The Hardest Days

The hardest days of your life. What are they? Is one of them the day someone dear dies? Is one of them the day you say goodbye to people you love? Is one of them the day you really work to truly forgive? Is one of them the day you start the faith journey into the unknown?  Is one of them the day you have to humble yourself and apologize?  Is one of them watching your child hurt and being helpless to ease the pain? What are the hardest days of your life?

How did you respond? 

Did you weep uncontrollably?  Did you get angry and bitter and hard? Did you mourn and sink into the pit? Did you wallow in self pity? Did you breathe silent prayers, begging for strength? Did you purposefully decide to focus forward, to focus on truth? Did you trust fall into the Alpha Omega God Who's bigger than you?

Did He catch you? He caught me.

In that moment when my son broke into unexpected tears, not wanting to let his grandparents go, I took a deep breath and silently begged God for strength, for His perspective, for His presence.

In that moment when my dad cried for the fifth time in my entire life while we hugged goodbye, my resolve crumbled and all that was left was God's promise that He is with me always (Psalm 16:8, Matthew 28:20).

In the moment when a kind lady asks me, "Where are you from?", and I find myself with no answer because I'm getting ready to board a plane from the place-I-use-to-be-from to the place-I-soon-will-be-from, I remember that my home is seated with my Father in the heavenlies (Ephesians 2:6), that I am but an alien in a foreign land here on this earth, so that where my Father is, there is my true home (Hebrews 13:14).

And the Red Sea of Emotion begins to crash behind me. The sea is closing. My God has seen me through to the other side, on dry ground, on His solid ground. And I can feel my emotions crumbling, swelling, swirling.  I can feel them wanting to close in around me, suck me into the cold abyss behind me that I just crossed safely. In those moments I have a choice to make: Believe what I'm feeling is truth or believe what my God has taught me is truth.

So today, I've chosen to take deep breaths, LOTS of deep breaths, and purposefully capture each thought, each emotion, and hold it up to the revealing light of what I know of God's truth (2 Corinthians 10:5).

My "home" is with Him (Hebrews 13:14).

My "family" is founded and built in Who Christ is to me and the body of believers He sets in place around me, the relationships He chooses for me, whether they are my actual blood family or not (Ephesians 2:19).

I am NOT alone.  Ever. (Psalm 139:7-10)

My emotions are natural and normal and ok.  It's not wrong for me to feel sad, to feel loss, to feel apprehensive.  That's not disbelief or doubt; that's being human.  God understands that.

What would be wrong is for me to dwell on those emotions and feed them with thoughts that use my mind, energy, and time in ways that do not glorify God and His purpose for my life.

So today, although I have cried and will cry, I am still buoyant and hopeful and filled with a deep abiding joy living out--in the very moments of this hardest of days--the reality that MY. GOD. IS. ENOUGH. 

He is enough.  He is all I need.

So many have commented that I seem to have handled this whole transition very well.  That I appear to have the right attitude and seem to be weathering this whole process smoothly.  Their comments all allude to the fact that I could be faking; I could really be a basket case behind closed doors.  Trust me, I know. I'd be the first to admit that I've been waiting for the emotional bottom to drop ever since we put a For Sale sign in the front yard of my first home.  And I won't pretend I haven't had my moments.  But they've been moments and not seasons this time around.

The bottom hasn't dropped out yet, and I'm beginning to be hopeful that it won't.

And it's not because of me my friends!!!  No, no, no.  This time it's all because of the living Christ inside who catches me every time I trust fall, who doesn't budge every time I lean hard into Him for emotional support, for physical support, for all-of-me support. I have handled nothing well.  I have actually handled nothing at all.  

He has orchestrated every detail from the revelation of the calling to go to getting all eight of our checked bags to the airport in Orange County, California (at no additional cost, BTW--that's how big and abundant and faithful my God is!)

Now what?  Well, that's another blog for another day, but for today, I will praise the God who parted the Red Sea, lead me across on dry land, and closed the sea of transition behind me to cover the enemies of my mind that have plagued me for too many years.  Today the enemy's lies will drown in the flood. Today, I will rejoice in my Mighty Warrior's victory in my life!  Today I will be full of joy and be glad for His banner over me is love! Abundant love.

Today has been one of my hardest days, but because of my relationship with Jesus Christ, I will always remember it as one of the most joy-filled days in the end because I have so tangibly lived the faithfulness of my God from sunrise on the east coast to sunset on the west.

"You have turned for me (today) my mourning into dancing!

You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness!

12 

That my [d]soul may sing praise to You and not be silent!

O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever!" (emphasis mine)

Psalm 30:11-12

On your hardest day, will you too choose joy?  Choose to lean hard into the only line of support that won't give way, give up, or give in?  Choose truth?  The Truth?

I dare you to trust fall into Jesus.  Let me know if He doesn't catch you.

Dear God

Dear God,

I don't want to be an Israelite.  They mess up so much.  They really come off looking like a big bunch of spoiled children when I study them in the Bible.  Yet, here I am, trudging through this transition period of life, this stage where I've never been before, and I'm really not sure what lies ahead, and I find myself identifying with those Israelites.

You've parted the Red Sea.  You've given us a path we never could have imagined to walk.  Literally, never would have imagined.  You've asked us to leave everything we've known, everything I've known, for my entire life--family, friends, southern culture, ways of living and thinking that have become so second nature, they're like breathing.  You've asked us to leave it all behind, and You've opened a path that is scary, that is frightening, that requires more faith than I think I have on most days.

Not only does this path through the Red Sea just feel strange and uncomfortable, but You keep asking me to give up more and more of me and myself and what feels safe along the way.  With each step in this dry, water-walled valley, I feel the lump rise in my throat.  I think about everything I'm leaving behind, and suddenly it feels like it's too much.  You're asking too much of me!

I suddenly find myself understanding why the Israelites wanted to go back to Egypt (Exodus 14:11-12).  The path ahead of them was frightening and unknown and for me, it FEELS like I'm having to lose so much to gain...what exactly?  It feels like I'm losing safety and comfort and home.  It feels like I'm losing a piece of myself.  It feels like a slow, painful death, and I'm having to die and grieve the loss all at the same time, all while expectantly looking ahead, trusting, hoping, walking by faith into the unknown, the wilderness, the promised land. (What are those?)  That's what transition feels like to me.

And today Lord, I'm tempted to look back like Lot's wife and turn myself into a pillar of salt (Genesis 19:26). But I won't.  Not today.  God, I feel all these things, and yet, the truth is where You are, where Your presence leads me by pillar of cloud during the day and by pillar of fire at night (Exodus 13:21), where You want me to go is where abundance of life will be (John 10:10).  In Your presence is fullness of Joy (Psalm 16:11).  You promise that.

If I am desperate for joy, I cannot turn back, I cannot go back, I cannot stay, I must press forward.  Press forward into You, lean hard into who You are, keep putting one foot in front of the other simply because in Your presence is fullness of Joy, is abundance of Life, is unconditional Love, is passionate Purpose, is pure Freedom.

Geez.  I almost forgot about freedom!  Going back means staying enslaved to old habits, old ways of thinking.  Moving forward means freedom to be with You in Your plan in the way You deem worthy.

So today, God, I may feel like an Israelite, and I may even be tempted to grumble and complain and moan and whine and fear like one as well, but the truth is I am Your child seated in the heavenlies with Christ (Ephesians 2:5-7), which might be the safest place to be, in all of time an history. In Christ, I am more than a conqueror over my thoughts and emotions (Romans 8:37). I am chosen (Ephesians 1:4).  I am wanted, and I am seen by You, the Creator God of the Universe who will provide my every need.  You hear me.  You know my struggles, and You are fully capable of sympathizing with my plight (Hebrews 4:15).  You have been human after all, and my hope rises in the glory of Your resurrection, Your power over life and death!

Father, forgive me for being weak in this flesh.  Forgive me for losing sight of who You are at times.  Forgive me for seeing only the walls of water on either side of me and not the promised land ahead.  Forgive me for taking for granted that you are leading me to freedom, always leading me to freedom, to green pastures, to still waters, to lands of milk and honey.

Please take away the sting of the things I feel like I'm losing, of the things You've asked me to sacrifice. Replace the sting with the joy of Your presence, Lord.  Joy in the waiting.  Joy in the transitioning.  Joy in the unknown.  Joy in the hard.  Joy to persevere.  Your presence fully present in it all.  Because You are worth it all.

Thanks for listening.  Thanks for never giving way when I lean hard into You.  Thanks for having a plan for me that's bigger than me.  Thanks for holding back the sea because I know I will walk dry ground to the other side of this transition.  You are my firm foundation, the rock on which I stand (1 Timothy 6:19).  My enemies will find all other ground to be sinking sand.

To You be all the glory,

Your humbled daughter,

Jennifer

JOURNAL FOUND!!!:How to Eat Humble Pie

So, exactly thirteen days ago, at around 1am in the morning, after a whirlwind of a house-hunting trip in California, I went to finally turn the light out on my nightstand after a day of unpacking, laundering and re-packing for our much needed lake getaway in just a few more hours.  In that moment, I realized my journal was not in its normal bedside location.  In that moment, I had a terrifying, paralyzing realization that I had left my journal in the seat pocket in front of me on our flight to California the previous Saturday.

Mind you, I saw the journal in the seat back pocket in front of me.  The picture was there in my mind. Right there in seat 23B on flight 1251, sandwiched between a pile of magazines and other reading entertainment for the five hour flight from Atlanta.  That is visually, in my mind's eye, the last place I remembered seeing my journal, the last place I remembered touching it to put it in the seat-back pocket.

The next 96 hours of house-hunting are a blur.  So many tough decisions in such a short period of time. But at 1am, five days later, I knew I had left my journal on that airplane, and the gasp of realizing I had just absent-mindedly forgotten seven years of letters to my children almost took the oxygen out of the room and scared my husband to death.  I was nauseated thinking that journal might be lost.  I wanted to call everyone, someone, anyone on that plane!  But it was 1am, and so I had to file my first lost and found claim #243324, and try to sleep.  All I could think was, "Dear God please give me back my journal." Over and over and over, over the next three days, this is the only prayer I could think to pray.

I was desperate. Frantic, fearful, and yet oddly hopeful all at the same time.

I wrote a letter that I not only posted on Facebook for the whole world to see and share, but I then mailed and faxed hard copies of that letter to every person and entity within Delta and local news stations as well.  I contacted cleaning crew companies with which Delta contracts.  I Facebook messaged with over 30 strangers in regards to accessing information about my flight and where it had been and gone.  I emailed with probably 30 additional strangers over the past 13 days, piecing together the puzzle of the path my journal must have taken.

I was a VERY squeaky wheel, and I made quite an online ruckus.  I even had a reporter in Australia publish the story in an online news magazine!  Australia of all places!!  That published article prompted a personal phone call from a Delta higher-up assuring me that Delta was doing everything in their power to find my journal.

Well, I found my journal.  I should say the Holy Spirit found my journal.

About four days ago, I had this nudging in my spirit, "Why don't you call the hotel where you stayed?"

What?  Why don't I call the hotel where I stayed?  That's silly.  I vividly remember seeing that journal in the back seat pocket of the plane.  I have a visual memory of it.  I have no memories whatsoever of ever putting my hands on that journal after that moment.

"But it was a very emotional, very busy, very in-and-out-on-the-go trip.  You even switched rooms after the first night in the hotel." The Voice in my spirit wouldn't let up.

No way.  There's no way that journal is in the hotel.  But what if it is?  What if I just made a giant fool of myself in front of the entire Delta community?  What if I just caused a big, gigantic hoopla for Delta over nothing?  All those wonderful people who helped.  All those employees who have felt bad for not seeing it or not knowing, who I hope didn't, but may have caught some flack for this?  If it's at that hotel, how do I eat crow in front of what I've been told is THOUSANDS of people at this point in time?

My pride almost never made the call.  I was almost willing to lose my journal over a matter of pride.  If the hotel had my journal, I didn't want to humble myself in front of thousands of people and apologize for making your lives more difficult, more frustrating, more annoying in any way.

But I wanted to find my journal more.

So I texted my husband, who was on a business trip in California this week, and told him, just on a whim to check with the hotel we stayed at.  It was a whim.  NOT.  I should have known.  You'd think after almost 30 years of walking with the Lord I'd recognize His voice by now.  Nope.  Silly me, blinded by pride and fear, it took me four days of hearing His still small voice to finally ask my husband to just check with the hotel to be sure.

And there it was.  My journal!!!!!  Safe and sound and in the hands of my husband, heading back home to me in just a few short days!

And in a space in time when I should have felt ecstatic, relieved, over-the-top happy, I suddenly felt very, very ashamed and stupid and impetuous for involving the whole, wide world before thinking to check everywhere I'd been and not just the airplane.  All feelings that I very rarely feel because I'm not typically this frantic, bothered, panicked or thoughtless.  Not typically brave enough to ask for help or draw this much attention to myself either. (So many lessons learned....)

Why did we never check with the hotel to begin with?  Because I faultily, vividly remembered leaving it on the plane.

I checked with everyone else on the face of the planet, why not the hotel just to be sure?  I don't have an answer for that one.  Other than I thought I was right.  I thought my memory was right.  Turns out I was very, VERY wrong. (And my husband is now doing a little happy jig somewhere because that is something I hardly never admit to--being wrong.)

But this time I was wrong.  VERY wrong.  And in being wrong, because of social media, I effected more lives in probably a negative way than I intended.  I tried to stay gracious and understanding and grateful to everyone, so I pray that no one was offended, and when you read this, I pray you try not to roll your eyes too hard into the back of your heads.  But let's be honest, if it was me, I'd be shaking my head and saying, "Geez. This lady is out of it."  A good ole' southern "bless her heart" is definitely appropriate here.

I hope that none of you think, 'Well that's the last time I ever take something like this seriously again!' Please don't!  It was an honest mistake on my part, and people, your encouraging words and all the help all of you provided in every way is what kept me from sinking into a bigger pit than I was already starting to dig for myself.

I would be about to cry and a complete stranger would send a Facebook message to me saying they were still praying my journal would be found.  I would be about to throw in the towel and give up hope, when I'd get a follow up email from someone I don't even know who cared enough to check in because they were still hoping I'd find the journal.  And it was strangers who kept reminding me that my hope is rooted in a big God who loves ALL of us, who died for ALL of us, who has the power to return that journal to me.

Just your encouraging words and willingness to do the little things you could to help made a HUGE impact in my life.  It left an impression.

So the next time a desperate cry for anything comes across your Facebook page, please don't look the other way.  Please don't become cynical and uncaring because this Mama made a horribly annoying mistake.  Just clicking the 'Share' button is enough to pay it forward, to have a small ripple effect in the life of one person who feels a little lost in that particular moment of their life.

If social media is ironically beginning to isolate us from each other, this is one way to use it to try and truly connect in a meaningful way.

So here I am, eating a giant slice of humble pie, asking for your forgiveness for any bother I've caused in your lives, and hoping you'll agree we all do stupid things sometimes.

So a BIG THANK YOU goes out to the Delta airlines community.  A HUGE, GIGANTIC round of applause.  Once my message broke the automated wall, the people inside were understanding, considerate, empathetic, helpful, and proactive.  Every email was professional.  Every person was encouraging and spoke very highly of their colleagues.  Different employees throughout the company assured me that the cleaners, airline attendants, and gate agents were all very capable and more than willing to do a thorough job of trying to find my journal.  They all spoke so highly of each other, never bad mouthing anyone from within the company, never being discouraging in any way.  They all truly thought they could help me find the journal in their own ways.  Even Roger Salz, a higher-up from within the Atlanta Delta system, was very kind to call me personally and assure me that they had found all kinds of items for passengers in the past, and he would notify everyone he could to make sure this item was found as well.

Delta, thank you.  Thank you for your time and energy.  Forgive me for being what has turned out to be a nuisance with my online plea.  It's safe to say, you have a customer for life, and I will throw as much grace your way in my future travels as you have thrown at me over this whole journal debacle.  I really can't say thank you enough.

Thank you to everyone.  To each of you that prayed.  To each of you that encouraged.  To each of you that spared a moment to help a little.  Thank you.

Ultimately, it was God who found my journal.  Who prompted me to swallow my pride and make the call to the hotel.  Why He didn't give me that idea 13 days ago I cannot answer, but it was definitely His voice that made that thought take root.  Not one person had ever suggested I try calling the hotel we stayed in.  Not one.  Only Him.  Only my Jesus who knew exactly where it was the whole time, Who just needed me to experience some massive online humbling for some reason He has in His plan and His purpose for my life.  Time will tell.

But for now, I am grateful for many people I do not know.  Grateful for people who still pray for strangers.  Grateful that not all big, monster corporations are uncaring, inefficient, and unresponsive. Grateful for a God who saw fit to let me see all these people--the crowd of the unknown--in a different light. Grateful He used His presence, His Word (Micah 7:7), and the people in this world He created to never let me give up hope, even when I was tempted the most to do so.

Grateful to have my journal back, home safe--with a new label of my contact information freshly printed on the inside cover.

 

Where Does Your Hope Come From?

One year ago yesterday, a beautiful life left this world.  She took some spunk and spark and joy out with her that God has been faithful to show still blooms in the midst of the void left behind.  But it has been a long, slow, grueling year of choosing to look for joy and holding fast to what I found.

And somewhere in the midst of the void left behind, I have found blooming joy is full of the fragrance of hope.

Hope.  Hope anew.  Hope rising.  Fragile and virile and fragrant.  Hope. Hope in a God that makes all things new (Revelation 21:5). Hope that there truly is life after death, death of any kind (2 Corinthians 1:10).  Hope that one day things will get better, be brighter.  Hope.  It fills the soul and lightens the weight of the world.  Joy blooms and Hope fills life with sweetness and desire and the aroma of what's to come.

So I ask you, where does your hope come from?  In what do you place your hope?  When you make a statement like, ‘I hope everything turns out all right,’ or ‘I hope things will be different,’ or ‘I hope he/she makes a different choice,’ what exactly are you hoping in when you make those statements?

Is it just a flippant desire you throw out into the universe?  Is it a dependence on positive thinking will result in positive outcomes?  Is your hope grounded in fate, destiny, good karma?  What is hope to you?  And where do you believe it originates?

Because hope is a powerful, powerful thing.  Hope raises the phoenix from the ashes.  Hope is the life preserver for the sinking soul.  Hope makes another day worth living. Hope is the difference between a life lived anew and a life wasted.  Hope is power. 1 Corinthians 13:13a lists, "But now faith, hope, love, abide these three." Abide in these three is our command.  Maybe because the power to change life as we know it abides in these three?

So if hope is this powerful, it begs the question from where does it originate its power?  Some would argue hope comes from within.  It is the gumption, the force of the will to press on and be better, do better.  But then, if this is true, then hope originates within myself, and goodness me, I am nothing.  I am flawed.  I am mistaken. I am weak.  I am powerless.  Heaven help me if hope comes from within me!  I am only human. If anyone’s hope is based on me or anyone else from the human race, we are lost already.  Doomed to be disappointed and left hopeless because everyone will fail us at some point in time, including ourselves.

Some would argue hope comes from a higher source, a spiritual essence, a fated destiny of the universe, but this is so ethereal, so slippery and uneasy and fleeting.  It is a faith in something unseen and unproven and unsubstantiated. (My faith may be unseen, but it is not unproven or unsubstantiated, an important difference to note.)  This kind of hope is seated in the mind of the believer, not the heart, and my friends, I have proven that my mind is a throne room for the lies of the Deceiver at times. It can too easily be led astray by the latest cultural line of thought, the latest fad that creates an emotional connection.  Emotions can be just as deceiving.

No, truth lies in one Person.  I have found joy to bloom in the presence of one Person (Psalm 16:11).  And in my study of the resurrection of Christ this past Easter, I have found hope to be embodied and originated in one Person.  The Person of Jesus Christ, the Creator Son of God who lives.  

WHO IS ALIVE!

Did you hear me?  My Jesus lives!  And the reality of that truth is the origin of hope.  As my BSF leader pointed out, for every other religion that revolves around a single person, there is a grave with a body laying in it.  Not mine.  Not my Jesus.  His grave is empty (Matthew 28:5-6).  The linens that wrapped His body were neatly folded to the side (John 20:7). The stone in front of his tomb was rolled away.  It was being guarded by Roman soldiers who would have given their lives to do their duty, and instead they were left paralyzed in fear by an earthquake and angels come to proclaim the good news that Jesus was alive!  He was alive and seen in the days after His resurrection by more than 500 different people (1 Corinthians 15:6) over a period of 40 days (Acts 1:3).  He was touched.  He ate food.  He was/He is alive!!!

Do you understand what that means?  In Him alone is Hope of life after death.  His resurrection required a power no one else in the history of mankind can claim.  He raised Himself from the dead.  Now that is real power.  Ultimate power.  True power over life and death.  And in that power, His believers can truly hope.  The origin of my hope can be the power of Christ Himself, the power of a God who can raise not just others, but Himself from the dead.  In Him alone, my hope is real and true and powerful.  It is based on a perfect Person, the Big Creator God, not a thought or emotion or idea or the good intentions of others.

When I say to someone, “I hope it works out for you,” I can honestly mean, “I believe the God who raised Himself from the dead is capable of working things out for you,” because that’s truth, and that’s where my hope comes from.  Where does yours?

Because at the end of the day, when life sucks and is hard and the ones you love are suffering or have died and left this earth, is belief in yourself really powerful enough to get you through the day, to keep you from falling into despair? Job 8:13b states matter-of-factly, 'The hope of the godless will perish.'  It seems the one sure way to have no hope is to have no God, no risen Savior.

Is it really your family and friends that give you hope? Or is it the God of your family and friends that is secretly, silently leaking hope into your life through them? 

Is the universe, your destiny, your fate where your hope originates?  Or is it the God who created this universe and determines your days from the moment of conception that instills hope into your life? (Psalm 139)

We are only human.  We need to be careful to stop attributing what is God’s alone to our own thoughts and innovations.  We have nothing that He has not chosen to give or entrust us with.  We are nothing without Him.  I am nothing, and He is everything, and that is more than enough to bring joy and let hope rise.

I once stated that as a believer and follower of Christ we are the only real Joy people will experience in this life, everything else is a fake.  I come to you proposing the same is true of Hope.  Without a risen Savior, a God who has power over life AND death, people have no real hope because their hope has no real power. 

Their positive thoughts can change nothing, but a God who raises Himself from the dead can change everything.

So to all the skeptics, I write here to offer a true source of Hope, of Joy, of Love, of Life.  I ask you to consider who Jesus Christ really is, who He might really be to you because if you are looking for Hope in your life, you need look no further.

And if you truly believe Him to be who He says He is, then why aren’t we more willing to throw off the sins of all that entangles us and hold fast to the feet of Jesus and just let Him live through us?  I need to stop over-thinking and over-analyzing, and just be His child.  Be at His feet like the women at the feet of their risen Lord, clinging in worship, waiting for His instruction to go and tell (Matthew 28:9).

Because Love should be our driving purpose.  Joy should fuel the vehicle of our love, and Hope is the power, the energy created in the process that keeps a body in motion, keeps us able to move forward and onward, always pressing toward the finish line.

Hope is powerful.

And the hope of seeing my Savannah Veale again one day (and all those I love who have gone on before me, for that matter), spurs me on deeper into the heart of a God I can’t live without.

"And in His name the Gentiles will hope" (Matthew 12:21)---Yes, yes they will.  Yes, I do.

For Those Who Suffer

One set of parents woke up one day to find their 5 year old has an inoperable brain tumor.

One family has lost one husband/father, and now their new husband/dad faces stage four lymphoma.

Another husband/father faces the hard truth of chemo treatments every week for the rest of his life just to keep the cancer at bay with no hope of a cure.

Still another friend just lost her third round battle with breast cancer after being in remission twice.

And these are just the people I know that come to mind in this moment. There are countless others.

It seems like cancer is everywhere.  It seems like it is encompassing the lives of so many.  It seems to surround and cloud and choke at the heart and lives of so many I love and care about.  It can appear hopeless at times.

And in the midst of that lie from the devil, I hear the small whisper of my Big God say, "But I have been there, I am there, I will be there.  I have already been there.  I go before you, before them, I AM before you, and I AM before them.  They will not take one step in a place in time where I have not already been, where I AM not already present."

And somehow in those words, there is great comfort and great hope.

I cannot tell any of my friends that their loved one will not die.  I cannot tell them definitively that God's will is healing in their lives.  I will not remind them that God works all things for their good because right now, reality is life may not be good for them, God may not feel good to them, and those words are of no comfort.  I will not preach that God knows best to them because even when I tell that to myself, it feels flat and lifeless and cold.

But my friends, fleshly feelings deceive. And truth is truth whether I feel it or not.

My God is not cold (Psalm 86:15).  He is not distant (Psalm 34:18).  He is not a puppet master pulling the strings of our lives for His own cosmic entertainment (Isaiah 55:9).  No.  No matter how it may feel, the Truth is my God is Love (1 John 4:8).  The truth is He embodies Hope (Romans 15:13).  The truth is He is Creator God that always has been and always will be (Revelation 22:13). So for all my friends who are struggling deeply with the paths He has asked them to walk, with the difficulties He has entrusted you to endure, I pray my words can point you to Who God is, not what He can do for you, but simply to Who He is.

Because in the moments when we don't understand His will, His purposes, His actions, His choices for our lives, in those moments we must lean hard into who He actually is.  And He said, "I AM."  He promises that you, my friends, will not walk anywhere He hasn't already actually been because His presence knows no boundary of time and is limitless and beyond comprehension.

So when life seems beyond hard, and God seems unfair, know that I will be lifting you in prayer, and I won't be praying that God's will will be done, and I won't pray that He works all things for your good; I will be praying that you never lose sight of who He is--your Refuge, your Strength, your Banner, your Protector, your Provider, your Hope, your Love, your Light, your Life, your Truth.  I will be praying that His ever-present Presence is tangible even in the moments when you might give up on Him, you will know He NEVER gives up on you.  He never lets you go.

There is comfort and hope in Him alone.  Just the knowledge that He IS and always will be is comfort and hope alone.  I pray you know and cling to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob--the God of the living, not the dead (Matthew 22:32).

He is present, and He is enough.

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!

What It Feels Like to Move On

Nine months she's been dancing in heaven; bet it feels like eternity, bet it feels glorious.

Nine months now, I've thought of her almost daily.  Nine months now, my daughter has welled up in tears at bedtime asking, "Why did Miss Savannah have to die?"  I still have no good answer to that question.  The answer, "Because God decided it was time for her to go home with Him," falls flat and hard like stale bread after being repeated so often.  I'm to the point where I just want to tell my daughter, "I don't know," and give up on trying to explain God.  But that would be giving in to the anger and the resentment, and even though I don't know, I do trust, so if I relay anything to my daughter, I pray she believes I trust God made the right decision whether I like it or not.

As for me, well, I can think of her now and smile at the corners of my mouth.  The tears still tickle behind my eyes and in the back of my nose, but they don't spill and fall and flow at her every thought.

I can see her beautiful, beautiful face posted by still-grieving friends and smile that I was privileged enough to have known such a beautiful soul here on earth.  Her beauty shines out of the joy she carried wherever she went.

So, I guess, I'm to the point it feels good to remember her and love her and appreciate all the time I had with her, however too short it may have been.  I can feel grateful that God gifted her as part of my life, as part of my story.

I think the phrase time heals all wounds is a lie though.  

For those not as close to her, time might heal the wound completely.  But for the rest of us, the ones in her closer inner circle, I've come to accept there will always be a nasty scar that aches when the weather turns bad or burns and tingles a little when the dead skin underneath is poked and prodded the wrong way.  And for her family, her mother, her father, her sisters, her brother--I'm pretty sure the wound will never heal completely.  Anything can accidentally reopen it and cause it to bleed again, even if just a little.  That's a reality I do not envy them, and I pray specifically Jehovah Rapha (God of healing) is their God daily. (Psalm 22:24; Job 5:18)

No, time will not heal all wounds, but God is sufficient to sustain all wounds. (2 Corinthians 3:5)  His presence in our lives is the ultimate salve of comfort. (Psalm 23:4) His words are the icepack for the swelling.  (Psalm 18:30) The love of His people the bandage needed to protect. (1 Thessalonians 5:11) He has not failed me once in these past nine months.  He has not let me drown in the pit of despair or stay stuck in the muck of sorrow.  No, He has continually set Himself before me and inserted Himself so poignantly that I cannot ignore His overwhelming Self.

When I place my eyes continually on Jesus, I cannot see anything but His glory.  Even when I close my eyes, His glory still shines in the dark, image burned into my retinal being.

No, He has been faithful to place before me His plan.  A plan that seems crazy and over-the-top, but His plan nonetheless.  A journey that I had hoped Savannah Veale would have taken with us at some point in time, even if just for a summer.  I would have adopted her as one of my own in a heartbeat. But no, God's plan was that our family take the next step to California completely on our own, no comforting people from home to join us, no crutch for me to lean into other than Christ alone.

And maybe many of you moving on from this death or other deaths in your life are being asked to do the same thing.  Lean hard into Christ alone.  Support yourself, your decisions, your thoughts, your desires, your everything on Him alone.

Maybe you're still miserable because you've been angry with God.  Why do it His way when you've already given up so much? experienced so much loss?  And while this is a completely normal, rational, earthly response, the fact remains, you will remain miserable.  God is big enough to take the full wrath of your anger.  Let Him have it...then let it go.  Forgive God for designing life different than you planned.  Forgive yourself for blaming God, for being mad at God. Forgive and move on. (So easy to type, so hard to do...another post for another day...)

And when you find yourself moving on again, don't try to do it alone.  You may not be angry at God anymore, but you don't have to be lonely either; you don't have to be a shell of the person you once were.  You can give yourself permission to live life, no, to even ENJOY life.  And when you truly desire that joy in your life again, when you're heart is desperate for the spark and life and hope and purpose to return, guess where you will have to find it?

Right back in the arms of the God who's been there all along. The same God who had the power and right and authority to take things out of your life, also has the power and right and authority to place new things into your life. (Job 1:21, 5:18)   It's a hard pill to swallow sometimes, but for me, I have to sigh and fall into Him even harder and throw my hands up in the air and say, "It's Your plan God.  Not mine.  I really wouldn't want Your job anyway." Acceptance.  And when you finally lean fully into Him, He begins to open your eyes to all the blessings swirling around you that have been there this whole time, and then when you lean a little harder, learn to trust Him a little longer, you start to experience all the things He is continually making new around you. (Revelation 21:5)

And life returns.  And you wake up one day, in the midst of all the grief, and you smile.  And there is joy.  A joy that blooms in the midst of the muck.  And that is why followers of Christ must lean fully into Him through all the trials of life, so the world will see we are the joy that blooms in the midst of the muck.

Joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit, a natural byproduct.  The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of God the Father and Jesus Christ Themselves.  When we fully lean into Christ, lean into the identity of who we are in Him, we experience joy, but don't be fooled, we possessed joy the minute His Spirit dwelt within us. Possessing a piece of chocolate and experiencing a piece of chocolate are two TOTALLY different ideas. (For lack of a better analogy and want of a simple one.  Joy is so much better than chocolate!)  When we experience joy, the people around us see Christ walking among them. 

The followers of Christ are the only source of true joy this lost world ever has the hope of knowing.

Can you imagine never knowing joy?  Real joy.  The inner joy that keeps you singing even when life has you chained and imprisoned in the moment? (Acts 16:16-40) The kind of joy that invokes praise in the midst of grief, pain, the hard?(Acts 7:54-60) Can you imagine never knowing that?

Those who don't follow Christ have never known that joy, and never have hope of knowing it without Him in their lives.  What they think they know as joy is a far cry from truth.  This world sells them a lie, and sometimes, even as believers, we buy the lie of happiness, success, fame, fortune, charity, denial of self for the good of the many, good works, possessions, ministry, our children, our family, other relationships--the list goes on and on and on.  But what Satan tries to fabricate in our lives as experiences of joy are simply fakes and distractions because they don't even come close to touching the experience of the real thing!

What does it feel like to move on?  It doesn't feel like the end of a storm.  It's not necessarily a sense of relief.  It's not even necessarily the feeling of the lifting of a burden.  Savannah Veale will still be dead when I think about her again the next time, but moving on feels like when that thought comes, when the grief rises, I choose in that moment to lean HARD into Christ.  I mean, I put my full weight right into His arms and His person, and I grab onto the scriptures He's given me through the years, and the knowledge of His unchangeable character that He has revealed in my life, and I lean HARD into Him. No holding back, not an ounce of support on my own two feet, most of the time I stop dead in my tracks, and now sometimes instead of just leaning, I'm learning to do a complete trust fall right into His arms.

And only there, in His presence, in His capable, able arms, in the midst of the hard, in the midst of the leaning and letting go, in the midst of the grief, the hurt, the pain, the difficulty--right smack dab in the middle, with all of it still whirling around me, in the eye of the hurricane of those emotions--I HAVE JOY because I HAVE CHRIST.

Plain and simple.

And let me tell you something, when I have Christ, my countenance, my inner being, carries a strength in Him that springs directly from joy--even in the midst of the hard. (Psalm 28:7)

So the next time you see someone who is struggling (and let's just be honest, aren't we all struggling, all the time, with something, albeit small or big?), the next time you see someone in a situation where they should be struggling, they should be crying in a corner, bent and broken and defeated by their circumstance, they have every right to complain, grumble and criticize, and yet they smile slowly, not forced, but knowingly and tell you God is good, God is sufficient, God is able, God is enough, it's not easy, but God gets me through the day--consider yourself blessed and favored because you've just encountered real joy, you've just been smiled on by Jesus in the flesh.

I must learn better to recognize it, appreciate it, and duplicate it because actually experiencing joy in my life is what it feels like to move on.