Only Still Waters Ripple

My days and my season are quiet. I’ve moved my family and spent the past month creating a home of comfort, support, and safety for them. The pictures are hung, furniture placed, and food is in the pantry. If I were to do nothing else from this day forward, my home is lovely, inviting, and cozy.

Now what?

There is a quiet in this home I have not known before—a stillness begging to be absorbed. Like so many I know, my mind and physical body rage against stillness. Stillness in my mind is equated with uselessness, laziness, and lack of purpose, drive, and achievement.

Yet here I am. Feeling forced to be still for lack of no other choice. My Jesus is faithful to meet me here. I am never alone. This morning, in my reading, He gave me this promise and this challenge:

“The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me. Psalm 138:8……What a blessing to lose our own strength, wisdom, plans, and desires and to be where every ounce of our being becomes like a peaceful Sea of Galilee under the omnipotent feet of Jesus!” (Cowan, Streams in the Desert, pg. 345, 1997.)

The Lord WILL fulfill His purpose for me. In my mind’s eye, the word will is bold-faced and in all caps every time I read that verse. It’s as if the Lord is stamping His promise into my soul to keep the fires of hope alive. He does see me, exactly where I am. He is working His purposes even in this stillness. He has a plan for my life He will fulfill. My Jesus wants me to cling to Him and wait and not lose hope.

He is Lord of the insignificant too. What I often view as meaningless, He is already weaving into the plan of eternity. I hear Him whisper in the quiet, “Trust Me.” If it wasn’t so quiet in my life right now, I wonder if I would hear Him so clearly?

Then the challenge! To consider it a blessing to be given a clean slate, to be stripped of my strength, wisdom, plans, and desires?!?! I’m not sure I’m there yet, but I can tell you the process is painful. To wake up every day with only the day before you, trusting God to fill it as He sees fit, unable to use the gifts He’s given except in the small realm of the four walls where you generally just exist. Every fiber of my being rages and strives, and I inwardly scream at the Lord, “Give me more! There must be more I can do for You! There must be more You want me to accomplish!” Only to be answered by the quiet stillness of this home, this season, this space in time, and my Jesus’ abiding presence.

You see, my soul is not a peaceful Sea of Galilee…yet. Lucky for me, my Jesus walks on the water in the middle of the storms of life as well, and He brings the peace with Him. I do want my life to be a peaceful sea for His feet to tread. I want His every step on my life to ripple as far as the eye can see, so that when people encounter my life, they can’t help but be touched by the ripple effect of His feet walking across my deep waters.

Only still waters ripple.

“Father, forgive me for raging against the stillness You have given. Make my life as still as it needs to be for You to ripple across the surface, for all who encounter me, to encounter You.”

God Started A School

It was Sunday, July 30^th, 2017 when we first got the news. Our principal had resigned, the teachers had banded together to say they wouldn’t work for another administrator, and just like that our gem of a classical school was no more.

The next forty-eight hours were a blur of activity in our home.  My husband Joey, along with others, had been asked to join an interim board in an attempt to navigate reconciliation between the original school board members and our principal, but in the process so much mismanagement and collusion was uncovered between the existing school board and the church where our school was located that it became very clear, the differences were irreconcilable.

Our school, the only classical school in southern Orange County, California, the school that had become our anchor of stability since our move from Atlanta three years prior, the families that our children had grown to love and the teachers that had whole-heartedly invested in us with genuine love and concern, it was all gone.  It no longer existed.  Just like that, with no warning, no time to prepare, the beauty of what the Lord had provided as an answer to prayer three years ago was gone.

Public school would be starting back in just two weeks in some school districts, and as the late-night phone calls for the interim board continued and more mismanagement was uncovered, the initial panic began to set in. Where were our children going to go to school?

Classical education was a path I had researched and desired for my children before we even moved out to California.  It is a very intentional, detail-oriented, purposeful way of educating children that takes full advantage of the developmental stages of the brain. The methods classical education uses wastes nothing, not one minute of time or one opportunity to celebrate and encourage learning. My children were thriving in this environment.  They loved school, their teachers, and the small classes of students.

My options now were public school, another non-classical private school (of which there were several to choose from), or some form of classical home-schooling. I didn’t like any of these options. I didn’t feel good about, passionate about, or drawn to any of these choices. I wanted what my children had. I wanted it for myself, and I wanted it for them. But what did God want? What was His plan in these circumstances? And so began, the inner battle between faith and doubt, trust in my strength or God’s strength.

Within the first week of August, parents from our school were up in arms.  We all loved our school!  We couldn’t understand how or why this had happened so suddenly and abruptly. Meetings were held. Feelings were hurt. Perceptions shifted rapidly from one extreme to another. People were hurt, angry, worried. We all began to grapple with what were the best options, choices, courses forward for our children.  The clock was ticking. Time was running out—or so we thought.  Looking back, I now realize there was no rush to start school. I could have enrolled my children anywhere in the middle of October, and they would have managed fine, but at the time, in the moment, it felt imperative to their well-being to have a plan, to make a choice, and to move forward.  It was time to go back to school, after all.

But our choices just weren’t good. The interim board of selected and willing parents that had formed to work alongside our principal began working even more fervently. My husband literally worked two full-time jobs for the month of August—the one he got paid for and for the board of what was then a non-existent school. The parents on this new board were all passionate about classical education.  We wanted this option for our children, but how?

We had a principal. We had a pool of willing teachers to hire (who also were left stranded and in limbo at this point by what had happened.) We had interested families; families who wanted to make this work. We thought this was all we had.  We hoped this would be enough.  So, through daily prayer and a steady determination to keep moving forward, the new board members decided we wanted to start a new school, a separate entity with a new name and without all the baggage of the previous location and entanglements caused by the poor judgement of the people at the church and on the previous school board. Thus, The Geneva School was born out of necessity, some desperation, and a passionate desire to see our children educated classically.

By the end of the first week of August, we had a name, we had a logo even, now we just needed a location, and this is where the journey got tough and rocky and unsure. A location in southern Orange County capable of housing the sixty students that remained interested was not readily available or inexpensive to find. Thus, began the long weeks of hopes getting up and being let down as location after location after location began to be a closed door. The new board was working tirelessly, relentlessly even, but no door was opening, not yet.

Public school started, and we understandably lost a few more families. The third week in August many of the private schools in the area were gearing up to begin school for the year. Without a definite location nailed down, we understandably lost a few more families.

During those first three weeks of August, Joey and I had done our due diligence.  We had bathed everything in prayer. We had toured and even applied to another local private school. When the office staff was floored by how well our children tested on their entrance exams, I knew we would be doing our children a disservice to give up so easily.  They were almost an entire year ahead of their grade level compared to other private schools, and their potential was only just beginning to be tapped.

But it wasn’t just about the academics. It was about what Joey and I felt the Lord was calling us to do. This was a path the Lord placed us smack in the middle of for a reason. He wanted us to walk this path by faith. He wanted us to give it our all and trust Him. He was calling us to stay the course and start a new school. And so like Indiana Jones in The Last Crusade, we began the process of taking steps across a bottomless chasm with nothing in front of us, just the ability to take the next step. God showed up at every step as the solid footing beneath our feet, but for six weeks, we had nothing to really trust but the calling of the Lord Himself. Each step was one of faith into the unknown.

By the fourth week in August, we finally had one final location. It was literally our last option. If this didn’t work, there were no other locations to pursue. We waited in constant vigil for the church board to vote to approve our occupancy, and as we waited, we understandably lost a few more families. We had gone from sixty committed students the first of August to now forty students. Our teachers would have to take a pay-cut at this number, and we would have to do some serious fundraising to make ends meet. To say things looked and felt bleak, would be an understatement. The only thing that kept our feet on this path was knowing that we knew that we knew this is what God wanted for our family. To the bitter end, flight or failure, we were supposed to try and start this school.

What was even more encouraging and inspiring for me was watching my husband come along side and fight for this together. Education had always been “my” thing as the mom and former educator. Joey had always just bent in whatever direction I felt led.  This was different though. Together through prayer, I saw the Lord change his heart, and I saw my husband go to war for his family. He saw something valuable and important to his children being wrongly taken, and he fought for them. He fought for us, and watching him step up and step into this responsibility without hesitation or even doubt was inspiring, encouraging, and endearing. My children saw their dad fight for them. They saw him never give up, back down, or lose faith. I don’t know what they will remember from this experience later in life, but I hope it sticks to them in all the good ways for all the right reasons. Nothing God ever calls us to do is ever wasted, so I believe more seeds were planted through this process in our family’s story than I can even begin to understand.

As we waited in hopeful expectation for our location to be approved, I was reminded of the story of Gideon. Of how God took an army of 10,000 and dwindled it down to the 300 He wanted to use. Why? So, God would get all the glory, and no man would be able to take credit for the victory God provided.

Thursday, August 31^st, 2017 The Geneva School was approved to occupy a new location, exactly one month from when the previous school had fallen apart. In the next eleven days, the remaining 25 families painted an entire wing of the church, outfitted classrooms with bookshelves, desks, white boards, and even short-throw projectors. We ordered new school uniforms and showed up for the first day of classes Tuesday, September 12^th, 2017. Forty students, grades kindergarten through eighth would be continuing the classical education we had all grown to love and believe passionately. Thirteen of our teachers remained to answer the calling to teach our children, to invest in an eternal opportunity to impact the lives of the next generation.

In six weeks, God started a new school.

Looking back, I realize He orchestrated the perfect group of people to accomplish this task. The new board members had experience in business, previous board experience, non-profit organizations, finances, entrepreneurial start-ups, educational expertise and marketing. Among our group of parents, we had connections to graphic designers, legal contacts, real estate, photographers and generous wallets. We asked for prayer through this process, and friends and family joined in full support. We asked for donations, and people showed up with all manor of supplies from copiers and paper to paint supplies and furniture and so much more.

Our school was built in six weeks because God put together a uniquely qualified team of people to accomplish the task. We each took steps of faith, using the gifts and resources and strengths God had already equipped us with, and together, God built a school. A school I pray continues to be viable and influential in the lives of children for decades to come.

Our school continues to function by faith. Praise the Lord, we confidently make pay roll every month, but the opportunity for growth and the possibilities for what we can continue to accomplish are endless with the right funding. So, we pray for funding, and we continue to give of our time, talents, and tithe as sacrificially as the Lord leads. With only 25 families, this is not easy. No one gets to just drop their kid off at school and go about their day without another thought. Every parent is invested and involved and needed.  We all have a part to play and a role of responsibility to make this school work.  It’s not easy, but it’s rewarding and fulfilling to wake up every day and know without a doubt that this is the right path, the right choice, the right thing to do.

The lessons I’ve learned and continue to learn through this journey are so many! I’ve never understood better the relationship between faith and works. Faith in God is the glue that holds you to the path set before you; works is the engine that moves you forward, one step at a time, one legal form filed, one purchase made, one prayer prayed and believed.

I’ve never experienced such a physical working of the body of Christ like this before. Each person uniquely equipped to work as God created and gifted them to function, all coming together to accomplish the purpose He set before us. Everyone was needed and appreciated, and where someone was weak another was strong. I pray I never doubt again what the Lord can accomplish through His people. I pray I continue to step into roles He has uniquely equipped me to accomplish the rest of my life because though my one part to play doesn’t seem like much, collectively it is accomplishing more than I can think or imagine in the kingdom of God.

Lastly, I’ve learned the value of staying the course, even when you think it might end in failure. When you’ve been called to a task, you see it through to the end. You keep the faith.  You take the next step. You stay resolved and steadfast.  You endure. You don’t jump ship out of fear, urgency or doubt.  The only reason Joey and I would have pursued a different path is if we had the peace of God to turn a different way, but we never did. God’s peace was the steadying force in the pit of my stomach even during tears of uncertainty and waves of doubts. I learned the importance of not moving in a different direction based on my feelings in the moment or based on the direction others were taking. My journey with the Lord is my journey, and it will and should look and feel very different from what others are experiencing.  That’s the beauty of a relationship with Jesus; it’s a relationship as unique as my marriage with my husband is compared to anyone else’s marriage, and we are most assuredly better and stronger together, no matter how difficult things may become.

God started a school in six weeks, and it’s been a privilege and an honor to have a small part to play. I pray others will hear this story and be encouraged to stay the course and inspired to pursue the path God has placed you on for today, for this season of life. He is constantly and for all eternity working in ways we cannot fathom or plan to orchestrate. We must trust and believe His plan and stay the course to have a story to tell, a victory to share, and glory to give. Thank you, Jesus, for gifting a crown, a gem of a school, we can gladly give back to You.

*****************************************************

IF AFTER READING THIS STORY YOU FEEL LED TO GIVE TO THE GENEVA SCHOOL IN ANY WAY, WE WOULD BE DEEPLY GRATEFUL FOR YOUR GENEROSITY. 

PLEASE SEE OUR WEBSITE AT 

WWW.GENEVASCHOOLOC.ORG

AND CONTACT US FOR MORE INFORMATION ON HOW YOU CAN GIVE.

YOUR GIFTS ARE AN ETERNAL INVESTMENT IN THE HEARTS AND LIVES OF CHILDREN FOR THIS GENERATION AND THE ONES TO COME.

THANK YOU.

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."

Sand or Stone? Living with Grief

Two years. Two years and I now recognize a pattern in my life. The month of May passes and the weight lifts, summer is on the horizon, and it's time to take some ground, conquer some fears, remember her life and live mine with joy!

Then December comes and random thoughts begin to flood the recesses of my mind. Small moments throughout the days catch me by surprise with vivid memories of her laugh, her smile, her hug. In the rush of the holidays, I don't allow myself to grieve. This is the time of year to rejoice! So I push through and smile and sing Christmas carols and save her memory for another day.

Then January rolls around and it's her birthday month and from that point on, from the day of her birth here on earth until her heavenly birthday in May the pictures begin to show up on Instagram and Facebook, and I. Can't. Stop. The memories.

And I wrestle with the Lord because she should be here. It's not right. It's not good. It's not loving that she's not here. And I'm faced again with the harsh reality--yet also my deepest comfort--that God's ways are not my ways. (Deuteronomy 29:29) And her memory reminds me to stay humble because just when you think you've got God figured out is exactly when you don't.

I have experienced loss before her. I have lost grandparents and have even weathered a miscarriage. Somehow the loss of someone older was expected, not easier to bare mind you, but expected. That fits the flow of all life. We live, grow old, and die. The older pass before the younger, sometimes earlier than we like, but still a reasonable assumption.

The miscarriage was the loss of a life I'd never know, a child I'd never hold. That loss was not easier, but less connected. The hardest part was not understanding in full who you were grieving because everyone deserves to be known.

But at nineteen? At nineteen the whole world should be ahead of you. You are connected to everyone around you and all the hopes and dreams of the possibilities before you. You have a past that is full and meaningful and a future that is bright. Selfishly I think, I had poured some of the best of me into her. I was suppose to live long enough to see her pour it back into the world. She was suppose to grieve my death one day.

Instead, two years ago, her death ripped a cataclysmic black hole into the universe of my beliefs, my life. And God has allowed her death to pour more meaning back into my life than I thought possible, than I knew was possible.

People may believe this move to California has changed me, that the process of the move has been the catalyst for change in my life. I'm here to tell you it was her death that left me marked.

It was her death at age 19 that God used to show me I have nothing figured out, nothing is in my control, and at the end of the day, no matter what, all I have left is Him.

When the storm washes away all the sand at the foundation of how you live your life, what that foundation is ultimately built upon at the bottom is all that stands. It's from that point you get to reset.

I fail everyday, but with the bones of my structure exposed two years ago, I got the chance to make some new choices. Was I going to continue filling in around my foundation with the sands of busyness, of false idols in family and friends, of ambition, of pride, of control? Or would I make a different choice this time?

No. Trust. Trust in the God of my salvation are the stones I will choose this time. Trust and faith, altar stones that come in shapes and sizes I don't understand or often know how to fit together, each one different from the rest. I have to wait to place them, one at a time, at His direction, at my Master Builder's pace. And He has been faithful to build in me a stronger foundation than I've ever had before.

Yet there are still times when I rush, when I get impatient, when I want the busyness, the pride, the control, the false idols back in my life that I try to pour those sands onto these new rocks. And the sand seeps into the crevices and holes of my foundation, and it sticks, it stays, and it rubs me raw, and it sits until the next rain comes, the next wave, the next storm, the next tsunami.

Then all that sand washes away.  Again.  Once more.  Painfully. (Matthew 7:24-27)

But this time at my foundation I realize there are more stones left behind than from the storm before. I'm not starting over from scratch every time God strips the rubbing sands out of my life, the things that won't hold up in the storm. There's a larger foundation to start over with than the storm before. And sometimes it scares me because I can't help but borrow trouble and think, "What exactly are you preparing me for, Lord?"

There's never an answer to this question. He just holds out more stones of faith and trust, and I stand there, staring at Him. Will I take them? Will I continue to build the foundation of my life with Him? Do it His way?

How can I not? Did He not send His only Son to die for my sin? Did not He too rip open a black hole in His own universe by turning His back on that Son in His own holiness? God, of all people, of anyone knows the greatest of griefs, the greatest of sufferings. His innocent Son died for my salvation, for my eternity at His own command. His innocent, perfect, only child. (John 3:16)

If in my own grief, I hope I live a life that honors the memory of my daughter-sister-friend, how can I not choose to live a life that honors my Savior-Lord-Father-Friend as well? Even more so!!! How can I not simply build my life as an altar with the stones of His choosing?
Isn't that the very least I can do?

And praise Jesus! He's actually alive and well and present and willing and able to equip me to honor Him with my life!! (2 Peter 1:3-8, 2 Timothy 3:16-17)

How can I not?

And so the wrestling with God ends, and her death takes on a new life in my life Every. Single. Time. By bringing me full circle back to the truth of my Jesus' death for me.

That's really all that matters, and the truth is, that's really all that ever will. My lesson in life these days: The grass will never be greener anywhere else but in Jesus' yard.
It's time for me to stop looking.

Maybe, by God's grace, I can teach my kids to stop looking as well. Maybe.

What is it that has marked you recently? That has ripped a black hole in your universe? That makes you wrestle with God? Through the pain, can you see the good yet? Are you determined that your life will grow joy out of that pain? Or are you still lost in the black hole, in the pain?

Keep wrestling. (Genesis 32:22-32) Do the hard thing and work it out. Do the mental work. Do the heart work. Do the soul work it takes to wrestle with God. You might end up physically limping in the end, but my guess is you will also end up eternally blessed--you AND those that follow you.

Put your back into it, and do the work it takes to place those stones of trust and faith at the foundation of your life--the life God Himself has designed and destined. Only He has the blueprints. Only He knows where to place those stones. Put down your bags of sand, which may pour out easier, but ultimately weigh more than those stones, and all that sand WILL wash away. It's just a matter of time.

Today I choose the Rock. Today I place another stone of trust. "He only is my Rock and my Salvation, My stronghold; I shall not be greatly shaken." Psalm 62:2 (The soundtrack to this blog in my head right now: Meredith Andrew's song Your Kingdom Reigns.)

Not by might nor by power, but by His Spirit alone! (Zechariah 4:6) Amen!

.........
"The breath of the Almighty gives me life. Job 33:4"
In loving memory of Savannah Joy Veale.
Today you dance two years in heaven. Oh the stories you can tell!

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."

How Big is your God?

Two years ago I wrote a post comparing myself to Jean Grey and a scene from an X-men movie. If you read that post, you know how disastrous that turned out.

Today, this week, the men have come to pack my home of almost 9 years, and we sign a paper that makes it someone else's home. We successfully nested our family of four in with my parents for the next three months, and my Savannah has been rocked by the change, "Moving is really hard, Mama," tears streaming down her little face. This has been a hard year for her little self, and my heart aches for her.

As for me? Well, this time around I'm not Jean Grey; I'm an Israelite leaving two years of Egypt with the Promised Land ahead, and right now in this moment of life, I'm smack dab in the middle of the Red Sea of Emotions.

The only thing holding back thousands of gallons of tears and anxieties stretching miles high on either side of me is a Great and Mighty God who says, "I've got this. You just keep walking in trust, one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. I've got this."

And that's kinda the best picture I can paint of this transition period between what I've known as home and what God has before me--giant walls of impending doom of emotions that my God by His power alone is holding back, sparing me from destruction.

And I also trust that if the Egyptians of my past, the lies that kept me in bondage, I trust that if they try to follow me through this pass, they will meet their demise by my God's power alone as well.

By His power alone.

Can you even imagine being one of those Israelites? (Exodus 14) The enemy army is closing in behind you, threatening to drag you back into a life of slavery, but all that lies before you is an endless mass of sea and waves and uncharted waters. You cry out to your One True God, He gives the command, and the sea parts before your very eyes. It splits in two and parts before your very eyes. You did nothing, but cry out to God to save you, and this is His answer.

Can you imagine watching the walls of water rise higher and higher above your head as a dry path clears before you? Can you imagine walking in the valley before you, on the bottom of the sea you once only imagined how deep it could be, with sheer walls of water rising miles above you on either side, rippling against the invisible wall of God's Word--the only boundary holding them in place? Can you even imagine the fear, the awe, the wonder, the marvel....the trust it took to take those steps? To take your belongings,  your family, your children down that path?

Yet all God's children crossed safely to the other side. Not one was lost in the abyss.

That's where I am. In the middle of a trust walk of epic proportions, in the middle of my own Red Sea of Emotions. And praise the Lord, He is faithful to keep His promises!

I've shed a few tears here and there reminiscing over the memories shared in this house, over the laughter and fighting and squeals of children that echoed in the halls, over the changes that have taken place in myself and in Joey over the past 9 years. The couple who built this home are not the same two that sold it, and for that I give God all the glory.

No, I have been tempted to wallow, but then I would have learned nothing. No, my God is bigger and greater and more powerful than any emotion I can think about feeling, and by His power alone, in His presence alone, the emotion I feel mostly is joy, a deep abiding joy and peace that brings smiles instead of tears that urges me to keep trusting, keep believing that Jesus Christ is all I need yesterday, today, and forever.

And so I find myself in a place where I am extremely grateful to my God for going before me and flattening out the rough places, creating a smooth, straight path to follow in His steps. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

I know that not every transition in life will be this smooth. I think I would be naive to believe that, but for me, in this stage of life, God needed to teach me that completely trusting in Him is it's own great reward. He also needed to show this doubting Thomas that trusting Him and experiencing joy in my life go hand-in-hand. You really can't have one without the other. The more control I take, the less I trust, the less joy I experience in the journey.

And one thing's for sure, when I'm in control,  I most definitely cannot hold back those deadly, rippling water walls of emotions. Only God can do that. With just a word, He can do that.

Maybe you find yourself in your own valley of the Red Sea. Maybe your emotions or relationships or circumstances threaten to drown you at any moment. I encourage you to praise the One who holds it all back, who beckons you to trust walk the path He has cleared before you, who has the power to hold it all at bay until you've crossed to the other side. Trust Him. Stop looking at the waves, Peter! (Matthew 14)  Have faith that your God is bigger and better and greater, and it requires of Him no effort to hold back those walls of whatever. No effort at all.

Which means He still has plenty of power and resources remaining to meet the needs of yourself and your family even in the midst of protecting you, even while you walk this path. AND He's walking with you because He promises never to leave or forsake you!

Wow. Mind blown. He's just Big. So big.

I know that either the Wilderness or the Promised Land waits on the other side of this transition...maybe both, but in any case, my life has forever been changed by giving up my rights to a God who has a much greater plan. My prayer for those faced with a similar choice? Choose to trust like an Israelite at the bottom of the Red Sea;  trust God, not yourself, not your talents, gifts, or incredible ability to handle things on your own.

Because any super power you may think you possess was given by a God who actually is Super-Natural and Omnipotent and Omniscient and Omnipresent and... REALLY BIG.

So Big. So big that He deserves all the praise and all the trust and all the faith we have to give, and where we lack, He fills in the gaps. How graciously big of Him:)

How Big is God in your life today? in this moment? Big enough to......... (you fill in the blank;) )

For me, He's big enough to keep my emotions in check, to give me joy and hope and peace in place of sadness or worry. And for me, that's HUGE.

(Begin music....)My God is so big and so strong and so mighty there's nothing my God cannot do!

Amen!