Category: Change

Following in Faith

I’m the world’s worst when it comes to directions. I get lost easily and panic when I find myself in unfamiliar surroundings. Today is Epiphany, so it’s fitting that God would bid me to head home in a different direction. He knows how hard it is for me to change direction, and we both know it’s because I let fear get the best of me. Matthew 2 has been in my path for the past few weeks, but it took on new meaning yesterday.

“On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure-chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.” (NRSV)

2015 was filled with changes in direction that left me reeling and feeling lost. The problem, as always, was in trying to find my way instead of yielding to God’s. The Magi traveled a great distance to see the Messiah; whether they were from Prussia or some other exotic location, their journey was a long and difficult one filled with the unfamiliar.

When God warned them not to go back to Herod, they willingly changed direction. I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to do what they did. They knew the importance of pleasing the ruler of the region, but they listened to God and ignored Herod. It was customary to bring gifts and show respect for kings when traveling to or through their kingdoms, so they were doing much more than changing their travel plans. They risked insulting the reigning king because they knew Christ was a new kind of king. Some folks are insulted when you change direction, and that has been the most difficult lesson of late. I worry far too much about what others think, and that gets in God’s way. Following God may mean disappointing others, and that’s more uncomfortable than heading down an unknown road.

If the Wise Men had ignored God’s warning and done what was expected of them, God would have found another way to protect His Son. He didn’t need them, and He doesn’t need me to carry out His plans. He lets me participate so I’ll learn and grow nearer to Him. I don’t always listen, so I miss important lessons. I prefer the safety of the familiar, but God’s lesson this week has been that safety is only an illusion. The safest road is the one He is on even though it is seldom the most familiar. Faith is trusting God even when others insist they know what I should do. Epiphany is seeing the light of Christ’s precious love and having the courage to follow it in faith.

 

 

Heartburn and Heartbreak

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I think that’s a lot of sexist nonsense; but God did manage to get to my heart through my stomach this week, so maybe there is something to the old saw.

I’ve suffered from acid reflux for three months, and it’s driven me to distraction. The nagging burn of stomach acid in my throat was becoming common place because I opted to eat what I wanted to eat, carry antacids around with me, and accept the burning as my new normal.

My father used to tell me that I was born hungry and would die hungry. I told him I planned to eat as much as I could in between. I was born prematurely and couldn’t nurse or suck a bottle, so mama cut a hole in the nipple of a bottle and let the formula flow into my mouth a few drops at a time. She was afraid I would choke, so the process took forever. According to daddy, she fed me every five minutes. He attributed her obsession with feeding with my obsession with eating. That theory made perfect sense because I turned to food when I was hurting, and I ate all the time.

Weight was never a problem when I was growing up. I was tiny in elementary school and stayed a constant 110 pounds throughout high school and college. I ate heartily, five meals most days. The first time I gained a lot of weight was when I was pregnant with my son, but most of that came off as soon as I got home. My sweet son filled a void that needed filling, so I put all my energy into loving him. In my forties, a slower metabolism and a broken heart took a terrible toll on my heart. I couldn’t keep up any more. In fact, I didn’t want to keep up any more.

My heart’s hunger has always been greater than my stomach’s desire to be filled; so when the two pains merged, food became my drug of choice. I cooked and served and pretended all was well. Mama taught me much more than how to cook. Her death left my heart in a lurch I’ve been trying to crawl out of for six years. I gained twenty-two pounds trying to recreate the comfort of her unconditional love. The more I tried, the more I failed. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I kept on doing it because I couldn’t face the truth.

Thanking God for acid reflux may sound bizarre, but that’s exactly what I found myself doing yesterday. If you’ve ever had acid reflux, you know it will not be ignored. It’s been nagging me unmercifully for three months, and I finally had enough on Tuesday.

I love researching, so I took to the internet to find answers. I was tired of hurting and ready to change my ways. I found a list of foods that cured and a list of foods that caused acid reflux and decided to give it a try. On Wednesday, I ate only foods that cured and avoided all foods that caused. I couldn’t believe the difference and kicked myself for waiting so long to do the right thing.

God used my relief to remind me that my heart needed relief as well. It had been broken for a very long time and it was affecting my health and my happiness. I took a hard look at my heart habits and realized I had some changes to make. No one knows my heart better than God, so I turned to Him for answers.

It isn’t easy to give up what I want. I missed having coffee, chocolate, and cheese on Wednesday, but I did not miss the terrible burning that came with their consumption. It is human nature to want what isn’t good for me, but God showed me that what He wants for me is so much better than what I want for myself. His lists for living aren’t designed to punish or deny; they are designed with a full heart in mind.

My heart and belly have been full of good things for the past two days, and I’ve lost a pound in the process. I wasn’t thinking about my weight on Wednesday. I simply wanted the pain to stop. God showed me that doing the right thing is the simple solution for both heartburn and heartbreak.

I had to laugh when I thought of Paul in Romans 7:19 last night. I decided to eat a little chocolate before heading to bed, and I immediately regretted that decision.

“For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want.”

Maybe writing that little verse a few hundred times will help me remember to stick to the good list when it comes to my tummy and my heart 🙂

 

 

 

 

Still Waters

God woke me this morning with the image of a mountain spring and Psalm 23. Those who know me well, know how much I love David’s beautiful poem. No scripture touches my heart the way it does, and it beautifully describes the transforming power of His lessons this week.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. (KJV)

The line that touched my heart and soul this morning was “he leaded me beside the still waters.” The waters in my life have been anything but still, so I’ve yearned for the peaceful waters described in verse two. With a lot of trust and a little fear, I let go of my will and gave God the reigns to my heart. I’ve surrendered bits and pieces before, but this was a complete letting go that left me completely at His mercy.

I grew up thinking God was a powerful reckoning force full of fury, and that’s why there was a little fear in my letting go. Love has always held an element of fear for me, and God knew that was holding my heart back and keeping me from loving as He desires. I finally found the courage, with the help of a dear friend, to trust God completely. I wasn’t prepared for what happened because I was expecting the usual hurt to be unusually painful. I wasn’t expecting peace in place of the pain, but that’s exactly what I felt as God led me beside the still waters and bid me to drink deeply and relax completely.

A wise friend once told me that relaxing into obedience was the best way to obey. That didn’t sink in completely then, but it did this morning as I found myself waking up beside a cool, sweet spring of living water. I can’t remember ever feeling so relaxed in my life.

My early life was spent drowning in muddy waters. Confusion and despair kept my heart from finding my way out. I went from the lake into a stormy sea and spent three decades fighting waves in troubling waters. When God finally brought me to the shore, I made my way up an inviting creek that proved to be frigid when I mustered up the courage to venture in. I decided to stay away from the water after that, but God had other plans. He led me beside the deep waters of a still mountain spring. Confused and curious by this new connection to water, I created a muddy mess by playing in it instead of sitting still and drinking deeply.

I love the way God teaches, and this morning was classic God as He reminded me of a time over fifty years ago when I stirred up my aunt’s spring and learned a difficult lesson from daddy. My mother’s oldest sister was named Edith, and she and her husband Dave lived far back in the mountains of Western North Carolina. Upon arriving, daddy sent my sisters and I to fetch some fresh water from her spring.The first thing daddy wanted after finishing the treacherous trek up the mountain was a cup of that precious water to go with his bourbon.

Edith and Dave didn’t have running water or electricity, but they did have a well right behind the house. That water was wonderful, but it didn’t compare to the water from the spring further up the mountain. My sisters and I were ready to move after the long trip, so we headed off in search of the spring. I got their first and took the ladle Aunt Edith had given me and started playing in the water. If you know me, that makes perfect sense.

When we returned to the cabin with a pail of muddy water, my father’s wrath was intense. He knew I was stupid, but could I possibly be that stupid!! It would take hours for the dirt to settle, so he would have to settle for well water. I slipped outside and asked myself the same question he had asked of me. I came up with the same answer I always came up with. I must be that stupid because the evidence kept pointing in that direction. I was feeling the same sense of stupidity a few weeks ago as I struggled with the stirring I was doing in my heart.

God always hears my heart, and He always answers my prayers in ways I never understand. Like that stirred spring, it took a while for my heart to settle into a state of sweet peace; but the resulting cleansing was even more amazing than that mountain spring when I returned later to fetch its water in the proper way. The murky mess I made was replaced with a crystal clear oasis waiting to quench my powerful thirst. My heart was like Aunt Edith’s spring this morning as I relaxed into an obedience that wasn’t motivated by guilt or fear; it came straight from Christ’s precious love, and that’s exactly where obedience is supposed to come from. Maybe, I’m not so stupid after all 🙂

A Mess of Pottage

“A mess of pottage” refers to something that may be very desirable in the moment, but is of little value when taken in exchange for something less tangible but of immense value. It refers to Esau trading his birthright for a pot of lentil stew in Genesis 25:27-35.

When the boys grew up, Esau became a skillful hunter, a man of the field, but Jacob was a peaceful man, living in tents. Now Isaac loved Esau, because he had a taste for game, but Rebekah loved Jacob. When Jacob had cooked stew, Esau came in from the field and he was famished; and Esau said to Jacob, “Please let me have a swallow of that red stuff there, for I am famished.” Therefore his name was called Edom. But Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.” Esau said, “Behold, I am about to die; so of what use then is the birthright to me?” And Jacob said, “First swear to me”; so he swore to him, and sold his birthright to Jacob. Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew; and he ate and drank, and rose and went on his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright. (NASB)

Trading one’s birthright for a pot of stew may seem farfetched, but we all misplace priorities at one time or another. Shortsightedness occurs when that for which I hunger is right in front of me. The present presents temptations difficult to resist at times. A dear friend heard my heart and used the mess of pottage reference to help me get my priorities in order. I haven’t heard that expression in decades, but it rang true in my heart as soon as I heard it this week.

Having friends who hear my heart and love God is a blessing I cannot imagine living without. I was at the point of trading a beautiful friendship for a mess of pottage, but God placed Esau’s stew in my path to help me see the folly of such a trade.

Walking in God’s kingdom now is a new concept for me. I smile and shake my head when I think of the number of times I said the Lord’s Prayer without seeing the kingdom as here and now. Christ clearly says “on earth as it is in heaven.” (NASB Matthew 6:9-13)  It is sobering to realize how easy it is to trade a walk in God’s kingdom for a jaunt down my own path. A mess of pottage is all it takes to lose any birthright.

The phrase also reminded me of a beautiful poem I haven’t read in years, “Touch of the Master’s Hand” by Myra Brooks Welch. The phrase is used powerfully in the last verse of the poem.

‘Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
      Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
      But held it up with a smile.
“What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried,
    “Who’ll start the bidding for me?”
“A dollar, a dollar. Then two! Only two?
      Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?”

“Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
      Going for three…” But no,
From the room, far back, a grey-haired man
      Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the dust from the old violin,
      And tightening the loosened strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet,
      As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
      With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: “What am I bid for the old violin?”
      And he held it up with the bow.
“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?
      Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?
Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice,
    And going and gone,” said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,
    “We do not quite understand.
What changed its worth?” Swift came the reply:
    “The touch of the Master’s hand.”
And many a man with life out of tune,
      And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd
      Much like the old violin.

A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine,
    A game — and he travels on.
He is “going” once, and “going” twice,
    He’s “going” and almost “gone.”
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
    Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
    By the touch of the Master’s hand.

The lesson this week was that I am more than I can imagine myself to be. Like the old violin, I have seen myself as battered and scarred; but the touch of God’s hand changed that. God is love, and love is what His kingdom is all about. I tend to sell myself short, but this week I decided to let God play a new tune on my heart. I want the birthright He has for me, and that means seeing myself in His light. I can’t do that on my own, but I can do it if I relax in His hands and trust Him to do what He does best.

Who Are My Gentiles?

In Ephesians 3, Paul addresses Gentiles in a manner they are not accustomed to being addressed. A man who persecuted Christians before his conversion and had great disdain for Gentiles is now calling them fellow heirs, fellow members of the body, and fellow partakers of the promise of Christ Jesus. His passion for Christ and his desire to bring the message of salvation to all is proof of God’s transforming love. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the same could be said of all who claim to know Christ. Unfortunately, His simple message of love isn’t always absorbed deeply enough to allow us to love as He desires.

Christ’s precious love breaks down the barriers which divide my  heart. But before that can happen, I must admit there is division and ask myself, “Who are my Gentiles?” God knows the answer but knows I must come to that truth on my own. Neighbors, enemies, and those who aren’t “like me” are included in God’s kingdom. Knowing my neighbors and recognizing my enemies is easy, but identifying my Gentiles is more difficult because it reveals my judgment of others and exposes my prejudice.

Searching for truth is a tricky business that seldom leads to answers I want to hear, but with the help of the Holy Spirit, I can handle the truth. Division comes from many sources, but only love can make unity possible. Paul’s plea in Ephesians 3 is for such unity.

“For this reason I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for the sake of you Gentiles— if indeed you have heard of the stewardship of God’s grace which was given to me for you; that by revelation there was made known to me the mystery, as I wrote before in brief. By referring to this, when you read you can understand my insight into the mystery of Christ, which in other generations was not made known to the sons of men, as it has now been revealed to His holy apostles and prophets in the Spirit; to be specific, that the Gentiles are fellow heirs and fellow members of the body, and fellow partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel, of which I was made a minister, according to the gift of God’s grace which was given to me according to the working of His power. To me, the very least of all saints, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unfathomable riches of Christ and to bring to light what is the administration of the mystery which for ages has been hidden in God who created all things; so that the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known through the church to the rulers and the authorities in the heavenly places. This was in accordance with the eternal purpose which He carried out in Christ Jesus our Lord, in whom we have boldness and confident access through faith in Him. Therefore I ask you not to lose heart at my tribulations on your behalf, for they are your glory.”

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God.

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen. (NASB)

Paul’s love for God enabled him to admit and forget about divisions so he could reach out to those he once hated. God will enable the same in me when I stop seeing others as other than and start seeing them as part of God’s kingdom. At a time when hearts have never been more polarized, it is vital to God’s kingdom to let Paul’s plea change our hearts.

Love is a beautiful mystery not meant to be understood. It must simply be embraced, but I cannot embrace it until I identify and love the Gentiles in my life. Then, like Paul, I can reach beyond my judgments and let God have His way with my heart. Ghandi encouraged us to be the change we wish to see in the world. I can think of no better way to do that than identifying my Gentiles and letting the Holy Spirit tear down the walls of division in my own heart.

As a Child

God formed the body of Christ from His deep love for His children, and they have been trying to recreate it ever since. Intentions are good, but they don’t always lead in a positive direction. Peter had the same intentions in Matthew 17:4.

“Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here; if You wish, I will make three tabernacles here, one for You, and one for Moses, and one for Elijah.'” (NASB)

Our love for Christ makes us want to do something or create something that will show Him how very much we love Him. I’m sure He appreciates the efforts, but I’m also sure He wonders at where we get the notion it’s what He desires. Christ was crystal clear when it came to His desire, but His simple message of love gets lost in ornate organizations and messy erections built to honor Him. Whether we build a cathedral or put up a tent, it is still our design. There are 33,000+ Christian denominations in 238 countries. (World Christian Encyclopedia) All are trying to get it right, and I admire their determination. I understand Peter’s desire to build something for Jesus and want to do the same.

I’ve attended seven churches from five different denominations. All offered a place to learn and love, and I grew in each. I’m thankful for my experiences and still have friends from all seven. The pope’s visit last week made me think about church. I haven’t been in an organized church for four months, and it has been very uncomfortable for me. It is difficult not to feel guilty because all of my experiences with church have fostered guilt in me. I do not blame them for that because the guilt was instilled in my heart long before I attended any of them.

The Catholic church is known for its beautiful cathedrals, and seeing the splendor wowed me more than once as I followed the coverage of the pope’s visit. I was struck by Pope Francis because he seemed to be a very simple man surrounded splendor and extravagance. His simple messages and sweet gestures showed a man trying to live out the lessons in love that Jesus still teaches, but the pomp and circumstance buried him at times. I cannot imagine Jesus being comfortable in that setting, but I also cannot imagine Him being comfortable in many of the churches we have built for Him. Agendas, boards, meetings, committees, and all else that go with an institution get in the way of His simple message of love.

My experience has been varied when it comes to churches and denominations, but the same desire to serve has been at the heart of each. That desire gets twisted and turned by those who have the need to control either quietly in the background or obviously in the forefront. The building becomes important. It can’t be too fancy, or it must be as ornate as possible. Programs, visions, mission statements, and agendas take on a life of their own. Both ends of the spectrum share the goal of reaching out to others to spread the gospel, and I admire those who persevere; but I’ve been torn and worn out trying to find my way to the center over the years.  Perhaps there isn’t one, and that’s okay. I know Who is at the center of my worship, and that’s all that matters.

I love the body of Christ, and I know Jesus loves it too. People are imperfect, and no one would say amen more quickly to that statement than Peter himself. We are all in the process of transformation, and I am thankful for the learning, living, listening, and loving I found in each of the churches I’ve attended. I’m also thankful for this time of transition because it is an important part of the transformation God has in mind for my heart. I wanted the church to meet my needs, and I believe that is what most people want. I felt so alone and lost four months ago, but God has been faithful to fill the void in ways I could never have imagined.

I’ve had more time for Him lately, and that’s been a beautiful blessing. Like a couple who never find time for one another until they go away, God and I have renewed our vows in a sweet and powerful way during this time together. He is always sitting at the center with His Son, and His Holy Spirit helped me find my way back to where this journey began fifty years ago. That has been a beautiful blessing.

God’s kingdom is more suited to children, and that has been a powerful part of the learning this week. I’m beginning a study of Mark 10, and verses 13-16 helped me understand a powerful truth.

“And they were bringing children to Him so that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw this, He was indignant and said to them, ‘Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.’ And He took them in His arms and began blessing them, laying His hands on them.” (NASB)

Paul J. Nuechterlein’s sermon, “A Heart-Warming Text,” gave a new perspective on those verses and helped me see that seeing others as my sisters and brothers and loving as a little child changes the very nature of all my relationships, including the one I have with Christ.

“Entering God’s kingdom as a little child means that Jesus offers us freedom from relationships that ensnare us and harden our hearts. He instead offers us the choice to relate to one another as beloved children of one loving God. It’s a new way of relationships, of new and abundant life.” (October 8, 2006)

Mark 10 is not always used in a heart-warming way, but God showed me this week that His Word is always meant to warm the heart. It’s the only way to soften those hardened by the relationships to which Nuechterlien refers. God never ceases to amaze me when it comes to knowing what I need just when I need it, but then He reminds me to remember Who He is and how He feels about me. Then, it makes perfect sense.

The Narrow Gate

Matthew 7:13-14 describes the way to a life in God’s presence. There are various interpretations of these verses, most having to do with exclusion. I believe they simply mean we must all come into God’s presence individually. That means stepping away from the crowd.

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it. For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.” (NASB)

A crowd cannot pass through the entrance described in Matthew. Groups are great, and I love the sense of belonging I get from them; but my relationship with God is personal. I can’t depend upon a church, a denomination, a team, my family, or my friends to replace my relationship with God. Christ came so we could all have an intimate relationship with God, the Father. That humbles and makes us want to disappear into a crowd. Intimacy is intimidating in human relationships, so it’s understandable that many run from intimacy with The Creator. A group date is easier than a candlelight dinner for two, so many miss out on the relationship and the gate.

Families foster love and give the grounding we need when they are healthy, but they can also be our most painful source of disconnection. Corporate worship brings harmony when those present are in one accord, but it creates discord when they aren’t. No group is perfect, and that includes God’s family. We are all broken, and that will not change until we walk through that narrow gate and meet him face-to-face. The gate is not for groups, and groups cannot decide who gets to walk through the gate. It was forged by a love unlike anything we can imagine. A love designed for all, but not accepted by all. The narrowness of the gate is uncomfortable for some, so they choose the wide berth and imagined comfort of a familiar group.

Groups appear to offer protection and safety, but they rarely do. That is especially true when it comes to religion and politics. The need to win, be the best, or be right cause an unhealthy fusion that forces many to stay on the wide path. I hate election years because the divisions seem to get uglier and uglier, but perhaps I’m just paying more attention as I get older. Lines are darker and deeper, and the stakes are higher than ever. So, we choose sides and battle it out or sit on the sidelines and settle into a seething silence. Sadly, the same thing is happening with religion.

Oneness is at the heart of God’s Word, yet the scriptures divide us more than any political campaign can. How it must grieve God to see His children fighting over His Word. The need to be right is at the heart of division. It begins in the family unit, grows in heart, and reaches out into the community. Christ offered a beautiful solution when He took it upon Himself to breach the divide between God and His children. His unconditional, sacrificial love creates a path to a gate that is open and ready when we are willing to step away from the crowd and enter in.

Fate or Dead Weight?

I’ve gained twelve pounds over the past two years, and I’m afraid I am slowing growing accustomed to the extra weight. Change, like weight, can come gradually or occur in an instant. Either way, it comes, and I must decide what to do about it. The lessons last week were about lightening the load on my heart, and that is proving to be much more difficult than shedding a few pounds.

My heart gains and carries excess weight just as my body and can accept the extra burden or get rid of it. The former is far easier, so my heart has grown heavier and heavier as a result of a lifetime of bad choices. Bad choices made for me during my childhood led to bad choices I made on my own. I bought into the lies that formed the foundation of those choices, and the cycle caused my heart to accept the heavy weight as its fate. I was meant to be hurt, and there was nothing I could do about it. I should accept the burden and grow in the suffering. It’s okay. It’s not as bad as it could be. Whatever ridiculous response I had, they all reflected the truth etched on my heart. I was not worthy of love.

The lessons this summer have been particularly hard because God took me out of my comfort zones and left me feeling exposed. He’s used the weight I gained in the past two years to help me see the weight that has been accumulating in my heart for decades. He lovingly showed me that the weight on my heart was far worse those extra pounds on my body. No amount of dieting or physical activity was going to make a difference if I didn’t deal with the load on my heart.

When hearts and bodies give up, they settle. When they settle, they become sedentary. When they become sedentary, dead weight accrues. The cycle is the same for the heart. Growing accustomed to the weight leads to accepting it as fate, and that is fatal for the heart and the body. My heart and body have been in a terrible state of acceptance over the past four months, and their settling has unsettled me. When I’m unsettled, I do my best to cover it up. I’ve never had a problem covering up pain. My mama taught me at an early age to put a happy face on a broken heart. It is the surest sign of giving up.

Giving up is a choice, and fate is about not having a choice at all. Both offer an easy way out, but God offers something more. He gives me the right to choose and loves me no matter what choice I make. He takes my bad choices and turns them into lessons. He knows that choice and love must go hand in hand. He also knows that making the wrong choices is part of the journey. I have made more than my share of bad choices when it comes to my heart, and the brokenness has given me compassion.

When my heart comes to a crossroad, it can continue along the same path or make a turn. The choice is, and always will be, mine to make. God is at every turn, but He will not force me to go in the direction He knows is best for my heart. He will only get involved if I ask for help. Asking God means admitting I need help, and that has never been easy for me because I’ve always seen myself as beyond help or deserving the hurt.

The world tells me to be strong and make my own way. Live with my mistakes. Don’t get my hopes up. God tells me that He is my hope and strength. He bids me to let His Spirit deal with burdens I cannot handle alone. My heart and body are not designed to carry excess weight, and that weight will numb or kill if left unattended. Sometimes, I come to a place of decision after an epiphany. Sometimes, there is a straw that breaks my back. More often, choice comes in a still moment of surrender. That’s what happened this morning when I looked into the heart of One Who loves me the way He wants me to be loved and saw myself with His eyes. That put choice in a whole new Light. Jesus says it best in Matthew 11:30:

“My yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (NASB)

All Tensed Up!

Fear

Anchored in my past.

Analyzing my present.

Agonizing over my future.

Love

Accepting my past.

At peace in my present.

Anticipating my future.

Heart in the Sand

It’s Fitting!!

I took care of my two granddaughters while my daughter-in-law was on a mission trip to Costa Rica. I loved having the opportunity to spend quality time with them and my son. Keeping up with two very energetic little girls wasn’t easy, but it was a lot of fun. I felt ten years younger after ten days and noticed my clothes were fitting differently.

There’s nothing better than clothes that fit well, and that is especially true for me because I absolutely hate wearing them!! Little Mylah is the same way, so getting her ready to go somewhere is like moderating a political debate. She won’t wear anything that doesn’t fit perfectly, and she’s a diva when it comes to the way she looks. I learned to just leave her alone, let her go through the painful process, and pick up all the clothes on the floor afterward.

God used the girls to teach many lessons last week, and one was about the importance of a proper fit. I’ve gained twelve pounds in the past two and a half years because I turned to food to fill a space that food cannot fill. The result was a closet full of uncomfortably tight clothing. I wore yoga pants and comfortable shirts while watching the girls because I had a lot to manage and didn’t want to have to worry about clothes.

When I got home and had time to breathe, I stepped on the scales and couldn’t believe I had lost four pounds. I got the tape measure out to make sure my scales were not broken and was even more surprised to learn that I had lost seven inches!!

Clothing was not the only thing not fitting lately, so God used the girls to teach a fitting lesson. I’ve struggled throughout my adult life with corporate worship. Some places were too tight, and some were too loose. Nothing seemed to suit or fit my spiritual needs. Trying to find the right fit left me frustrated and ready to quit.

A perfect fit is virtually impossible to find when it comes to clothes, but I do have outfits that feel wonderful and look great. I feel great when I wear them, so I can relate to Mylah’s struggle with clothing. Only God knows the perfect fit for my heart, and He showed me how it felt this week. On Tuesday, I shared communion with dear friends and knew I was right where I needed to be. It was a feeling far better than finding that perfect outfit.

Walking in God’s kingdom is about being where He wants me to be. He knows His kingdom is the perfect fit for my heart; and  He knows that once I feel its fit, I won’t settle for anything less.

Philippians 2:1-2 is a beautiful scripture that describes the perfect fit God has in mind. I think I’ll put it on my closet door 🙂

“Therefore if there is any encouragement in Christ, if there is any consolation of love, if there is any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and compassion, make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose.” (NASB)

It's Fitting