Category: Expectations

We Serve…

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Life is always such a glorious, yet difficult mix of things. I have a temperament that struggles with navigating these complexities. As my all time favorite literary and film character, Anne of Green Gables and Avonlea says, “I can’t help but soaring up on the wings of anticipation, only to come crashing down into the depths of despair.”  Whether because of innate personality or learned responses to experiences or both, I tend to ride the roller coaster of life feeling deeply every bump, climb, curve, and fall.

Recently, I’ve soared because I was granted a home in the town that I love. The ability to sign its contract came about through several miraculous events. My friends’ extreme generosity in assisting with the total cost ultimately made it possible for a single mother and teacher to live in an expensive mountain town. The amount of money needed was inconceivable to me, so I feel very blessed and grateful to be able to raise my daughter here and stay in this community that I’ve loved for over a decade and a half.

At the same time that this came about, I’ve been extremely physically sick and have also needed to walk through more of the complex and weighty realities of divorce. Allowing my toddler to spend the night with her dad and away from me feels as if a piece of me is literally missing. Although I know I played a role, I had no control over so many realities that brought us to this place, and there are so many things in the present and the future that I am also unable to control. For myself, that is one thing, but when it impacts my child, it is quite another.

Yet to all my joy and worries and fears and complaints, a very dear friend responded simply, “We serve a God who is in charge of all things.” I must admit that her response felt a little callous. Deep down, I knew she wasn’t being dismissive of my pain. As a devoted mother, compassionate friend, and faithful follower of Christ, I knew she empathized with my struggles. It felt extremely difficult, however, to hear this hard truth shared in response to my heartbreak. I imagine the twelve disciples often felt this way when Jesus shared life-shattering truths with them. Yet how could He offer anything other than Himself? 

I know that many people experience much more difficult things than I have, awful things that defy my comprehension and cause most people to deny that God is at work for their good. I don’t know how to explain those events nor all the circumstances in my life that have worn and torn out my heart. 

But we serve God, He does not serve us, for He is God and we are not. In His supreme, complicated, and glorious sovereignty, it is He who permits, and orders all things. No matter how awful or hard it feels, we must trust that it is God who is shaping us, who is constantly simultaneously at work for our good and for His glory. 

As Bebo Norman wrote and sang in THE HAMMER HOLDS, 

“So dream a little dream for me in hopes that I’ll remain. 

And cry a little cry for me, so I can bear the pain…. 

My dreams are not the issue here, for they, the hammer holds.”

HOPE–A Thorny Bloom

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My yard is blessed by an overabundance of thistles–probably my least-favorite plant. With all the rain and wind we received in the late spring in our region this year, a few thistles multiplied to literally hundreds seemingly overnight. Thorny and prickly and nearly impossible to pull out without the right tools, gloves, and technique, they still seem to defy me and grow back the next week to impede the paths around our home and poke my toddler as she explores the yard. 

For all of these reasons and more, I was sure for the longest time that the thistle is a weed, and not just any old weed, but the meanest and most noxious weed of them all.  After noticing lovely blooms on the taller thistles around the area, however, I looked it up and was surprised to learn that it is a highly valued and beneficial flowering plant whose prickles simply help protect it from being eaten by herbivores. Not only that, but according to Wikipedia, “Biennial thistles are particularly noteworthy for their high wildlife value, producing such things as copious floral resources for pollinators, nourishing seeds for birds like the goldfinch, foliage for butterfly larvae, and down for the lining of birds’ nests.”

It made me wonder if the thorny plants in my life have benefits too, despite the mild suffering that comes from being pricked by their thorns. I’m reminded of Romans 5:3-5: “And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”

This passage mystified me when I stumbled across it as a young adult digging deep into Scripture, for I was already naively hopeful and had suffered very little. I thought it strange that the Apostle Paul listed hope as the end result instead of the starting place.

Now, as a more seasoned believer who has had the wind taken out of her sails a few times, I understand. The “hope” I experienced as a young woman was really more like youthful optimism that cracked several times under pressure until it eventually shattered, revealed for the ingenuine thing that it was. It is as the Apostle Peter said in I Peter 1:6-7, “In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which perishes though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”

In times of suffering, there are times when it has been difficult for me to face it with character or to persevere in it and continue to put one foot in front of another. But Paul was right–the most difficult thing by far is to hope. Peter tells us to count it all joy that we are able to share in the suffering of Christ. Easier said than done, certainly. But what joy it is that the end result of it all is that blessed and elusive thing–genuine hope. Even the thorny thistle has the most lovely, vibrant, purple bloom. As Emily Dickinson said, “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.”

“To Soar on Shifting Sand”

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I’m a big fan of the WILLOW TREE figurines by Susan Lordi. Though they’re produced en masse, the originals are simple wood sculptures of people or angels that capture much of the range of human emotion. My favorite is called “SOAR” and features a woman with her joyful face angled towards the heavens, her arms stretched out wide, birds resting upon them.

I bought this figurine a few years ago in a season when I yearned to experience such freedom and needed the daily visual reminder that it was possible to soar. Over the last year, as my bird-loving toddler grows, “SOAR” has unfortunately taken quite a beating. I feel sad when I look at SOAR now, scratched and bruised, missing a hand and one bird, other birds replaced by glue. It feels like I’m in a similar condition. It’s easy to imagine I’m broken beyond repair, grounded for life, or unworthy of public viewing. And yet, I also note that despite how SOAR has been beaten and bruised, her arms are still raised, her face ever victorious and turned towards the sun.

In her book RISING STRONG, author Brené Brown discusses the concept that our culture is one that can value failure IF it leads to victory, but that we also easily gloss over the feelings of defeat, frustration, angst, loneliness, and struggle that so often accompany failure. We often forget that this is a place many of us stay in for a season or seasons, but that it is possible to rise up strong from it. I’m trying to have faith that I can do so too.

Early on in my adult life, I thought of myself as a person of strong faith. Although it was clear I didn’t have the mustard seed size required to move mountains (Matthew 17:20), it felt possible to eventually grow to that level. All it has taken, however, is a series of many trials over the years to knock the wind out of me. I know now that my faith is either non-existent or infinitesimally small. Like the SOAR and Moses, my arms have grown weak and weary and I have often needed others to hold them up. The friends who have done so are a big part of why I’m still holding on in the times when I can’t discern God’s hand or purpose.

If faith “…is like shifting sand, changed by every wave…” as the band Caedmon’s Call sings, perhaps the waves that continue to crash in can continue to shape it and make it something new, something pure and refined, something that isn’t mine at all. As Hebrews 12 says, God is “…the author and perfector of my faith.” Will He ultimately make it full and complete? The apostle Peter also tells us, “But this happened so that your faith, of greater worth than gold, may be found perfect and complete” (I Peter 1:7).

The final word on this subject for me, however, was written by the prophet Isaiah: 

“Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord, my cause is disregarded by my God”? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall, but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary.” Isaiah 40: 27-31

“In Over My Head…”

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In the old Sandra Bullock movie WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, the protagonist Lucy begins her narration by stating that her dad had told her as a child that life doesn’t always turn out the way you think it will. She wishes she had realized at the time he was referring to her life. Isn’t that the truth? We all hear similar counsel when we’re young, yet somehow believe our lives will be the exception to the rule. This reminds me of what an old gypsy proverb tells us, “We are ALL wanderers on this earth. Our hearts are full of laughter and our souls are deep with dreams.”

When life takes unpredictable turns or we choose the road less traveled and find that our path has led us in unexpected, even painful directions, disillusionment, even despair, can follow. What can we do with these overwhelming emotions except to look outside of ourselves for answers and peace? 

The only comfort I have found is in God. Though He didn’t promise an easy or predictable path, He did promise an abundant life full of His constant companionship and the strength He provides. Though my emotions and circumstances are constantly in flux, He never changes or wavers. There have been many times it’s been difficult to trust His hand, but He keeps drawing me in, assuring me of His heart and His tender care. Jenn Johnson of Bethel Music sings a song called “In Over My Head (Crash Over Me)” describing a similar journey of faith:

“And you crash over me, and

I’ve lost control but I’m free.

I’m going over, I’m in over my head.” 

These lyrics bring to my mind images and memories of swimming in the Caribbean ocean at high tide. As I head towards the surf and the tide crashes in, I’ll be lost and swept away if I try to fight. The more I’m willing to go with the tide and dive into its depths, however, surrendering to something stronger than myself, the better chance I have of getting to the other side. And on the other side, a view like none other awaits…a multi-colored horizon, a clean slate, a new beginning.

In “I Could Sing of Your Love Forever,” the band Delirious? sings,

“Over the mountains and the sea,

Your river runs with love for me,

And I will open up my heart and let the Healer set me free.

I could sing of your love forever….”

The sea is His love. Up to now, I’ve done little more than dip my toes in its water or wade in ankle deep. Today, I wade in and surrender. I release my expectations of what life is or will be and cling to His strong arms. May His goodness lead me in over my head and to the other side.

“No Hard Feelings” (Avett Brothers)…

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I recently watched a documentary about Audrey Hepburn. It wasn’t the first I’ve seen about an amazing actress and humanitarian I’ve long admired for her beauty, grace, joy, and sweetness. The documentary featured an interview with her in her later years in which Audrey was asked how she maintained her positivity in the face of the loss and hardship she had experienced in life, particularly during her youth when she lived, and nearly starved,  in Nazi-occupied Holland during World War II. Audrey responded that she had always felt that life gives us a choice…we can choose to embrace it with all its complexity, or to reject it with all the consequences that will follow that attitude.

How true that is! Life is complex, ever offering a mix of loveliness and ugliness, joy and grief, happiness and hardship. Though our individual journeys vary widely, we all wade through our own circumstances in their seasons–no one rides for free. And yet, despite all that is out of our control, there is so much for which we can claim ownership. First and foremost among these are our attitudes and ways of engaging in the world.

Chuck Swindoll once said, “The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company… a church… a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past… we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you… we are in charge of our Attitudes.”

The Avett Brothers have a beautiful song entitled “No Hard Feelings.” The authors ponder how they will leave life when it is time, asking, “When my body won’t hold me anymore and it finally lets me free, will I be ready?” What will our attitudes be when our bodies fail and give up our battles to accomplish and own and succeed? The authors determine that their goal is to leave life and embrace what lies beyond “…with no hard feelings.” They sing,

“Under the curving sky, I’m finally learning why,

It matters to me and you, to say it and mean it too,

For life and its lovely nest, and all of its ugliness,

Good as it’s been to me, I have no enemies.”

May we all have the ability to embrace the paths before us and accept life and ourselves, in all their complexities and imperfections, with no hard feelings.

“If I Could Just Sit With You Awhile…”

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Despite my best intentions to be present and stay balanced, the hustle and bustle of life inevitably draws me in. Just a few extra commitments or stressors within the week can overwhelm. Instead of operating from a place of calm or sitting with the anxiety in a productive way that would move me forward, I often revert to striving and dwelling in a state of near panic.

Part of this is a natural introversion. When exhausted and overwhelmed, it’s only through quiet alone time that I recharge and recenter. But feeling groundless also means that I have lost the deep connection with my Saviour that nourishes and sustains me day by day. In busy times, I’m often still sitting down to be with God in devotions, albeit for less time, but struggle to free my mind and heart from all that weigh on them. The to-do list presses in on the time my soul most needs. 

Songwriter and singer Dennis Jernigan has an older song called, “If I Could Just Sit with You Awhile.” In it, he discusses the merits of getting quiet with Jesus when life’s demands and concerns press in. Though reading the Word and praying are normally the ways I do this, with a crowded mind, just getting still and turning up the worship music works best. Sometimes, I picture crawling up in the lap of my Good Father and being welcomed into His arms. If I meditate on this, all else fades. As Dennis Jernigan sings, 

“If I could just sit with you awhile,

If You could just hold me.

Nothing could touch me,

Though I’m wounded, though I die.”

Oddly enough, when I’m craving life, death is often what’s needed. To return to a state of peace, I must die to the pride I take in completing things well or keeping up or even reaching out to others. I cannot pour out until I allow the Holy Spirit to pour into me. Once I’m filled by Him and resting in His presence, just as the song says, nothing can touch me. The act of surrender returns me to equilibrium.


In her book CAPTIVATING, Stasi Eldridge explains that most women struggle with the simultaneous yet competing ideas that they are both not enough and too much. This resonates with me. But would I struggle if I didn’t buy into the lies that I should attain perfection in so many different areas of life? Instead, I must surrender the ideal and accept and embrace what IS. I must forgive myself for falling short and give thanks to the One who lived and died in perfection for me. Then, my weary soul can breathe easy, for it isn’t all up to me. I will focus on loving God and allowing Him to use me to love others, but trust it is ultimately His work. After all, as the Apostle Paul says, I am only a jar of clay.

“Just Another Ordinary Miracle Today”

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For the second time this year, my husband has undergone major surgery. The last time, it was an emergency situation that caught us both by surprise, almost took his life, and required a month of living in the hospital. This time, we planned for the follow-up reversal surgery. Though I feared our lives would spin out of control again the moment we stepped into the hospital, things went far better than expected. They found few symptoms of his auto-immune disease, he required no time in ICU, and we left after a stay of three short days, with the doctors and nurses amazed at his rapid healing.

 

I wish I could say it hadn’t come as a surprise to me. It’s true–I’ve prayed and believed for his healing many times over the past several months. Apparently, however, there were places of disbelief I held back. The moments I allowed my fear to be bigger than my faith are greater than I would like them to be. This experience, as well as others, provides a lesson in POSITIVITY. An unknown quote posted on my wall encourages me to become a “possibilitarian.” Eventually, gradually, purposefully…I hope and will work for conversion.

 

To ground myself, I remember the cadence of gratitude that came after a month in the hospital last spring: 

  1. Sleeping and waking up in our own bed, not to mention getting to sleep in the same bed.
  2. Cooking and eating our own food…mmmm…though I’m sure my husband will occasionally miss those mystery meat patties from the hospital.
  3. Looking out at the mountains instead of concrete and highway traffic.
  4. Sitting in the sun instead of a hospital bed as the sound of windchimes replaces hospital alarms. 
  5. Being outside and breathing fresh air with our dogs, enough to bring us both to tears! 
  6. Being able to sit on our couch without constant interruptions from the IV monitor or those we affectionately called the “cuddle police” at the hospital.
  7. Hot showers.
  8. Better sleep. No more daily or 4:30 am IV draws or middle of the night interruptions. 
  9. No more 6:30 am visits from the team of doctors, though we are thankful for the care they provided.
  10. Returning to life, not as we knew it, but some semblance thereof. 

 

Sarah McLachlan’s beautiful song, “Ordinary Miracle” reminds us that each day is full of these possibilities:

“It’s not that unusual

When everything is beautiful.

It’s just another ordinary miracle today.”

“Feeding on Mystery: The Table Before Me…”

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We all know it to be true…our lives can change in an instant, in a single breath. Some years crawl and plod on with seeming monotony, yet each day holds wonders untold. Then there are the days where something shifts. For better or worse, the unexpected comes. At times, among those surprises are the things we’ve long hoped and prayed for, revealing the unbelief that resided in our hearts all along. At others, unspoken fears are realized or loss we never imagined possible occurs. We must find ways to accept life’s ambiguity and mystery in order to find happiness and peace.

 

In her stunning book 1,000 Gifts, Ann Voskamp provides an eloquent exposition of the Hebrew word manna, meaning, “What is it?” As the Israelites exited their time of slavery in Egypt and began their desert journey to the Promised Land, God rained down manna bread from heaven to nourish them each day. Though plentiful, they couldn’t store it up—each family could gather only what it could eat in a day and must trust God’s provision would be there again the next day. Though delicious, this was to be their sustenance for forty years—meal after meal, day after day. Amazed at first by the miracle God faithfully performed on their behalf, the Israelites cried out in wonder, “What is it?” But as the days and years of wandering in a barren place wore on, their amazement soon turned to grumbling.

 

This is so true in my own life. At first, when God provides for me in the dry places, I’m inclined to see His hand and marvel at His goodness and might. As time goes by, however, my eyes are blinded to the countless ways He works on my behalf. Contentment soon changes to dissatisfaction. I grow tired of feeding on mystery and desire to simply understand the purpose of it all.

 

In Psalm 23:5, David writes, “He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” There’s never a shortage of enemies in life, though they come in many forms. The promise, however, is that there is always a table prepared for ME in His presence. I don’t expect or desire it to be filled with mystery, with provisions that are difficult to identify. But so it is. God asks me to take the bread He has given, that He has been broken in order to break with me, and to call it grace. And so I will.

 

The following verse of Psalm 23 states, “Surely goodness & mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Though unknown, though highly unpredictable…surely good things are in store. As Albert Einstein said, “There are two ways in which you can live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle, or you can live as if everything is a miracle.” 

***Photo Credits: lovedoes.org

“O Cross that Liftest Up My Head” (George Matheson)…

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The final stanza to George Matheson’s hymn “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go” makes clear the calling each follower of Christ is called to:

 

O Cross that liftest up my head

I do not ask to fly from thee

I lay in dust life’s glory dead

And from the ground there blossoms red

Life that shall ever be.

 

Our earthly lives can be full of blessing, and simultaneously, full of suffering, marked my wounds and scars we’ve received along the way. The apostle Peter speaks to this in I Peter 4:12: “My dear brothers, do not be surprised at the test you are suffering, as though something unusual was happening to you. Rather, rejoice that you are sharing in the suffering of Christ, so that you may be full of joy when His glory is revealed.”

 

We share in the suffering of Christ, who suffered all things for us, and we are promised joy as the end result. When Jesus returned to the disciples after the crucifixion and the apostle Thomas doubted his resurrected identity, Jesus told him to feel the wounds in his side and his hands. Jesus offered Thomas total transparency, knowing this apostle would one day be martyred for his efforts to share the gospel in modern day India.

 

As author Sheila Walsh states in her book It’s Okay Not to Be Okay: Moving Forward One Day At a Time:
“There is no image that displays the love of God more perfectly than the scars of Jesus. The scars tell God’s story. ‘That Sunday evening the disciples were meeting behind locked doors because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders. Suddenly, Jesus was standing there among them! ‘Peace be with you,’ he said. As he spoke, he showed them the wounds in his hands and his side. They were filled with joy when they saw the Lord!’ (John 20:19–20)

But before the joy, there was heartache and questions. Nothing made sense anymore.

We all know we’ll face challenges in life, but sometimes we’re hit by something that feels as if the enemy has won. That’s a frightening place to be. That must have been how the disciples felt that night.

But as the risen Christ held out His nail-pierced hands and wounded side to His friends, they were no longer marks of death, they were signs of victory: declaring that death was overcome by the blood of the Lamb. Christ wears those scars in heaven as glorious trophies of the battle He has won.

The only wound from this earth in eternity will be the scars of Christ (emphasis mine). If Christ has chosen to live eternally with His scars, why would we be ashamed to show ours?

I think that every time God the Father sees the pierced hands and feet of Christ, He sees you and me. The scars tell God’s love story.

The love of God invites us to bring our scars into the light. We don’t have to hide anymore. It really is okay not to be okay.

Our scars are proof that God heals.”

The Magic of Ordinary Days…

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At last, my husband and I have entered a season of normalcy, a time of settling…at last. For him, it involves the beginning of a new job and the ascent of a high learning curve. For me, it is a return to the familiar, finding once more the cadence of a place my heart knows and loves. The rituals of living consume a good portion of the day, but as I clean, work or study, prepare meals, exercise or walk the dogs, I find in each ordinary task an extraordinary richness. After being away from all this for several months, my eyes are opened to the magic and gift of this life. The consistent, quiet routine nourishes my soul.

 

In her blog entitled, “When You Need a Survival Guide for the Soul,” author Ann Voskamp writes, “Habits are the way we wear our days…. Habits are the small gears that leverage your life–and if you change your rhythms, you can change anything into a possibility. You change your life when you change how you meet Christ every day. Our rhythms become our everyday liturgy, the cadence of the hours that reorient our tired souls.”

 

After almost four decades, I am learning little habits that help me to enjoy life a bit more. I try to do one thing at a time. I take a deep breath and look around when I eat a meal. I drink a cold glass of ice water and listen to music as I cook. I stop what I’m doing to be fully present when someone walks in the room. I read more and watch television less. I smile when I walk. Late in her life, Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote, “I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.”

 
Ann Voskamp continues, “Musicians play one right note after the next right note after the next right note. It’s not an erratic splattering of sound or a fickle, helter-skelter banging of random notes. Music has order. It is composed. The notes played are intentional, considered, and deliberate. Lives that have rhythm sing. They don’t survive — they thrive…. Consistently keep the same soul rhythms every day, and you grow deeper into Him, the One who will reweave your soul into glory.” As we play each simple note, one after another, may the melody bring peace to others, and to our own souls…may it inspire us to thrive in each ordinary day.