A beginning caveat— this is written to believers in Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord. All are welcome to read it, of course, but I am writing this to followers of Jesus, so if you do read it, please do so in this light.

As we have lived through this season, I am almost speechless to describe it. We are walking through a pandemic that is ravaging bodies, economies, and relationships.  At the same time, cultural upheaval of a magnitude I have never seen is rippling through our communities.  Amid this sits the beautiful, often broken, complicated, holy, and redeemed Bride of Christ—the Church.  Oh, how I love her—she is not perfect, but God is holding her, challenging her, rooting out sin, and calling her to show grace in a world that has lost its healing songs of mercy.  

Mercy’s songs, I humbly appeal, are quieting because we often cannot hold difficult realities about ourselves together.  Right now, culturally, we are struggling with our complexities and would rather label one another as “good” or “bad” based on one opinion, one mistake, one difference among us.  We have started putting people into these camps, categorizing one another as “this” or “that,” boxing complex human beings into spaces in which we will not let them escape.  We are even doing this sometimes in the church.

Yet, we who follow the Bible know how convoluted we are, for we bear both His image and a sinful nature simultaneously.  And, that reality gives us nuances that are not easily inserted into a simplistic duality.  Even when we have claimed the blood of Jesus as our righteousness—we have been born again, we still have not been glorified yet and face the challenge of our flesh daily.

Indeed, we are all made up of healthy and unhealthy elements; we are a convoluted jumble of it all.  As a wise counselor shared with me, we are all made up of parts— some functioning well and some not.  We have so much going on all at once. That is why we must resist the labeling of one another in exclusive, binding, and unyielding ways.  

Dividing ourselves into camps and words solely based on experiences and identities is so limiting.  That is not to say that these realities do not matter; they do— God made us specifically, beautifully, and purposefully in these ways.  But, our first identity as Christians must be in the blood of Jesus.  

As Christians, somehow, we have to reach through all this and grab the splintery Cross.  I see our hands there, all different, reaching through the darkness and terror to that Cross, holding there together.  As we do so in the midst of these crises, our compassion towards one another has to be so very strong, our love so very wide— wide enough to feel the stretch of Christ’s arms on the bloody cross.    

We need such humility to find one another.  Let me say that again to you and to myself—we need such humility to find one another.  

In the church, may we be found calling each other sister and brother first.  May we hold one another together.  May we have difficult conversations about our sin individually and corporately, hear one another anew, and walk in each other’s shoes more than we have.  But, but, but, we cannot divide ourselves in the church.  

Please, church, stay at the Cross.  Stay near it.  Let the blood of Christ be our foundation.  Everything must be handled in the shadow of the Cross.  That is where we must begin and eventually end.  And, if we think that anything or anyone other than Jesus can change a heart, we, too, will find ourselves bowing before a godless idol of humanistic ideology that will eventually devour our souls.   

​Instead, let us be found at the Cross, singing songs of mercy to a world that needs to see us finding unity in all our differences because of the blood of Jesus.   And may our songs of humility, redemption, and praise to our Father lead others to Jesus, in Whom streams of Living Water forever flow.

        So, ever since I was a little girl, I have been afraid of death.  I just remember being eerily aware of the danger of the world ever since I was very young.  This was not due to my childhood. I had a wonderful family and still do.  That I am even somewhat normal is due to them, I know, because God loved me so well through them. 
         My Mom has told me stories about my desire to wash my hands until they were raw because of germs.  How I knew about germs, I am not sure, but I picked it up along the way.  Also, I lived in a small town, and that smallness connects you with death because you are close to everyone.  We had our fair share of deaths, and I was close to most who passed.  Life circumstances and my innate fears seemed to whisper to me from the beginning.  Worry became a companion on my journey.
         In short, the prospect of death and its eventual imminence is something I think about, am cognizant of, and can worry about it (if I let myself) daily.
         So, enter the Coronavirus now-- you can imagine my level of crazy on the inside.  Oh my!  I just got back from Disneyland a few weeks ago and wore gloves during the rides the entire time I was there.  Yes, I was “that girl” because that was the only way I was able to get through it and enjoy myself and not make those around me miserable (at least, I hope)!
         As this pandemic closes in around the world, our country, and me, I am saddened, horrified, and, often, terrified.  All my fellow germaphobes are shouting out with me right now, and those who are anxious about such things understand my worry.
         Yet, despite all this crazy found in me and around me, God has placed a joy in Him that never goes away either.  This joy bubbles up and my face is smiling now even as I write it.  Nehemiah said that “the joy of the Lord is your strength,” (8:10) and that is a testimony that I give.  The delight I find in Him-- in worship, song, being His vessel where He calls me, in walking with Him—is truly breathtaking.  When He whooshes through me with His Holy Fire, I am undone and able to stand breathlessly in Him.
      In the midst of this see-sawing fear and joy is the battle for my faith over fear.  I face it daily and sometimes minutely.  I fight ferociously.  Despite my many frailties and doubts, I cannot deny the One who has called me by name, made me His own by His blood.  I love Him forever.  Still, how that fleshes out is hard for those of us who struggle in the grip of fear.  The difficulty of this battle is worth it, though.
         This is how I fight. 
         First, I go to His Word.  It is a daily source of renewal and adjustment. Often the lies from the world and the Evil One behind those filter through me throughout the day.  When I reorient myself and my mind in the Word, I am pulled near, restored, corrected.  There is no other washing that I need so much than that of the Word (Eph. 5:25).  I also daily swim in the Psalms—I immerse myself in them as if they are my oxygen.  For, as Jesus declared to the Evil One in Matt. 4:4, “… ‘It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
         Second, I spend time alone with Jesus.  Often, I visualize putting my worries in boxes and giving them to our Lord to handle.  I, also, imagine myself being held by Him and crawling up in His lap because that is truly what I need from Him.  Leaning into Him in these ways and through worship and the Word are so vital to my faith.  Like David says in Ps. 27:4-5, may I just be in Your Presence, then I will be okay! (My translation!)
Third, I have sounding boards that are wise.  I go to counseling regularly to process my life, and this helps me manage my anxiety. I have found it so helpful to process with someone else, to clarify, and to be present in this way.  Not only that, I have relationships with my family, friends, and husband that keep me grounded.  They provide perspective when I may be going a bit too far because of my fears.
         Fourth, I am part of the Body of Christ.  Though we cannot gather currently, the many years of gathering together still infuse my dry bones with life!  And, the Body is not bound by the church’s walls, thankfully, and we are still finding ways to connect and walk through this together.  I cannot tell you how much I love being a part of His Body!  Drawing strength from one another, leaning on others’ shining faith when I’m faltering, coming together in our frailties at the Cross of Christ—it is a joy like no other. 
       Fifth, I look to the Gospel and the Cross.  In these trying times of a new pandemic (my absolute worst germaphobe nightmare!), it has taken me a bit to reorient myself here.  Because of my struggles, I have been in survival mode while taking this all in.  I am slowly looking to His hand at work here and seeing where He is moving.  I know He hates evil and the sadness of sickness, for Eden was our true home and to Eden we are headed again.  But, even in the darkest of moments, He is near and is redeeming through it. I see Him when I see others praying, giving, carrying their crosses, and serving through these harrowing times.  My hope is that many awaken to Him, too, for when we face evil, much is clarified for us—what really matters and what does not.
         Sixth, I believe that God’s blood can cover my weaknesses.  I fail often in so many areas, but in this one, I am an epic failure.  I will never forget when I first read that worry was a sin!  Yet, there is nothing like abject weakness to remind us of our need for a Savior.  And, in this truth, I give myself grace.  This world is hard for natures like mine—sometimes I feel as if I cannot handle the evil that exists here in my own soul and in the world.  And, I know I am not alone-- if that is you, I see you and am with you in spirit.  Yet, on the opposite side, some of you are just like, “We got this. God is big enough for this. I’m not afraid.”  I LOVE that, but it is not what first comes to my mind at this moment even though I believe God is big enough, too.  Yet, still, God has called me His own and will get me to say that over time, even if mine is a quiet whisper next to someone’s roar.  Honestly, I have felt Him telling me that He knows what it costs me even to get there—our costly faith pleases Him as we take up our crosses even when we don’t want to.  Jesus shares in Luke 9:23—“And he said to all, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.’”  And, for my fearless friends, whatever their weakness, He knows what it costs them to have faith in other areas.
        Lastly, I pray and reach out where I can.  Prayer keeps me connected to my Abba Father, for without this connection, I will always falter.  It also lets me love my neighbors so powerfully.  Prayer is a work I can do for anyone at anytime; it is such a wonderful way to love someone tangibly.  I also pray against the Evil One and that he would be stopped in his effort to hurt humanity, for he hates those who bear God’s image.  We must battle him through prayer.  Prayer is the most effective weapon we have in our fight for faith, for others, and against fear.  Ephesians 6:12, 18—“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms….. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.”  May we be found on our knees more and more.
         So, wherever you are on the worry/anxiety scale, I encourage you to fight with me in the struggle against fear and worry.  It is okay to feel your feelings, but we must preach ourselves the Truth, too.  God is faithful and will be with us.  And, if you are reading this and are not a follower of Jesus, I invite you to follow Him today.  Just believe.  John 3:16—“ For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”  If you became His disciple right now, please contact me anytime, and I will help as you move forward in faith.
         Love and peace to you all from this weak, broken, needy, sinner sister who is strong, healed, upheld, and redeemed because of her Lord Jesus! 
 
 

 

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)