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When You Find Yourself in a Storm of Spiraling Emotions

When You Find Yourself in a Storm of Spiraling Emotions

September 16, 2020 by Mary Carver

I stared at the screen, shocked. My head felt as if it were physically spinning, though I knew I was standing as still as I’d been the moment before I saw the post. I tried to evaluate my emotional and mental states.

What was I feeling?
Was I mad?
Was I sad?
Was I hurt, frustrated, disappointed?

Yes to all of it. Check “all of the above,” because I felt all those things — and more. I felt betrayed and despondent. And most of all, I felt uncertain about what to do next. How was I supposed to react to this situation? How did I want to respond? And was it possible those two answers would resemble one another in the slightest?

Minutes after seeing this social media post that pierced my heart, I was scheduled to attend a Zoom call. At first I thought it might be the perfect distraction from my pain, or possibly even a way to get over all the myriad emotions swirling around my heart and brain.

Spoiler alert: It was not. I did not get over it. At least, not in the thirty minutes immediately following the thing that hurt me. I’m not sure why I thought I could fix a broken heart in a few minutes, although I’m blaming wishful thinking and a good four decades of stuffing my feelings down deep whenever I — or others — deemed them unacceptable.

But this time, I couldn’t “get over it.” I was hurt! I was sad! And angry! And scared and disappointed and — oh my goodness, the list of my emotions seemed endless on that afternoon. No wonder I couldn’t move past them in the blink of an eye (or a swipe of the screen)!

The specifics of what hurt me that day don’t matter here. Because while it was a specific person who took a specific action that led to my pain that day, it wasn’t the first time (and certainly won’t be the last) I found myself in a cyclone of emotion, unsure how to react, what would “fix” things, or even which way was up. And I know I’m not alone in this experience. You’ve felt this sort of pain, too, haven’t you?

What matters is that on that day, God gently and generously whispered, “Stop. Take a moment. Let it out. I’m here.” He pushed the pause button on my agitation cycle, pulling me away from the feeling-stuffing and problem-fixing, opening His arms to hold me as I let it all out.

And He’ll do the same for you the next time you find yourself in a storm of emotion.

Jesus was no stranger to emotions when He walked on earth. In John 11, we see the story of His reaction to the death of His friend, Lazarus. Both Lazarus’s sisters — Mary and Martha — cry out to Jesus when He arrives, saying, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died!” (John 11:32 CSB)

When the women express their despair that way, Jesus doesn’t reprimand them. He doesn’t suggest they calm down or instruct them to do something productive with their emotions. He holds space for them and comforts them; He grieves for them and even weeps with them.

As soon as Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and told him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died!”

When Jesus saw her crying, and the Jews who had come with her crying, he was deeply moved in his spirit and troubled. “Where have you put him?” he asked.

“Lord,” they told him, “come and see.”

Jesus wept.
John 11:32-35 (CSB)

Jesus knew that in a moment, He would raise Lazarus from the dead. He knew Mary and Martha’s grief would be short-lived and followed with incredible joy. But He didn’t expect them not to feel their feelings, and He didn’t require that they calm down or manage their emotions. Rather, He welcomed their honesty and complexity, offering acceptance and compassion in response.

The Lord will do the same for you and me.

In those moments when we are punched in the gut with something painful, God invites us to take our every emotion to Him. He doesn’t demand we get it together first; He doesn’t require us to tone it down. He simply says, “Come to me. Take a moment and rest your soul here.”

He will give us strength and wisdom and remind us that He will fight for us and finish the good work He’s started in our lives. But right now, when you’re reeling and feeling the sting of your pain, He invites you to let it out. Feel your feelings. Pour out your broken heart. He will hold all of it — all of you — gently. He will be with you in the storm.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: emotions, Everyday Faith

God Made Introverts for an Amazing, Powerful Purpose

September 15, 2020 by Holley Gerth

My phone lights up with a late-night confession filled with questions from Taylor Thomas, a fellow introvert who’s dear to me, someone who’s likable and smart, funny and kind. She confesses, “Sometimes I truly wonder why God made me this way,” then asks, “Have you ever dealt with that?”

My answer? Yes, I have sometimes questioned who I am too.

I grew up as a quiet, creative kid, who loved reading books (and dreamed of one day writing one). I enjoyed time on my own but cared about people too, creating a little circle of close friends. I needed time to think before I jumped into a conversation. People often told me I was a good listener. My active mind was always thinking or imagining.

Yet in spite of these strengths, I often wondered, like Taylor, if I needed to change. Maybe I should be louder or better at smaller talk. Fear sometimes still got the best of me. But trying to be someone I wasn’t only made me lonelier and led me to the brink of burnout.

After an especially exhausting year, I sensed God inviting me to stop running from who He created me to be, and instead learn how to thrive as an introvert. I read hundreds of articles, brain science studies, and books on introversion. Pursued a master’s degree in counseling, became a certified life coach, and wrote bestsellers. Collected advice, new and ancient, from introverts all over the world.

I discovered being an introvert isn’t about personality but how our brains and nervous systems are wired. (Three very quick examples: Introverts and extroverts differ in the primary neurotransmitter we rely on, part of the nervous system we use most, and the brain pathway utilized for processing.)

When I look at the creation story I see many complementary pairings, day and night, land and sea, male and female. I’ve come to believe introverts and extroverts are another one of these pairings. We are created as introverts and extroverts, both with incredible gifts and potential.

Research shows what introverts see as struggles may actually be their greatest strengths. For example, introverts have very responsive nervous systems. This means we’re vulnerable to anxiety but it also means we often have deep empathy for others. We use a longer, more complex brain pathway so we sometimes need more time to respond, but when we do we add depth and insight to conversations.

Leadership studies show introverts perform equally well as extroverts. Introverts often have deep social networks based on quality over quantity, including long-term relationships that significantly add to their overall physical and psychological health. And introverts contribute generously and creatively to our culture. So many world-changing causes, works of art, and innovations wouldn’t exist without the quiet efforts of introverts.

I believe our noisy, chaotic world needs what introverts have to offer more than ever before. We are here for such a time as this, created on purpose for a purpose. If you ever question who you are too, or someone in your life does, that can start changing today.

On a lovely autumn evening months after Taylor sent me the text I mentioned at the start of this chapter, she walked down a grass-covered aisle as a stunning bride. After the ceremony, all the guests joined the newlyweds in a barn with tiny lights strung from the rafters.

As I watched Taylor dance in her white dress, I thought, There is a woman who knows how much she’s loved. Despite the setting, I wasn’t thinking of love in the romantic sense. Over the previous few months, I’d gotten to be part of Taylor’s taking steps toward becoming more at peace with her true self, beginning to see her introversion not as a reason for insecurity but as a divine gift—a source of her strengths. She looked freer and happier, more whole and at rest.

God calls us a bride, which has always been mysterious to me, but that moment watching Taylor on the dance floor helped me better understand the analogy. Because what I saw in her is what I think He wants for each of us.

To know we’re made “in an amazing and wonderful way” (Ps. 139:14 NCV).

To be not only comfortable but quietly confident in our skin.

 


Holley’s brand new book, The Powerful Purpose of Introverts: Why the World Needs You to Be You, officially releases today! Bestselling author Ann Voskamp described it as, “Practical, researched, and profoundly helpful.” This week is your very last chance to get $75+ of free bonuses (the audiobook, Holley’s popular mini-course, and a personal strengths assessment)! Fill out this form and she’ll send the bonuses your way.

 

To celebrate, we’re giving a $50 gift card to Dayspring.com. To enter, purchase the book and leave a comment telling us where you bought it.

Giveaway ends 9/20/20 at 11:59 pm CST. Open to US addresses only.

Filed Under: Books We Love, Encouragement Tagged With: Holley Gerth, introvert, Recommended Reads, The Powerful Purpose of Introverts

If You’re Just Plain Weary from Life’s Difficult Changes

September 14, 2020 by Kristen Strong

We’re so deep into summer now that the outline of fall is clearly visible in front of us, and today I’m neck-deep in yet another unforeseen change within this maddening year that is 2020. I’ve had it up to here, and I tell God as much. I mean, it should be enough that we have a global pandemic and national unrest and a political divide wider than the Grand Canyon. But no. Several more problems closer to home are here too. This shouldn’t surprise me, I know. After all, it’s not like job stresses or relationship issues or family discord take a summer vacation. It’s not like the enemy looks you or me up and down and says, “Yeah, she’s had enough for today. Let’s leave her alone.” No, he’s an opportunist, and he relishes kicking us again and again when we’re already down.

Still, when something brand new — and awful, I might add — slides into the home plate of Team Strong, I just about take off running up Pike’s Peak.

It’s amazing how change-upon-change can find your doorstep when you just wish it would lose your address.

Our summer has brought us moments of sparkling goodness, like my husband and I celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. But it also brought less desirable moments too, including many tears lost because of difficult, I-didn’t-ask-for-this change. And lately, like a sibling squabble that keeps circling back to my attention, the difficult parts have hung around much too long, grossly overstaying their welcome.

I’m not only annoyed, frustrated, or put out by this. I’m devastated and just plain heart-weary.

In the past, it’s my nature to resist allowing the difficult parts of my life to have a seat at the table, to just push them right back out of the room. I fear that if I spend a little time with them, they will grow and take up even more space in my life. So I both pep-talk and chastise myself by saying things like, Get over it, Kristen. This isn’t the end of the world. People deal with a whole lot worse all the time.

Ironically, the more I try to push the difficult realities away, the more they cement themselves to the curves of my heart.

Unlike past times, the persistence of these difficulties and the weariness of my heart means I just don’t have the energy to shoo them away. I don’t have the energy to do anything but simply sit with them and bring them to the light of Christ.

Walk as children of the light . . . when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light.
Ephesians 5:8, 13 (ESV)

When we give our difficult circumstances attention rather than deflection, it exposes them to the light of Christ. Simultaneously, it reduces the dark’s power over them.

But this means we have to do the work of walking through it, of first keeping company with the harsh parts of our circumstances so we can introduce them to the power of Jesus. One might think that giving the darker parts of our life circumstances room to flex and breathe pushes hope away. But instead, it becomes the window through which Hope enters.

There is power in bringing the dark into the Light and letting the love and care of Jesus show us how to deal with it.

I want to be aware of the darkness but identify with the light.
Emily P. Freeman, Simply Tuesday

I can be thankful for the abundant good in my life and still be unafraid to call the hard realities what they are — hard. 

I can be joyous about my blessings without pretending the hard doesn’t exist. I can walk as a child of the light because I refuse to just get over the difficulties in my life; I get through them. And getting through them can’t happen till I acknowledge them and bring them front and center into the presence of Jesus first and then into the presence of other safe folks as well.

Life will always be a rhythm of light and dark, easy and difficult realities dancing the two-step together. But within it all, we are growing in grit, perseverance, and resilience. We are growing good things that wouldn’t push through the stubborn earth without it.

And over it all is God’s promise, bending like a rainbow across the sky over our tired hearts, offering us a gentle place to land and rest in Him.

If you’re looking for a reliable place to regularly see the light within your change, check out Kristen’s new Instagram account!

Filed Under: Change Tagged With: Fear, grit, hope, pain, Perseverance, struggle

Praying for All of Us

September 13, 2020 by (in)courage

I’m in my car, driving early on a Thursday morning, when the young woman behind me flashes her lights. Am I going too slow for her? Daring to drive 40 mph because that’s the speed limit? That must be so because she’s trying to pass me, looking impatient when I glance in my rearview mirror to see what she wants. Suddenly, she switches lanes and swerves around me and zips around the next two cars. Seconds later, she swerves back into my lane, speeding ahead only to catch the next red light — along with everyone else she had passed.

My first reaction, sadly, is typical: What is her problem?

It’s the question of the hour these days. Not what is my problem, but what’s the other guy’s issue? We’ve settled into “us vs. them” thinking, knowing full well there’s nothing godly about such a crotchety mindset. I’m guilty, too. More than not, I can be far more concerned about my own life than someone else’s.

The Holy Spirit, however, is our gracious guide. Before the light changes and the young woman screeches off, I find myself heeding His loving nudge to take a second look. Soon a thought occurs: What if this young woman is in trouble or facing an emergency? Maybe she’s racing to the hospital or rushing to work to battle a real crisis or to face unfair criticism.

I can’t know answers to such questions, but I see clearly what I can do. I can pray. Why? Because it is right. Why right? Because God calls us to pray. Jesus, speaking to His sleepy disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane, urged it this way:

Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.
Matthew 26:41 (NIV)

The Apostle Paul, likewise, in his letter to Timothy, said this:

I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people.
1 Timothy 2:1 (NIV)

That’s exactly what I need to hear this morning. Watch and pray. For all people. Not watch and complain, gripe, put down, or suspect the worst of others. The temptation to go negative is so powerful, as Jesus knew, that He calls us to watch out for that risk and then to pray — fervently and sincerely.

So that’s what I yielded to do. Considering the young driver as she slammed on the gas, her car shrieking off, I whispered three heartfelt little words: “Help her, Lord.”

After all, she was in distress. And me? I needed a more loving outlook. I also need daily prayer myself. So help her, Lord. Then, O God, help me.

Funny how praying for somebody else circles back graciously to me — yes, to all of us.

A writer friend, Amy Julia Becker, speaks of that encircling prayer grace in her latest book, White Picket Fences: Turning Toward Love in a World Divided by Privilege. She reflects on the line in the Lord’s Prayer that says, “Give us this day our daily bread,” and she writes:

What pops out to me is the corporate nature of those words. It isn’t “Give me this day my daily bread” or “Give my family our daily bread.” [Instead] Jesus instructs us to pray very differently. His prayer includes me, but it is so much bigger than me. Give us. All of us. . . . I’m not just praying for what I need . . . It’s about entering into the needs of others and imploring for all of us.

That includes a young woman I don’t know who was racing through life on that early morning, obviously needing something. First, however, the Lord says she needs Him — so, pray for her. The instruction is so clear, I can’t miss it.

Thus, I humbly propose the same to us this morning. Let us pray. Pray, indeed, for all of us because we all need Him. Even if we don’t vote the same, don’t look the same, don’t pray the same. Or if our problems can seem complicated and a little crazy, and we’re not always sure how to explain them.

Even so, let us pray. 

In the comments below, you’re invited to state your prayer request and pray for the person who commented above you. Let us pray.

This post was originally written by Patricia Raybon in November 2018. 

Filed Under: Prayer Tagged With: prayer

How to Encourage Someone When You Feel Stuck and Far Apart

September 12, 2020 by Becky Keife

One of my best friends had a miracle baby last month. I haven’t been able to hug my friend or hold her tiny bundle of joy. I haven’t been able to sit on her couch, linger over a cup of tea, and hear how she is really doing while our boys shoot backyard hoops. I dropped off a meal and stood six feet back on her front walkway as we chatted for a few moments. I peered across the gap that felt like miles into my friend’s tired eyes and shouted through the muffling of my mask what a beautiful and amazing mama she is.

Oh, how I long to encourage her.

My sister is about to turn forty. I pictured driving four hours north to surprise her. I’d take her out for boba and pedicures, then we’d head to the movies to watch something on the big screen with an ample supply of Red Vines. But nail salons and movie theatres are closed, and my sister is cautiously keeping her distance to protect her family.

Oh, how I long to celebrate her.

Another friend is struggling in her marriage.
Another friend is heavy with grief over racial injustice.
Another friend just got a promotion while someone else was laid off.
Another friend is drowning in homeschool.
Another friend just got a horrible prognosis.

And more than anything I just long to be there for each of them — to drive to the other side of town or travel across the miles, to show up on each doorstep with their favorite coffee, a box of tissues, and a fiercely warm hug.

In Romans 12:15 Paul says, “Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.”

I’ll be honest, friends. It’s hard right now to fulfill these instructions the way my heart longs to. In my state and county, COVID numbers are still soaring and restrictions are high. The flexibility I used to have during school hours is now different as I shepherd my three boys through distance learning. And though I’m thirty-eight-years-old, sometimes I just want to stomp my feet and whine about it in my very own grown-up tantrum because I can’t comfort, connect with, and encourage my friends and loved ones the way I want to. (Mature, I know. Please don’t tell my kids.)

But then I remember a few more of Paul’s wise words. How he said “let us not get tired of doing good” (Galatians 6:9) and “everyone should look not to his own interests, but rather to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4).

The truth I have to remember is that encouraging others isn’t about me. It’s not about how I prefer to engage, build up, come alongside, and cheer on. Encouragement is about the receiver. What do they need? How does God want to use me to partner with Him in helping meet that need?

Maybe like me you’ve been feeling a bit stuck in your own longing and frustration and “if only I could love and encourage someone in this particular way” pining. Well, today’s the perfect day to cast off the shackles of “I wish things weren’t like this” and lean into a new way of building up a friend, neighbor, sister, or even a stranger.

Today is National Day of Encouragement, and if ever there was a year people in our lives needed encouragement, 2020 has got to be it!

Instead of thinking of all the ways I can’t encourage others right now, I’m celebrating the ways I can:

  • Send a text with a favorite verse.
  • Pray with someone over the phone.
  • Drop off a meal or bag of groceries.
  • Look someone in the eyes instead of just passing by.
  • Say thank you and compliment the grocery store clerk, drive-thru worker, or the person who lives in your home.

And perhaps my favorite way to hug a friend when I can’t physically wrap my arms around them is to send a snail-mail card. Words of affirmation scrawled in your very own handwriting — even if it’s messy like mine — is a gift of encouragement sure to touch someone’s heart in times of both joy and sorrow.

A card says, I thought of you. A card says, You matter to me. A card says, You are loved and valuable and not forgotten.

Join me today on National Day of Encouragement and send a card (or two or ten) to someone who needs to know they are seen — by you and by God. (I especially love The Struggle Bus card line from DaySpring.)

Worry weighs us down; a cheerful word picks us up.
Proverbs 12:25 (MSG)

Let’s be women who love well, encourage freely, and pick others up with our words.

Filed Under: Encouragement Tagged With: cards, Holidays, letters, National Day of Encouragement

God Has Not Forgotten Our Grief

September 11, 2020 by (in)courage

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.
2 Corinthians 1:3-5 (CSB)

As we remember those we lost on this day nineteen years ago, let’s sit in these words from 2 Corinthians. The Father of mercies and the God of all comfort is with us. He has not forgotten our grief nor the pain that continues to linger from the aftermath of tragedy. And as we are comforted by Him, may we offer the same tenderness to others today.

Filed Under: 9/11 Tagged With: 9/11, patriot day

The Fight for Community Is Always Worth It

September 10, 2020 by Karina Allen

I like to be the one who shows up — the one who serves and gives and meets a need. Although I have become much better at receiving, it doesn’t come naturally. I don’t like to come across as needy or dependent. But the Lord has been showing me that that is exactly how He wants us to be. He wants us to be in need of Him — the giver of every good and perfect gift. He supplies every need we could ever have, and many times He does so through the Church — the body of Christ.

It’s okay to need people and depend on them because that’s how it’s supposed to be.

I have had friends over the years who heard from the Lord and blessed me with finances, groceries, rides, help with moving, and even places to live. Every single time, I felt loved and seen and cared for by God and my community.

However, over the last couple of months, I’ve needed community in a different way. My heart needed them. I longed for connection, but my flesh put up a huge fight to try to push people away. I became withdrawn though I couldn’t hide my emotions from them. My community could tell my joy had faded. They could see I was sad, and they became concerned.

One day, I sat in a friend’s kitchen and sobbed while trying to explain my heartache. Another friend texted me almost every day for a week despite my not responding. Another did the same, and we eventually met for lunch. Yet another met me for coffee. My pastor’s wife reached out, and we were able to connect. Several others friends even gathered and prayed for me at my church’s weekly prayer meeting when I wasn’t there.

In those encounters, I wept as I shared my hurt and I was met with nothing but love, grace, and compassion. There were hard truths spoken, challenges issued, and encouragement poured out like oil. It was all so beautiful!

Needless to say, I was blown away by the response of my church and awed by the love of God I felt through them. They carried me like the friends who carried and lowered the paralytic man through the roof in Luke 5:17-26.

There are no details given about the man except that he was paralyzed. We know nothing about his family’s involvement in his life nor about his character or lack thereof. The only thing we know is that he needed healing, and his friends made a way to get him to Jesus.

 When Jesus saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.”
Luke 5:20 (NIV)

It’s not always our faith that brings healing. When Jesus saw the friends’ faith, He healed the paralytic man — physically and spiritually. In my mind, I imagine this man must have been paralyzed for years, that he tried everything he could think of to get healed. He may have spent all the money he had on treatments that by the time Jesus came to his town, he was desperate and hopeless.

But his friends were not. He may have run out of faith, but they were full of faith. In fact, they had enough faith for him. They believed that Jesus was who He said He was and that He could do what He said He could do. As a result, their faith made the miracle of healing possible for their paralyzed friend.

I hadn’t experienced that kind of persistent love from a church community before. As they met me and encouraged me, I felt like Moses in Exodus 17 when Aaron and Hur held up his arms when he was too weary. I felt tired and defeated, and the enemy came for me with a vengeance, trying to keep me away from the very people I needed. But my community rose up like an army to defend me. They wielded the sword of the Spirit on my behalf and spoke God’s promises over me. They didn’t give up on me, and they wouldn’t let me give up.

Community is messy and hard, but it is also beautiful and life-giving. The fight for it will always be worth it.

We need each other, and we are truly better together.

How have you experienced the persistent love of a church community?

Filed Under: Church Tagged With: church, Community, compassion, Grace, help, needs, needy

An Act of Courageous Joy

September 9, 2020 by (in)courage

And a woman in the town who was a sinner found out that Jesus was reclining at the table in the Pharisee’s house. She brought an alabaster jar of perfume and stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to wash his feet with her tears. She wiped his feet with her hair, kissing them and anointing them with the perfume.
Luke 7:37-38 (CSB)

Does any other physical sign show brokenness like weeping? The woman who anointed Jesus’ feet with perfume in Luke 7 shows how beautiful our brokenness can be. She knew she was a sinner, and so did everyone else in the room. She was known for her sins all over town, making her a social outcast. But her brokenness didn’t keep her from Jesus. She knew she would not be cast out with Him. She knew He was the One who would save her.

Desperate to show her gratitude, she brought an incredibly expensive bottle of perfume and anointed her Lord. The aroma no doubt filled the noses of everyone in the room while her weeping filled their ears. Her actions in this moment would have seemed improper to everyone watching, but she clearly did not mind. Unlike those around her, she understood the debt Jesus forgave, and this made her courageous in front of those who would usually make her hang her head in shame. She was no longer overcome with brokenness but with gratitude. Her brokenness became beautiful when she encountered her Lord.

The Pharisee who was hosting Jesus for dinner that night did not see this brokenness and courage as a beautiful thing, however. He didn’t immediately understand Jesus’ response to this woman. Doesn’t Jesus know what a sinner she is?, he wondered. How dare she carry on that way? How dare He let her do so? Given her reputation around town, doesn’t He know what this looks like?

Jesus answered with a parable of two forgiven debtors, one who owed much more than the other. His story made sense of why the woman was so emotional, and also why Jesus accepted her grand display of gratitude as a beautiful gift instead of a waste of money or an improper gesture.

Turning to the woman, he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she, with her tears, has washed my feet and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but she hasn’t stopped kissing my feet since I came in. You didn’t anoint my head with olive oil, but she has anointed my feet with perfume. Therefore I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; that’s why she loved much. But the one who is forgiven little, loves little.” Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
Luke 7:44-48 (CSB)

The woman knew her sins well; she knew just how much mercy she’d been given. And she wanted to lavish that same amount of love back onto the One who’d freed her. But the Pharisee, unsure of Jesus’ power and perhaps unwilling to admit the depth of his own sins, hadn’t experienced that same grace and therefore could not comprehend offering adoration with such abandon. Jesus’ take on things pinpointed the problem: the Pharisee couldn’t express an overwhelming level of love because he had not experienced that level of forgiveness.

In our so-called polite society, emotional displays are often sneered at, judged as messy and unnecessary, or even offensive. That wide brush paints all sorts of behaviors as “too much,” whether it comes in the form of hands raised too high during worship, off-key voices singing too loudly, a flood of tears pouring out during a sermon, or exclamations of “praise Jesus” in average conversations.

But why? Why do we value the reserved responses to Jesus and ridicule the expressive ones? Is it only that the noisy, wet sounds of weeping offend our sense of modesty and propriety, or could it also be that it forces us to confront our own mess? That it brings us face to face with our own shame, our own hidden sin, removing our ability to pretend as if we’re doing just fine by ourselves? Does encountering someone who radiates joy and praise make us uncomfortable because we secretly wish that were true of us? Does witnessing an overtly enthusiastic exchange of shame and guilt for mercy and grace make it clear that we are missing something? That perhaps we’ve gotten it all wrong?

When the Pharisee invited Jesus to his home, he probably expected to impress the teacher with a delicious dinner, beautiful presentation, or prominent dinner companions. He stood tall and proud, adopting the posture of judge and jury when the sinful woman dared to enter his home, kneel behind Jesus, and offer all she had. Instead, Jesus turned toward this woman, prostrate with her messy display of unfettered emotion and raised her up as an example. He accepted her offering and assured her of His mercy and forgiveness.

Can you recall the last time you wept? Do you remember the circumstances that brought you to your knees either literally or figuratively? Did you feel relief as you let go of any pretense that you were okay, as you confessed with your tears that you needed comfort or forgiveness?

No matter what you are holding onto or hiding deep within your heart today, you are invited to bring it to Jesus. Our Savior will take it from you and turn everything hard and bitter and ugly into something lovely and beautiful and pleasing.

By Mary Carver, edited from the Women of Courage: a Forty-Day Devotional, from the (in)courage community.

Filed Under: Courage Tagged With: Courageous Joy, women of courage, Women of Courage Forty-Day Devotional

God’s Goodness in the Waiting Rooms of Life

September 8, 2020 by April Barcalow

The symptoms had started slowly enough: headaches, muscle aches, and fatigue that seemed insurmountable. When their impact on my life became undeniable, I began the quest for answers. But it was only the beginning. In the months that followed, an entire cacophony of symptoms would replace the music of my life. My muscles grew fatigued after standing or walking. I had trouble swallowing, difficulty sleeping. I had tremors and numbness and tingling. Blurred vision made it difficult to work, and brain fog kept me in a confused haze many days.

A progression of life changes followed. I relied on a cane daily. For longer distances, I often needed a wheelchair. A chair lift was installed in our house so that I could reach our bedroom on bad days. I went from full-time work to part-time to not working at all. During flare-ups, I managed only two or three hours of mild activity and was confined to the couch or bed for what was left of the day. I missed out on bike rides, hikes, and basketball games with my kids in the driveway. Many nights I was too exhausted to leave the couch. I frequently cancelled plans with friends because I was too ill to participate. Conversations with my husband sounded more like medical team discussions than those of a married couple. And I grieved. I grieved deeply all the things that I’d lost.

There were no answers for all the tests and studies and doctor’s visits. No answers for nearly three years.

Inevitably, the waiting rooms became the spaces that shaped my faith. In those quiet, long moments, I was alone with God and the questions. There were so many questions. The waiting rooms were my desert, my place of wandering and testing and learning what it meant to believe that God was good.

I’d heard all my life about His goodness. “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8 NIV). I’d heard all my life that His plans for me, His purposes for me, were good. “I know the plans I have for you, they are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11 NLT). I’d believed in His goodness, trusted in it, even encouraged others to remember it.

But in the waiting rooms, my God felt anything but good. I was angry and heartbroken and grieving. I felt deceived — after all, the plans unfolding in my life were anything but good. How could He promise goodness?

He could — if goodness didn’t mean simply good things.

I thought of my children, of my role as their mother. I knew that in order to be a good parent, I would have to let my children stumble and fall so they could learn. I would need to push them, to encourage them to grow. I would have to let them go through hard things — to avoid it would ruin them. I would need to walk with them, support them, teach them, and comfort them through difficult things. I would need to correct them at times. A child without discipline, without boundaries, without the opportunity to learn from mistakes is a child who is not thriving. There’s more to parenting than filling our kids’ lives with good things. This is the making of a good mother.

I thought of teachers. A teacher who fails to correct mistakes in math is not doing his students any favors. Neither is a teacher who never pushes the child, never teaches new things, never encourages the student to move beyond what is comfortable and easy into what allows them to grow and learn. This is the making of a good teacher.

So, what, I found myself asking, is the making of a good God? A God who spares me hardship and heartache? A God who only allows my life to be filled with good things, comfortable things? Why do I think a good God would be any different from a good teacher or a good mother? Where had I come up with the idea that God was only good if I was protected and sheltered and spared heartache?

That’s not the goodness of God at all.

Rather, God’s goodness is something much greater, much more beautiful. The goodness of God is a God who is unchanging, who never wearies (no matter how weary I am), who never slumbers. It’s a God who walks with me through the fire and water, never leaves my side, and wakes me each morning with the promise of new mercies. It’s a God who gently corrects me and guides me and who refuses to leave me in the messiness of my own wrong ideas and actions. It’s a God who has my wholeness in mind and not just my happiness. And wholeness requires growth — sometimes uncomfortable growth.

His goodness isn’t some kind of deceit. It’s not disappointed hope or misplaced trust. His goodness, instead, is a heart that has my very best — my very fullness — in mind. His goodness isn’t absent just because I am hurting. Actually, it’s more present than ever.
Our lives are full of waiting rooms: those solitary, heartbreaking places full of questions. We question God’s goodness. We question His heart. We question whether He can be trusted in our circumstance. But the God who is good in the easy times is the God who is also good in the waiting rooms of life, in the broken spaces. His goodness is so much more than just good things.

Filed Under: Encouragement Tagged With: God's goodness, Growth, pain, physical illness

If You’re Somewhere in the Messy Middle

September 7, 2020 by Kaitlyn Bouchillon

Several years ago, I followed an embroidery account on Instagram. The wild creativity and intricate detail drew me in, frequently resulting in wide-eyed wonder at the finished projects.

Over and over, I told myself, One day I’m going to try that and This will be the year. Over and over, my fingers scrolled social media, tapping “like” but never picking up a needle.

A few months ago, as the realization settled in that my new normal for the foreseeable future required a screen not only for work but for church and for all communication with family and friends, I knew something would have to give.

My eyes hurt from straining, my arms (much like my apartment) felt empty, and my feet were restless as they carried me from one end of the hallway to the other and back again with nowhere else to go.

I declared this to be “one day” and purchased a beginner’s embroidery kit. When the instructions arrived in another language, I turned to YouTube for tutorials on various stitches. Half an hour later, with a needle in one hand and a wooden hoop in the other, I began.

It was slow-going, confusing, messy, and, if my hand slipped (which it often did), painful. Just as I got the hang of one stitch, I’d find that the next portion required another, and so down went the needle as my YouTube search history grew.

It wasn’t until finishing the pattern that it became clear God was teaching me a lesson with every stitch. When thinking about posting a picture of my very first attempt at embroidery, the strangest thought crossed my mind:

I think I want to display the other side.

From the back — and I promise this is true — it’s nothing short of a mess. You might be wide-eyed with wonder, but it’s from wondering, What exactly am I looking at here?

It doesn’t line up or add up. There are threads in knots and threads unraveling. But when I flip back and forth, looking at one side and then the other, it’s the underbelly and the backside, the tangled mess that brings tears to my eyes.

I know this. I’ve lived it. In some ways, we’re all experiencing it together this year. There’s a great unraveling — a slow-going, confusing, messy, and sometimes painful unmaking.

But something, even here and even now, is being made in us. The other side of the hoop, and the whole of Scripture, tells me this is true.

The Bible opens with a beautiful, creative calling forth. “God said . . . and it was so.” Both the Old Testament and the New Testament agree, we were made in God’s image and declared His handiwork.

If God as an artist made you, then that makes you living, breathing art. Art that smiles and sings, wipes away tears and cooks dinner, tells stories and runs errands. Art that bleeds, art with wrinkles, art with kind eyes and laugh lines.

Art is what you do or make, yes, but it’s also who you are.

“God is not a technician. God is an Artist. This is the God who made you. The same God who lives inside of you. He comes into us, then comes out of us, in a million little ways. That’s why there’s freedom, even in the blah. Hope, even in the dark. Love, even in the fear. Trust, even as we face our critics. And believing in the midst of all that? It feels like strength and depth and wildflower spinning; it feels risky and brave and underdog winning. It feels like redemption. It feels like art.”
― Emily P. Freeman, A Million Little Ways

I think about this as the sun begins to set. I reach for my embroidery hoop and a new pattern, settle into the chair by the window, and pull the thread through as God paints the sky.

Soon, something will exist in what was once empty space. Little by little, stitch by stitch, something from nothing.

I might bleed a little or break a needle. There will be twisted threads and tangled knots. It’ll be messy. But it’ll be beautiful, too, because there’s always more to the story.

Years before embroidery entered my social media feed, I wondered how to best end my first book, the one that asks “Is God good in the messy middle?” The pages within refuse to accept an easy answer or cliche, but I’ll go ahead and spoil the ending: His goodness is woven all the way through. And so I wrote a prayer to close the book, giving it all back to the Answer I was looking for the entire time. It begins like this:

“Lord, help us to recognize that our story finds its meaning only in You. Show us that knowing the ending isn’t necessary for the here-and-now to be beautiful. Remind us that You turn messes into messages and tests into testimonies.”

He’s a kind Artist, a loving Father, a gentle Mother, the greatest of Storytellers. One day, the other side of the hoop will be revealed and we’ll all stand with wide-eyed wonder at the wild creativity and intricate detail of the One who wove us together (Psalm 139:13).

But for today, we simply believe. We wait with hope, we watch for redemption, and we trust that what looks like a mess is something beautiful in the making.

If you’re currently walking through a middle place, desperate to see God’s goodness in the chapters you wouldn’t have necessarily chosen, Even If Not: Living, Loving, and Learning in the in Between is for you. You have not been forgotten or overlooked. There is beauty, even here, and you are not alone.

Filed Under: Encouragement Tagged With: art, Even If Not, messy middle, storyteller

Love Over All: Love Believes

September 6, 2020 by (in)courage

When Jesus overheard what was said, he told the synagogue leader, “Don’t be afraid. Only believe.”
Mark 5:36 CSB

Every month of 2020, we’re featuring the Love Over All theme verse on the first Sunday of the month. We love everything about Love Over All (read more about it here) and can’t wait to share these amazing verses and ways to live them out with you!

September’s theme is Love Believes.

As this year continues on, it’s impossible to look away from the pain that keeps throbbing — in our nation, in our communities, in our homes and hearts. The chasm between people seems to be widening as disparities become more apparent and injustices keep happening with no end. Many of us are experiencing the loss of loved ones, jobs, and businesses and the stress that comes from working from home and helping our kids do school at home.

And in these times, how we view the world and others and God says a lot about where our faith really lies. Do we believe God is in control? Do we believe He is bigger than the problems we see and experience and that He knows when and how they will end? Do we believe He has the answers and can guide us through each struggle and controversy and loss?

Our heads may nod yes, but deep down inside, what we may need to pray is this: Jesus, make my heart believe.

This month, let’s practice putting our trust back into God’s hands over and over again. Let’s remind ourselves what Jesus said to the synagogue leader: “Don’t be afraid.” And let’s choose to believe — because Love Believes.

Filed Under: Love Over All Tagged With: #loveoverall, Love Believes

This Season Will Not Go to Waste

September 5, 2020 by Jennifer Ueckert

I have been working on a big art project for some time now — or at least trying to work on it, should be working on it. But I’m learning to be okay with how it’s coming together.

This project is a collection of art paired with love and encouragement from many different women. I have set my own deadlines just to see them come and go without much progress. When I was first putting together my ideas and plans for this project, I never would have expected it to take so long and still be such a work in progress at this point. That’s, of course, because I couldn’t have anticipated this difficult season in my life.

First, I had mono. That virus many people have in their teens — I got to suffer through as an adult. I had no idea adult mono was a thing. I had a bulging disk in my back, which after months of physical therapy several times a week decided to rupture. It has been a very long and painful recovery because I wanted to avoid surgery. Then, I spent endless months trying to figure out why I wasn’t feeling back to normal and why I had so much pain and fatigue. Never-ending doctor visits, blood tests, and medications, treating one thing at a time to rule out each possibility and trying to get all sorts of levels to normal eventually led to the diagnosis of an autoimmune connective tissue disease. I went through all of that while also being diabetic.

It took a good amount of time to realize this, but I can honestly say now that I have been learning so much in this season that I would’ve never chosen for myself. 

At first, I tried to keep up with my art, my business, and my social media for said art business. I worked hard at being present, but I quickly learned I just couldn’t keep up. There were more days than I could count when the art business was the last thing on my mind. I would apologize to to those involved in the project for the changes in my timeline, and I’d give all the reasons why I couldn’t work as usual, why I wasn’t posting on social media, why I didn’t have any new art out, why I couldn’t respond to people. It was exhausting and frustrating, and none of the stress was helping me.

I came to understand that I needed to change the way I thought about all of it. I could keep apologizing for things not going as I had hoped and planned, but could I keep doing so if it was God’s timing or His plan for my life right now?

I decided I’d no longer be apologizing for the season I was in. I had very little control over what was happening. I certainly didn’t ask for all these awful things to interrupt my plans, and I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I shouldn’t feel bad for taking care of myself, and I needed to accept that God had me in this season for a reason. I needed to slow down everything else, focus on my health and well-being, and be open to what I could learn from it all.

Life adjustments take time, and when I finally accepted that, I found such a sense of peace. 

Now when I’m asked questions I’m not able to answer, I say it will all come in God’s timing. It’s the truth. I’m learning to let go of the urgent need to get this project done as fast as possible and just let it come to be when it is time. I knew pushing ahead even when my heart wasn’t in it wouldn’t produce my best work nor would I be letting His light shine through me the best way I could. I’m learning to give myself grace along the way, and it has been the most beautiful of gifts.

I have to believe His timing is best. I don’t know how long this season will last, but I know what comes out of it will be wonderful and meaningful, and that is nothing to apologize about.

This is my journey. I want my art and this particular project to encourage others in difficult times, and I am learning through my own struggles that God has His reasons even if I can’t see what they are. This season will not go to waste.

Filed Under: Encouragement Tagged With: art, Healing, pain, physical illness, struggle, Time

Praying Through the News Headlines

September 4, 2020 by Jennifer Schmidt

During the 2016 elections, my husband asked our church’s Sunday school attendees to give their gut reactions to the news headlines placed before them on the tables. Avoiding any political discussions or expected church-type responses, he encouraged us to share emotions from the heart when we think through local, national, or world news.

One by one, we started to share: discouraged, disillusioned, heartbroken, hopeless, frustrated, angry, numb, hypocritical, sorrowful, lack of critical thinking skills, hopeful for the second coming, out of control, and the responses continued.

What could have been a potentially explosive discussion became a time of pointing our feelings toward this truth: God’s unchanging, infallible Word is the only plumbline that can help make sense of these days.

Regardless of where we stand politically or on issues of global importance, this year is another election year — a time when many of us have deep-seated feelings about things that are out of our ability to control or change what is happening. It only takes a few minutes on Facebook to find people spewing venom and reactions based on emotion, often without first taking time to check facts or sources. I can’t help but imagine that Satan celebrates each time believers act out, especially against each other.

In John 1:14, we are told that the Word became flesh and “was full of grace and truth.” Often, we forget that grace and truth must go hand in hand. I’ve felt a profound sense of conviction at how often I vent my frustrations and cynicisms before I first ask the Holy Spirit to equip me in my response and pray accordingly. We need to have grace toward one another and to hold onto the promises that stay true no matter what season we’re in.

Here’s what I’ve been reminding myself and maybe you need to hear this too: He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Nothing takes Him by surprise, so we can trust that He cares deeply for every decision. He is able to accomplish good, and His heart’s desire is that we seek and ask Him. That doesn’t mean that the headlines will change, but we know that He can use them for His glory.

I’m profoundly grateful that Jesus didn’t up and leave when the going got tough. He stood firm to the end and encouraged His disciples to do likewise. This is our opportunity to live faithfully in the midst of difficult times, to weep with those who weep, and to intercede on behalf of others.

Instead of reacting on emotion, join me in grabbing a Bible as we read the news for today. Let’s open God’s Word and use His truth as a plumbline to consider how we ought to engage with the world at large:

How do we fight against the principalities of this world? (see 2 Corinthians 10:3-5)

How do we show the world who Jesus is? (see Matthew 5:14-16)

What role does slander play in the news? What is tempting about slander? (Especially difficult when it’s presented as news, so pray for discernment.) What does Paul say to do? (see Ephesians 4:31-32)

For whom should we pray? Why? (see Matthew 5:44-45; 1 Timothy 2:1-4)

How can we know what to pray? (see Romans 8:26-27)

What does our heart attitude need to be for effective prayer? (see Isaiah 66:2b)

Also, consider the following as you pray through the headlines:

1. Pray the truth about God. He is sovereign and loving and able to answer our prayers about this topic. Speak that truth out loud in prayer. God already knows, but it helps us to declare that truth. Who does He say He is?

2. Do a heart check and ask yourself, “What attitude do I have about this topic?” Do I have anger or pride or some other response about this topic that will get in the way of my prayer? Do I have self-righteous or condemning thoughts? Ask God to forgive that attitude and help you overcome it.

3. Thank the Holy Spirit for leading us as we pray. Listen for Him to lead us now. (It’s okay to wait a bit as you listen for the Spirit to prompt you. Rest in the silence.)

4. Pray specifically for the people and the situations we read and see in the news. Pray for any change that might be needed — for salvation, for healing, for provision, for wisdom, for peace.

Now when my gut reacts in frustration and hopelessness, I open His Word. I commit to prayer and not just another “share.” I commit to bringing these news topics before the Lord, knowing that in the end He is the ultimate authority.

What are your prayers as you watch the news?

Filed Under: Prayer Tagged With: politics, prayer, Scripture

The Best Gift We Can Give to the Next Generation

September 3, 2020 by Jennifer Dukes Lee

Tears pooled in my eyes before I said a word to my daughter, even before I walked into the kitchen, where I found her sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of hot tea.

There were so many things I wanted to say to her, so many things I wanted her to remember. So many things I still wanted to teach her and show her. This girl at the table was my firstborn, arriving into the world in the shadow of 9-11 and here she was: only days away from leaving for her first year of college, while a global pandemic raged on.

All grown up, resilient, optimistic, hopeful.

I didn’t know how to let go. And in this moment, here in the kitchen, I didn’t know how I’d even make it through the words I wanted to say.

“Lydia, I have something to give you . . . ” I sputtered, and laid a Bible in her hands.

She looked perplexed. She already owned several Bibles, and she and I had been reading through the Bible in a year together, during her last year at home. So why would she need yet another Bible?

But this Bible was different. For many months, ever since she and I had been reading through the yearly Bible plan, I had written in the margins of nearly every page of this particular Bible that I had just now handed her.

And every note on those onion-skin pages was written especially for her.

Those words were my heart, inked onto the margins. They were all the things I still wanted her to remember, all the things I had hoped to teach her, and more importantly all the things that Jesus had taught me in my life.

“Lydia,” I wrote on the first page of the Bible, many months ago, “you’ll read a lot of books in your life ahead. May you hold the Bible closest to your heart! God is the author of your story.”

And then, day after day, I wrote and wrote, always praying for her as I moved through the pages, letting her know the verses I had clung to for years, and sharing fascinating new revelations as I re-read old stories through the lens of a pandemic.

Lydia always saw me writing, but she didn’t know that each journaled word was for her.

Some of it was deeply personal. Next to Psalm 6:6, I wrote, “I remember reading these verses when I was a teenage girl going through a hard time. I remember having a sense that God understood my tears and was right there with me. He is with you too, and sees every tear.”

Some if it was timely. Next to Colossians 2:14, a verse about canceling our debts, I wrote, “I am reading this verse during coronavirus quarantine. Isn’t this here the best cancellation notice of all?!”

Some of it was silly. “Do not name your child Jael.”

But mostly? It was everything I’d want her to know if I didn’t get to have another tomorrow. It’s what I’d wanted her to remember about me when I was gone from this earth — that the best thing about me was Jesus. And it’s what I wanted her to cling to when she inevitably got rocked by the storms of life; I want her to hold fast to God’s promises.

More and more, as months slip into years, and years slip into decades, I am convinced that the best thing we can give to the next generation is a deep sense of who they are in Christ and how great our God is. The best thing we can provide is a foundation of kindness, integrity, generosity, and faith.

That’s it. That’s all that matters.

What do you want the people you love to remember most about you and about God? What do you hope they hold onto when the storms of life inevitably roll in? Write it down. Write it in the margins of a Bible. Write it in a card. Write it in a journal. Write it on the back of a recipe card.

Write it on the hearts of everyone you love.

Life is short. Time is flying by. Let’s write it all down.

A few days after I placed that Bible in Lydia’s hands, we were standing side by side in a parking lot, tears running unabated down our cheeks. I looked her in the eye, told her how much I loved her. How I would always be here. How I would be waiting on the front step when she came home.

Then, I wrapped my arms around here, and held her as long and as tight as I could.

And then I let go, knowing God never would.

Filed Under: Motherhood Tagged With: Illustrating Bible, motherhood

Hope and Help When You Have Unanswered Questions

September 2, 2020 by Holley Gerth

I step onto the trail behind our home early one morning. The grass is still wet from sprinklers, the birds just starting to greet each other for the day, the bullfrogs around the pond sitting like sleepy sentries on the shore. I love the quiet of this time but my mind is loud and crowded with concerns and worries.

I ask questions that I imagine you’re asking too. What’s going to happen? How long will this last? What does the future hold? I don’t know the answers and God seems silent this morning. So I do the only thing I can: take one step forward, then another, and another. I pray as I do—messy, frustrated, confused prayers.

I think of one of my favorite Psalms, one I’d just reread in bed that morning. “Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again—my Savior and my God!” (Psalm 42:5 NLT) Can you relate to those words too?

I’d not looked at this Psalm in awhile and I became curious about how it ends. I was surprised to find the last verse is exactly the same as the one above, “Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again—my Savior and my God!” (Psalm 42:11).

I expected a neat bow tied around a truth, a restoration of confidence and certainty, a revelation that now everything would be different. But, no, the Psalmist still had the same questions. This is comforting to me right now in a season where so many questions don’t seem to have answers. It’s helpful to know that uncertainty doesn’t equal a lack of faith or trust.

What does the Psalmist do in the face of unanswered questions? He makes a choice. “I will put my hope in God…I will praise Him again.” One of the hardest parts of not knowing what’s ahead is that it makes us feel powerless. But that’s only an illusion. We can still choose our response.

Months ago on an overwhelming day when the news just seemed to be getting worse, I wrote a phrase on a piece of paper and put it on my desk where I could see it often. It said simply, “God is in control, and I am in charge.”

That is what we need to know when life is uncertain. God is still in control. He has not forgotten us. We have not been abandoned. He is with us, for us, working on our behalf even now. We can trust Him no matter what happens. He has also given us stewardship of our everyday lives—what we do with our energy and emotions, resources and relationships. We are not helpless. We can all ask ourselves like the Psalmist, “What will I do today?”

As an introvert, I find I need solitude to answer that question, which is why I went to the trail that morning. When life is noisy and the world chaotic, I can’t hear my soul or the whisper of God. We can look at solitude as selfish but it’s a sacred act of service. It’s what empowers us to keep moving forward, loving well, being brave, making wise choices.

Solitude can be hard to find, so as a life coach and counselor I recommend people schedule it into their day, even if it’s just a few moments. This can look like putting solitude on your calendar or creating a rhythm that lets you incorporate it into your life.

For example, fellow introvert, former Fixer Upper star, and entrepreneur Joanna Gaines says, “For an introvert like me, being alone for any amount of time recharges me. In the midst of a busy day I’ll sit in my car for a few extra minutes before coming inside just to enjoy a few minutes of rest or silence before jumping into whatever’s next.” All of us, introverts or extroverts, need at least a little solitude in our lives. And the busier we are, the more essential it becomes.

As I complete my route on the trail I, like the Psalmist, still have the same questions. But I feel calmer inside. I remember that even when I don’t know what the future, there is a mighty God who holds me.

I will put my hope in Him.

I will praise Him again.

Are you an introvert or do you love, lead, or share life with one? Then you need Holley’s popular new book, The Powerful Purpose of Introverts: Why the World Needs You to Be You. Bestselling author Ann Voskamp described it as, “Practical, researched, and profoundly helpful.” For a limited time, you’ll receive $75+ of free bonuses if you preorder (any version, from any retailer) and then fill out this form!

Filed Under: Encouragement Tagged With: hearing God's voice, introvert, peace, rest, retreat, Sabbath, Solitude

How God Has Provided for Us Since the Beginning

September 1, 2020 by Dawn Camp

Based on my family history, it’s no surprise I look for natural options and ways to eliminate our exposure to synthetic toxins whenever I can. My mother’s life was marked by poor health caused by medical procedures that filled her body with dangerous chemicals and the medications required to help her deal with the results.

For years she required a cane to walk and lived in debilitating pain, which controlled her life and prevented her from doing things I take for granted every day. I watched the slow deterioration of her health from my childhood until she passed away at 58 years old.

She never met my youngest daughter or her great-grandchildren. Other than my husband, my mother was my best friend, and her passing left a large hole in my life.

Nothing about my mother’s health was natural. I saw what a life dependent on medication and medical intervention looked like; it was tragic. When my husband and I took childbirth classes during my first pregnancy, I broke out in a cold sweat and made a quick exit the week we talked about pain medication. I got sick in the hallway because I couldn’t make it to the bathroom on time. I was more worried about pain medication than pain.

For years I lived with headaches and thyroid problems and took prescription and often over-the-counter medication daily. In 2015 I turned to essential oils at a time when I was stressed, my hormones were out of whack, I wasn’t sleeping well, and I was dealing with unexplained pain. I had recently entered the world of book publishing. Two of our boys were about to get married. I was thrown into new roles and responsibilities as the mother-of-the-groom (times two), and my stress level was off the charts. The phrase “stress kills” popped into my head a lot, which wasn’t a good sign.

One evening, at the end of another stressful day, I decided if there was any chance essential oils could help, then I was willing to give them a try. I’m so thankful I did! The combination of therapeutic-grade essential oils and a wonderful chiropractor changed my life.

Encouraged by my family’s positive experiences with essential oils, I began to study them and how they affect the human body. The research is fascinating. God is an intelligent designer. He not only created us but also provided these tools to help us live happier, healthier, and more abundant lives.

In the past, people spent more time outdoors and in contact with plants and the oils the plants produced. God provided them for our use and benefit. Why would He design us in such a way that we could only function properly with the assistance of man-made products and inventions?

It just doesn’t make sense.

Although I initially turned to essential oils for help with pain and stress, I discovered many additional uses, including:

  • chemical-free alternatives for cleaning and for health and beauty products
  • replacements for over-the-counter medicines
  • potent and easy-to-store herbs and spices for cooking options for flavoring water
  • ingredients in DIY gifts, such as bath salts and sugar scrubs
  • help with calming a child
  • perfume
  • immune system boosters
  • a natural air freshener in a diffuser
  • sleep improvement and relaxation aid
  • things to refresh my spirit

I designed It All Began in a Garden as a guide to fifty essential oils and their uses. Not only do they possess the power to positively affect the body, but they can also promote peace of mind, transform mood, or enable focus of thoughts and energy. As we explore each oil, I pray you’ll see ways it can benefit you, whether you are an experienced user or discovering this world of possibilities.

You will be amazed by the hidden benefits of the plants that surround us! I hope the stories in this book open your eyes to God’s provision in new, exciting ways and always point you toward the Great Physician.


Essential oils are rapidly growing in popularity due to their many physical and emotional health benefits. What the world has forgotten is these natural remedies have been around since the beginning and were given to us by God for our greater well-being.

This practical and informative guide featuring beautiful photography from Dawn Camp introduces you to 50 essential oils and their vast array of uses, including pain and stress relief, aiding in weight loss, increasing focus and memory, and much more! You will discover easy DIY recipes for homemade scrubs, balms, and lotion bars, and inspiration and encouragement from Dawn throughout.

Rediscover the good things God created and nurture your physical and spiritual health with this one-of-a-kind resource.

Filed Under: Books We Love, Encouragement Tagged With: essential oils, Recommended Reads

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