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There are victories to be won

 

heart of hands

Where do I begin? The events of the last two weeks have rocked our world again. Emotions have driven hasty words, hurtful words, divisive words, all in a desperate attempt to cast blame because surely if we can point a finger at the culprits we will feel better. We will feel as if we have affected change. But is that the kind of change we really want? To step into the battle blindly believing that anger will stop anger, hate will stop hate?

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”  John 16:33

 We have been called to a maturity that requires we lay down our opinions and surrender our emotions to the One Who has called us to greater love. Loving our enemies wasn’t a suggestion. It was an expectation that if we call ourselves His children this would be how we show it to be true. This would be the only way we turn the hearts of our enemies – overcoming evil with good (Romans 12:21).

“But I say to you, love [that is, unselfishly seek the best or higher good for] your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may [show yourselves to] be the children of your Father who is in heaven; You, therefore, will be perfect [growing into spiritual maturity both in mind and character, actively integrating godly values into your daily life], as your heavenly Father is perfect.  Matthew 5:43, 48

The emotions are raw and intense and conflicting and disturbing. Anger and frustration and sorrow and grief. And fear. FEAR. All whirling so violently in our souls that it seems they cannot, should not be contained. To feel so passionately about injustice surely must be the indication that we speak, no, SHOUT our views and if we shout loudly enough surely we will feel better. Surely someone will listen. Surely the madness will stop. Surely once released our souls will be quieted.

But this is the moment we must stop and turn the fierceness of those emotions into passionate prayer. We must retreat into the secret place wanting only what HE wants, saying only what HE says, doing ONLY what He says to do for everything else will be wood, hay, and stubble. It will not endure. It will not affect real change. It will not win the lost. And that remains our mission – to be led by His Spirit to be His heart, His hands, and His feet that take His love to EVERYONE.

He that dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty – Whose power no foe can withstand.  Psalm 91:1

Does it mean we don’t have good conversations in order to find understanding and work toward unity? Absolutely not! But good conversations rarely begin with verbal assaults or fingers pointed in blame. 

Should we protest? Should we post on social media? Should we bare our heartbreak through videos? Should we sit silent? These are questions that can only be answered in each and every Christian’s secret place with God. Will He lead us all to do the same thing? No. We each have a role to play in representing Him to the world and once committed to the pursuit of our individual purposes we can no longer play the comparison game amongst ourselves. Hearing the voice of God in the secret place is where we find the peace Jesus died to give us and nothing can take it away. Hearing the voice of God in the secret place is the first of the victories to be won.

We must stand for those oppressed. ALL who are oppressed. We do not choose sides. We do not take it upon ourselves to deem one worthy of His love and mercy and another condemned without hope. That is not our call. Our call is to obey. Whatever He says. No matter what anyone else thinks or says.

But the LORD reigns forever, executing judgment from his throne. He will judge the world with justice and rule the nations with fairness. The LORD is a shelter for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. Those who know your name trust in you, for you, O LORD, do not abandon those who search for you.  Psalm 9:7-10 

As I pray for the angry and the violent, the grieving and the lost, and for His children to be His shelter for these the oppressed, I pray for you “Peace”. Not as the world gives but as Jesus gives. For we simply cannot give away what we do not have.

There are victories to be won” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Photo by Just Wild About Teaching

 

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When meeting with God leaves you limping

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I’ve had a great deal on my mind lately. Nothing particularly eventful has occurred but my mind has been full of almost more than I can handle. I’ve written blogs on a couple of ideas that are whirling around in there, but one seems a little lame and the other a bit angry…neither of which has prompted me to hit “publish”.

Truth is, I’ve been wrestling a bit. Not the kind of faith-in-crisis wrestling that I’ve done in the past, but more of a faith-in-expansion kind of wrestling. The more I press into God, the more questions I have and the more answers I await. And while I would much prefer that God and I have a simple I ask a question and He answers kind of dialogue, this uncomfortable reaching and stretching and waiting is good. I am daring to exercise my faith in areas previously believed to be off-limits.

We are exhorted to come boldly before the throne of God and I feel as if there is nothing bolder to present in His presence than the questions we have. Especially the really hard questions. He has no fear or irritation at our asking. He holds every answer and is a good Father Who is patient and kind. But perhaps you feel as I did that our questioning presents a lack of faith. I now believe it to be the very opposite – to go fearlessly to our Father with great expectations that He will answer is to have great faith.

My thoughts have settled on Jacob this week and His wrestling with God. Different translations mention a Man or an Angel of the Lord.  Not to get ahead of myself but the new name he was given has a meaning of God-wrestler.  

This passage in Genesis 32 is so interesting. Jacob had done his brother wrong. They parted on bad terms and this chapter of the story picks up where Jacob is attempting to reconcile with Esau. Now Jacob was a God follower, a God worshiper. He’s heard the voice of God Who told him to return to his people and He would do him good. But Jacob is afraid. He’s afraid that Esau is still angry and will try to kill him. So He prays for God’s deliverance. He plans to offer gifts in a sequence of droves in order to gain favor with his brother. Finally he sends his family and all that he had across the brook and he stays behind. Alone.

It is then the Man comes and wrestles with Jacob. Now, perhaps Jacob thought it was a robber or an enemy from another camp. The text doesn’t reveal his thoughts, only that he gave this Man a run for his money! He didn’t back down and when the Man did not prevail over him, He touched the hollow of his thigh, putting it out of joint. Sometime in the midst of this struggle that lasted all night the realization set in that this was no ordinary man because when He told Jacob to let Him go, Jacob refused unless He would declare a blessing on him. Talk about bold!

Then the man asked him “What is your name?”  Obviously God already knew his name but the Amplified Bible gives insight into why He wanted Jacob to say it:

The Man asked him, What is your name?  And in shock of realization, whispering, he said, Jacob – supplanter, schemer, trickster, swindler! (v. 27)

It was in the presence of God that Jacob came face-to-face with himself. He would have known the meaning of his name for many years now, but for the first time he truly saw his character. It is in this moment that God gives him a new name, Israel, changing his identity and drawing him into the plan for his life that had been there all along.

Something had been working in the wrestling. There was a reason the Man came and forced Jacob to contend with Him, forced him to engage in a surprising and confusing and exhausting exchange. And this meeting with God left him limping.

When we press in for more of God and refuse to let go it is certain that He will bring us face-to-face with ourselves. It is in these moments that pretense falls away and we see who we really are and how desperately we need Him. It is then we are ready to surrender to live out the plans He has for our lives in our new identity – the righteous, redeemed, forgiven children of God. When we examine our motives and the whys of our beliefs, stepping away from empty religious acts can be uncomfortable…kind of like limping. It is then we find that we can no longer walk the same as we did before.

He named the place of this meeting Peniel – the face of God, and was thankful that his life had been spared, so I don’t think he minded the limp. I think every time he took a cautious step, even if it hurt a bit, he remembered that he had been in the presence of God and the limp that to others may have looked like a handicap was actually evidence of his strength. Whether he had the limp for the rest of his life or not, it was sure that he never walked the same again.

When meeting with God leaves you limping” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Painting:  Jacob Wrestling with the Angel (detail) Eugène DELACROIX (1798-1863)

 

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Do you love Me?

ca. 2004, New Zealand, Pacific --- Flock of sheep, New Zealand, Pacific --- Image by © Mula Eshet/Robert Harding World Imagery/Corbis

“Do you love Me?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Feed My sheep.”

“Do you love Me?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Organize a protest against those Pharisees and Romans because they’ve really upped their game to oppose My sheep.”

“Wow!  Really?  Finally!  I’ve been waiting a long time to stand up to those who’ve been pointing their fingers, mocking us, spitting on us, and give them a piece of my mind.  Just who do they think they are? We have rights, you know, and it’s time that we demand those rights be respected!  And I’m just the one who could get this movement started.  I know a guy who has a stock pile of papyrus – he’ll gladly donate it for a social media blitz.  We can flood the city with posters pointing out our enemies’ grievous errors and mistreatment of your people, we can slander them right back, all in Your name, of course.”

“Do you love Me?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Call those other two hotheads in the group and begin a battle strategy for My sheep.  It’s time for war!!!”

“I’M ON IT!!  I’ve already got some ideas.  I told you I’d have your back, Jesus, if they ever came for you.  You must have misunderstood what I meant though, because that whole “Get thee behind me, Satan” comment was a little harsh, don’t you think?  I’ve got my sword ready.  I can defend and fight for our cause.  You’ve seen my skills…you know that I can take a man’s ear off in a flash!  And surely that day you turned to the crowd after the snippy Satan remark and told them that to follow You meant that they had to deny themselves and not care if following you led to their deaths…you meant that for them because they’re too weak to fight, right?  And before you go back to heaven I could use a little clarity on that whole love our enemies bit.  But it’ll have to wait until after we destroy those wolves in sheep’s clothing that are right here in our town…   I’ll be safe, right?  I mean, I’m your follower so you’re going to protect my life because I’m fighting for You… aren’t you?…because it kinda sounded like You just said I was going to die…”

Not exactly how the conversation went.  But maybe that’s how it would have gone if Jesus had only an earthly agenda and Peter had been a little more like me…a little more like you…

The early Christians lived in deeply troubled times.  Trouble like most of us have never seen. Governmental oppression.  Excessive taxation.  Public mockery.   Estrangement from family and friends because of their faith.  Imprisonment for spreading the gospel.  Persecution and torture for sharing the Truth.  Even unto death.

He sat with the one so passionate and out-spoken, the one He had called a rock, the one who bore the heavy weight of his own recent betrayal, and mercy and forgiveness asked of him three times…

Do you love Me?

Feed My sheep.*

Each time He asked He was giving Peter His unfailing love and changing Peter’s perspective on how to truly respond to that love.  He knew the disciples would undergo hardships and persecution and how they would die, most of them as martyrs.  The Pharisees and the Romans had not changed their positions. They had not relieved the oppression of the saints.  They did not believe in Jesus even though they still could not explain how His body left the tomb.  But what mission did Jesus lay before Peter?  Lead a rebellion against the Pharisees?  Organize the troops to fight the government?  Lead them into war?  No. He said “Feed My sheep.”

If we follow current events and listen to the reports, both secular and especially religious, the alarm is sounding that the wolf is at our door.  Arguments rage and emotions are on edge.  Opinions abound and frustrations rise.  Complicated issues demand a response.  Maybe we are like those early disciples in our floundering about through the daily activities wondering what God would have us do.  Perhaps it’s time to sit with Him and listen.

Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wishes to follow Me as My disciple, he must deny himself – set aside selfish interests, and take up his cross – expressing a willingness to endure whatever may come, and follow Me – believing in Me, conforming to My example in living and, if need be, suffering or perhaps dying because of faith in Me.  For whoever wishes to save his life in this world will eventually lose it through death, but whoever loses his life in this world for My sake will find it; that is, life with Me for all eternity.  Matthew 16:24-25

Will we die for our faith?  I don’t know.  But I do know that if we expect to be bold and courageous under persecution, real persecution, the question must be settled in the secret place with Him long before someone threatens our lives.  He called us to death from the beginning – death to self.  Pursuing Him takes us further and further away from consideration of ourselves and gives us vision beyond the news reports and the fear that tries to settle over us like a thick, black cloud.  There are many who are struggling with this fear because they don’t know Him.  They are hungry for something real to hold on to, something that will give them hope.  Right here, right now, in our cities and our neighborhoods.  And I believe that if we would just turn our attention away from the chaos and onto Him, we would hear mercy and forgiveness speak to us the very same mission:  “Feed My sheep“.  Obedience to this command is the only correct response to the question “Do you love Me?”

According to Christian tradition, Peter was crucified in Rome under Emperor Nero Augustus Caesar. It is traditionally held that he was crucified upside down at his own request, since he saw himself unworthy to be crucified in the same way as Jesus.**

Now, I don’t know if this is really how Peter died, but he died doing what Jesus told him to do.  He spent his life feeding His sheep.  No matter the conditions, I strongly suspect as he was gasping for his last breath he was not wishing that he had never gotten out of that boat when Jesus came by, never left Galilee, that he should have just lived out a comfortable life as a fisherman.  No.  I believe as his life ended he was full of grace and completely satisfied that it had been worth it all.  Even unto death.

In our last breaths, no matter what brings us to that point, will we be satisfied that we have done with our lives what He asked of us?  Will we love not our lives unto death (Revelation 12:11), whether literally or spiritually?  Will we have lived out our love for Him by feeding His sheep?

I suppose I should have included a sarcasm warning at the beginning of this post, but really…what can we do in the midst of the trouble that rages upon us?  Pray.  Support.  Give.  Vote.  But most importantly, let’s not lose sight of the mission.  Give action to His command.  Love the unlovely.  Help the helpless.  Stand for the defenseless.  Forgive the unforgivable.  Tell of Him.  Feed His sheep.

 

Do you love Me?” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

*John 21 contains the account of the conversation between Jesus and Peter.  The real one.

**source:  Wikipedia

 

 

 

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I have quieted my soul

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I knew before I left the house that the route to my destination would most assuredly include miles of bumper-to-bumper traffic before I reached the other side of Houston.  I set my mind to enjoy my trip no matter what and made sure to leave the house early enough to avoid the late afternoon rush hour.  I must admit there were moments which threatened my deliberate peace, but I was strong and resisted with my mantra “it doesn’t matter….you have plenty of time…enjoy the journey…”  I was prepared for the trip – I knew where I was going, had adequate fuel, snacks and water.  It’s easy to enjoy the journey when you are prepared.

I had been anticipating the retreat for months and with every mile that drew me closer, I could feel the pressures of the every day falling away.  As I drove onto the grounds of my destination an even stronger sense of quiet washed over me.  The kind of peace that you can drink in with every breath. Surrounding stillness that felt as if it were an alternate universe where tight muscles and tense nerves do not exist. Beauty of nature that softly beckons to let go of everything else and simply take it in.  A setting that clearly whispers be still and know that I am God.

I happily unpacked my things in the quaint, cozy room where I would spend the weekend.  There was plenty of time to get settled in and relax before the evening’s events.  I scanned my emails and messages to be sure that nothing important was left without a response and took a moment to review the latest social media posts.  It was there I learned of the attacks in Paris.  I quickly searched the web for more details as the sense of impending doom was knocking at my door.  This is our world and the inability to be prepared for these kinds of horrific acts strikes fear in our hearts.  The threats are bold and fierce and very real and we are at a loss as to what to do.

I gathered the initial facts and put down my phone.  Seeking Him quickly is the only way to turn away the fear of impending doom.  I offered up a familiar prayer of “God, I don’t even know what to pray!”  In times past, that would be the end of a quick “God help them.  God be with them.” prayer, but I have since learned to be still and literally ask God “What do You want me to pray?”  It is not hard to understand and pray for the immediate need for safety and comfort and protection for those who remain in the wake of the horror.  But somehow it still seems lacking.

In this great mystery that is prayer, God, who knows what we need before we ask, has chosen to involve us in a supernatural process.  The more I’ve grown closer to Him and the more I’ve sought understanding, the more it has become evident that I really don’t know very much.  Perhaps He will give me deeper understanding of why He involves us in the process.  Or maybe He won’t.  But He is teaching me more and more how to pray and that with or without understanding, He requires obedience.  If the bible is true and He is God and He knows everything and I cannot do anything (eternal) without Him, then it is very clear that I must learn from Him what to pray.

We can spend much time in worrying and fretting.  We can scream our opinions and blame our politicians, publicly shaming them for what we perceive as their lack of action to keep us safe.  We can cry and moan and fear for our lives, and spread the fear to those around us.  We can beg and plead with God to do something!!  But is that really who we are?  Is that what we are called to??

We must learn to quiet our souls.

Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor my eyes lofty; neither do I exercise myself in matters too great or in things too wonderful for me.  Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with his mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me – ceased from fretting.  O Isreal, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forever.  Psalm 131

Peace I leave with you; My own peace I now give and bequeath to you.  Not as the world gives do I give to you.  Do not let your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.  Stop allowing yourselves to be agitated and disturbed; and do not permit yourselves to be fearful and intimidated and cowardly and unsettled.  John 14:27

It is clear that He intended for us to participate in this:  “I (David) have calmed…  (You) Do not let…”  We are able to bring our mind, will, and emotions into submission to His Spirit, which is the spirit of Peace. We must find that place of peace so that we can clearly hear His words to us and learn how to act in times of trouble rather than automatically react in our flesh.

I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have perfect peace and confidence.  In the world you have tribulation and trials and distress and frustration; but be of good cheer – take courage; be confident, certain, undaunted!  For I have overcome the world.  I have deprived it of power to harm you and have conquered it for you.  John 16:33

There are days I ask myself why I am so surprised when trouble comes.  Duh.  Jesus plainly said there would be trouble in this world.  Our ability to quiet our souls and not be afraid comes from the confidence that we are not OF this world.  THIS LIFE IS TEMPORARY.  Perhaps it’s time for us to step back and get a new perspective.  This life has purpose and meaning and is important to God, but it is a wisp, a vapor in time compared to eternity.

What did God tell me to pray when I heard the news of Paris?  He told me to pray that in midst of the pain and chaos and grief people are experiencing that they would find Him as Savior.  He told me that the mission remains the same, Tell others about Me.  I won’t be traveling to Paris to tell others about Jesus.  But I will be putting feet to my prayers for those in my neighborhood.  It’s not just the people of France who are afraid.  It’s our families, our friends, our neighbors.  If we are afraid right along with them, we have no message of hope to share, no comfort to give.

Draw away with me.  Quiet your soul.  Pray whatever the Father tells you to pray.  Do whatever the Father tells you to do.  Find supernatural Peace in troubled times.  He is waiting…

“I have quieted my soul” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Photograph by Kay Stinnett and cannot be used without permission.

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Just a glimpse

eyes

I have a new friend who shared a very thought-provoking post on social media this morning.  As I sipped my coffee and read, I applauded her honesty and the willingness to be vulnerable.   She could have had her “moment” all by herself with none of us the wiser.  But I’m glad she didn’t.

It has been easy to enjoy her optimistic and encouraging personality.  I’ve left our conversations wishing I had half her energy!  She has an engaging way about her, a wonderful family, and a beautiful new home.  Yes.  She is one of those people.  You know, the kind who have it all with not a care in the world…the kind we frown at should a complaint ever escape their lips…the kind of which we often think “if they had my life, they wouldn’t be so chipper all the time.”   At least that’s what we think…

It takes courage to be real enough to share the less-than-perfect moments of our lives, to open ourselves up to those who may choose to criticize.  Her post was the second thing I’d read this week that reminded me of how little we actually see of each other’s lives and subsequently, how ridiculously foolish it is to judge someone based on the small glimpse we get.  The reality is that we are all in this together, this thing called life.  We all need an encouraging word more times that we let on.  We all have an ugly side that surfaces more than we would like.  We all struggle and mess up and make mistakes in the midst of our loving and serving and giving.  And we all need the same Grace to cover it.

Tonight I’ll spend a little time with some women who are struggling.  They are homeless.  The glimpse I’ll get into their lives won’t be about their happiest moments.  It won’t show me how gifted they are or what amazing talents they have.  We won’t sit down on comfortable sofas over nice warm beverages and talk about our families or what new furnishings we’d like to have.  We’ll have only moments to discover what their deepest prayer need is that they are willing to share with a stranger.  We’ll be there to minister to them and it will be easy for them to view us as “those” people.  You know, the ones who have it all together…

My prayer is that I will simply be real.  That in the moment God prompts me, I will be willing to share the less-than-perfect parts of my life so that someone I know or another who I will probably never see again can identify with me and draw some encouragement from the Grace I’ve found.  To believe if God can take my life and make something of it, that He can most certainly do the same for them.

So, hats off to you, my sister!!  Thank you for the reminder that it is seldom our perceived perfection that encourages others, but rather our everyday kind of humanity.  Makes me want to curl up in my hideously comfortable pj’s and relax…

 

Just a glimpse” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

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The end of the world

earth

I must have tossed and turned all night.  It was one of those mornings I drug myself out of bed having felt that I had’t slept at all.  I didn’t remember any particulars of my dreams and I was frustrated to begin yet another day with an energy deficit.  As I stumbled to the coffee pot I uttered my frequent prayer of “Why, God, why??  Why does sleep evade me so?”  I longed for the days of my youth when little sleep was required…

As the caffeine began to work its magic and the fog cleared, I remembered that just before going to sleep I had been thinking about the end of the world.  Well, no wonder my slumber was disturbed!  I’m not a huge fan of the televised news but had watched an evening broadcast with my husband who is a bit of a news junkie.  Following this input of distressing information I spent a little time reading before trying to sleep.  I was reading about bible prophecy.  I do not recommend this if restful sleep is the goal.

As I retraced my mental steps of the night before, I remember that I went to sleep asking God “What do we do?”  It wasn’t a fearful question but rather a practical one.  How do we prepare if the world is going to end?

My husband is busy with preparation.  While I tease him about being ready for the zombie apocalypse, I appreciate that he is making ready as best he can in order to feed and protect his family.  He thinks of the “what to do” if we have limited or no access to things in our everyday life that we currently take for granted.  He is doing what he can do now, knowing that it will be impossible to fully prepare.

Years ago I saw a little wall hanging that said “You can’t scare me.  I have kids.”  I thought it was funny. I realize now that I have taken this frame of mind when it comes to all the trouble in the world and the doom and gloom that the future seems to hold.

End of the world?  You don’t scare me.  I’ve watched my world crumble as my heart was broken and marriage fell apart.  I wasn’t prepared.  I’ve stumbled through the rubble, falling again and again, the inevitable scars making their mark and altering my future.  Some for good.  Some for bad.  And I’m still standing.

End of the world?  I’ve loved and lost more than I ever dreamed I would.  I’ve chosen wrong paths that invited destruction into my life.  I’ve wrestled with God during these times, pulling against Him and clinging to Him at the same time, living a broken life under the guise of being a confident Christian.

End of the world?  I’ve stood to speak at my son’s memorial when I felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest. We had just begun to find each other again.  Just a few short weeks before, we had a sweet, sweet time together at breakfast.  He left me that morning with a kiss on my cheek.  I can still feel it. There is no way to prepare for this.

End of the world?  You don’t scare me.  I’ve found that God is faithful and true and whatever may come He will never leave me.  I’ve found that my assurance of something more than this world offers is stronger than ever.   I’ve found the One who suffered more than I can imagine so that there could be purpose borne out of any suffering I may endure.  I’ve found Hope.  I’ve found Love.

Unspeakable horrors and acts of evil pervade our world and it’s hard to imagine that it will not ultimately destroy the earth.  So, God, what do we do?  We stay on task:  Tell them about Me.  What hope do we have without Him?  My heart breaks for those across this globe who face the terrors I cannot imagine and I pray for them.  I give what I can to their aid and support.  I try not to turn away from their images and become numb to their pain.  But I pray that I will also be sensitive to the woman down the street whose world just ended with the passing of her husband.  Or the man who stands begging on the corner, no longer able to sustain his world when the job ended.  Or the young person whose world has become an endless rip tide of addiction.   The mission remains the same:  Tell them about Me.

The end of the world?  Don’t be afraid.  There is so much more to life than this.  God in His magnificent love offers us a new beginning in Him, a life that will never end.  He compels us to take His offer of mercy and grace and fall into His arms.  In His love there is no fear and the end will find us still standing.

There is no fear in love…love drives out fear and dispels every trace of terror.  (1 John 4:18)

The end of the world” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

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When faith and prayer are not enough

 

CookingShoppingLP-1

This week my heart has been heavy for a friend.  Her plate is full and she just got served another big helping of life that has the ability to overwhelm.  Again.  While I don’t feel that I know her that well yet, what I have seen in her quiet demeanor is a river that runs deep, a strength that endures, and a life lived in the business of giving.  We had but a moment together before an event when she relayed the latest information to me and I felt that old, familiar helplessness rising as I watched her fight the tears that welled up in her eyes.  I recognized the resistance to the unwelcomed flood that threatened to pour forth, a resistance to yield for fear that the waters would rise and overtake her, drowning her in the unspoken sorrow that claimed her heart that day.

She covets the thoughts and prayers of her friends and family and I assured her immediately that I would be praying and standing with her in faith for the help and hope and healing that is needed.  And I have.  I am sure that she is confident that I will not forget to pray or speak life over her situation.  I have no actual hand in the solution, no concrete way to step in and save the day, yet I have not been able to shake the feeling that I need to do more.

God has worked in my life an openness to others and a comfort with sharing my experiences, but I am still at heart a private and more reserved person when it comes to my own needs.  I see this same characteristic in my friend.  I approach with caution not because I don’t want to help, but because I do not want to press too far or offend in any way.  So as I asked God what more could I do, He answered in His wonderful simplicity:

“You can cook.  You can clean.  You can drive.  You can listen.  You can help.”

I couldn’t wait to see her this morning just to say “Let me help.”  To tell her that I can cook, clean, drive, and listen. It’s not like I didn’t know I can do these things, but His prompting was to stop waiting for her to ask!  To probe for a little more information about the things that lie ahead and to purposefully plan to do things she would never ask me to do.  We so often reserve these acts of service for the moms who’ve come home with a newborn or the family that mourns a lost one.  So many people we know have so many problems that we can find ourselves paralyzed into inactivity, relying on our promises of faithful prayers to be enough.  And sometimes they are.  But I strongly suspect that more often our faith should have some actual muscle behind it and our prayers should be more shown than heard, because true faith produces good works (James 2).

On the other hand, in our desire to live our faith and be strong Christians we many times find ourselves unable to ask for help.  My friend needs rest. She would never ask and I’m no Martha Stewart, but I can cook a meal.  It won’t give her days of rest but maybe for that evening she can just sit for a while.  I can drive and run errands and maybe for an hour or two she doesn’t have to think about what needs to be done in her ordinary life.  I can listen and let her cry without any expectations or condemnation but simply because sometimes we just need to have a good, long cry.  I am not the answer to the problem, but I can help.

Carry one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the Law of Christ.  Galatians 6:2

Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God. Hebrews  13:16

So this week and the next week and the next week and for however long she needs, I will help.  And as I stand in faith and pray for those I know who are in need, I think I’ll head to the kitchen a little more often and cook someone a meal.

 

When faith and prayer are not enough” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

 

 

 

 

Christian, Encouragement, Faith, family, God, grace, grief, Jesus, loss, love, mothers, sorrow, Spiritual, tears

The silence speaks

If he had known the course his silence would chart, he would have spoken.  If he had known that his silence spoke to me lies of my unworthiness to be loved, he would have told me the very opposite – that he loved me more deeply than words could express.  His silence spoke his disappointment loudly and I was too young to understand that it spoke more about him and his pain than about me.  Through the pretense of the everyday as if nothing were wrong, his silence grew to be louder than any other voice my soul could hear.  And it broke my heart.

It was an excruciating pain to know that his eyes avoided mine no matter how close we stood, that his voice would not respond to mine no matter how clearly I spoke.  I stifled my cries as it was clear they would do no good nor bring about any change.  Day after day, week after week, month after month, the silence chiseled the fragile strands of any innocent childhood belief that I was good enough to be loved.

If he had known his silence would create in me a desperation that was easily wooed by sounds of false love, he would have spoken.  I had no warning that my opposition to him would cost so very much.  His silence taught me that the consequences of mistakes in love were to be feared and that I would have to work very hard to be good.  The emptiness left by the absence of the voice I adored most was mine to bear, and I while I gained sympathy from many who knew, deep inside I believed it to be just.  I believed I deserved it.

If he had known that his silence would teach me to be a pretender, he would have spoken because he despised pretenders.  But I had learned in his silence to put on a happy face and do the things before me as if it didn’t matter that I was broken.  By the time he spoke a chasm had formed, but we never talked about that either.  And in that chasm lay the belief that the key to love was to do and say and be what someone else wanted, and to keep silent about myself for no one wants someone who is broken.

I carried all that his silence taught me into the relationships I had and into my walk with God.  It’s easy to hear the message that God is angry when it is what you expect.  It is easy to believe that God can only approve of you if you do what is right.  It is easy to believe that you do not deserve His help if you do not do exactly as He commands.  It is easy to believe that His silence means you are unworthy of His love when silence is the very thing you fear.

My desperation and resulting failure at love were the very things that brought me to real Love.  Having nowhere to run and no place to hide and my pretense in shambles, my brokenness spilled out as if a mighty dam had crumbled.  Every sob I let forth was met with Tenderness.  Every sigh of unworthiness was captured by Mercy.  Every ache of unloveliness was comforted by extravagant Love.  Every effort to “do” was quenched by what was already “done”.  I found I was truly loved.

I am on a continuing journey of learning who He really is and what His love is all about.  And sometimes love is silent.  Like when a mother just looks at her child without a word because there are no words adequate to describe the love that rages inside.  She asks nothing of the child but to let her look, to not turn away.  I have learned that God’s love is like that.

I have to purpose to rest in His times of silent love because it is still easy for me to revert back to my impossible efforts and wrong ideas that I must somehow do something to deserve His love.  Just this week I was asking Him what to do with His silence, and He simply said

“My silence speaks:  Trust me.”

And I was not afraid.

 

The silence speaks” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Bible, children, Christian, church, Encouragement, Faith, family, friends, God, grace, Jesus, love, prayer, Spiritual, trials

In her shoes

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I caught her eyes several times during the service.  She struggled to listen as she was surrounded by her four children and the activity that invariably ensues when two or more children are in close proximity.  The chapel is simply the dining area with most of the tables removed and only chairs in their place.  She sat at the back with the other mothers of busy children, concerned that they were a distraction but longing to hear anything that might expose a glimmer of hope.

Their faces are like open doors giving a glimpse into their hearts.  I can see some are simply there because it is a place to rest in the air conditioning, a break from the routines of responsibilities they don’t want to do in a place they don’t want to be.  They are disinterestedly polite.  Some smile and nod in agreement as my words confirm what they already know.  Others are so tired from the physical and emotional demands of the day that they nod in a different fashion.  Anger and frustration burn in the eyes of a few as there is no longer a pretense that they are fine even when they come to church.  Especially when they come to church.

She was the farthest from me but it’s as if I can see in her face a silent plea. “I’m hungry!  Feed me something that will last until tomorrow!  Give me more than empty platitudes and churchy phrases!  Please make it real.”  Across the room expressions without words reveal she is not alone in her desire.

Does she know that I see her?  Does she see in my eyes that she matters?  As I look from face to face I pray that the women who sit before me know they are seen.  I haven’t walked in their shoes on the paths they have traveled, but I see these, my fellow Egypt-wanderers.  I have no stones to throw.  We’ve traveled paths we never planned and feared we would never find our way home.  We’ve found our feet unable to move through the muck and mire of our own selfish choices.  We’ve fallen under the burden of someone else’s choices.  We’ve choked in the grips of trouble, desperate to believe there is more than this.  More to life than the struggle.  More to church than a list of do’s and don’ts and the fear of going to hell.  More to God than children’s stories and greeting card verses.

Can she hear me?  Can she fathom the depths of the Love offered her this night?  Can she imagine a life of freedom purchased through Grace where no condemnation speaks?  Can she believe the stirring in her soul is His voice compelling her to come to Him just as she is, loved and accepted?  Can she find the Hope that is her future?

I watch as she walks toward me.  She is tall and beautiful and tired and ready.  Ready to reach out to a stranger who has not walked in her shoes but will take her hand and perhaps point her toward the way out of Egypt.  We pray and hug.  She takes a bible.  There is so much I want to say but there is no time.  We smile and say goodbye.  We will probably never meet again.

God, take me to a place in prayer for her where there is no hint of opinion or judgement, no arrogance that thinks I know what she needs, no pride that considers myself any different as you have delivered me out of my own Egypt-wandering.  Remind me as I pray that I haven’t walked in her shoes.

I am the Lord your God, Who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.

Open your mouth wide and I will fill it. 

Psalm 81:10

In her shoes” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Photograph by Kay Stinnett and cannot be used without permission.

 

Bible, Christian, church, Encouragement, Faith, friends, God, grace, Jesus, love, praise, prayer, righteousness, Spiritual, Uncategorized

Afraid of the storms

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This is CJ, our new dog.  He’s 62 pounds of solid muscle with a scary sounding bark to those who don’t know he’s really a softy who loves people.  He seriously enjoys taking me for a walk and will approach with confidence any other living thing we encounter.  But he has a secret.  He’s scared of thunder.  He’s had a difficult time lately as we have experienced week after week after week of severe thunderstorms where we live.  He paces the floor in an effort to find a safe place, his whole body shaking in fear.  This is what he chose one day last week – to stand in the corner and face the door.  I imagined he was saying to himself “Just don’t look and it will all go away…”  He stayed there for over an hour.

I’m new to this whole dog ownership thing in that this is the first time in a long time I’ve had a dog I actually wanted to interact with.  Before adopting CJ, I had never walked a dog on a leash, taken one to a veterinarian, considered whether or not the dog food was acceptable, or been willing to tolerate the hair that now seems to be everywhere.  I find myself strangely concerned about how he feels and if he is happy in his new home.  And I hate it when he’s scared.

I am there with him through the storms and I do everything I can to let him know it’s ok.  But short of learning how to speak dog, I am at a loss as to how to convince him that he is safe.  The scary sounds are louder than the truth.

I spent a great deal of my life trying to hide the fact that I was scared.  From my earliest memories, fear has been a predominant emotion, many times undefined and most certainly unspoken.  How can you tell someone you are afraid when often you don’t even know what you’re afraid of?  A vague sense of impending doom always seemed to hover near.  Through the years and some pretty major life errors, this fear grew and I became afraid of life’s storms. Past failures were the thunder that boomed of my incompetence in life and deepened my dread of the failures that were surely ahead of me.  I’ve paced when the inevitable storm was approaching, I’ve trembled during its onslaught, and I’ve crumbled in the aftermath.  And for the most part, I’ve kept it to myself.

It was easy to hide my secret because I’ve always been an optimistic and generally happy person.  But this only accentuated the inward conflict.  I was a strong and confident person in so many ways.  But when I found myself alone, particularly at night, the clouds would roll in and the thunder would sound, and I would succumb to the fears once again.

I even attempted to let down my guard and ask for help a couple of times.  The ones I entrusted with my secret found it impossible to either understand or believe as my personality and attitude were more convincing and they didn’t take my fears very seriously.  They offered simple advice and familiar scriptures and I politely walked away believing that this kind of vulnerability just wasn’t worth it.  So I stayed silent. And afraid.

CJ reminded me of these times as I watched him shake in the corner.  He was safe but he didn’t know it.  I shared a bit of these experiences with a bible study group last night and this very familiar scripture:

…and you shall know the Truth and the Truth shall set you free…  John 8:32 

Many who do not believe in God or Jesus or the bible often quote this scripture, but they only quote the second half – that the truth will set you free.  If that were so, then everyone would be living free lives because the Truth has come.  The existence of truth is not what sets us free.  It’s the truth that we know that sets us free, and this knowing is more than the intellectual acceptance.  It is truly believing the truth because it is the truth and not based on how we feel.

I’d quoted the scriptures and spoken the prayers, seemingly to no avail.  I did all that I knew to do and nothing worked because I didn’t know the truth upon which all others are based:  God loved me.  I intellectually accepted that He loved me because the bible said so and let’s face it, He is God and God is love, so He had to love me at some level.  But in the dark hours when the fear swelled, I didn’t really believe the truth of His love.

Too tired to run and hide from the storm that was upon me, and in my most desperate hours, Truth came to me:

And we know – understand, recognize, are conscious of, by observation and experience – and believe the love God cherishes for us.  God is love and he who dwells and continues in love dwells and continues in God and God dwells and continues in him.  In this union and communion with Him, love is brought to completion and attains perfection with us, that we may have confidence for the day of judgment – with assurance and boldness to face Him – because as He is, so are we in this world.  There is no fear in love – dread does not exist – but full-grown (complete and perfect) love turns fear out of doors and expels every trace of terror!   1 John 4:16-18b

The scary sounds were no longer louder than the truth  – God loves me and His love abides within me.  I have the power to drive fear away and to live an abundant, free life, because now I know:  God loves me.

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