I have been wondering lately about truth and grace and our overexposed but also wonderfully-shared society.  What did you think about that sentence?  Yeah, I am confused, too, but it encompasses the wild complexities of living in this age.
     With the advent of social media, the non-stop news cycle, expanded visual formats for every screen, we are living in a wild, media-driven world.  Social media is just one part of our visual world, and it is one that I both love and abhor. 
     One blessing of social media is connectedness.  I love seeing friends near and far, getting to witness their lives in peace and hope and struggle and walking with them in that.  I, also, love having a platform to share about where God has brought me and have others journey with me.  These are all healthy and positive, adding to my wholeness and being.
     Still, there is the hard, and one of those for me is being tempted to miss being present.  Sometimes, I can be worried about posting while I am in the moment of living.  When that happens, I really am not present.  When I give into that pressure, I so miss out.  Ultimately, I don’t want to “live” online because that leads to disconnection with the people right before my very eyes.  And, I do not want to miss them!
     Another struggle in social media-land is that I can easily start to live falsely in this world.  It can become one of constructs, and in that, too, I can stumble.  In my worst moments, I lose sight of reality and focus on perception.  Full disclosure, I am a recovering perfectionistic, first-born pleaser.  So, I can take a deep dive off the truth-train in this constructed world if I’m not careful. 
     I think the lesson for me is not to lose touch with reality, actual reality, in the midst of the crazy times we live in.  Checking in with my motives are paramount to living truthfully.  I have to ask myself-- am I posting because I’m feeling insecure and have a need to show everyone that we are a “good” family and/or that I’m a “good/successful” person?  Or, am I sharing because I am grateful for the amazing moments He has given us in this life?  The answer to these questions makes every difference. 
     So, in the spirit of transparency, I want you to know that I have a wonderful family, but we are also a mess.  We are flawed, selfish people who squabble and fuss at one another sometimes.  We also have tons of fun together and great connectedness.  We are a bundle of joy and hard, sass and gentleness and everything in-between. 
     I get, though, that we don’t usually share the nitty gritty of our sinfulness because it would be awkward for everyone else observing it!  So, because of practicality and emotional appropriateness, we end up sharing the good moments usually.  And, I think that is generally okay as long as we know that all the other stuff in our lives is going on, too. 
     Staying real is so essential, but it is hard.  It takes deliberate intentionality and work to remain grounded in truth-- the truth that we all live in and contribute to the sinful, amazing, challenging, and beautiful world we inhabit.
     When we live in reality, our postings will remain genuine because we know who we are and who we aren’t.  None of us is perfect and life is crazy-hard and wonderful all at the same time.  When we have this perspective, our happy postings remind us of the wonderful that God has graciously given us as sustenance to our weary souls.
     So, joy in the gift of social media, but tell yourself the truth about it.  Like everything, it can be used for good or ill.  Technology is not evil or good inherently.  Just like everything, it is tainted by the Fall, and the people who employ it are fallen, as well.  We bring our brokenness to it, but we can also bring the healing and redemption of Jesus, as well. 
     May we be people who are living in truth, not constructs-- letting go of fake affirmation and choosing to dwell in the known truth of His unending love.  As we do, we will follow our Savior, walking in His steps and not our own. 

​        “Love endures all things.” (1 Corinthians 13:7)  That little but powerful world “all” carries and covers so much distance in soul.  I find that I love that word when it is representing all the goodness He brings this side of heaven.  But, when “all” includes suffering, my soul wavers and trembles.  It is then that I often hide or go in search of comfort. 
         Most of us, myself included, want stability at all costs.  We avoid and remove all pain whenever possible.  Until heaven or His coming, though, we are called to follow in all His footsteps, and His steps (1 Peter 2:21) knew both joy and suffering.  Though we will never bear the full extent of suffering He did, we will walk our own road after His.
          In the Hebrew, the word endure is made up of two words that literally mean to “abide under” (Strongs).  Thankfully, we do abide under God’s beautiful, tender blessings, like dew in the morning that comes to softly kiss the earth.  But, we also abide under the hard.  The challenge is to do it all—abide in whatever ways He is calling us to, be they full or sparse, sparkling or dark. 
        One of the most intense ways He calls us to abide under is with others in relationship.  This enduring with one another is one of the most amazing ways we reflect Him and show the world who He is.  In my relationships, enduring has been both joyous and difficult, depending on what kind of road I am walking.  The times that He has poured out Himself in fellowship with my husband, children, and friends have been some of the sweetest I have ever known.  It is like a pool of grace He gives to cool ourselves off from this difficult world.
       But, even with these amazing people I just mentioned, enduring can be difficult, as well.  For, in our families and with our friends, we still rub up against the humanity of one another, that pesky flesh with which we all still wrestle.  It is there that I want to sit with you today.
        Though every relationship calls me to endure lovingly, I want to share about parenting today.  I have found that living and breathing enduring love while parenting requires immense discipline of spirit. Parenting seems easy when all is going well, but to take the time in the hardest moments to breathe and pray so that I can respond and not react is bone-deep hard.
         It is so difficult because I sometimes am immature and choose to let my emotions reign instead of His Spirit.  When struggle ensues because of tiredness, squabbles, disrespect, being controlling, and so on (in either them, me, or all of us), I have a choice to make the pain stop via decree and top-down authority, or I can seek His direction before I act.  I can abide under and then move forward, or I can avoid it through my attempts to control the situation.  Control, though, never gets to my heart or my kids’ heart or His heart. 
       Yet, as any parent eventually realizes, the shaping and shepherding of souls is not a recipe we can manufacture.  It is only a surrender I can live.  This awareness and shift in my spirit is a journey I am joyfully on, for I want to be the best shepherd I can be, not just make my life more comfortable or my children more compliant.
          Compliant children is my short-term aim when my heart just wants peace and the appearance of ease.  But, down deep, I am insatiably hungry for His heart to change us in our depths, with me first in line and first in need.   When I do that and abide under with my children, He is given the grace and space to mold us all in His ways as we grow together in our walk on this earth.
         I am so thankful for the joy that my kids so deeply and effortlessly bring to my life just by being them and the amazing images of God He made them.  They truly are some of His most precious gifts to me!!  Abiding under is often so effortless in those magical times of communion.  But, I am becoming more and more grateful for the broken in us all that reminds me (and I hope one day them when they look back!) how much I and they need a Savior.  And, this, too, is a beauty they bring to my life that is both costly and precious.
         This is what enduring together looks like. It looks like abiding under, not sweeping under.  It is staying near and not leaving in the hard.  It is getting to the heart and not just outwardly appearances.   It is battling together through victories and defeats, knowing all is somehow leading us to Him.  For, He is the Giver of every victory and the only Succor that will ever meet our need. 
        This all calls for a bravery that is humbling.  To love truly and as best we can this side of heaven, honestly, and in every season, is none other than cruciform living.
         As we live out this surrendered, cruciform love in both the highs and lows together, may we be the living embodiment of this verse to all we encounter—“For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.” (2 Cor. 2:15)  May our abiding under with each other leave the indelible, exquisite, costly fragrance of Him wherever we walk. 

      Besides suffering, one of the hardest callings we have is to wait.  Though I often stubbornly resist, when I do wait, I see Him able to move more freely and powerfully in my life.  Even so, I still find the discipline of waiting to be a constant struggle. 
     Myriad forces hinder our waiting.  In our everyday lives, we are accustomed to getting things quickly—we have running water, microwaves, instant access to information, etc.  And, in our inner worlds, we are also similarly expectant.  If we work hard enough, we believe we can achieve our dreams.  In a way, we sometimes are convinced we deserve to get things easily because we have lived with these conveniences and seen such successes in our lives. 
     Then, we face something that is not easily accessible or that we cannot work into fulfillment.  We begin to realize that life does not always work out in the ways we envision, even when we try hard.  Sometimes, we do get what we want quickly, but often, He gives us what we need…slowly. 
     And, it is the slowly that really hurts.  It hurts because we often want what we want at whatever cost, even if it costs us His leading and covering.  
    To wait means to surrender, and surrendering is an achingly difficult business.  The relinquishing of our plans and our pride is akin to losing a limb.  It is life-altering.  When we lay ourselves down in this way, we are forever marked.
     The struggle began, just like almost everything, in the Garden.  Eve had a trust problem first.  She did not believe God’s plans were truly good for her.  So, she decided not to wait on God but manufacture good on her own.  She, so often like us, did not like the slow of God’s holy work in her life.  I am just like Eve too often.  
     This past year, I had a situation happen in which I wanted to share a perspective with someone about a sensitive cultural situation.  I felt the need to do it, and I did it, but I had not waited.  I had not prayed enough before I moved—I just went.  
     My husband often humorously calls me a “rhino” because I get this fierce focus and just will plow anything (and sadly sometimes anyone) down that gets in my way.  This dogged quality can be a blessing when operating under the Spirit’s direction.  He made me with a spirit that does not stop or give up, but it is His to use, not mine.  When I use it in my power, it can become a battering ram that leaves hurt in its wake.  The “rhino” in me struggles mightily to wait for wisdom, wait for prayer, wait for Him.
     So, when this situation happened, I had to circle back, apologize, and humble myself before God and the person because I had not waited.  The issue I brought up respectfully is not one I regret or would take back, but I should have waited and had Him direct me in the right timing of it.
     In the slowing and surrendering, even in my sin, He began to work.  I had allowed Him the sacred space of leading my life.  My goal, though, is to do that more on the front end of situations and not the back end.  I want to walk with Him humbly, slowly, quietly, while listening intently, so that I know when it is I need to stand meekly and when to be quiet.  
     As I look in Scripture, I see the discipline of waiting woven throughout the Old and the New Testaments.  The Psalmist often encourages his listeners to wait on the Lord—the word “wait” is mentioned 23 times in the Psalms.   And, Isaiah wrote of it often.  Listen to Isaiah in the 64th chapter, verse 4, “Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides You, who acts on behalf of those who wait for Him.”  And, in the New Testament, we are “waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ…” (Titus 2:13)  
     The posture of waiting is written all over His pages, but it is a mold into which we often must be poured, for we do not take its shape easily.  God is eager to meet us in our waiting, but the rub is to wait first so that we can be met!
     So, in this fast, accessible world we live in, may we stop, listen, beseech, submit…wait.  I humbly invite you and myself to increase the rhythm of waiting in our souls, for “they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

Grace has left our culture with a swiftness and totality that takes my very breath away.  There is hardly any margin, mercy, or grace to be found. The art of disagreeing agreeably seems a lost and alien art.  Now, contempt has come calling, and we have drunk of it deeply. 
 
The stakes are truly high without grace.  Being candid with those whom you disagree can cost you something very tangible like your job and, even worse, the intangible yet invaluable good--your reputation.  One “wrong” statement or opinion can forever alter your present and future.  The very integrity I have tried so hard to live can be rendered moot by one interaction, one simple opinion fraying it completely. 
 
The Bible says that “a good name is more desirable than great riches.” (Proverbs 22:1)  But, how do we deal with a vitriolic culture that can wreck your name because you view the world differently than it does?  The coldness of our world scares me completely.  As David says in Psalm 69, “Scorn has broken my heart and has left me helpless; I looked for sympathy, but there was none, for comforters, but I found none.” (20)
 
Sadly, another level of malice is often layered to our disagreements.  If one is on “the wrong side of an issue,“ many people often declare the person with the other viewpoint to be “evil,” as well as ignorant, spreading further malice.  When I think of someone who is evil, I think of the Devil, Hitler, Stalin, terrorists.  Sadly, we are calling our neighbors, friends, church members, fellow citizens with this same term just because we disagree.  And, it is utterly suffocating. 
 
I humbly argue that contempt is the true evil here.  For, when we feel contempt, we secretly believe in our soul that we are “better” than others, more enlightened, etc.  While stroking our egos, we secretly wish others could be like us— so rational, intelligent, and advanced.  Oxford Living Dictionary gives this definition for contempt—“The feeling that a person or a thing is worthless or beneath consideration.”  How aptly this describes our culture right now when we disagree; we are so swift to completely render others “worthless.”
 
Sadly, most of us choose not to do the hard work of truly, vitally disagreeing with someone while keeping his/her motives and humanity in check.  It is much easier to write off people as “quacks” than to hear their hearts, even if you think their conclusions are fundamentally, ethically, morally, and even egregiously wrong.
 
Being a Christian is helping me challenge this tendency in myself.  Because of my beliefs, I think all humans are made in God’s image—the Imago Dei, and this belief catches me in my contempt.  When I remember we are made in His image, it is harder to hate, harder to dismiss, harder to compartmentalize someone into a “bad” category.  Even my “enemies” in ideology are stamped with the divine. 
 
What does this mean for me?  Right now, it means that I have decided not to put myself out there politically/ideologically in the social media realm.  That could certainly change, but for now, it helps me practice what I preach— to dialogue with humans face-to-face or one-on-one regarding these hard issues, forcing me to surrender contempt as I stare into someone’s eyes, smile, and frown. 
 
But, I am not running, so if you want to know my view on abortion, immigration, refugees and vetting, President Trump, Democrats, Republicans, theology, marriage and gender issues, or just anything in general, please email me so that we can have a personal chat.  I will gladly tell you all these things in relationship but not on social media where it is too easy for me to hide and not look into your eyes.  We must see each other as human during these hard, vital, crazy, emotional, but, hopefully, respectful conversations/debates.

I ask you to join with me in fighting this contempt that so easily creeps into our insecure and vain souls.  No matter how you feel led to share your opinions to the world, I pray you would lay down your contempt as you do it.  I am trying right along with you, battling often on my knees to do this very thing. 
 
May humility be the cloak we wear and grace be the fragrance we leave when we share our opinions.
 
 
 

                Prayer is always, always changing me, but there has been a certain prayer crawling through my soul lately, challenging some of the small spaces in my spirit.  In Rebecca Konyndyk DeYoung’s book, Glittering Vices, she introduced me to a word I have never known—pusillanimity, which means “smallness of soul.” (9)  What a profound phrase that encapsulates the deepest battles of who we are fighting to be. 
              The shapes of my soul’s smallness are many.  As I look at the vices in that book, I pretty much can find them all in the back corners and darker rooms of my soul.  But, there is one that God has been really working on lately—its name is envy.
                 This is one of those vices that embarrasses me most because as someone who hates pettiness, this sin unmistakably reeks of it.  Yet, it lives in me.  And, as De Young writes, “The bottom line for the envious is how they stack up against others, because they measure their self-worth comparatively.” (44)  This is so true.  Sometimes, when I look at others in admiration, it turns to envy, and I feel comparison’s gong ringing through my soul.  It is then that I can cross over into sin’s darkness.
               So, I have begun to pray on my knees to fight this darkness when it comes.  The prayer I pray is for His glory to abound more and more, especially in others.  I ask that His work in them to be great so that He may be glorified even more.  As I do, I begin to hunger for His glory above all else, rejoicing in His movement everywhere and in everyone instead of worrying about myself.  As John said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” (3:30) 
                It is a hard prayer, for my selfishness breathes just as strongly as Eve’s did in her garden.  But, as I submit, I am tasting His freedom.  It is a posture I am growing in, and I don’t always do it perfectly or as sincerely as I want.  Still, it is changing me, nonetheless, this wanting more of God and more for others than myself.
                   So, when envy comes to call, what will we do?  When we see someone more successful at our field in worldly terms, when we see God’s unmistakable voice in another and wish for it in ours, when we see someone who has a more “perfect” family than ours, when we look at those who are the great influencers and wonder about our own place in the world, what response will we have? 
                   I pray you will join me in praying that God will be glorified and abound more and more in everyone we see.   And, may we not compare ourselves to others but rejoice in the God-reflection that is in us each.  As De Young says, “From a secure sense of God’s love and life-giving power, untainted by the envier’s conditional and comparative lens, we can see the right way to follow Paul’s admonition to ‘in humility regard others as better than yourselves.’” (57) 
                 Matthew records these words from Jesus—“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (16:24-25)  As we carry our own crosses and watch others carry theirs, my hope is that we would not tarry over them--how big or small they are, what a wide or narrow road they walk, or if theirs has less splinters than ours.  Instead, may we be found simply and faithfully carrying our cross while wholeheartedly encouraging and rejoicing with others as they carry theirs. 
                  And, as our personal kingdoms fall away, our anxious, worried grip of insecurity will loosen.  We will, then, be able to revel and rest in the God-ness we find in His people—shouting our joy at His movement in them!!  The painful, beautiful practice of humility will lead us into rejoicing at His amazing movement through us all—gasping at the grace of God that He even allows us to be part of His workings here on earth.  God, grant us mercy upon mercies to do just this. Hallelujah and hallelujah.

     I had another blog planned, but there has been a heaviness in my soul lately that must come out.  So much loss and chaos has been happening in my little world and in the larger world around us. And, I just want it to stop. 
     I don’t know if anyone is equipped for these losses, but I feel so utterly bereft when grief comes.  For, pain sometimes accompanies the price of love and connection.  I am so glad to pay it because it means I have fully attached my heart to another, but it is so costly. 
     Recently, one of the communities I have chosen to journey deeply with—my church-- has experienced two incredibly painful tragedies.  The first is a young woman whose life ended through domestic violence.  Her husband lost his life that night, too, eventually.  In that moment, two little girls were left orphaned in one instant of madness, pain, and evil.  It is almost too much to take in.
     Next, a dear servant in this same community collapsed the very next week during our last session of worship at VBS.  She was a tireless, endless warrior for the evangelism of children.  She had remarked to me that week when we were serving together that “VBS was the highlight of [her] year.”  When most people are just trying to make it through the wild and wonderful craziness that is VBS, she was living life exhilarated because of it!  What a glorious testimony and what pain that we have now lost her.
     In our larger world, we have had the Baghdad, Bangladesh, and Nice murders in the last several weeks.  And, now we have the horrid tragedies happening in America clamoring around us.  And, many, many more continue to suffer around the globe, as well, because of every imaginable evil, be it starvation, rape, murder, sickness, oppression, and so on.
     With all of this, my spirit just sighs and wonders if I can keep going in the midst of this harshness, this fragility of life, this chaos, this sadness.  Sometimes, I wonder if I can keep breathing through it because the pain is so tangible and stifling.
     Can I just say that I am not okay with this?  I hate this reality of death and sin and the seeming unfairness of it all.
     Nevertheless, I am reminded that my God is not satisfied either with the way of this world.  He is not okay with this evil we live with and that we even experience in our own hearts.  His vision was Eden, and I think that my soul is long remembering it.  The imprint of His reflection on me remembers the lost Eden we came from where there was no sin, no evil, no loss, no pain, no sickness, no death.  And, I long for that home.
     There is good news, though, for God is leading us to a restored Eden, reclaiming for us what was lost when Eve chose to go her own way and misuse the freedom God gave her and Adam.  Ever since the heavens were rent apart and started groaning at that very moment, God, the great I Am, has been writing the larger story of Eden Redeemed. 
     It started with Israel’s redemption.  The gift of their Passover lamb foreshadowed the Passover Lamb to come.  “‘Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.’” (John 1:29) Through Him-- Jesus, we found our ultimate redemption on the Cross.  Then came the Empty Tomb, where death was vanquished.  There, God rebuked all graves for their deadness and caused them to be final no more. 
     And, it is still happening today, as He leads His church, His people, to sing the song of Eden and Redemption to all those who are still struggling in this groaning, broken, beautiful land.  It is because of this, His labor for us, that we can keep breathing in the light of losing our loved ones and somehow bear the continued suffering in this world. 
     May we breathe in Him, Truth, as we walk forward day by day in the hardness of this life.  For, platitudes will never satisfy, only a Truth grounded in reality can sustain our spirits— a Truth that knows of a bloody, costly, yet victorious cross.  And, may we rest knowing that those who are in Jesus are with Him now and weep no more.  

            This idea of flesh as currency is inescapable for us all.  Its influence and reach are everywhere the eye can see.  As I have wrestled with this, I have been shattered by our incessant need for worthiness.  We tend to use whatever it is we “possess” to prove worthiness to one another.  There are so many currencies, and I will get to more of them later, but one of the most powerful is flesh.
            The human form is so utterly beautiful that it has become a currency for our world.  Its original design was made for God’s glory and for the blessing of each other.  God ordained our bodies to be one of the primary ways He moves in this world. It is in and through this temple of His (1 Corinthians 6:19-20; 12:7-27) that we are to carry out the callings He has put on our lives.  He uses physical bodies to store up our giftings, to love one another in tangible ways, and to shepherd His creation as caretakers of earthly reality. 
            After the Fall, though, we have taken this beautiful vessel and used it for our glory and gain.  Far too often, we have allowed the Evil One to transform it into a tool of his.
            Most people do not even recognize their engagement with this struggle.  It is a normalized undercurrent that only reveals itself through our trembling, exposed bodies.  If you look at most celebrities, many use some form of this currency.  Very rarely do you see someone who is overweight or average looking as a superstar.  There are definite exceptions, thankfully, but not many.  Indeed, very rarely do you see someone who stands on their talent alone—they are always dressed to draw more and more people in with their flesh.
            I, personally, am amazed that women, in particular, agree to this.  As someone who calls herself a Christian feminist (someone who believes in the inherent, equal value of women before God), I am so disheartened to see beautiful, talented women singing in their underwear or even less to make a statement.  Indeed, their talent is enough--it really is-- yet no one has told them this sweet truth.
            Not to leave out men, I see this happening with men who are obsessed with their bodies, showing off their muscles, and going tight-shirted and/or shirtless before others.  It is like they are screaming with their bodies, “See! I am worthy. I am attractive.  I matter.”   Their pain is tangible, as well.
            Then, with both sexes so tangled up in this, unbounded messiness follows.  Both are trying to use themselves as currency to get ahead in the world’s eyes as well as in romantic relationships.  Yet, flesh as currency always runs out over time; there is always someone more attractive, younger, or whose flesh is more valuable to the world.
            Indeed, thinking this way about flesh has become so prominent that it is often described by a business term-- “assets.”  An asset is most often used in the business world to describe something of value and is often monetary in nature.  We have started using the vocabulary of goods and money to describe our very flesh.  It is so wild to comprehend this once we step out of ourselves and see this phenomenon occurring!
            After all this, we are forced to ask ourselves how we are, indeed, using our flesh before others.  In my life and as a product of my culture, I am not at all immune to this, nor will I ever be.  As a young college graduate, I loved sun dresses, but they were often too short.  I had unease about it, and God slowly convicted and challenged me with these very thoughts on flesh.  From that point on, as God revealed my motives, how I mediate my flesh before the world has radically changed. 
            All that I wear has come under scrutiny now because I do not want to lead with my flesh ever again.  For me, it has affected my bathing suits, length of shorts and skirts, tightness of clothes, and depth of collars.  I am not going to tell you any hard and fast rules on this because there are none—some people might think I am not modest enough even though I may be considered overly modest by others.  What I will say is—look at your heart and how that is reflected in what you are wearing.  Are you leading with your flesh or not? 
            I also want to mention our current obsession with our bodies in the exercise arena.  I have no problem with high-impact, endurance sports such as triathlons or Crossfit and all sports in general.  But, what I will say is unless these activities are done in light of Him, they can lead to imbalance and focus us inordinately on our body and its individual strength.  That focus can then become obsession that leads to an unhealthy body currency.
            Instead, our bodies should be the place that we cherish and keep healthy because it is one of the most powerful vehicles of His love to the world.  Exercise should be a way that we honor God by making our bodies capable of performing His callings and service through us.  Thus, for those gifted and called to sports and body development, may it be for the purpose of growing faith and endurance, knowing that none of us are powerful and strong except that He alone has given us the will (and maybe the genetics) to be.  And, may our bodily strength be poured out for Him and not for attention.   
            Bottom line, the gift of flesh is powerful and can be used in mighty ways.  It is my heart’s desire that we contemplate how we use it and how that is blessing God and others.  Ultimately, my hope is that when we walk away from someone, it will not be our flesh they remember.  Instead, may it be the tangible fragrance of the One who formed us. (Genesis 2:7-8)  As Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians, “But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Him everywhere.” (2:14)
            Lastly, flesh is only one of many, many currencies we all utilize.  I think intelligence, parenting, spirituality, and job success are just some of the many other currency forms we struggle with when encountering people.  Flesh may not be one that you really are bothered by, but you may secretly really want everyone to think you are the smartest person in the room.  Or, maybe you want every other family to envy your parenting skills and successful kids? Maybe you are too proud of your newest promotion?  Maybe you are so excited by the money in your investment and bank accounts—if only the world could see what you have?  Maybe you are proud of your “I can never be shaken” faith and how spiritual you are?  The list is endless.
            What is it for you?  What is your currency?  What do you use to prove your worthiness to others?  These are questions that I am constantly wrestling with in an effort not to posture before the world but to be totally and simply Amy whose identity is found in Jesus Christ.  All of the unique qualities that make up “me” are simply vessels for His working in the world through me.  Paul reminds us in Ephesians 2:10, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”  Whatever it is that I “do” or “possess,” it is all to be poured out before Him and is ultimately His anyway.
            At the end of the day, if your/my identity is wrapped up in any other currency than His, we are heading for a bankruptcy of spirit.  As much as we can and are able, may we not use any currency except that of our brokenness, our humility, and the sole claim we have in the greatness of our Savior, Jesus—His life, death, and resurrection.  May He be what we leave to all we meet.     

Lately, we have lived some very difficult times in our family.  My mother-in-law finally lost her fight against lung cancer this past month after having battled for about 1 1/2 years.  It has been immeasurably hard to let her go, yet we have had peace in the valley because of her love for Jesus and His ministry to our grieving souls.  With that, we have travelled and mourned and had much upheaval of time, place, and heart. 
 
This month has had much joy in it, as well, for my children just turned 9—the ones I did not know if ever would come.  They were much longed for, prayed for, and hoped for.  My sweet mom also celebrated her birthday this month.  The celebrations have been many, joyous, and chaotic! 
 
Outside of these events, life has just been very busy with scheduling and fullness—all good, but it has been fast, fast, fast.  As our children have gotten older, more activities have come and paces have surged forward.  For you, my friends reading this, I am sure there is much going on in your world, too—jobs, callings, loss of loved ones, family shepherding/parenting, births, chores, aching struggles, fun times with friends, and so forth.
 
For me, the hectic pace of life often ends up assaulting my body in harsh ways.  Last night, in bed, my anxiety was at full throttle as I felt the plates in my heart and life spinning, and I was so overwhelmed. I was praying and praying, yet my body had taken off.  The adrenaline had already shot through my veins, and my heart was racing (even while on a betablocker!).  I was working at staying calm through prayer—trying not to let myself panic while my body was out of control.
 
As all of this life has been happening, God has been weaving the concept of Sabbath into my soul. There has not been much room for Sabbath in my life these days, and that is okay for a time.  Sometimes, life demands that we be present in ways that push, pull, and require our every last ounce of being.  But, that reality cannot stay forever.  Sabbath is built into the very fabric of our souls.  Yahweh, our Maker and the Creator, Himself, rested on the seventh day of creation.  Since we are so wondrously made in His image, we, too, must Sabbath.
 
In the Ten Commandments, God says that “…the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.” (Exodus 20:11)  It is a blessed and sacred part of our relationship with Him.  Beyond that, it is a witness between us.  Hear what He says to the Israelites in Exodus 31:17--“ It will be a sign between me and the Israelites forever, for in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he rested and was refreshed.’”  Our God knew we needed this restful discipline to refresh us and to give witness to His love.
 
Jesus, the One Who Sabbathed perfectly on this earth, reminded the teachers of the law that “…the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” (Mark 2:27)  God always meant for it to bless us and also to teach us the reverence of stopping our agendas so that we might remember Him and seek after His.  The Hebrew word for Sabbath literally means, “cease, desist.” (Vines)  It is so hard to cease in our fast-paced world, for our strivings, victories, and worries distract us mightily.
 
I do not know all the reasons why God has allowed me to battle anxiety so severely, but I do know that it forces me to Sabbath.  I literally start breaking down inwardly and outwardly if I do not practice Sabbath in my life.  In this, I am so grateful for God’s redeeming my weakness to draw me closer to Him.    
 
Beyond His work over my anxiety, He has breathed Sabbath over my parenting, marriage, the daily grind of living, in my callings, and beyond.  Here are some of the ways I Sabbath with Him—looking out a window and really seeing His handiwork, watching/reading visual and redemptive stories, having regular breaks in my leading of worship, sitting down and doing nothing for a time, going on a date with my husband, having fun with my children, ceasing from my agendas and productivity, not listening to all the podcasts I’d like so that there is silence in my spirit, calling a friend, relishing and experiencing colors and beauty, and many more.  All of these are little, restful breaths of Him that help restore my soul. 
 
Finally, my very best times of Sabbath are when I take time to get alone with Jesus and commune intentionally and fervently with Him.  Only then do I enter most deeply into that rare and holy rest found in the heart of Sabbath.    
 
I pray that we would cultivate more and more Sabbath in our busy lives.  May we rest in Him so that we can boldly live out our callings before Him in His strength and not our own.  May we rest, be refreshed, and drink of Him.  May we be a people who Sabbath.

The second son he [Joseph] named Ephraim and said, “It is because God has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering.”  Gen. 41:52

I was sitting in a Beth Moore Bible study when God rattled me with this verse.  It has been inside of me before, but it hadn’t been in my soul lately.  Since then, it hasn’t really left.

I think why this struck me so powerfully is because of how painful suffering truly is.  The pain we encounter personally and through others contends against this verse’s truth, trying to tamp it out and swallow it whole.  We often wonder like David did in Psalm 13 if God has forgotten us because the hardship is so great.  We wonder how anyone can survive this world and its brokenness.

 When Jesus faced the darkest night of His soul, He humbly asked that it might pass but then went on to pray the most amazing, costly, holy prayer I have ever heard—“not My will, but Thine be done.”  (Luke 22:42)  In so doing, He showed us how much He trusted His Father’s faithfulness to carry Him through the gaping evil coming after Him.  In the midst of His trial, He opened Himself up in complete vulnerability to the capable hands of His Father.  

But during our suffering, we typically can be found in fetal positions trying desperately to banish any and every hurt from our lives.  It is very hard for us to be vulnerable and open to even God during these times.  The idea of letting Him work in our pain causes us to sweat our own drops of blood.

I have been in some rather wicked lands of suffering just like you have.  That is one thing that unites us all—we live together in this brokenness.  We all bear the burden of Adam and Eve’s taste of sin in the Garden.  Though God’s common grace upholds us all and reveals so much of His beauty still, we all share a common table of sin and its fallout—a world with sickness, death, and temptation. 

Nevertheless (such a faith-filled word), He has not left us at that table.  Redemption sprang forth right after that loss in our Garden.  As He tenderly clothed his wayward children, His restoration had begun.  And over time, He called out a people to show His grace and reveal His mercy and truth, lighting up the whole world with His witness through them.  As He promised to Abraham, the entire earth would be blessed because of the people coming through him (Gen. 12:3); God wanted to redeem not just the Israelites but all people from the very beginning.

Measure upon measure of redemption—the law, the covenants, nature itself with its cycle of  death and resurrection among myriad other graces of restoration— have come.  But, none compare to His Son.  Immanuel—God with us—Who came to be the Lamb for our Passover.  Now, those of us in Christ have been passed over; death can no longer hold us because it did not hold Him.  This is how much God can do through suffering—conquer sin, vanquish death—literally save… the… world.

In the end, we have to face whether we are willing to open ourselves up to our Father, just as Jesus did, to bear fruit in the midst of our own wanderings and devastated lands.  Are we willing to let everything be redeemed— or are there pockets in our spirits we are not willing to open up to His work?  Are we able to trust that His redemptive power is big enough for every evil—internal and external-- we encounter? 

As I have wrestled with this, I want to journey in a way that lets Him rain havoc in my darknesses—both the ones I harbor and the ones with which the Evil One attacks me.  May Yahweh God plow, till, and transform every darkness, planting seeds of hope, redemption, restoration, and peace where once there was stronghold, sin, attack, siege.  May we follow our example and Savior, Jesus— learning, yielding, and allowing Yahweh to bear in us the fragrant, costly fruit that can be reaped in the crucible of every trial. 

But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you. To Him be the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 5:10-11)