Feeling the Hurt

“Get in line with the things you know

Feel the pain, feel the sorrow

Touch the hurt and don't let go

Don't let go, don't let go

Get in line with the things you know

Learn to cry, like a baby

Then the hurting won't come back

Won't come back, won't come back”

                        - “The Hurting,” Tears for Fears, 1983

I’ve been listening to this song since the mid-1980’s.  As a teenager, I was in love with Roland Orzabal, Curt Smith and everything Tears for Fears.  An ultimate groupie, I had every published album I could get my hands on.  After I became a Christian, I haven't listened to TFF as often, but have found I gravitate back to their music off and on.  I listen more intently now, noticing the words and discerning their meaning.  They were just words and music to me before.  Yet, the songs always brought me a sense of comfort, perhaps reminding me of a different time and place, yet still timeless.

As I played “The Hurting,” a song from the album of the same name, I heard the lyrics differently.  I heard them as if the Holy Spirit was telling me something new.  I am uncovering some deep pain and hurt from the loss of my dad 24 years ago.  He was diagnosed 31 years ago.  This past week I have been more out of sorts than usual. “Yesterday was plain awful,” in the words of Annie as she sings with Daddy Warbucks.  Between the physical manifestation of my hurts to the emotional void I find myself in, I am dealing with some big stuff. 

As my counselor was praying over me, I had an image, not too surprisingly, of the vessel that represents the metaphor in my book.  The clay pot, faded and cracked, was full to the brim.  The water had begun to leak, however, not in small trickles down the side, but forcibly through the cracks, like a dam about to break.  This metaphor is quite appropriate and accurate.  The vessel is me.  All that is inside me is about to break loose and I have been trying to patch the holes.  I have been successful up until recently.  Anger, hurt, and depression seep through into my everyday life.  I have used temporary fillers and called them “grace” and “forgiveness.”  In an effort to be a “good” Christian model to my family and those in my sphere of influence, I have stuffed my emotions so deep that I could no longer name what they were.  I’ve carried my boulders of pain and sorrow and have yet to exchange them for the lighter yoke that Jesus so freely offers me.

So, what of this cracked and bursting vessel?  It won’t be long now before the structure gives way.  It’s coming, just like the storm that has been rising in my heart.  I have made a conscious choice to keep the rolling thunder and crashing waves at bay. However, as I get deeper into my weary soul, my strength fails me.  The walls are definitely about to rupture.  As much as I try to prepare myself, I don’t know that I can.  Jesus is in the middle of it, I can see Him there, on the water, calmly waiting for me to come to Him.  But, fear holds me captive on the beach.  Do I have the faith to walk towards Him?  Towards the One Who can give me the one thing I need so desperately?   I don’t want to feel the pain.  I’ve kept it at bay for so long now.  What happens when I let go?

I hear the lyrics in my head, ““Get in line with the things you know, Feel the pain, feel the sorrow. Touch the hurt and don't let go, don’t let go, don’t let go.”  What does that look like?  Why is it so scary to touch the hurt? “Get in line with the things you know. Learn to cry, like a baby. Then the hurting won't come back, won't come back, won't come back.”  I know our tears bring catharsis.  I have cried, but have I cried out?  Is there a difference?  Stoicism is not always admirable.  Who am I being stoic for?  What kind of hero do I think I am?  Is that even why I am keeping it all in?

So many lyrics run through my head, more from Tears for Fears.  Even the very name of the band speaks volumes.  The name comes from Arthur Janov’s “The Primal Scream Theory.”  Exchanging our fears for tears is one of the concepts derived from Janov’s work and the origin of the band’s name.  It reminds me of the Scripture:

“And provide for those who grieve in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.” – Isaiah 61:3

I never realized how much I needed to see those words until just now.  “And provide for those who grieve. . .”  For too long I have not allowed myself to grieve.  I did not grieve the loss of my father, my first marriage, my childhood, my teenage dreams, my ideals about relationship with my mother and more.  In holding on to the past hurts, refusing to acknowledge them, they have occupied my heart in such a way that joy and peace have been edged out.  All I have known is the pain of loss, even without always knowing the cause.  And, now, as the proverbial lava comes bubbling to the surface, I am still trying to keep it at bay.  I’m still afraid of feeling those emotions.  It’s one thing to name them, but another thing entirely to feel them, to give them space to exist out in the open.

The Scripture says in Proverbs 4:23, “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.”  I have been guarding my heart in the wrong ways, avoiding confrontation with the very emotions that kept me in bondage.  The Scripture is true – even when you are guarding your heart the wrong way, it will determine the course of your life.  For me, it has been fraught with depression, anxiety, fear and co-dependency.  Jesus has so much more for me.  I know that in my head.  I’m just waiting for it to get to my heart. 

 

God wastes nothing, not even the freezing temperatures!

This may not start out as one of my regular types of posts.  It's more like a diary entry.  However, I have the feeling God will show Himself throughout it as He wastes nothing, not one thing, and the event I'm going to tell you about is no different.  So, prepare for a long read, because there is much to share.

“Many are cold, but few are frozen.”  Oh, this quote by fellow "The Chosen" extra Mimi Barker sums up the day we all had yesterday.  About 2200 of us converged on the Midlothian, Texas area, just south of Dallas.  We all arrived at different times, and our journeys were as varied as we are, but we all shared an incredible opportunity to be a part of one of the most amazing Christian media projects to date. And here is a bit about mine.

If you are unfamiliar with “The Chosen,” please check out www.thechosen.tv and watch Season 1.  You can also download the app in your app store and watch it right on your phone or stream it to your TV.  It is a TV series about Jesus’ life and ministry.  Unlike most Bible projects, this is the first series of its kind.  Co-written and directed by Dallas Jenkins, the son of Jerry B. Jenkins (co-author of the Left Behind series), it brings Jesus to the screen in a way we have never seen before.  Fully God and fully Man, we see Jesus perform miracles as well as brush his teeth, make a meal and even laugh.  The cast has been divinely handpicked and represents the disciples and the life of those who lived in the First Century.  I could go on and on, but really, it’s best if you go check it out for yourself.

I have been following the show since 2018 when it first began to gain some major social media attention.  Hooked at the start, we as a family, have followed and supported this show - the most successful crowd-funding media project of all time.  Fortunate to be an investor on a miniscule level, we have been supporters by spreading the word and purchasing lots of merchandise (cue nervous laugh here as I admit I might be slightly addicted to "The Chosen" swag. . . )

We were able to sow a little seed into the project financially last year which had one promising perk – participating as an extra for the filming of the Sermon on the Mount (hereinafter “SOTM”).  Not knowing when this might occur, I tucked this excitement away and just awaited the email that said it was time to RSVP. 

Now, I will tell you, when that day came, I was quite giddy and I RSVP’d as quickly as I could and send all three of our names and pictures.  Once we had received confirmation and the details, we made our travel plans.  We were to go to Texas just four days after my daughter’s thirteenth birthday!  Sounds like fun, eh?  Keep reading!

About three weeks before we were set to depart, I received an email with more details, including instructions on how to prepare our costumes.  Wait, what??  I somehow missed that tiny detail and kind of freaked out.  Soon, I began “buying all the things” on Amazon and visiting local thrift and discount stores.  The Lord showed me where to shop, and amidst the stress of getting it right, I was able to outfit the family.  Of course, Hubby’s costume was tweaked last minute as he arrived home from traveling the night before we were to leave.

As we began to prep, a wonderful community on Facebook was created to foster connection and to help with tricks and tips.  I even participated in a couple Zoom calls with some lovely folks and was humbled and blessed by all the encouragement that was poured out by my Christian brothers and sisters.

And, then the day came.  Traveling began at o’dark thirty (6 am) with a trip to the Cincinnati/NKY airport.  Delayed due to snow and ice, we were late getting off to Chicago, only to be delayed again due to weather conditions.  We finally arrived in Dallas!  WOO-HOO! 

Whelp – that celebration was short-lived as we discovered my pro-traveler hubby grabbed the flight attendant’s bag instead of one of our bags.  After a bit of frustrations, we were able to track down the bag as it traveled to Birmingham, Alabama and back and reunite the flight attendant with her bag and us with ours.  The funny thing was that we had the two suitcases of costumes and it was our personal bag that went missing temporarily.  Still, crisis averted and although we spent an additional couple of  hours driving in order to retrieve the suitcase.  In the end, we had everything we left home with.

During our wait for the Birmingham plane to return, my daughter had her first Jack-in-the-Box meal as well as her first of two Whataburgers.  Evidently, a couple of the YouTubers she watches live in Texas and speak often of these delectable treats.  She is now hooked on Whataburger, yet, unfortunately for her, there is no such thing in Northern Kentucky.  At least she can say she tried it and found a fast food burger she actually likes!

One of the neat things about the SOTM Extras Facebook group was that we were able to connect with others. After connecting with a few who were staying at the same hotel as we were, we met in the hotel lobby with about twenty others and prayed for the filming day, the cast, crew and even for each other as well as the impact the show will continue to have as it progresses.  Now, if you know me at all, you’ll know I am not the shy type and quickly connected with some new friends, exchanging numbers and making plans to meet up on set.  What a wonderful way to end the evening! 

The next morning, we were up bright and early, donning our costumes over thermals and double socks.  We had been watching the weather and although originally predicted to be in the low 50’s, it was in the 30’s with a wind chill in the 20’s.  My daughter got a rough start to the day amidst all the prep.  All I could do was pray, and try to bite my tongue as the teenager in her reared its ugly attitude.  Even hubby was highly frustrated and hangry, but we managed to get in the car and make it to the stadium.

Upon arrival, around 9 am, we joined the line of cars waiting to enter the parking lot for our rapid Covid antigen tests.  Prior to arriving, everyone was required to get a Covid PCR test and show printed results that we were all negative.  As we sat in our designated parking spot, we witnessed an army of volunteers quickly and efficiently check us in, administer our tests, and send us on our way to park the car after our negative results.  This took about 10 minutes.  Not bad when you’re processing around 2000 people (which they began to do as early as 5 am!).

The cold was already biting at us as we boarded the bus for the fifteen-minute drive to the set. Now, when I say “set,” I am referring to the large field somewhere on the Salvation Army property that is being utilized by "The Chosen" for filming.  No brick and mortar buildings, just a few tents, several tables with chairs, a plethora of port-o-potties and a stage for the entertainment.  It was COLD.  I was able to grab one cup of coffee and a few snacks before they all ran out.  We then sat at a table to rest and await instruction. 

On the bus, a sweet man from Oregon, whom we “adopted” for the morning.  He was one of many whom we would meet at that table.  Several would come and go throughout the morning and we all talked about where we hailed from and how long we’ve been following the show.  I don’t remember when, but at some point, two more women, whom I will refer to as J and B, joined us.  Being the shy, retiring extrovert I am (HA), I invited them to hang out with us as they had arrived alone. 

I don’t remember how the time passed, but between picking up pre-purchased merchandise, eating lunch and listening to Phil Wickham, Michael Jr., Kari Jobe and Cody Carnes perform for us, our new friend from the bus ventured on and we adopted J and B.  However, by this time, the frigid temps had my daughter on the brink of hypothermia and despite our many efforts to warm her, she could not make it out in the elements for the shoot.  J, B, and I headed towards the field designated for filming and an angel and her friend allowed my frozen girl to warm herself in their truck.   Again, the vast number of volunteers who were literally the hands and feet of Jesus are to be commended for their kindness, love and support.  Well done, my friends, well done.

The ladies and I decided we were going to be a group of women traveling together and sat huddled up on our blankets as we waited.  B offered her blanket to a mom holding a child who was crying due to being so cold.  Another sweet lady, C, joined us by this time.   A band of frozen, merry women were we!  We were asked to removed all coats, socks, glasses, and anything not First Century as well as silence and stow our phones.  We “milled about” and then sat to listen to Jonathan Roumie  (Jesus) speak parts of the Sermon on the Mount four separate times, trying to warm our frozen toes and hands in between takes.   Finally, we were given a break for about 30-45 minutes.  We left our blankets with another dear lady and headed back to the warming tent to meet up with my family and take a much-needed potty-break.

Now, I will have to tell you that God had His hand on this whole trip from the beginning.  He showed me His favor as I had noticed that certain giving levels allowed for certain numbers of family members to attend.  At the level we sowed, only one of us should have been on this trip.  However, despite this policy, there were spots for all three of us.  And, yet, still, only one of us actually participated.

Hubby stayed with my daughter in the warming tent until I came back for the break.  It was then we decided it would be best if he took her back to the hotel.  It broke my heart and I had already shed tears because I had so wanted this to be a family event.  But, as I said at the beginning, God wastes nothing and their going back to the hotel was part of His plan. 

As it was decided that they would leave the set for the warmth of the hotel, I asked J if she could give me a ride back as she, too, was staying at a hotel in the same area as we were.  She graciously agreed and hubby left, taking J's merchandise with him to be retrieved when she dropped me off.   Then, off to the frozen field we went!

By this time, we had shared a little bit of our journey.  Just enough to pass the time.  The next series of shots involved Jonathan (Jesus) speaking a few paragraphs as we sat and listened (without our warm coats, but our feet were covered and a bit warmer).  It was a blessing to see Jonathan work as he first had to mentally get into character and then would pause and start his lines again if it didn’t feel right or he said something other than what was scripted.  During these scenes, the four of us women tried not to allow the sound of our teeth chattering to be a distraction as we shivered in the wind as it blew against our backs.  Three takes and an hour or so later, our roles as extras came to an end. 

Here's where I feel to remind you that we go through tough times that take us to places in the wilderness from which we must claw our way back to faith.  These are the places where our testimony is formed.  These are the places were our ministry in God’s kingdom grows and these are the places we see God’s sovereignty and plan.

As we wandered back to the main area to get on the bus, I began to share my testimony, although I’m not sure why.  I think someone asked me about it after I shared I was a Messianic Jew.  Through the course of my sharing, I mentioned I suffer from depression.  This is where I truly saw God moving.  My sharing sparked something in my new friend, J.  As we boarded the bus, we sat together and she shared a little more of her story.  She didn’t want to be there, actually, but her husband insisted.  She, too, suffers from depression and has been in a deep depression for many years.  My extroverted sharing and transparency allowed God to open the door to an opportunity for us to connect further.  I was getting excited.

As we said our goodbyes to B and C, J and I made our way to her car and eventually back to the hotel area.  Hubby had invited her to join us for dinner at his favorite pizza place and her husband and daughter, who had been back at their hotel for the day, agreed to join us. 

I shared more of my story with her and when we reunited with our families, it was like meeting old friends.  My daughter and her daughter hit it off immediately as did our husbands.  During the course of the evening, J's husband revealed that he had prayed over her, asking God to bring someone into her life that she could connect with.  As I listening in awe, my belief that my meeting her was a divine appointment became more apparent.  I was humbled and blessed.

My meeting J was not coincidence or chance.  Yes, my friends, I was there for a purpose.  Despite the challenges of traveling, despite the heartache of my family not being there with me during the majority of the event, and despite the bitter and numbing cold of my body, I would do it all again if just to meet this precious woman.  I made so many beautiful connections over the few hours we were in Dallas and out on the frozen tundra.  This event was more than just partaking in what I believe to be one of the most impactful media projects of all time.

I witnessed thousands of people be the hands and feet of Jesus as volunteers ministered to us and as the body of Christ ministered to others on the field.  I met and shared stories with believers from all over the country.  And, I met J, a God-ordained connection, that I pray He will water and cultivate into a long-lasting friendship.

J – if you are reading this, which I imagine at some point you will be, thank you for being obedient to your husband in just setting foot on that field, for being obedient to God as you persevered through the elements and for allowing me to see you as you are – a beautiful, complicated, broken yet blessed woman.  I look forward to the journey ahead, as the Lord allows it to unfold, and to continue to show that God wastes nothing, not a single nanosecond, for the good of those who love Him.

And to you, my reader, if you have stuck with me through this long and elaborate post, I pray you are reminded as well, that God sees you, knows you and is working all things together for your good, and not one hair on your head is unknown to Him.  Press on, my friend.  Press on.  He is with you and will never leave you nor forsake you.

“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name, you are mine.” Isaiah 43:1

Even in despair, God speaks.

When I was in the seventh grade, I had terrible writer’s block for an English assignment.  My dad was trying to help me through it and got so frustrated that he had to walk away.  Still, he came back and while I was still mad, he told me that I just needed to start writing and eventually the words would come. His advice has stuck with me through all these years.  And, so, here I am, doing just that - just writing. I don't know where this is going, but thanks for coming along for the ride.

It’s not that I have writer’s block, per se; it’s more like I have “life” block.  I feel stuck.  I feel overwhelmed, depressed and oppressed.  I don’t like who I am, who I’ve been or where I’m going.  I don’t even know where I’m going.  I’ve lost my drive, my dreams, my passion and my way.

It’s not easy for a Christian who has written blogs of encouragement to admit she is struggling so deeply.  It feels quite hypocritical.  I feel like everything I say I stand for has given way to the dark reality of where I’m really at.  I stuff my feelings behind a façade of confidence and strength.  The truth is, I’m crumbling inside and my anxiety is through the roof.  Tonight, I let the tears flow, but most of the time, I stop myself.  I don’t want anyone to see me hurting, but the pain inside of me eats at me all the time and I'm sure that it shows.  I feel I’ve lost touch with God.  I cry out to Him, but I don’t feel like I’m worth hearing.  Even as I type that, I know it’s a lie.  But, somehow that lie has become extremely loud.  

There are so many places I feel like a failure, especially when I use the lens of comparison.  I could elaborate, but that feels a little too raw right now.  I know comparison is the thief of joy and joy is yet another thing I've lost.  I don’t have discipline.  I'm not motivated.  I don’t have structure.  The  list goes on.

Even knowing I’m a child of God, I feel ”less than.”  I hate the things I hear in my head.  I hate that I don’t have the strength and faith to press in to Him.  Oh, me of little faith.  I have faith enough for others, but not for myself. 

It’s hard to even reach out for prayer.  I feel so lost and hopeless.  It’s ironic, isn’t it?  Despite all the writings I’ve published on my blog, I am the last to feel encouraged.  Such a hypocrite.  Such a fraud. 

 Yet, the Spirit says write…..

Here Me, My Daughter.

I AM with you.  You are not as alone as you feel.  You don’t need anyone or anything else but Me.  I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  Stop fighting Me.  Stop trying to “fix, manage and control” everything in your own life and in others’.  That’s not your job.  Your job is to sUrrENDer.  Remember that word?  You’ve been resisting Me for long enough.  You are listening to the wrong voices.  Hear only MY voice.  I AM the one calling to you in the distance.  If you would be still long enough, if you would quiet your mind long enough, and  turn your heart towards Me, you would hear My voice.  Remember, I AM not in the chaos; I AM in the whisper.  Breaking is part of My process.  Yet, you have resisted and it has become more painful that it needs to be.  Why don’t you trust Me?  I AM the only One who is trustworthy and true.  I have the balm to heal your deepest wounds and the scalpel to cut away the hard parts of your heart.  sUrrENDer.  How much longer will you suffer at your own hand?  I desire to heal you, cleanse you, make you new.  I can’t do that if you resist Me. I want ALL of your heart, not just pieces.  What is it that you fear the most?  Give Me that fear.  I have not given you a spirit of fear and timidity, but I have given you a spirit of power, love and a sound mind.  I will not make you do anything, but I ask you to yield yourself to Me.  I have never left you nor forsaken  you.  I AM with you always, in every trial and every triumph.  Do you remember the formula I gave you?  Trust + Obedience = Blessing.  I know you feel your faith is small.  But you know that all I require is a little faith – the size of a mustard seed.  Stop leaning on your own understanding and press into Me for My revelation.  Continue to talk to Me in prayer, bringing Me a spirit of gratitude.  I know that feels insurmountable right now, so find Me in the little things for I AM there, too.  I know you feel like a complete failure, but remember that I can work all things for good for those that love Me.  I know you love Me.  Let Me love you.  I created you for a purpose, for a time such as this and have called you to walk in that purpose.  The enemy wants nothing more than to see you give up.  But, that is not an option. Remember the Scriptures I strung together for you a few years ago? 

“I can do all things through Christ, Who strengthens me for He has said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you for My power is made perfect in [your] weakness' because the same Spirit of Him that raised up Jesus from the dead lives in me.”

My Spirit, the Holy Spirit, dwells in you.  He intercedes for you when you don’t know what or how to pray.  He guides you even in your distress.  Let His voice be loudest in your head. Let My voice speak to you from the pages you find hard to read right now.  I will help you focus. . . I just need you to try a little harder.  Release your pain to Me and I will show you how to be free. I will order your days, guide your steps and calm your heart if you let Me.  I stand at the door and knock. . .it’s up to you to let Me in.

 

Even in the depths of despair, God speaks.  When I sat down to write, I had no idea where it would go.  Perhaps it would just be an outlet for my tears, a written release of my pent up emotions.  Perhaps I would write out all the things that are troubling me, causing me to stumble.  In a way, I wanted to just argue with God and tell Him all the things I couldn't stand about myself.

Instead, the Spirit took over and spoke directly to me.  I pray He is speaking to you, too.  May each day bring new revelation and blessings to each of us.  May we seek to love Him with all our hearts, souls and minds.  Above all, let our hearts be receptive to the love He so freely offers us and paid the ultimate price for us to receive.

The Broken Wing Act

It’s been awhile since I’ve written (ok, a long while!).  It’s not that I haven’t had any deep thoughts that might be worth sharing.  I just have been in a weird place.  I’m praying this may be the beginning of coming out of it.

We recently moved to a new house.  A mere three and a half miles from our previous home, you’d think we might have moved to another city.  It’s not because things are unfamiliar. As a matter of fact, our surroundings by and large have not changed.  Our connections for the most part are the same. We might be shopping at a different grocery store location, but we’re still within the confines of the area we have always lived.  Yet, things are different.

Our new home is significantly bigger than the old one.  Sixteen years of memories have given way to the opportunity for new ones.  Of course, we’ve been quarantined during much of this time, but the blessings are springing up all around us.  New neighbors, new home with breathing room (my own space to craft and get away, maybe even write more!) as well as a new view.

At our previous house, the view we preferred was out the back windows.  Fifty acres of land went largely unused for the majority of the time we lived there.  Cows grazed the fields for the first ten or so years, in addition to wildlife such as deer, turkeys, coyotes, racoons, and various types of birds.  The Lord spoke to me often through that view.  And, now, my view has changed.  I now look out the front of my home for the better scenery.

While the house faces a main roadway, the view on the other side is of a beautiful farm, complete with horses and possibly a few cows.  As the front of the house faces west, the sunsets are spectacular.  Yet, as I prepare to share my latest insight, I realize it is not through the greater view that I received my revelation, but rather, the closer, more detailed one – the one right in my front yard.

It was on one of my morning walks with my dogs, I noticed a variety of bird I had never seen before.  It was flailing its wings as if it was injured.  I watched with interest, as did the pups, as this bird flapped its wings and chirped, if that is what you can call it.  I turned to walk away and to my surprise, the bird got up and scurried away on its feet as if nothing was wrong.  I did a double-take, and it was again on the ground, flapping and chirping, until we were a little further out and it hopped back on its feet again.  With my curiosity piqued, I immediately set to researching this bird.  

Of course, it didn’t take long to discover this species of bird is called a Killdeer, named so for the apparent call that sounds like “keel-deer” (although I don’t think it sounds like that at all).  A unique characteristic of this bird is the spectacle I observed called “the wounded bird act.”  As a way to protect its young, the mother bird will draw predators away by putting on this so-called “act.”  Knowing that, I realized just how successful this little creature was at drawing my (and the dogs') attention away from the two little baby birds who happened to have hatched from the nest in my globe blue spruce.  Fascinated, I begun to look for this little bird family each time I left my house, whether to walk the dogs, get the mail or drive somewhere.  I believe I read that the babies need 40 days with their parents before they can fly.  Of course, the number “40” is in and of itself significant in the Bible, but that’s not so much where the Lord drew my focus.  Let me explain.

There are many references in the Bible regarding the protection of the Lord.  I immediately recall Psalm 91:4, which says, “He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection” (NLT).   The imagery we often draw is of a mother bird sheltering her young with her wings, or, as I have observed the killdeer do, completely hide them by using her whole body (she sits on them!).  But, there is another image to which I am drawn while considering the ways God has wired this bird to protect her young.

The goal of the "broken wing" act is to draw the attention of the predator away from the vulnerable babies.  Could it be that the Cross is the very thing that draws our attention away from our own vulnerabilities?  Oftentimes, we are our own worst enemies.  Our flesh wrestles against our spirit. The latter half of Matthew 26:41 tells us to “For the spirit is willing, but the body is weak!” (NLT) We focus on our lack, on our past failures, on our strongholds, on our weaknesses and never move forward into victory.  But, if we look to the Cross, and remember that by His stripes we are healed (Isa. 53:5) and that we overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony (Rev. 12:11), we can be free.  We look to the Cross for our salvation.  Is it not our focus on our vulnerability that trips us up and keeps us in bondage?  

Because, on the flip side, we know that the enemy's goal to draw our eyes away from our Savior and bring our focus on all the things things we lack and suffer from - what we can't do, what we have done wrong, who we aren't, what and who we have lost.  Hopelessness creeps in and we too easily forget who we are in Christ and all He has done for us and in us.

But, looking for through the lens of the Word, the broken wing act is not an act at all, but rather the truth on which we must stand.  It is Christ’s wounds that reminds the enemy that he has been defeated.  His wounds must remind us of Who He is and who we are in Him.  It is essential for us to remember that the enemy has been defeated. Christ's death drew the enemy's focus away from us and to the Cross, where he thought he had won.  Instead, through Christ's resurrection, the victory is ours as well.

Each day, whether the threat is real or perceived, the momma bird drew my attention away from her precious young.  We, too, must look daily to the Cross to receive our hope and strength to move forward. Our threat is very real, for we not only do we battle ourselves, but the enemy wages war with us as well (Eph. 6:12).

No one said it is easy. The Lord knows I have a lot of work to do in my own life.  This quarantine has been challenging for me and I have struggled to embrace the lessons God is teaching me.  Depression has tried to be my companion during this time of "healthy at home."  Thanks to Momma Killdeer, I think I’m starting to see things a bit differently and each time I watch her feign her broken wing, I will be reminded of Christ and the price He paid for me to live a life where my vulnerabilities are the place where His strength is glorified.  

“Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:9-11 (NLT)

May the Cross ever draw our eyes away from ourselves and back to the One who gave His life for us.

"Find Me in the Wilderness"

What do you think of when you see the word “wilderness”?  Professor Google defines it as “an uncultivated, uninhabited, and inhospitable region, a neglected or abandoned area of a garden or town, or a position of disfavor, especially in a political context.” It’s always interesting to me to read a definition and then ponder what that really means in context of God.

Many of us often say we are in a “wilderness season.”  To the majority of us, that means we feel out of God’s favor, out of His reach and have no direction or clarity.  We think of the Jews that wandered in the desert for 40 years after God delivered them from Egypt.  But, too often we forget that God traveled with them – a cloud by day and a fire by night.

The Lord went ahead of them.  He guided them during the day with a pillar of cloud, and he provided light at night with a pillar of fire.  This allowed them to travel by day or by night.  And the Lord did not remove the pillar of cloud or pillar of fire from its place in front of the people. Exodus 13:21-22

Isn’t it interesting that we forget the fact that God went before them?  That His Spirit was constantly with them as they traversed the dry, hot terrain?  They did not go without - He provided food (manna), water and neither their clothes nor shoes wore out.

And, still, the people of Israel, the chosen nation of God, murmured and complained.  An entire generation missed out on the blessing of the new land because they could not stay focused on Him. We are no different than they were.

So, what is it in us that causes us to dismiss God’s presence from our every day lives?  We can all agree that it all started in the garden when sin entered the world.  Our Father gave us free will to choose Him or choose the world.  Sometimes that decision seems to live somewhere in the gray, where we want what God has for us, but are unable to give up the comforts, desires and lusts the world makes so appealing.  Mankind has not changed throughout the ages.  We are no different from our ancestors.  Just like them, we waver like the wind and vacillate back and forth between our faithfulness to God and faithfulness to ourselves. 

I find myself in this wilderness season.  But, as I cry out to the Lord, He reminds me that the wilderness is not the place where we are lost and forgotten.  It is the place where our dependence on Him becomes critical to our very existence.  It’s where our faith either leads us or defeats us. 

“Where is your faith?” Jesus asks in Luke 8:25. Many days I cannot answer that question.  In Matthew 8:26, He asks “’Why are you afraid? You have so little faith!’”  Again, I cannot answer.  My faith feels so small and unable to carry me.  And yet, Jesus tells me, “’Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.’” (Matthew 17:20). 

Hebrews 11:1 tells us that “Faith shows the reality of what we hope for; it is the evidence of things we cannot see.”  Why is faith so hard to muster in difficult times?  We say we believe but our hearts are frail and fickle.  It’s no wonder our wilderness journey feels so long and drawn out. And, still, He calls to us, “Find Me in the wilderness.”

I’m reminded of Jesus.  Luke 5:16 tells us that “… Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer.”  I know that Jesus was fully God and fully Man while he walked upon the Earth.  His need to withdraw and pray shows me that He had to lean on faith in His Father’s plan.  As He remembered how the Holy Spirit lead the people of Israel in the wilderness, He knew He could and would commune with His Father in the wilderness.  And, because His faith in Who He was and what the Father would provide for Him, Jesus sought His Father out in the very place most of us dread to venture.  And we know, His Father met Him there.

Beloved, are you in the wilderness?  It is not such a dry and desolate place.  It is not where you have lost favor with God.  It is not where you are abandoned and forgotten.  No, it is the place God leads you so He and He alone can show you His way.  It is the place where His presence never leaves you nor forsakes you.  It is the very place where He finds you and welcomes you into His arms.  It is the place where He makes things new.

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.

Isaiah 43:19

Tethered or Withered?

“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 NLT


If you have been around me for any length of time, or have had occasion to read any of my previous posts, you may have noticed that God speaks to me in metaphors. It’s not an audible voice that I hear, rather a thought that comes that I cannot claim as my own.

Recently, I have traveled and experienced God in ways I am not sure I can adequately convey. Between the crisp mountain air and natural formations of Colorado Springs and the beauty of a state park in Indiana, God has spoken through the voice of the very natural wonders He created. Even so, the most recent metaphoric revelation occurred in my own back yard.

Sometime early in the summer, my sweet daughter took the seeds of a butternut squash and tossed them across the fence dividing the land behind us and our backyard. She had hoped it would produce fruit in the same manner we harvested a beautiful little pumpkin the previous year. At the beginning of September as hints of autumn began to appear, we discovered the seeds had taken root and a vine began to grow along the barbed wire fence.

Upon inspection of the vine, one could see the strong, but tiny tendrils that gave the vine stability and the thick stalk that curled around the fence. The beautiful yellow flowers began to peak from underneath the covering of the thick, large leaves and occasionally, we’d see the flowers fall off and give way to the swell of fruit underneath. 

Not all the flowers produced fruit and some of the fruit that did grow only lasted a few days. Then, much to our surprise, a squash began to grow. 

As I watched the surviving fruit transform, I observed that very few of the other flowers produced such a fruit. And soon, we had another.

My sweet daughter caught an amazing picture of the new growth. I was in awe of the beauty it possessed. So much can be said about the process of seed becoming fruit. Yet, it wasn’t until I got home from one of my trips that I really saw the lesson that the Lord was trying to teach me.

You see, when I had returned, our tiny little fruit didn’t look the same as when I had last seen it.

No longer was the vine strong and resilient. Now, it was twisted and limp. The fruit was no longer growing, but had actually seemed to have shrunk in size. Upon further inspection, I observed the true source of the problem – this length of the vine was no longer connected to the main vine – its source of life.

Curiosity drove me to inspect the vine further and to look at the larger fruit that still appeared to be attached. It was attached, but not in the way I expected. The stalk was attached, but it was barely hanging on. Most of the connection had been severed, but the fruit could still receive sustenance from the vine. Oh, how the lesson came alive!

Jesus told us in John 15 that He is the source of life. As with many verses of Scripture, we often recite just one portion of a passage, but when we evaluate the entire context of a concept, we can receive deeper revelation:

“I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me.

“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing. Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned. But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted! When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father. (John 15:1-8, NLT, emphasis mine)

Echoes of that passage have rung in my mind and heart as I have traversed the last few weeks. Our small group is working through a Bible study on spiritual stamina.  Its purpose is to  encourage the very  disciplines that keep us connected to God.  The timing of this post s not coincidental as many of my recent conversations with God have been on this very topic. 

Jesus told the disciples that there is only one vine – Him. Apart from Him, we cannot grow. Apart from Him, we cannot produce fruit. Just as the farmer sowed seeds into the soil that is hard, rocky, or full of thorns, no good harvest will come forth. We oftentimes begin with high hopes and good intentions, but if we fail to stay connected to the source of our nourishment and strength, our fruit will wither and the branch will eventually be cut away.

Connectedness to God comes in many forms. It is not just reading His Word in your prayer closet or singing worship songs in the shower or car. It’s not only showing up for service on the weekends. All those things are extremely important, but what I believe the Lord was trying to teach us was that we must engage Him in conversation, invest in the life of our church and bond with other believers.

We, the vine branches, grow as we are connected to the One True Vine. The tendrils of our faith begin to grow as we allow ourselves to be immersed in God’s love and grace as well as draw from the truth of His Word. The fragrant flowers of our lives bloom and produce fruit as long as we stay engaged with His people and His church.

Granted, the trials we face cause us to want to withdraw. However, those are the times we must be tethered to the Vine, fiercely clinging to the source of all hope and strength that is only found in Jesus. We experience that strength and life when draw upon those with whom God has surrounded us. When we allow ourselves to become disconnected, our branch becomes weak and withered, and our will to reconnect fades with it.

Looking back at the pictures of the vine in my backyard, I’m drawn back to the fruit that held on with a broken stalk. The connection still existed, but at some point, the stalk broke and the fruit fell. What is left of the vine is slowly dying and soon, those bright flowers will no longer be a part of the scene as I look out my window.

Unlike the fruit, you and I can repair our connection to Christ. We can make the decision to reach up and out and find healing for our souls. We can choose to spend more time reading and praying.  We can decide to reconnect with those who are tethered to Him and draw strength and encouragement from them. We do not have to allow ourselves to be cut off and starved.

Deep within us exists the desire to remain in Him. We crave connectedness, not just to others but even more so to our Creator. He has built that into our DNA and it is not without reward. John 15:7 reminds us of the promise fulfilled for being tethered to Jesus: “But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted!” The joy we have in staying connected to Jesus results in fruit for others and ourselves through answered prayer. The closer we get to Him, the more our prayers align with His Word and His will and the more fruitful our lives will become.

What do you need to do to reconnect to the Vine? Reach for Jesus and you will encounter a peace that passes all understanding and the strength to endure all seasons.

One Tear At A Time

Some days are harder than others.  Some are even harder still.  Lately, there are more of the latter.  Putting it all into words is difficult.  All I know is that these days are full of tears.  

There was a time when I couldn’t cry.  The pain in my heart was so deep, it practically surpassed the place where my tears lived.  I wanted to cry, but I think I felt numb.  Sometimes, I wish I was numb once again. Crying takes a lot of energy (and makes my eyes puff up!)

I know I’m not the only one to bring my tears before God.  I can’t imagine the ocean of tears that is brought before Him on a daily basis.  But, as I write, I am reminded that how we bring our tears before God can determine how we move through the pain that causes them.

In Luke, Chapter 7, verses 36 through 50, we read about the woman who came and washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and wiped them away with her hair.  She then anointed him with the precious perfume of her alabaster jar.  The Pharisees were appalled, as they knew her only to be a sinful woman.  But, Jesus looked at her tearful offering to be one of pure love and adoration.  And, he said to her, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”(v. 50, NLT)

There is so much to unpack in the entire passage.  However, I’m feeling led to concentrate on the last verse.  I will reiterate it to help us really grasp a hold of its truth: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

First, let’s look at the woman’s offering.  She offered him not only her most prized, worldly possession, the perfume in the alabaster jar, but she offered him something even more precious – her tears.

The world often looks at weeping as a sign of weakness.  Even in our closest relationships, tears come when we are hurt, whether by word or deed.  Our tears come forth in times of physical pain, emotional trauma and even burn hot when we are angry.  Tears of joy seem to be rarer still, but if we consider this woman’s offering, we can see that her tears flowed from an incredible place deep within her soul.

Tears for the pain from the work that never seemed to end.  Tears for the wounded emotions resulting from her own choices and at the cruel words others had hurled at her.  Tears for the anger that raged within her as she listened to the world trying to define her.  Tears for the joy at meeting her Savior, and tears for the gratitude at hearing Him say, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

You and I shed tears for many of the same reasons.  Sometimes, we choose to let them fall, and at other times, we wish we could keep them hidden.  We must remember, however, that our tears are never hidden from God.  He actually values them!  

Psalm 56:8 says, “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book.” 

It’s an incredible thought, isn’t it?  Each tear we cry is precious to our Heavenly Father; so precious, in fact, that He collects and records every one.  

And, what does He do with them? He counts them as our faith offering and extends to us His peace in exchange.  

As hard as it is to fathom, when we cry out to God and we offer Him the substance of our tears, He shows us that we can come to Him with our burdens and exchange them for His peace.  Does He not tell us, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30, NLT)

Our tears represent our burdens, the things that weigh us down and keep us from moving forward.  Instead of offering my tears to Jesus, I have held on to them too tightly, bottling them up by the gallon.  It seems as if the more I cry, the more I hold on to the things my tears represent.  

But, that is not what I’m supposed to do with my tears. No matter what caused them to form, I am to run to the feet of Jesus and pour them out as an offering, exchanging the pain for the  peace and love of my Savior.  

I’m not saying this process is going be easy.  It takes faith to lay down your pain.  It takes faith to trust God for the exchange.  Even so, if I can give Him one tear at a time, that, my friend, will still be progress, for my sorrow will eventually become joy. 

“Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest.”(Psalm 126:5-6, NLT)