel like an expert at it.
For the past year and a half or so, my anxiety has flared up every time I am to sing in public. Now, I've always been a little nervous to sing in front of people, but that was just the shy girl in me. Since last February, however, it has been a much more intense, sometimes debilitating fear. So debilitating in fact, that I have been tempted to walk away from it entirely: "Maybe God just never meant for me to be a singer and I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not".
I've never counted myself as the best singer in any room, especially any room that my husband is in, but it is something I have genuinely loved all my life. I come alive when I hear music. I have music going constantly at home. Even when it's silent I'm usually singing whatever song is stuck in my head at that moment. I love to connect to God through music; I love looking at Him through lyrics and singing them, meaning every word with all my heart. I feel His presence in those moments.
But I had allowed the joy of singing to be stolen from me by giving anxiety a foothold - again - in my mind. Every time I was to sing in public, I became petrified that my voice was going to give out on me. I consistently thought that my throat felt scratchy and agitated. For days before singing, I would avoid talking on the phone, having long conversations with my husband, and even reading books to my boys in order to "save" my voice. It began to take over my life on those days.
Nobody has ever argued that anxiety is always rational, after all.
When I realized that I had allowed something I loved very much to be tarnished by anxiety, I began to get angry. It has been my experience that anger can be a healthy antidote to anxiety. It shows a fighting spirit and an unwillingness to back down to the bully that is anxiety.
Anxiety has to be fought. It will not go away on it's own. The more leeway it is given, the more it takes over. One has to be more stubborn than it - choosing over and over again, 100 times a day if needed - to focus on faith more than fear.
I'm still not totally over this particular battle. It continues to be a mental boxing match, but oh, the strides that have been taken. After all, sometimes battles are won slowly.
Each time I get up and sing even when I'm afraid, I put one more nail in the coffin of anxiety.
I now refuse to stifle my voice in the days beforehand, choosing to believe that God will use my voice as long as it's offered, and whether it's tired or not.
This whole singing ordeal has been one more ride on the anxiety carousel for me. Although it has been suffocating and frustrating and humiliating to the point that I only spoke of it with those closest to me, it has taught me more about the anxiety monster and more about the faithfulness of God. I wouldn't trade that for anything.
This past weekend I was leading a song for worship and began feeling anxious as soon as my husband told me on Wednesday evening. Thursday I happened to read this: "Do not be afraid any longer, only believe." (Mark 5:36).
That's God's grace, right there. I repeated that verse to myself over and over again during the next few days. I acted on it, willing myself away from anxious thoughts and focusing on belief. It carried me up to the moment I opened my mouth to sing.
Showing up afraid and singing anyway helps me to defeat the anxiety monster.
I can give you names of sermons I've listened to and books I've read and and verses I've memorized and songs I've heard that have helped me immensely against anxiety.
But, truly, the greatest weapon that I have found in defeating it totally lies in one thing: trusting that God loves me.
When I trust that God loves me, I am able to surrender to whatever His plans are for me.
When I trust that God loves me, I can relax in His ability to care for me.
When I trust that God loves me, I know He works all things - even hard things - for good.
When I trust that God loves me, I honor Him.
Nothing, truly, matters more than that.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Fear and Ice Cream
If there was one thing that I could wish for my boys to absolutely not to inherit from my gene pool, it would be my tendency towards anxiety and fear.
I can say, with relative certainty, that Finn inherited my olive skin tone, my stumpy legs, my sensitivity, my timidity......and my fear.
He is a typical first-born in many ways: he likes to be in charge, he benefits greatly from a strong schedule, and he likes to know everything that is going on - at all times.
What that looks like lately is that he asks questions when a situation is new to him. Lots and lots of questions.
Where are we going?
Why are we going?
What are we doing?
Who will be there?
Will you stay with me?
What do they have there?
He is a kid that likes to be prepared. He prefers to have knowledge of what he is walking into.
My mom tells me that I was much the same way. Before she would take me somewhere, she would prep me with all of the details so that it would lessen my anxieties. For example, when we would go to the doctor she would say something along the lines of,
I can say, with relative certainty, that Finn inherited my olive skin tone, my stumpy legs, my sensitivity, my timidity......and my fear.
He is a typical first-born in many ways: he likes to be in charge, he benefits greatly from a strong schedule, and he likes to know everything that is going on - at all times.
What that looks like lately is that he asks questions when a situation is new to him. Lots and lots of questions.
Where are we going?
Why are we going?
What are we doing?
Who will be there?
Will you stay with me?
What do they have there?
He is a kid that likes to be prepared. He prefers to have knowledge of what he is walking into.
My mom tells me that I was much the same way. Before she would take me somewhere, she would prep me with all of the details so that it would lessen my anxieties. For example, when we would go to the doctor she would say something along the lines of,
"We will walk in to the waiting room and will wait there for a few minutes until they call our names. When they call our names, they will lead us back to the doctor's office where they will weigh you and check your height. The doctor will use a really cool tool to hear your heartbeat. Then it will be time for a nurse to come in and give you a shot. It will hurt for a second, but the pain will be over with quickly. I will be with you the whole time, and then we can get ice cream."
I found such comfort in knowing each step. When it was laid out all in front of me like that, it felt manageable and something that I could undertake. My anxieties would lessen.
That is the kind of inherited fear I see in Finn - an anxiousness that lessons when one feels prepared and feels like he can manage whatever he is about to face.
So yes, some fear is inherited.
But I am learning the older my big boy gets, that some fear is also learned.
He can latch onto fears simply by watching the way that I act and react to the world around me.
For example, I have a big old nasty fear of spiders. They are gross, they are ugly, and they have 8 spindly legs that they use to haunt my dreams. Don't even get me started on the webs they are able to create. Sticky, stretchy, yuck.
Finn knows well my fear of spiders. It used to be that when we would play in our basement, where the spiders feel extra homey, I would screech at the sight of one and he would hop up and kill it for me with toilet paper. "My HERO!" I would exclaim.
But there came a day a few months ago when all of a sudden Finn didn't want to kill the spider. He, too, wanted to run from it and stare at it in disgust, wishing it would drop dead from a evil glare. He began to shake his head and cower in the corner at the suggestion that he kill it.
From curiosity and zero fear to cowering in a corner; I can only surmise that he learned this by watching his mommy.
- Fear as a personality trait can be inherited. This includes a certain tendency toward timidity and a fondness for being in control. When my mom would give me that speech before we ventured out, she was helping me to trust myself that I could handle what lay ahead. I do the same thing with Finn so that I can prepare him and cut way down on the chances that he might have a meltdown when he feels overwhelmed. This is a natural proactive parenting response.
However, God does not treat us in the same way. He does not wish for us to trust ourselves, but leaves us in the dark about so much that lies ahead so that we may trust in Him. He does not lay out a step by step plan for us to take, but guides us one foot in front of the other. He does not give speeches like my mom gave, save for one line: "I will be with you the whole time" (Deuteronomy 31:8). This alone is to be enough to quell our fears of the unknown future. We are never left alone or unloved.
- Fear as a behavior can be learned. Our kids learn so much from watching us, maybe too much sometimes. They learn how to treat others, how to react in certain situations, how to spend their free time, and how to work through the chaotic world of emotions. What do you do when you are angry, or sad, or overwhelmed, or fearful? That will often be the first thing your child tries when he or she feels something similar. It honestly scares the bejeebers out of me that my boys are learning so much from me, because I know how short I fall in so many areas. I wish I could send them to my sister's house for two weeks and say, "Watch her instead. That's how it should be done." Behaviors are learned. Therefore, behaviors can also be un-learned and re-taught.
I don't want my boy to prefer cowering in a corner, so I am going to try my hardest to squash the next spider I see as quickly as possible and with the biggest wad of toilet paper I can get - even if it kills me (and it just might).
We don't have control over what our children inherit from us, but we can do something about the behaviors that they learn from us.
I can teach my son that faith stands up to fear, be it a new situation or a nasty spider. The best way I can teach him is by showing him how.
And that even though I can't prepare him for every little thing he might face, there is One that is always with him.
Also, if he's been a good boy, there can be ice cream afterwards (because Mommy will probably be wanting it too)!
I can teach my son that faith stands up to fear, be it a new situation or a nasty spider. The best way I can teach him is by showing him how.
And that even though I can't prepare him for every little thing he might face, there is One that is always with him.
Also, if he's been a good boy, there can be ice cream afterwards (because Mommy will probably be wanting it too)!
Friday, May 29, 2015
"Help"
I'm not sure how people who have held a precious baby in their arms and let their minds truly think about how that baby was formed for 9 months, can still doubt in the hand of a Creator.
There are so many, many things that have to go correctly in order for a baby to be born perfectly without complications. It is truly a miracle when a baby is flawlessly formed and birthed.
With that being said, complications aren't rare. Medical issues, physical deformities, and babies with special needs are fairly common, yet it doesn't mean that those precious babies are any less beautiful or as though they were neglected and forgotten in the forming process.
Matt and I have been fortunate to have 2 uncomplicated pregnancies.
This one has proven a bit different.
We found out yesterday that there is a cyst on our sweet baby's brain. This can be an indicator of a few possible chromosomal issues.
I feel like I've been on a roller coaster for the last couple of days - the exhilaration of the ultrasound appointment, the unmet expectation of not having a daughter, the thrill and embrace of naming our sweet baby and being able to call him by name, and then the crushing news that there could be something seriously wrong with the baby we love so much.
A few days ago, even before our ultrasound, I felt a song laid on my heart. "Good, Good Father" was my declaration going into this week, not knowing all that I would be facing. I lived this song, walking around the house singing it and even figuring out the chords on piano so that I could play it from my heart.
One of my favorite lyrics of this song says, "You are perfect in all of Your ways", and I sang that over and over again, seeking to embrace God's plan for us no matter what it was.
When we found out on Tuesday that we were having a boy, we immediately set out trying to settle on a name for him. That's one of our favorite parts - getting to call him by name. We finally chose "Ezra Noel", and Matt nearly cried happy tears. He had been set on that name this entire pregnancy. I had been the holdout - Ezra Fjerkenstad seemed a bit of a mouthful to me. Yet, when I discovered that the name means "help", my mind was changed. Help was the one thing I knew I needed through this pregnancy - help with my sickness, my exhaustion, my feeling overwhelmed about having 3 young kids.
Naming him brought so much peace and anticipation to his impending arrival.
Then Wednesday afternoon came, and a scary phone call from our OB nurse. That afternoon as tears flowed, I read in Psalm 20:6: "That cinches it - help's coming, an answer's on the way, everything's going to work out".
I smiled at God's goodness that I should read that psalm that day of all days. Peace flowed in.
Later that day, my mother-in-law Lynette called to pray with me. On the voicemail she spoke a couple different times that God is a "good, good father" and able to be trusted. She had no clue I had been clinging to that song. Peace flooded in.
When my mind has been troubled these past few days, I turn on worship music and direct my eyes to the one sure Help I have, God my Father Who loves me and works all things for good.
Here is the part where I say how I hesitated to post this. I could have just posted a professional singer and band singing the song. But because I have personalized this song so much, I felt like it was important to post a personalized version of it (with my very, very rough piano skills). I love this though because if you listen closely enough, you can hear Finn singing along with me. There's nothing quite like listening to your child sing along to a song like this!
We have an ultrasound Tuesday when we will discover more about what is going on with our baby. We highly value your prayers as we wait. Until Tuesday, we are focusing on expecting a good report.
Then our next hurdle will be breaking it to Finn that we are not naming the baby Batman.
There are so many, many things that have to go correctly in order for a baby to be born perfectly without complications. It is truly a miracle when a baby is flawlessly formed and birthed.
With that being said, complications aren't rare. Medical issues, physical deformities, and babies with special needs are fairly common, yet it doesn't mean that those precious babies are any less beautiful or as though they were neglected and forgotten in the forming process.
Matt and I have been fortunate to have 2 uncomplicated pregnancies.
This one has proven a bit different.
We found out yesterday that there is a cyst on our sweet baby's brain. This can be an indicator of a few possible chromosomal issues.
I feel like I've been on a roller coaster for the last couple of days - the exhilaration of the ultrasound appointment, the unmet expectation of not having a daughter, the thrill and embrace of naming our sweet baby and being able to call him by name, and then the crushing news that there could be something seriously wrong with the baby we love so much.
A few days ago, even before our ultrasound, I felt a song laid on my heart. "Good, Good Father" was my declaration going into this week, not knowing all that I would be facing. I lived this song, walking around the house singing it and even figuring out the chords on piano so that I could play it from my heart.
One of my favorite lyrics of this song says, "You are perfect in all of Your ways", and I sang that over and over again, seeking to embrace God's plan for us no matter what it was.
When we found out on Tuesday that we were having a boy, we immediately set out trying to settle on a name for him. That's one of our favorite parts - getting to call him by name. We finally chose "Ezra Noel", and Matt nearly cried happy tears. He had been set on that name this entire pregnancy. I had been the holdout - Ezra Fjerkenstad seemed a bit of a mouthful to me. Yet, when I discovered that the name means "help", my mind was changed. Help was the one thing I knew I needed through this pregnancy - help with my sickness, my exhaustion, my feeling overwhelmed about having 3 young kids.
Naming him brought so much peace and anticipation to his impending arrival.
Then Wednesday afternoon came, and a scary phone call from our OB nurse. That afternoon as tears flowed, I read in Psalm 20:6: "That cinches it - help's coming, an answer's on the way, everything's going to work out".
I smiled at God's goodness that I should read that psalm that day of all days. Peace flowed in.
Later that day, my mother-in-law Lynette called to pray with me. On the voicemail she spoke a couple different times that God is a "good, good father" and able to be trusted. She had no clue I had been clinging to that song. Peace flooded in.
When my mind has been troubled these past few days, I turn on worship music and direct my eyes to the one sure Help I have, God my Father Who loves me and works all things for good.
Here is the part where I say how I hesitated to post this. I could have just posted a professional singer and band singing the song. But because I have personalized this song so much, I felt like it was important to post a personalized version of it (with my very, very rough piano skills). I love this though because if you listen closely enough, you can hear Finn singing along with me. There's nothing quite like listening to your child sing along to a song like this!
We have an ultrasound Tuesday when we will discover more about what is going on with our baby. We highly value your prayers as we wait. Until Tuesday, we are focusing on expecting a good report.
Then our next hurdle will be breaking it to Finn that we are not naming the baby Batman.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
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.
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.
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