the most intimate part of your life

Have you felt the presence of the Holy Spirit? I hope you have. If not, I pray you will open your heart and mind to God and allow Him to be near you, even in and through and on and over and around you. When you feel this, I promise it will be an addictive High you'll pursue again and again for the rest of your life. God sent His Son Jesus to be born a human, live a difficult and painful life, die a tortured death, and be raised again to open the possibility for us to house a perfect Spirit in our redeemed bodies through His precious blood. For His saved children, this Spirit is always present, but I find myself getting much too caught up in and pulled down by life to feel Who I know is there. Can you relate?

"Don't grieve God. Don't break His heart. His Holy Spirit, moving and breathing in you, is the most intimate part of your life, making you fit for Himself. Don't take such a gift for granted." - Ephesians 4:30 (Msg.)

Alright, Spirit - I'm Yours. Come through me today. Breathe light in me again. I'm surrendered to You, reaching for You, moved by nothing and no one but Your presence. The most intimate part of my life.

Thankful list continued . . .

Because His grace just keeps coming . . .

- for the Blood and the Body - spilled and broken for me. And for the cup and the bread of remembrance. It is my Portion and it is Enough.


- for rain, as painful as it is. I choose to rejoice in this day the Lord has made. Yes, even this one.


- for windows. Let in the light and the view, keep out the painful chill. What a perfect barrier. Would that they made windows for my heart.


- for food tomorrow. Not everyone has it to put on the table.


- for freedom, so costly, so precious. To come and go, to work and earn, to live and love - all without fear for my life or my safety. Thank you, Jesus, Noah (my Navy-boy brother), and all of our service men and women.


- for light-hearted notes passed between my two small people under their bedroom doors last night. I love the way they love each other.


- for you. It's nice to be heard and read by friends. Thank you for seeing me.


More tomorrow . . . (unless I get too swamped in the kitchen to turn on the computer - *wink*)

I'd like to slow down

This time of year, I can't help but step on my imaginary time brakes and try to halt everything.

You know what? Imaginary brakes don't slow down a thing!

So, here's my rebellion against the rush. I'm going to post a list of stuff I'm thankful for. No Christmas lists. For me or others. Not because I won't give or receive or have a good time doing both in celebration of the Birth of my King. No, not that. It's because being thankful should take as long as it takes. Here goes:

- for songs like this one that draw my heart higher to Him, no matter how low it has sunk

- for the opportunity to write with two friends this morning, and be unexpectedly refreshed in that redeeming chance

- for the way He loves me even when I feel unlovable

- for a husband who offers me comfort, even in his own pain

- for friends who give me time to be quiet, a mentor who understands when I double-book myself and have to reschedule, and other friends who answer a desperate text in the middle of the night

- for courage to do what needs to be done

- for a daughter who cares about excellence in all she does, and a son who just wants to give others joy

- for generous people who spoil me often, not just on December 25th

- for technology - a beloved chain, I know; I'm thankful nonetheless

- for a furnace in my home and my workplace to warm me in this weather and temperature that stabs me in the back every year, no matter how hard I try to embrace it head-on

- for a little bit of energy left to give; just enough for each day

- for this song too, which brought needed tears to the surface today

Won't you be thankful with me this week?

I love you, friends. I'm especially thankful for you.

when it's hard to give

"Sometimes it's hard to give." -Cynthia Aldrich, Missionary to Haiti as we rushed around her table at dusk trying to get the right sizes of baby clothes to mothers waiting outside her gate.

So when is it too hard to give? When do you stop giving because it gets too complicated? Is it when the people in need are starting to abuse your generosity and rely less on God and their own part? When is the moment when giving gets too difficult to keep giving?

I just want to throw this out there. Argue with me if you must.

Sometimes it's hard to give, but it's never too hard. We keep on giving.

It was hard for God to give. Does that shock you? Do you think it was easy for Him to give manna and quail to his whiney, gripe-y kids? You assume ease for Him to deliver His people into the land of milk and honey, defeating tribe after tribe, just so they would turn away from Him and worship the very idols He hated? You don't think God has feelings too? Think again.

In the book of Hosea, God laments to betrayal of His people as they had turned away from Him to worship other gods and had abandoned His love and plan for them. He demonstrated it through the prophet, asking Hosea to marry a prostitute as an object lesson to the people. Being the obedient man of God, Hosea took Gomer as his wife, who subsequently left him to go back to her life of sin.

" 'I will punish her for all those times when she burned incense to her images of Baal, when she put on her earrings and jewels and went out to look for her lovers but forgot all about me,' says the Lord." -Hosea 2:13 (NLT)

But God had Hosea rescue her again, proving his love for her and His love for all of us, His Bride.

" 'But then I will win her back once again. I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her there . . . I will make you my wife forever, showing you righteousness and justice, unfailing love and compassion. I will be faithful to you and make you mine, and you will finally know me as the Lord.' " -vs. 19-20

God gave. And then He gave again. And then He gave some more. His people have never been thankful enough, myself included. I've trampled the Cross in disobedience and thought He would be done giving me grace. It was hard for Him, but He gave once again. His mercy is not cheap. The high price of His blood is no small trinket, rather the greatest gift ever known. And on my face before Him, He gave it again. It is in His character and nature to give and keep giving, no matter how hard it gets or how complicated people make it.

And so we should do likewise. To one another. To the poor. To missions. To the broken-hearted. To prisoners. Give, and never stop. Like Him.

I know some of you have been waiting for me to blog about my trip to Haiti. I'm getting there. It's just hard right now. There's so much to think about. Too much to process. The conclusions I come to one day seem wrong the next. The answers in my head are too complicated for words, and sometimes it feels really frustrating to try to explain something that can only be experienced. Usually words are enough for me to do anything. Language is something I can wield under normal circumstances. Not so this week. The truth, if you care to know, is that I lost all of my pictures on accident. I've come to grips with the fact that others took pictures and that will have to be enough. For now, I'll leave you with this one that Pastor Jamie took. It's what I'm doing still. Be patient with me? Thank you for the grace. It's more than I deserve.

not going back

It's not always easy to live by faith and not by sight. It takes serious effort. And sometimes it takes choosing blindness to certain things so that your eyes can be opened to the things of God. Rules and religious laws have had to become blind spots for me. I've needed to stop focusing on striving for impressing God or others, and turn my sights on letting Him live His resurrected life through me.

"So I quit being a 'law man' so that I could be God's man. Christ's life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not 'mine' but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going back on that." - Galatians 2:19-20 (Msg)


The more we mature into this life of Grace Reversal God has called us to, the more we realize that the power to live in Him comes through Him. I have a few more prepositions to add, so bear with me. Salvation comes from Him, not from ourselves, so we must leave behind all notions of earning goodness and favor from ourselves and the things we do. Because of the Cross, not only are we now with Christ, we are in Him. A part of who He is, grafted in by mercy, welcomed in with open arms. So our lives are also for Him, lived in cooperation with the Holy Spirit to be more like Him, living like its all about Him.

I want to see Him through, in, about, from, and around me. His life lived through mine.

Yes, Jesus.

a heaviness

I know I'm not the only one who has felt this way before. Life gets heavy. It feels dark, and Satan threatens to rob it of all light. And I know it's a battle in the war of good and evil, but I'm wounded and it's hard to stand right now. Jesus beckons from across the field to the safe bunker, but it seems so far away. My body is aching today, and I have a hunch it might be due to the fact that I'm carrying too much of this. I need to lay it at His feet. But sometimes I don't know how. Sometimes He's so near but I still can't reach Him. I know I need to learn how to kneel before Him and surrender. Un-shoulder the pain. Un-strap the heaviness. Can we learn together?

"Can anything ever separate us from Christ's love? Does it mean He no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death?" -Romans 8:35 (NLT)

"Give your burdens to the LORD, and He will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall. But You, O God will send the wicked down the the pit of destruction. Murderers and liars will die young, but I am trusting you to save me." -Psalm 55: 22-23 (NLT)

Father, I feel this weight that is not mine. I choose to let it go. I don't want the pain of it in me and on me. I know You can take it from me if I let You. So I do. Jesus, let me sit here a little longer, please. My head in your lap and your hands pulling the heaviness off my shoulders. I know you want me to cry with those who cry and sing with those who sing, and I do. The privilege of those things brings a smile to my face and to Yours. But when my enemy comes in the middle of the tears and feeds us all lies I don't have the strength to fight him. Be my strength, Spirit. Make me able in my inability. Lift my chin when that liar punches my face again with his schemes and dirty hopeless tricks. My hands are open to your gifts and your grace. You fill my cup with more love, and then I see that it overflows. You call me off the battlefield to bind my wounds and send me back out for more of that murderer's blood. Though I can't quite see it yet, the victory is already Yours.

who am I?

Who am I to be here? To draw breath in a place where the air is so sweet and fresh? To have all I have? To be given such love to pour out? To have strength and health and nourishment? Who am I? I'm a nobody.
I didn't earn this. Not a speck of it. All is a gift. "All's Grace" (Ann Voskamp)
And I'm humbled. Because it's too much.
And I guess that's where He wants me. On my knees, open hands raised, reaching to receive and working to pour it out. It's why I was made - the reason these muscles and bones and neurons were formed and weaved. For this.
I'm humbled. Humble. Unworthy, yet made worthy by His Righteousness imbued.
"Those who are left will be the lowly and humble, for it is they who trust in the Name of the LORD." -Zephaniah 3:12 (NLT)
Who am I? Oh, Jesus, I'm no one. But You have made me a someone. By Your blood you rescued and redeemed and transformed me. And now my identity is simple - I'm Yours. No more, no less. And today I'm humbled again. Just as yesterday. As the day You saved me.

To be known as thankful

I follow Jesus, and I call myself a Christ-follower.

It's who I am. And who I am dictates what I do. I am a follower. I follow. By choice and willing surrender to what would otherwise be an easy surrender to selfish sin. But knowing Jesus cultivates a desire to please Him. To find out what He wants and then go in that direction.

Recently I'm learning more and more that what He wants is my thankfulness. For the good, the bad, and the hard. Forever thankful for Him and this life allowed by Grace.

"Do I eat the meat of bulls? Do I drink the blood of goats?

Make thankfulness your sacrifice to God, and keep the vows you made to the Most High.

Then call on me when you are in trouble and I will rescue you, and you will give Me glory.

. . .

But giving thanks is a sacrifice that truly honors me.

If you keep to my path, I will reveal to you the salvation of God." - Psalm 50: 13-15, 23

If I need anything from Him, I must be living in thanksgiving. In the lifestyle of it. The day-in and day-out thanks for love and mercy and grace and kisses and coffee and raindrops.

I'm asking God for some big things this month. I'll be in Haiti in less than 24 days.

I'm asking Him for a lot of things. And He is providing them, bit by bit.

My only response, my natural and chosen reaction -

Thank You. Thank You, Lord. You are Good. I see that you love me. If You never give me another thing, not one more morsel or a single other breath, You have given me more than Enough. You deserve Glory. I'll not leave it unsaid. Not ever. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You.

Portion Control

I like how Jesus tells us to live as if He is enough.

So why does it seem like He isn't sometimes?

This morning I woke up with a song in my head, as I often do. It was "Healer" by Kari Jobe.

I believe . . . You're my Healer

I believe . . . You are all I need

I believe . . . You're my Portion

I believe . . . You're more than enough for me

Jesus You're all I need.

And the part that struck me anew was the part about Him being my Portion. A portion is what you have on you plate. The measure you consume that sustains you for now. In the Bible it also implies the land you posses or your inheritance. So it's what you have for today and what is yours for tomorrow.

What if all I had was Him?

To breathe. To consume. To own. To keep. To lie down in. To drink from. To have.

Only Him.

Would I complain? What would I do?

For many believers around the world, Jesus is all they have. They have so much of Him, and not much, if anything else. These people know what it is to say, as Jeremiah did, "I say to myself, the LORD is my portion, therefore I will wait for Him." (NIV)

I also like it in the Message: "I'm sticking with God . . . He's all I've got."

Today I have a new line. It's a life-changer, I think. "You are my Portion."

"Oh, Jesus - if you don't fix this, I choose to be thankful because I have You, and You are my Portion."

"Lord, I need that, but if I don't get it, I still have You. You are my Portion."

"God I'm believing you for miracles. But if not - You alone are my Portion."

He will be enough for today. Enough for tomorrow. Enough for forever.

Jesus You are my Portion.

Does it count?

I've had some big questions for God in my life. Why? Why me? Where do you want me? How do I deal with that? What do you expect of me? What do you want from me? How can I do what counts? What does count in your eyes, anyway?
Sometimes I find the answers and sometimes I don't. And it's not like He's not always answering. But sometimes I'm not listening. Or I'm not watching. Or I don't wait long enough. Or I talk over Him. But recently I've been asking that last one a lot. And one of my favorite things in life is when I ask God a question, and then I read the answer when I open the Bible. It never gets old. So check out this black and white:
"The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."-Galatians 5:6 (NIV)
Yeah. Thanks, Jesus. I read you loud and clear.
I don't have to ask how to do that any more. Not only have I received that from others, I've had over fifteen years of practice doing that. And not that I've perfected it, but I do know it. So now that I know WHAT counts and HOW to do it, the matter is in the doing. And not just today or yesterday, but faith expressed through love tomorrow and next week and next year and until I die. Faith expressed through love to him and her and them and the lost and the flock and broken and those who want it and those who don't. When it benefits me and when it hurts me. When I'm filled and when I'm empty. Faith expressed through love. Loving words and loving actions backing them up. Love unconditional and love regardless. For the lovable and even more for the unlovable. For now and for the future and for eternity.
It's the only thing that does count.

open hands

I open my hands

Lift them high to you

Worship, Surrender, Desire

More of You

Less of me

Fill these hands

Fill this heart

Overflowing

Overcome

Now pour me out

Empty my hands

Help me to give

Unashamed, unafraid, unselfish

Humble, "it's not me, but Him"

I poured it out

only those hands were closed

and now

it's all over the ground

Your precious Gift

and how is that not a waste?

How do I try again?

Why should I, anyway?

His answer a jagged pill . . .

medicine nonetheless -

satisfaction, satiation comes in obedience

your food to do My will

consume and be satisfied in Me

you don't choose for them

I have more where that came from

open your hands again.

I am hungry and afraid

But, (sigh)

If you say so, I will

Here are my open hands, Father

Fill me again

new every day

Today is a new day.

Yesterday is not worth sulking over, regretting, or mourning, when today is so beautiful.

God's mercy, His forgiveness, His grace - all new today.

I'll never have enough room to receive it if my hands are full of yesterday. But, oh, do I try sometimes. I take all of my failures and clench them tightly, hoping that in so doing, I'll squeeze my own reasoning into the juice of different results. Only, it never really works that way. To be honest, the only change I've ever experienced in life came when I opened my hands to God's stripping, crucifying truth. The kind that surrenders and the kind that repents to turn, not to regret. And all of that involves open hands.

Hands open to whatever God gives - today.

Unfortunately, we resist this open-handed living too many days.

"This is the way of religion today. People do not know where they are, they do not know where they have been, they do not know why they are here, they do not know where they are going; and they do the whole thing on borrowed time, borrowed money, borrowed thinking, and then die." - A.W. Tozer.

So sad. Too sad. And TODAY, I say - not me!

I know where I am, I know who I am, I know who Jesus is, and I will live this day to serve Him. I may not have tomorrow. I do not care. I definitely don't have yesterday. I will not dwell there.

And when I live with open hands, they become full, and being filled continuously.

I need never think they will be empty or stay empty as long as I serve the God I do.

"Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without His unfolding grace." - 2 Corinthians 4:16 (Msg).

His grace that unfolds into my hands, open.

And though He might ask me to give the grace to others, I will never be emptied of it completely if my hands stay lifted to Him - in worship, in surrender, in receiving.

He gives more every day. And yes, it is always new.

Redefining "Good"

About two months ago my daughter wrote something on a grocery list paper that I kept and hung on my refrigerator because of the profound and life-altering nature of it. Atop each piece of that pad of paper graces the words "Life is Good." A cartoon angel flies over the words carrying a bird house. Underneath those words she wrote "God is Good" as rebuttal (or so my mind imagines). I don't really know what she meant. I have yet to burst my bubble and ask her.

Recently I've been in a season of defining Good. Life doesn't often feel good, to be perfectly honest. It feels heavy when I look at my growing responsibilities and people who need to be pleased by me. It feels confining when I wake up from a dream of what I wish I could pursue. It feels painful when I seem to disappoint those who love me most. It feels unfair when I look at poverty and rape and trafficking and hungry orphans and abandoned women and murdered sons. It feels draining when I get lost in the piles of laundry and dishes and papers and "stuff." It feels frustrating when all I ever wanted was to help people, but people take every freedom of will to refuse the help I offer. Life mostly feels like everything but good.

And so when I read those words penned by still-pudgy-with-innocence fingers, I felt an earthquake in my spirit. It was a life-altering, moment-altar-ing shock. Sorting through the shifting, falling, scattered piles of papers on my kitchen-desk, I trashed old homework worksheets and re-piled bills and receipts and straightened half-written thoughts and prayers and half-accomplished to-do lists. I picked up her note and sat down, a little shaky or shaken, or both.

My heart cried out in agreement, "Of course! Life isn't always good, but God is!"

A few weeks later, though, I was questioning the goodness of God too. As followers of Christ, we surrender to the sovereignty of God - believing that He is indeed in control of us, our families, our lives, our pasts, and our futures. And if He is in control of all of that, and He is indeed good, shouldn't all of that be good too? My heart stomps a foot, demanding and defiant. "Oh, precious daughter, how faulty your small human logic," he whispers, and I balk, repentant.

A few days after His rebuke, I stumbled across a song by City Harmonic called I Am. The chorus repeats these phrases that hit me and comfort me and then hit me again.

"Oh, My God -

You are Good

You are Great

You are Love"

What IS good? What defines goodness? I ask Him one morning. How am I supposed to know what good is, when the things I would call good aren't what You have for me, and that which I would never call good are what you seem to put in my path? What is the definition of good, anyway?

His answer came in tenderness, as always. Let Me define and re-define good for you. I am the Author of life. My words alone hold authority and credence and authenticity. I alone understand goodness. I know Good, I do Good, I define Good, I AM Good.

And so I bowed my knees and my heart, and listened to His definition. It has come piecemeal over a season, but I continue to force my defiant fist into an openly raised hand and I keep driving my knees to the floor lest they break; and I once again clamp my complaining mouth and unlock my hurting heart to hear His terms.

"Taste and see that the Lord is good." -Psalm 34:8

"God saw that the light was good . . ." -Genesis 1:4

" . . . but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done . . ." -Genesis 50:20

" . . . no good thing does He withhold." -Psalm 84:11

" . . . but God disciplines us for our good . . ." -Hebrews 12:10

"You are good, and what you do is good . . ." -Psalm 119:68

"Woe to those who call evil good . . ." Isaiah 5:20

"There is only One who is good." Matthew 19:17

"I am the good Shepherd." -John 10:11

"Test everything. Hold on to the good." -1 Thessalonians 5:21

A friend gave me a book about keeping a list of thank-You's to God, and I received a message of God's goodness in common, yet amazingly glorious blessings. And my heart listened to His labelling and classification of Good. My own list grows even today.

This morning Jesus started my day with the story of Nebuchadnezzar's fall from sanity and return to reign seven years later, with a painful stint of beastly living in the wilderness. Daniel recounts the king's repentant song as this:

"Everything He does is right,

and He does it the right way.

He knows how to turn a proud person

into a humble man or woman." -Daniel 4: 37 (Msg)

I stop and stare at the words for extra seconds. He whispers again, I am good. I do good - every time. My definition of good is good in the end.

I smile and change the aphorism in my head.

"All's good that ends good."

Overcome

A word God has been echoing over and over to me in the past few weeks.

I hear it in songs, read it in the Word and in books I'm finishing. Every time it jumps into my spirit and stirs up something that feels like hope.

There are a few different original definitions I'm finding in my research, but two of my favorites are: boetheo -come to the rescue of; help; to run and meet an urgent distress call, as in battle. The verse where this is found is a prayer most of us have cried to Jesus at one point or another:

"The father instantly cried out, 'I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!' " - Mark 9:24 (NLT)

The other is nikao - prevail, overcome, conquer, be victorious, subdue (implying a battle)

This word is used more often, and one of my favorites is in John 16:33:

"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world" - (NLT)

I have faced some battles recently. Tough ones I would have rather run from than fight. Actually I did try to run away, tried to hide. The battle found me in my cave and came on stronger with fresh attack. I felt helpless and wounded, overwhelmed and defeated. I didn't want to struggle any longer. I was tired and angry and hurt.

But my Rescuer came to overcome for me. When I couldn't fight any more, He fought for me and won. He strengthened my limp arms and set my feet on a steady Rock, which was His Love. Have I faced trials an sorrows in life - of course. He knew we all would, and in some ways more than before I knew Him. Before I served Jesus, Satan was my ally. Once I chose Jesus Satan became my enemy. I had a brand new war to wage and overcome. Alone I'm helpless, but with Him I can. He will win this war, and every battle will be His to overcome. Hopelessness becomes Hope. Defeat turns into prevailing, overwhelming victory when I call on His assistance.

One of the songs God has echoed to me is from David Crowder - "SMS Shine"

"Hold me I need to feel love

Can You overcome this heart that's overcome"

When my heart has felt defeated and conquered, God has come to conquer the attack around me. He has swept me up in His arms, restored what was lost, healed my wounds, stopped my bleeding, and prevailed over my enemies. Overwhelmingly overcome.

Will there be more battles to fight, more enemies to engage? Of course. But what seems frightening in my future, is already accomplished in His usurping of time's boundaries. "I have overcome." It is already done and accomplished. Promise already fulfilled. Every battle - won in my favor. And the ultimate victory - He is coming again. My help is on the way. My future is secure in him.

I will win because He has won.

We overcome.

Taking off a few "fake" bricks

So I'm going to feel mostly like a hypocrite today because I built back up my wall yesterday with several (okay, quite a few) bricks. Not the unforgiveness bricks - those are still put far away. Not the protective bricks - I'm not really afraid you'll hurt me. No, a different kind of bricks.

They're what I call Mask Bricks. The kind I spackle on when I don't like who I am so I put on a mask and try to be a different woman. And the kind I build up when I'm putting on a fake smile when inside I'm crying. And the kind I have to put on to function normally when I'm expected to. Sadly, I most usually put these bricks on for work and for Church.

Some of this need to build a hiding wall comes from insecurities, and some of it comes from needing to be a functional human being when I'd rather withdraw into my own little world and be alone. Sometimes I wonder why God gave me an introvert personality, yet called me to live such an extroverted lifestyle and ministry.

And maybe you have some Mask Bricks too.

You know, the smile you wear over your tears so people won't worry and press. The "fine" reply when people ask how you're doing when you're feeling anything but. The way you get along with your spouse when others are around, but you were just ready to rip each other's heads off five minutes before in the car. The way you say some things to cover up the wounds, but you don't divulge everything because that would be admitting you were wrong. The way you avoid doing or saying certain things that would come naturally, but people have made fun of you for it before, and even though they were just joking, it still hurt. They may have even liked that about you, but you hate it and wish it were different so you try to change. The way you dress or decorate your house like another woman you'd rather be, when your tastes don't really fit those at all. And the you who is really you gets lost somewhere between the masks and the bricks and the mortar.

So now it's demolition time again, because being someone else does not glorify God, and neither does lying or pretending.

"Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ's body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other. In His grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well. So if God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out with as much faith as God has given you. If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well. If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly. Don't just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other." - Romans 12:4-10

I am special. You are special. We are each to serve our unique purpose with genuine love and affection for one another. We are to be authentic. Because it honors God and puts His desires first before our own. Yeah, I know - easier said than done.

But we can do it.

So today I will pray and ask God to help me. Help me say what needs to be said, even though it will expose my vulnerability. Being vulnerable is not equal to being weak. Vulnerability is an open door to genuine, authentic love. Vulnerability is an opportunity to be YOU. The real you. Vulnerability is the freedom to surrender control to God. Put the deck in His hands instead of trying to stack it in your favor.

And I will talk to Him about how He made me, and how there are some things I don't have a very good appreciation of when it comes to what He did "in my mother's womb." But maybe He can show me why He did that and why He treasures it. And maybe I'll learn to appreciate it too. And if I can appreciate it, then I can live it out rather than trying to hide it or change it or continue being insecure about it.

And when people ask how I am, I'll try my best not to give a flippant 'fine'. Depending on how much I trust them, I'll be as honest as possible and as vulnerable as I can.

Because I don't want to lose ME in my wall.

So down come the bricks again . . .

Preparing your heart to love without a wall

If you've missed the past couple of posts, please take a moment to go back so that this one will make more sense. If you've been following the past week, you may have been challenged by what God is speaking to us about living our lives without protective, lonely walls, and I pray that God will continue His good work to completion.

Today I'd like to continue sharing my demolition process . . .

After pulling down the insecurity bricks, I believe God spoke clearly to me about forgiveness. And this is anything but simple and easy. Forgiveness is painful, tumultuous, messy, and time-consuming. When it came to women, a few of whom I mentioned in the first 'walls' post, forgiving was frightening. If I let those wounds be healed, would that excuse their actions? Would it mean letting myself be re-exposed to the same treatment from other women? Would it be taking the blame on myself? These fears blocked my ability to forgive for too long. Because in the end it wasn't about them.

It was about cleansing my own heart before Jesus.

Because the bitterness I held onto, regardless of the source, was sinful black sludge. Because it made me a hypocrite - and an ugly one at that. Of course I had hurt other women, too. Was I innocent? NO! I had participated in gossip, rumors, slander, misunderstandings, assumptions, and rejection too. Intentionally and unintentionally. So for me to withhold forgiveness, yet ask for it from Him was nothing less than appalling! It made no sense to Jesus, and once my eyes were opened long enough to see it, it made no sense to me either. So I had to forgive. There was no other option.

"Make allowance for each other's faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others." - Colossians 3:13 (NLT)

In virtually every case, it was not even a conversation between me and another woman, but rather a discussion Jesus and I had. It went something like this -

Jesus: You need to take those unforgiveness bricks down off your wall.

Me: No, I don't think that's possible. I don't want to. I can't.

Jesus: They are doing more harm than good to you.

Me: But I can't go through that again. My bricks protect me.

Jesus: That's my job.

Me: I don't think you did a very good job last time.

Jesus: Don't blame me for her sin.

Me: Well . . .

Jesus: I did protect you. You don't know what could have happened if I had not stepped in when I did.

Me: I didn't think of that . . .

Jesus: I know what happened was ugly, but you need to give me a chance to show you the beautiful sculpture I'm making from the pieces of your broken heart.

Me: That sounds painful.

Jesus: Maybe, but what else are you going to do? Wallow in the dark? Keep bleeding in lonliness?

Me: Maybe . . .

Jesus: No. I have a better idea. Let me help you forgive her.

Me: I don't know . . . Does that make it acceptable?

Jesus: No, but it heals. It makes room for Me to show you Myself and My Goodness. It is your surrender to let Me do what I need to do. Forgiveness covers - it is Love. Forgiveness is opening your clenched fists and putting the act of exacting justice in My Hands, which is where it belongs. Vengence is not yours, never has been yours, and never will be. You will never be holy as long as you try to hold onto it.

Me: Well . . . alright, here You go.

Jesus: There's something you're holding in your other hand too. Hand that over as well.

Me: What's this?

Jesus: Pride.

Me: It doesn't look like pride.

Jesus: It is. You think you've never done this before? You think you're innocent in all of this? You're not. Do you want me to show you the pain she has, her wall?

Me: NO! No, please, I can't look at that. Don't show me that!

Jesus: Fine. Take my word for it, then.

Me: Okay, here you go.

Jesus: Good. Now . . . come here into My arms.

Me: I'm sorry. Forgive me.

Jesus: I already did. Come here . . .

Me: I'm afraid.

Jesus: Of Me?

Me: No . . . I don't think so . . . I think I'm afraid of having to do this again.

Jesus: One step at at time, Precious. Come and let me rub this medicine on, let me wrap up your heart with My Love. I'll take away that pain. I really don't want you to keep bleeding like this.

Me: Oh, that sounds amazing. One more thing, Lord . . .

Jesus: Yes?

Me: Can I have my bricks back . . . just in case.

Jesus: No, child.

Me: Then You're telling me this won't happen again?

Jesus: No, child.

Me: But . . .

Jesus: I will show you another way. You will learn to love deep as I do. I will show you how to listen and speak my light and peace. I will pour my healing over you and over her, and I will unify you both in My love. I will guide you in what to say and what not to say. I will show you how I see her and I will use you both for Love. It will take time and continuous surrender to My precious plan. I will be here for you. I will strengthen you. I will be the only wall you need. Now are you ready to come close? Come into my arms, I am waiting.

"Hatred stirs up quarrels, but love makes up for all offenses." -Proverbs 10:12 (NLT)

Friends, forgiveness is not optional. God's Word says we MUST forgive. I challenge you to have your own conversation with the Lord of Love today. Let Him wash away your bitterness and pour a new spirit in you. Surrender to His plan to heal you. You can trust Him.

I do.

Breaking down the walls

I've had quite a few of you give feedback to Sunday's post - thank you for your honesty and vulnerability.


In all likelihood, we all have at least one story about how another woman has betrayed us or wounded our hearts. And when those wounds come like a knife through your back and you sit there holding your blood seeping into your hands with nothing else to do, your bloody fingers find the bricks. And you think to yourself, "What in the world can I do to prevent this pain again?" And the only solution you come up with is to stay away from all women. You generalize, telling yourself, "It will always end this way. My hopes for the friend I'm starving for are destroyed. I should give up now so at least I won't have to feel this ever again." And you use the bricks and the mortar and your wall gets higher and higher until they can see you but they can't touch you or hurt you . . . or love you.


It's comfortable behind your wall for a while. Safe. Quiet. Peaceful. Controlled.


But then you realize that the price you've paid for all of those things is loneliness. It's too quiet and too controlled. And you suddenly realize you're still starving, still craving a friend, still longing for someone who understands you and truly listens. Someone who will hold you when you cry and respect you the next day. Someone who laughs with you and at you and through you. Someone who you can bare your soul to and know she won't tell another living being on two feet. Someone who will go the distance of life and still be there when you're at your worst, when you don't feel like trying to fight in this life anymore, when your butt sags, and when you have a bad hair day or even a bad hair year.


And you might even pull down a few of those bricks and reach your hand out and let yourself be touched again. But at the first glimpse of her imperfection or even a hint of misunderstanding you pull it back behind your wall again and replace the bricks that had been saved close-by for this very occasion.


I've been there. I've lived behind my wall for years at a time, and if I'm completely honest, it's still there, in part. And though I haven't quite thrown the bricks away yet, I'm learning to live life vulnerable. I don't know how else to explain it, but that I couldn't stay there. I'm an optimist by nature, and I think one day I realized Jesus had more for me.


Another friend began her demolition at about the same time I did. She observed that women sized up one another when they walked in a room even more than men did. And then they compared themselves to the other women in the room and basically either tore themselves apart or ripped into other women mentally based mostly on physical appearance. And tell me you've never done that. Yeah, I didn't think you could. She theorized that much of our problems with relation to one another stem from our own insecurities and with trying to compare and compete. She said it and we both saw the other's light flash in our eyes. The problem began to materialize in our sight and we hated it so much that we vowed to do whatever it took to strangle it.

For a few years I really worked on that. On learning how to be myself. On refusing to let my mind compare my weaknesses with another woman's strengths. On rejoicing in the woman God made me to be and worshipping Him for His ability to create such uniqueness in every person. Because on the days I hated myself I heard Him cry, "How can you walk in such rebellion as to call something I have created and have treasured 'trash'?" And that absolutely broke me.

"You made all the delicate and inner parts of my body
and knit me together in my mother's womb.
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous - how well I know it.
You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed.
How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
They cannot be numbered!
I can't even count them;
they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up,
You are still with me!" -Psalm 139: 13-18 (NLT)


Jesus began breaking down my walls, but I realized that I had to take up the sledge hammer too, and receive the love He had for me, and the love He wanted to give me through other women.

If the first step to breaking down your wall is learning to treasure yourself the way God does, how can you begin to do that today? If you already learned to be okay with you without comparing yourself to other women or competing with them, how did you go about doing that?

More to come soon . . .

A life without walls

Yesterday I had the privilege to speak to a fun group of women and girls about healthy relationships between members of our gender. It was a great opportunity, and I think of the 10minutes I was given to speak, I took about 20. Oops. And if I'm honest, I could have gone on for about 3 more hours! Maybe I'll just get some of it off of my chest here . . .


I know I have some guys who read my blog, but don't check out now, fellas - this could be an opportunity to understand your gal and how she ticks and clicks with her friends.


Now, being all of 32 years old, I realize I don't have a firm grasp on all there is to know on this topic, but in so many ways I've come so far from where I once was . . .


So maybe that's where I shall begin. I've been hurt by women. And not just hurt - crushed, flushed, broken, used, and beaten. Intentionally and unintentionally. In junior high school a girl named Brandi once threw her crushed-up crackers into my horrifyingly-curly hair quietly during homeroom while I was bent over reading a book. I couldn't figure out why everyone, including a very cute boy I liked, was snickering the whole period. Kids continued to laugh when they saw me in the hall, and all I could do was cast my eyes on the floor as I walked to avoid their jeers. It was not until I got home and looked in the mirror that I realized why they were laughing at me. I cursed my hair, and if I could pinpoint a day that started my life-long struggle with insecurity, that would be it. That was when I first started building my wall, brick by brick, so that girls wouldn't be able to get behind me without me knowing their intentions to shame me with my back turned. Even now, though I've come to grips with the hair God gave me, I still prefer to straighten my curls, regardless of the time or effort it costs me.



During those same years, my "best-friend" disowned me for no apparent reason other than the fact that we were one of the only families in the district who didn't drive a Mercedes and own a million-dollar mansion (we rented our house, actually). I realize now that I loved her, but I wouldn't have put it in those words then. We shared everything - boys, movies, family junk, laughs, cries, ballet recitals, homework, afternoons, hopes, dreams, band, goals . . . there was nothing important to me that she didn't know and share. But one day - she was done with me. Wouldn't call, wouldn't come over to hang-out, wouldn't even talk to me in the hall, or look at me in ballet class. She dropped me like a 50-pound bag of bricks. If I could pinpoint the day my anxiety around women began, it would be that day. I added those heavy bricks to my wall, protecting myself from women who would get close enough to drop me from that height. Even now, though I have several close girlfriends, I can still find myself trembling around some women, and I can go into avoidance mode instead of risking a relationship if I have any suspicion she might reject me in the end. I still find it easier to laugh around and relate to men in some ways. In high school I only let one girl in to be my friend. Fortunately, we're still close.




This pain continued in my adult years, though the wounds were less intentional with other women. One particular woman I respected greatly and wanted to be just like, well she hurt me too. Looking back, I know she would never have done this on purpose, but I felt totally forgotten by her because I asked her to mentor me and she said yes, but then it never happened. At the time I felt so defeated, so shameful that she would give me her lip-service for the sake of duty, but I was not really worth her precious time. No, not me. I wasn't good enough. I know that wasn't what she was really thinking, but it's what I imagined her thinking, and my imagination sent knives at her that just deflected off of her oblivion and stabbed my heart over and over. In those months of felt-neglect I began a pattern I still have to fight where I count every commitment a woman makes to me much too seriously, and I take it personally if people back out of time with me (even for church meetings - I know, ridiculous). I wonder if why she said "I can't make it today" really has to do with the fact that she doesn't honestly think I'm good enough for her time. I spackle some more bricks onto my wall.



And then there was another woman-leader in my church who accused me of disrespecting her while we were on a mission trip. Now, I will admit, my PMS was raging and I was jokingly sarcastic at one point. I think she asked me a question about a bunk and I replied "Have you seen our room?" a little too abruptly. But despite those circumstances, dishonor had NEVER crossed my mind. I was mortified by her incorrect assumption and accusation when in reality she was a dearly treasured woman whom I had thanked God for often and so wanted to emulate. How could she take one statement and accuse me of public disrespect? I turned off everything, shut down, and was barely able to fly back to the US in one piece. I think I remember vowing not to even try to minister to anyone again because I would just mess everything up since my intentions could never be interpreted correctly and because I was such a communicative derelict. I piled the wall over my head that day. I put on the bricks as high as I could reach and then started another wall to the right of me to keep out anyone who might try to come around the side of my wall. I still struggle with the right thing to say in impromptu moments around other women, and would much rather e-mail or text what I need to communicate than chance saying the wrong thing.



And these are my walls. I'm learning how to break through and take them down, but sometimes I put more bricks on rather than taking them off. Insecurity. Fear of rejection. Fear of re-injury. Fear of being misunderstood. I'd like to tell you the story of how God is teaching me to let women in again, but before I do that, I wonder if you might share some of your walls too . . .

Radical, Selfless, Transforming

Jesus showed us the definition of Love, Himself.

In the Temple, by the sea, at the funeral of a son, in the Garden, before an unfair court in shame, chained to the flogging post, under the thorn-crown, bearing the heavy Beams over open gashes, in His every drop of precious blood, hanging in a choking posture from the Cross, and rising to walk and talk with His friends again.

His love was Radical. Never before had God died. Never before had those miracles been done. Never before had God defeated death for every soul. Never before did God demonstrate Himself so clearly, so openly. God IS Love. He doesn't just do it, He defines it. He exudes it. He is IT.

His love was Selfless. (So unlike my own love, if I can even call it that.) He thought of you and me, and those very thoughts of His loved ones drove Him, pushed Him, encouraged Him, strengthened Him to do what was required. How many times did He think of Himself? I'm not sure, but my guess is not many, for if He would have dwelt on Himself, He wouldn't have done any of it. His thoughts and actions were for His Father's children, for His Family. This is Love.

His love was Transforming. He made a Way. He gave His blood for ours. He paid every price. He changed our hearts, supernaturally and miraculously making it possible for us to give Grace and forgiveness (and Love and Joy and Peace and Patience and Kindness and Goodness and Faithfulness and Gentleness and Self-Control). Those things are beyond what we posses. Our love doesn't contain them. But His does, and now, because of the Holy Spirit, our wine skins are stretched to contain everything He empowers into us. We are NOT the same.

Jesus, fill us with your Spirit. Empower us to be more like You. Help our definition to be Love too. Radical, Selfless, Transforming - Love.

Freedom

Tonight begins Passover for those who observe this festival/holiday. In continuing with research for my writing, I'm digging into the deep meaning of this celebration and the traditions therein, conveniently found in a book I got from the library last week. Strangely (and by no means coincidence), my daily reading plan has me in 2nd Kings 23 where Josiah honors Passover like no King before or after him, a friend of mine took off work today to honor the beginning of the festival, and it is the next phase of my book that I'll be detailing. Well, I think it's obvious God wants to show me more of what Passover means to Him.

A couple months ago, I led Communion in church and God put on my heart to share Jesus' observance of the Passover meal before He was crucified. I shared how Jesus' words on that night were a dual fulfillment of prophesy - the promise of Freedom. Freedom from slavery is an important element of the Passover celebration - for the Jews of long ago, and for modern-day Jewish people as well. They emphasize freedom from Egypt - both literally and figuratively. But Jesus was also describing another freedom when He broke the bread and shared the cup - freedom from sin and the law that held us captive to it. He rescued us from the idolatry and oppression of Egypt, but He also rescued us from ourselves and the sin nature that has plagued us since Adam.

In addition to the dichotomy of freedom and slavery, Passover is also about the juxtaposition of exile and home. Once again, Jesus took this idea to a whole new level when He took bread with His disciples that night and then gave His life the next day. He knew that with the New Covenant He established that night, His promise of Home would take on new meaning. Our new Promised Land is not limited to Jerusalem or Israel any longer. We await a New Jerusalem, which will be an eternal Home with God in a New Heaven and a New Earth, made possible only with the defeat of death. And that is why the Resurrection is the rest of the Passover story that began one night in Egypt, continued one night in an upper room with 13 guys, and will one day be fulfilled in completion when He returns for us.

Maybe that day will be today . . .

A prophetess: Huldah

Today I'm a little preoccupied with research for my book, so bear with me if you will.

Let's breech the topic of Women in the Church - not so we can fight over a controversial issue, but in order to see what the Bible really says.

There are a few women in the Bible who bear the title "Prophetess": Miriam, Deborah, and Huldah. One commentary, however, stated that this title was not necessarily indicative of an ability to foresee events, but rather of possessing a poetic speech-giving talent. Another book I got from the library yesterday implied a disdain among all Jewish people for women who learned and spoke the Word of God.

Really? What a shame. Frankly, I don't see that in Scripture.

Disrespectful Miriam aside, let's look at just Deborah and Huldah here. Not only did they know God's Word, but their faith stands out among even the men in their own generation, and we can indeed see the prophetic spirit at work. In Judges Deborah reluctantly agrees to fight with Barak, prophesying that he'll lose face if she does when God wins. She leads the charge and comes out on top, just as God spoke through her.

And Huldah - well, she's right on the money too. She knows the king's heart, speaks out the forthcoming destruction and judgement (which would come to pass just 14 years later), and tells Josiah's future. Though some may contend that he didn't die "in peace," I'd argue that he was at peace with God, and Judah was not necessarily "at war" when he was killed. Prophetess: of course, in every sense of the word. And did she know God and His Ways, His Law? She had to have known. God reveals His secrets to His friends. (John 15:15)

"She said to them, 'This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: Tell the man who sent you to me, "This is what the Lord says: I will bring trouble to this place and to the people living here, as it is written in the book which the king of Judah has read. The people of Judah have left me and have burned incense to other gods. They have made me angry by all that they have done. My anger burns against this place like a fire, and it will not be put out." ' " - 2 Kings 22:15-17 (NCV)


I love Huldah. Not quite as much as I love Josiah, but still. I love that she's an example (one of many in the Bible) to today's women who follow God. She knew God's heart, was known (even among the highest Palace officials) to hear from Him, and was bold enough to give a convicting prophesy which couldn't have been a popular opinion in her generation.

I pray that God will raise me up to be like her. And I pray for many other women to be raised up in my generation as well. I also pray for more men like King Josiah, Hilkiah, Abcor, Ahikam, Shaphan, and Asaiah who will seek out the wisdom of these women whom God has clearly called and is using, and for a people who will listen.

Seeking and Finding

Today I have a new awe of God.

The vast and seemingly-endless ways people come to know Him. I see it in Scripture, and I see it in my generation too. Some come quickly to their knees, at the mere mention of the Cross and His Holy Name. Others take years, even decades of searching, seeking, looking, and studying to receive His forgiveness and leadership. Though the Way is singular, the paths to Him are as numerous as the number of Souls He has made.

And to me they are all exceedingly amazing. That God could put that many pieces of this puzzle into place is simply unthinkable in my puny mind.

Oh, wow, You are so gigantically powerful, My Lord!

My process in coming to Jesus was nothing short of miraculous. And when I look back, even when I wasn't actively "seeking" Him, I can see that he was undeterred in chasing after me. As they say, "hindsight is 20/20." My teenage years were filled with times of self-seeking pleasure and prideful accomplishment. But God even used those times to show me I'd fail every time without Him. When I started looking for Him, I wrestled with Jesus who is the Word. Turning the pages over and over again, I fought Him and demanded the Truth. And, oh my, did He deliver. In the end it was I who was pinned to the mat in exhaustion and sweet defeat. He had beaten my pride and my "intelligence" and when I cried out for mercy He responded with a deep kiss of grace.

I would be forever changed and changing.

"For the Lord sees every heart and knows every plan and thought. If you seek him, you will find him." -1 Chronicles 28:9b (NLT)

"Turn to the LORD!
He can still be found.
Call out to God! He is near." -Isaiah 55:6 (CEV)

Tell me about your story, dear seeker . . . Let us stand in awe of Him together.

Hard to drift

My husband said something very profound in his sermon this weekend (he does that often). It's one of those things we should remember every day.

"It is so easy to drift."

And, though it shouldn't be true, it really is. Grace alone should set our feet to dancing and our lips to praising day and night, but what we really see when we look around at fellow followers of Christ is nothing short of . . . well, bland. Sometimes we just want to grab them by the shoulders, give a good shake, and shout, "Is anyone in there? Have you forgotten how Good He really is?!"

Now, don't get me wrong - I experience days of spiritual ho-hum, too. I've got to remind myself of the fire Jesus set in my heart and fan the flames sometimes as well. I've never claimed perfection and I'm not about to start, but I think I'm discovering something here - there is a cure for the lazy drifter.

"But make sure that you don't get so absorbed and exhausted in taking care of all your day-by-day obligations that you lose track of the time and doze off, oblivious to God. The night is about over, dawn is about to break. Be up and awake to what God is doing! God is putting the finishing touches on the salvation work he began when we first believed. We can't afford to waste a minute, must not squander these precious daylight hours in frivolity and indulgence, in sleeping around and dissipation, in bickering and grabbing everything in sight. Get out of bed and get dressed! Don't loiter and linger, waiting until the very last minute. Dress yourselves in Christ, and be up and about!" -Romans 13:11-14 (Msg)

As much as I love sleep (and I do), I don't want Jesus to come back and find me loitering. He deserves more from me. We can't lose track of time, thinking we'll serve God "someday." Guess what? Someday will never come. Followers of Christ have to get up out of our comfy beds and get dressed!

How? Here are some practical ways to be up and about:

* Get out of bed a few minutes earlier to write down your prayer list for the day. (I know this is tough, my alarm goes off too early and all my body wants is more sleep, but my spirit is hungry, and my God is helpful)

* Put on your student-hat and research the work with which God is pleased (Check Isaiah 58 for a start); after such research, take the first step of action.

* As Stephen King wrote once about unnecessary adverbs he had to eliminate from his writing, "Murder your darlings." Eliminate the things in your life that you treasure but God despises. For example: "Because we belong to the day, we must live decent lives for all to see. Don’t participate in the darkness of wild parties and drunkenness, or in sexual promiscuity and immoral living, or in quarreling and jealousy." -Hebrews 13:13 (NLT) - (same verse as in the passage above, but a different version) You might really enjoy it, but if it's not God's plan for your life, you will have to give it up. And you might as well do it sooner rather than later. Time is of the essence.

* Get ready. Start every day with this thought: Jesus might come today. I guarantee that one thought will absolutely change the way you think, feel, act, love, and live. Put on your best and get ready to meet Him. And if you didn't already know this, your best is the Righteousness he gives you. Wear it with thankfulness and get busy doing whatever it is that you would like Him to find you doing when He comes. Because He IS coming!




The end result in all of this is so beautiful. Check out how Paul describes it to Timothy: "Cultivate these things. Immerse yourself in them. The people will all see you mature right before their eyes! Keep a firm grasp on both your character and your teaching. Don't be diverted. Just keep at it. Both you and those who hear you will experience salvation." - 1 Timothy 4:15-16 (Msg) Salvation. The eternal security and hope of being with Jesus, in His presence, face-to-face, forever in Heaven with Him and His people. There is nothing else worth pursuing. All excuses for lazy drifting are crucified.

Let's make it hard for ourselves to drift.

how to love a Job

No, I'm not talking about employment - I mean the kind of person around you who is suffering miserably. Like the guy in the Bible, you know the one - his story is told right after Esther's.

Yeah - that Job. Long O.

Well, I've got a couple right now. They are hurting, they've suffered loss and tragedy, and they've been persevering through a lot of hard circumstances for a long time. They are seemingly bitter at God, unsure if His promises will ever come to pass, and ready for Him to ANSWER them already! To me it seems their faith seems to be slipping at times, and then the next day, they're declaring His goodness once again. Just like this:

“I cannot keep from speaking.
I must express my anguish.
My bitter soul must complain.
Am I a sea monster or a dragon
that you must place me under guard?
I think, ‘My bed will comfort me,
and sleep will ease my misery,’
but then you shatter me with dreams
and terrify me with visions.
I would rather be strangled—
rather die than suffer like this.
I hate my life and don’t want to go on living.
Oh, leave me alone for my few remaining days.

“What are people, that you should make so much of us,
that you should think of us so often?
For you examine us every morning
and test us every moment.
Why won’t you leave me alone,
at least long enough for me to swallow!
If I have sinned, what have I done to you,
O watcher of all humanity?
Why make me your target?
Am I a burden to you?"
-Job 7:11-20

But then just a little while later, he goes into this declaration of faith and praise:


"For God is so wise and so mighty.
Who has ever challenged him successfully? . . .
He does great things too marvelous to understand.
He performs countless miracles."
-Job 9:4,10


These extremes can leave one with some whiplash if you're trying to walk with your Job on the road of his trial. I know God is teaching these people some amazing lessons and I trust that on the other side of these difficulties and sorrows, they are going to be so much stronger and even better fit to serve in His Kingdom. But how do I serve them effectively NOW?

The answer also lies in the book of Job in that by example of his friends, the Bible teaches us what NOT to do. Here are a few main points:

1. Shut up. Yup I said it. The most effective way to love a Job is to close your mouth. Don't talk. Don't mumble. Don't even try to console or reason or argue - you will dig yourself a dirty messy hole of mud that will only cave in on you and Job both. Don't engage in conversation when Job is venting. Don't try to give a cliché answer like "It will all work out" or "Trust in God" - none of that. Here's my tip for loving the Job in your life: take a clothes-pin out of your junk drawer, insert both of your lips and allow the clamp to shut. Do not remove said clothes-pin until your Job has put away his broken pottery and his shaking fist, and not a minute before. . .

2. Stay put. Take on an attitude that is willing to suffer too, no matter how painful it will be. Put on your brave face and don't move a muscle to leave. Job needs to know that you will be there for him, and that you won't desert him, no matter how hard it gets. NEVER do as Job's wife actually did and tell him to curse God and die already. Uh, yeah - not so helpful. Plant your feet, plant your butt, and use your body language and countenance to show that you love Job unconditionally and that you are willing to smell the stench of his sores until they are healed.

3. Cry. Allow yourself to feel his pain. Don't pretend it wouldn't hurt if you were the one covered in dust and tears. Look into his eyes and feel as much of his pain as you can bear. Don't look away, don't harden your heart, don't steel your emotions . . .

4. Touch him. Offer a hand over his, a shoulder to cry on, an embrace, and a loving caress. (Okay, this will only work appropriately in certain relationships – I’m not suggesting this for a cross-gender Job in your life)

Maybe you don’t know what I’m talking about yet, but someday you will. How do I know this? Because life is HARD. Period.

Read the book of Job this week and let me know your thoughts on how to best love someone going through extremely difficult trials. I’d love some of your pointers too . . .