Do You Dare to Believe?

Do You Dare to Believe?

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Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.
1 Thessalonians 4:13 (NIV)

My dad’s ashes hit the surface of the water and swirled into an eddy in a tiny inlet before being swept downriver. The rising sun enflamed the red rock face opposite us and a lone duck, God’s endearing joke of a creature, paddled idly ten feet away.

A minute ago, I had been swinging between delirious laughter and uncontrolled weeping, the two so interwoven that I didn’t know where one ended and the other began. “It’s a plastic sandwich baggie?!” I’d exclaimed as my brother withdrew my dad’s remains from the far more solemn and appropriate velvet drawstring pouch.

As we deliberated over where exactly to scatter the ashes and whether to divide them between different sites, each of us trying to pawn the responsibility of decision-making off on the other, I broke into unceremonious giggling again as I imagined our dad chuckling as we debated the logistics of parceling him out across the American West he so loved.

We finally tilted the plastic baggie with as much decorum as possible and our father’s ashes alit on the water under the blank, watchful eye of the duck. In a wild and holy profusion of tears and snot and laughter, I watched the white ash float downstream until the water swallowed it. We picked our way back up the river bank between tufts of yucca and deceivingly gentle-looking fine-quilled cacti.

I looked back at the top of the crest and beheld the time-striated red and white rock, a wonder of God’s patience. And I wondered, What do I really believe? Do I truly believe I will see my dad again? In the face of sorrow, when all seen reality seems to sing nothing but a death-dirge, do I dare profess that God so loved the world that He sent His only son to die for us, and through Him we have eternal life?

There, looking down at the water that had carried what was left of my dad’s earthly body away, it seemed defiantly, outrageously, perhaps even delusionally bold to proclaim such a thing as my only sustaining truth.

When the rubber hits the road, when white ash hits roiling water, when catastrophic loss and nonsensical tragedy force our faith to become either a real, gritty, enduring thing or nothing at all, we find out what we believe. Grief obliterates our comfort, and faith can no longer survive as an abstracted concept hovering about outside our lived reality. It never could. Grief yanks faith down to earth and wrestles with it like Jacob at Peniel. But when we stay with Jesus, clinging to Him even in anger, bitterness, and desolation, He transforms our faith. Gone is its brittleness, its tentativeness, its facile cliches, like God will never give you more than you can handle.

You learn that indeed, you will be given more than you can handle, but that the “more” will bring you to the place of abject dependency on Him that couldn’t have been achieved any other way. And therein is the blessing in the desert, given after what seems a dawnless night of fevered wrestling: a faith that is supple but unshakable, earthbound but gazing always toward eternity, anchored in nothing less than Jesus Christ and His great love for us.

A few nights before my dad died, we were gathered around him as he lay on a hospital bed, tubes snaking outward tethering him to humming and beeping machines. I was playing hymns for him off my phone, including his favorite, “Just As I Am.”

“Ash?” he whispered hoarsely between hard-won inhalations, his lungs laboring from the damage wrought by COPD. “You know what song I’m really into lately?”

“Which one, dad?” I asked, leaning in close, eager to fulfill his requests.

“You know, that one . . . ” he said, hesitating. “That one that talks about ‘the Bible tells me so’.”

Thinking he meant a song with that title, I immediately began searching. I found one, an upbeat bluegrass tune from an album whose cover featured a country band in period costumes in one of those sepia-toned photos.

He raised his hand weakly after a few seconds, as though waving away the dissonantly jaunty song. “No, no, that’s not the one,” he said. “You know the one – the one that says ‘Jesus loves me’.”

The tears came hard and fast, and I barely had to glance around the room before we all began to sing, including my brother, an agnostic: Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to him belong, they are weak but he is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me, yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. The Bible tells me so.

He was so near to death, so seasoned by loss and suffering. Yet what my dad most wanted to hear perhaps the most foundational, basic, childlike worship song ever penned.

But there, and there alone, is hope: yes, Jesus loves me. There, and there alone, is the greatest testament of faith we can offer: Yes, Jesus loves me.

 

[bctt tweet=”The blessing in the desert is a faith that is supple but unshakable, anchored in nothing less than Jesus Christ and His great love for us. -Ashley Lande:” username=”incourage”]

You Have Not Been Forgotten or Overlooked

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I’ll admit, the month of February brings with it a sense of dread. I don’t mind the flowers, chocolates, or the emphasis on love. No, as a single woman, it’s the looks of pity, as questions and doubts that have played in my head are suddenly spoken aloud by loved ones and strangers alike.

If we had the time, I could tell you one hundred different stories of hope realized and hope deferred, of singleness and waiting, of watching dreams die and finding God satisfies.

But I won’t lie to you: on the whole, February is still difficult.

I knew that the timing for my next post here in this space would fall around mid-February, and as I scanned the list for my name and date, my stomach flip-flopped, nerves and prayers, hopes and fears all mixing together.

When I saw my name next to today’s date, a smile slowly spread across my face. There’s more to the story you shared last year, I could almost hear Him say. How about February 18th?

Exactly two years ago today, a grocery store clerk made fun of me for having to buy my own flowers. I can still feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, immediately flushing with embarrassment, confusion and surprise.

For the next few days, every time I passed the carefully arranged flowers displayed on the kitchen table, I remembered his cutting remark.

Fear whispered lies, shame began to shout, and doubt weighed heavily like a thick blanket I couldn’t seem to shake off.

Truth always gets the final word, though, and He had something to say too.

Last February, as the day rolled around once again, I found myself reliving that moment and reflecting on two lessons learned from an unfortunate grocery store encounter. I shared the story and the lessons here, and then I dared you to go ahead and buy the flowers.

Dozens of (in)courage readers, women in this very community, took the dare. They drove to the grocery store, purchased a bouquet, and tagged me in pictures of violets, roses, azaleas, and lilies.

Roll the credits and cue the happy ending, right?

Except there’s more to the story, another encounter with a grocery store clerk that happened when I took my own dare, and I’d like to invite you into this page of the story too.

As soon as my morning meetings came to a close, I jogged to the car and set out for the grocery store with a smile on my face. With only a few minutes to select a bouquet and make it back before afternoon meetings began, I stood in front of the display debating the pricier orange tulips or the practical pink carnations.

Two minutes later, I stood in line with sunshine in my hand.

The clerk asked, “What are you celebrating?” and without a second thought, one word slipped out:

Life.

Life. Life. Life. Instead of a rude remark, life began to play on a loop in my mind. I held the word gently in my hands, tasting it again on my lips as I spoke it aloud while trimming the stems and filling the vase.

On paper, my life looks much the same today as it did then. But another year has passed and He has remained faithful. The calendar pages have turned, but He has not turned away.

Two things can be true at the same time: This isn’t what I pictured. There are dreams that have died. But also? I’m 100% confident that the Dream Giver is the Author of my story, and He is good.⁣

This was always Plan A. And while there are things I wish I had that I don’t, I actually have so much more than I deserve.⁣

This right here, this life full of incredibly ordinary days and mundane moments, is surprisingly spectacular in one million small ways.

There are broken hearts and beautiful things, hellos and goodbyes, sunrises and sunsets and sunshowers. There is grief and there is joy, sometimes at the very same time, but He does not waste our hurt or our hope.
⁣
We can be sad and grateful. We can smile even with tears in our eyes. We can dare to say “This isn’t what I would have written,” even while trusting that He doesn’t make mistakes and He sees the entire storyline.⁣

This has always been the truth, and it will not change: You have not been forgotten or overlooked. You aren’t falling behind. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be today, and this chapter is not a mistake.

Don’t pause your life for Some Day. Go ahead and buy the flowers, literal or metaphorical. There is good right here, right now, and today is worth celebrating.

Here’s to the beautiful and ordinary of February 18th. May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him today.

This has quickly become my favorite February tradition, and I invite you to take the dare with me! I’ll post my February 18th bouquet on Instagram later today. Want to join me? #BuyTheFlowers, snap a picture, and remember this: You are seen and dearly loved, today and every day.

 

[bctt tweet=”You have not been forgotten or overlooked. You aren’t falling behind. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be today, and this chapter is not a mistake. – @kaitlyn_bouch” username=”incourage”]

God Knows Our Purpose

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I am a list maker. I am a planner. I am happy with a pen in my hand and paper — any kind of paper — to make a list on. Things to get done, things for the grocery list, appointments coming up, bills to pay, people to email — there is just so much to remember.

Without my handy lists, I know I would be dropping the ball and forgetting all sorts of things. Also, who doesn’t just love being able to cross something off a list and have that wonderful feeling of accomplishment?

So my inner planner and list maker loved seeing how my new rheumatologist ran things in her office. Before patients leave, we check out and schedule our next appointment. At check out, we are given what they like to call a “honey-do list.” It’s a list of specific things we discussed in our appointment but might forget by the time we get home — instructions we need to follow, tests we might need, medications and how to take them, anything we need to do before our next appointment. It’s a planner’s happy place.

While I was in the waiting room for my last appointment, a woman and her husband stepped up to the counter to do her check out. They were explaining to them how the honey-do list works. The husband jumped on this idea quickly and voiced his concerns that he might be getting another list. “Joking, of course, ” he quipped. It got a laugh out of everyone in the room. A sweet husband worried about those wonderful honey-do lists.

We all may have our lists and plans. Our list making and planning may simply be about organization or an attempt at some organization, but sometimes it may start being more about control. We hope that God will get on board with our wants, our needs, our plans. We hope that He will work with our timeline.

But we all know the truth is that God is in control.

In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.
Proverbs 16:9 (NIV)

He knows exactly where His plans are going to take us. Even though we may think we have ours carefully planned out and thought through, His plans may look very different from ours. God knows our purpose. God knows our needs. What we need may be different from what we want. And that can be a hard pill to swallow sometimes.

We can plan all we want, but God will establish our steps. No matter how hard we plan, no matter if we think we have every detail figured out, we will still end up where God wants us.

So where does that leave us? What can we do?

We can now let go of that worry and trust Him, knowing we are not alone in this journey. We can now let go of that pressure, and we can focus on being present where He has us, knowing it is exactly where we need to be. We can now let go and fully embrace His plans for us, even when it means being patient for those plans.

But I trust in you, Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hands.
Psalm 31:14-15a (NIV)

God holds it all together. When we feel things are uncertain for us, God’s purpose remains certain. His plans will not be derailed. His plans will not be affected by anything.

His list for our days is perfect. He may be adding to our list; He may be taking things off our list; He may be rearranging our list. But no matter what, we can trust His plan is perfect. It’s His will, not mine.

Thank God that He has our list already prepared. Now we just pray for His help to complete it!

 

[bctt tweet=”When we feel things are uncertain for us, God’s purpose remains certain. -Jennifer Ueckert:” username=”incourage”]

We Have the Spirit of God in Us

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On the contrary, we speak God’s hidden wisdom in a mystery, a wisdom God predestined before the ages for our glory. None of the rulers of this age knew this wisdom, because if they had known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. But as it is written,
What no eye has seen, no ear has heard,
and no human heart has conceived—
God has prepared these things for those who love him.

Now God has revealed these things to us by the Spirit, since the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. For who knows a person’s thoughts except his spirit within him? In the same way, no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. Now we have not received the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who comes from God, so that we may understand what has been freely given to us by God.
1 Corinthians 2:9-12 (CSB)

When Jesus ascended to heaven, He promised the Holy Spirit would be God with us, God who lives in us. We have been gifted the Spirit, and thus God’s presence is closer than our very breath. In our finite minds, it may be easier — even “wiser” — to trust what we can see or imagine, but wisdom that comes from the Spirit goes beyond what our physical minds can fathom. If we want to go the way God leads, then shouldn’t we trust that His Spirit can guide us there?

We don’t have to look for signs — physical or figurative — for us to walk in His way because we have the Spirit of God in us. And if we’re lacking in wisdom, we’re invited in James 1:5 to ask God for it, and He will give it to us generously.

Lord, we ask for wisdom. We want to know You more. Amen.

 

[bctt tweet=”We don’t have to look for signs — physical or figurative — for us to walk in His way because we have the Spirit of God in us. ” username=”incourage”]

Stuck? Or Slow and Steady Growth?

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With all of life’s ups and downs, have you ever felt stuck? I’m not talking about a little stuck, I’m talking about feeling like you’re trapped in quicksand stuck. Stuck is pretty much how I spent my whole 2019. Life wasn’t horrible, but it sure wasn’t great. I’m not even sure how to accurately describe the feeling of stagnation in my mind, body and spirit. I honestly couldn’t pinpoint an area in my life where I felt progress. I wasn’t where I thought I’d be in any area of life. I was in a job that I wasn’t crazy about. I had some chronic pain in my body that’s progressively healing, but my active lifestyle has been on hold. My finances left me frustrated. My thoughts circled the same mountain for months. I do a great job at coaching other people on how to get unstuck and yet when it came to my own life, I had the hardest time of figuring anything out. Isn’t that usually the case? It’s far easier to help someone else than it is to help ourselves. I tend to want a perfect solution that leads to a perfect outcome that’s wrapped in a perfect bow. Toward the end of the year, I just got fed up with being stuck. The Lord gave me some ways out, as He kindly does. And then He graciously encouraged me that progress will always win out over perfection. God is not interested in perfection. His heart is for us to constantly grow and become like Him. His Holy Spirit gently reminded me of a couple of truths I easily forget.

I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit. John 15:1-2 (NASB)

The Lord is in the fruit-bearing business. Everything we do and say produces some sort of fruit. Often, when we don’t see fruit, we panic and worry. It is in those times that He prunes us. He could be breaking some toxic thoughts or establishing new habits. He could be teaching us to rely solely on Him as our source. He could be stripping away pride and self-reliance. He prunes us because He loves us. He prunes us because He is a good Father. He always has our best in mind. Sometimes His best comes in the form of stuck. All we need to do is stay connected to the vine and the vinedresser will do what He does best — nourish and strengthen branches that produce much fruit.

We all, with unveiled faces, are looking as in a mirror at the glory of the Lord and are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory; this is from the Lord who is the Spirit. 2 Corinthians 3:18 (CSB)

I’ve always loved the part of this verse that says from glory to glory. It reminds me that there is one glory and then another and then another still. But it doesn’t end there. Until Jesus returns, there will always be new levels of glory that can be experienced. This glory is never about us. It is about us gazing at Christ Jesus and becoming more like Him with each passing day. This transformation isn’t designed to happen overnight. It is designed to be a relationship and a journey with Him. It is designed to happen in the intimacy of the secret place with the Lord. One thing I learned coming out of a season of feeling stuck is that whether we see movement, it’s happening. God is always on the move. He is always at work for His glory and for our good. May we learn to trust Him in seasons of feeling stuck and standing still. May we be grateful for slow and steady progress toward who He is calling us to be and what He is calling us to do.

Are you in a season of being stuck? If so, please share. I’d love to encourage you!

  [bctt tweet=”God is always on the move. He is always at work for His glory and for our good. -@karina268:” username=”incourage”]

What Does Your Mirror Tell You?

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Everyday I look into a mirror — once, twice, if not multiple times a day. But after last week, I will never look at my reflection the same way again.

For five days, I was part of a ministry team that deep cleaned apartments for struggling families in transition. Yolanda, a single mom of two boys, was one of the residents, and while we were there, I never saw her smile. Her countenance couldn’t mask the burdens she bore.

As we scrubbed and scraped, poured and polished, we prayed specific coverings over each of her rooms. We prayed over the family room and bedroom. For the kitchen, I prayed for the meals that would be prepared, the souls that would be fed, the conversations that would occur around the table.

But I never thought to pray over the hallway mirror.

I came the following day to fix a broken window, and I noticed she’d taken a black industrial sized trash bag we’d been using, ripped it apart, and hung it over the mirror so there was no reflection.

I couldn’t shake the visual. My mind strayed to a number of possibilities for why it was there. A religious conviction? Maybe her faith doesn’t allow mirrors. That must be it. Please may that be it.

In that moment, the Holy Spirit whispered in my heart, “Don’t let this opportunity slip by. Talk to her.” I wanted to leave, because let’s be honest, there’s no easy way to inquire about a hanging garbage bag, but instead I asked her, “Yolanda, when I cleaned yesterday, I noticed the mirror is the first thing that greets you. Did it startle you too? Is that why you covered it?”

Her head dropped with an alarming sigh. She wouldn’t look up. Finally, after an awkward pause, she replied, “No, that’s not it. I can’t do mirrors. I can’t look in them right now.”

There, Jen. She answered your question. She can’t do mirrors. Don’t push her. Wish her a good day and leave. But as I tried to convince myself that’s what she wanted, I couldn’t leave.

“Yolanda, I’m asking all the residents if there are specific requests for which I can pray. Do you have something I can pray for?”

While the other residents listed tangible needs — childcare, car, a place to live, a job — she choked out two words, “Peace and forgiveness.”

The weight of her request lay heavily on me. How many times had I uttered the same words?

“Yolanda, I don’t know your story, but I know the One who does. He loves you more than you will ever know. He is the One who heals the brokenhearted and sets each of us free from our sin and shame. He rights our wrongs because nothing any of us have done is too big for Him. He can handle it. I know this to be true. He is the only source of true and lasting peace. He will grant it because He is the mighty God of second chances, of miracles, of restoration and He desires freedom for you.”

I glanced at the garbage bag, and everything in me wanted to tear it down, to peel back any bondage it represented. I could barely continue through my tears because as I spoke each truth, they weren’t only for Yolanda; they were for me too.

Some mirrors marred by sin and shame magnify the lie that our past dictates our future. Other mirrors compare us to others, each distortion carefully curated by the deceiver. We struggle to know what’s truth because the lies seem so believable.

So this week I’m starting my day with something new. I’m looking into my mirror and confidently declaring truth: “I am an image bearer of Christ. I know the truth, and it has set me free.”

Won’t you join me each morning this week? When we remove the garbage bag from our own mirror, here’s what that sparkling clean image declares about who we are in Christ:

I am God’s child. (John 1:12)
I have been redeemed and forgiven. (Colossians 1:14)
I am a saint. (Ephesians 1:1)
I cannot be separated from the love of God. (Romans 8:35-39)
I am fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalms 139:14)
I am God’s workmanship. (Ephesians 2:10)

This list is only a start. You are loved, accepted, secure, significant, and free in Christ.

What does your mirror tell you right now?

 

[bctt tweet=”You are loved, accepted, secure, significant, and free in Christ. -Jen Schmidt (@beautyandbedlam):” username=”incourage”]

You’ll Want a Pair of These Shoes for the Rugged Road

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Can I admit something to you? It’s not something I am proud of. It’s not the sort of thing I want on my ministry résumé.

But here it is anyway:

I harbor so many unspoken fears about what my future holds. I fear future pain. I fear the inevitable struggles. I fear losing people I love. I fear abandonment. I fear becoming a has-been. I fear falling behind. At times, I even fear dying.

And then, of course, I end up feeling like a complete hypocrite because my whole ministry, as a writer and speaker, is built around the idea of trusting God. This virtue of trusting God also plays into my chief aim as a parent. More than anything, I want to teach our daughters to trust God above all else, and then I want to model that behavior in my own life.

Yet, while I really do want to trust God with my whole life, I occasionally return to my annoying, old habit of asking God to follow the plans I have carefully drawn up for my life. (Yes, I’m bossy like that. Tell me I’m not the only one.)

At the very least, wouldn’t it be nice if the Lord would hand us a map, so we know how to get where we are going and how to avoid all the potholes and rugged roads of life’s journey?

This morning, I had to refresh my memory about the truth that God’s in control. I call it “re-remembering what I re-forgot.” I re-remembered a sentence I wrote in my book It’s All Under Control. “We ask for a map, but instead Jesus gives us a compass and says, ‘Follow me.’”

Oh yeah, that.

God doesn’t give us a map. He doesn’t show us where the rugged roads are, even though He knows exactly their locations. He also doesn’t chastise us for being afraid. Instead, He strengthens us! And that strength involves shoes. I’m not kidding. Stick with me.

The other day, I ran onto a brief but life-changing promise in the book of Deuteronomy. It was so brief that I almost missed it, and at first, I didn’t even understand it.

The words were these: “The bolts of your gates will be iron and bronze, and your strength will equal your days” (Deuteronomy 33:25, NIV).

All right, Lord. I’m intrigued. Tell me more. (We’re almost to the part about the shoes, I promise.)

As I tried to make sense of this verse, I read commentaries and eventually read the King James Version of Deuteronomy 33:25. And that’s when I had a “Wow, God” moment. The King James Version renders the verse this way: “Thy shoes shall be iron and brass; and as thy days, so shall thy strength be” (emphasis added).

Ladies, check out those shoes, would you? We don’t know what we’ll face in the days and years ahead, but God has already given us the proper footwear — made of the toughest materials. (I’ve recently put in a request for a touch of leopard print, with a slight heel. Yes, I even boss God around when it comes to His provisions.)

I don’t want us to miss this: God provides iron shoes for those of us on the rugged road. And, what’s more, He promises that “your strength will equal your days.”

Translation: For every single day of your life, no matter how rugged the road, how intense the fear, how deep the uncertainty, how difficult the circumstance, you will have the strength required for the journey.

Lace up, friend. We’ve got a road to walk, and we don’t walk it alone.

 

[bctt tweet=”No matter how rugged the road, how intense the fear, how deep the uncertainty, how difficult the circumstance, you will have the strength required for the journey. -@dukeslee:” username=”incourage”]

Do We Just Have to Put Up with Stress? Maybe Not

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I’m sitting with friends in a coffee shop. One describes a recent situation in her life that left her feeling drained and discouraged. It relates to her work, and if she chooses, she doesn’t have to deal with this particular circumstance again. She asks, “But isn’t suffering just part of the Christian life? Don’t I just have to put up with this?”

My friend is lovely and kind, smart and devoted to helping others. Her question comes from the best of intentions, and I love her for it. I’ve heard similar questions from people in my past work as a counselor and life coach. I’ve asked this kind of question myself. But this morning I have an ah-ha moment along with my almond milk latte.

I think of a phrase about Jesus from Hebrews, “for the joy set before him he endured the cross” (Hebrews 12:2). Stanford psychologist Kelly McGonigal discovered people are better able to deal with stress (let’s use that word rather than “suffering” because it’s more common and less loaded) when they’re pursuing a goal. We can endure the discomfort and pain of now when we think of future benefits — the joy set before us.

When we find ourselves experiencing stress, we can pause and ask ourselves these two questions:

  • What is the joy set before me? When I run, it’s uncomfortable, but I know it will make me stronger. If someone chooses to overcome an addiction, it’s challenging, but there’s freedom at the finish line. If we take on a project at work because we believe in the good it can do, we’re driven to make the sacrifices needed to make it a reality. If we envision the people our children will one day become, the dirty diapers and sleepless nights can be meaningful, not just mundane. Being clear about the joy set before us is empowering.
  • If I can’t think of any joy set before me and this stress is optional, do I need to eliminate it from my life? This is the somewhat scandalous question that’s actually more relevant to the conversation I had with my friend at the coffee shop, and to many of us.

Author and researcher Marcus Buckingham did a study with thousands of women to discover what made them thrive. The results weren’t what we might expect. What mattered wasn’t a woman’s income, marital status, whether or not she had children, or any other external factor. The women who thrived spent more time each day in moments that made them feel stronger, that led them toward more joy in the long-term.

Buckingham says in Find Your Strongest Life, “You must face up to the fact that some moments have negative energy for you. They are emotionally draining. Trying to put a positive charge on these weak moments is, at best, a short-term survival strategy: it may help you get through the day, but, over time, it will hollow out your life.”

Yes, we will all experience stress and face challenges. But as women we often do things out of guilt, obligation, an attempt to meet expectations, a desire to please people, fear, or a false belief we have to be perfect. We put ourselves at higher risk for burnout, depression, and anxiety.

It’s okay to pause and look at what’s draining or discouraging us. It’s necessary to let go of what continually diminishes our souls. It’s wisdom, not weakness, to be intentional with our experiences, emotion, and energy. It’s responsible to release what God never intended us to carry so we can move forward in love and freedom. Sometimes the most spiritual response to stress is persevering, and sometimes it’s walking away.

Let’s dare to start asking each other a new question, “What’s the joy set before you? What’s the joy set before me?” Then let’s take the next brave step God has for us without guilt, shame, or apology.

Journey to the Cross

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Immediately the Spirit drove him into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, being tempted by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and the angels were serving him.
Mark 1:12-13 (CSB)

I’m sitting at my dining room table, country music playing just a smidge too loudly behind me as my daughters have a dance party on what feels like the seventy-third snow day this month. I reach for my Bible, running my hand down the whisper-thin pages, and close my eyes.

Before I can even say hello to God, much less reflect on His holiness, one of my daughters is crying and the other is shouting about how it’s not her fault — she didn’t do anything! This time, I close my eyes, but in frustration, not reverence.

I settle this latest argument and suggest a litany of quiet activities my kids might enjoy for a while. Finally, peace. My hand hovers over my Bible, but – much as I’m embarrassed to admit it – I hesitate. My phone is sitting right there, just waiting for me, begging for my attention, promising to entertain me and numb all the irritations that have cropped up this day.

Even if I manage to ignore the pull of my phone, my mind and heart are still so prone to wander.

What time is my appointment this afternoon?
Did I return that message? I should do that real quick, right now.
Why is the cat crying? Guess I better give her fresh water.
That reminds me: I need to refill my water bottle.
Maybe I should try that devotional I bought a few months ago.
I’m just going to pay that bill online . . . and answer that one email . . . and check on that project . . .

When I began studying ways to prepare my heart for Easter, something many know as the season of Lent, I read everything I could find about the time Jesus spent in the wilderness. While accounts can be found in three of the gospels, the brief description in Mark is what resonated most deeply with me.

Thinking of Jesus, alone in the wilderness, being tempted by Satan, surrounded by wild animals was a breath of fresh air to my distracted, weary soul. I feel alone! I’m tempted all the time! And yes, at times it feels like I’m surrounded by wild animals!

When we struggle to quiet our lives and our hearts enough to focus on God, Jesus knows exactly how we feel. And what I know from passages in Matthew and Luke is that despite the desperate situation in which He found Himself, He resisted temptation. The angels served Him, He leaned on His knowledge of Scripture and faith in God, and He resisted.

So what does that mean for me, as I think about one more failed attempt at a simple quiet time? What does that mean for you, as you feel the hunger and isolation of wilderness or battle attacks from temptation of all kinds, as you long for communion with the Lord but feel unable to get there, to stay there, to remember why you were going there in the first place?

It means this: Our Lord and Savior isn’t just the One who can quench our thirst and ease our pain. He is worthy of our praise and adoration, but He also is intimately familiar with our challenges and our struggles. He knows the strength it requires to seek Him and abide with Him, and He knows that, without Him, we will perish in the wilderness.

It means that not only is Jesus our goal when we set aside time for Him, He is our solution for fighting through all the distractions and temptations that work so hard to keep us away. It means that no matter how barren and empty our personal wilderness may feel, we are not actually alone in our search for God. Just as the angels were with Him, Jesus is with us.

Let’s remember this truth as we look ahead to the Lenten season. Let’s prepare our hearts, joining with one another on this journey to the cross, and just in time for this, I’d love to introduce the newest (in)courage book to help us — Journey to the Cross: Forty Days to Prepare Your Heart for Easter. I wrote this book with women of all stages in mind so that we can better experience the power and wonder of Easter with more intentionality and depth.

Will you join us in this? We can’t wait to journey to Easter with you.


Whether you’re a lifelong believer or a new one, any woman looking to find more meaning in the weeks leading to Easter will find it in Journey to the Cross: Forty Days to Prepare Your Heart for Easter. Written by (in)courage contributor, Mary Carver, this book focuses not on your phase of life or circumstances but on your heart, making it a fulfilling read for women of all ages. It also makes a great gift, which God could use in the lives of your friends, daughters, or ministry partners to help them calibrate their minds and hearts for Easter. We can’t wait for you to have one of these in your hands – it’s now available wherever books are sold! 

Friends, this book is ready to accompany you throughout the season of Lent — the forty days leading up to Easter. Let’s take this journey together. 

Order your copy of Journey to the Cross today!

 

[bctt tweet=”No matter how barren and empty our personal wilderness may feel, we are not actually alone in our search for God. // Celebrating the new book, Journey to the Cross, from @marycarver and @incourage! ” via=”no”]

Is There Someone to Love Me?

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As the oldest in my family, I’ve always grown up taking care of myself. My mom was a single parent, and my little sister was five years younger than me. I ended up being a second mom to her because that’s what big sisters do, especially as latch-key kids. But because I’d always been the optimistic and cheerful type, it felt good knowing I was helpful and wasn’t a bother or burden to anyone.

Never did I ever dare complain; it would’ve been a luxury to do so. A good day was getting up with a smile, finishing homework, helping out with dinner, and trying not to fight with my sister when we were home alone.

But one thing I didn’t know was missing only became apparent after I grew up and found myself single and thirty.

One night, I was praying, though I don’t really know what I was praying for. I was thanking God for loving me, but the next minute, I felt so very, very lonely. It was a loneliness that didn’t seem to have rhyme or reason because I had friends and loved doing ministry in community.

I know You love me, Jesus, I began, making sure I started on a good note. I’ve tried my best to love others the way You love me, I continued, putting my best foot forward.

But the tears broke through. The frog stuck in my throat gave way to the waterfall of tears lodged deep inside, tight behind my chest, where the courageous, I’m-doing-fine, be-strong self was protecting the part of me that longed for tenderness.

God, is there someone to love me? Someone real that I can touch, who can hold my hand? I whispered, through choking tears. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want someone to hold me, to kiss me. I need someone to love me, Lord Jesus.

There it was, the truth: I needed someone to love me.

I’d never said it so bluntly. To say something like that out loud seemed sacrilegious. I felt the shame of even admitting such a thing. All I need is Jesus, I’d told myself my whole life. This was the truth I’d built my life and faith upon, giving me strength through many seasons of journeying alone.

But now a new intimate prayer I just voiced startled me. What would God would do with my loneliness? In the intimacy of honesty, what happened next changed my soul so deeply.

It was something like what the prophet Elijah might’ve felt as he ran away from Jezebel. Elijah didn’t hear God in the earthquake or the fire. Elijah heard God speak in a gentle whisper. Something about hearing God’s loving words gave Elijah strength to stop running and return to His calling.

God loves us in our moments of longing and need. He whispers, I love you.

I looked up at the stars through the window that night, and as I did, a verse came to me:

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of stars; He calls them each by name.
. . . His understanding has no limit.
Psalm 147:3-5 (NIV)

I heard Jesus whisper, I lit these stars in the sky thousands of years ago, so that you would see them light up this very night for you. I see you. I love you.

Dear friends, God’s understanding has no limit. None.

Nothing we experience on our journey through life can keep God’s love from holding onto us. Nothing can separate His gentle hand from holding onto ours. Instead, Jesus lovingly takes our hands, drawing us even closer to His embrace, so He can feel the touch of the tears that fall on our cheeks.

There is no need, no weakness, no longing that Jesus doesn’t want to touch and love back to life.

Jesus understands you unconditionally, irrevocably. You are safe in His arms.

Needing tenderness and affection isn’t shameful or weakness. It reflects the beautiful part of you God made, just like the amber sunset God paints in the sky and the softness God put in the petal of a rose. Your longing for love isn’t a liability; it’s your humanity upon which God’s love for you ignites.

Like a beautiful robe clothing my shame, God’s words from Scripture became my heart’s shelter. God didn’t send me someone right away, but when I unexpectedly fell in love with my husband years later, I was reminded that just like Ruth never expected she would find Boaz while gathering leftovers in the fields for Naomi, I was not forgotten. God hears the dream you dare to whisper in private.

During this month, with so much focus on love, remember God’s mission is loving you. Let Him hear the ache in your voice and the whispers of your dreams. To love is to be vulnerable. Take time to talk to Him openly. Listen to His whispers of love just for you today.

What is something you want to ask God that comes deep from your soul?
Don’t be afraid to open your heart to God. Pray and ask him.

Want to feel closer to God in a more personal way? Join my newsletter this year, as I share the life lessons I’ve learned as God’s beloved! I’ll also be teaching “How to Study the Bible to Hear God Personally.” Just sign up here for my weekly Beloved Wellness newsletter, and you’re all set!

 

[bctt tweet=”God loves us in our moments of longing and need. He whispers, I love you. -@thebonniegray:” username=”incourage”]

Love Over All: Love Loves

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I give you a new command: Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you are also to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.
John 13:34-35 (CSB)

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

February’s theme is Love Loves.

You might be thinking, Isn’t that an obvious definition? But it’s not nearly as obvious as you might think. Throughout this short month, we’re hoping the theme Love Loves serves as a reminder (or maybe a revelation) that love is not a state of mind or a feeling. Love is more than that; it is an action. To love means to do something or show something, because having the intention to love isn’t enough. It requires us to embody it and live it out.

As we reflect on what that might mean for us, let’s remember the way Jesus lived, loved, and died for us. He had eyes to see those who were overlooked. He laid hands on those who were untouchable. He made time and elevated those whom society considered less-than.

This month, more than teddy bears, candy, Valentines cards, and jewelry, may we remember that as Jesus has loved us, we are commanded to love others. Let’s live out this commandment with joy, so everyone can see that we are His.

 

[bctt tweet=”To love means to do something or show something, because having the intention to love isn’t enough. It requires us to live it out. #loveoverall #inloveoverall ” username=”incourage”]

Finding Refuge under His Wings

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One of my favorite things to do when I’m running is to listen and watch for birds. I have often witnessed birds take a few steps across the trail, then run and begin to flap their wings, and eventually take flight. It’s a beautiful process to watch them uniquely walk, run, and then soar to new heights.

After my husband’s death from cancer, a group of my girlfriends came over to my house and totally redecorated our bedroom. They painted the furniture, added new light fixtures, rearranged the room and found new art to spruce up the walls. They helped me to transform a place that had been like a hospital room for several months into a place of peace and refuge.

One of my friends, Bergen, sewed a beautiful blue and white throw pillow for my bed with these words stitched on it: “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge,” (Psalm 91:4). A pair of embroidered birds is perched on a branch next to the verse. This special pillow has moved with me to two new houses now. The pillow bears a message I hold close to my heart, reminding me of God’s comfort and faithfulness on my grief journey.

The psalmist uses several images in Psalm 91 to express the ultimate sense of security we can find in relationship with God. Verse 4 paints an image of a baby bird covered by his mother’s feathers and goes on to say, “His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”

Bird feathers are known to be a fantastic form of insulation against the cold. This is why many people love down pillows and comforters. Some feathers are coated with oil, which also creates a waterproofing effect to protect birds from rain and snow.

Throughout the Bible are many examples of imagery related to birds, feathers, and wings. In Ruth 2:12, Boaz encourages the young Moabite widow Ruth with these words: “May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge.” In Psalm 17:8, David writes, “Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings.” Later, in Psalm 57:1, David says, “I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.”

These verses emphasize God’s character as protector, comforter, shelter, and strength. When we are hidden in His shadow or under His wings, we are protected like a bird from the elements and from the Enemy who hunts us down. We are not left vulnerable and out in the open but protected in a safe place. The Bible does not promise us there will be no trials or heartache in this life, but it does assure us that Immanuel will be with us.

Running has been a kind of therapy throughout my life, especially through my grief journey after my husband Ericlee’s death. When I am on the road or a trail, God is faithful to meet me there. He runs alongside me. He covers my broken heart with His feathers and provides a safe shelter to share my feelings, my emotions, and my fears. He has been my refuge like He was for David, Ruth, and countless others in the Bible.

The other day I saw a photograph of a mother bird with wings extended like arms around her two bird babies on either side. At a quick glance, the babies looked like they were an extension of the mama’s body because they were enveloped by her feathers. The mama bird protectively wrapped her wings around her chicks in the same way God wraps His arms around us.

Friend, rest today under the covering of His wings. Let Him shelter your heart and provide the strength you need to heal and eventually soar through whatever difficult circumstances you are facing today.

How has God been a refuge and shelter to you?
Can you think of any examples of times where you felt His comfort?

 

Dorina has written a book called Walk, Run, Soar, that will release in September 2020. Subscribe to her Glorygram newsletter for weekly encouragement and all the behind-the-scenes details about the book!

 

[bctt tweet=”When we are hidden in His shadow or under His wings, we are protected like a bird from the elements and from the Enemy who hunts us down. -@DorinaGilmore:” username=”incourage”]

When We Give Each Other the Benefit of the Doubt

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Recently, three friends and I joined thousands of buyers and sellers at the Atlanta International Gift and Home Furnishings Market, one of the world’s largest wholesale shows. We received guest passes, and although our name badges identified us as exhibitors, really we were gawkers, mostly-window shoppers, and grown women acting as giddy as kids in a candy shop.

We could hardly comprehend our good fortune: a day roaming show rooms, tasting samples, and hunting bargains on the cash and carry floor, plus the anticipation of a dinner event that evening. For most, the market is big business. For us, it was play: taking selfies with a man creating a balloon dress for a showroom display, obtaining an up-close-and-personal look at coming trends, getting a glimpse of what it feels like to work an outside-the-home job. The years we’ve spent caring for and teaching our children made this extravagant dose of me-time, of us-time, even sweeter.

We shared intimate details of our lives in a crowded food court over overpriced chicken salad sandwiches and bottled water. We roamed together when our interests were the same and apart when we wanted to explore different things. We were altogether comfortable.

Late in the afternoon, we found ourselves seated in barstools while our hair was styled. (It’s hard to resist when someone wielding a fancy tool offers to do your hair, especially when you have somewhere to go later that day.) When they added extensions that perfectly matched our current shades, our heads nearly exploded. We were awed by how good it felt: mirrored reflections that more closely matched what we felt on the inside.

We oohed and aahed over each other, hugged the man who made the magic happen, and walked away transformed. I knew how hard it would be to wear the extensions later, outside this circle of friends, faced with what the world might say (or whisper).

In some relationships, I’ve worn a mask, not sure if my friends would like the real me. But in true friendships, we view each other through a lens of love. Love offers acceptance. When we act in love, we handle each other’s hearts with care.

When love covers all, friendships can grow roots, both wide and deep.

As the market closed, we walked to the crowded shuttle stop to catch a ride back to the car. We were pointed toward the buses at the end of the street, which would take us to the correct lot. We asked a driver if his bus went to our destination. He looked too tired to utter another word, and so he didn’t. He simply pointed toward the bus. We were among the first seated in the front. It felt good to sit down in the big, cushioned seats after a long day on our feet. Finally, the shuttle left and we wound through downtown in the dark, stopping at one hotel after another, until the last passengers — except for us — exited the bus.

We asked the driver if his bus dropped passengers at our lot. It didn’t. “When we asked, you pointed us to the bus,” we said. “I pointed to the sign,” he replied. The sign which apparently indicated the bus didn’t stop at our lot.

Oh boy.

If at that moment thought bubbles had appeared over our heads, like in a cartoon, they would have shown how exasperated he was that we had entered the wrong bus and how exasperated we were that he wouldn’t speak to us and answer when we’d asked him on the street. Now we were goodness-knows-where, running late for our dinner, and had no idea how to reach our car.

And then something astonishing happened: silently, in unison, we all laid down our frustrations and let them go. As the tension left his face, our bus driver declared that he would not only take us to our lot, but that he was thankful not to head straight back into the shuttle line, as if we’d done him a favor.

We talked the entire way. He told us how how people try to pull ahead of a bus when they see it coming because they don’t want to get stuck behind it, without realizing how difficult it is to stop quickly. We told him about our hair extensions while he craned his neck to get a good look in his big bus mirror. We asked about his regular routes, and he told us that he drives groups of school children to the historic gold museum just north of our county.

I looked at the friend sitting beside me, and we smiled because we knew everything was okay. Our driver showed such kindness when we were truly at his mercy. When we look for the good in people, and assume they are doing the best they can, we will find it. We can give each other the benefit of the doubt.

If we place love over all — over frustration, over misunderstanding, over differences, over inconvenience, over everything — we can give and receive with good intentions and free ourselves to see the good intentions in others too.

Do you remember a time when someone reacted to you in love
and assumed the best, or vice versa?

 

[bctt tweet=”When we look for the good in people, and assume others are doing the best they can, we will find it. -@DawnMHSH:” username=”incourage”]

This Is Love

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Driving through carpool line, Andrew held his bag of Valentine’s treats in his lap. I felt awful knowing that what he had to give to his classmates wasn’t nearly as cute and fun as what he would receive.

But as we inched closer to the front of the school, Andrew asked when they’d be passing out candy in class. He didn’t care that his treats weren’t decorated with cartoon characters and hearts or any indications of Valentine’s Day at all. But I did!

Andrew had reminded me the night before that he needed treats to share with his classmates the next day, and I had none. What kind of mom forgets Valentine’s treats for her third-grade son?

After I got the boys to bed, I ran to Target where the Valentine’s aisle looked like a bomb had exploded. Mismatched candy and gifts were everywhere but no appropriate elementary school cards or treats were to be found.

With no other option in site, I grabbed a few packs of mini Kit-Kat bars and decided my poor child could write “From Andrew” with a Sharpie on the back of each treat. I would apologize profusely and promise to never forget again.

The next morning as we drove to school, I wondered if I could make up my for my mom-fail with a big Valentine’s Day surprise when Andrew got home from school. Before it was his turn to get out of the car, I tried to think of a question that might help me figure out what to buy him.

“Andrew, what makes you feel loved?” I asked.

He thought for a minute and said, “THIS.”

“This?” I asked.

“Yeah. This. You being with me. You driving me to school and talking to me about my day. You telling me you’ll be there when I get home. That makes me feel loved. Thanks, Mom. I love you, bye!”

And he hopped out of the car.

This is love? You mean, I don’t have to work myself into a tizzy shopping for a toy that will convince my child I won’t forget him, even when I forget important things for him?

This is love? Even though I was grouchy the day before, so much so that Andrew asked if I was mad about something, more than once?

It’s been a over decade since that day, but I’ll never forget the words that spilled out of my little boy’s heart so effortlessly — words that changed the way I pressured myself into believing I had to be the perfect mom, words that helped me see God’s love for me.

As I drove home that morning, I wondered what I would say if God asked me what makes me feel loved.

Andrew’s words rang true for me too. This is love:

  • A promise that is kept.
  • A place that is certain.
  • Someone who is there for me again and again.

“Lord, this is love: You asking and caring. You being there. You keeping Your promises like You said you would. This is love. ”

And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them . . . There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect [complete] in love. We love because he first loved us.
1 John 4:16-19 (NIV)

We are loved. We don’t have to wait for God to show it. He already has. He promised He’d always be there for us, and He is — present and listening, certain and caring.

No matter what we are going through today, we can live and love from the overflow of being loved. We can know and rely on God’s promises and presence and be made complete in Him.

This is love.

 

[bctt tweet=”No matter what we are going through today, we can live and love from the overflow of being loved. -@reneeswope:” username=”incourage”]

You Are Worth Taking Care Of

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She was standing in front of the bouquets of flowers, with a shopping basket in one hand, purse slung across her shoulder, and her hair tired from a long day at the office. It was rush hour, when women from all walks of life intersected at Trader Joe’s to pick up food for dinner. “Hard to decide what to pick, huh?” I turned to smile, standing next to her. “Yeah,” she answered with a chuckle, probably to be polite. She wore a cool pair of spectacles and a cute wrinkle in her nose when she smiled. “What are you deciding between?” I asked. My new friend told me she’s not sure. She said she’ll often stand there, unable to choose. Then, she’ll go home with her groceries, without any flowers. “That used to happen to me all the time, ” I said. “I wouldn’t be able decide between the flowers I really wanted and the ones that cost less . . . ” “YES! Exactly!” my bespectacled friend interjected. She turned to me now with recognition. We were of the same tribe. Women who were unable to bring flowers home to enjoy. “I’d talk myself out of it,” I confided. “I’d say, It’s not worth it. They’ll only last a few days. I later realized what I was actually saying was, I am not worth it. What I find joy in for a few days isn’t worth it.” “So true,” my friend nodded with wide-eyed agreement. I asked her if there were flowers she’d loved as a little girl, if there were flowers she liked more as she grew up. This stranger-become-kindred-spirit started sharing stories about why sunflowers made her happy. They reminded her of summer and riding her bike with a white basket adorned with a plastic sunflower. But lately, she was drawn to hydrangeas because they were soothing. “Your stories are special,” I said. “There’s something about flowers. About how God made them. How God made us. I read that scientific studies show simply looking at flowers improves emotional health.” “Really?!” My friend was intrigued. “A Harvard study even showed that women who had the morning-blahs, who usually didn’t buy flowers, experienced a boost in energy and their moods lifted, lasting throughout the day, by seeing flowers in the kitchen first thing in the morning.” “How do you know all this?” she asked. I told her I had lost my spark a few years ago. I had been good at taking care of others and getting things done. But I hadn’t been good at nurturing my own heart or taking care of my well-being. So I became overwhelmed with stress, even though I was good at working hard, pleasing others, surviving, and pushing through. But in my honest moments, I longed to find my spark again: to experience God’s peace and joy in a fresh, intimate way. Women are heroes when it comes to loving and caring for others. But why is it so hard to give ourselves permission to rest and refresh, when we’re stressed and need it most? My friend began to share. I listened. “You are worth it,” I told her, as I looked in her eyes, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You are worth taking care of.” Deep inside us, God created an inner spirit that needs nurturing. We were made to be loved, cared for, and given attention. We all need permission to take better care of ourselves. We all need a friend to help us remember we are like beautiful flowers blossoming in the fields. As we picked out our flowers, I invited her to connect with me online. I told her I’m an author leading a community of women like us: kindred spirits on the journey to nurture our soul and find our spark again. As we said goodbye, I whispered, Thank You, God.

Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28 (NIV)

God doesn’t want us to do more for Him. He longs to take care of us and whisper words of love and peace. Instead of layering on guilt when you feel stressed, let God love you by getting some tender love and care. Rest in your loving Savior’s arms. Be kind to yourself and rest. You are worth taking care of.
Soul Care Tip: Buy flowers for yourself. Behavioral research at Rutgers University found that simply looking at flowers improves emotional health, so get some for yourself. May the flowers remind you how valuable you are to Jesus. He is your peace.

A Prayer for Today:

Dear Jesus, Give me courage to choose beauty that comes from nurturing the true me. Like waves returning the sand, have Your way in me. Help me step away.
 I choose to be beloved, not busy, today. Amen.

On every page in You’re Worth Loving: 40 Days of Rest and Soul Care Guide, Bonnie guides you to take better care of yourself. For extra resources to refresh your soul, Bonnie created a new soul care package that includes the beautiful 40-day soul care guide ebook called “You’re Worth Loving,” 6 soul care teaching videos, 6 prayer podcasts, Scripture coloring pages, and access to a self-paced online book club! Click here to get the Whispers of Rest soul care resources package for yourself and for someone to encourage! We would love to encourage you to nurture your heart with God, so we’re choosing FIVE winners to receive Bonnie’s soul care package! Comment below with your favorite way to take better care of yourself for your chance to win!   [bctt tweet=”Rest in your loving Savior’s arms. Be kind to yourself and rest. You are worth taking care of.  -@thebonniegray:” username=”incourage”]

You Can’t Have Courage Without Connection

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Penny was the runt, the smallest kid on the playground in a new place to call home. We had landed in this unfamiliar Michigan town just three days prior, both grieving over what we lost and longing for what we knew. But this day at the playground promised to bring reprieve for our hurting hearts.

We got there early and planted ourselves close to the swirly green slide. My girl loves a swirly slide, especially if it’s green. Up she went and down she came, over and over again until I heard the familiar “Mama, help” from my curly-headed toddler whose legs were too tired to climb up the fortress once more. So up I went and down I came, over and over again until she regained her strength and independence.

That’s about when all the other kids descended upon her solitary playtime. Penny was halfway up the wooden stairs when two excited peers barreled past her on their way to the top. My girl stood frozen, clinging to a post in wide-eyed terror. She silently crouched down in an attempt to make herself invisible to the flurry of energy buzzing by.

As soon as the coast was clear, she called out with tears streaming down her face. Still crouched in her corner spot, I swooped her up and carried her to a nearby bench. We snuggled for a bit, then I knelt down and peered into her glassy eyes, “Penny, I know that was scary, but you can be brave because Mama will be right here.” Then her little hand squeezed mine as she responded, “Okay, Mama,” just before running off to conquer the swirly green slide once again.

That’s when it hit me: courage is derived from connection.

Loneliness doesn’t lend itself to bravery, but love has always been a catalyst for courage. It’s why a Roman soldier risked his reputation to ask Jesus to heal a servant (Luke 7:1-10). It’s why a group of men tore a hole in the roof of someone else’s property and lowered down their paralyzed friend on a mat (Luke 5:18-26). It’s why Peter walked on water (Matthew 14:22-29). It’s why Jesus gave up his life (Matthew 27:32-56).

Belonging begets bravery.

For the longest time, I didn’t think I belonged anywhere or to anyone. Isn’t that the enemy’s favorite tactic? We are more easily discouraged and defeated when we’re made to feel alone. The power of community is that it infuses courage to show up for the life God has given us, so the enemy knows deterrence begins with isolation.

There’s a woman in the Bible who experienced this dichotomy firsthand. She was a Samaritan, despised by Jews, but more than that, she was ostracized by her own people. Her lack of connection colored the way she walked through the world. John 4:6 tells us she traveled to the community well to get water at noon, which would have been unusual since it’s also the hottest time of day. This was strategic for her, though, since the morning rush meant hushed voices and disapproving glances. She did not belong, and she knew it.

You can imagine her trepidation when a Jewish man named Jesus began to strike up a conversation with her. She knew her reputation around town, and she knew the racial tension that existed between Jews and Samaritans. Surely this would not end well.

Like He always did, Jesus broke down the racial and gender barriers to connection. He painted a picture of belonging, the very thing she needed to unlock a life of freedom. Belonging to the Messiah changed everything for this Samaritan woman. Instead of avoiding community, she ran to it. Instead of shutting others out, she invited them in. Instead of sitting on the side lines, she showed up for her life. Belonging made her brave.

It did the same for me too.

Community isn’t tidy, and I have rarely walked away unscathed, but the courage it gives has shed light on the devil’s lies. Now, as I raise my own daughter, I want her to watch me choose connection over isolation. I want her to see me step toward those who are different than me, to watch me elevate the ostracized, to hear me offer belonging that makes people brave. And because courage is contagious, she’ll show up for people too.

If you can’t have courage without connection, then connection will be my legacy.

 

[bctt tweet=”Courage is derived from connection. #community #belonging #courage -Maggie Johnson:” username=”incourage”]