Being poor is a life sucker. It crushes the spirit, giving way to perpetual feelings of never being good enough in any way. It feels shameful. Isolating. Depressing. EXHAUSTING. Defeating. ALL. THE. TIME. We don't quite understand if we've never been there ourselves or haven't walked through it with someone we care about it. Misconceptions swarm the hearts and minds of those who just don't get it. Poverty takes on it's own sick life to infect thousands every day, in our country and in our backyards. Many of our social and government institutions perpetuate this. Just sitting in traffic court alone is disheartening. The system is set up to miserably fail the poor. Penalties on fines that weren't paid to begin with because groceries for the family had to come first. It's a racket. Good men and women go through rehab, complete programs successfully, but if they come in homeless and jobless and leave sober but with no money, good luck. No money - no home - no car - no way to get to a job. And, if they have a record, that's another strike against them. And then we're disgusted when they turn back to the old crowd and addiction of choice. Well, of course they did! I admit to being ignorant of some of these things. I just didn't know. I thought I had grace and understanding, but it had limits. I still have limits and a whole lot more learning to do! I know I do not have all the answers. It is a problem that has multiple levels, causes, and solutions. When I read about the life of Jesus, he had such a beautiful heart for the poor. Maybe a good part of the solution is adopting a heart and mind like Jesus first and foremost. Can the collective Church be a place of compassion? I absolutely do not claim to be a theologian but I'm having a hard time recalling Jesus ever sitting around a table talking about the dangers of enabling people. He simply acted. He saw needs and he reached out with compassion to satisfy them. I'm not implying that there shouldn't be prayer and wisdom involved. I'm implying that maybe we need to get deep down honest about our own poverty of the heart, mind, and soul. Our own lack. Because, to get honest in those places leaves no choice but to reach for the saving hands and the cross of Jesus Christ. When we come to terms with our own dirt and the beautiful glorious washing of Jesus, then we don't find the need to sit with our coffee mugs around the conference table or kitchen table discussing whether or not someone else's dirt is worthy of cleaning. It very joyfully WON'T MATTER! Now, that is the kind of glorious freedom the Jesus following collective Church needs, in order to be about the business of God! We need each other. And, the world is desperate for our love and compassion. Loose the chains! Entertain the stranger! Share your goods! Give away your coat! Love kindness!
Amen and Amen.
Saturday, May 26, 2018
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
It Matters
Last week, I was reading one of Ron Ovitt's "Moment In The Word" devotionals entitled, "What's the Use?" As God would have it, that was some of what I was thinking when I woke up that morning. I was tired and irritable and the sun hadn't even come up yet! My mind went down Misery Lane which is the street Martyr lives on. I started thinking about everything I was doing for everyone else - my kids, husband, residents, ministry. It even felt like the dog was looking at me for a piece of the pie. And, I thought, what is the use? What does any of it matter? This falling and getting back up kind of stuff - this "I'm going to trust you Lord no matter what sinkhole I'm in" was starting to feel like a waste of time. Being "good" and doing "right" hadn't been getting me anywhere. I felt alone, taken for granted, and frustrated with God. And, then I felt even more frustrated with myself for being frustrated with God, because he is GOD, after all. There wasn't any of this I could pin on Him, dang it. I was good and miserable in minutes as I sat outside in the pre-dawn beauty that I wasn't seeing.
I looked up to the sky and silently asked the Lord, does any of it matter? My misery turned to sadness and I let Him in. I let Him minister to my heart. Even as I type this, the tears fall as I remember His goodness; His balm over me that morning. There was one specific piece of ministry I thought about with God and He impressed on me the surest knowledge that He knew all about it. And, I knew that if it all went up in smoke, He would be pleased nonetheless, because it was about Him anyway. It's all about Him. No one and nothing could change that.
Somewhere in there is when I read the devotional which went on to point out all the blessing that comes from knowing and serving God and the importance of asking for wisdom and mercy as we work out our faith. We have to change perspective. As I reflected on all the benefits I had received from serving and trusting God, my heart grew full. I went further to reflect on the personhood of Christ. My King. My Savior. Serving Him went beyond the benefits. His face showed clearer and like I said earlier, it was about HIM. The One who gave up His life for me. His heart stopped for me and some day I'm going to be welcome into my eternal home with Him and that alone, that right there, is more than I deserve. This hit me with great comfort and encouragement. My energy level rose as I continued to recall all the blessings in my life that had come as a result of serving Him. I was being fed by the Father as I sat on my deck with the birds, wind and pre-dawn awesomeness.
What we do matters. How hard we are trying matters. The world is always watching us. Our kids are influenced by what they see in us. Friends. Spouses. Neighbors. Friends. Family. Strangers. We are light bearers and it's hard work. And even when when no human has seen, God has. He saw you let someone get in front of you in line at the grocery store. He saw you bite down on the nasty retort that was ready to come out of your mouth. He saw you get up in the middle of the night to care for your child or to check on your sick spouse. He saw how hard you worked today to say "no" to that person, place, or thing that wasn't good for you. He saw your hands fold laundry, cook dinner, or send that encouraging text. He heard us engage others when we really didn't even feel like talking. He LOVES our efforts. He is touched by our praises when we're hurting. He knows all we are holding inside and all we are putting ASIDE in order to make it and move on His behalf. He is IN us and beside us.
"So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up." Galatians 6:9 Keep up the good work!
*To read Ron Ovitt's devotional entitled "What's the Use" in it's entirety go to:
https://devog.wordpress.com/2018/05/16/whats-the-use-5/
To order his devotional book entitled, "Moment in the Word" go to:
https://www.amazon.com/Moment-Word-Daily-Moments-That/dp/1973517922
I looked up to the sky and silently asked the Lord, does any of it matter? My misery turned to sadness and I let Him in. I let Him minister to my heart. Even as I type this, the tears fall as I remember His goodness; His balm over me that morning. There was one specific piece of ministry I thought about with God and He impressed on me the surest knowledge that He knew all about it. And, I knew that if it all went up in smoke, He would be pleased nonetheless, because it was about Him anyway. It's all about Him. No one and nothing could change that.
Somewhere in there is when I read the devotional which went on to point out all the blessing that comes from knowing and serving God and the importance of asking for wisdom and mercy as we work out our faith. We have to change perspective. As I reflected on all the benefits I had received from serving and trusting God, my heart grew full. I went further to reflect on the personhood of Christ. My King. My Savior. Serving Him went beyond the benefits. His face showed clearer and like I said earlier, it was about HIM. The One who gave up His life for me. His heart stopped for me and some day I'm going to be welcome into my eternal home with Him and that alone, that right there, is more than I deserve. This hit me with great comfort and encouragement. My energy level rose as I continued to recall all the blessings in my life that had come as a result of serving Him. I was being fed by the Father as I sat on my deck with the birds, wind and pre-dawn awesomeness.
What we do matters. How hard we are trying matters. The world is always watching us. Our kids are influenced by what they see in us. Friends. Spouses. Neighbors. Friends. Family. Strangers. We are light bearers and it's hard work. And even when when no human has seen, God has. He saw you let someone get in front of you in line at the grocery store. He saw you bite down on the nasty retort that was ready to come out of your mouth. He saw you get up in the middle of the night to care for your child or to check on your sick spouse. He saw how hard you worked today to say "no" to that person, place, or thing that wasn't good for you. He saw your hands fold laundry, cook dinner, or send that encouraging text. He heard us engage others when we really didn't even feel like talking. He LOVES our efforts. He is touched by our praises when we're hurting. He knows all we are holding inside and all we are putting ASIDE in order to make it and move on His behalf. He is IN us and beside us.
"So let's not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't give up." Galatians 6:9 Keep up the good work!
*To read Ron Ovitt's devotional entitled "What's the Use" in it's entirety go to:
https://devog.wordpress.com/2018/05/16/whats-the-use-5/
To order his devotional book entitled, "Moment in the Word" go to:
https://www.amazon.com/Moment-Word-Daily-Moments-That/dp/1973517922
Wednesday, May 16, 2018
Count It Joy
Thanking God for and rejoicing in our suffering can feel like a mighty stretch. In a culture that tells us to run FROM suffering as fast as we can into the arms of anything that will soothe, this rejoicing sounds absurd. Or, we may get a picture of the sad faced Christian reveling in his suffering, yet forcing a 60 watt strained smile as he strives for the special top bunk in heaven. I mean, what does this thanking and rejoicing look like and what is the point? Did God intend this for real?
I say a resounding "yes." It is not some wonderfully sounding scripture with no purpose. Consider Romans 5:2-5 "And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our suffering because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who he has given us." James 1:2 "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance."
I think for a long time these scriptures made me feel guilty. I got it, but I didn't really get it at all. I would test the waters, tentatively thanking God for different hardships because I thought I was supposed to. But, honestly it just didn't make a lot of sense to me. Something about it felt a little bit cruel, like maybe God had inflicted some pain on me intentionally and then I was supposed to look at Him with trust and thank Him for it. And, at other times, when life was going smoothly I thought maybe I was supposed to be suffering. Good Christians suffer, right?
This genuinely was a process for me. I can't say I got it overnight. It took experiencing for myself the truth of those scriptures, over and over. And, over. It took seeing and FEELING the results of moving through pain WITH God. Not next to Him. I mean, WITH Him. There is something about blindly trekking through the mud at night, slipping, falling, and continually grabbing the hand of Jesus to get yourself upright again, that brings endurance with hope. Try this by yourself and what you'll get is exhaustion without hope. Same muddy path, just very different process and outcomes.
Imagine you have a daughter leaving for her first year of college. You want everything good for her and you hope you've taught her the life skills and faith she needs to make it through some sure to be rough adjustments. Isn't that one of the best gifts you could give her? This hardly compares to the molding process God guides us through but it helps put it in perspective. The trials hurt. Sometimes they feel unbearable. But, the joy comes from knowing that this isn't all there is. There is no pain with a period at the end. There is always more.
The other day, for the first time in a long time, I thanked God for the struggles I was going through and I actually meant it. I meant it because deep in my heart of hearts I could feel the deepening of perseverance, my character and hope. I had hope and it wasn't based on anything I could see. It felt like a treasure chest buried deep inside of my core that God was slowly filling; a treasure that couldn't be explained, only experienced. If I want to be a better wife, mother, friend, servant in ministry, and soldier, then I better learn what it means to count my struggles and testing as joy. I can do this only through and by the Holy Spirit who gives me the hope that my suffering is never a waste. I don't have to pretend anything. I don't have to be a martyr or a victim. I know that God isn't a mean punisher. Suffering by itself does not make for the good Christian, whatever that is anyway, because there is no God in that equation.
The world DISABLES us by telling us our struggles and trials should be eradicated because they are bad. We should be unhappy about it and do whatever possible to get out of it. This isn't to say there aren't healthy solutions, but NONE that compare to the refinement of Jesus Christ. He ENABLES us by giving us the supernatural ability to feel and verbally express joy as we move through the pain of our trials. It is other worldly. It's what builds the best armies that stand the test of time. It is what develops perseverance, character and hope and I don't know about you, but I need that in my life and I'm going to do my best to seek it.
Hang in there with me, my brothers and sisters. Weak and weary are okay and so is falling and even crawling. The point is to know there is more. Grasp His hand and let His power pull you up. Feel His love for you. Know you are being strengthened for purpose and let yourself experience the joy of that knowledge. This will grow you and bring you closer to God in ways you couldn't imagine.
You are dearly loved.
I say a resounding "yes." It is not some wonderfully sounding scripture with no purpose. Consider Romans 5:2-5 "And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our suffering because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who he has given us." James 1:2 "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance."
I think for a long time these scriptures made me feel guilty. I got it, but I didn't really get it at all. I would test the waters, tentatively thanking God for different hardships because I thought I was supposed to. But, honestly it just didn't make a lot of sense to me. Something about it felt a little bit cruel, like maybe God had inflicted some pain on me intentionally and then I was supposed to look at Him with trust and thank Him for it. And, at other times, when life was going smoothly I thought maybe I was supposed to be suffering. Good Christians suffer, right?
This genuinely was a process for me. I can't say I got it overnight. It took experiencing for myself the truth of those scriptures, over and over. And, over. It took seeing and FEELING the results of moving through pain WITH God. Not next to Him. I mean, WITH Him. There is something about blindly trekking through the mud at night, slipping, falling, and continually grabbing the hand of Jesus to get yourself upright again, that brings endurance with hope. Try this by yourself and what you'll get is exhaustion without hope. Same muddy path, just very different process and outcomes.
Imagine you have a daughter leaving for her first year of college. You want everything good for her and you hope you've taught her the life skills and faith she needs to make it through some sure to be rough adjustments. Isn't that one of the best gifts you could give her? This hardly compares to the molding process God guides us through but it helps put it in perspective. The trials hurt. Sometimes they feel unbearable. But, the joy comes from knowing that this isn't all there is. There is no pain with a period at the end. There is always more.
The other day, for the first time in a long time, I thanked God for the struggles I was going through and I actually meant it. I meant it because deep in my heart of hearts I could feel the deepening of perseverance, my character and hope. I had hope and it wasn't based on anything I could see. It felt like a treasure chest buried deep inside of my core that God was slowly filling; a treasure that couldn't be explained, only experienced. If I want to be a better wife, mother, friend, servant in ministry, and soldier, then I better learn what it means to count my struggles and testing as joy. I can do this only through and by the Holy Spirit who gives me the hope that my suffering is never a waste. I don't have to pretend anything. I don't have to be a martyr or a victim. I know that God isn't a mean punisher. Suffering by itself does not make for the good Christian, whatever that is anyway, because there is no God in that equation.
The world DISABLES us by telling us our struggles and trials should be eradicated because they are bad. We should be unhappy about it and do whatever possible to get out of it. This isn't to say there aren't healthy solutions, but NONE that compare to the refinement of Jesus Christ. He ENABLES us by giving us the supernatural ability to feel and verbally express joy as we move through the pain of our trials. It is other worldly. It's what builds the best armies that stand the test of time. It is what develops perseverance, character and hope and I don't know about you, but I need that in my life and I'm going to do my best to seek it.
Hang in there with me, my brothers and sisters. Weak and weary are okay and so is falling and even crawling. The point is to know there is more. Grasp His hand and let His power pull you up. Feel His love for you. Know you are being strengthened for purpose and let yourself experience the joy of that knowledge. This will grow you and bring you closer to God in ways you couldn't imagine.
You are dearly loved.
Sunday, May 13, 2018
Miracle Maker
I've been feeling lately like I need to be reminded that God IS in the miracle business. Our western culture puts Him in a box way too often. I put Him in a box way too often. We squeeze out prayers in hopes that God hears. We make do. We settle for less. We look at our situation and think there is no way out. We cannot conceive of waters parting. The lame walking. An elderly woman having a baby. A virgin conceiving. Food multiplying. We believe it, but in some sort of detached way that says that was then, this is now.
It is easy to feel skeptical or even afraid. How about when we are bold and storm the throne with confidence, believing every single thing we're asking for? And, then we wait. And, nothing happens. And we wait, and the situation gets worse. Or, we wait, and our loved one dies. We can feel confused. Disillusioned. Betrayed. Angry. Hopeless. Or, even guilty. Maybe we didn't have enough faith. Or, punished? For all the things we've done wrong. It IS hard to trust and have faith, most especially when we can't see or when what we do see looks hopeless. And, it can be hard when we've been hurt in the past by others we put our trust in. We can't bare the thought of trusting again, even in God.
I've come to a place in my relationship with God where I just have to get it out there with Him. If I have questions, I ask Him. If I don't understand, I seek Him. When I need wisdom, I ask for it. When I'm raging, I do it WITH Him. When I'm discouraged, I draw on my praise of Him. When I'm tired and afraid at night, I ask Him to place me under the shadow of His wings. When I have no words, I open His and I read. I study. I grapple. Sometimes with complete hunger. Sometimes, feeling nothing but numbness. Sometimes, with peace and joy. But, people are dying for owning a Bible in other oppressed countries and we're dying in this country because we're not opening the one we're allowed to own! (I preach to myself here. Make no mistake about the things I write. I'm always talking to myself). So often my prayer is that God will help me operate within the sphere of the Holy Spirit ALL day. And, I imagine myself walking, talking, feeling, and acting all inside this sphere, empowered ONLY by the Holy Spirit. This is for ALL of us! We have access to Him anywhere, anytime. We don't have to get right before we talk with God. What in the world does "right" mean anyway and who holds the measuring stick? You can toss that lie out right now.
About 12 years ago or so, I was a stay at home mom with three smaller kids. My husband was slow with work and money was tight for us. It was a Sunday night and I was trying to think of what to serve for lunch the next day as I had invited two friends over for lunch. These happened to be friends who were going through a rough time and I wanted to make it nice for them - a respite. I asked my husband for some cash and he gave me two $20 bills folded in half. Those were the days when overalls were in style (man, I still miss those) and I remember clearly that I folded the bills and stuck them in my right pocket. On the way to the grocery store, I was alone, and prayed out loud in the car that God would help me stretch that money in such a way that would ONLY be possible with Him. I was bold with the request that night.
As I walked the isles I began mentally adding up my items but soon lost track of where I was. By the time I got to the check-out isle I was feeling a little anxious that I had gone over my $40 and would have to put some items back. It was a crappy and shameful feeling for me. That, I do remember. As my items started going over the $40, I started thinking about what I could put back, feeling disappointed in God because it appeared He hadn't stretched anything for me. It came to $59 and some change. I reached into my pocket, opened the bills, and there were THREE 20's folded over, NOT two like my husband had given me. $60!! Let me interrupt myself right here for all the skeptics. When you don't have a lot of money, you know darn well how much you have in your pocket. I'm telling you, I left my house with $40.
I counted my $60 a few times just to make sure because I was a bit incredulous. My eyes welled with tears as I handed the cashier the money and she gave me my change back. Did you catch that? I EVEN HAD CHANGE! I cried the whole way to the car. But, in my humanness, I called my husband and asked him how much he had given me. I had to make sure! I was still a tiny bit doubtful. Was this a miracle or not? He thought about it for a second and told me he gave me $40 because he saved some for himself to get gas. I then shared the story with him and he too, was amazed.
I knew in the depths of my heart that God had given me a miracle. On an ordinary day. For a seemingly ordinary lunch. Wearing very ordinary overalls. There were no bursts of flames or heavy winds. No thunder and lightening. And, there was no audience. Just me and an extraordinarily profound extra $20 bill. Even the cashier had no idea. But, I did and I committed that night to memory knowing that I would never forget it and that I'd tell the story whenever called to. And, tonight, on this Mother's Day 2018 I'm retelling it. I'm not even sure why. But, someone needs to know. Miracles aren't for those "other people." They are for you and me. Don't be afraid to pray big. Don't be afraid to hope for what looks and feels hopeless. We're going to have trouble in this life. That is no surprise. Jesus even tells us that in John 16:33 but then He goes on to encourage us to cheer up because He has overcome the world. Don't let the fear of things not working out keep you from boldly asking God for help. There is richness in the asking. God treasures your faith. And, I say with confidence that miracles DO happen.
If you feel led to, I'd love to hear your own stories of how God has worked in your life. Feel free to leave a comment.
It is easy to feel skeptical or even afraid. How about when we are bold and storm the throne with confidence, believing every single thing we're asking for? And, then we wait. And, nothing happens. And we wait, and the situation gets worse. Or, we wait, and our loved one dies. We can feel confused. Disillusioned. Betrayed. Angry. Hopeless. Or, even guilty. Maybe we didn't have enough faith. Or, punished? For all the things we've done wrong. It IS hard to trust and have faith, most especially when we can't see or when what we do see looks hopeless. And, it can be hard when we've been hurt in the past by others we put our trust in. We can't bare the thought of trusting again, even in God.
I've come to a place in my relationship with God where I just have to get it out there with Him. If I have questions, I ask Him. If I don't understand, I seek Him. When I need wisdom, I ask for it. When I'm raging, I do it WITH Him. When I'm discouraged, I draw on my praise of Him. When I'm tired and afraid at night, I ask Him to place me under the shadow of His wings. When I have no words, I open His and I read. I study. I grapple. Sometimes with complete hunger. Sometimes, feeling nothing but numbness. Sometimes, with peace and joy. But, people are dying for owning a Bible in other oppressed countries and we're dying in this country because we're not opening the one we're allowed to own! (I preach to myself here. Make no mistake about the things I write. I'm always talking to myself). So often my prayer is that God will help me operate within the sphere of the Holy Spirit ALL day. And, I imagine myself walking, talking, feeling, and acting all inside this sphere, empowered ONLY by the Holy Spirit. This is for ALL of us! We have access to Him anywhere, anytime. We don't have to get right before we talk with God. What in the world does "right" mean anyway and who holds the measuring stick? You can toss that lie out right now.
About 12 years ago or so, I was a stay at home mom with three smaller kids. My husband was slow with work and money was tight for us. It was a Sunday night and I was trying to think of what to serve for lunch the next day as I had invited two friends over for lunch. These happened to be friends who were going through a rough time and I wanted to make it nice for them - a respite. I asked my husband for some cash and he gave me two $20 bills folded in half. Those were the days when overalls were in style (man, I still miss those) and I remember clearly that I folded the bills and stuck them in my right pocket. On the way to the grocery store, I was alone, and prayed out loud in the car that God would help me stretch that money in such a way that would ONLY be possible with Him. I was bold with the request that night.
As I walked the isles I began mentally adding up my items but soon lost track of where I was. By the time I got to the check-out isle I was feeling a little anxious that I had gone over my $40 and would have to put some items back. It was a crappy and shameful feeling for me. That, I do remember. As my items started going over the $40, I started thinking about what I could put back, feeling disappointed in God because it appeared He hadn't stretched anything for me. It came to $59 and some change. I reached into my pocket, opened the bills, and there were THREE 20's folded over, NOT two like my husband had given me. $60!! Let me interrupt myself right here for all the skeptics. When you don't have a lot of money, you know darn well how much you have in your pocket. I'm telling you, I left my house with $40.
I counted my $60 a few times just to make sure because I was a bit incredulous. My eyes welled with tears as I handed the cashier the money and she gave me my change back. Did you catch that? I EVEN HAD CHANGE! I cried the whole way to the car. But, in my humanness, I called my husband and asked him how much he had given me. I had to make sure! I was still a tiny bit doubtful. Was this a miracle or not? He thought about it for a second and told me he gave me $40 because he saved some for himself to get gas. I then shared the story with him and he too, was amazed.
I knew in the depths of my heart that God had given me a miracle. On an ordinary day. For a seemingly ordinary lunch. Wearing very ordinary overalls. There were no bursts of flames or heavy winds. No thunder and lightening. And, there was no audience. Just me and an extraordinarily profound extra $20 bill. Even the cashier had no idea. But, I did and I committed that night to memory knowing that I would never forget it and that I'd tell the story whenever called to. And, tonight, on this Mother's Day 2018 I'm retelling it. I'm not even sure why. But, someone needs to know. Miracles aren't for those "other people." They are for you and me. Don't be afraid to pray big. Don't be afraid to hope for what looks and feels hopeless. We're going to have trouble in this life. That is no surprise. Jesus even tells us that in John 16:33 but then He goes on to encourage us to cheer up because He has overcome the world. Don't let the fear of things not working out keep you from boldly asking God for help. There is richness in the asking. God treasures your faith. And, I say with confidence that miracles DO happen.
If you feel led to, I'd love to hear your own stories of how God has worked in your life. Feel free to leave a comment.
Saturday, May 12, 2018
Treasure In The Following
Yesterday, I accompanied a resident to court in regard to a restraining order. The courthouse is not my favorite place. In fact, I can't stand it there. The place always seems to be filled with fear and intimidation and if I'm not careful, I find it creeps into my pores. Cell phones weren't allowed so the two and a half hours I sat there felt long. Thankfully, I had thought to take a notebook and I had several devotionals in my purse. I ended up reading through a week's worth while I sat there and the contrast of the words with the atmosphere was sharp. My heart went out to the resident who went through waves of anxiety with legs shaking and eyes averted to the ground.
I had time to look around and hear several cases. For the hundredth time or more, I thought about how pain does not discriminate. There were men and women, young and old, different races, and different presentations; and lots of absentees. I imagine many a restraining order or stalking charge has been filed in the heat of the moment only to be reconsidered later, right or wrongly, once the heat died.
As I read through the devotionals, I stopped a few times and silently prayed, especially for the resident I was with. Her parents had met us and I could feel their unease at being there as well. I also felt the profound protection they had for their daughter. At one point, I could not look up because my eyes had welled with tears. I was overcome with emotion as I felt a deep humility and respect for all the places God had put me in service to Him. Front row seats to some of people's most private and sacred pain. Mess ups. Trauma. Failures. Grief and shame. Shattered dreams. Self harm wounds. Cries for relief by death. Health issues. Broken relationships. Secrets - so many secrets. Even literal suitcases of personal belongings. Addiction. Poverty of the soul and the bank account. No shoes. No home. Death. All bared open. It's absolutely humbling. And painful. Exhausting. But, all an honor because I KNOW God has me in the trenches with a power that is no way, shape or form my own. And because, He has comforted me more times than I can ever count. He has washed away my shame, been trustworthy with my secrets, and ministered to my broken heart. He's not afraid of any of it. He is in fact, very close to the broken-hearted and won't hesitate to walk inside darkness or filth for us. There is no stench too great. He'll climb all the stairs to find us. With tenderness He will pick us up from the floor and cradle us. He is our Jesus. Our living Savior.
So, I tried hard to keep my tears in check. And, God read my mind that I would do it all again and that I would continue going where and doing what He wanted me to. Blindly. Stumbling. Unsure. And willing. Not because of me, ALL because of HIM. Because to follow Him is treasure. Deep and unsearchable. Uncertain and winding, yes. Costly, yes. Painful, yes. But, joyous. Crazy joyous. Crazy, CRAZY joyous! And, I'm a brave coward in training. Make no mistake. That part is true. But, I'm getting trained by the BEST. The ONLY! And, when my feet slip on the track, He's there. And when the coward gets bigger than the brave, He's still there. May I run with perseverance the race God has set before me.
No matter your past or present, go and be used in the places God has put you. You're not alone. His power is made perfect in our weakness. His grace is sufficient.
I had time to look around and hear several cases. For the hundredth time or more, I thought about how pain does not discriminate. There were men and women, young and old, different races, and different presentations; and lots of absentees. I imagine many a restraining order or stalking charge has been filed in the heat of the moment only to be reconsidered later, right or wrongly, once the heat died.
As I read through the devotionals, I stopped a few times and silently prayed, especially for the resident I was with. Her parents had met us and I could feel their unease at being there as well. I also felt the profound protection they had for their daughter. At one point, I could not look up because my eyes had welled with tears. I was overcome with emotion as I felt a deep humility and respect for all the places God had put me in service to Him. Front row seats to some of people's most private and sacred pain. Mess ups. Trauma. Failures. Grief and shame. Shattered dreams. Self harm wounds. Cries for relief by death. Health issues. Broken relationships. Secrets - so many secrets. Even literal suitcases of personal belongings. Addiction. Poverty of the soul and the bank account. No shoes. No home. Death. All bared open. It's absolutely humbling. And painful. Exhausting. But, all an honor because I KNOW God has me in the trenches with a power that is no way, shape or form my own. And because, He has comforted me more times than I can ever count. He has washed away my shame, been trustworthy with my secrets, and ministered to my broken heart. He's not afraid of any of it. He is in fact, very close to the broken-hearted and won't hesitate to walk inside darkness or filth for us. There is no stench too great. He'll climb all the stairs to find us. With tenderness He will pick us up from the floor and cradle us. He is our Jesus. Our living Savior.
So, I tried hard to keep my tears in check. And, God read my mind that I would do it all again and that I would continue going where and doing what He wanted me to. Blindly. Stumbling. Unsure. And willing. Not because of me, ALL because of HIM. Because to follow Him is treasure. Deep and unsearchable. Uncertain and winding, yes. Costly, yes. Painful, yes. But, joyous. Crazy joyous. Crazy, CRAZY joyous! And, I'm a brave coward in training. Make no mistake. That part is true. But, I'm getting trained by the BEST. The ONLY! And, when my feet slip on the track, He's there. And when the coward gets bigger than the brave, He's still there. May I run with perseverance the race God has set before me.
No matter your past or present, go and be used in the places God has put you. You're not alone. His power is made perfect in our weakness. His grace is sufficient.
Friday, May 4, 2018
Real To Me
Time and again You have lifted me. My go-to. Who else can see the crown of my head and the soles of my feet at the same time but the One who sees me.
My thoughts of peace ramming against jagged edges. Desperate to help the helpless. Desperate to help myself. Climbing and sliding. Climbing and being pulled out. Who else truly celebrates with me the celebrations unseen but by You. Those sweet victories. The kindnesses. You touch the yearning, understanding what I don't. Memories locked. Sensitive to what seems absent. And, so witty you are. Making fun, knowing what I can handle. Real and within a secure grasp, yet out of this world, holy and magnificent, just plain beyond.
I have tears as I write because you are alive and I get to know that. I get to belong to you and even know you on some plain.
The grace. Always there for me when I look to you, knowing full well there is nothing deserving. Given freely, even pouring over me til about flattened. Then I rise and breathe. And, I see and hear. This doesn't end. All the days of my life. Whether minute or hour or days, this is all I go through with you like a swirling wind. You're a for-sure in me. A pursuer of my heart. An I-am-able-equipper.
Amazing, that all that lives bows before you and rises at your glory, and yet my tiny is deeply known. Everything right rests in You.
As I swim through and through toward your brilliance, the rest loses power and fades to a barely perceptible shadow. Adoration of you lifts me higher. So grateful and humbled. You light up my life. Thankful you take me as is, again and again. My God. MY GOD. You're so real to me.
Written by,
Dee M. Kostelyk
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