Focus on Who Not Do

Focus on Who Not Do

by

It’s the beginning of a new year, and I don’t have a word, a detailed plan, or written goals. I’m more confused than I was three weeks ago about next steps in my life. I’m praying about what I should do today and am overwhelmed and exhausted.

Are you like me, praying for guidance, direction, and the revelation of next steps? Like you, I want to be obedient to God’s will for my life and expand His kingdom as I walk out His plans for me.

But the voices of anxiety creep in and sound something like this:

  • What if I miss my next step?
  • What if I don’t live up to the full potential God has for me?
  • What am I doing that makes any real impact, like her?
  • What if I’m missing His plan completely?
  • What if I’m letting fear dictate my actions and I don’t even realize it?

I’ve been praying about what to do, when instead I should have been asking Jesus to help me become who He created me to be.

When I am who God tells me I am, then I can be and do His will.

He doesn’t need me to do anything for Him, only with Him. He gives clarity and direction at the perfect time. God doesn’t want any response to His love that isn’t rooted in love — like comparison, hustling to be the first or best, shying away from my calling, seeking to make a name for myself, striving to save the world, or anything done out of fear.

The One who holds today and all the plans for all our tomorrows wants us to be with Him — to follow Jesus so closely, our breath is on His neck. You won’t be a able to tell when His footsteps end and yours begin. When He pauses, you can pause too. When He rests, you need to rest too. When He gives you a look of confidence that pours courage into your heart, you can do the unthinkable thing — big or mundane — He asks of you for the kingdom.

You don’t have to be prepared or educated or have a detailed plan; you can be filled up with God’s Spirit. In Acts 4, “Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them. . .” who Jesus really was. Then the “members of the council were amazed when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, for they could see that they were ordinary men who had no special training. They also recognized them as men who had been with Jesus” (Acts 4:8-13 NLT).

I want to be recognized as a woman who has been with Jesus, my life overflowing from His presence alone. Then, others will be amazed by what God is doing as He uses me to expand His kingdom, and God will be glorified. Isn’t that what we really want as His daughters?

It’s easier to have lists and goals than to have our life and identity be an open-palm process. We can move in Jesus, waiting on the Spirit’s leading, stepping into obedience. This kind of life is always in season, bearing fruit and being pruned, full of adventure and patience, longing for the miracle and telling stories of God’s wonders.

If we could focus on who — the Jesus in us and who He’s making us into — then the do will come without having to wonder or figure things out. A beautiful life will unfold that we don’t have to push or pry or agonize over. Then, who we become will be all about Who did the work in us and through us: Jesus.

Let’s be human beings, more focused on our identity and whose we are, not on what we do.

Jesus calls everyone to turn from their sins and be saved.

Jesus empowers us by the Holy Spirit to be disciples.

Jesus teaches His disciples to be fishers of people.

Pray to be filled up to overflowing by the Holy Spirit. Allow His presence to take over. As His Spirit then flows over into the world out of you, then you’ll see you are who He says you are as you do exactly what He wants you to do.

I know the Lord is always with me. I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me. No wonder my heart is glad, and I rejoice. My body rests in safety. For you will not leave my soul among the dead or allow your holy one to rot in the grave. You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever.
Psalm 16:8-11 (NLT)

 

[bctt tweet=”He doesn’t need me to do anything FOR Him, only WITH Him. -Stephanie Bryant:” username=”incourage”]

Let’s Be “For-You” Kind of People
(and Why It Really Matters)

by

You yourself have recorded my wanderings.
Put my tears in your bottle.
Are they not in your book?
This I know: God is for me.
Psalm 56:8,9b (CSB)

Have you ever considered how a past experience or principle can serve you in the here and now, even when its original application might have been very different? For example, when we were in the throes of parenting our three children, we did our best to instill values that mattered to us. A few? Loving God and esteeming His word, considering the preciousness of others, telling the truth, doing your best, using manners, and especially as they got older, not assuming a victim mentality. Blaming others for perceived injustice didn’t sit well with us if we sensed our child, in reality, wasn’t a victim of someone else’s cruelty, unfairness, or wrongdoing, like when a teacher “didn’t tell us that was going to be on the test” or “Coach never lets me start.” A victim mentality sure sounds a lot like whining, and we didn’t tolerate a finger pointed outward if three fingers were pointing back.

So, it was particularly shocking as I was writing For All Who Wander to realize for the first time — at least for a season — I had assumed the role of “victim” on occasion, when no ill will had been intended. It didn’t quite look the same as it had in my children, though. For me, victim mentality manifested itself in a pattern of being offended.

When you’re wrestling in your faith, I imagine it’s also common to be wrestling in life. This was the case for me, and maybe you understand it from the inside out, too. I was struggling and striving in faith and life, and I was looking for worldly success and approval from people to fill the voids only intended for God. I’m embarrassed to admit there were times I was outwardly critical of people while inwardly jealous of their accomplishment or acclaim. If others were doing well or excelling in places I wasn’t, I was sometimes overly sensitive to the things they said or did. I was judgmental toward and skeptical and cynical of others.

A while back, my friend Diane helped me see a profound truth about being offended: it’s always a choice. We can choose whether or not to take offense, and that means we can choose not to receive it! That thought was new to me, revolutionary even, and I’ve held onto that golden nugget ever since. If I sense feelings of offense creeping in, I purposefully and categorically reject them.

In her book, The Overachievers: The Secret Lives of Driven Kids, Alexandra Robbins says, “Someone else’s success is not your failure.” This is undeniably true, yet sometimes someone else’s success can feel like a personal failure. It happens when we’re looking inward or focusing on ourselves.

Slights, marginalization, rejection — I suspect little more than vain imaginations most of the time. In my case, my perception was all askew because I was focusing on pretty much everything but God.

Life grows increasingly dark when our back is to the light.

But here’s the thing that blows my mind: God still loved me when I was wandering. When I was so stinkin’ unlovable, He loved me anyway! Isn’t that good news? Isn’t that great news?!

Scripture tells us that God records our wanderings and treasures our tears. God is for me, and He is for you too!

I mean, really, “if God is for us, who is against us?” (Romans 8:31b)

We know that God created us in His own image, but we act like we’ve forgotten it. We’re created to be like Him, to be His image bearers in a broken world. And one way we can emulate Christ is to be “for-you” kind of people.

I share a lot about the tension between belief and unbelief in For All Who Wander. Remarkably, God used a spiritual desert in my life to demonstrate His no-matter-what kind of faithfulness and instill in me a greater understanding of His character. After lingering in Psalm 56 a while, I realized what is true of God is what I long to be true of me — for the people in my life to be able to say, This I know: Robin is for me.

What does it mean to be a “for-you” kind of person? We learn a lot when we look at Jesus and how He walked out His life as a man. He always spoke truth in love. He extended forgiveness again and again. He lived a sacrificial life, serving others, even up to and beyond death. He was compassionate. He invested in people. He sought out the outcasts and marginalized and invited them into His life. He sought the favor and approval of God, not man.

Being a for-you sort of person means we celebrate the successes of others as opposed to receiving it as an indictment against ourselves. We give the benefit of the doubt rather than receiving offense after offense. For-you people look for opportunities to care for others in word and deed. We share in the joys and hardships life throws at us. We listen with our ears and eyes and leave our phones on the table or in our bag. We’re quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry (James 1:19). We consider others’ needs more precious than our own, and we do whatever we can to reconcile and restore relationship. A for-you woman lives at peace with everyone, as much as she has anything to do with it, anyway (Romans 12:18).

For-you people simply follow God’s example.

So, who’s in? Let’s be for-you kind of people.

 

[bctt tweet=”Scripture tells us that God records our wanderings and treasures our tears. God is for me, and He is for you too! -@robindance:” username=”incourage”]

When Things Get Up Close and Personal

by

I noticed an envelope taped to our front door as I pulled into our driveway. I couldn’t think of anything I’d done to deserve a thank-you note so I figured it was a note of encouragement from a friend. I didn’t even open the garage door; instead, I parked in the driveway, hopped out of my car, and hurried to the front door to read it.

Imagine my shock when I discovered it was not a note. It was a notice from the neighborhood police, a.k.a the H.O.A. architectural committee. They had stopped by to notify us that our “front porch columns and windowsills needed to be repaired and painted within thirty days” or we’d be fined.

I don’t know which was worse — my frustration or humiliation!

I pictured neighbors sitting around a table talking about us in a homeowners’ meeting while writing other citations for excessive yard debris and inappropriate paint colors. 

My husband got home a few minutes later and was greeted by his wife wagging an envelope in her hand, “There are plenty of other house in much worse condition! How could they even see the windowsills and front porch? Our house is forty feet from the curb, and we’ve got huge trees blocking the view!” 

To prove my point, I marched to the street and announced that I could barely see the windows or columns. “Our house looks fine!” I insisted.

And it did — from a distance. But as I walked back into our yard and got closer to the porch, I had to admit there were a few window sills with peeling paint and parts of our columns where the wood was damaged. 

That weekend, we bought paint and woodwork supplies, borrowed extension ladders, and asked my mom to babysit. Unfortunately, the damage was worse than we realized, and what we thought would take a few hours turned into a few weekends of scraping, sanding, caulking, hammering, priming, and painting. 

On our last day of repairs, I was actually thankful someone had noticed the problems we didn’t see. If the damage had been left unchecked, we would have ended up with more extensive repairs and expensive replacements.

I was no longer angry at whoever left that envelope on our door. Instead, I was glad they cared enough to get up close and personal, to notice and tell us something we didn’t want to hear.

And so it is with Jesus. He sees the places in my heart and in my life that need repair. He cares enough to come up close and get uncomfortably personal at times, showing me things I don’t want to see about myself or my relationships — all because He loves me and wants what is best for me.

But He doesn’t just list out all the repairs I need to make. He offers what I need, to do what is needed: grace, forgiveness, mercy, love, patience, humility, and so much more.

It can feel really uncomfortable to be known so intimately, but it can also be comforting when we recognize the love that motivates God’s nudges and love notes found in His Word.

Is there an area in your life that’s been neglected? A relationship that needs repair or a conversation you’ve avoided because it requires too much work? Don’t let it get worse just because it’s hard. 

We’ve got an up close and personal Savior who sees, knows, and loves us too much to just let things go until they fall apart. He sees what we can’t and offers all the help we need for repairs, renovations, and complete transformations. 

 

[bctt tweet=”We’ve got an up close and personal Savior who sees, knows, and loves us too much to just let things go until they fall apart. -@ReneeSwope:” username=”incourage”]

State of (in)courage 2020: Love Over All

by

Dearest (in)courage sisters,

I’ve been thinking and praying about you, about this space, and I want to pull up my virtual chair and have a community heart-to-heart today. Are you with me?

There are a lot of things we could dedicate this year to as individuals and collectively as an (in)courage sisterhood. A list of good and worthy goals immediately starts scrolling through my mind in typical January fashion: get healthier, be stronger, start running or run longer, build a business, chase a dream, save more, give more, be bolder in our faith, grow deeper friendships, seek forgiveness and give it freely, minimize social media and watch less TV . . . just to name a few. Are these things vying for your focus and attention too?

There’s nothing wrong with anything on this list. But as I’ve been praying over (in)courage and where we’re headed in 2020, these good pursuits begin to dim when I start thinking about one Person and what He said.

Jesus pretty much gave His friends the ultimate “new year, new life, make-a-difference, live-with-purpose” vision, all summed up in this simple statement: Love one another.

Here’s the balance of what Jesus said, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35 NIV)

Paul fleshes it out a little more in Colossians when he writes,

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”
Colossians 3:12-14 (NIV)

Over everything, put on love.

If I’m really honest, sometimes this feels like too tall an order when I look at the world around us. The problems are so deep and the divisions are so wide. The pain of this world is searing, the brokenness jarring, and we live in a culture that promotes rhetoric and finger-pointing — even (especially?) in Christian circles and “righteous” comment threads — and I’m often hard-pressed to find anything that resembles love.

Do you feel the weight of the world’s woes and foes too?

But Jesus knew that would be the case. He knew that love was the mark that would set His friends apart, and as His followers, we’ve got to relearn what true love looks like. “By this” — love — “everyone will know that you are my disciples.”

So here’s the deal, friends: If we’re going to spend time sharing stories and life in this online space, if we’re going to go first with our struggles, dive into Scripture, support each other in prayer, and cling to hope together, shouldn’t the point be to grow in love? Let’s be resolute about living out the resolution that came straight from the mouth of Jesus.

Love over all is what Jesus was all about.

But why and how can we actually put on love over all and love others well?

As I write, I’ve got three kids sick with the flu and that’s so small compared to cancer and job loss and chronic illness and the list goes ever-on of the real and searing ways people in our community are suffering. How do we give when we’re wrung out ourselves? And when someone cuts you off on the freeway and steals your Costco parking space, and a coworker misunderstands you and your spouse or friend betrays you, and you turn on the news and party lines and heartbreaking injustice just might suck the last breath out of you, love can feel like a garment that’s too itchy and tight to possibly put on! Am I the only one?

Yet the simple words from 1 John 4:19 pack a powerful spirit-gut punch: “We love because he first loved us.” Look back at the passage from Colossians, and we see it there too! We put on love because we are dearly loved by God.

We cannot love out of obligation, bitterness, resentment, or judgment. We cannot love for the sake of morality or shiny appearances. We cannot love based on an agenda or to bully our way toward change. We can only love by knowing deep in our beloved daughter souls that God first loved us! In our weakness and depravity, in our poor choices, bad moods, and other-inflicted wounds, God loves us wholly, completely, without cost or condition.

If you haven’t picked up on it by now, Love Over All is our 2020 (in)courage anthem song. Our heartbeat. The conviction to which we will set our minds and feet.

The only possible way we can claim “Love Over All” without it being a trite cliché is to first recognize how God’s love and Christ’s sacrifice is over all our lives. Then, out of joy and gratitude, we can turn our hearts, actions, and attitudes to put on love above all else. Only then can God’s love work in us and through us and mark us as people who know Jesus.

Let’s be daughters who know our Savior so well we start looking more and more like Him.

This is what we will set our hearts on this next year at (in)courage. We will think through, wrestle with, talk openly about, and boldly (courageously!) live out Christ’s call to LOVE OVER ALL. Our friends at DaySpring are committed to this too! So you’ll be seeing exciting new content and resources from DaySpring as well that will help foster this conversation and encourage our hearts as we press into Love Over All.

Each month we will explore a different aspect of Love Over All. We don’t expect it to be all Christian glitter rainbows and tidy bows. We’re not after checking more boxes off a spiritual list. We’re after spiritual transformation for ourselves and others that only Jesus can bring!

We are ready to come to this (in)courage table every day with stories from our beautifully real and unshiny lives. We’re ready to discover together in fresh ways what it means to Love Over All.

So what does this mean for you, dear (in)courage sister? Love Over All isn’t a just content plan we’re offering but an invitation for purposeful living. Are you in?

Here are  three things you can do to say Yes to Love Over All:

  1. Meditate: Write John 13:33-34 and Colossians 3:12-14 on index cards or sticky notes. Post them where you’ll see them. Read and pray through them daily.
  2. Identify: Name one thing in your life that’s keeping you from putting on love. (If you’re really brave, share it below in the comments or with someone you trust.)
  3. Invite: Ask a friend to join you in choosing Love Over All this year! Share this post on social media and use hashtags #LoveOverAll and #inLoveOverAll all year long! Because we’re always better together.

And one last thing I would say if I could reach through this screen and across a real table is this: You are so very loved, friend — by God above and your (in)courage sisterhood right here.

 

[bctt tweet=”Let’s be resolute about living out the resolution that came straight from the mouth of Jesus: Love one another. #loveoverall #inloveoverall -@beckykeife:” username=”incourage”]

Surrender Your Canvas to the Father, the Artist

by

Some years ago, before I ministered through writing and art, I had some slightly darker days — days where I couldn’t get up from bed because of the deep sadness in my heart, days where absolutely nothing piqued my interest.

It was on one of those days the thought of painting made me sit up straight. I voiced the idea to my father who was eagerly waiting for me to smile again. He immediately volunteered to drive me to the nearest art store to purchase some paint. On reaching there, I picked up a box of watercolours, a palette, and a brush even though I had no idea what I wanted to paint. My parents were hopeful and thrilled that I had finally mustered up the energy to leave the bed, my room, and the house.

On reaching home, I set out to work right away. I hadn’t painted in a while, so I was rusty. After some time, I realized the hues I was mixing were the same as my mood — negative, unhappy, and hopeless. I remember the feeling as each colour ignited the blank canvas. I didn’t feel better as I thought I would. I looked at what I had done and realized how ugly it looked. I felt more miserable than when I had started. I threw my brush aside and went back to sleep. I did not want to paint anymore. My father sighed in sadness. Those weren’t the best days. But it got better. I got better. I recovered. Jesus put joy, hope and peace back in my heart.

But it wasn’t until a year later, I discovered the canvas I attempted to paint tucked away in a corner while I was cleaning up my room. I opened it up expecting a half blank canvas, but instead, I found it completed and coloured in. I stared in disbelief at the canvas I thought was thrown aside and incomplete. Then it dawned on me — my father had finished up the canvas I couldn’t complete that day. Tears came to my eyes as I kept staring at the completed canvas. There was a world of difference between my strokes and my father’s intentional strokes. My father’s side looked way better.

As I stood there with all those flashbacks and memories, I had a revelation from Heaven. This is exactly what Jesus wants of me. He wants me to surrender the canvas of my life to Him when it’s too hard to do it on my own. When I cannot figure out the next stroke or colour I should choose, my Father in Heaven volunteers to do it for me. He will finish the work I never had the capability to even start. If only I had surrendered the brush, if I had relinquished control and let Him paint, my life would have looked so beautiful. But here I am, learning only years later what a wonderful artist Jesus is after completely messing up my life.

Friend, if you think you have made a mess out of your life, surrender your canvas. Your Father will finish the painting you couldn’t. He will write your story, and the colours will be beautiful. My dark days were followed by a beautiful display of colour I could never have imagined or achieved on my own. Some days will be filled with darker hues and some days will be brighter, but the Father knows exactly what colour needs to be thrown in to make a beautiful painting. Every colour will work together to create something glorious you cannot see at this moment. The completed work will be beautiful, and it will be your Father’s doing. Surrender the brush and the canvas. Let the Artist do what He does best.

Give God the right to direct your life, and as you trust him along the way you’ll find he pulled it off perfectly!
Psalms 37:5 (TPT)

 

[bctt tweet=”Let the Artist do what He does best in your life. It will be beautiful. -Neeba Abraham:” username=”incourage”]

Do You Value All People?

by

I was sitting in a quaint neighborhood café with an old friend, drinking a steaming cup of chai with a Latin twist, and catching up when she suddenly became serious and asked, “How do I make more friends from other cultures?” Amid a conversation about marriage and babies, her question came out of nowhere, but I understood.

Her family had just recently moved across the country to a new city and a new home. They needed something fast and had found an apartment with all the modern flares within an affordable price. The only problem, though, was that everyone in their neighborhood was of the same ethnicity and socio-economic class. They all did, lived, and breathed the same things, but my friend wanted more. She didn’t want to live in a bubble. She didn’t want to be blinded by her own monocultural community to the lives, needs, and joys of other peoples, nor did she want to live a life in which she didn’t have differing ideas and expressions and lifestyles to challenge and stretch her own. And as one of her sole minority friends, I was glad she had asked me for help.

So, we pushed our mugs aside and pulled out our Bibles because if ever there was a model for how to connect with people of other cultures, it is found in the life and ministry of Jesus. This brown-skinned Jewish man seamlessly related with both Jews and Gentiles, with people who shared His ethnicity and people who didn’t, and He beckons us to follow after Him.

The gospels paint a picture of Jesus engaging in a diverse range of cross-cultural relationships that are both rich and beautiful. We see Him speaking to a Samaritan woman at a well in John 4. He heals the servant of a Roman centurion in Matthew 8, and He speaks with a group of Greeks during Passover in John 12, among many others. In each of these encounters, He always seems to know what to say, how to connect with people, and how to make them feel loved. He dines with people, gives them food, and tells them about the everlasting nourishment that comes from God alone. He cares for the sick, walks miles to weep with those who weep, and calls people He’s never met “daughter.”

For Jesus, it was never about the cultural experience. It was always about the people of those cultures.

I think this is where we often get caught up. We love breakfast tacos and queso, going on mission trips to Central America and Africa, wearing clothes with indigenous patterns, and listening to hip hop, but we don’t have a single African American, Mexican American, or Native American friend. We’ve prioritized our own individualism and the desire for unique experiences over making relationships with real people, and that’s the problem.

I’m not saying you can’t go on vacation to a country outside the USA. Sure, even Jesus traveled throughout His life. He reclined on different sofas and ate different foods, but that was never the end goal. His purpose, always, was to go after men and women, to meet them where they are, listen to their stories, and show them His love. Jesus Himself says in John 12:32, “I will draw all people to myself.” It didn’t matter how far away someone was or how inconvenient the travel would be, He put a precedence on reaching out to the people around him, no matter their culture, ethnicity, gender, socio-economic status or religious affiliation because Jesus valued all people.

This is the lesson we learn from Jesus: We must value spending time with people that are different from us.

Want to know where to start with cross-cultural relationships? Start by valuing every single person from every single culture as special and important, for no other reason than the fact that they are made in the image of God. We don’t value someone because of what they can do for us, how they look, or how they make us feel. We don’t value immigrants, as some people think, because they clean our homes and hotels. We don’t value Indians simply because many of them are making advancements in our science and tech industries. We don’t value Mexicans just because we like taquerias. We value people — all people — because God made us all and is drawing all of us to Himself.

Practically, this means we need to go out of our way to spend time in spaces that are ethnically and culturally different from us. If you have a Somali neighborhood, make it a point to regularly shop for groceries at their supermarket, and while there, talk to people, smile at other shoppers, and find a way to make friends with the workers. Consider taking your kids to a playground in a different part of town, a part where they’ll rub shoulders with children of other ethnicities. The same thing could be said for where you get your hair cut, where you work out, where you go to church, and even where your kids go to school. Think of the main ethnic demographics in your community and seek them out to show them you value their lives, their stories and that you want to be their friend. This is what Jesus did; let’s be like Him and do likewise.

 

[bctt tweet=”This is the lesson we learn from Jesus: We must value spending time with people that are different from us. -@drmichellereyes:” username=”incourage”]

Kingdom Ways Here on Earth

by

For the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit.
Romans 14:17 (CSB)

When I log on to social media, I am quickly reminded how much I’m polarized by politics and theology. My instinct is to jump in and either defend or attack depending on the situation. It’s as if God’s commandments for how we’re to lovingly treat one another don’t apply to our political and theological differences. I don’t want my theo-political allegiances to override my neighborly obligations. But how?

In 1 John 4:20, we read, “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For the person who does not love his brother he has seen cannot love the God he has not seen.”

While many of us wouldn’t want to describe our posture toward another as hateful, how many of us harbor contempt, dislike, or ill will toward our political opponents? If we do, honesty demands we admit we are guilty of hate. It’s only in confessing our sin of hatred that we will be healed and set free in Christ to better love others.

It makes one wonder how on earth Jesus’ twelve disciples grew in their love for one another given the likelihood they held different political views. I have a hunch that through the power of the Holy Spirit, fellowship with one another, suffering together, observing Jesus’ life, and by personally experiencing Christ’s love, they saw that their obligation to love one another was more important than their political disagreements.

As they spent time with Jesus, they discovered the nature of the kingdom is not centered on political and theological tribalism, one-upping one another, or constant division. Instead as Paul says in Romans 14:17b, the kingdom of God is characterized by “righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit” — what they saw in Jesus.

Let’s be intentional with our words, speaking words that encourage and uplift those around us, including those who may believe differently.

This message was written by Marlena Graves and appears in A Moment to Breathe: 365 Devotions That Meet You in Your Everyday Mess from the (in)courage community.

 

 

[bctt tweet=”It’s only in confessing our sin of hatred that we will be healed and set free in Christ to better love others. -@MarlenaGraves:” username=”incourage”]

Living a Legacy of Faith

by

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by God’s will, for the sake of the promise of life in Christ Jesus:

To Timothy, my dearly loved son.

Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.

I thank God, whom I serve with a clear conscience as my ancestors did, when I constantly remember you in my prayers night and day. Remembering your tears, I long to see you so that I may be filled with joy. I recall your sincere faith that first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and now, I am convinced, is in you also.

Therefore, I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is in you through the laying on of my hands. For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but one of power, love, and sound judgment.
2 Timothy 1:1-7 (CSB)

The legacy of Timothy’s faith and ministry started first in his grandmother, two generations before him. We cannot underestimate the long-lasting power and impact of the Holy Spirit when we see how the good work that began in them continued on in Timothy and to many more through his ministry.

As women, as grandmothers, mothers, aunts, sisters, as leaders, let’s remember that what seems like ordinary work can sow seeds for God’s kingdom to break through, now and in generations after us. Let’s not despise the mundane but embrace every small task He sets before us and live out our faith with a spirit of power, love, and sound judgment.

Lord, let Your kingdom come through us.  

 

[bctt tweet=”As women, as leaders, let’s remember that what seems like ordinary work can sow seeds for God’s kingdom to break through, now and in generations after us. ” username=”incourage”]

You’re Already ‘The Best’ with God

by

The news dropped out of nowhere. Then it embarrassed me. Then it shocked me. I’m a simple working writer – neither famous nor important. I just wrestle with this curious work – writing – and seek to serve with it. Still, to be honest, I wanted more. As petty as it sounds, I longed to write a “best seller.” Make it happen, Lord, I actually prayed that. (Can you imagine?) Yet, it didn’t happen.

So, over time, I must’ve stopped worrying about it. Come morning every day, I just put my hand to the plow and kept working, slowly noticing the work becoming its own joy.

Then, out of the blue, a few days ago, something did happen. And I felt confused. Unsure? You, too, may have experienced the odd surprise when a longtime prayer gets answered. The shock can give us pause. Do we tell God thank you? Are we ready for it? I wasn’t sure at first how to react.

In fact, it was an ordinary day. So, I was gobsmacked to discover that one of my humbling books – a devotional written nearly ten years ago — was now a “best seller.”

Nobody called me. The heavens didn’t open. My publisher didn’t text. Angels didn’t sing. Instead, a friend asked what devo to give her daughter for Christmas. So, daring to suggest mine, I copied and shared a link to my publisher and there it was – a happy banner next to my book with two words: best seller.

I gasped. And, yes. I jumped from my desk and did a happy dance. Then I hurried to tell my husband. He gave me a thumbs up — two thumbs up, actually. “Great job, sugar pie!”

Then I went back to work.

That’s because as soon I saw the best-seller tag, I stopped still to realize this utter truth: We’re already “the best” with God. That’s how He see us.

Yes, me. Yes, you. With God as our Helper, we’re already His winners, which surely sounds like a cliché. But it’s real and it’s true. With Him, we’ve always been His number one — this year, last year, every year. So, all those wasted times worrying, while I skulked around watching other authors stand tall in the spotlight with their famous books, envying their “success,” I forgot to remember the Lord’s promise about me and my humble work: “You are precious and honored in my sight” (Isaiah 43:4).

That’s right. The Lord thinks I’m the bee’s knees. No better yet, He says I’m the apple of His eye. (Psalm 17:8, Zechariah 2:8) That’s how He sees me. And you, too.

“You are mine,” the Lord says (Isaiah 43:1). “I have summoned you by name.”

Indeed, He gave His sinless life for us.

So, never mind that we’re not “famous” or big time or that a goal remains afar. Never mind that our ministries, church work, or day-to-day labor isn’t a social-media sensation with zillions of follows. Never mind that our books or missions or brands haven’t made a splash. Here’s what matters: “You are precious and honored in my sight.”

So, we’re already loved, already good, already saved, already blessed, already regarded by God and held by Him in high esteem. We’re already His best.

Clinging to that truth, I can resist the struggle to strain more to be even better or to toil for more accolades or to work harder to promote my “winning” book.

In Christ, we can lay down such burdens. He already did the best work, accomplishing for us all that we could seek to achieve – plus all that matters most. So, we’re already saved, already good, already blessed, already best.

Reflecting on this good news, I considered adding some wise writer takeaway to this little story. Instead, I’ll share again that one Bible truth I needed to remember all along.

“You are precious and honored in my sight.”

As this New Year rumbles into itself, that’s the perspective to walk in and know. He sees you, and He is pleased.

So, we’re already the best. But should we be surprised? Our God Himself is great.

 

[bctt tweet=”We’re already His best, so we can resist the struggle to strain more to be even better or to toil for more accolades. -@PatriciaRaybon:” username=”incourage”]

The Unexpected Gain of Giving Yourself Away

by

It was my dream for as long as I can remember, back when a girl imagined true love and a house full of children:

I’d be the mom who baked homemade chocolate chip cookies for her kids after school.

Thus, when I married, it didn’t take long to set up a mixer and buy butter, sugar, and vanilla. I filled my cabinets with all the makings for magic. Even before children entered the story, I baked for my husband with all the love I had in my heart.

When divorce and remarriage changed the ingredients, adding angst to our family mix, I rolled up my sleeves and doubled both my recipes and my love. Day after day I baked, serving up cookie offerings to both children and adults, all of us who mourned our losses.

Seeing my children with cookies in hand, the neighbor kids started to come over (and their parents). Then, the piano students I gave lessons to (and their parents). When my husband started his own business, I baked cookies by the hundreds for new vendors and clients. Not to mention teachers, coaches, and friends and loved ones enduring a crisis.

Soon, I was known as the woman who always had cookies on the kitchen counter. Visitors stopped knocking at the front door, knowing they could walk in whenever they needed a fix. Once a neighbor mentioned buying me a Krispy-Kreme-like sign, one I could light up whenever I pulled a new batch from the oven.

“That way everyone knows when to come over,” she said with a grin.

She might’ve been joking, but I secretly dreamed of such a gift. What a thought! Baking was my way of delivering love on a plate, a small offering of joy and presence for those who needed it most.

I must’ve made thousands of cookies over the span of close to twenty years, far more than most will make in a lifetime. I didn’t mind. Not at all. It was one of my greatest delights during those twenty years of life.

But then a crazy thing called “cancer” took my tongue and my taste.

Afterwards, doctors tried to be optimistic, encouraging me with comments like “At least you’re alive!” They asked me questions like “Can you taste anything?” Every time I answered the same: “A little, but nothing sweet.”

They shrugged and moved on. In their minds, losing taste was nothing compared to gaining life. But they didn’t know about the neighborhood kids, the warm chocolate chip cookies, and the sign I wanted to hang in my window.

They didn’t know.

It’s been difficult for me, learning to live without one of my five senses. You don’t realize how much you savor a thing until you have less of it — or none at all.

Even so.

Recently a dear friend lost a close family member. I ached for her loss but didn’t know what to do. So I got to work in the kitchen, stirring up several dishes to fill up her grief-emptied family. In addition, I baked up my famous, from-scratch chocolate chip cookies.

Then, while the cookies baked, I stopped.

Closed my eyes.

Inhaled.

In a moment, memories of my children, bursting through the front door after school and running for the kitchen counter, warmed me.

I opened my eyes and smiled. Then I got back to work, feeling only the slightest twinge of melancholy at what I knew I was missing. I expected grief and self-pity, maybe a twinge of bitterness at my unfair losses.

Instead, I experienced something more exquisite than the taste of a warm chocolate chip cookie straight from the oven:

Love, an overwhelming wave of sweet, tender love.

My eyes brimmed, my heart pounded, and warmth traveled from my feet up through my chest.

Why? Because healing comes when we choose to love from the place of loss.

I have two questions for you, questions that will likely make you uncomfortable but hold the power of great hope:

  1. What have you lost that you cannot recover? I’m not so naive as to think my silly little loss comes close to comparing with the losses so many of you mourn. I know I can’t possibly fathom the loss of my legs or burying my child. The mere thought makes it hard to breathe. But whatever it is, name it. Acknowledge it. Put it right there on the kitchen counter where you can see it for what it is.
  2. Now, what might you gain by giving it away? In other words, how could that loss become an uncommon companionship to someone else’s pain? There are scores of people who need to know they’re not alone. You have something to offer that so few others have, something hidden beneath the grave of your grief that promises resurrection and new life.

For others, yes. But also for you. Jesus said it this way:

For whoever wants to save their life will lose it,
but whoever loses their life for me will save it.
Luke 9:24 (NIV)

This is the unexpected gain of giving yourself away. It doesn’t mean the losses won’t hurt, and you might feel a wave of anger or sadness now and then. But there is a sweetness found in loving from our lack that can’t be found anywhere else. And, even better, healing happens when the grave of our losses becomes our life-giving offerings of love.

 

[bctt tweet=”Healing comes when we choose to love from the place of loss. -@MicheleCushatt:” username=”incourage”]

Seeing the Full Picture When We Look Back

by

When darkness tries to roll over my bones
When sorrow comes to steal the joy I own
When brokenness and pain is all I know
I won’t be shaken, no, I won’t be shaken
 “Stand in Your Love” by Josh Baldwin

I sang along to the worship song, not mindlessly but not completely focused either. Suddenly, tears began running down my face, and my brain registered the words my heart was already wrestling. Standing in the dark auditorium in the first church service of the year, I remembered something that hadn’t made my best-of list for the previous year, my Christmas letter, or my annual photobook for the grandparents.

Like everyone, I’d spent the past few weeks reflecting on the year, gathering up all my highlights and favorites, my blessings and gratitude. Never one to pretend like life is perfect, I’m usually quick to acknowledge the struggles I’m facing. (Like the year that my daughter broke her leg and spent nearly ten months in some form of a cast? Incredibly difficult, which I told every single person who asked and many who didn’t.) But who wants to hear about the year that my faith was, in fact, deeply shaken?

You can search every shelf, but you won’t find a card that shouts, “Joy to the Lord! This year I doubted God!”

The truth of 2019 for me was that for the first time in my life, I questioned God’s goodness. I questioned His sovereignty. I questioned my own adherence to beliefs that weren’t doing a thing in the face of a particular grief.

I also took my family to Disney World! And published a book! And celebrated my twentieth wedding anniversary!

How could all of that be true at the same time? In the same year? How could a big, wonderful, beautiful year also contain some serious anguish and doubt that shook me to my core? How could one small season hold the weight of enormous blessings and crushing burdens?

I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I know it’s true. Last year was ugly and beautiful, disappointing and delightful, and surprising in the best and worst ways. All of the amazing things that happened aren’t less true or less valuable because of my struggle. And the fact that I wrestled with my faith in a new and painful way wasn’t reduced by the fact that I experienced a lot of joy. Our lives are full of both joy and pain — often at the very same time. And that’s okay. We can acknowledge both. We can hold both.

And we can worship God through both.

I’m thankful that song reminded me of the hard parts of last year, because in my efforts to choose joy and focus on the positive through the holidays and my year-end reflections, I’d left out half the story. The good parts of the year are actually richer because of the thread of pain and doubt and struggle that winds through the weeks and months. Because only by seeing the good and the hard intertwined and overlapping do I see how faithful God has been to me.

He’s not just here when I’m happy. He’s not just here when I’m grateful. He’s not just here when I’m rock solid, believing with all my heart. He’s here, always, no matter what. He’s here no matter how much my circumstances, my life, my heart change. He’s here, and He never changes.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.
Hebrews 13:8 (CSB)

Last year was a full year, and the Lord was there for every good, bad, and in-between bit of it. And I won’t forget it.

How was God faithful to you last year?

 

[bctt tweet=”He’s not just here when I’m rock solid, believing with all my heart. He’s here, always, no matter what. -@marycarver:” username=”incourage”]

You ARE Winning Your Race!

by

Recently, I was given an assignment:

Ask a few people who know you well what they think your biggest strengths are and where they see you being brave in the midst of what you’re dealing with.

Honestly, I was afraid to pose the question to those closest to me. My reservation was not because of what they might or might not say. My friends are beautiful people, so I knew they would respond with encouraging words. I was reluctant to ask them the question because I didn’t want to interrupt their day. My husband is a busy businessman. His time is reserved for clients all over the nation. My friend is a teacher at an elementary school, whose attention is solely focused on the little learners in her class. My other friend is an artist and work-from-home-mom of four, whose care is in constant demand. And my mom, well I am still amazed at how she is less available as a retiree than she was when she worked a full-time job.

I didn’t think that they should be disrupting the rhythm and demands of their day on my behalf. “They don’t have time,” I thought. And I didn’t believe that I was worthy of their encouraging words. So even as I write this, I have no idea why I actually followed through with the assignment (probably because I am a bit of a perfectionist who has to finish what she’s started — classic enneagram one!). So, at the beginning of the day, I quickly texted the question and hit send.

“Well at least I did the assignment,” I thought. I resolved that if no one replied, I would be fine with that. After all, what right did I have to require their time and attention.

The school teacher responded so quickly that I was baffled by how fast she must have read the text and typed her response. It read: 

Your biggest strength is your ability to teach and reach all levels. You do this with such care, and you are super prepared. You have such grace for the “ignorant.”

A few minutes later, the artist-mom-of-four replied:

I think your strength is your ability to transmit the knowledge and peace God has placed within you. This comes across to many as grace, acceptance, wisdom, and a willingness to hear someone’s heart. This connects to how you are brave because you are willing to show this same ability in stressful situations and toward difficult people. This gives you a strong voice in the darkness, but it is not shouting with hate but holding steadfast with love and humility. 

By the afternoon, my mom had texted back with an abridged response, indicating her level of busyness:

Greatest strengths: love for God and all mankind, positive, focused, honest, determined, sincere.

Brave: stepping out in faith. Trusting God.

And in a fashion that is truly my husband, he slid into home base just before bed time with this response:

Strengths: Learning new things, work ethic, caring for people that others discard (and other nice things I’ll keep to myself)

Brave: You are out on a limb doing things that are brand new to you. Connecting all the dots, even the ones outside of your natural strengths and interests.

It was difficult for me to read their words. In the midst of all the challenging and new endeavors that have chased me down and overtaken me, I imagined that those closest to me could only see a whirlwind of anxiety, fear, and panic occupying the space where Lucretia once existed. I have felt like a mess and was sure that is how I was perceived. But their words described the woman I long to be, a woman I would admire and celebrate.

So, I paused to admire her. I looked at how she’d said yes to hard things far outside of her comfort zone. I reflected on how her unconventional methods — the ones that got her rejected by the status quo — had afforded her seats at tables that had been longing to host her. The cost had been significant, but she was confident that the rewards would be exponentially greater. I rejoiced that her fear was overshadowed and outweighed by her courageous love. And this woman, the one those closest to me described, knew that she was not alone. She knew that she was simply an expression of a loving and generous God.

Although I had been reluctant to reach out for them, I paused and considered the gift I’d been given through their affirmations. I needed to gaze at their picture of me. I inhaled. I decided to believe them. I exhaled, refreshed with a new mindset. Where I could only see struggle and exhaustion, friends saw my race marked with endurance and winning.

Now its your turn: Ask a few people who know you well what they think your biggest strengths are and where they see you being brave in the midst of what you’re dealing.

 

[bctt tweet=”Run your race with courage. -@brownicity:” username=”incourage”]

The Gift of a Normal Day

by

I stood in front of the oven peeling bacon out of the package and laying out strips on the cookie sheet. My older kids had just jumped on the school bus, and the youngest slept upstairs. After sliding the sheet into the oven, I sat at the kitchen table and opened emails. Just a normal day.

I used to despise normal days. They seemed as colorful as mud. I wanted to do something impactful — not write emails, wash laundry, cook bacon.

After clearing my inbox, I grabbed my phone off the counter and opened Facebook. My feed started with a picture of a friend’s child in the hospital — with leukemia. I scrolled down. An image of a friend’s Honda totaled (but thank God she walked away). I kept scrolling. A picture of a smoothie my friend drank for lunch.

God, thank you for this normal day.

Normal days are a gift — days when healthy kids eat Cheerios before heading out the door, when adults have jobs to drive to, and laundry stains remind us of the chocolate ice cream on Friday night. God created our days from the beginning to be gifted with the rhythms of normal. The sun rises and sets. The body wakes and sleeps.

When God formed Adam and Eve from the dust of the earth, He placed them in the Garden to steward creation. Talk about normal as mud. But when sin entered the world, so also did death, disease, kids with childhood cancer, and husbands who leave.

The oven timer dinged, and I pulled out my crispy bacon, placed a few pieces on a plate, grabbed my coffee, and sat at the kitchen table. In the light of all the chaos in the world, normal moments now seem holy.

My mind wandered to Jesus. What did His normal life look like as Savior of the world? For thirty years — much like that of anyone else in the ancient Near East, I supposed. I imagined Him as a boy running down the path straight through town, playing tag with neighborhood friends. I envisioned Him washing His hands before Mary served fig stew. Maybe as an adult, He spent His afternoons carving wood — shaving by shaving — as a master carpenter, following Joseph’s trade. If normal life was sacred enough for Jesus, maybe it is for us as well.

His miracles restored people to normalcy. When Jesus healed a little girl, she ate (Mark 5:41-43). Jesus didn’t tell her to leave everything and live an “extraordinary” life. Or how about Peter’s mother who lay ill? Jesus healed her, and she immediately returned to normal housework, serving those in her home (Luke 4:38-39). When Lazarus rose from the dead by Jesus’ words, he testified to the miracle, yes, but he also returned to his life — whatever work he performed before the healing.

If Jesus used His miraculous powers to heal the lame, dead, and sick — only for them to return to regular rhythms of life — shouldn’t we rethink the gift of a normal day? Not every day will include heal-the-blind moments. Goodness, Moses watched sheep for forty years in the desert before ever seeing a burning bush only to return to the desert for another forty years helping fickle people get along and obey God.

What does your normal day look like? Maybe normal for you (like me) right now is raising kids. But maybe you care for an aging parent, work long hours at the office launching a new product, or clean houses.

Sometimes God leads us in seasons that are extraordinary, exciting, new. But most of the time, God leads us through “normal.” Get up. Go to work. Come home. Go to sleep. Repeat.

Some seasons of normal hurt — like the months I visited my dad during my lunch break as I watched him weaken from brain cancer. The day he died was one of the worst non-normal days of my life.

And those days of extraordinary bliss? Yes. They are beautiful. Marrying my best friend in the presence of three hundred of our favorite people on a warm Southern California night, then taking off for seven days in Maui? Amazing. But then after the honeymoon? We went back to our day jobs — the gift of normal.

I finished my cup of coffee and bacon, closed my computer, and walked upstairs to my daughter’s room. She greeted me with, “Mama, it’s you.” A normal greeting from a normal little girl on a normal Wednesday. And the rest of the day was normal, too.

 

[bctt tweet=”If Jesus used his miraculous powers to heal the lame, dead, and sick—only for them to return to regular rhythms of life—shouldn’t we rethink the gift of a normal day? -@Seana_S_Scott:” username=”incourage”]

Happy Launch Day to
For All Who Wander!

by

Faith is tidy and neat for some, never unwavering and always so sure. And maybe that’s how you used to feel, but now your once-sure beliefs are less certain, the prescribed faith of your youth no longer enough.

Perhaps life isn’t turning out like you thought it would. Heartbreak and challenges stir doubt. Sunday school answers fall short. God seems distant.

If you’ve grown up in the church or identified as a Christian for any length of time even, there’s a good chance you’ve wrestled with doubts or questions. Maybe right now you, or others you care about, are struggling in faith and life but longing to believe.

We hear you, sister, and we’re with you.

That’s why we’re so thrilled that our newest book, For All Who Wander, by (in)courage writer Robin Dance, is now available.

Yay!!

For All Who Wander: Why Knowing God is Better Than Knowing it All is ready for you. It’s ready to sit with you while you grab a cup of coffee, pour another cup for a friend, and open your heart to the waiting world. It’s ready to be read by a book club, wrapped up in a birthday gift, stashed in a purse for a carpool or waiting room read. It’s ready to have a place in your life, and to help give you hope for your future.

If what you know in your head isn’t aligning with the gut-level truth of your heart, For All Who Wander is the book for you. As you walk through Robin’s story with her, you’ll find out for yourself that sometimes wandering is the path that leads you back to God.

We are so excited to hear how Robin’s heartfelt stories and Biblical encouragement impact your heart. For All Who Wander is now available at Amazon, DaySpring, LifeWay, and wherever books are sold. When you get your copy, be sure to snap a picture for Instagram and include #forallwhowanderbook in your caption so we can share in the fun!

Friends, this book? It’s for you, in the same story-sharing way (in)courage is for you. This book is for all those who want to recognize and operate out of their true identity in light of who Christ is. It’s for those who want to abandon the guilt and shame attached to having questions or doubts, and consider the factors that have led to this season of wandering. And it will reassure you that God is working whether or not you sense His presence.

Order your copy of For All Who Wander: Why Knowing God is Better Than Knowing it All today!

On Finding Your People and a Place to Call Home

by

It’s official! I did something. I did it with a bit of apprehension and a good deal of hope. Basically, I joined a new church. That may not seem like a big deal to you, but for me, it’s huge. A while back, I touched on experiencing some church hurt that completely caught me off guard and how that was a catalyst in possibly leaving a church I had been a part of in some capacity for twenty years.

About fifteen months ago, I met some people after attending a conference at a local church, and it has changed my life. This new community has welcomed me in with open arms. Some have even said that it feels as though I have always gone there. Despite this, I didn’t want to make any rash decisions or decisions made out of hurt, anger, or bitterness from my last church.

So, I have taken the past fifteen months to learn and grow under this new church’s leadership. I have connected with members on a heart level. I’ve broken bread, celebrated, and even walked through some hard valleys. It has filled my soul with such joy.

Last week, I had a meeting with the pastors and discussed me possibly becoming a member. The Lord literally told me everything my heart needed to hear. I was in awe of His kindness and attention to the smallest details of my life.

A few months ago, this verse came up in a sermon and I knew what my word would be for 2020: dwell.

One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek Him in His temple.
Psalm 27:4 (NIV)

With this transition to a new church family, I knew that I wanted this new year to embody going deeper into these new relationships. Over the past couple of years, I have experienced disconnects in some of my friendships. I have poured out in friendship, but it hasn’t been reciprocated. It hurt, and it’s been hard, but I was made for connection. And so are you.

At the beginning of last year, the Lord called me back into wholehearted devotion to Him. That hasn’t changed, but now He is calling me back to deep devotion to community.

Navigating relationships of any kind is not easy, but it can be simple. Here are some things God has taught me that I want to carry into this new community:

Seek God first.

This is key. This is foundational. If our relationships with the Lord are lacking, nothing else fits into place. I truly believe I have let the Lord lead me in this whole process of transitioning churches. I didn’t go looking for a new church in reaction to being hurt. It actually came out of nowhere. When God divinely crafts His plans, there is so much peace attached to it. His leading comes out of those sweet times when we have just sat in His presence and listened to His still small voice. The Father wants to guide us intimately into the center of His will, and all we need to do is listen and obey.

Seek God together.

I am an advocate for the local church, and I love the verse that commands us to not forsake the assembly of the brethren. I actually have never felt guilt attached to this verse as some may have. I have actually been encouraged and challenged by it. No matter what has been going on in my life or in relationships or in the church itself, I have never wanted those things to deter me from gathering with the body. Again, not easy, but I do believe I have been intentional in this area.

Prayer and worship corporately has always knitted my heart and spirit with others. It’s been quite beautiful and powerful. I can’t wait to see how God moves in me and through me in this new space this year.

God created us out of unity — Father, Son and Holy Spirit — for unity — one body, many parts.

We all have something to glean from each other, and we all have something to offer one another. May we keep our eyes and hearts open to the leading of His Spirit. He has a place and a people for you to call home.

If you have found your people, I would love to hear about them!
If you haven’t, I would love to pray for you!

 

[bctt tweet=”God created us out of unity — Father, Son and Holy Spirit — for unity — one body, many parts. #community #church -@karina268:” username=”incourage”]

The Good News of the Gospel

by

Blessed is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavens in Christ. For he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and blameless in love before him. He predestined us to be adopted as sons through Jesus Christ for himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he lavished on us in the Beloved One.

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace that he richly poured out on us with all wisdom and understanding. He made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he purposed in Christ 10 as a plan for the right time — to bring everything together in Christ, both things in heaven and things on earth in him.

In him we have also received an inheritance, because we were predestined according to the plan of the one who works out everything in agreement with the purpose of his will, so that we who had already put our hope in Christ might bring praise to his glory.

In him you also were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and when you believed. The Holy Spirit is the down payment of our inheritance, until the redemption of the possession, to the praise of his glory.
Ephesians 1:3-14 (CSB)

These verses summarize the gospel for us. We have been chosen from the very beginning to be God’s children, redeemed through Christ’s blood shed for us. We have been promised and given the Holy Spirit, who is God with us, and we have now been blessed with every spiritual blessing.

And this gospel truly is good news. We, who were lost, unseen, and broken, are now chosen, loved, and are being redeemed for the day when we will be with Him forever.

Today, let’s not take for granted the grace given to us and the salvation that continues to save us and for a God whose love for us never diminishes.

 

[bctt tweet=”Today, let’s not take for granted the grace given to us and the salvation that continues to save us and for a God whose love for us never diminishes. ” username=”incourage”]