How Our Stories Fit Into THE Story

Category: Faith (Page 1 of 4)

trust walk

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

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

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.

 

Refresh Button

We’ve  made it to the end of May! Can we agree? This month rivals December for the title of “most insane month” when it comes to schedule.

Each day is special but sometimes I want to scream: “get me off this crazy train!”

If you’re  like me, even amidst days full of activities and people, I fall into bed with a body that is weary, and a soul that feels dead. And since time is precious, I will make this short:

We need moments of refreshment.

Momentary exhales where we remember that God is God and we are not.

Moments to surrender to His lead, to relax beside still waters (maybe only figuratively) -because it’s there He  refreshes our soul.

Recently I found myself in that familiar tired, worn out place.  So I forced myself to put the laundry down, leave my phone in the kitchen, go to my room, and close my door. (The struggle is REAL, friends).

In the quiet, all alone, my eyes filled with tears and I wrote :

My soul is so hungry, Lord.”

God reminded me, ” I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry ” John 6:35

My spirit is dry and I’m so thirsty

And I remembered the verse..”but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”John 4:14 ”

I am so tired and weary

Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:26

I realized there was a commonality in these verses: when we admit our need, He beckons us to “come to Him” then promises to fill our emptiness.

And I’m  finding that only God satisfies the deepest longings of our soul.  Scrolling Facebook, nor scarfing a bag of chips, nor Netflix binges, nor even small talk with a friend will refill our cups the way that moments with Jesus can.

Think about it..When things get all outta whack on our computer screen, or an influx of input causes the machine to glitch and freeze, what do we do? We look for the refresh button and with a click of a finger all things align and fall back into place.

These days I’m reminded to search for those “refresh button” moments.

When life makes me frantic or I notice I’m operating on empty-  it’s time to return to my Maker, the one whose burden is easy and light.

Let him refresh your soul today with the words from this song based on Isaiah 55.

” All who are weary,

all who are weak

come to the fountain

dip your heart in the Stream of life.

The pain and the sorrow

will wash away

In the waves of his Mercy

Where deep calls out to Deep

come Lord Jesus, come. ”

 

Alyssa

waves

I’m fine.

Not really.

Let’s give each other permission to tuck away our practiced smiles and admit when it’s been a tough day.

For, no matter how good we’ve become at riding life’s waves, they sometimes crest over our heads.

This is normal. We don’t have to be ‘happy’ all the time; especially when we’re talking to God.

Father, I’m worn-out. Trust is hard. I keep thinking I know what’s best.

If one of your kids asked you for bread would you give them a stone? If you know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more capable am I? – Matthew 7:9

Yes, but what if letting go means watching someone get crushed?

Make me your dwelling and no disaster will come to you. My angels will lift you up. You will trample the great lion and the serpent. – Psalm 91:9-13

Bad things happen all the time. And, I can sense the lions prowling. Don’t ask me to believe that they’ll simply disappear.

Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name, you are mine. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.-Isaiah 43:1-2

I can smell the smoke.

I will cover you. Under my wings you will find refuge; my faithfulness is your shield. – Psalm 91:4

You know the fragile aspects of this situation. Fear lurks around each shadowed corner.

My grace is sufficient for you. For my power is perfected in your weakness. – 2 Cor. 12:9

Waves will come and go.

Let’s not make their impact worse by judging ourselves for swallowing water.

Lean in to the One who can strengthen your legs when they grow weary from treading. Lean in to the One whose capacity for love exceeds your own. Lean in to the One who can provide peace in the midst of chaos.

Keep riding, dear ones. Keep riding.

 

Laura

eclipse

Life is sunny.

Until the rain comes.

Precious family members and sweet friends have recently been pummeled by hospitalizations and serious diagnoses. Each bit of news a bomb leaving craters all around; a community-wide ache like a long line of dreary days.

Perhaps you’ve experienced such days.

Total havoc. No words.

My heart has grown heavy as I’ve attempted to navigate this crater-marked landscape of suffering.

‘Jesus, where are you – in – this?’

Shadows are eclipsing the sun.

Shadows take countless forms: self-reliance, denial, anger, disengagement, loss of hope. Shadows are exceptional liars. They seek to divide and conquer.

Tim Keller, a New York City preacher, was asked to come to Ground Zero and address the topic of suffering on the five-year anniversary of 9-11. I’ve been listening to that sermon ad nauseam as my eyes adjust to the shadows.

Keller opens with a common quandary: if God is good yet cannot stop the suffering of mankind, then he must have limited power. Conversely, if his power is limitless yet he chooses not to stop our suffering then he must not be good.

Keller urges us to look back to the work of the cross when Christ took on our suffering, look forward to his ultimate victory over suffering, and look into the wonder of the gospel — the greatest love story ever told.

In a few days we’ll celebrate Easter. It’s a remembrance of Christ’s willingness to step down from perfect community to enter our broken community.

Have you ever wondered why he often withdrew to lonely places? Sure, it was a way to refuel through prayer. But as I attempt to navigate these craters I’ve come to wonder if a deeper need drove him towards that time with his Good Dad.

Think about it, the more we open our hearts to love the more we expose them to weariness. And there’s never been a more perfect love than his. If I am at times overwhelmed by the crater-marked landscape of suffering, then how much more was he? I only need to look as far as the shortest bible verse –‘Jesus wept’.

This Easter you might be surrounded by bunnies, chocolates and pretty things. You might be dragging from the busyness of holidays. Your heart might be draped in shadows. You might be fighting the notion that you’ve been betrayed.

Dear one, lift your chin to the Son. Squint your eyes to see past the shadows. Cry out to him. Beat your fists against his chest. Take ahold of his pierced hand. Pierced for you. He endured the ultimate suffering so that your suffering can someday be swallowed up in victory.

Unclench your fist. Let it fall into his hand. Go at the craters together. There, only there, will you encounter a miracle – affliction eclipsed by glory.

Laura

 

Riggedy jig and away we go- A tribute to grandma

Today we said goodbye to my grandma.  A memorial day of beautiful, bittter-sweet moments.  And somehow I feel the need to pen a few thoughts before the sun sets on this sacred day.

I’m  fighting to hear her voice again, her laughter ring in my ears. Suddenly this memory surfaces  and I can hear her sing with all gusto ..

.”…Rrr—iggedy jig and away we go, away we go, away we go, riggedy jig and away we go hi -ho, hi -ho,hi -ho.”

I’m 5 again, her soft hand holding mine and my little brother’s on her right.  We’re skipping up the hill by her house off on another grand adventure. Her little poodle, Tuffy tags along and discovers a butterfly on the sidewalk’s edge. Grandma stops us abruptly…  ” Look!!” She exclaims with a twinkle in her eye- “Isn’t that just won-der-ful!” she claps her hands with delight. “Our God is SO good to show us that!!” And then the song resumes and we skip off again into a world full of possibilities.

You see, this.  THIS is how she saw life.  Each day, a gift from Her creator and one step closer to Heaven.  Her eyes were trained to see the beauty all around and she’d often invite others to share in her joy.

I remember the house she and grandpa lived in and how excited we’d be to knock on that thick brown glass door and ring her cathedral chime doorbell.

I remember the front room, and how perfectly clean it was, doilies  covering every table top surface. To a little girl it appeared to be a mansion!!! I remember the honkey- tonk  piano and organ and how I learned my first piano pieces there by her side.

I remember the glass jars of peach rings, Werther’s originals, and Hershey chocolate nugget gold bars. (She’d always encourage us to sneak a few even in our grown up years).  I remember their den where she sat me on her lap and taught me to sew and the stories she’d tell tell while we did. She could captivate any audience with her stories, but children especially. I remember the smell of her lavender soap when we took baths there on overnight stays.

I remember childhood mornings or later in college when I often crashed there for the night. One thing never changed…the morning routine: the smell of coffee brewing, a hot bowl of oatmeal decorated with brown sugar and raisins, and sweet rolls on dainty glass plates at the table in the enclosed patio room. Grandma and Grandpa would begin every day (rain or shine, camping or home, healthy or sick) by cracking open the weathered blue Bible and reading a portion of scripture, then praying for each family member by name.

And then grandma would get up and fill the three bird feeders outside the window with a koolaid- red liquid. We’d  watch with anticipation  to notice which birds might come to visit  THAT day.   Hummingbirds were her absolute  favorite.

And she’d marvel at how God made such tiny creatures who could fly so fast. “Only He could design something like that. …and just imagine, if He could provide for the sparrows how much more will He take care of us??” She’d say.

She loved the Lord and His Word. One year, while taking care of my grandpa with Alzheimer’s, things were getting especially rough. Grandma had cared for him tirelessly.  She explained how Psalm 91 was her anchor. And she told us any grandchild who memorized  the chapter would get $10. We followed bait, line and sinker -dollar signs in our eyes.. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High God, will rest in the shadow of the Almighty....” What Grandma knew was that  $10 was a tiny investment compared to the deposit it made in our personal journeys with God.  For each of us, we’ve  clung  to those memorized truths in our toughest days.

We loved doing life with her. Each of the grandkids (and even our spouses) have a chapter we can point back to of weekly meals/Bible studies/scrabble games with Grandma. And we treasure those memories. She was just the type of lady people wanted to be around. Her joy and laughter, contagious.  

In recent  years my little family would accompany my dad and visit her at the retirement home where she lived. Though dementia was sneaking its way in, she had these great moments  of wit and humor. We’d sing and laugh together. She’d marvel at the kids’ voices saying “beau-ti-ful !!” and maybe encourage them to take a ride on her motorized scooter or “for Pete’s sake”  at least have “nut and chew” See’s candy.  We’d all leave encouraged and happy. That’s the affect she had on people.

Then one Tuesday morning  in February, just after her 92nd birthday, she woke with a stomach ache and was surprisingly gone within the hour.

As the doors to the hospital were being thrown open..the gates of heaven were doing the same. Heaven gained a saint.

Days later, I  helped my dad clean out her room, and a lady named Martha  stopped  by. With tears in her eyes she said, “I’m the housekeeper. Every Monday I’m here cleaning but I save your grandma’s room for last. She’s always here watching TBN and after my shift I sit for a spell and we sing hymns together and then we pray. There’s a lot of darkness in this world but she, she was a light of Jesus.

I sat on grandma’s bed with Martha  that day and cried big, fat, ugly tears because it wasn’t just US who knew the wonder of our grandma..it was everyone who came in contact with her. And even in her last days, when her mind was foggy and dementia set in….her foundation stood firm. She delighted in God and loved His people.

So tonight as the casket has been lowered, the ceremonies concluded, and the sun sets on the hills, I imagine Grandma looking down from heaven with that twinkle in her eye saying (like she did at the end of every phone call) “goodbye dearie.”

And I imagine her skipping off into heaven singing: “riggedy jig and away we go…hi -ho, hi -ho, hi- ho..”

Goodbye Grandma. We will miss you.

-Alyssa

living in the dusk

There are moments when a seemingly obscure passage in scripture just leaps from the page and spears your heart.

This happened as I worked through John chapter 11. It is the story of Lazarus. A beloved friend of Jesus who died and was resurrected to life in order to bring glory to God.

If you know scripture, then I would imagine you have studied this passage and all that it conveys and foreshadows…with Jesus’ death and resurrection.

This time, verses 9 and 10 leaped out at me. They stared boldly into my face and issued a challenge.

Let me share:

“Are there not twelve hours in the day? If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world. But if anyone walks in the night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.”

These twelve hours can symbolize an entire life. Devoted to God and walking in his will, filled with light and not darkness. When we seek him in all we do and in all we purpose to do, we are able to see clearly where he would have us go.

Now, that doesn’t mean life is easy. Climbing a challenging hill, even in the middle of the day, is still challenging. However, climbing a challenging hill in the darkness of night, in the black that would have you stumble and grope for each step, is SO much harder.

When we allow God to guide us, lead us, and direct our every step, we walk in light. Pure, illuminating, stumble-free light.

So, what about dusk? Or dawn? Or the twilight of evening..where light fades and darkness arises, or darkness fades and the sun emerges? How many of us are living in these half-lit areas?

We like the darkness of our sin. We like to have control over our lives and choose our own steps. We dabble in the dark. Yet, we still claim the light. It’s right there. It’s low…and dim…and not quite filling the sky…but it is there.

We embrace the selfish sinfulness of our hearts, but we attend church. We covet what others have, but we tithe generously. We have materialistic hearts, but we serve in ministry. We skirt the edges of the sun while dipping our toes in darkness. It is hard to let go.

There is beauty in darkness. The stars in the sky. The lights of the universe on display. The moon in all its phases. There is beauty in darkness. And trickery. Our eyes adjust to the lack of light and we think we can see. We determine that the darkness isn’t so bad and that we can manage. This is how we justify our sin. We adjust to its normalcy and move forward. Sure we stumble, but if we don’t get hurt, then it is not that bad…right??

We stumble occasionally and blame the darkness. We have sure footing other times and credit the light. We allow ourselves the stagnancy of living in the dusk. Always balancing a bit of the dark with the light.

God wishes for us so much more! For those who have completely abandoned the light it is sometimes the painful fall over a cliff, and for others it is just enough to send a beautifully brilliant sunset to lure you back toward light.

If you allow him…he can draw you through the darkness and bring you to the dawn of a new life, where only light, and sun, and warmth prevail. Where the road is not always sure-footed…but at least you can see.

My prayer today is for God to reveal the dusk in my heart. The dusk in my life. And bring me back into the brilliancy of day.

– Carrie

Carrie McChesney is a jill-of-all-trades who speaks, writes, photographs, and studies scripture all while raising two wild little men and remodeling their mountain home.

 

No and Yes

Yesterday God said no to me.

It was something I really wanted. Something I thought He wanted for me. Something that would be so good for me. So good for my family.

But God said no.

So today, I am pouting. Like my eight year old when I tell her no, she can’t have another snack 5 minutes before dinner. I am pouting. Bummed out. Pity-party city. I am sad.

And my sadness takes me back to another time when God said no. For several years the answer was no. That’s a long time for an American! Our culture doesn’t like to wait for anything. Patience is not our virtue.

I really wanted a baby ‒another baby to make Sela a big sister. I was sure it was what was best for her. I couldn’t understand why God didn’t agree. But month after month, I got the same answer.

No.

It made my heart heavy, and I struggled not to question God’s character. I wasn’t so sure how much God loved me. Every month I would hear his exponentially-bigger voice bellow down to me:

No.

Nope.

Ummmm no.

With each passing month, His voice in my head became harsher. More calloused and unkind. God’s voice in my head was cruel.

What does God’s voice in your head sound like? Is it mean? Punishing? Indifferent to your pain? If it is, then that is not God’s voice.

Listen closer.

For the Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love… (Psalm 103:8)

During those dark days of infertility, I learned to listen more intently to the heart of God, as it is revealed in His Word. I reflected back on what I already knew of His character and the many ways I had already seen Him work in lives around me. When God says no to His kids, He is not harsh, cruel or indifferent. Just the opposite: God’s no is kind. It is grace-filled and rich in love. Friends, listen for that sweet voice!

If you’re a mom, you know how this works. You’ve likely had one of those heart-wrenching moments when you have to deprive your child of something he really wants. Reeeaaalllly wants. Because you are bigger and wiser, you can see that this something is not what is best for your little one. But oh how your baby wants that something! In their limited understanding, this something would make life so much better. And they waaaaant it. And now you are an ogre. And you never loved them. You are officially the meanest mom. Ever.

Yes, sometimes love says no.

Sometimes Love says no to His kids, too.

So back to my present pouting. I am trying to find a better word for my crappy attitude. Whiney. Grumpy. In a funk…

Downcast. That’s what the Bible calls it.

Downcast: “low in spirit : dejected” (according to MerriamWebster). Low in spirit ‒that sounds much nicer than grumpy. I can own that. Sometimes the circumstances of life bring us low in spirit. God’s Word is actually full of examples of people who were downcast.

From Psalm 42

My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.

Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me— a prayer to the God of my life.

Why, my soul, are you downcast?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

And this brings me to the yes. (remember the title?)

See, if I can take my focus off of the no, then just maybe I can lift my head and remember how many times the Lord has said yes to me. And I can allow this to restore my hope and refresh my praise.

When I was lost in my sin, desperate and without hope, God said yes. He lifted me from the pit, and set me on a rock. When we were vulnerable and alone, like sheep without a shepherd ‒like people without an identity‒ God said yes. He said yes to the shame, the rejection. He said yes to the cross, the grave. I asked Him to take my brokenness and give me wholeness, and He said yes. I needed a savior, a protector and a friend, and He said yes.

I asked Him to love me all my days and never let me go, and He said yes.

Sometimes, God says no.

But, when we needed it most, He said yes.

God said yes.

 

-Janel

 

 

 

 

 

 

Janel Thomas is a dear friend to those that know her. She is a wife and a mom to three girls – ages 8, 10 and 14. She attended Westmont College where she received her degree in sociology and worked for 8 years in full-time ministry. At present, in between school drop-offs and pick-ups, she works as a church communications coordinator, leads a school care ministry, and is a full-time encourager to all those around her.

Time-out

The countdown is on.

10 days till Christmas morning.

 

December’s pace is SO difficult to SLOW DOWN because – you know- all the festivities and fa-la-la’s.

No one ever told me what December meant for a mama- as if our to-do lists are not long enough. (I already struggle with OVERCOMMITTMENT in the normal year- for the LOVE!)

This month we add, gold medal- Olympicized expectations of ourselves that only Superwoman could really achieve.

  • Have your house decorated to the nines and immaculately CLEAN so that at any moment you can welcome in a stranger, be featured in a home tour,or at least highlighted on an Instagram newsreel.
  • Be at every child’s performance, class party, and sports event and provide home -baked goods and cute little pinteresty hand-crafted goody bags for each participant and teacher/coach.
  • Bake Alton Brown award winning organic, gluten, dairy and sugar-free cookies with your kids, (but only eat veggies and kale yourself so you don’t have too many pounds to record on your new year’s resolution…)
  • DIY all your Christmas gifts for family & friends and wow others with your hand knit king-sized blankets for your tribe Christmas morning
  • Follow through with traditions from past years so the kids have amazing memories and have less baggage to talk to their counselors about in future years.
  • Say “YES” to every invitation for parties, gift exchanges, Santa sightings, and plays so that your family is FULLY cultured in all things ARTSY- like a family full of Renaissance people.
  • Fit in a service opportunity to give back so you don’t feel too guilty about all the THINGS that have gone on your credit card this month in the name of AMAZON.
  • Create a packing list and prep for traveling abroad, or gleefully welcome out of town relatives into your peaceful little casita.
  • Finally, Post pictures of cuddle time on the couch with blankets so that others think you’re taking it easy with your people and soakin’ in the peace of the season.

These are crazy high expectations we put on ourselves.

And I’m bummed at myself for year after year, falling prey to the lion of lies.

And so, like a 49ers referee I’m blowing my whistle and throwing a big “T” (on myself & you) for a TIME OUT.

And In my heart I  hear YOU say, “Breathe. ”

“What’s important? What do you really value? What can you say “no” to?

Johnny Diaz sings it on K-LOVE radio, but every time it comes on I turn it up because it’s Jesus’ words to ME!

BREATHE….just breathe.

Come and rest at my feet.

And be…just be…

Chaos calls ….but all you really need.

Is to just breathe.

All you really need is….

to take it in.

Fill your lungs

 It’s the PEACE of God that overcomes.

Just Breathe.

Let your weary spirit rest

Lay down what’s good and find your best

Just breathe.

 

Today I want to invite us to BREATHE. close our eyes, be silent, remember our Prince of PEACE who came in a quiet way. That simple nativity scene in the midst of the lights and the loud jingles and the sugar highs and the lists of WANT’s.

We have life.

We have each other.

We have  a king who offers us peace when we surrender to Him.

For just a moment today….

Let’s breathe.

-Alyssa

« Older posts

© 2024 Revealing The Story

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑