You Have What It Takes: Lessons with Littles

It was a hot June day where I watched the adults versus students soccer game commence on the steaming astroturf.  My hubby had come out for the festivities, always willing to play a game of soccer and to join in on some school fun as well.  It was the school's end of year celebration, and the soccer field was alive with sweaty kids and adults scrambling back and forth from one end of the field to the other.

Next to me, sat my son. He slouched slightly, huddled up next to me, silently watching the game in motion. My husband had called to him, wanting him to come play with/against him. But my son just shook his head, pressed into my side a little harder and just stared at the game.  I could sense he was unhappy.

"Son, why don't you go play? Every one's out there running around. It looks like fun even if you don't get a chance to kick the ball. Just go run around with your friends."

He shook his head, fidgeting, not making eye contact.

"What's wrong?  Why won't you go play?  You love to run around, and look, your dad is out there and your friends.  What's the problem?"

He turned his eyes to mine, meeting my gaze, and I could see the insecurity and (was that shame?) in his body language. "Mom," he said, raising his hands palms upward to either side of his body, shrugging his shoulders upward, "I just don't have what it takes." And he slumped back, eyes watching the game, defeated. And he'd never even set foot on the field.

My immediate reaction was righteous, holy anger.  In that brief moment, I felt like maybe the way God felt calling for Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, seeking them out to join Him. They hid, telling God they were naked and afraid to show themselves, and God's reply was, "Who told you you were naked?"(Genesis 3:11)  That's what I felt.  That moment I wanted to grab my son with both hands and shake him, saying, "Who told you that?! Who told you you didn't have what it takes?!?!?"

Certainly not me. Certainly not my husband.  We have told our kids to work hard and reach for the best of who God made them to be since they were born. We have prayed this over them.  This is not something he learned at home or through his environment or any other adult in his life of whom I am aware.

This was the voice of the devil.  This was the voice of the DNA of his flesh. This was the voice of the world, satan's dominion. This was the voice of a lie. (Ephesians 6:12, Galatians, 5:17, 1 John 5:19, John 8:44)

My son is five years old and already being attacked by the voices I myself have only begun to identify in my thirties. The holy, indignant mama bear in me wanted to wring satan's neck and cause him slow, torturous, unbearable pain for even thinking about messing with my five-year-old boy's mind. But the reality and weight and truth of the moment set in.

My heart softened and hurt for my son. Satan wasn't here himself, whispering lies in the mind of my child. He can't be everywhere at once like God, and I'm pretty sure he's pulling the personal strings of some way more dangerous and influential people somewhere in the world right now. His demons have no reason to be concerned with my son at this point in his life.  It was just the flesh my boy was born with, spiritual, genetically inherited, sinful DNA. My son didn't have to be taught how to believe lies, he just naturally, innately believed them. (Galatians 5:17)

He needed to be set free. The truth will always set you free, even if it's hard. (John 8:32)

I looked him in the eye. Firmly but lovingly said, "That is a lie from the devil. No one has ever told you that. You need to believe the truth. You need to believe what I say about who you are. You have exactly what it takes to get out there and play and enjoy and be successful. So get up. Get out there.  I don't care if you never touch the ball.  I don't care if all you do is run back and forth the rest of the game, not really knowing what you're doing.  Just get out there. You don't have a choice. Now get up and go!"

Reluctantly, he obeyed.

And in reflection, I hear the voice of my heavenly Father, my holy Parent, giving me the same speech, imparting the same truth. He's trying so diligently to always be setting me free. (Galatians 5:1 John 8:36))

"You are not (____insert lie______). That is a lie from the devil. My Word has never told you that is who you are. You need to believe the truth. You need to believe what I AM says about who you are. You have exactly what it takes to get out there and live victoriously, play joyfully, enjoy deeply, and succeed abundantly. I made you! I should know! So get up. Get out there. I don't care if you never reach that impossible goal, attain that important platform, grab hold of that dream. I don't care if all you do is run back and forth in pursuit of Me the rest of your time here on earth, not really ever knowing what you are doing. Just get out there. You have made your choice to follow Me, and I'm not allowing you the choice to live enslaved to fear. Now get up and go!"

Powerful words from the most influential Person in my life. Powerful words to a five-year-old when I am one of the most influential people in his life right now.

And you know what?  In the mass of adults and students running pell-mell around that field, people with way more experience at soccer than my son, he actually got to kick the ball! Twice! In the right direction!  As a parent, I've never been more proud.

And I have to think my Heavenly Father just wants the same from me. My effort to give it a try, my willingness to participate and see what happens. A good attitude helps, but sometimes it's the result of taking that first step anyways. Knowing your strengths and weaknesses can be a starting point, but sometimes you don't know what you're capable of until you try, and since no one really knows the limit to God's capabilities, you should assume no one knows the limit of His capabilities in and through you. (Job 11:7) There's no personality or spiritual gifts test that will perfectly package what my Uncontainable God can accomplish in the life of an open heart, soul, and mind of a child who is willing to fully trust and simply obey the words that flow from her Father's heart.

Just like my son, the whispered lies we believe imprison us to sit forever on the sidelines. The plain truth of our Heavenly Father, written clearly and completely, cover to cover in the Bible invites us to play and thrive! (2 Timothy 3:16-17)

Just like my son, will you trust Jesus with your deepest hurts, the lies you're afraid to speak out loud? Because I promise, He will come to your rescue. (Isaiah 35:4) He's the only One in righteous anger capable of literally strangling the devil inside you. His words are full of grace and hope and an open invitation to be part of something bigger than yourself. (Ephesians 3:20)

Just like myself, as a parent or an influencer of a child in any respect, will you consider the responsibility, the weight your words carry in the life of a child? You may literally be the picture of God they hold in their mind's eye until they are old enough to learn how to forgive you for how imperfect you actually are. May your words reflect the heart of God into their little lives, and when they don't--because mine sure always don't--may your open confession to them turn their hearts toward the Lord in search of the one Person who will never let them down.

Just like myself, may you hear the heart of God echoed in the words you speak to others and may you experience the same boomerang effect of them coming back around to settle in the heart of your own life.  (And let's be honest, that little speech I gave to my son above, that came straight from the Holy Spirit. I can take NO credit.)

Just like my son, may you hear the words of the Father and respond immediately and accordingly. Trust and obey. Get up, get out there, never stop chasing after the will of the Father. Pity parties on the side lines are the result of getting caught believing subtle lies. Being side-lined by the Father is a totally different feeling and blog for another day, but the big difference is those side-lined by the Father are sitting on the bench, anxiously waiting to get back in the game. My son was side-lined by fear and lies. BIG difference. Know thyself, but know thy God better.

Read Isaiah 42:1-9...
Life is an amazing journey that God created. Be on the journey with Him. Enjoy the journey with Him. Talk about all aspects of the journey with Him. Confession is how we give all the bad to God, so He can in turn bless us with encouragement and fellowship and all the good.

"Jesus is the answer for the world today/Above Him there's no other/Jesus is the way."

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:)

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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."