Revealing The Story

How Our Stories Fit Into THE Story

The melancholy middle

April 22, 2020 /

Do you feel it? Melancholy setting in?

We are five weeks in to the “shelter- in- place” aspect of the pandemic. The initial adrenaline of change, being awarded “staycations” with no school and simplified calendars is tapering.

The perceived “snow day” is actually a winter and we’re bracing for a long haul.

Most days I’m pretty good at being an optimist, but the honeymoon is wearing off.

Here we sit in that “middle” space. We don’t know when this will end, or even when restrictions will be lifted. The rates of related deaths rise and we start to put faces to the numbers. We await reports from our government leaders only to find ourselves more confused by their speeches and lost in the abyss of the unknown future.

Our family watched the movie “Groundhog day” a couple weeks ago and it is eerily familiar as I awake this morning ready to “Shelter in place” as we have for the last 40 days. Same song. Same routine. Repeat.

And yet I can’t get this idea out of my head. We have all had “melancholy middles” before -seasons of unknown where we had no idea how things would resolve.

God gently reminds me, He is here with us in the MIDDLE.

“When we’re in the middle of a difficult time, we have to speak against that lie that says, “God is not here.” We have to draw near to God…God answers the mess of life with one word: ‘Grace.’ Those who successfully go through tough times do so because they keep insisting.”

Max lucado

Verses come to mind to battle my despair. I ask myself: “Why so downcast oh my soul? Put your hope in God.”

The Bible is filled with accounts of people who sat in the messy middle, discouraged, and had to REMIND themselves of truth.

“Will the Lord reject forever? Will he never show his favor again? Has his unfailing love vanished forever? Has God forgotten to be merciful. Has he in anger withheld his compassion?

Then I thought, To this I will appeal…

I WILL REMEMBER the deeds of the Lord, yes I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will meditate on all your works and consider all your mighty deeds.” Your works are wonderful.

Psalm 77:11

Again in Lamentations the author cries out..

“I remember my affliction and my wandering- the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have HOPE. Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed for his compassions never fail. They are NEW every morning great is your faithfulness. “

Lamentations 3:19-23

When we focus on US, on our frustrations, shortcomings, and all the unknowns -we can despair. But hope is found if we focus on HIM. For generations people have called on the Lord and seen Him to be faithful.

We patiently remember.

We look back. We remind ourselves of the middles we’ve found ourselves in before and how now, we have the luxury of looking back to see the story He was writing . We remind ourselves what He has done in our past, and our faith grows for our future.

He is here. Right by us. He is writing our story. We don’t know what the next chapter holds, but we know the author who holds the pen.

WE sit together in the melancholy middle.

Being refined

April 7, 2020 /

Sleep has been difficult these days. As I lay down, my mind races trying to make sense of all there is to process. A few mornings ago, in the wee hours of tossing and turning, a poignant thought struck me: THIS is the season of Lent. 

"The purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer for Easter through prayer, doing penance, mortifying the flesh, repentance of sins, almsgiving, and self-denial. "

This season, 40 days before Easter, where for generations past, people have more intently sought the Lord. Concurrently this season where across the world we’re experiencing a forced fast of sorts: schools, church services, businesses are all closed. Nations are on lockdown: a giving up, a simplifying, interruption to our daily norm.

I wonder about God’s perspective as He looks down on a globe filled with fires of outbreak. And what does He think? Does he mourn at the suffering? I think as a good Father, He does. Does He dream of a new day when there will be no more tears, no more sickness, no more loss? Scripture tells us He does. Does He long for His people to be drawn to Him? I think so. The truth is…with one swoop of a blanket he could snuff the fire and suffocate the flames. But what will be left among the ashes after this fire is put out?

Fires burn, but they also refine. The “refining fire” is talked about through scripture. These fires purify- burn away the dross and the dead, and leave a cleaner, purified new life. 

 And I will put this third into the fire,
    and refine them as one refines silver...
They will call upon my name,
    and I will answer them.
I will say, ‘They are my people’;
    and they will say, ‘The Lord is my God.’” Zechariah 13:9
 6 In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, 7 so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. I Peter 1:7

The timing seems interesting. The scope of the whole world experiencing this at the same time is mind-blowing. I do have to wonder: where is God wanting to refine us, our families, our society at large? Where can we apply the ancient spiritual disciplines of Lent to pray, to confess our sins (both personally and corporately), to give, to seek the Lord more intently?

In this “refining fire” I am noticing my own sin: selfishness, irritability, the desire to control, my love of schedules & routines, finding identity in my work and relationships. I want that to be burned away and come out of this a little more refined. How about you? What is rising to the surface?

The truth is…Easter will come. There will be a day where this is all a strange memory and we’ll be reminded of NEW LIFE, and we’ll return to our “normal” lives. I guess I’m wanting to return different, changed, transformed, a little more refined from walking through this fire. How about you?







							
	

				
	



	


		
					
				

											2011
									


							
			

			
				April 6, 2020
				
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2011 was a tough year. I spent weeks in an ICU, we closed our business, short-sold our house, went months without income, moved our kids to a new school… the list goes on. So many stressors happened simultaneously. Everything we worked for was gone. It didn’t matter how careful or thoughtful we had been. I was embarrassed. 










Our people never shamed us. They treated us with dignity even when meeting practical needs. Things would appear.. randomly, anonymously. Food. Gift cards. Someone paid our power bill. We tried to conceal our needs, but somehow they always knew. They taught me that community observes unspoken needs with respectful care, and responds accordingly.





Our nation was in a recession – the first for our generation of young adults. There were many travelers on our road. Each had their own unique griefs. Thank you for not judging mine.





The craziest thing about 2011 is that I mostly remember the good. Every smile, every laugh, every moment of peace was richer because it fought through miles of dirt to reach the sun. Who cares if we walked a lot because we couldn’t afford to do anything else. Those walks taught us how to breathe. And that’s how it goes. Almost systematically, each hard is somehow (miraculously?) overshadowed by good. Not stupid, hollow, fakely positive good. True good. It didn’t happen right away. It was instilled over time through things like space for grief, the healing balm of simple, hope that ‘hard’ wouldn’t last forever, and visibility of beauty-in-the-midst.





Our nation is facing another season of hard. We sense its presence but none of us knows its exact contents. It’s unfortunate that we’ve been polarized for so long. That social distancing can enhance social disparities. And that (at a time when we need each other the most) prevention tactics are so diverse. We were designed for community. We must find ways to bridge isolation. Bridge fear. Bridge differences. We are ALWAYS, ALWAYS stronger together.





You helped me survive 2011. Show me how to help you.





Laura

							
	

				
	



	


		
								
			


							
					
											

					
										
			

				
						
				

											Scared?
									


							
			

			
				March 31, 2020
				
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“Are you scared?” I wonder as I acknowledge the 20-something cashier at Target.





I try to smile, while acknowledging the fear in the air,. I try pulling up ‘files’ in my thoughts of topics, “is this really happening”, and “why is the entire section of meat, dry goods, and toilet paper completely gone” to aid in our conversation. 





Truth is I’m caught between “this is crazy… and the world might be ending.” Caught between, “It’ll blow over… and what if it doesn’t” wrestling match. 





The real, bottom of the barrel truth; fear knocks at my door. 










My husband and I are fully self-employed, running a small business.  The mixture of significant health fears as well as terrifying financial ones feel insurmountable as our economy grinds to a halt. Snaking its way through all of these daily moments is a whisper. Murmurs, lies that are sneaky, subtle, but growing larger like a dark giant. 





Fear. 





Fear of what’s to come. 





Fear that I will not make it, fear that I’m not enough. My business will fail, my dreams will die, my calling will cease, my bank account will empty, my hope will not be enough. Fear of the unknown. How will we provide, what if we lose it all…what if we get sick. What if someone I love falls ill and dies. 





But then I remember, I’ve fought this nasty giant before. I know his stench. 










I fought him before, dressed differently but with the same stench a long time ago. 





I remember this dark giant and have some rippled nasty scars to prove it. I remember sitting in the dark scared, I remember being unemployed with no saving in the account. I still remember the job interviews that came to nothing, the food stamps, the “where is God in this” questions. 





God never promised that it would be easy following Him. But He did promise to never leave you, to always be with you through it. So that battle against this giant of fear is real. Mine, from so long ago, was ugly, dark, and I though about giving in to it…but then, then I rose up. 





I remembered who I was. Friend, if you are reading this, allow me to remind you of who you are too. If this giant of anxiety, fear, depression..whoever he is in your life, if he is cornering you right now, it’s time for you to remember just who you are.





Do you know who you are? 





-You are a beloved child of a loving God





-You hold authority and keys to the kingdom





-You are powerful, and hope is your birthright





-You are already victorious, despite your current circumstances





-You have unlimited strength, found right in your weakness










So friend, rise up. Re-claim your warrior stance, and trust that the God who created you, loves you, called you, empowered you and told you who you ARE will rise up on all sides with you. Around you. Before you and behind you. 





His promise…”I will never leave you nor forsake you” has carried me through every season, every moment. He doesn’t falter, He doesn’t forget. I can testify with everything in me to this. He has never left me and He will never leave you.





All we have to do is rise up in our identity, remembering who we are and whose we are.  And the giant of fear fall. 





You and I have nothing to be scared of.





-Kallie

							
	

				
	



	


		
					
				

											Unexpected beauty
									


							
			

			
				March 26, 2020
				
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Wow, friends. We are “in the middle” of unprecedented times right now, aren’t we?   “Coronapocalypse 2020” as my husband calls it. It’s been a few weeks now and across the world we are ALL adjusting, grieving disappointments, recalibrating, social distancing, and trying to make sense of it all.  In the dark corners fear, sickness, isolation, selfishness, and confusion rise and we live day to day wondering what will happen next. 





A few weeks ago, before this reality,  I was out for my early morning routine walk.  It’s become a habit to rise before my kids (and often before the sun), throw on a pair of tennis shoes and circle the neighborhood praying for the day and my loved ones. In the cool morning air I walked, and somehow life seemed a little quieter that day.  Keeping a brisk pace I listen to the birds chirp and watched the sun rise over the trees. 





Approaching a familiar street corner,  my eye was drawn to a bright yellow splash of color ahead. The morning rays of the sun almost created a spotlight on this one particular sunflower demanding my attention. 





  










It was early February, definitely not sunflower season, and there amidst the brown, dead leaves and vines (who had gone dormant for winter) rose this skinny, valiant sunflower showing off it’s happy, yellow glow. It was strangely out of place.  I knew for a moment I needed to take this image in. These verses came to mind… 





"The Sovereign Lord is one me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor...to comfort all who mourn..to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes." Isaiah 61:1-3





"The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy. But I have come that you may have life, and life abundantly." John 10:10





It seems that through this little skinny sunflower God was preemptively trying to teach me a lesson. It is certainly easy to be overwhelmed by the heartache and difficulties around us.  But amidst it all- there is beauty.  He is creating LIFE from death, He is the artist of all that is beautiful.





Unexpected beauty.  Psychologists are saying that gratitude is the best antidote to fear.  How do we train our eyes to look for His handiwork around us, His beauty and be grateful?





Yesterday, we had our kids participate in this exercise in gratitude.  I was amazed to see what our 9 year old daughter wrote. 










 Though it seems like we’re surrounded by sickness, darkness, and fear- there is hidden beauty if we “put on a new pair of glasses.” It’s in the birds chirping, oblivious that the human race is caught up in such a time. It’s in the rain that replenishes the dry ground and causes new life to sprout.  It’s in the laughter of resilient, creative  children stuck at home another day.  It’s in stories of  people finding ways to serve each other and connect; like the story of the quarantined Italians who opened their windows and joined together in song from their homes of quarantine, or the people who are serving the elderly in our community. These are the ways of God- making all things new and creating unexpected beauty.





Let’s be on the lookout for signs of beauty around us today that we can thank God for. Put on those glasses. It’s evidence that He is in our midst and the story isn’t over yet.






							
	

				
	



	


		
					
				

											Slowing Up
									


							
			

			
				August 23, 2017
				
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Quick, quick, let’s go.

I need an answer today.

…or the hardest for me.

What’s been going on? **while eyes dart the room**


These orders, demands and questions bring up anxiety like no other.


I feel like a robot, hurried to respond or give an urgent answer for an asphyxiated time-frame, to reply to a question where a large period looms as soon as something uninteresting exits my pie-hole.


I hate being rushed. Quickened.

You too?


I didn’t realize this until recently, when I found myself reacting in a anxious frantic whirlwind of craziness because of what I perceived to be rush.


Most of my life I’ve put myself on the tightrope of busy and go and whir and faster faster faster.


Probably because I looked around and saw quick go hurry being done well and knew not to listen to the quiet tug of slow slow slow because slow my friends was BOR (yawn) ING.


Slow is for people who don’t have social lives.


Slow is for people who aren’t fun.


Slow is for people who have to sit on their couch because no invites or plans or people are pulling them off their precious sofa.


I’m sorry. I ignorantly believed these thoughts in my younger years.


AND HOW WRONG I WAS.


Slow is wisdom.


Slow is sitting in silence and allowing someone to add a period when they have processed.


Slow is holding air in between you and him or her and letting the uncomfortable weight be a space to learn.


Slow is grace.


And assuredness.


Slow is peace and thinking through and listening first and speaking last.


Slow isn’t boring by any means.


The most fun creative inspiring people I know live slow. Live with purpose even in the hustle bustle of humanity.


They aren’t lazy or inactive or dull.


They are in fact, bright and can easily over-extend their valuable time with many note-worthy agendas and meetings and people and things to be at but they choose to slow up.


Slowing up is a wise ramp to living full.


Living purposeful and filled. With honest truth and courageous vulnerability; not fueled by rush and frantic and I don’t wanna miss ouuuuuuuut!


Slowing up is tried and true.


Slowing up is my jam.


Now, when I find myself chasing a string of to do’s on an imaginary tightrope of frenzied hurriedness- whether asked or self-inflicted- I’m asking myself a few questions.


What am I experiencing inside?

Am I feeling rushed and why?

Is this a legitimate timeline or a life-long habit of quick quick quick?

Am I present?

Am I being kind or snapping at everyone in my wake (including my reflection?)

How can I go about this differently? How can I slow up?


When we pause long enough to connect our minds with our bodies and hearts and then listen, do you hear that? The tick tock of time needed for all pieces to travel different paths and merge somewhere at the triad of slow.


That’s where wisdom is birthed.


At the center of slowing up.




 


Bekah


 


 

							
	

				
	



	


		
					
				

											trust walk
									


							
			

			
				August 16, 2017
				
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Be still and know I am God. (Psalm 46:10)  Did you know that the Hebrew for ‘be still’ is ‘let go’?


What does it look like to let go?




For me, it’s so many things.  Let go of control as my oldest transitions from child to adult.  Let go of fear that my middle’s dreams won’t beat the odds stacked against them.  Let go of the future hopes that blur my vision of the current successes surrounding my youngest.  Let go of perfect descriptions for the imperfections that run in, through, and around everything.  Adoption.  Marriage.  Parenting.  Ministry.


I’ve never cared for the phrase ‘let go and let God’ because I’ve seen too many people flounder under the strain and guilt of it.


Dear ones, this verse is inviting us to dwell in a space that’s far from strain or guilt.  A place of promise.  Hope.


The composers of Psalm 46 (the sons of Korah) had a complicated family history.  However, they didn’t allow their past to dictate their future.  I like the Message’s version of this song’s opening line: God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him.  We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom, courageous in storm and earthquake.  


God is a safe place to hide.  My grip (I can make everything and everyone better on my own) loosens when I’m tucked into that hiding place because in it I remember God’s goodness, power, and provision.  He is El Roi (the God who sees us), El Shama (the God who hears us), and Immanuel (God with us).


Letting go is active, not passive.  I’m still moving, but my movement is rooted in trust rather than control.  I’m watching, looking, listening, and learning.  I’m allowing the accounts of past provision to fuel the courage required to keep my grip loose.  One intentional step at a time I am embarking on a trust walk.


Will you join me?




Laura

							
	

				
	



	


		
					
				

											reach for the ground
									


							
			

			
				August 9, 2017
				
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Have you ever taken note of our posture during life’s most intense experiences? Childbirth. Death. Breakthrough. Profound joy. In each, our senses flood and we instinctively drop low, as if reaching for the ground.


Back to our roots.


Then God formed mankind of dirt from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living being. – Genesis 2:7


Dirt.  The ground.  Our roots.  Reminders of our humanity.


There is beauty and weakness in humanity.  But we tend to hide the latter as if the cracks don’t exist.




The Hebrew word ‘afar’, in this case translated as ‘dirt’, is also used in Genesis 18:27 as a metaphor for humility.


Humanity and humility.  Fitting.


While our tendency may be to hide the cracks, acknowledging them is key towards finding lasting strength.  For, there is FREEDOM in admitting that we cannot, should not, rely solely on ourselves.  That we were never supposed to handle everything (or everyone) on our own.


Do you see the beauty?  During life’s most intense experiences we instinctively drop to a posture that allows us to remember and receive.




Out of the ground springs forth living water.


Anyone who believes in me may come and drink! For the Scriptures declare, ‘Rivers of living water will flow from his heart. – John 7:38




Sustenance from a source deeper and richer than ourselves.


Remember your humanity.


Reach for the ground in humility.


Receive sustenance from the One who knows you better than you know yourself.


As a mom, therapist, and speaker, I tend to focus on equipping people to reach for the sky.  That’s good!  Great even.


But, oh, what riches might be unearthed if we expended even a fraction of our energy equipping people to reach for the ground.


Laura

							
	

				
	



	


		
					
				

											God’s presence during a fall off Pyramid Peak
									


							
			

			
				June 7, 2017
				
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My nephew Ryan is an experienced climber.  At the age of 23 he had climbed nearly every high mountain in California, traversed mountains in Nepal, and moved to Colorado to go to college in Boulder, where a range of 14’ers were at his doorstep.  14’ers are mountains that are over 14,000 feet tall.  One of these is named Pyramid Peak.  Pyramid Peak is a part of “the deadly Maroon Bells” a set of mountains that have claimed many lives because of their unbelievably deceptive, loose and unstable rock. The snowfields are treacherous, poorly consolidated, and the gullies are death traps.  Expert climbers who did not know the proper routes died on these peaks.


But Ryan was up for the challenge.  He saw the climb as an opportunity to grow, test out his winter skills, and perhaps a chance to see the White Elks.  On Saturday March 4th, he made the long drive to Aspen….solo.  He had asked friends to go with him, but none were too excited about the cold, wind, and altitude they would have to endure.  He felt the usual fear that always accompanies a climb like this…but felt his plan of reaching the summit and returning before the weather changed was doable.


The first night went fine, as Ryan dug himself a snow cave and slept for the night after a long day of hiking and climbing.  His alarm woke him up at 3:00am Sunday morning and he figured he could make it to the summit before noon and head back down before the late afternoon storm that was predicted to come in.  However, when he was just about 40 feet from the summit, he stepped on what must have been an ice cap formed by the wind or on loose rock that collapsed under him, and he fell over 2000 feet straight down off the summit ridge on the east side of the mountain.




Meanwhile, back at home in Paradise, California, my sister LaShawn and brother-in-law Dave were waiting for Ryan’s phone call to let them know he made it down the mountain safely.  They had an ongoing plan whenever Ryan did solo climbs, that if they didn’t hear from him by 7:00pm PST, to call the Search and Rescue team.   It was around that time when they started to get concerned.  He hadn’t called them yet and this was highly unusual for him.  They called his roommates and they too were concerned.  Their next call was to Aspen’s Search and Rescue.


It was almost dark in Colorado when Search and Rescue received the call, so they wouldn’t be able to search for him until Monday morning.  LaShawn and Dave decided to fly out to Aspen that next morning to be there whether they found Ryan dead or alive.  My Mom and I stayed home with my younger nephew Logan and took care of things while they were away.  We stayed in regular contact through a group family text, where Dave could give us updates as they gained information.  When the Search and Rescue team told us they found Ryan’s car at the base of the mountain, and then his abandoned snow cave with his belongings left there, we really started to prepare our hearts for the worst.  Meanwhile, we had relatives, everyone on Facebook, friends of friends, and our church family praying mightily for Ryan’s survival.  With the -4 degree weather and 100 mph winds on Pyramid Peak, we grew less and less hopeful that Ryan could survive another night on that mountain even if he was still alive.


Part of me couldn’t believe this was happening.  The previous month, on Super Bowl Sunday (February 5th) I had fallen down a steep ravine in Paradise while hiking with my sister after church.  I fell about 60 feet, hitting several trees on my way down.  I was headed straight for the river below and could hear my sister’s screams above as she watched me tumble down faster and faster.  I finally landed in a clearing and had to climb my way back up, very badly bruised and face bashed in with a deep cut above my lip.  Long story short, I was hauled off to the ER and got 8 stitches to sew together the skin above my lip.  I was very sore and traumatized, but amazingly no broken bones or head trauma other than a mild concussion.  Everyone said how lucky I was.  Luck may have had something to do with it, but I think God had a much bigger plan and purpose for this accident.  Because I could barely move, I needed to stay at my mom’s house so she could help me with things.  She was already being a nurse to my poor father who was dying of a very rare form of cancer.  Two days later, just before midnight, my father passed away to be with the Lord.  God knew the timing of my father’s death and didn’t want Mom to be alone that night.  I was there with her because of my accident.


So during the month of February after planning and preparing for Dad’s memorial service and adjusting to such a great loss of my dear dad, we all were still in the height of grief and couldn’t imagine losing another one of our family members just a few weeks later.


That’s what kept me going to be honest.  Surely God wouldn’t take Ryan from us so soon after losing Dad.  I couldn’t let my mind drift to the thought of Ryan being found dead, or not being found at all, which was exactly what happened with the previous climber who died on Pyramid Peak.  My sister on the other hand, was laid up in a hotel room reading the Psalms and preparing her heart for the worst.  We all knew and believed in the power of prayer from God’s miraculous healing of my sister’s brain tumor back in 2004.  The peace that comes from knowing that so many believers all over the world are earnestly praying for the same thing brings comfort and a peace that God’s will, will surely be done.  Nevertheless, thoughts of Job in the Bible came to mind often, and there is a real surrendering of our own will that has to take place.  God giveth and God taketh away.  And I will yet praise the name of the Lord!  Certain hymns and praise songs would come to mind and provide comfort.  God’s presence was real and tangible even during our darkest hours.


The search for Ryan continued with the Search and Rescue team having not found him yet after day 3.  I was still holding on to hope, but my more “prepare yourself for the worst” older sister LaShawn was resolved in her heart that Ryan was most certainly lost forever.  I couldn’t imagine what life would be like for her if Ryan didn’t return alive.  It would kill her, and I couldn’t bear to see that.  It was about 5:00pm on Tuesday evening that I got a phone call from my brother-in-law while I was driving in my car back over to my sister’s house where we were all camping out.  I answered my cell phone and Dave said “THEY FOUND HIM!! HE’S ALIVE!!”  I could not believe it! I cried for joy and proceeded to thank the Lord Jesus for his AMAZING mercy.


He shouldn’t have survived.  According to the doctors and nurses in the hospital there in Aspen, no one had ever survived a fall off Pyramid Peak, not to mention the more steep and treacherous east side of the mountain.  It was truly a miracle and all our friends and family rejoiced with us and gave glory to God for this amazing gift and second chance for Ryan.  Ryan had good survival skills, no doubt, but the fact that he came out of that fall with only some frostbite and an injured elbow and pelvis, was quite amazing.


God’s presence during these dark days was felt in many ways…. through the love and support of our church family who brought us delicious meals every day while LaShawn and Dave were in Colorado with Ryan… about two weeks total; by the constant prayers and petitions that were posted on Facebook and the phone calls from friends and family that confirmed we were not alone in this… we had a mighty team of prayer warriors pleading for Ryan’s safe rescue; by the comforting visions and dreams of Ryan being found alive shared with us by certain folks; by the gentle reminders of Bible verses and of praise songs that helped us to surrender and put our trust in the only true God; and by the huge financial support from donors to help pay for Ryan’s hospital bills and for LaShawn and Dave’s travel expenses so they could stay in Colorado to be there with Ryan.  God’s provisions were exceedingly more than we could have ever imagined.  He loves us… no doubt.


Trinity




Trinity Bockus is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist with a private practice in Chico, California.


 


RTS note: To hear how Ryan Montoya survived the ordeal, you can find his story on the internet (a simple Google search will deliver multiple links to articles and news reports) and on the CBS daytime television show, “The Doctors” which aired on May 25th.


 




							
	

				
	



	


		
					
				

											Grow in grace
									


							
			

			
				June 4, 2017
				
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“I’m so tired of being broken!”


I had HAD it.  I was so tired of everything falling apart around me.  I would read my Bible and yet I was still anxious.  I would nurture my marriage and yet we would still experience conflict.  I would pray for healing and yet I was still failing.  And it was one of those weeks where everyone around me seemed to have their lives together.  Their marriage? Healthy and easy.  Their faith? Strong and confident.  Their work? Fulfilling.  Their life? Golden.


Why couldn’t I just be a put together, already faithful, trusting and selfless woman of God?


I was talking with my husband on the phone, and to be honest I was just complaining.  She had this and that.  Her faith never ceases.  They are such good parents.  Why can’t I be a better person?  Why am I so messy? Why does it always feel like God is stretching me and growing me? I just want a break.


And that’s when, before I could stop it, exclaimed my frustration and exhaustion with being broken all the time.


I silenced myself.  I had to really stop and think about what had just come out of my heart.  What did I mean by that?  I was tired of being broken.  I finished the phone call without really understanding what I had just discovered about myself.  


The week went on and I routinely did all the things I thought would make me feel better about myself- read the devotions, listen to worship music, ask for forgiveness over and over and of course just try harder to not be broken. I had chosen to ignore my earlier explosion and was back to avoiding my brokenness.




Have you ever tried to hide and cover up your weaknesses?  Like Adam and Eve in the garden grabbing flimsy leaves to cover up what could only be clothed by the blood of a Savior’s sacrifice?  Maybe you hide your weakness by not telling anyone. Maybe you hide them with just trying harder, like me.  But God is a relentless and pursuing lover so He gently laid on my heart, “Daughter, why does it matter?”


Let me explain.  See, I love sharing my struggles; and I think I always thought it was because I wanted to encourage others. And it absolutely is!  But God revealed to me that there is a part of me that shares my weaknesses in hope that others will share too- so that I don’t have to be broken alone.  Misery loves company right?  But as I shared with people who really just didn’t struggle like me I found myself getting frustrated.  


It wasn’t until God pulled me aside like a little child and whispered to my soul that I didn’t need any excuses for my brokenness.  “I know you are broken”, He says, “and that’s exactly how I want you. My grace is sufficient for you, for My Power is made perfect in your weakness.”  


Why did I hate my weakness so much?  Why did I run from being broken?  


I was scrolling through Pinterest and came across this picture.


I set it as my wallpaper having no idea it would become my new anthem.  Grow in grace.  I began praying that God would help me to grow in grace for others.  Quickly I realized that He wanted me to grow in grace for myself.  


“Give yourself grace, little one.   It’s ok that you are broken.  You are not less than if you are struggling.  Like a cracked pot, I shine my Light through your flaws.” 




I was reading a friend’s article  and his perspective stuck with me; 


“It’s about messing up and repenting, matching our steps up with His to jump back in.  It’s the experience of God’s holiness in us and our agreement to express His holiness through us.”


What if in this state of brokenness we are exactly where we are suppose to be?  What if sanctification is actually the art of accepting our brokenness and realizing that we need help?  And praise God the help we need comes from His loving, gracious Hands!


Let’s learn to EMBRACE our brokenness. To truly listen when Jesus says, “You are enough.  You are ok.”  To not be ashamed with our struggles but to view them as a reminder of our need.  To be proud of our scars and our cracks, because we are proud of our Jesus shining through them.  To grow in grace, and grow in brokenness as Jesus grows in us.  


–Sophie




Sophie Jow is a wife, coffee enthusiast, adventure seeker, and first time blogger/vlogger.  Sophie’s Corner, launched just in April, celebrates authentic and messy living with Christ and exploring local businesses and artists. You can follow her blog on Instagram at @sophiescornerblog. 







							
	

				
	


		

		
				
			

						
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