Bible, Christian, Encouragement, Faith, God, Habbakuk, righteousness, Spiritual, Uncategorized

Afraid of heights

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I’ve never thought I was particularly afraid of heights. For a good portion of my adult life I lived in the foothills of the Ouachita Mountains. While not one of its peaks makes the top 100 highest in the US, for a girl from southeast Texas it was still pretty impressive. State park areas offered vistas and overlooks from which you could take in the vastness and beauty that abounds. I loved driving the winding roads, stepping out on a flat rock jutting out over the edge, and taking it all in as if I were on the top of the world.

I recently read an article that said is not uncommon for a fear of heights to develop as you age. I haven’t had an opportunity to test the writer’s theory, haven’t visited any mountain peaks lately, but just thinking about going out on an unguarded boulder on the edge of a mountaintop (insert shiver) at this point in my life leads me to suspect this would be proven true of me. The facts upon which his theory is based have to do with our sense of balance and he states ‘As you get older, your organ of balance tends to deteriorate and you’re likely to feel more physically vulnerable.’*

I’m glad I have those physical mountaintop experiences even though I may not want to repeat them. I’m also glad for the time and vision God gave me when I was actually sitting on a mountain. And I wonder, in all the years before and since, how many times I’ve asked Him to take me higher, seeking the euphoria of His presence and the encouragement to face whatever may come. Whatever the number, it has only increased in the last few months. I’ve been asking for more. Yet it’s in this asking that He’s shown me I’ve become afraid of heights.

Oh, I’m not afraid of the euphoria, I want that excitement and delight! But He’s taken me to a new understanding of what it means to be given hinds’ feet, made able to walk on high places. Other than in the Psalms the only place hinds’ feet are mentioned is in Habbakuk.

Habbakuk lived in troubled times. He couldn’t understand why God allowed so much injustice to continue and he voiced his complaints and frustrations to Him. Then he waited for God to answer. (Note to self: this could be part of my problem…) And the Lord answered. God encouraged Habbakuk that eventually righteousness would reign again and his hope was restored. So Habbakuk began to recall the mighty works that God had done before, stirring up his own faith (another note to self), and ended with:

The Lord God is my Strength and personal bravery, and my invincible army; He makes my feet like hinds’ feet and will make me to walk – not stand still in terror, but to walk – and make spiritual progress upon my high places of trouble, suffering, and responsibility! (3:19)

It’s the responsibility part of going higher that’s troubling me, that gives me hesitation. As a young Christian the high places were always those quick answers to prayer, the learning, the growing, the seeing God do amazing things in my life, my family, my church. Exciting stuff! But now that I am older, I see the responsibility side of going higher as I never have, that high places are now more about others than myself. And I wonder if I have what it takes to bear the responsibility.

Living in troubled times (as we do) often makes it difficult to know exactly what our responsibilities are when it comes to living out our faith. Just how much are we to do for others? If you, like me and many others, have ever gotten trapped in an overload of the responsibilities for other people so much that it sucked the life out of you, you may, like me and many others, be afraid to step back out there. After caring for and ministering to evacuees of the hurricane a couple of years ago, the idea of caring for others in crisis gives me more than a little hesitation. It kinda freaks me out. I feel as if I’ve lost my balance and I’m vulnerable, not ready to let my heart go there again.

Even as Habbakuk remembered the power of God, he still trembled at the thought of all that would occur. So to encourage himself even if/when famine would strike, he remembered God would help him be stable and secure, just like the hind.

I love this description of the hind:

A hind is a female deer that can place her back feet exactly where her front feet stepped. Not one inch off! She is able to run with abandonment! In times of danger, she is able to run securely and not get “off track.” The hind is able to scale unusually difficult terrain and elude predators.**

I want to run with abandon. I want to throw off my fear of getting “off track” and run toward that next high place of responsibility. Taking sure footed steps of obedience as He leads me, making spiritual progress. Am I still afraid of going higher? Sure. But I’m reminding myself of all the amazing things God has done before and I’m more afraid of what I’ll miss if I don’t go.

Wanna go with me?

Afraid of heights” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

*Kevin Gournay, emeritus professor at the Institute of Psychiatry, King’s College London

**http://www.hishighplaces.org

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Christian, church, Encouragement, God, gospel, grace, Jesus, Spiritual, Uncategorized

Afraid of grace

I’ve been afraid of grace before. Mostly afraid that it was just too good to be true. Afraid it was for others who hadn’t made so many messes in life, but not for me. It took me a long time to get it but I finally did. Grace is mine. As mind-blowing as it is, the unrelenting favor of God rests on my life. Forever.

Jesus did that.

For me. For you. (If you haven’t yet done so, just say “yes” and take it!)

But that’s not really where I’m going with this today. I’ve been thinking about how hard it is for us to give grace sometimes. This is where we are often still afraid. Afraid that if we give undeserved favor to someone who’s messed up it will be wrongly interpreted. Afraid that it will appear we approve of sin. Afraid that our love and compassion toward someone suffering the consequences of their own actions will make light of the sin that caused it all.

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I’ve been thinking about the law and it’s purpose: to alter behaviors. That was the design and intent of the Old Testament law and all the many additional laws the religious leaders attached to the original list. The laws established through governments and nations are designed for the same thing – to give permission for behaviors/actions or to prevent them; important guidelines for civility among the masses.

But the law can’t change hearts.

If our outrage at sin has it’s roots in the demands of the law, biblical or the natural world rule of law, and that is our argument to try to affect change in our world, at best we can expect a few to change behaviors because we made them feel guilty. A temporary change. No doubt the presence of horrid sin in our world grips our hearts and often leaves us feeling helpless to do anything about it. And yes, it’s important that we participate in the things we can do to make our laws better. But they will still never be able to change hearts.

Jesus does that.

Passionately believing in the high standards Jesus laid out for behaviors and loving the worst-of-the-worst sinner are not contradictory actions. But we react as if we must choose one or the other. Rather than speak the truth in love we blast them with the law and hope they change behavior. And even if we manage to redirect a sinner from a particular wrong action by our accusations, it’s not enough. The heart remains unchanged.

For the remarkable, undeserved grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It (the grace of God) teaches us to reject ungodliness and worldly, immoral desires, and to live sensible, upright, and godly lives (lives with a purpose that reflect spiritual maturity) in this present age…  Titus 2:11-12

Truth. Truth is to be shared. The truth that the consequence of sin, ALL sin, is eternal death. The truth that sin leads to suffering. The truth that Jesus came to save us from the bondage of sin. ALL sin. But if we can’t share these truths from a heart of love for the very one who is bound in sin, we have missed the mark ourselves. We have sinned.

To be a loving speaker of truth is the goal. This requires the dying of self. Every. Single. Time. It’s not about my opinions. It’s not about my emotions. It is about obedience. It is when we take the magnificent grace given to us through Jesus and turn and give that very same grace to another that hearts are softened and they can find Him.

He’s the one who does the work of changing hearts. We can relax in that and remember that the greater joy is in the giving, not receiving. Give grace. Every. Single. Time.

“Afraid of grace” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Photo from https://conquerlife.net

Christian, church, death, Encouragement, Faith, God, loss, love, sorrow, Spiritual, tears, Uncategorized

We called you murderer

You-Murderer-Font-Horror-Font              I’m so sorry. We, who proudly proclaim the mercies and love of a good, good God presume to know your heart. We think if we shout our righteous indignation loudly enough from our imagined lofty place we will drown out the still small voice that says we are no different than you. We act as if it is impossible to passionately disagree with your choice while showing compassion for why you made it and loving you at the same time. We cry for your baby but not for you.

We call you selfish as we arrogantly stand in our own self-centeredness, thinking that Jesus didn’t really mean it when He said “everyone who hates his brother (or sister) is a murderer…” or “everyone who continues to be angry with his brother (or sister) or harbors malice, enmity of heart, against him (her) shall be liable and unable to escape the punishment imposed by the court…” Surely He didn’t mean us. We feign humility as we bring our gifts to the altar ignoring His words to make peace with any who have a grievance against us before we attempt to present a gift to Him. We have grieved you deeply.

I wish we had been there for you. I wish we had walked with you through the agony of your decision and shown you the true love of Jesus Christ no matter what direction you took. My heart breaks that we failed you, that you hide your hurt for fear we will only make it worse because it’s true – that’s so often exactly what we do. I wish we had held you and cried with you and let you know we love you. I wish we had been tender toward you as you struggled, remembering this world is full of trouble and none of us escape with hearts untouched by pain.

I applaud your courage to tell your story in the midst of rampant accusation. I needed to hear it. We the church, the body of Christ, need to hear it. We need to see you in the here and now as a person of worth and value, a living, breathing creation for whom the Father sent His Son to save. Just like us. We need to be reminded that God is not weighing our sins one against another. He is not comparing our righteousness or lack thereof because it’s all as filthy rags apart from Him. We are all in this same boat of humanity and we need Him and we need each other.

Your story brought me to my knees, ashamed of myself for not looking harder for you in my small part of this world, ashamed that I hadn’t considered how hard it was for you. Because you are here too. You have different names and different faces and different lives, but you are near if we will only open our eyes. As I bow my head, aware of my own life choices, I pray for us both. I pray we will both be healed and we will both raise our heads once again, unashamed in the presence of our Father. I pray we will live in the freedom of forgiveness – the forgiveness we receive and the forgiveness we give, even to our enemies. Even when the church seems like the enemy.

I am sorry.

We called you murderer” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Christian, Encouragement, Faith, family, God, grace, grief, Jesus, loss, love, mothers, peace, sorrow, Uncategorized

Finishing 2018

mom's quilt4

My mother was a quilter and this is one of the many, many quilts she made. In going through her things last year we discovered several quilts on which she had never finished the edges. They were pinned and basted and ready but never completed. I have a couple of theories:

#1 She didn’t like finishing the edges. For whatever reason, she enjoyed the cutting and piecing and quilting but not the last step of finishing. In comparison to the creativity of the previous efforts, finishing seemed tedious.

#2 She was a perfectionist (this is fact, not theory). However, I strongly suspect that these unfinished edges were a grade of sorts that the perfectionist in her gave to her own efforts, grades that were low enough to deem the project unworthy to be finished. Hours and hours of labor that didn’t measure up to the expectations she had of herself, doomed to be hidden away for years, never displayed.

mom's quilt5

She was always meticulous in her work but if we looked closely we could see the progression of her skills as we compared the treasures we found, the early ones with more markings as guide lines and only slightly unequal stitching. The later ones neared perfection, every stitch seemingly measured with impressive consistency. Works of art.

mom's quilt2

She went as far as to baste the edges. Basting stitches are intended to keep the edges in place until the finishing work is done then they are removed. Basting stitches don’t need to be evenly spaced or pretty or even in the correct color thread because they are temporary. They serve an important purpose but are not a part of the finished look.

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Now I’m finishing these quilts. I like the finishing part. I always have. Yet with as many projects that I have finished there’s still one thing that gives me grief every single time: corners. I know how to make them but I inherited my mother’s perfectionist tendencies and thus my increased frustration with the outcome. I find myself folding and tucking and pinning, unfolding, refolding, tucking some more and, well, you get the picture. But in the end the wrinkles and folds and tucks will settle in beneath the final stitches and the corners will look just right.

Kind of like finishing this year. 2017 was The Year of Difficulties. 2018 has been The Year of “In the Feels”. It’s been a roller coaster of emotions with speeds I hadn’t anticipated, both fast and slow, breathtaking drops that left me gasping for air, and now a slow approach to the end of this year’s ride. I’ve experienced an intensity and depth affecting my soul like no other time in my life. I felt like my heart got folded and tucked and pinned, unfolded, refolded, and tucked some more. You get the picture.

If I look closely at 2018 now I can see how I’ve progressed. But there were times throughout the year that all I felt I was doing was holding it together. It wasn’t pretty and I languished over my seeming lack of progress. Motivation was erratic and very unevenly spaced. Productivity was inconsistent with many days of just going through the motions. But these times were temporary, not intended to be a permanent part of the finished work.

It’s been a good year as God put things on hold while He took me step-by-irritatingly slow-step through facing the aftermath of the heartaches of the previous year. Dreams and plans were shelved while another lesson in resting took place: Healing can’t be rushed. And the process isn’t all sunshine and rainbows even though you know you’re on the right road. I would have much preferred God let me leave the difficulties hidden away in the closet of another year gone, never to be displayed. Instead, emotions swept in without warning, often at the most inopportune times, many most times leaving me embarrassed at my inability to completely control hide them. Like the inconsistent stitches of the beginning quilter, my steps through grief and brokenness didn’t look like what I wanted, didn’t measure up to the expectations I had of myself.

But here I am at the end of the year experiencing the ease of healing taking place, the self-forgiveness over unmet expectations, and the hope that comes with the turning of a simple calendar page. I know God is not doing what He does based on our measurement of time but there is something about a new year beginning that feels a lot like grace. A chance for a do-over. A chance to make changes. A chance to let go of mistakes. A chance to believe that a new year will bring new and better things.

I may think that 2018 didn’t look as good as I would have liked but I will finish it well. The lessons learned were worth the struggle and turn it into an eternal work of art. And those corners? The wrinkles and folds and tucks will settle in beneath these final stitches and they will look just right.

I pray you find the hope of Jesus Christ in the new year. Happy New Year!!

Finishing 2018” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Quilt by Sammy Stinnett, my mom.

 

Bible, Christian, Encouragement, Faith, God, Uncategorized

The promise of a reward

endurance

This was my beach vacation read. It’s not the usual relaxing kind of tale one might enjoy while lounging by the ocean, but it was actually quite interesting. You see, I’ve signed up to run a half marathon and I needed some encouragement that I would actually be able to do it! It worked. I found it quite informative and motivating, and full of training tips that I was sure I could implement. So I began to form my plan. It seemed so simple.

It actually is a simple plan but I’m finding it harder to implement than anticipated. The core principle is to run at a pace at which your heart rate will remain within the recommended beats per minute based on your age and fitness level. Once you’ve strengthened your aerobic system through this training method you’ll be able to run faster and increase distance while still maintaining a lower heart rate. I have a wonderful sports watch which tracks just about everything you can imagine and I set the format to monitor not only distance covered and time elapsed but heart rate also. Again, it seemed so simple.

Enlightened with the new information, I set out on my first run with a fresh focus: watch my heart rate. This proved to be quite challenging. Besides trying to remember that was the focus, the pace at which I was having to run seemed off. It was much slower than the pace I’d achieved and been able to maintain in the weeks prior. And while I had been able to run faster in those weeks, the recovery period lasted much longer because the runs would completely wipe me out.

One would think it would be easier to go slower. Not really. My body kept falling into the faster pace I’d established previously, then when I’d check my heart rate I’d have to slow down. This cycle repeated itself for miles. Nothing felt right about it, none the least of which was my bruised ego. I could almost walk as fast as I was “running”. It felt like a setback.

The struggle continued for weeks as I worked to establish some level of consistency. Most runs ended with a modicum of satisfaction from having completed a run, but precious little otherwise. I’ve wondered if signing up for the half marathon was such a good idea after all. I don’t really like this new training method, but I’m doing it because it promises a reward: greater endurance.

As He often does, God has turned this training time into much more than how fast I can run or a consistent heart rate. It’s no big secret that I’ve been frustrated for months, just ask my husband. I’ve blamed most of it on events of last year that were just hard. And they were. But God’s taken me deeper into the examination of the frustration to see that I’m still trying to get through life pushing myself to go harder and faster and do more, but it’s not working. He’s slowing me down, training me at a new pace, developing new patterns. I don’t really like it but I’m doing it because He promises a reward: greater endurance.

If genetics are a determining factor, I’m destined to live quite a few more years. I can’t expect to continue the unhealthy cycle of pushing myself to exhaustion then shutting down to recover if I expect to make it through the years ahead and actually enjoy them!  This year has been very much about self-care, finding healing for my soul, rediscovering hope, and committing (again) to faithful obedience – to follow Him, doing whatever He may ask, even if it means going slower. I want to finish my life well, like Paul – “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Tim 4:7) – and hope in the end to hear Him say “Well done.”

Oh, and my running performance? Going farther at a faster pace already. Half marathon, here I come!”

The promise of a reward” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

The Endurance Handbook and many other resources beneficial to health and fitness can be found at https://philmaffetone.com. Check it out!!

 

 

 

 

Uncategorized

Still getting oxygen

Airplane-oxygen-mask

My sister flew in for a visit early this summer. Our lunch conversation caught us up on all the latest which culminated in the shared experience that our lives are not what we thought they would be at this point. I often ask this question when speaking to groups – “How many of you are doing what you thought you’d be doing at this point in your life?” And each time I ask I see only one or two hands raise. Life happens. But not as we expected.

While our lives are different, my sibling and I currently share the same frustration of inactivity. Oh, we are busy with stuff. It’s just not the stuff we wanted to be busy with, thought we would be busy with, and feel guilty that we are not busy with. We’ve spent our passions going through life full-throttle, and now we’re not.

As we commiserated the discomfort of being still, she shared with me a simple observation she made during the flight attendant’s safety speech. Here’s a portion of a standard speech:

“Place the mask over both your mouth and nose and secure with the elastic band as your Flight Attendant is demonstrating. Tighten by pulling on the ends of the elastic bands. Even though oxygen is flowing, the plastic bag may not inflate.”

Neither of us see the plans and dreams we had for our lives inflating at this point. And just like nervous flight passengers, there is a sense of panic that arises when we can’t see the bag inflate! But the assurance is that we are still getting oxygen. And that’s what’s important. God is still God and His timing is perfect. He has not left us without exactly what we need during this season, His breath in our lungs.

As I read through the safety speech to find the above I noticed the two sentences just before:

“Reach up and pull the mask to your face. This action will start the flow of oxygen.”

Reach up. This starts the flow of oxygen. Hmmm.

I can’t tell you how many times this summer I’ve said to myself “I’m still getting oxygen.” It was a timely word for me, and maybe for you as well.

Reach up and just breathe.

I’ve been pondering this for weeks. As I write today and prepare to post, my friend is quite literally fighting to breathe. It’s a long story that perhaps one day I will tell, but today I will simply ask you to pray for the miracle of oxygen saturation in her lungs. She is precious to me and much more so to God. She needs to know the miracle of getting enough oxygen. Join me as I sing this praise to God and over her.

 

Still getting oxygen” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Safety speech excerpts taken from http://www.airlineannouncement.com/

Bible, Christian, Encouragement, Faith, God, sorrow, Spiritual, Uncategorized

times of refreshing

If only it were as easy as one click.

refresh-animated   https://kayslife

…so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, restoring you like a cool wind on a hot day…

But here I am, still processing.

Image result for processing gifI knew that healing and restoration would take time and I began the new year with plans to slow down and let it take place. But I didn’t think it would take this long. I didn’t think it would be this hard. I didn’t know it would bring my soul to a complete stall. I looked up the definition of stall: …stop running, typically because of an overload… Yeah, that just about sums it up.

I’m thinking today of the Israelites of old and how it must have been when the prophets had nothing to prophecy because God was silent. Normally, I don’t mind silence. Perhaps this time is to take me into a deeper level of listening. It is definitely a season where standing in faith has taken me to new depths. What did the Israelites do during those silent years? They kept on doing what they were doing the last time He spoke. Or they didn’t. I can understand how at times they strayed from their faith, feeling God was too distant, uncaring toward their struggles, desperate to hear His words of deliverance. I’m tempted often to throw that pity party.

It’s not that I haven’t heard Him speak. I have. But I am longing to hear something more than “be still” or “not yet”. I want “…and suddenly a sound came from heaven like a rushing violent wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting…” to shake things up a bit.

Normally, I don’t mind getting permission to take it easy either. For a little while. Being highly achievement motivated, however, makes this longer-than-anticipated season a struggle. I’ve started running again which is good and gives me momentary satisfaction in accomplishments. But I can’t outrun the sorrow that still weighs on my heart. Many days it still clouds my vision and drains my energies and I just want to move on.

There was no rush to the morning so I sat on the balcony in the sultry air to watch the sun rise above the trees and read my devotional. It began “Come to Me, My weary one…” and ended with this –

“I want you to know that I approve of you and I approve of rest. When you relax in My Presence, trusting in my finished work on the cross, both you and I are refreshed.”

And there He was, like a cool wind on a hot day, refreshing me with His Presence and His promise that more times of refreshing are coming. I hope you found refreshment in His Presence today, too.

 

times of refreshing” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Scripture references: Acts 3:20, 2:2, Matt 11:28

Devotional excerpt from Jesus Always by Sarah Young