Do You Recognize the God Moments?

My son's teacher emailed last week to remind me to stay for chapel on Tuesday because little man would be receiving the character award for this month in his kindergarten class.

Imagine my delight and knowing thankfulness when she informed me he would be receiving a character award for none other than JOY.

I found it no coincidence that the Bible verse we memorized for the month was Psalm 16:11--the same verse that has been written on the chalkboard in my bathroom since our journey to California first began.

"You make known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand."

There has been JOY throughout this entire journey. Joy in the changes, joy in the process, joy in the disappointments, joy in the transitions, joy in the loneliness, joy in the hard, joy in the new. Ever-present JOY.

Which leads me to finally write down a definition of joy for which I've been searching, based solely on my experiences: Joy is experiencing and being filled with the moment-by-moment presence of God in your life.

It's not simply the knowledge that He is there. No, I've always known He was there. Believing He is an omnipresent God has never been the issue.  Practicing living my life in a such a way that I realize He is actually WITH me at all times--now that's a whole other discipline in itself. (Matthew 28:20)

Experiencing His presence in the every day, the mundane, the ordinary,  the grocery-store moments, the car-driving interims, the twinkle of a child's eye, the mention of something silly in a conversation or on the radio--experiencing God in all those moments--this is where the rubber meets the road.

Joy is an experience of the Holy Spirit. It's a continuing event. It's not just a state of mind. Joy occurs when you open your eyes to the eternal life of all God has created around you, to the truth of how He has designed you. Little 'ole you. (Ephesians 1)

One of my favorite authors, Ann Voskamp, writes in her book One Thousand Gifts about seeing God in everything around you, even the tiny bubbles in your dish washing water. When I first read that, my immediate reaction was, "Ok. I get where she's coming from. But come on. Really? Soap bubbles? Isn't it exhausting, a little over the top to see God in everything?" And quite honestly, I scoffed a little thinking, "Well, Ann just might be a little too holy, a little too deep for me."

Really?  Is there any such thing as too holy? Joy abounds in the experience of all things holy, and since this world is sinful and fallen and eaten up with the unholy, sometimes we balk at things that are even subtlety holy...like seeing God in soap bubbles.

So if God is the only true Holy Entity in all of creation, then seeing glimpses of God anywhere in anything  (like soap bubbles and ocean waves) is probably the best we're going to get to actually seeing the holiness and glory of God in this sin-filled, fleshly body.

And to see God, even just a glimpse of Who He is, to relish in a moment that God is choosing to reveal Himself through a set of circumstances, a person, a place, a thing, a thought, a song, anything--to be aware of and to capture that moment with a smile and prayer of awe and gratefulness--THAT process, THAT experience, THAT continual event is JOY. It equals joy. It is the definition of joy.

And if you're blissfully ignorant or distracted by busyness or naively unaware, undiscerning--you will miss the God moments happening all around you. Like the gift of sunshine on a day when your heart feels heavy. Or the phone call from a friend when you are in the pit of loneliness.  What about that Bible verse that popped out of nowhere into your day? Or the neighbor you've never really spoken with gladly opening her home to care for your dog?

Do you recognize the God moments? Are you tapped into, abiding in the Holy Spirit such that you see Him? (John 15:5) Hear Him? That Voice that said turn left instead of right that kept you out of hours of traffic--did you thank Him for that? That prompting to stop what you're doing and play a game with your kids then having conversations with them you could have never prompted. Did you thank God for that prompt in your spirit?  Did you give Him the credit--the glory--where credit is due?

This is joy living, friends. And it's not always hugs and butterflies and good feelings. What about that verse you felt the Lord leading you to tape to the middle of your steering wheel? (Psalm 62:8) And then she dies and that verse stays taped to your steering wheel for 18 months until you feel the Spirit say, "It's time for a new thing." And you realize, looking back, that in the midst of your grieving, in the center of the hard, in the middle of your pain, that verse has helped you experience joy in small moments when the searing heat of the loss seemed too much to bear.

No, joy is not just for the good times. It can be your only glimpse of light in the bad times as well. Joy is the flower that blooms in the rubble of what remains after destruction has passed, but it is also the eye of the hurricane. Joy can be lived, experienced, at any point in time.

Because God is everywhere at all times in all things (Jeremiah 23:23-24); therefore, we can experience Him, see Him, at all times in all things (Psalm 139:7-12); therefore we can have joy at all times in all things (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). Of this I am confident.

Open your eyes, my friends. Start by seeing yourself as God sees you (1 Peter 2:9). Then look around and see if you can't find Him even in the soap bubbles while washing your dishes (Acts 17:27).  And soon, you will find yourself being a light of joy to others when you weren't even trying, you weren't really even thinking about other people, you were just thinking about your Good God and how grateful you are He calls you His own, yet in that process, you shine JOY to those around you, and they notice, and it makes a difference.

See God in all things, and others will experience God through you. That's how you spread the joy. See God. And thank Him that He sees you exactly. where. you. are. Right now. In your circumstances, in your stage of life.

Did you see your God moment today? Did you recognize it? Can you reflect and find it? If so, you found joy my friend, you found JOY. 

Now keep finding it.

Romans 15:13 

May the God of hope 

fill you with all JOY and peace 

as you trust in Him, 

so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Dear Children

Dear Children,

We saw God's creation this weekend in all His glory. We saw trees as tall as giants, thousands of years old, reaching to heaven, incomprehensible in size. We saw mountains majestic, wrapped in blankets of clouds. We witnessed such a small piece of the glory of God, of His testimony to us of His greatness. 

Remember that.

Because one day someone is going to try to tell you it all evolved over millions of years from the nothingness of a Big Bang. One day someone is going to plant seeds of doubt in your mind and make you wonder if maybe you can actually logically explain it all away.

Children, don't believe them. Don't let them steal the joy and the wonder of believing in Someone so much bigger than you, Someone so much more than you. Because we're just not all we'd like to make ourselves out to be. And people try to make God small, so they don't have to fear Him, so they can be in control, so they can be all-knowing and all-powerful.  But in trying to make God small, understandable, explainable, we rob ourselves of joy.

Never let them steal the awe of creation out of your soul with their studies and facts and speculations. That feeling in your gut, in your very being, when you stand gaping so small at the base of a tree...a tree for goodness sakes!!! Never lose that feeling of being so small, so humbled that your heart just knows God HAD to create this with His very words because no other explanation really speaks to the testimony of the intricacy of what you're seeing, feeling, and experiencing.

Only the words of the Alpha Omega God could design the beauty in this world, giving us just a small peak into His own glory. Only His words.

And don't feel like you have to defend yourself to the critics, the skeptics, the non-believers. There are facts to support what your soul already knows if you feel called to know, but there's also Genesis 1 and Job 12:7-10 and Psalm 19:1-4 and Romans 1:20 and Deuteronomy 29:29. And that's all you really need. The faith of a child that you have now that still just simply believes. Never lose that.

After all these years, your Mama stills feels giddy like a child in the presence of God's creation. It may be one of the few areas of my life that I haven't allowed the world's view to completely jade, and I pray I could gift that to you as well--the joy of the innocence of childlike faith. See God, children. See Him in everything. See Him all around you, but my prayer is that you grow to see Him in you, the pinnacle of His creation and the apple of His eye.  If you want to know who you are children, how you were created, how you came into existence and for what purpose--seek Him. Ask Him.  Find Him, for He is not far from each one of us (Acts 17:27), and He will tell you exactly who He says you are, who He created you to be (1 Peter 2:9).

With all my hope in Christ for your future,
Your Mama

The Call of the Ocean: Joy Living

Can you see the buoy?  The tiny speck in the middle of the picture that you think might be dirt on your computer screen? In the middle of the ocean? In the midst of the choppiness? Can you see it? Seriously, it's a speck on the horizon from this distance. A fleck of black in the middle of the picture.

I want to tell you a story, and your job is to see how many spiritual applications you can make for your own life because I can make a book's worth, but this is just a blog:)

---

I love the ocean. Love. Adore. I am perpetually drawn to her glory in pictures, in movies, from my childhood years to this very moment. It calls to everything inside of me, to how God made me. I would love nothing more than to see every coastline God has made on this blue earth, just to sit at their edges and marvel and wonder and feel so small, yet so loved.

The ocean's vastness speaks to my soul like the presence of God. It's deep yet accessible, unchartable yet discoverable, mysterious yet knowable, seemingly unpredictable at times, but always constant in what it is. It is powerful. Very powerful. Yet gracious and majestic and giving. It takes and gives life. It demands respect lest the complacent fall. It is the closest earthly example I have found to what experiencing God's presence in full might be like.

And lest you mistake me for worshipping the ocean itself at this point, let me be clear that I'm certain God's literal presence will be so much more than even this mere, watery creation can compare. But if you study her, if you listen, I think she sings the Hallelujah Chorus of His glory.

And she is a creation through which Creator God continues to teach me little lessons about Who He is. I have always loved the ocean. Loved it deeply.

Until recently,  I have only ever been able to enjoy it from the shoreline. I learned to boogie board and body surf on the Atlantic coast in what I now realize is relatively safe, reliable surf if you can even truly call it surf. I learned how to read the pull of the undertow and the size of a swell to determine if and when it would break or be strong enough to carry me to shore.

I took some hard hits. I got slammed to the bottom many a time, once even resulted in chipped teeth and a root canal. From these experiences, I learned how pulling your head or arm up at the wrong moment in the middle of a wave could send you tumbling head over heels. I learned how long I could hold my breath when I had to. I learned that some waves are just too powerful. I learned what it meant to know my limits, and I learned also how to push them.

I developed a healthy fear of the power of the ocean from those tumbles and falls.

Fear is good when it's used to weave a curtain of separation from the Holy of Holies inside the tabernacle of our life. God should be feared. Like afraid for our lives, terrified fear. This fear is more than awe or reverence, but it is good and necessary because He is holy, and we are not. He is the ONLY Person, thing, etc. we should truly fear at all.

Fear of God's creation is also good when it ingrains reverence into our lives, but that is all it should do: create a reverent space for a Fearfully, Powerful God to be God and Lord of His creation. Fear should not and would not stop me from returning to the ocean after every tumble--returning wiser, stronger, more determined. More reverent. More aware.

And the older I grew, the more of the ocean I desired. I wanted bigger waves. I wanted to swim with the dolphins. I wanted to be out in the middle of the water with only the shoreline a distant shadow on the horizon. I wanted to be surrounded by its presence, engulfed by its vastness.

So when we moved here, to California, a paddle board was the only thing I wanted. I finally lived fifteen minutes from the ocean, and every chance I got, I longed to be by the ocean's edge. It didn't take long before watching surfers and paddle boarders surrounded by dolphins made me desire more than just the coastline. The ocean beckoned me to step out of my boat and onto the water. I didn't have to be just a spectator.

So I took my paddle board to the harbor where it is safe and calm and protected. I learned to balance, to shift my weight in small increments adjusting to the surface of the water. I learned to be flexible and well-balanced, pushing my power and strength through my core into the foundation of the board beneath me. (All those yoga classes for the past three years paid their dividends in full!)

I learned to overcome my fear of falling off. It hasn't happened much, but it has happened, and to be honest, in the harbor I'm never afraid to fall because I know how to swim and swim well. I've also never been one to concern myself with the what ifs of the unknown depth beneath me. All God's creatures fascinate me, even the ones perceived as dangerous. Do I fear them in reverence?  Absolutely. But again, that fear doesn't stop me from answering the call of the ocean.

In the harbor, I learned that when it's windy or choppy or rough, you get down on your knees, and that the lower you get on that board, the humbler your stance, the easier it is to stay on the board in strong winds and bigger waves.

It wasn't long until every time I went out in the harbor, I was stronger, faster, more balanced, less fearful, but still diligent to my surroundings.  You never let your guard down when you're on the ocean, even in the harbor. You cannot become complacent. The ocean demands fear at all times, a fervent attention, a harnessed fear, a heightened awareness.

And let me tell you, my first time out around the circuit of that smooth, calm harbor, I went slow. Painfully slow. My heart pounded, and every muscle in my body shook. I learned to breath deep and focus that breath into the muscles, willing my heart rate to slow so I wouldn't pass out, and when I didn't think I was strong enough, I dropped to my knees, and waited for my surroundings to calm, yet always paddling forward. One slow, determined stroke at a time.

I spent many weeks in the harbor. I grew stronger. I grew content. I grew confident. I grew comfortable.

The ocean still called.

One day I had made up my mind it was time to venture out to that buoy in the picture. The harbor entrance is over to its right, just beyond the right edge of the picture, and the buoy is about a quarter of a mile out from the end of the jetty that protects the harbor. The ocean called.

And I'm not kidding you, the day I rounded the bend to set my board on a course to the ocean out of the harbor, I literally heard the sound of the sea lions barking. Beckoning. Where were they?!?!? I paddled a little harder, a little faster. Would I miss them? Would they be gone when I got there?

I could see the end of the jetty, buoy in the distance, and there at the edge of the protected harbor and the humanly unpredictable swells of the ocean were happy sea lions barking and swimming and splashing at the end of the jetty, playing at the corner of the jetty rocks where the ocean waves crashed lightly.

They were ten feet away. I had dropped to my knees so I could enjoy the scene. I sat back on my heels and let the ocean waves rock me back and forth at the edge of that jetty for quite some time. Sea lions!  Real, uncaged, wild and free sea lions. I wanted to touch them so badly, but I knew better. Besides, here I was at the edge once more with the ocean calling. That buoy was calling.

I turned from the sea lions, rose up only to my knees, and set my course for that buoy. 

And my heart was pounding so hard. It throbbed large in the back of my throat threatening to choke my breath. My stomach twisted tight into knots that threatened to be vomited. I was keenly aware of adrenaline screaming through my temples and my blood. I was terrified.

Terrified of falling, terrified of what lay beneath. Terrified of the mass of water flowing around and underneath me. Terrified.

The swells. Oh the swells of the ocean! Their immensity. Their mass. Their power. It was tempting to fall down prone on my board and weep. Cling to the board, stop paddling, turn around, go back to safety--but the ocean kept calling.

I made it to that buoy, turned myself around and paddled back as fast as I could. I never actually stood up again until back in the harbor, and even then the adrenaline rushing through my body had me trembling from inside out. My muscles felt like jello. My heart was tempted to burst.

But oh the joy!!!! The exhilaration!  I cannot put into words the lightness my soul felt. The pure ecstasy of what God had just helped me do! And in that environment, in those swells, in that open water, that's exactly Who had made it to the buoy. The sheer will-power of Christ in me. Yes, I had prepared, practiced, and strengthened--probably my whole life looking back--but even those training grounds were God's providence.

No. There is nothing of me good enough, strong enough, or controlled enough that would enable me to go to that buoy. That was God. The call of my God who was heightening my abilities and was equipping me in the very process of paddling to that buoy, in the very midst of those swells.

I would have never gone had I not been called.

Funny thing is once you experience how God works in the face of overwhelming circumstances,  something inside you has to try it again. Test Him again. Do the adventure with Him again. Maybe that's the only healthy addiction there is--to follow God into uncharted waters.

So the next time, I was still equally terrified, but not as unsure. I trusted more. Now the call was to stand. Stand and paddle to the buoy and back.  I could always drop back to my knees if it became too much. So I stood. I stood and paddled to the buoy and back, and oh the joy, the rush, the exhilaration of trusting God in the unknown!!!!

Now after a few more times, after you've grown a bit more comfortable, something inside you goes looking for the unknown, you're looking for the difficult, the uncharted, the adventure because you're addicted to the rush, the pure joy, the sense of overwhelming worship that washes over you when your feet come safely back to dry land. God is fun! He is awesome to hang out with, to do life with, yet when you answer His call, you can't help but completely fear Him as well. Fear Who He is, what He can do and be terrified of the process, yet trusting His awesomeness at the same time, trusting that even if a giant, great white shark came and ripped you off that board, you could smile and know that was His plan, His doing, what He allowed.

I'm not saying be stupid; I'm saying be wise, harness faith and all the tools God has given on the training grounds of life, but don't let fear of the unknown rob you of the joy of living the life God calls you to live! It is pure, unadulterated JOY!

And it keeps you looking to Him for more because only He can provide the healthy rush. Life has taught me everything done in my own strength, timing, and power leads me to a dangerous pit, an unhealthy addiction to pride, control, and self-promotion. There's no joy to be had there.

So instead I keep listening and seeking to answer the call. 

Today, the call was to get out of the harbor and put in at the shoreline and paddle out to that buoy. Because as scary as those shoreline waves appear, I know that if I don't need the harbor, if I don't need the calm waters, the safe place to get my balance, then the world is my playground.  Every coastline can become a new opportunity of exploration and adventure if I can learn to paddle out past the breakers.

So today I waded into the knee high waves at the shoreline, feeling the pull of the tide wrap sand around my ankles like tentacles sucking me out, but I wasn't going under. I jumped on the board, pulled up to my knees, and paddled out hard through the constant rise and fall of the shoreline swells. And my heart raced and my throat closed and my stomach tightened as I paddled out to that buoy, that speck on the horizon. And the choppiness was daunting, but I did it! I made it to the buoy, smiled at the sea lions who raised their heads in apathetic recognition and turned around to paddle back.

Before paddling back though, I sat back on my heels in the middle of the ocean and smiled, bobbing up and down on the swells, watching the rays of sunlight break through the clouds on the horizon over the mountainside. And I closed my eyes and breathed deep the joy of the gift of the Lord.

I had turned my board to face the shoreline, to begin paddling back when I heard the whisper of the call of the ocean once more. I turned my head slightly to gaze out and back over my left shoulder, well past the jetty wall at the end of the harbor--who knows how far out--to where a green buoy bobbed and beckoned in the distance. A very far distance.

And for a second, in my joy I turned to paddle to that buoy, but the call faded and the words of my husband came to mind, "If you want to go to that buoy, I want you to wear one of those life preserver belts." And so I stopped.

God reminded me I wasn't prepared--today--for that green buoy. The call was still very real, but not now, not today.

No, it was time to paddle back to shore, but instead of on my knees, I could try standing up. I could attempt to strengthen my balance and reaction time on the open water. I could begin to learn the feeling of the shift of the waves as they pulled and pushed, carrying me into shore. I could begin to learn the ways of the waves. I could attempt to paddle surf back into shore.  The call of the green buoy was not to be answered today, but these things I could do.

So with heart racing, throat closing, stomach tightening once again, I rose slowly to my feet in the middle of the ocean, and I paddled back to shore.  My legs were trembling the same as blades of grass in the breeze.  I willed them to hold me steady. I trusted my God to take me back to the shore, and I pressed that trust through my legs, hard into the surface of the board.

Paddle. Balance. Breathe. Bend. If you fall, you know you can swim. If you fall, remember to grab your sunglasses. Paddle. Balance. Breathe. Bend.

JOY!!!!!

I paddle surfed that board all the way back into shore. Oh the rush, the exhilaration, the anticipation of the next adventure out!

"My God is so great, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do!" My heart sang. Nothing He can't accomplish through me, with me, in me. Oh the joy of being used by God, of answering His call!

The green buoy still beckons in the far off distance beyond the jetty wall, but I think I have some sea legs to build first, some surfing to learn, and some safety gear to add before answering that call. All in God's time. He does not birth a dream, a calling, that He does not intend to bring to life. (I stole that beauty from my friends over at BeStillBeFree.)

How the Lord goes about bringing that calling to life just might look very different from what I'd imagine though. So I'm learning to sink down, be still, and be free to grow in the space and time and circumstances that God allows, that He has ordained for this season of my life.

I'm paddling with God wherever He leads, and It. Is. Good. THIS is joy realized. Joy living.

What is it that calls you? Beckons to your soul?  What buoy is on your horizon? Where is your training ground? With what have you been trained? Already equipped? Where is your harbor, your testing grounds, your safe place? Where or what is your ocean? What is it that's too big for you? Too overwhelming? What is your board? What is your foundation, the thing that keeps you afloat? Where is God calling you next? Does He have you in a season of preparation for that journey? Or is He calling you to go ahead and paddle out?  Open your eyes.  Be aware.  God is speaking to you, all around you; He's calling you to something new.

Live Joy my friends! Live life with joy. Live life with God.

How To Be Brave

I have had so many people comment during this transition that I/we have been "so brave."  People admire my/our "bravery."  People comment that it's a very "brave thing we are doing, moving out here on faith."

And it's made me stop and consider what it means to actually be brave.  Because that is not an adjective I would ever use to describe myself.  It's not really even in the top 10.  Organized--yes.  Loyal--yes. Determined--yes.  Brave? Not so much.

I think it's because when my inner eye looks at myself in that inner mirror, I still see a tortured middle school student with a mouth full of metal braces and rubber bands trying to style her bangs into an awkward warp wall curving four inches off the top of her head held in place by an entire can of hairspray.  I see a girl with defeated self-esteem by her acne and lack of style in any arena of hair or clothing.  I see the girl that stared in the mirror all through high school trying to see what God saw, begging Him to show her. Trying to accept her sturdy-built body, Bounds legs (which are technically-speaking, small tree trunks inherited from my father's side of the family), shoulders that would rival a football players pads, and the hair--ugh.  I grew up in the '90's, people, when Rachel's (from the TV show Friends) straight thick hair was all the rage and my mess of fine, naturally curly poof wasn't making the cut.  It was more Jessie's style from Saved By the Bell, I just didn't have her tall, curvy body to pull it off.

So no, brave is not a word I have ever used to describe myself.  Ever.  Shy, unsure of my appearance at all times, socially a bit awkward (for reasons I will save for another day), and desperate for people to include me, to be my friend, to see me how God saw me because I wanted to see myself through His eyes so desperately.  Brave?  No.  Terrified at all times?  Quite possibly.

So then, I have to ask myself, 'What does it mean to be brave?'  Why do people think I'm brave now? What changed? And when did it change?  And how?

I like how my husband defines being brave.  He says whenever he thinks of what it must mean to be brave, he thinks about David and Goliath. (1 Samuel 17) He thinks about how David RAN at that giant. He didn't stand still, he definitely didn't back down, no, he ran AT Goliath. (1 Samuel 17:48)

And so I started to think about milestones in my life that have required what one might consider bravery, areas in my life where I didn't back down, I didn't run away, but I faced what was in front of me, and even welcomed the challenge--I ran at it.

There was that eighth grade camp where God had spoken to my heart that I was to come home and obey whatever my parents asked of me.  I came home to find out they wanted to home school me for high school.  Gulp.  'Ok, God. You said it.  Let's do it.'  Do you know how many home school jokes I have weathered my entire life because of that choice???

There was that moment my senior year when I experienced a terribly lonely season in life, and God called me to go on a mission trip to Ecuador with a church I had never attended and a group of people I did not know.  Complete strangers.  My first time in a foreign country.  It's still one of the most impactful events in my life.  It opened my eyes to a world outside of mine that was suffering and lost and in need of a Savior, a Savior I knew.  A Savior I too often took for granted.

There was that moment when I stepped out of my living room from watching trigonometry videos to finding my way around to classes on a college campus at Kennesaw State University.  Talk about throwing the fish into the frying pan.  I was petrified.

There was that moment in Earth Algebra 101 I realized I was the only one in the class who didn't know what a logarithm was and was completely lost on the first day of my first college math class. So I quelled the panic and marched myself directly to the tutoring lab every day after class to get help. I'd never needed help like that before in my life. The thought of failure was terrifying.

Then there was the moment I left home for  the first time ever to marry the man I love to move to Chattanooga. Tennessee.  Gulp. At the time, that was VERY far away from home. I went, but in hindsight,  I went kicking and screaming, but eventually made the best of it.

I could name countless more "moments" in my life that required what some might call bravery. Flashes-in-the-pan moments. Things at the time I felt I had no choice, no say in the matter. Things I realize now, God had prepared for me in my journey, in my process called life, to ready me for every step ahead. To ready me for where I sit now on an opposite coast, meeting complete strangers, and trying to lead two small children through the process as well. (Which, complete side note, my children are two of the bravest people I know. Everything is new for them, and they often face new Sunday class rooms, play dates, etc. alone, by themselves. I wonder what God is preparing their lives for......anyways...)

I faced all those fears and unknowns, all those "giants" head on. I might have tried to run, but I didn't.  I might have stumbled in my stance at times, but ultimately held my ground.  And every time, eventually, it took less and less prodding from my Jesus to run....run AT that giant! Attack it head on in His name. He had already equipped me for victory. (Romans 8:37; 1 Samuel 17:34-37; 1 Corinthians 15:57)

And now, today, the process, the emotions, the feelings, the personal battles I've experienced are really still the same. What's changed is my relationship with the Lord and how He's taught me to wield the weapons He's provided. My Commander in Chief hasn't changed. The weapons available to me haven't changed. His work in and through those past circumstances have changed me. (Ephesians 6:10-18)

His faithfulness has changed me. His steadfastness has taught me to trust fall into Him--eyes closed or eyes wide open, doesn't matter. He's taught me to fight. He's taught me to run at my giants with full reliance in my Mighty God. (1 Samuel 17:45-47)

And I didn't even know that's what He was doing.

My whole life He's been teaching me how to be brave, so that one day when someone says I am brave, I can honestly say, "Not me. Only God. HE makes me brave."

So maybe you don't think you're brave either. Maybe there's some other compliment you've gotten lately that you think, 'Yeah right. That's totally NOT me.' Maybe it IS you. Maybe the picture of how you see yourself needs to grow and change and blossom into the picture of how God sees you. And maybe in that moment, when you hear that compliment, you need to take two seconds and acknowledge the One who has formed you over time into a person you probably only ever dreamed of being.

And if you're the person still dreaming,  hoping you'll be a brave soldier some day, someone who's fearless, someone who conquers giants, have no fear, my friend. He's been giving you or allowed giants your whole life you probably didn't know were giants. Some of them have probably defeated you at times, which is why you keep having to face them again and again and again. Some of them you have defeated before, which is why the next time you face them they seem bigger, stronger.

The key is to remember David. No matter how small you think you may be, how insignificant, God has equipped you in your lifetime to defeat your giant. Your giants. (Ephesians 2:10; 2 Timothy 3:16-17)

Remember your God. Remember what He has already done for you, accomplished in you, worked through you. (Psalm 77:11) Wield your weapons of the Spirit, of the Word, of prayer. Practice with them. Spar with them.(Philippians 4:9) Take out the lions and the bears in your path, then when the giants rise up and challenge your faith, challenge the name of your Mighty God in your life, then in the name of Jesus Christ you RUN at those giants!

Can't you just hear David's righteously indignant reply to Goliath?  Can't you see the fire in his eyes, the determination in his stance, and the holy fierceness with which He might just have boldly spat these words at his enemy:

“You come to me with a sword, a spear, and a javelin (the weapons of this world), but I come to you in the name of theLord of hosts, THE God of the armies of Israel, whom you have taunted. This day the Lord will deliver you up into my hands, and I will strike you down and remove your head from you.(Do you hear his confidence? His trust?) And I will give the dead bodies of the army of the Philistines this day to the birds of the sky and the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, (there is a God in Jennifer's life)  and that all this assembly may know that the Lord does not deliver by sword or by spear; for the battle is the Lord’s (it's already HIS--let that sink in...) and He will give you into our hands.” Then it happened when the Philistine rose and came and drew near to meet David, that David RAN quickly toward the battle line to meet the Philistine.  (1 Samuel 17:45-48 emphasis mine)

What giant is mocking you in your life? Is mocking your Great God, the God you love, the God who died for you? What giant dares to speak lies against you and against Him?  Do you recognize the lies? Do you burn with righteous anger against your enemy? (Psalm 119:78, 86)

Do you know what to do next?

You run. You run quickly. You pick up the weapons He has given you, and you trust fall into His greatness, and you count your own life as lost for His Name's sake (Philippians 3:8), and you run TOWARD your giant. No matter the outcome. You run. (1 Corinthians 9:24-27 ; Hebrews 12:1-3)

And what happens?  You BOTH get the victory, and HE gets all the glory.  That's just the way it works best for everyone.  We humans tend to be encumbered by pride after all.

So run your race toward your giants and be brave in the way God created you to be brave.  It looks different for everyone.  I bet if you sat and thought about it for a moment, you can remember some "moments" of your own life that were flashes-in-the-pan instances of bravery. But I pray you too will see that all those instances have made you into the brave person God designed you to be--a victorious, overcomer in the army of the Living God.

Go today, and be brave in His Name! Be victorious.
Psalm 20:7 "Some boast in chariots and some in horses, But we will boast in the name of the LORD, our God."

Even Christians Have Bad Days

I wouldn't say the "other shoe dropped" or "it hit the fan" or any other silly euphemism that might be a little too dramatic, but last week was definitely a hard week.  I'm not going to blame it on any one thing in particular other than I lost too many battles last week--battles with my kids, my husband, our schedules, my hormones, my thoughts, etc. I felt alone, utterly alone. I felt my humanity.  My fleshly, worldly self was all too real last week.  I was wrapping my mind around all the things my six senses could process instead of the thousands of spiritual truths God has written on my spiritual mind and woven into my inmost being of who He says I am. (Psalm 139; Ephesians 1--"go-to" chapters for who God says I am in Christ.)

No, I just believed all the wrong voices last week.  I gave in, and I cried.  A LOT. I could probably still cry sitting here thinking about it. I was harsh with my children, with my husband, but mostly with myself. And it hurt.  Everything about where I am at this point in my journey in life just hurt, and I fully believed the lie that I was alone.  Completely alone. (Deuteronomy 31:6, 8; Hebrews 13:5; Matthew 28:20)

And even now as I type this, I can feel the battle raging on the inside.  Half of me is still feeling like that lie is truth.  The other half of me, the half that clings to the feet of my Jesus and wields the Sword of the Spirit in His strength alone, that half is fighting the lie, and honestly, in this moment, it's a draw as to who's winning. (Hebrews 4:12)

And so rages the war of the follower of Christ. (Romans 7)  To be a Christ-follower, a true "Christian" for lack of a better term--even though I dislike that term because it's so flippantly used to describe a body of people that do not always fit the Biblical definition--but to be a true Christian in this worldly, fleshly body is to battle daily, moment by moment. (Ephesians 6:12)

Some days we are so filled with the spirit of Christ that we appear to be Mother Theresa--kind, loving, gentle, humble, full of joy and hope and faith.  On those days, the enemy doesn't stand a chance. (Romans 8:14)

On other days, this sinful flesh our soul calls home on this earth beats us to within an inch of our lives.(2 Corinthians 4:9) The difficulties of a sinful world driven by sin-caused circumstances allowed as natural outcomes by a Sovereign God who lovingly won't make choices for us, but also lovingly doesn't always hold back the consequences of those choices, these difficulties cause us hurt, pain, suffering, loneliness, etc. etc. etc! The list goes on and THE LIST IS THE SAME as those who want nothing to do with Christ in their life.

I think what non-believers miss in all their judgement of Christians being judgmental is we hurt too. We struggle too.  We get angry.  We make mistakes--big ones.  We wear masks.  We mess up.  And yes, we judge others when we shouldn't.  There is not one thing a non-believer experiences on this earth that a Christian does not also experience. We are all human.

We are ALL human.  ALL.  The same ALL that have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.(Romans 3:23) And the truth is, we will continue to fall short of God's glory ALL the days we live and breathe on this fallen earth in this fleshly body. Sin really screwed everything up.(Romans 8:22) There is nothing new under the sun.(Ecclesiastes 1:9)  God's plan for mankind hasn't changed since the beginning of time. (Genesis 3:15) What He has spoken in the Bible, well, some has already come to pass, some is currently coming to pass, and all of it will come to pass.  Mark His words, not mine. (Matthew 24:35)

So in the moment when you, child of God, are having a no good, horrible, very bad day, you've lost the battle, you feel like you're losing the war, remember that as a follower of Christ, as a true Christian, you have something/Someone, those who don't believe do not possess.  YOU HAVE CHRIST!

Jesus Christ!  He is the one thing that separates the lambs from the goats, the redeemed from the condemned.(Matthew 25:31-46)  Your personal relationship with Him is what makes you different; it's what sets you apart from the world.(Hebrews 10:10)  And as far as your bad day goes, Jesus Christ is the only thing that makes you, makes me, different from anyone else in this world, and by George, if He didn't experience some of the worst days of us all?!??!?!?!?  He was rejected by his home town, abandoned by those who loved him in time of need, tortured within an inch of His life before He was murdered under false charges. (Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John)  Now those, those are some pretty bad days.  And He was the Christ.  Not a follower, He was God. (John 10:30)

And today, in the midst of your bad day, in the midst of my bad days, I remember that He IS the Christ. He IS God because He rose again.  On the third day, He rose again.(1 Corinthians 15:4)  And non-believers can scoff and say that I believe in a myth, a legend, that I base my life on the teachings of a "good" man, but He's the only man that's ever risen from the dead by His own power, and that's something. Believe it or not, that's something that no one else in history has ever claimed.

So that's something different. That's something amazing.  That's something that springs new hope in the driest of circumstances.  And if that's not enough, when you choose to grab a hold of that hope and actually believe that Jesus just might be the Someone or something missing from your life, and you start to believe, to have faith...wow!  A whole new world opens up because faith moves mountains.(Matthew 17:20)  Faith is the foundation for trust. Faith shields you from the flaming arrows of the enemy.(Ephesians 6:16)  And then, in just a small mustard seed of faith you find what grows is love because faith is planted in, watered by, and grows out of love. True love.  The most powerful of all the fruits of the spirit because God IS Love. (Galatians 5:22; 1 John 4:8)  He and Love are one and the same.  It is impossible to show true Love without showing other people God Himself.  (No wonder so many have such a twisted view of who God is.  We mess up showing His love all too often...) Faith, Hope, and Love. (1 Corinthians 13:13)

They are powerful weapons in the arsenal of the Christian.  They are sadly too often misused.  Hence why non-believers have every reason to judge us for their misuse. Nevertheless, regardless of their misuse, in Christ, they are still ours to possess, to wield, to master. They cannot be fully possessed, wielded, or mastered by a non-believer.  I'm sorry.  That's just the way it is.  True Christians have the market on life-changing faith, hope, and love. In Christ alone, through Christ alone.  All these things do we possess! (Ephesians 1)

Everyone--but Christ alone--the world, the flesh, the enemy--they sell lies.  Fakes.  Ideas that feel like hope, that feel like faith, that feel like love.(John 10:10; John 8:44)  But Christ is not a feeling.  He is a Person.  He is God who walked this earth in human flesh over 2000 years ago. He is not a feeling.  If what you are currently clinging to is a feeling, you have bought the fake, my friend.  It's trade-in value at the end of time, at the end of your current struggle, is worthless. (Matthew 3:12)

No, my fellow Christians, the bad days will come.  They will.  We are all human.  Not until heaven will we escape the bad days.  And since Christ pretty much promised us suffering for His name's sake, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say we may even have more bad days than our non-believing friends....here....on earth.(2 Timothy 3:12)  But oh the joy of heaven!!!  Oh the joy of ETERNITY with our Christ in His home, our true home.  The faith and the hope and the love for and in our Savior is what gets us through the bad moments, days, weeks, seasons of life.  Cling to that.

Cling to the simpleness of Psalm 119:151: "You are near, O Lord, and all Your commandments are truth." 

Period.  Simple.  To the point. Truth.  Not a lie.  No fuss.  No defense needed.  No more beating yourself up. No condemnation for those in Christ. (Romans 8:1) We will all have hard times, bad days, life-altering horrible moments. We will cry.  A LOT. And our feelings will change and fluctuate and fail us, but in Christ, we have a fixed point, a True North, a Center that does not move, does not change, and for Whom it is impossible to lie.(Malachi 3:6; Hebrews 6:18)

So I think the next time I have a bad day, a bad week, a hard season, I think I might just wallow through my days repeating the phrase, "But I have Christ.  I have Christ.  I have Christ."  And I might mumble it under my breath.  I might take it for granted.  I might roll my eyes and sigh and struggle to live out that truth. But maybe by repeating those words over and over again, my feelings will eventually fall in line with Truth.  It might take a while, but that's ok because after all, I'm only human.

I guess what I'm coming to realize is bad days are inevitable no matter how deep into God's Word you dive.  I think there's a lie in Christian culture we believe that the closer you get to Christ in your walk with the Lord, the lesser the number of bad days you should experience. That lie is based on my own pride in thinking that I could ever get good enough, holy enough, close enough to God to deserve to not have a bad day. So for me, my bad days humble me.  They break me.  They send me kneeling back at the feet of my big, Gracious God, seeking for His help and strength and guidance.

Bad days keep me humble.  They expose my weaknesses.  They remind me that God is enough, and He is all I need to weather the storm. None of me.  All of Him.

So throw yourself a heaping lifeline of grace the next time you're having a bad day.  God's grace is for us all, and in His name--in the name of Jesus Christ--all those who believe in Him will have Hope! (Matthew 12:21)

Stillness:How will you choose to fill it?

There is a Stillness in the wilderness.

I feel it most tangibly in the early morning hours. I feel it cover my being like the down comforter laying over me. Heavy and warm.

It is a dangerous Stillness that creeps under the surface of my whole self.

Dangerous because it is empty and begs to be filled. 

It is empty of activities, lists, to-dos, have-tos, friends, family, familiarity, normality, routine.

It is a Stillness full of time and space and possibility.

It is the Stillness we all long for!  A break from the busy, a break from the mundane, a break from the whirring spin of life, the fast steady pace of what we perceive as purpose-filled living.  It is the Stillness we all long for, yet when it becomes available, it is so foreign and unknown that the ground beneath you feels unstable, unsure. The bed I lay in feels safer than the world outside my door, but even from that perceived haven, the Stillness beckons to be filled.

In these wee early hours, I feel helpless. I feel forgotten. I look at the wide, empty expanse of my days--dry and barren--and I feel lost. I feel like purpose--the activities, the lists, the to-dos, the friends, the family--the things I always mistakenly fall back on as what defines me--they are all gone, all missing. 

And there is a hopelessness,  a uselessness, a loneliness that lurks at the edges of this wilderness Stillness. It wants to seep like a sponge into the dryness. It wants to be absorbed into my soul and take residence.  It wants to usher in depression.

Ah, but not today.

I know this enemy too well. I know the pit into which it drags. By God's grace I have learned the early warning signs--the sleepless, worrisome nights, the urge to sleep your day away, the desire to do nothing because everything feels too hard--I know these feelings well, and as the age old saying goes, knowing is half the battle!

No. Every morning, every moment the enemy tries to creeps into my day, I know now I have a choice.

I can choose Joy. I can choose Jesus. I can choose to fill the Stillness with His presence instead of my enemy's, the world, or my flesh.

I can reach for my Bible instead of the snooze button or more covers to pull over my head. (Psalm 119:105)

I can breathe deep the gift of this Stillness,  exhaling gratefulness for no time constraints,  no schedule,  nothing that God hasn't ordained. (1 Thessalonians 5:18, Psalm 139:16)

I can count my blessings and enjoy them instead of counting the minutes on my clock or the number of tasks on my calendar. (Matthew 6:19)

I can believe and trust that God has a plan for my day in motion instead of believing that my day is defined by the number of accomplishments I have planned for myself. (Proverbs 16:9)

I have a choice to make.  A battle to win in those small moments. (Ephesians 6:12)  I need to capture the emotion and reconcile it to God's Word.  It's time to use the full armor of God I've been given and wield the Sword to His glory and His victory in my life. (Ephesians 6:10-18)

I choose Joy!  I choose Jesus!

And in that choice, I reach for my devotional and my Bible.  Ashamedly, I do this somewhat reluctantly.  It's not always easy to choose the better thing.

And in the words of my devotional I find a beckoning from my Lord to come away with Him, to put the world with "it's nonstop demands" on hold instead of Him, to stop buying into the world's lie that more is better--"more meetings, more programs, more activities," to choose the better thing that can never be taken away from me.  To choose Jesus, to choose Joy. (Jesus Calling by Sarah Young, July 17)

The Stillness beckons to be filled, and I can choose to fill it with Jesus, but how?

I then open my Bible and read the chapter that comes after the one I read yesterday:
Psalm 143--with my sidebar thoughts as I read this....

Hear my prayer, O Lord,
Give ear to my supplications!
Answer me in Your faithfulness, in Your righteousness!
2 And do not enter into judgment with Your servant, (The best and worst of us have bad days, down days, low moments, doubts, and moments of stumbling, this is me right now, Lord, stumbling....)
For in Your sight no man living is righteous. (See, even if I was busier, living more purposefully, it wouldn't make me more righteous in God's sight.  Why do we still strive?....)
3 For the enemy has persecuted my soul; (My fleshly mind is on a rampage....)
He has crushed my life to the ground; (I feel helpless, forgotten, and lost....)
He has made me dwell in dark places, like those who have long been dead. (My mind and emotions take me to the pits of despair....)
4 Therefore my spirit is overwhelmed within me;
My heart is appalled within me. (I am weak and I know it and I feel it and I hate myself for being weak.  I hate that this flesh gets the best of me more times than I like....What to do Lord???)

5 I remember the days of old; (Remember everything you've just come through.  Remember the Big God who parted the Red Sea.  Remember every small blessing along the way.  Remember....)
I meditate on all Your doings; (Keep His word before you.  Put these verses on a card, be aware of these truths, think about them every moment you feel the enemy creeping....)
I muse on the work of Your hands. (Let your mind mull over the meanings of Scripture, the truths in this passage and others.  Be amazed by the work of the Lord in everything around you.  Everything....)
6 I stretch out my hands to You;
My soul longs for You, as a parched land. (Trust fall into God's arms once again.  He is the deepest desire of your heart....)

7 Answer me quickly, O Lord, my spirit fails;
Do not hide Your face from me, (Lord!  I know You hear me.  Show your grace, your favor upon me in this hard moment....)
Or I will become like those who go down to the pit. (Or this will happen....)
8 Let me hear Your lovingkindness in the morning; (I'm here Lord, bright and early...)
For I trust in You; (I do.  I really do....)
Teach me the way in which I should walk; (You show me what my day should hold.  I will be open and available and will just keep doing the next thing until You change my course...)
For to You I lift up my soul. (I am Yours alone, O Lord.  All of me, all in....)
9 Deliver me, O Lord, from my enemies; (Crush these thoughts and emotions.  Bring them under the power of Your will, Your truth, Lord....)
I take refuge in You. (You are my safe place....)

10 Teach me to do Your will,
For You are my God; (Amen!...)
Let Your good Spirit lead me on level ground. (Level out my emotions.  Stop the roller coaster that leaves me anxious and edgy and unsure....)
11 For the sake of Your name, O Lord, revive me. (Give me new fervor for Your glory alone...)
In Your righteousness bring my soul out of trouble. 
12 And in Your lovingkindness, cut off my enemies
And destroy all those who afflict my soul, (Be the downfall of all those thoughts that plague me, so I can fully live to glorify you in all my thoughts and actions.)
For I am Your servant. (True and Amen.)

And the Stillness has been filled.  In a brief 20-30 minutes of time, God filled the Stillness with all that He planned for it to be filled with--simply Himself. (Acts 17:28)

And I no longer felt helpless, forgotten, lost or without purpose.  I felt full of His presence.  I felt Joy. And so that is exactly how God filled my Stillness with Joy instead of how I could have filled it with Emptiness.  How my day with no agenda became filled with a grateful fervor to do laundry, pay bills, cook, clean, and love on my kids.  How I ended up having time to spend 30 minutes on a phone call with a credit card telemarketer, relaying the story of our recent transition, and open and available to give God all the glory for my attitude and perspective.  How that lady expressed a longing for more of that in her life, and how I was able to tell her it's all available by having a relationship with Jesus.

A stranger got to experience my Jesus through me today because I let Him fill my Stillness instead of trying to fill it myself.

And isn't that really why we are here on earth?  Isn't that exactly what God calls us to do?  To be His ambassadors? (2 Corinthians 5:20) To be the ones that tell the stories of His love, His faithfulness, His goodness, His glory? (Psalm 145:10-13) How can I be open and available to do this when I'm too busy filling my own Stillness of soul with Busyness of day?

And folks it's really not that my day changed all that much.  I still would have had to do laundry, pay bills, cook, clean and love on my kids.  But I would have accomplished all those things just to check them off my list, to make myself feel full of purpose instead of doing them already knowing I am full of purpose. Already being full of purpose before my day ever really began.

Every day, every moment, before the onslaught of each of our enemy's attacks, we have a choice to make.  Will you fill your Stillness with the Emptiness of your own fleshly desires?  Or will you fill your Stillness with the fullness of Jesus Christ who is the deepest desire of every living soul? (Psalm 37:4)

The choice is yours. Choose wisely.  I choose Jesus.  I choose Joy! (Psalm 16:11)

What's Next?:When You Find Yourself Staring Into the Wilderness

So the Red Sea shut behind the Israelites with what I can only imagine was a dramatic, tumultuous splash, thundering with finality.  Can you imagine how big their eyes were when the water crashed back down into place?  Can you imagine the hush that must have fallen over the crowd and the sea as the waters settled, burying their enemies at the bottom of the deep, blue abyss?  Don't you think some of those people fell to their knees in awe and kissed the ground on the other side? unable to hold back the tears of emotion in release of fear and hope and joy all at the same time?

Then what?

Well if you read the story--like I did not long after we landed our family here in California (Exodus 14)--you will see the Israelites break forth in praise and singing to God the Father. (Exodus 15)  Gratefulness and thanksgiving abound. And so they should!  And so have I.

But then what?

Well, then they're in the wilderness.  The desert.  They're in a dry, hot, unknown place somewhere between what-they-knew and what-they-were-promised. I am here.  In the wilderness, in the desert, in the great in-between of what-I-knew and what-I-am-promised.  And let me tell you, it is a dry, thirsty, weary, heavy, hot place to be.

By dry, I mean I thirst for familiarity, for friends, for family, for companionship not just for myself, but for my children.  I literally crave something familiar, something that feels routine or normal.  I thirst, and my children thirst, and my husband thirsts, and the wilderness is simply dry.

By weary, I mean that I'm pretty sure I'm using parts of my brain that have been dormant for years, like remembering to read street signs and notice land markers.  When you've lived in the same county for 30 of your 34 years of life, these are skills that you no longer have to use.  I'm learning new grocery stores, new playgrounds, new beaches, and all the little ins and outs of toting two kids through that maze of a process all while making sure they feel safe and loved and secure.  My brain is weary.  I've never slept so hard in my entire life.

By hot, I mean well, it's hot here right now, actually unusually hot according to the radio.  And I am in the wilderness.  I and my family are in the wilderness, and it hasn't taken long for the natives to become restless.

In Exodus we find it took all of three days for the Israelites to begin to grumble against God. (Exodus 15:22)  3 Days! I'm pretty sure their children spear-headed this movement of complaint because if Israelite children were anything like my children, they just wanted everything to return to normal, to be the same, to have all the same things they had back in Egypt, for everyone to act the same way, for experiences to be the same, and well, now they're not. We're in the wilderness, and it's a little harder here.  Everyone is sticking a little closer together, wary of what's around the corner or over the bend. Unsure of the terrain and their surroundings, I'm sure the Israelite mothers kept a tight leash on their kiddos.  I can relate.

Unfortunately a tight leash also means having them underfoot, all the time, 24-hours a day, no breaks. No babysitters.  No grandparents to spend the night with.  No playmates to distract them for 2-4 hours and tire them out.  Nope.  You're keeping them close, and you're holding yourself responsible for them, and they are complaining about everything and anything.  Having to help more, hold more doors, eat at new places, ride more elevators, push more buttons, walk more places for longer periods of time. There is an endless list of things for them to complain about!!!

And you, the parent, the mature one, you are doing your best.  I'm doing my best.  I'm making sure I stay in the Word, filling up with as much of God's presence and peace and wisdom as possible, so that I can manage to diligently teach the same, dad-gum, character lessons to my children every. single. day. The hope is if I don't complain, maybe they won't complain.  If I have a good attitude, maybe they will have a good attitude.  If I bite my tongue and focus on the positive, maybe I can teach them to do the same.  Trying to take full advantage of every teachable moment with a six and four year old is also very weary and heavy and hot--hot-tempered that is.

So I completely sympathize with those miserable Israelites only holding out for three days with no water before they started complaining at God, accusing Him of not providing for them, grumbling against the Great God that just parted the Red Sea three days earlier. I get it.  To be honest, I give them mad props for making it through three whole days if their little ones were as out of sorts as mine have been.

So what does that mean for me?  I'm throwing myself at the mercy of that Great God and begging NOT to be like them.  In my moments of weakness and short tempers and harsh words, I am trying to remember to stop and breath and physically take in the presence of the God who brought me here, to this place in time, to this very difficult moment, and REMEMBER what He has already done and what He promises to see me through to--the Promised Land. (Deuteronomy 8:2, Exodus 6:8)

Remembrance, gratefulness, thanksgiving--these are the long, tall, cool drinks in the desert.  These are wells that never run dry.  Jesus Christ Himself is the Living Water. (John 4:14)  His Holy Spirit inside of me is the never-ending wellspring of life. (Isaiah 58:11)  I don't even have to ask for it.  I just need to breathe deep and draw Him in.  Refocus, remember, be grateful, be thankful, be a worshipper of God. Abide. (John 15:5) It's not something I do; it's a realization and acceptance of this is who I am.  His child.  He knows me; He sees me. (Psalm 139)

No, those Israelites grumbled and complained against God, either forgetting what He had already provided or taking for granted how powerful a God He was. He is.  And if you keep reading, you find they just continue to complain and grumble and whine (even though God keeps providing everything they ask Him for!), and God gets so furious He actually wants to destroy them, (Deuteronomy 9:13-14) (I too have wanted to destroy my children on days.)  But instead of destroying them, He shows great mercy once again by only exiling them to wander in the desert for 40 years. (Numbers 14:26-35) (My kids would probably describe their room as the "desert." They wander there a lot.)  I guess that's better than death, but holy cow, shoot me now. I really, REALLY don't want to wander aimlessly in the desert.

So what's next?  LOTS of gratefulness.  Lots of praise and thanksgiving for all the small victories and small moments of blessing that add up to pointing to the provision of a Big God who's involved in the small stuff.  Like when you show up to your new apartment late at night after an 8-hour day of traveling only to find the fridge and pantry are already stocked with all the staples you need for breakfast the next morning thanks to kind friends. (God's provision.) Like when that cost of living paycheck shows up, and you can breathe a little easier because stuff out here is 'xpensive! (God's blessing.) Like when you're sitting in your first church service on your first Sunday in what is sure to be many visits to many churches to find the right one, yet out of all the stories in the Bible a preacher could preach on you hear a message on the Israelites crossing the Red Sea and how they should have remembered God rather than grumbling against Him!  No seriously, that was the message we heard. And tears rolled down my cheeks because in that moment, in that church service, hearing that message, I knew that the Creator God of the Universe has His Big Eyes on little 'ole me. It was a sign for me that He knew exactly where I was and what I was going through, and He was with me. (God's grace, also translated God's favor.) Praise God!  He is with me!!!

And in those moments when I just can't take it any more?  When my entire being wants to wail at God and yell, "Now what?!? Is this all you've brought me here for?!?" Well, in those moments, I fall on my face at the feet of my Big Heavenly Father, crying out to Him that I'm weak and I'm worn out and I just can't take it anymore, and I ask Him to forgive me for leaning too much on myself and not enough on Him, and then I simply ask Him to fulfill the need, just prayerfully, worshipfully, humbly...ask.

And really, it doesn't matter in that moment if He chooses to give me what I ask for or not. All that matters is that my heart is right and clean before Him, and I know I have been heard because whether His answer is yes, no, just wait, or complete silence, the truth is He has heard my cry. (Psalm 116:1-2) He has heard, and He will answer in His perfect time, in His perfect way, and my heart can rest and trust in that truth knowing that He did not bring me out of Egypt to die of thirst in the desert.  There is always streams in the desert by His provision. (Isaiah 43:19)

So what's next?  Learning the ropes. Doing the next thing.  Buying groceries and wet suits and boogie boards.  Exploring beaches and mountains and the lay of the land. Numbering my days carefully and in the process, being fully aware that my interactions, actions, and reactions represent a Big God to the world around me.  I pray who I am brings Him glory.  I pray who my children are and who they become brings Him glory.  I pray our family represents Him well just by smiling at strangers and being kind to the clerk who checks us out at the register.

And I AM GRATEFUL.  It is a state of being, a state of the heart, a state of mind, a spiritual state of matter.

And when a friendly stranger shares the information that Orange County sees 2-3 DAYS of rain in an entire YEAR, and all of a sudden I am physically thirsty and dry just thinking about the afternoon rain showers back in Georgia, longing for it's cooling effects; it's in that moment of longing, that thought, that I must capture my thoughts and bring them into submission of the truth. (2 Corinthians 10:5)  And the truth is...

Psalm 63:

O God, You are my God; I shall seek You [b]earnestly;
My soul thirsts for You, my flesh [c]yearns for You,
In a dry and weary land where there is no water.
2 Thus I have seen You in the sanctuary,
To see Your power and Your glory.
3 Because Your lovingkindness is better than life,
My lips will praise You.
4 So I will bless You as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands in Your name.
5 My soul is satisfied as with [d]marrow and fatness,
And my mouth offers praises with joyful lips.

6 When I remember You on my bed,
I meditate on You in the night watches,
7 For You have been my help,
And in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.
8 My soul clings [e]to You;
Your right hand upholds me.

AMEN! AMEN! and AMEN!  What is the truth to which you cling when life is dry and weary?  Will you grumble at a God you must believe to be to powerless to save you to even think about grumbling in the first place? (Exodus 16:7b) Or will you humbly seek the help and favor of the All-Powerful God who is mighty to save and quick to come to the aid of His people? (Zephaniah 3:17)  Will you humbly ask? (Matthew 7:7)  

If we would only ask.  

     Humbly ask and seek His face.  

He would heal our minds

     With His favor and grace.

             (reference to 2 Chronicles 7:14)