But the Lord Stood by My Side

But the Lord Stood by My Side

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I sat in shock listening. Someone I considered to be a friend had been upset with me for months, and she had been talking about me with a couple of mutual friends.

We had served together on a ministry leadership team at our church for years. Both of us had volunteered countless hours pouring our hearts and our lives into the women of our church. All the while, I assumed we fully supported one another.

But a friend had told her I didn’t agree with her leadership style based on something I’d said in a meeting many months before, when I had been asked to share my perspective on something. She hadn’t been at the meeting, and sadly, what I’d said was taken out of context, repackaged and presented to her in a way that sounded like I had been talking about her. I hadn’t. But instead of coming to me, she’d gone to others to process her hurt.

“Why didn’t someone stand up for me?” I wondered.

In one of his letters to Timothy, the apostle Paul describes a time when life and ministry got really hard. He had been slandered, and no one came to his defense or supported him. Instead, they deserted him.

Yet in the midst of feeling hurt by others and abandoned by friends, Paul tells Timothy that God stood with him and gave him the strength to keep standing in the place where God had called him.

My pain deepened with the realization that someone I knew had spoken against me, but no one stood up for me. Feeling all alone, I started to plan my exit strategy from the leadership team. I didn’t want anything to do with women or ministry if this was where it got me.

But somehow, in the midst of my tears and brokenness, the Holy Spirit reminded me of Jesus — how He had been misunderstood and misrepresented by people He loved. Friends hurt Him, betrayed Him, and abandoned Him, yet He stayed.

He stayed where God put Him — in messy ministry, broken relationships, and hard circumstances. But most of all, Jesus stayed on the cross so we would never have to stand alone.

With God’s strength and the encouragement of a friend, I decided not to quit women’s ministry. Instead, I stayed on the leadership team and worked through hard conversations about what had happened. I forgave those who hurt me. And I took time to heal and slowly trust again. I stayed present in my role and also tried to stay aware in conversations and discern when it was wise to share or hold my opinion in a group setting.

Broken relationships are hard. Betrayal and hurt happen. And I guess today, I just wanted to encourage you that no matter what you are facing at home, work, in your family or friendships — if you are walking through circumstances that have you feeling misunderstood, betrayed, abandoned, or uncertain, there is one thing you can be absolutely sure of: you are NOT alone!

God is with you. He is for you. And He will never, ever leave you.

I pray these words that Paul wrote in his letter to Timothy will bring you the comfort and courage they brought to me:

But the Lord stood by my side and gave me strength . . . 
2 Timothy 4:17a (NIV)

Is God calling you to stay in a position or circumstance you’d rather leave? Is there a relationship, hard conversation, or place of advocacy that leaves you weary and ready to give up? Share in the comments so we can pray for you today.

 

The Healing Posture of Humility

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When it comes to favorite books of the Bible, it’s an unusual choice, but Nehemiah has always been my husband’s favorite.

Perhaps it’s the fact that he works in construction and much of Nehemiah’s thirteen chapters center around the rebuilding of Jerusalem’s walls. The book talks about tools and processes, each section of the wall going back up one at a time. Or maybe it’s because of the concerted team effort, and Nehemiah’s leadership role in gathering everyone to the task. Everyone had to do their part, or the job wouldn’t get done.

Regardless of the reasons, my husband’s love of Nehemiah’s story has become my own. I, too, have spent a good deal of time reading and reflecting on the story of this man who felt burdened to rebuild what had been broken (2 Kings 25).

But what captures my heart most of all, especially in this hard season in which we find ourselves, is Nehemiah’s prayerful posture: humility.

Lord, the God of heaven, the great and awesome God, who keeps his covenant of love with those who love him and keep his commandments, let your ear be attentive and your eyes open to hear the prayer your servant is praying before you day and night for your servants, the people of Israel. I confess the sins we Israelites, including myself and my father’s family, have committed against you. We have acted very wickedly toward you. We have not obeyed the commands, decrees and laws you gave your servant Moses.
Nehemiah 1:5-7 (NIV) 

I confess.

We have acted wickedly.

We have not obeyed.

What fascinates me most about Nehemiah’s confessions is that decades separated him from the destruction of Jerusalem. Although the Babylonians tore down the walls, God made it clear that the battle and Israel’s subsequent enslavement was a direct result of their disobedience to God and their breaking of His covenant. They had rebelled against God. Thus, God gave them over to their enemies. But when we catch up with Nehemiah and his prayer in Nehemiah 1, more than sixty years have passed. The broken walls weren’t Nehemiah’s fault. He didn’t take a club to stone. And he didn’t set fire to the walls. He could’ve prayed, “They acted wickedly” and “They did not obey.”

Instead, he wept. He mourned. He fell to his knees, and he took personal responsibility. Why? Why did Nehemiah confess something he didn’t directly do? Why did he weep and repent when he lived far from the Holy City?

I think it was because he understood the value of communal confession, of looking at injustice and wrong and seeing his complicity. And he knew he too was part of the collective community of humanity that had disobeyed the One True God. And before they tried to rebuild what was broken, they needed to kneel before the Healer.

In our quest to appear more righteous than we are, we often neglect the healing ointment of humility. It’s easier to defend ourselves, assign blame, and prop our so-called righteousness against other’s sinfulness.

“It’s not my fault,” we argue. “So why should I have to clean up the mess?”

But Nehemiah understood that the only right posture to take before a Holy God was one of bowing down — admitting weakness, confessing sin, admitting the innate depravity of our humanity, and calling on the only One big enough to heal.

Whereas blame-shifting destroys, humility builds and, in many cases, heals. We live in interesting times, sisters. The fear and unknowns and racial tensions and injustices have left our cities with broken walls. The destruction is apparent. We can not ignore it.

And yet, blaming won’t help us with rebuilding. Instead, I pray we heed Nehemiah’s wisdom and see his posture as a means of healing our day.

Because there is only One who can help us shore up our walls. But we must first admit we need Him.

Father, I confess: we have acted wickedly. We have not obeyed. Instead of loving and forgiving as You have loved and forgiven, we have resisted and rebelled. So today we kneel in Your presence, admitting our need. We have neither the wisdom nor the strength to rebuild what has been broken, but You do. Give us mercy and grace for this nation and people whom You love. 

 

When You Don’t Have Anything to Look Forward To

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At the beginning of April and then again at the beginning of May, my oldest daughter wrote the months on our dry erase calendar in the kitchen. After neatly writing each date on its correct square, she scrawled, “Stay home!” in big, harsh letters. We all laughed, but in a sad way.

Normally, our calendar is full of practices and appointments, due dates and play dates. Now, it’s blank. Wide open. Empty. And while we certainly have enjoyed more down time and free time, we’ve also struggled — like you might have — with the many things we’ve missed since COVID-19 interrupted our world.

Like so many of you, we’ve marked the days and weeks of this shelter-in-place season with nothing more than checkmarks. We haven’t counted down to anything, save perhaps the last day of school, which meant something completely different than any year before. We’ve barely even noticed when special dates pass us by, choosing to avert our eyes from the calendar of cancellations. It would be a few days later when we’d remember, “Oh yeah, last weekend was when I was supposed to go to the youth retreat” (for my oldest daughter), or “Hey, wasn’t soccer supposed to start in April?” (for my youngest daughter), and “Well, I guess I don’t have to remember where my passport is after all” (that’s all me).

Don’t get me wrong; I’m more than grateful that I can work from home, that my husband has only missed a few days of work and pay, that my family is safe and healthy. But the lack of plans or upcoming . . . well . . . anything is hard on my heart.

I didn’t realize at first what was causing my sense of weariness and the general fog surrounding my mind. (I confess I was quick to blame it on my kids being with me all day, every day!) Why couldn’t I remember what day it was? Why did I keep missing deadlines? Why couldn’t I answer a simple question like, “How was your week?”

Finally, a friend pointed out that my disorientation might be due to my lack of plans. With nothing to look forward to, every day really does look and feel the same. In fact, without an event or activity or goal to plan for or work toward, my days lacked purpose, and I began to feel aimless.

Maybe you can identify with this feeling? Maybe you, too, have felt the weight of an empty calendar or the confusion of a life full of Zoom calls and drive-by birthday parties but still missing real meaning or connection? Maybe we’re still all in this together, but singing that to the tune of a Disney song makes you long for a big game or an opening night or something to write on that blank calendar?

You’re not alone. As it’s been lamented a million times, this is a weird, hard, confusing season for all of us. But more than that, even as economies and communities begin opening up, it’s an uncertain season. This is a time when we are coming face to face with what — or Whom — we put our hope in.

Do we place our hope in the plans we’ve made or in the goals we’ve set and the steps we’ve committed to taking to reach them? Do we place our hope in our ability to invite friends or family to gather, write the date on the calendar, and know that get-together will take place? Do we place our hope in being masters of our own domains, creating timelines and setting dates, buying tickets and paying deposits and registering for events?

I know I have.

But God offers us a better way. And it can be found in the Bible, our anchor in stormy seas or calm ones. The book of Proverbs, in particular, offers many words of wisdom about making plans.

  • Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths (Proverbs 3:5-6 ESV).
  • The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps (Proverbs 16:9 ESV).
  • Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand (Proverbs 19:21 ESV).

Those are good words, reminding us that no matter what the world is doing around us God is still in control. And if we look to Him, He will guide us to our next steps on the path He’s prepared for us, a path that travels straight through this difficult season. When we feel weak or confused or weary, we can lean on Him and our trust in His good plans (Jeremiah 29:11). When we’re unsure about what we should do next or if we even have something to look forward to right now, turning to Scripture reminds us that God made plans for us long ago (Ephesians 2:10). Nothing — global upheaval or personal chaos — can change that.

My calendar is still pretty blank, and the summer looms long and daunting for this work-from-home (and slightly introverted) mom unaccustomed to a whole lot more alone time than I will get for a while longer. But when I begin to feel adrift in the sea of space and time untethered by plans and schedules, I’m clinging to my anchor: God’s Word. I’m holding tight to His promises and leaning on His promise of plans for my life.

God knows what day it is. He won’t grow weary, and He knows exactly what’s coming next — for each one of us. And that is something to look forward to!

 

When We Listen, We Hear God

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She was like a blessing chasing me down, pressing her way through the crowd of women to catch up to me. Though I flowed along in the sea of sisters attending the women’s conference, I was a wave that stood out. I am 5’9, deep brown, with gravity-defying, big, bronze-highlighted locks that surround my head like a crown. She reached out and grabbed me. 

“Hi,” she said. “While you were praying in the chapel, God prompted me to tell you something. But you left while I was praying for someone else, so I had to come find you.”

At that point I was a good distance from the chapel, which meant she had run a ways to chase me down. She paused to catch her breath. We stood sideways so as not to impede the flow of women moving from one session to the next. We stood like two pebbles forcing the stream to move around us. 

“God wants you to do something big!” she said. I gave her a smile. I felt she was right, in the general sense that God wants us all to do “something.” And “big” is relative. 

“Do you know what it is?” she asked. I shook my head, looking up and searching my mind as if I might find the answer in a distant memory. 

“No,” I said with authentic cluelessness. 

She seemed a little surprised that I didn’t know. She paused in anticipation of the Holy Spirit’s next instruction for me. “Write!” she said. “Do you write?”

“No,” I replied, committed to my confusion. I was sure she had the wrong person. 

“Start writing, journaling, and it will come. It will come through your writing.”

I nodded with a slight shrug of indifference and merged back into the flow of women moving from one conference session to the next.  

Months later, I noticed that I was journaling more. My journal was a vessel filled to capacity as I poured out prose and poetry. Writing was becoming an exclamation mark accentuating the things that consumed my heart. I’d swell with cares and concerns for the community around me in a way that felt new, strong, and heavy. But what had changed? I was still a wife and mom of three adorable girls. The world had not changed. It was still fractured and suspended in passive hope. 

I really hadn’t noticed that there was a theme to my writing because it was so subtle. But when I paused to allow it to speak to me, it shouted with clarity. I recalled the prophetic woman who chased me down to deliver words that seemed empty at the time. But as I noticed a theme emerging, her words exploded with meaning. I realized that what she meant by “big” meant heavy, hard, cumbersome, and significant. I didn’t want to be the Black woman burdened to address our nation’s festering wound of racism. 

I yelled at God, “No! I don’t want to do this!”

But His encouraging hand remained on my back, pressing me forward. I realized that I had grown complacent with the level of racism in our communities. Beneath the lukewarm desire for diversity in our nation was a broken foundation — its falling pieces stoking and feeding the embers of a fire that had never been extinguished. We’ve been inhaling the toxic smoke of racism for four hundred years, and we can’t breathe.  

I had adjusted to this limited capacity to breathe, and now God was saying, “No more!” It was time to listen and hear God! I was being invited to wholly participate in cultivating and manifesting God’s dream for us. 

I knew the work would be excruciating. I told God, “Yes, I’ve studied anti-racism education. I’ve been immersed in helping heal communities and people with racial wounds. I’m a mom in a multiethnic family, and my father was a police officer. But I will not be heard. I will not be seen. Racism has so consumed us with fear and confusion that I will be labeled ‘divisive.’ I will be accused of stoking the embers. I will say, ‘God wants to heal us from racism,’ and they will dismiss my prophetic voice, my experiences, my intellect, my humanity.”

I was right. It happened. I’ve been ignored, discounted, disrespected. I’ve been shouted down by people who say they love God. It hurt — it still hurts. And the trauma lingers.

And now, in what can only be acknowledged as divine disruption, repair and healing are breaking forth through the broken foundations. As African-Americans struggle to breathe and grieve from centuries of indignity, I am in awe of the world-wide effort to listen, to hear our collective gasp for breath, and to hear God.  

And while we are listening, please hear these truths:

I am a helper, not divisive.
I am equipped to foster healing; I’m not a leftist.
I am an educator, not a mammy.
I am a beautiful woman loved by an amazing man; I’m not a wench!
I am God’s image-bearer, lighting the path to freedom from our destructive ideologies and practices. My goal is aligned with God’s dream for us to be free! 

I used to be complacent. I had no idea that I could make a difference beyond my door. I was wrong. I am exceedingly grateful that God is not satisfied with our inhumanity. Instead, when we listen, we hear God beckoning us to live Jesus’ final prayer — for all of us to be one (John 17:20-23). Let’s not run away. Let’s all allow ourselves to be chosen, chased down, and overtaken by this liberating work.

Blessed are those who hear the word of God and obey it.
Luke 11:28 (CSB)

 

Empowered with God’s Strength

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Lord, the king finds joy in your strength.
How greatly he rejoices in your victory!
You have given him his heart’s desire
and have not denied the request of his lips. Selah
For you meet him with rich blessings;
you place a crown of pure gold on his head.
He asked you for life, and you gave it to him—
length of days forever and ever.
His glory is great through your victory;
you confer majesty and splendor on him.
You give him blessings forever;
you cheer him with joy in your presence.
For the king relies on the Lord;
through the faithful love of the Most High
he is not shaken.
Your hand will capture all your enemies;
your right hand will seize those who hate you.
You will make them burn
like a fiery furnace when you appear;
the Lord will engulf them in his wrath,
and fire will devour them.
You will wipe their progeny from the earth
and their offspring from the human race.
Though they intend to harm you
and devise a wicked plan, they will not prevail.
Instead, you will put them to flight
when you ready your bowstrings to shoot at them.
Be exalted, Lord, in your strength;
we will sing and praise your might.
Psalm 21 (CSB)

In Psalm 20, David prays for deliverance in battle, and Psalm 21 is the praise that accompanies victory. God is one who helps us, who knows the desires of our hearts, and who empowers us with His strength when we go into battle. For every fight against injustice and racism, for every loss we grieve, for every hurt we are forced to be silent about, God sees each one. He hears our prayers, and He fights for us.

This summer, we’re journeying through the book of Psalms. Join us! 

Click here to purchase the printed Summer (in) the Psalms 40-Day Devotional Journal for just $7.99! This beautiful printed journal, only available on Amazon, includes forty days of reading selections from Psalms, twenty full devotions from the (in)courage Devotional Bible, and daily reflection questions with lined pages for journaling your answers. This journal is an all-inclusive, one stop shop for your Summer (in) the Psalms journey!

We can’t wait to spend Summer (in) the Psalms with you.

Get your Summer (in) the Psalms Devotional Journal today!

When You Want to Belong, Try This

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I can still remember the exciting summer of ’91 before my senior year of high school, when educator Marva Collins came to my Oklahoma hometown. While I hadn’t heard of Marva Collins before that time, I learned she was a big deal in the education field who’d been featured in Time, Life, and Newsweek magazines. Ms. Collins and her good work had also been highlighted on the television show 60 Minutes.

I’ve thought a lot about Ms. Collins this week. In reading about her history, I learned that after becoming disenchanted with public and private schools in the Chicago area where she lived, she started her own school: Westside Preparatory. At the end of that school’s first year, every student enrolled scored at least five grades higher on standardized tests. As Ms. Collins garnered national attention (including that of President Reagan, who offered her the post of Secretary of Education), she went on to supervise schools on academic probation inside and outside of Chicago. She helped improve school ratings as well as train over 100,000 teachers and administrators in her teaching methodology.

It was this work of Ms. Collins—training fellow educators—that brought her to my hometown in northern Oklahoma, where she taught a two-week class to elementary students. Through a random drawing at my dad’s work, my younger sister was chosen to participate in that class. My sister and fellow classmates, who represented a range of ethnicities and learning abilities, proceeded to study Latin derivatives, memorize poetry, and study William Shakespeare. They learned to count in eight languages. They learned the Greek alphabet. They learned songs that affirmed all they brought to the world. Yours truly here can still sing every word to the song, “I am a Promise” that Ms. Collins taught her students.

“I am a promise, I am a possibility. I am a Promise, with a capital P…”

Those kids learned so much within those two weeks that even my self-absorbed, seventeen-year-old self was slack-jawed by it all.

How did Ms. Collins’s students’ progress as they did? One reason is because she believed all children were capable of success. Ms. Collins believed, “There was a brilliant child locked inside every student.” If a child struggled, Ms. Collins put the onus on herself.  She stated, “I don’t make excuses — I take responsibility. If children fail, it’s about me, not them.”

I write a lot about belonging, and one of my biggest lessons learned to date is that in securing my own sense of belonging, it helps to think of myself as a Belong-Maker. I saw Ms. Collins’ life as an example of a Belong-Maker — before I had the words to express it. Like Jesus, the original Belong-Maker, Ms. Collins gave kids the gift of being seen.

She brought all children — regardless of race, economic or social status — into the circle of potential like few before her. She had a heart for them, and her actions sprang from that heart — His heart.

Ms. Collins not only brought all kids in to a standard of excellence; she helped remove stumbling blocks that prevented some kids from internalizing this standard for themselves. Ms. Collins had grown up in the South during the time of segregation, but she made sure kids knew excellence wasn’t just attainable for a few cherry-picked folks. It was a habit that anyone could adhere to — and grow towards. Also, Ms. Collins believed that building a child up from the inside out was essential to his or her success in school — and in life.

As a Belong-Maker, holding a spot open for someone — you! — comes very naturally to me. God gave me a welcoming spirit that loves to bring others in. But what doesn’t come so naturally to me is paying attention to obstacles that might prevent someone from moving toward the circle in the first place.

I’m working on not only being a Belong-Maker but an Obstacle-Remover too.

Right now, that looks like speaking up — like pointing an arrow to the injustices our Black brothers and sisters have faced for much too long.

That looks like listening up — so others voices can be heard.

That looks like praying for the Lord to expose the biases within my own heart — so His heart can be exposed.

That looks like hard conversations with those in my circles — so all can better understand what needs to change to fully welcome others in.

More than any other person who walked the Earth, Jesus was a Belong-Maker who gave others the gift of being seen. His death and resurrection removed any obstacle between God and us. What’s more, He also paved the way for us to follow as Belong-Makers and to kick any obstacles out of the way that prevent others from being welcomed in, too.

In this classroom of life, may my eyes and heart stay open to His direction in my location.

Because we’re all a Promise, with a capital P.

Read more about becoming a Belong-Maker in Kristen’s book, Back Roads to Belonging.

A Beautiful Inheritance

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Lord, you are my portion
and my cup of blessing;
you hold my future.
The boundary lines have fallen for me
in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
Psalm 16:5-6 (CSB)

I’m not proud of a lot in my past, but you know what? My past is what makes me who I am because it defines the boundaries of my life. The enemy tries to use my past to derail my future because he’s absolutely terrified I’ll be unstoppable if I get this right. He’ll use yours against you too. The enemy will want you so focused on you and your pain that you can’t begin to be there for someone else. So even though I’m not proud of everything I’ve ever done, I’m incredibly grateful for my life and my inheritance.

Our one job is to possess our land, to own our inheritance, to accept it. Every single, messy inch of it. This means we have to stop hiding from our past. It’s hard to face the past. We all have things we desperately wish weren’t there. But when we surrender our lives to God, He’ll redeem our past for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).

I cringe when I recall the life I lived in the decades before I accepted Jesus as my Savior. But I know those days shaped me into the woman I am today. I can easily connect with a woman dealing with infertility because I dealt with it too. It was a hard, hard season in my life, but God got me through, and if I can help even one woman get through it, then the pain and the tears were worth it!

There is nothing on earth you’ve gone through that He doesn’t understand. He knows all about your past and He knows about your future too — the good, the bad, the ugly. Every single bit of your land and life has a purpose. And you can trust Him with all of it.

This excerpt is by Kate Battestelli, published in the (in)courage Devotional Bible and the Summer (in) the Psalms Devotional Journal.

We’re journeying through the book of Psalms this summer, and we hope you will too! Every Thursday, several of our contributors will hold a video conversation about what they’re learning from a selected psalm. These conversations are so good for our souls, and just plain fun! Find the full list of videos here as they go live — the very first one is ready and waiting for you!

If you haven’t started your Summer (in) the Psalms journey yet, it’s definitely not too late! There’s plenty of summer left, and so many wonderful truths waiting in the Psalms. We hope you’ll join us.

Grab your copy of the Summer (in) the Psalms 40-Day Devotional Journal for just $7.99! This beautiful printed journal, only available on Amazon, includes forty days of reading selections from Psalms, twenty full devotions from the (in)courage Devotional Bible, and daily reflection questions with lined pages for journaling your answers. This journal is an all-inclusive, one stop shop for your summer studying!

We can’t wait to spend Summer (in) the Psalms with you.

Get your Summer (in) the Psalms Devotional Journal today!

On Kingdom Living and Table Talk

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Here we are, weeks into what seems like an endless sea of hard and heavy conversations on racism. Honestly, I feel as though I have had ALL the conversations with ALL the people. I have felt emotionally spent and very hopeful at the same time. I have had dear friends near and far reach out to check on me. They have prayed for me, listened to me, and empathized with me. They have searched their hearts and have asked genuine questions.

I’ve thought a lot about how Jesus lived and how we’re called to live as He did. At every turn, Jesus stood up for the poor, the outcast, the oppressed, and the marginalized. He did it with love, grace, and boldness. He used truth to challenge every status quo and to change the current narrative.

In John 4, Jesus has an encounter with the woman at the well. From start to finish, this encounter flies in the face of every social norm of the time. Samaritans were a mixed ethnic group and very well hated by Jewish culture. It was completely unheard of for a Jewish man, let alone a rabbi, to speak with a Samaritan. Jesus begins His journey by telling the disciples that He needed to go through Samaria. So, there in the middle of the day, He goes out of His way to talk with a Samaritan woman. He turns her world upside down by extending truth, grace, and love towards her. And then He uses that encounter to teach the disciples about whom He came to save and who is welcome in the kingdom of God.

In Luke 10:25-37, Jesus tells a parable about a man who was robbed and beaten and left for dead on the side of the road. Both a priest and a Levite saw the man yet avoided him by crossing the road. Then, a Samaritan saw the man and had compassion on him. He went over and above in caring for the wounded man. He bandaged him and paid for more care at a nearby inn. Jesus patiently taught the disciples about what it looks like to show mercy, even when it’s to our enemies.

I recently had dinner with a group of people at a literal round table. There were about ten of us. We were of different ethnicities, ages, and walks of life. Most of us were new to each other. Some of us were acquaintances, and some were good friends. This group had never assembled before, and yet the Lord had a beautiful purpose in mind for this gathering. Our gracious host was a lovely new friend of mine named Edie. She is in her early sixties and has such a huge desire for unity and love within the Body of Christ. She gathered us together in hopes of creating a safe space for us to process and for her to listen and learn from those of us with brown and black skin. We broke bread, shared communion, and had hard conversations.

My friend Bri, who just happened to be visiting at the time, was also at this table, and she shared truth filled with wisdom and revelation. She said that the kind of conversations we were having were best done around a table.

I couldn’t agree more! When I think of the early Church in the book of Acts, it says that they met in homes daily. They prayed, worshiped, broke bread, and I’m sure had all manner of conversations. I imagine there were opposing perspectives on life issues and interpretations of Scripture, those with questions and those with answers. There was probably agreement and empathy and even apologies over hurt feelings from those who sat at the table.

Creating space at the table doesn’t make issues, like racism, disappear. However, it does create an intentional space to have those conversations. The table becomes the place where we are all seen, heard and loved. We can learn and be educated in online spaces, and I believe the next best thing to do is to bring what we are learning to those tables among friends and family that are willing to learn and grow as well.

Bri also spoke of changing our mindsets from earthly perspectives to kingdom perspectives. We are citizens of heaven, but we forget this too easily and let earthly perspectives rule our hearts and minds. Through Jesus, we also have access to be in constant fellowship with God, and we can experience His presence here and now. By our words and our actions, we can also show others who God is.

As we keep renewing our minds, God’s thoughts become our thoughts. We begin to see others the way He sees them. We begin to love the things He loves. We begin to walk in unity with one heart and one mind. Isn’t that what we all desire?

I know I am not completely there yet. I am wrapped in human flesh that gets in the way sometimes.

But God is patient, kind, loving, and faithful. He is the author of salvation and redemption. He is light in the darkness and makes crooked places straight. He is the mender of all things broken. He is our Prince of Peace. He is the perfecter of our faith, and He is our soon and coming King.

Hard conversations are best done at the table, and we can take heart when they become uncomfortable and filled with tension. We have a God who is with us and who helps us along the way.

 

Have you had conversations about racism at the table — literally or figuratively?
What have you learned about God through them?

 

The Reality of the Future Gives Hope for Today

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And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” And then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.”
Revelation 21:5 (NLT)

COVID-19 is still very real. Racism is rampant. We are grieving death — unexpected and expected — while still trying to manage life in a pandemic. WE ARE WEARY.

When life doesn’t let up, when the wave of loss overcomes us again and again, silver linings don’t cut it. We need hope that is tangible, real, and unwavering when circumstances keep changing. Hope for today comes from the reality of our future. We look forward to the day when God will make all things right and new. But even now, God is doing that work. Look for it. Join Him in it. Rest as He does it.

So, this is our promise for today: In this fragmented world, God is making all things new.

What If It’s as ‘Simple’ as Everyday Faithfulness?

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My grandfather passed away last month. A few hours after receiving the news, the memory of a long-forgotten college paper crossed my mind.

It was late. Both night and tears had fallen, but instead of going to bed I sat at my desk searching through documents.

There. There! The glow of the computer screen lit up the room as I opened the file.

After three months of reading, writing, studying, presenting and discussing, our final assignment in this particular class centered around the idea of being “called to ministry.” What does the phrase mean? What does it look like? Am I called to ministry and if so, how?

The paper weaves together multiple stories — multiple “calls” — but it begins with a pastor living in North Carolina.

Before I could scroll down to his words, to the quotes saved from an interview with my grandfather years earlier, God’s kindness met me.

I knew what I was looking for, but I didn’t know what I would find.

A date is listed in the top left corner of the twelve-page paper. According to the document, I made the final edits exactly six years and one day earlier.

It’s a small detail, to be sure, but as I sat there in my pajamas, I couldn’t help but laugh as a smile spread across my tear-stained face.

Even then, six years and one day earlier, God knew. Over the past month or two, my friends and I have jokingly said we’re ready to get back to “precedented times.” We want the light at the end of the tunnel, the assurance that there’s an end-date to sheltering in place.

But there, with the document open, it was as clear as the date displayed on the page: God holds time and He holds us, all at the same time.

Ours is a God who cannot be taken by surprise, who knows how the story will end but chooses to walk with us on every page. Ours is a God who cannot stand to stay away, who comes close and shows His kindness in the smallest of details.

Three days later, I stood in a black dress in a North Carolina cemetery.

I held a funeral program in my hands, and once again a date got my attention. Every person gathered that day came not because of the years listed, but because of how he lived and loved in the dash in-between.

Small details . . . as small as a dash.

On page eleven of my college paper, after sharing my own journey of wrestling with and finally accepting the call to ministry, I wrote the following:

The life and story of each minister is unique, as is every call to ministry, and many choose not to answer the call. However, I saw clearly the importance of answering the call – not just for oneself or for those that will be impacted immediately, but for those who will follow in your footsteps. As we live a life of ministry, we leave a legacy behind us. The truth of this is displayed prominently in my life: Pastor Al is my grandfather.

Choosing to answer the call to ministry greatly impacted his life as well as the lives of his children, including my mother. I was raised to know who Jesus is and there was never a time in my life when my grandfather was not serving and pastoring.

Everyday faithfulness may look small and feel ordinary in the moment, but it will leave a legacy that speaks volumes.

Everyday faithfulness doesn’t chase the next big thing; it does the next right thing.

Everyday faithfulness is not about accolades, fame, or follower counts; it bends low to serve.

One day, someone will engrave a stone or hold a funeral program with my name and two years listed. The same is true for you. But for now, we still have time left in the dash, in the days in-between.

What we write and create matters. How we live, speak, and serve matters.

You’re leaving a legacy, even as you make a peanut butter sandwich or an Excel spreadsheet. You’re opening doors and paving the way for generations to come.

On the final page of the paper, I wrote these words:

I saw a life of ministry lived out and this likely played a role in answering my own call to ministry. My grandfather and I now share a love for words and the responsibility to encourage and serve others. He faithfully continues to answer his call by speaking at a pulpit each week and I continue to write online.

In some ways, this post is a continuation of his legacy.

God holds time and He holds us, all at the same time. May we be faithful in the time that we have left, choosing to live lives of everyday faithfulness, believing that they will ultimately point to the one who is eternally faithful.

 

The Teacher Is Always There

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The other day our mower just stopped working. I went out to mow, and it just wouldn’t move. We knew this day was coming. We had been using the same mower for many, many years on a lawn that was too big for it. So we had already had conversations about a new mower.

It seemed everyone loved the zero turn mowers — the ones that have two levers to steer instead of a steering wheel. We researched and looked at several places that carried them. Each one said the same thing: once you mow with a zero turn mower, you’ll never want to use another mower again. They said it would be so easy and that we’d love it. So we listened and got one.

When it was time to mow, my husband drove it around as if he had done so for years. He had already tried it before we made the purchase, but still, he made it look easy — flying around the yard, driving between things, trimming around the flower beds and trees.

I was excited when it was my turn to mow. All the positive reviews echoed through my head: It’s so easy to use! I’ve taught people in their eighties to drive one!

But it turned out that was so not my experience! I thought I’d be able to just jump on and get it like my husband had, but it was hard and confusing for me — like my brain was taking to too long to think about which lever I needed to move which way. I was all over the place, and the levers were so touchy. Forget about maneuvering anything around! It was a disaster, and the only fantastic thing about the new mower for me was that it had a comfortable seat — that was about it!

It was such a huge disappointment. I thought it was supposed to make my life easier. My husband — God bless him for being so patient — stepped in to help. He walked alongside me, telling me to go slowly and walking me through what to do with those dang levers. He encouraged me and told me I was doing well, even though I knew I was not catching on.

It certainly didn’t come easy for me like I had hoped and like everyone had said. I’d definitely need more guidance and teaching and patience in my learning. It was going to be a process.

Such is life and our relationship with the Lord. He is our greatest teacher, and He sends us great lessons in many ways — even through the most ordinary ways. Yet often we are not the best students. We don’t think we need help. We want to jump ahead and do things on our own, often without knowing what we are doing. We don’t take the time to really listen to Him. We don’t let Him guide us. We don’t let Him teach us the way first. I don’t know about you, but I know I could be a better student and pay closer attention.

“You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am.”
John 13:13 (NIV)

Jesus became human in order to show us the way. We all need to be taught, and we all have different things to learn. And yes, sometimes it takes a while to get it. Try not to be discouraged: we each learn at a different pace and in different ways. It takes time to process the lessons He is trying to teach us. Thank goodness He is so patient with us!

We will all have to go through some growing pains in our journey, too. Some lessons will come easier than others. It won’t always be a smooth and easy road. Some lessons we will have to learn many times over. We will inevitably make mistakes, but He will offer grace when we get in our own way.

We may even just want to give up when it gets too hard. I had that same feeling with the new mower. I just wanted to give up, even though I enjoy mowing. I love those hours in nature, with just the hum of the mower and my thoughts. But my husband won’t let me give up. With all his sweet patience, he will teach me to use it and maybe, hopefully, some day I will agree it is indeed the best mower ever!

God is faithful, and He will not give up on us. Take your requests to Jesus. Ask Him to teach you. He is always able and ready as long as we are willing. The Teacher is always there, speaking deeply into our hearts, giving us the guidance we need.

Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.
Psalm 25:4-5 (NIV)

 

[bctt tweet=”God is faithful, and He will not give up on us. Take your requests to Jesus. Ask Him to teach you. He is always able and ready as long as we are willing. -Jennifer Ueckert:” username=”incourage”]

Let’s Be Planted by the River

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How happy is the one who does not
walk in the advice of the wicked
or stand in the pathway with sinners
or sit in the company of mockers!
Instead, his delight is in the Lord’s instruction,
and he meditates on it day and night.
He is like a tree planted beside flowing streams
that bears its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
Whatever he does prospers.
The wicked are not like this;
instead, they are like chaff that the wind blows away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand up in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked leads to ruin.
Psalm 1 (CSB)

When hard news comes, when difficulties happen, we can be tempted to think that if our life is a Farmer’s Market the stalls will now be empty. There will be only fragile leaves chased away by the wind. All the glory and color will be gone. But the reality is this: As long as we are joined to Jesus, there will be fruit in our lives — from the time we are sneaker-wearing teenagers to silver-haired senior citizens blowing out one hundred candles on the cake. In other words, there will always be miraculous things coming to and through us.

The fruit in our lives will thrive. That doesn’t mean nothing hard will ever happen or we’ll get everything we want. But it does mean that God’s plans for our lives are invincible when we stay connected to Him. Life’s droughts and storms can’t stop Him from bringing forth His miraculous work in and through us.

So let’s cling to God’s promises. Hold tight to His heart. Have strong roots that burrow deep into His affection for us. We will not falter. We will not fail. We will not lead a barren life at any age. Yes, we will be women of beauty, growth, and blessings as long as we live. Because we are trees planted by the river of God’s love, and it will never run dry.

This excerpt is written by Holley Gerth, published in the (in)courage Devotional Bible and in Summer (in) the Psalms: A 40-Day Devotional Journal. 

This summer, we’re journeying through the book of Psalms. Join us! 

Click here to purchase the printed Summer (in) the Psalms 40-Day Devotional Journal for just $7.99! This beautiful printed journal, only available on Amazon, includes forty days of reading selections from Psalms, twenty full devotions from the (in)courage Devotional Bible, and daily reflection questions with lined pages for journaling your answers. This journal is an all-inclusive, one stop shop for your Summer (in) the Psalms journey!

We can’t wait to spend Summer (in) the Psalms with you.

Get your Summer (in) the Psalms Devotional Journal today!

 

[bctt tweet=”Life’s droughts and storms can’t stop Him from bringing forth His miraculous work in and through us. #inPsalms2020 -@holleygerth:” username=”incourage”]

What If I Don’t Want To?

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Amidst the shelter at home quarantine, I received a very interesting question via my Instagram. Even though it’s been months and we’re all in different parts of the country with varying plans for re-opening, many will ponder different aspects of her vulnerable question.

“Jen, I know you are passionate about creating community and biblical hospitality, but what if after this quarantine, I struggle to find my place again? I’m finding I don’t like small talk and I don’t miss ‘lunch with the girls.’ I love my family and realize that being with my kids is my passion. I don’t really have interests outside of them, but that’s not really fair to them is it? How do I step back into the social/friend stuff when I don’t even want to?”

I wrestled through my response to her because I’ve been struggling too. The longer we are living distant lives, the potential for complacency becomes greater. The quarantine has already been going on for months so statistically, we’re forming new habits. Habits filled with distance. Habits designed to measure personal safety and comfort. Habits that systematically make us question how our day’s actions will impact our health, ourselves, and our families. It’s just a fact.

So when one of the most important aspects of my personal ministry’s foundation encourages women to step forward in absolute freedom to love on others by gathering and “just opening the door,” my heart grieves amidst this “must shut the door” lifestyle.  Understanding there’s never been a more important time to ward off the loneliness and isolation that play havoc in a woman’s soul, please know that I have been on my knees in prayer for you — all of you.

Community is of critical importance, especially in these times. We are created for it, and so I’ve spent time brainstorming and petitioning the Lord for wisdom as to what that will look like in the future. I know we can’t stop gathering. We can’t stop pursuing one another — it’s more important now than ever before.

Yet the ongoing social, emotional, and even spiritual implications in which COVID-19 manifests itself varies dramatically for each family unit whether we are single, married, with kids or without. We need to give grace to ourselves as we figure out our new normal because it will take time. There’s no “one tried and true way” for us to recover from a pandemic, yet the wisdom of Scripture is quite straight forward when it comes to the topics in her question — mentoring and discipleship (for her, parenting) and practicing hospitality.

While there are lists of how-to’s on these topics, we must first understand why we’re commanded to pursue others and then model it. God’s Word provides the answer, and His Word doesn’t change amidst varying social climates.

First, I celebrated this precious mom and the tremendous job she’s doing of teaching His Word to her children. As you know, that is no small feat. To find such joy and to place such a priority on discipling her closest neighbors – her own children – speaks to the critical importance of Deuteronomy 6:7 —

Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.

When we talk and then walk out His commandments throughout the day, we bring Him glory. But it can’t stop there. We must talk and walk out our faith for those inside and outside our homes.

Every day I pray, “Bearing the Imago Dei, being made in Your image, Lord, show me unique ways that I can point others to You today.” I remind myself, “Jen, this isn’t about you or your comfort,” and I embrace 1 Thessalonians 2:8 —

Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well.

So whether it’s for our neighbors or co-workers or our children, my desire is that they witness a woman whose faith embraces the fullness of God’s unending, overflowing, abundant, and perfect love. I pray they’ll know our lives have been so changed, that we can’t help but tell others about what the Savior has been up to in our lives. For the Schmidt family (and I hope yours too), we can’t help but invite others into our home (or gather at a park) or pursue those who need encouragement. We know the story of His goodness and are compelled to share it. We don’t always get this right. In fact, sometimes we fail miserably, but we continue to step forward asking Him to use our mistakes.

So to the mom who asked me that question, I didn’t give her any tips on how to step back into the social/friend stuff, but instead, I challenged her to understand the why. We welcome and invite others into community because we’re driven by the overarching principle to love God, love His will, and point others to His glory.

I challenged her to ask these same questions as if the quarantine never occurred. Would she struggle with the same issues? Would you? Do you?

As she wrestled through my response, her very real and raw answer spoke to me.

“You gave me a lot to think about. ‘We are commanded to,’  you said. Still soaking that in and really needing to ponder what you said to me.”

As always, my friends, grace on, guilt off. But ponder with me what your new normal will look like, and let’s keep pursuing others, compelled by the love God has for us.

 

[bctt tweet=”No matter what your new normal will look like, let’s keep pursuing others, compelled by the love God has for us. -Jen Schmidt (@beautyandbedlam):” username=”incourage”]

Let’s Spend Summer (in) the Psalms!

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This summer will be different. It already is, isn’t it? Parks and pools and beaches are closed. We may be distancing from our most vulnerable friends and family members. Our kids finished school at home, and now many of their summer camps and programs are cancelled. The world is still in tender turmoil. We’ve never had a season like this before, and many of us are looking for solid comfort, truth we can cling to, and reminders of peace and hope.

With that in mind, we can’t think of a better place to camp out this summer than in the book of Psalms.

The psalms are known as fertile ground for connecting deeply with the heart of God. They are beautiful examples of what raw, honest, transparent communication with God looks like — hopes and fears poured out, hearts surrendered, lives transformed. Through the psalms, we see God’s love and compassion and unshakable commitment to His people. We see God’s nearness, God’s with-ness.

We also discover we are not alone. We join with other sojourners in this life of faith as we learn the language of both praise and lament. When we’re tempted to think that no one else could possibly understand what we’re going through, let’s open the book of Psalms, because it’s there we are sure to find a friend.

So, join us as we journey through reading forty psalms this summer!

All you need is a copy of our Summer (in) the Psalms 40-Day Devotional Journal. This beautiful 127-page journal is just $7.99, only available on Amazon, and includes a 40-day reading plan with selections from Psalms, daily reflection questions with lined pages for journaling, and twenty corresponding devotions from the (in)courage Devotional Bible printed in full. (You do not need an (in)courage Devotional Bible to participate; the journal includes the full devotions.) For less than $8, this journal is all you need for an impactful summer Bible study.

Here’s how we will read through Psalms this summer:

  • We will be reading five days a week for eight weeks. That feels more do-able to us than forty days straight. We’ll start reading next week, and you can definitely go at your own pace — no pressure or judgment!
  • On Sundays, we will share a select psalm from the week right here on the blog, so tune in for those posts.
  • On Thursdays, join Community Manager Becky Keife and other (in)courage contributors for video conversations as they discuss what they’re learning in that weeks’ selected Psalms! You’ll be able to watch on our (in)courage IGTV and Facebook pages, and the closed caption versions will air on YouTube. Links will also be added to this page as videos go live. Dates and contributors subject to change. We hope you’ll share what you’re learning from the Psalms too — use hashtag #inPsalms2020, and see what others are bringing to the conversation.

That’s it! Relaxed, no pressure, and still deeply impactful. Gather a group of friends together (safely distanced of course, or even on a video call!) and spend the Summer (in) the Psalms together. Let’s not add more tasks to our to-do list. Rather, let’s make space for the ones that matter most, bring us closer to the One who created us, and spend time reflecting on His heart. Join us for a Summer (in) the Psalms!

Get your Summer (in) the Psalms 40-Day Devotional Journal
and join us today!

 

[bctt tweet=”Want to join me for a summer Bible study? Let’s walk through the Psalms this summer with @incourage! Get the details here:” via=”no”]

What Does Courage Look Like Now?

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Over a decade ago I sat in front of my computer staring at a blank screen, trying to decide what to say. Finally, the words came to me, and I wrote, “Be courageous and write in a way that scares you a little.”

I’d spent the last few months dreaming and planning with my (in)courage co-founder Stephanie Bryant and now the site was almost ready to launch. We’d spent many hours praying and imagining what this community could become. Back then we talked about it like God’s beach house — a place where you could put your sandy, dirty feet on the table, laugh late into the night with your friends, and hear God’s voice perhaps clearer than anywhere else.

We’d reached out to writers and invited them to be part of the adventure. The yes responses had enthusiastically come in, much to our amazement. Now on this particular day, I was crafting a letter to the original contributors to help them write their first post.

I thought a lot about what I wanted to say to them. Most publications back then were still telling their writers to hold back, sound the same, don’t share too much or get too personal. But that’s not what I sensed God wanted from us. So instead of rules and guidelines, I told them, “Be courageous and write in a way that scares you a little.”

That line became one that we repeated to each other through the years. DaySpring recently created a journal with that quote on the cover. It’s sitting on my desk now and with all that’s going on in our world, I’m thinking again about what courage really means — not just for writers but for all of us.

Be courageous and write in a way that scares you a little.

When I said “be courageous” over a decade ago, I meant dare to put yourself out there. What does that mean now when life looks like social distancing and staying at home? Thankfully, I don’t think walls get in the way of courage. Even if we can’t open the door to our homes, we can still open the door to our hearts. Even if we can’t go the places we want to, we can still go where we’re called. Even if we can’t get together, we can stick together.

I first wrote those words to writers, but I’d like to say them to all of us today. Just change the phrase to what it looks like for you now.

Be courageous and help in a way that scares you a little.

Be courageous and parent in a way that scares you a little.

Be courageous and work in a way that scares you a little.

The reality is we’re all afraid right now. But there’s more than one kind of fear. There’s the kind that comes from external circumstances, like COVID-19. But there’s also the kind of fear that we experience when we choose bravery, when we do hard things, when we discover an inner strength we didn’t know we had. I want us to embrace that kind of fear.

Why?

Because people need what you have to offer more than ever before.

Even if you can’t change all the world’s problems, you can still change one life at a time.

And if you do just one small, unseen thing, it’s still enough to make a difference.

I extended an invitation to the original writers of (in)courage all those years ago. I’m extending a similar invitation to you, the (in)courage community, today:

Let’s be courageous and love in a way that scares us a little.

Are you with me?

Holley loves helping writers so she created a course, Be a Kick-Butt Writer by Friday, to give you clarity, confidence, and courage. The world needs your words of hope and encouragement more than ever before.

 

[bctt tweet=”Even if you can’t change all the world’s problems, you can still change one life at a time. Let’s be courageous and love in a way that scares us a little. – @holleygerth” username=”incourage”]

The One Thing You’ve Got to Know If You Messed Up

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Six new baby kittens were born on our Iowa farm, down in the shed, next to an old TV set that hasn’t worked in years.

I like to think of our newborn kittens as accidental therapists. I’m often in need of a mood adjustment, so I come out to the shed several times a day and creak open the door, certain that I’ll find my smile somewhere inside. Kittens are great perspective shifters, living in the moment as they do — always chasing the fun or plotting mischief, with food breaks in between.

As much as I enjoy our kittens, they inevitably bring a mix of frustration and heartache to my life.

First, the frustration.

While impossibly cute, kittens are also furry little goblins with zero etiquette and a high sense of self. They knock things off the shelves of the shed. They ignore my stellar pet-parenting. Yesterday, a kitten named Dave peed in the cat food, even though I’d specifically trained him to use the litter box.

Second, these kittens bring heartache. Quite often, a kitten will mysteriously fail to grow. It will wander off to a corner, curl into a ball, seal its eyes shut, and die. We’ve been on this farm for nearly two decades now, and every kitten holds a bit of my heart. There are always tears when we dig tiny graves for tiny animals.

Still, I love these kittens – with a reckless, unreasonable love – even though I know they will break my heart. Even though I know they’ll misbehave. Even though they act like they don’t need me. Even though they think they are little gods running the show.

The other day, as I was walking back up the hill from the kittens’ shed to our house, a truth bomb dropped into the center of my soul. It felt as if God were talking right to me with these words: “Now you know how I feel.”

I couldn’t get over the truth of it, rolling over me with a ferocious and holy warmth. I couldn’t get over how God just keeps on loving us like He does, how He actually enjoys us, how He creaks open the door of our lives, and in some weird way, He actually delights in us.

I mean, here we are – people who routinely break His heart. We surely frustrate Him. We think we are little gods running the show. We misbehave.

But He keeps on creaking the door open, keeps on loving us.

That’s the one thing we’ve all got to know if we’ve messed up lately.

In the book of Romans, the Apostle Paul makes a long list of things that, on their face, look like the sorts of things that would keep us from receiving the love of God: sin, trouble. Highs, lows. The thinkable and the unthinkable. But Paul writes, “Absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us” (Romans 8:39 MSG).

The most liberating truth in all the universe is this: Jesus is absurdly and ravenously in love with us. He is for us.

He is for you!

You might turn your back on Him, change your mind about Him, stomp your feet at Him, or run away from Him. But He will never, ever leave your side.

You might fall, stumble, trip, fumble, sin, grumble, and make a general mess of things. But He can’t not love you.

He made a way back, a way up, a way out, and a way in. He came for you, all the way to Earth to rescue you. And He’s not giving up on you now.

Stand with me in this moment, on that patch of grass between the house and the kittens’ shed, with the sun warming our backs. And let God drop that truth into your heart. Hear Him tell you how He loves you with a reckless love.

And nothing, absolutely nothing, can stand in the way of it.

 

[bctt tweet=”Look for the signs of His love for you and hear Him tell you how He loves you with a reckless love. -@dukeslee:” username=”incourage”]