Instead of More Resolutions, Try Unforced Rhythms

Instead of More Resolutions, Try Unforced Rhythms

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I’m a few days late as I flip the wall calendar from December to January. I stand at my office door and survey the scene. An exercise bike (the one I insisted my husband carry up a flight of stairs) collects dust in the corner. Last year’s empty journals, half-filled planners, and discarded daily devotionals lie in stacks on my desk.

My goals that failed to materialize line my graveyard of New Year’s Resolutions. Shoulds, woulds, and coulds are etched into the epitaphs of the ghost of New Year’s Past:

  • Here lies all you failed to accomplish.
  • Maybe if you’d tried harder.
  • New year, same bumbling you.
  • Where’s your resolve?

As we settle into a new year, maybe you also reflect on your resolutions that never lived a full and vibrant life. Maybe if you’re like me, you feel shame about it.

We set resolutions because we want to be better. (And I pray that, in all my days, I continue to grow and learn and become more of who the One who made me created me to be.) Working toward what we hope for is not a bad thing, but if we’re not careful, it’s so easy to believe the lie we’re often sold: That if we try a little harder or are a little more disciplined, we’ll achieve all our heart desires. We’ll finally be worthy.

Self-improvement is a multi-billion dollar industry because, as humans, we ache for something more. Something that will fill us with meaning, with purpose, with life. Sometimes, we think our efforts will earn us a better standing with others – and even with God. But when we place our hope in ourselves, we’re bound to be worn out and disappointed when our striving doesn’t fill the void.

As Jesus gathered the disciples, He didn’t tell them to list out their three goals and outline five actionable points to achieve them and then live a prosperous life.

Instead, He said the opposite: “Get away with me. And I’ll show you unforced rhythms of grace.”

What if, instead of using resolutions as a measuring stick for meaning, we intentionally reflect on the rhythms we integrate into the real, messy, complicated, wonderful lives we’re living?

The Message paraphrase of Matthew 11:28-30 puts it like this:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me — watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

As we settle into the new year, consider these questions before beating yourself up over resolutions that may have fizzled out:

  • Am I trusting God’s love enough to rest?
  • Am I walking and working with God – or am I working to earn favor that is freely given?
  • Am I sharing my life in love with others?
  • Am I, in light of Christ’s compassion, living with integrity, mercy, and generosity?
  • Am I, with God’s help, folding in rhythms of the fruits of the spirit into the very fabric of my being?

Instead of beating myself up for not using my planner as much as I’d hoped, I’m taking stock of what is filling my days, my months, my very life in the first place. Instead of mourning the ways I’m convinced I’ve failed, I’m considering how I might, with God’s help, intentionally integrate a life of faith into the comings and goings of my actual days.

We may look at our graveyard of goals, but God looks at the heart.

As you reflect on what was and is to come, let this new year be a reset for your soul. Sure, set some goals if you’d like. Make a plan. None of that is bad. (I still buy a new calendar and planner every year.) But whether or not you set any resolutions, consider how you, too, might dance in the unforced rhythms of grace in the coming days.

May this prayer I wrote in my book Every Season Sacred be words to borrow as you journey through this year:

Creator God, You breathed us into being out of dirt and dust. You are not done with the forming and fashioning of who we are and who we are becoming. In You, each of us is invited into infinite possibilities for who we might become. Protect us from influences that whisper lies, distorting the divine shape of our hearts and minds, bodies and souls.

God, we know You are forever speaking into the contours and crevices of our lives. Carve mirrors into our hearts so we might examine and reflect on who and what we have allowed to form our days and our lives. When we have allowed our false selves to become hardened in the fires of life, call us back so we may return to being formed by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Soften our harsh edges, and form us into Your image, through Christ alone. Amen.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or on your favorite podcast player!

Start Your Year with Prayer

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I call on you, my God, for you will answer me;
    turn your ear to me and hear my prayer.
Psalm 17:6 NIV

We are one week into the new year. One week into getting back into the groove of post-Christmas life. Perhaps one week of setting goals and making plans. Or maybe one week of wishing you could burry your head, ignore all the could’s or should’s, and just go back to bed. However you’re feeling on this seventh day of 2024, one thing we can agree is worthy of our attention is prayer.

Prayer is the invitation to an ongoing conversation with God. It’s how we get to know His heart and how we share ours with Him. Prayer helps turn our hearts from our own concerns to the goodness of God’s character. From wallowing to worshipping. From fixating on our inadequacy to focusing on Christ’s sufficiency. Prayer is the opportunity to let our petitions lead us to praise. Because no matter the circumstances we face, Jesus, indeed, is worthy of our gratitude and praise.

So let’s take time to pause in prayer together. Share your heart in the comments and take a moment to pray for the woman who comments before you.

What a beautiful gift that God promises to hear our prayers — and that as sisters in Christ, we can tenderly bear witness to those prayers as well.

 

Take Heart. We’re in This Together.

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None of us are immune to the burdens and pains of this life. Though we have a God who loves us, we all experience loss, hardship, and disappointment. And in the midst of it all, it might feel as though we’re all alone, with no one to understand us, no one to guide us, no one to let us know they’ve been there too.

Sometimes, in those seasons of life that ache beyond words, we just want to hear that it’s okay to not feel okay. We want to know we’re not alone in this chasm of loneliness we stand in. We want to be held by arms that bear the scars of similar wounds.

In our most vulnerable moments, we need more than pithy statements that attempt to assure us that all will be well. Instead, we need one another’s stories. Stories create a space for us to be — to be known, to be validated in our feelings and experiences, and to give us words to express what we might not have been able to say before.

We can find ourselves and God again in one another’s stories, opening the door to let hope come through once more.

We won’t be able to understand why hard things happen in this world or in our lives, and that is okay. We can sit in the tension of that reality together. And not only do our suffering and pain connect us together in our humanity, but they also connect us to Christ, who bore it all on the cross. He held the tension between heaven’s holiness and the world’s brokenness, and though we all long for resurrection, we have a God who stayed in the tomb — in darkness, in death, in time suspended — before He rose again on the third day.

And these are His words to us:

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33 NIV

From the introduction of  Take Heart: 100 Devotions to Seeing God When Life’s Not Okay by the (in)courage community.

We hope each story in this book is an offering of hope to know that we’re in this together.

 

 

For When You Keep Looking Back Where You No Longer Belong

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I’m not sure why I keep doing this, driving by my childhood home. What am I expecting to see or feel? What am I looking for?

I feel compulsive and conflicted as I drive by the house . . . but I tell no one that I’ve done it again. I drive slowly one way, then I turn my car around and slowly drive back from the opposite direction.

I was three years old when my family — shrouded with violence and plagued by my father’s alcoholism — moved into this house, right on through the back door. The house looks nothing like it did sixty-three years ago. The once-open carport is now enclosed. The yard is cluttered with outside lawn items. Several trees that were in the backyard are now gone — huge oaks from long ago, under which I found sanctuary from the violence that engulfed my little, scared life inside the house.

I fight the urge to stop, to knock on the door, and ask if I can look inside. I wonder how many families have lived in the house over the past sixty-three years, and I pray that the hostility left when we moved out.

I look at the windows of the rooms residing on the other side of the outside walls. The window above the kitchen sink holds memories of my mother standing, washing dishes with her hands in soapy water, seemingly symbolic of a need to wash away the chaos. Her transfixed eyes looked longingly toward the light, maybe daydreaming of a tranquil life she had never known, not even in her childhood.

I see the double windows in the dining area which, when open, released the “hard to breathe air” that seemingly stagnated above the table where silent, nervous children and parents sat. My eyes move to see the triple window in the living room — a room that holds memories too painful to name. This window reflected the live Christmas tree each year, stuck in a bucket of wet dirt and adorned with multicolored lights that reached toward the ceiling, reminding us all to look up at the star’s holy light.

Sometimes, I think if I continue to drive by this heap of devastating memorabilia, I’ll metaphorically turn into a pillar of salt, just like Lot’s wife. I feel cursed to be living within ten miles of this house. But then, before I give in completely to the sadness, I make another turn at the end of this neighborhood street and head toward another house — a church house.

I stop in the parking lot of the church and I gaze at the stained-glass windows. I remember the colorful Sunday morning light that reflected on the golden, oak pew where I sat beside my mama. I see the white double doors where my small feet — wearing shiny patent leather shoes — crossed the threshold each Sunday to a sacred space that saved my life. I recall the faces of individuals who sat around me, many of whom, unbeknownst to me, knew of my silent pain.

If I listen hard enough, I can hear the hymns being sung. But then . . . I remember the here and now, and I find myself back in real-time. Filled with unexplainable peace, I circle the parking lot and head back to my present-day home — a home where I belong.

The irony of these periodic “drive-bys” is that I presently have a wonderful life. I remain a strong follower of Jesus Christ. I am surrounded and supported by a body of believers and my current house is calm and serene. However, I live with a form of PTSD. When life becomes stressful, my childhood emotions are replicated and unexpected memories erupt. The stress of giving care to my ninety-six-year-old mother (who suffers from dementia) has triggered memories from my troubled childhood. 

Thankfully, I am slowly learning how to manage stressful triggers, and my instances of “looking back” are getting farther and farther apart.

We can only speculate as to the reasons why Lot’s wife defied the instructions to not look back. Some theological commentators agree she was looking back with a longing to return. In her willful disobedience, she gazed where she no longer belonged, and her life ended.

Like Lot’s wife, I no longer belong where I once lived. But, unlike Lot’s wife, I found belonging where the Lord brought me. Though I can’t return to my childhood home, I’ve found belonging with the church family that loved me unconditionally during my childhood pain.

If you find yourself looking back where you no longer belong, call on Jesus Christ who brings hope and healing amid all your longing.

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts. 

Truth for when You’re Wounded by Someone’s Sharp Words

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It was my freshman year of college. I was sitting in the dining hall with a group of classmates. We were telling stories and one upperclasswoman was sharing something when it sparked a memory for me. In my young and immature mind, I started to open my mouth to interrupt with what I wanted to say, but then, I thought better of it. My quick lean-in was met by an equally quick lean away. I was still learning.

The student who was speaking at that moment was universally respected and admired. She was dynamic, funny, and sought-after. A leader in every sense of the word. And when she saw my shift in engagement, she asked me what was happening.

I told her that she’d reminded me of a story but I didn’t want to interrupt.

And then, in front of upperclassmen and fellow students, she looked me in the eye and said, “No, you did want to interrupt because you just wanted to be the center of attention. You always do.”

Her words stuck in me like barbs. I felt my face go red from humiliation. Fighting back my tears, I made an excuse to leave and took my tray to the dish collection area, walking back to my dorm as quickly as I could.

I was gutted by her pronouncement to my 19-year-old self. I felt small and embarrassed.

When you live in the middle of downtown Chicago, there are few places to hide in a moment of intense vulnerability and shame, so I found refuge in the stairwell. I managed to hide for a bit until there was a click and the door opened. It was her, and she asked if we could talk one-on-one.

This is surely the moment we will make peace, I thought. Perhaps she knows I’m hurt.

But as we sat in her room, I was met with her telling me I was selfish and that my motives were self-centered. That my heart and intention were to outshine others. I walked out of the room, devastated. I didn’t turn to the Bible for truth or encouragement, I just took her words as red letters.

It shifted the way I existed around the others on my dorm floor. Did they all feel like I was being selfish when I told stories or made jokes? Did they all believe I wanted to be the center of attention? The best way forward, as far as my wounded self could tell, was to get smaller and stop showing up. So I did. For months, I stopped myself from engaging with those dear friends in that community because I was so terrified of who she had so confidently told me I was.

Years later, when I got offered a dream job at a ministry, I woke up one morning in a panic. There was no way I could take this job because I was doubting that my motives could be good. What if I think I want to help others but really I just want to be the center of attention? This opportunity was probably too good to be true. I seriously considered backing out of what would be one of the most formative seasons of my life, all because of a careless comment made by someone who probably doesn’t even remember that interaction.

For years, in moments of pivotal growth, I could hear her voice in my head. If I was going to say something in a public way, I second-guessed. If I was going to share news, I assumed I was being selfish. Those words were not just about that moment, but I was accused of being selfish all the way down to my heart and motives. It was the kind of one-two punch I couldn’t recover from.

I was nineteen. Of course I was learning to not interrupt. Of course I loved my friends. Of course my intentions were good. But in that year of adjusting to college and feeling so very insecure, the words of a senior who was established and carried the social clout were the ones that stayed.

If you’ve met me, you know that I am passionate and community-driven and can be loud. And for a long, long time, I assumed those were the very worst things about who I was.

This is what happens when we anchor our confidence in the opinions of others. Are we all selfish and sinful? Yes. Is there a place for gentle rebuke and accountability? Yes. But scripture reminds us that  “Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones” (Proverbs 16:24 ESV). The way that we pour into others with our words matters. I am so sure many of us remember words that wound long after the bleeding stops.

So today as I write these words to you, friends, know that they’re a miracle. I almost didn’t keep writing. I almost didn’t pursue ministry. I almost didn’t say yes to what God had for me, but He has reminded me over the years that we’re all in process, and at the end of the day, who He says I am carries the most weight.

If you are carrying sharp words spoken over you in a moment of true unkindness, consider this a post just for you. Imagine me sitting across from you and saying, “Those words weren’t for your good or growth.”

But you know what words are? God’s. And He’s got a whole lot of truth to build us up in his Word. So open it up and soak in the truth, sister. We’re all a mess and we all fall short — but we’re also deeply loved and redeemed and moving toward wholeness.

May we use our words to preach goodness and beauty and life until our voices go hoarse.

 

Listen to today’s devotion at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts!

A Letter From God to Help You Get Through the Year Ahead

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If you were to stand at my house front, knock your gathered palm on the wood of my door, I’d welcome you in and lead you up the stairs littered with toys. I’d take you to the closet in my boys’ room, point upwards, and show you the wooden chest laid high on that top shelf, collecting layers of dust and who knows what else.

“There it is,” I’d say. “All my journals and all my letters.”

Then I’d point out the other boxes and bins, all stuffed with more letters from my youth until now. I’d walk you down the stairs to the room where my desk sits, and I’d open up drawers — the ones with postcards and envelopes shoved inside. I’d tell you to look at the wall in front of my desk to see the clippings of cards and the notes I’ve pinned up.

  • One, from a friend who became family, reads: Dear Sissy, I miss you so dearly. Thank you so much for always sending a note…
  • And another, from a childhood friend: We’re excited to have moved to a town that we hope to call home for a long time…
  • And another, from my high school chorus teacher: Hello my wonderful friend, all is well up here…
  • And another, from a fellow author and friend: Sweet Rachel, you have inspired me! I can’t wait for your book #2 ♥…
  • Then, a note from my son, simply scribbled: To Mom…

After all this — showing you my stacks of cards and letters — I’d sit you down and tell you why I keep these words within my reach. Pinned on walls. Put up on the fridge. Stored in boxes and bins, saved from weeks and years ago and kept safe, forever in my heart.

As a child, I moved a few times. And, with that, I’d grown accustomed to missing people. I moved around the fifth grade and missed out on starting middle school with my best friends. Then I moved again at the end of middle school, leaving new friends and losing my place on the softball and tennis teams. I sought so desperately to cling to the ones I loved — writing letters was a way to hold the line of connection.

I wrote letters because I didn’t want to let go of the ones I loved. I wrote letters to say (and hopefully receive and read) all the things I needed to say and hear . . . a way to remind myself of all things beautiful and enduring and true.

And so, here I am — here you are. We are standing at the precipice of yet another new year. And, already it is a melting pot of anticipation and pain. Already, it is an achingly beautiful tapestry of hardship and hope. Already, it is ripe with opportunity and adversity.

I know this because this is how all years go. Every year is a pull and tug of beauty and brokenness, a marathon of highs and lows, a landscape of valleys and mountaintops.

Who knows what the year will bring? Children who come back home. Healing from diseases. Mending of marriages. Or, perhaps, our pain from the past will carry over? The limp that lingers. The jaded job search that continues. The ache that remains from a friendship fallen out.

For all that we carry and all that we’ve yet to come across, sometimes we need more than just one word for the year — we need a whole letter… a whole book, a whole Bible full of promises to help us preserve and get through the year ahead.

So, instead of simply inviting you into my house and showing you the letters I’ve saved, here is one of your own. This inspired letter, creatively written by me and infused by the Word of God, is for you — written as if from God’s heart to your own.

As you look out upon the start of another new year, may this letter remind you of all that is beautiful and enduring and true.

Dear Daughter,

I see you. (Psalm 33:13-15)
I see you as you were, as you are, and as you will be. (Psalm 139:1-10)
Look to Me; turn to Me. I am Your help.
I am the Maker of the heavens and the earth, and I am the Maker of all your moments.
Look to Me, for I am the only One, in all the heavens and the earth, that can hold you and help you. (Psalm 121:1-2)
I hear you, daughter. I hear you when you pray and I hear you when you are in pain. (1 John 5:14, Psalm 118:5-6)
Do not look to yourself for answers, rather look to what you know is true of Me. (Proverbs 3:5-6)
Trust in Me. (Psalm 25:1-2)
Delight yourself in Me. (Psalm 37:4)
Look to Me, and Me alone, for divine direction. (Psalm 37:5)
I am He who leads you. (Psalm 32:8)
I am He who loves you. (Psalm 36:7)
My love is never far away.

Experience healing and hope through prose and poems that give space and grace for grief with Rachel’s new book, The Matter of Little Losses.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts. 

5 Reasons to Choose a Word of the Year

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As we begin a new year, many of us are excited to make resolutions, set goals, and create positive changes in our lives. As believers, the new year also means continuing to grow and deepen our faith and live it out with intentionality – for this, choosing a word of the year can be a powerful tool.

What does it mean to choose a word of the year?  

A word of the year is a word or phrase that resonates with you and reflects what you hope to focus on and grow in over the coming year. It could be a word that has shown up often in your quiet time and daily life, a word you feel that God has placed on your heart, or a word that represents something important to you personally. But why is choosing a word of the year important as you head into 2024? And how can it help guide you in your faith and purpose?

Here are five reasons it can be helpful to have one word to focus on this year:

1. Intentionally Seeking God
When choosing a word of the year, it is important to spend time in prayer, asking God to reveal to you what His plans are for you in the coming year. This process of seeking God and listening to His voice can help cultivate a deeper intimacy with Him and a stronger sense of purpose in your life. Your word of the year can become a daily reminder of your commitment to seek God and align your life with His will. 

2. Focusing on Your Purpose
We are each created with a God-given purpose and calling. However, it can be easy to lose sight of this purpose amidst the busyness and distractions of everyday life. Choosing a word of the year can help you stay focused on your purpose. Your word of the year can guide your decisions, actions, and priorities throughout the year, helping you to live a more intentional and purposeful life. 

3. Developing Growth and Change
Choosing a word of the year can also be a powerful tool for personal growth and transformation. Your word of the year can represent an area of your life that you want to work on, such as forgiveness, courage, or gratitude. As you focus on this area and intentionally seek to grow and change, you will find that your word of the year becomes a catalyst for transformation and positive change in your life. 

4. Holding Yourself Accountable
Having a word of the year can also make it easier to hold yourself accountable for your growth and progress. By setting measurable goals associated with your word of the year, you can track your progress and celebrate your wins along the way. Additionally, sharing your word of the year with a friend or accountability partner can provide additional support and encouragement as you work towards your goals. 

5. Trusting in God’s Plan
Ultimately, choosing a word of the year is about strengthening your faith and aligning your life with God’s plan for you. As you focus on your word of the year over the next twelve months, you will learn to trust in God’s timing, provision, and direction for your life. No matter what challenges or opportunities come your way, your word of the year can serve as a reminder that God is always with you and working all things together for good. 

Choosing a word of the year is a meaningful way to start the new year with intentionality and purpose. As believers, we can use this practice to deepen our faith, grow in areas of our lives that need improvement, and stay focused on our unique purpose and calling that God has given us in 2024 and beyond! 

Get your 2024 word of the year at dayspring.com!

Let us help you discover a theme from God’s Word that will meet you exactly where you are and help you make decisions, manage emotions, and make the best of every day this year. You’re just a few questions away from your 2024 Word of the Year.

Listen to today’s devotion below or on your fave podcast app!

Before You Make New Plans, Read This

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Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.
Jeremiah 33:3 NIV

If given the choice to know what the year ahead of us will hold or let it all remain a mystery to day-by-day unfold, most of us would probably choose to know. Mystery breeds uncertainty. Uncertainty often causes us to grasp for control. But what if the mysteries and uncertainties of life were actually meant to compel us to call on God? To propel us to reach out to Him. To lean into Him. To surrender to Him and linger with Him.

The fact that God invites us to call to Him is our assurance that He listens to us. And not only does He listen to our questions, doubts, dreams, desires, and concerns, but He also answers us!

At the start of this new year, may you feel peace knowing that every uncertainty ahead is an opportunity to trust your loving God. May you resist the pressure and temptation to sprint ahead of God’s plans and fill up a blank calendar with lofty resolutions and appointments that will stretch you thin. May you remember that you are more than any goal met, any resolution kept, any to-do list checked. You are known by God. His child to whom He turns His ear.

You are loved just as you are.

May you find rest in that truth.

A prayer for 2024:

Lord, there is so much ahead of us that we can’t foresee, so much we wish we could control but can’t. We hold all our questions, desires, and longings out to You. We want to trust You, but we acknowledge that we need help with that sometimes. Help us remember who we are, through the lens and truth of who You are. Thank You that we can be anchored in faith when we are tethered to You. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen. 

Happy New Year, friends!

The Best News About What’s Coming Tomorrow

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Because of the Lord’s faithful love
we do not perish,
for his mercies never end.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness!
I say, “The Lord is my portion,
therefore I will put my hope in him.”
Lamentations 3:22-24 CSB

You made it to the end of the year. Because of God’s faithful love, you were not overcome. You did not perish — nor will you ever if your trust is in Him. Today is the last day of 2023, and tomorrow ushers in the start of a new year . . . along with God’s faithfulness to see us through it all.

No matter what you’ve faced this year, tomorrow is full of new mercies. Because of God’s grace and forgiveness, we are offered a new heart and a new spirit (Ezekiel 36:26-27). When we accept the gift of new life in Christ, God promises to give us a heart that is once again soft and a spirit that is open to His guidance.

As we close out this year, reflecting on all that has happened in the past 365 days, all the ways we’ve grown and struggled and loved and learned, let’s remember that a new day is coming. God will give us a new heart — as well as a new year.

Happy last day of 2023, friends. May your heart feel renewed, refreshed, and ready to welcome every ounce of God’s faithful love and new mercies ahead.

Happy New Year’s Eve Eve!

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Happy New Year’s Eve, eve! We hope you had a very Merry Christmas, and are still enjoying time with family and friends as you marvel in the wonder of Jesus’s birth. We thought it would be fun to share another great recipe from DaySpring’s sister site, Mary & Martha! Our friend Nancy creates the most delicious, beautiful recipes for Mary & Martha, and we are super excited to bring some of them here to (in)courage — like this one, perfect for the coming new year.

After a holiday week full of treats and heavy dishes, we’re starting to look for lighter recipes that are still delicious. This beautiful salad from our friend Nancy C. is just the ticket! Perfect for a post-holiday lunch with friends, a refreshingly light supper on a busy night, or easy to toss together for a neighbor! And of course, it’s not too late to celebrate Christmas or New Year’s with friends. Invite a few gal pals over to catch up! Serve this delicious Apple-Pear Salad with warm bread and lots of laughter.

May this holiday weekend bring the same lightness, sweetness, and refreshment to our hearts as this dish does to our table.

Friends, scroll down for the recipe and download a free printable recipe card!

APPLE-PEAR SALAD

DOWNLOAD THE FREE RECIPE CARD HERE!

Prep Time: 25 minutes
Bake Time: none
Makes about 8 servings.

INGREDIENTS:
  • 8 to 10 cups mixed salad greens
  • 1/2 cup chopped red onion
  • 2 medium size apples, chopped
  • 2 medium size pears, chopped or sliced
  • 1 cup dried cranberries
  • 1 cup shaved or shredded Parmesan cheese
  • 3/4 cup sliced almonds
  • 3 Tablespoons olive oil (or your favorite salad oil)
  • 1 1/2 Tablespoons apple cider vinegar (or your favorite vinegar)
  • Salt and pepper to taste
INSTRUCTIONS:
  1. In a large bowl, add the mixed greens, red onion, apples and pears, dried cranberries, Parmesan cheese, and sliced almonds.
  2. Drizzle the olive oil over the salad ingredients, then drizzle the vinegar. Season with some salt and pepper.
  3. Toss the salad ingredients with the oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper; toss well, until everything is coated.
  4. Garnish with additional cheese, cranberries, and almonds, if desired, and serve.

NOTES:

  • You can substitute your favorite vinaigrette for the oil and vinegar.
  • If you’re using oil and vinegar but would like a sweeter taste, drizzle 1 tbsp. of honey over the salad ingredients, along with the oil, vinegar, salt, and pepper. Toss well.

To get the beautiful and bright look above, serve in the Enamelware Salad Server Set, and set your vinegar and oil in the Vinegar + Oil with Tray. Visit the Mary & Martha site to browse the winter catalog, find more recipes, and connect with a consultant to learn more and place your order!

Happy New Year’s Eve Eve!

Let’s Make Our Opinions More Adaptable in 2024

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“Well, that’s just your opinion!”

The words made me bristle.

I’d been chatting with a relative about a broken relationship in our extended family – a delicate topic to be sure. But it had come up because the effects of that broken relationship were now impacting our personal lives too, and decisions needed to be made.

The conversation had started out light, mostly with me asking questions, like “How are you feeling about this?”

But as the conversation developed, I had that growing urge to just speak my mind. I had strong opinions about what I felt was the source of the problem in this relationship as well as how it should be remedied. I am a pastor’s wife. I’ve been doing soul-care mentoring with people for years. I’d seen this kind of situation before and felt justified in what I thought was the best way forward for everyone involved in our current familial situation. Perhaps that’s what convinced me to voice my opinion on how I actually felt about the two people involved in the broken relationship in our family.

Let me just say, my opinion wasn’t received well.

The look on my relative’s face showed I had deeply offended her. She immediately challenged my ideas and laid out a completely different course of action that, in her opinion, was the only right way forward.

So, there we were — at an impasse. Both of us with strong feelings about a relationship that was impacting us personally, and both with a strong desire for very different outcomes.

What was I to do? I’ve learned over the years that “going down with the ship,” so to speak, by hanging onto my opinions for dear life is always a recipe for burning bridges.

I can be right, or I can keep my relationship. Not always both.

I didn’t want to fully recant my ideas. After all, I pride myself on thinking things through and formulating opinions thoughtfully and with a bit of research (or, let’s be honest, with at least some Googling!). But I didn’t want to hurt my relative and put our relationship in jeopardy either.

So, I swallowed my pride and said, “I hear what you’re saying. Tell me more of what that would look like.”

The Bible reminds us to put people’s hearts above our own opinions. Proverbs 21:2 says, “A person may think their own ways are right, but the Lord weighs the heart” (NIV).

I interpret this passage in two ways. First, we must express our opinions with humility. Even if we are 100% right in our thinking, if we lord our opinion over others, what good does that do? Second, we must be willing to adapt our strong opinions. There is always the possibility that we’re missing some part of the bigger picture. Or that our opinion is just one way forward, and perhaps not the best for someone else. There’s also the possibility that our opinion is preventing us from truly hearing another person’s heart.

To emulate the wisdom of God in our thinking is to have strong, yet adaptable opinions.

I’m not referring to dogma or the theological tenets of our faith. I’m talking about the realm of relationships and solutions for fights, broken hearts, making new friends, and marital growth, among other things. There’s a lot of gray when it comes to relationships. What worked for us might not work best for someone else. Just because we have certain knowledge (theologically, as a counselor, or as someone well-traveled, for example), doesn’t mean our knowledge applies to everyone’s situation.

To exercise wisdom is to develop the ability to learn and genuinely appreciate different perspectives.

Too often, our strong opinions result in polarization and broken relationships. But we can change that.

We can make 2024 the year of strong yet adaptable opinions.

We can make the new year a season of learning and growth; a season of communicating our ideas, while also meeting other people’s opinions halfway.

We can prioritize people’s hearts and love others the way God loves them.

We still might disagree at the end of the day, but we can do so while preserving the relationship and that’s key.

Who’s with me?

(in)courage wrote a whole book about navigating challenging relationships! Find out what it looks like to delight in differences and love through disagreements in Come Sit with Me. 

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts!

Why You Won’t Ask for Help

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Last month, I found out that my friend, Jeanette, was going to be in town staying with our other friend, Susy. As much as I wanted to see Jeanette, I had decided to shut down any plans because my schedule was so crazy with work and travel, and I couldn’t take the time to either go to Susy’s side of town or cook for everyone at my house. (In my brain, these were the only two options.)

I hated that my busyness was going to keep me from spending time with one of my favorite people, but that’s what adults have to do sometimes, isn’t it?

When I hadn’t gotten back to Susy right away, I received a follow-up message from her:

“I know you’re getting ready to go out of town. What if we came to your house and brought dinner?”

My first reaction was no. It felt like the least hospitable suggestion I’d ever heard. I felt guilty for even considering it. But I knew that I wanted to see my friends, and I needed the help.

So I put my pride aside and responded, “That sounds lovely.” A few days later, Susy and Jeannette not only brought over homemade stew and Irish soda bread, but also an assortment of crafts that we worked on while chatting. We had a delightful evening. I got to hang out with my friends and enjoy an amazing Irish dinner and some seasonal crafts.

All because I said yes to an offer of help.

As I was preparing for my own holiday events earlier this season, I shared on social media that I have something called “The Help List,” prepared for people who come to my house for a big celebration. People who want to help can choose any task on the list, from loading the dishwasher to preparing the cheese board. I shared that I asked all of our adult children to plan, prep, and clean up one meal so that I wasn’t stuck in the kitchen all day, every day, and could hang out with our family. We only get to spend time together maybe six times a year so I wanted to make the most of it.

It wasn’t your typical contentious post that goes viral. Nothing earth-shattering. Just, you know, how to ask for help.

That post? Has almost two thousand comments. I normally get excited about twenty comments on one of my day-to-day posts.

To say it hit a nerve may be an understatement.

But why? Why is the idea of asking for help so, so hard, or even controversial? Some people were shocked that I wasn’t going to serve my family to give my adult kids a break, and some said that I was selfish for even asking for help.

We have been fed some very specific lies about the ideas of help from movies, social media, and in some cases, dysfunctional family members. Maybe you’ve heard some of these lies too:

1. It’s better to not need help. As a woman, we’ve been told by the media that one of the best things that can be said about us is, “I don’t know how she does it.” (In fact, there is even a movie with that title.) In other words, she does everything for her family, her friends, and her community without needing any help whatsoever.

2. What if I ask and nobody answers? What if I ask for help and no one wants to help me? What does that say about me as a mother, a wife, a daughter, and a friend?

3. Help triggers inferiority or arrogance. I have refused to ask for help on both sides of this scale. Inferiority says that I should be able to do this all on my own. If I can’t, it’s because there is something wrong with me. Arrogance says that I don’t want anyone else’s help because they just won’t do it like I would do it.

But here is the thing: we are designed to be both the helper and the helped. Galatians 6:2 says, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (NIV). Not only are we to help other people, but we are to be on the receiving end of that help.

Needing help is a part of life and being asked for it is part of healthy relationships, but sometimes it can still be challenging. So what do we do?

Consider it a deposit. When I ask for help, what I’m trying to tell the other person is that I will be there when they need it. I want to ask for help so that others know that I am a safe person to ask when they need help too.

I should have known that Susy would have exactly zero qualms about bringing dinner. We’ve done that for each other dozens of times. Making mutual deposits into our friendship for years has not only deepened our connection but also ensured that someone we know will be there when things are hard.

Offer small and accept small ways of helping. Start with low-risk helps. “I’m heading to your house now and am stopping by the store. Can I pick up anything for you?” When was the last time you threw a party and had enough ice? The “I’m already stopping at the store” part makes it easy for people to ask for help without feeling like they are inconveniencing you.

You know you’re on your way to building friendships and community when are you not only regularly offering help, but also asking for it as well.

Want to learn more about a helping community in the mountains? Click here to check out Kathi’s book, The Accidental Homesteader.

 

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For When the Storm Just Won’t Let Up

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Panic hit like a freight train. I woke up to hundreds of social media notifications on an otherwise regular Wednesday, and the one thought running through my mind was: I’ve been hacked again.

I waited for the page to load, my stomach in knots, remembering the last time this happened. Sure enough, thousands of comments filled the screen, another hundred appearing every time I clicked “see more”, and my mouth literally dropped open as I scrolled.

My eyes filled with tears as I read each and every one, slowly realizing that 99% of the strangers leaving messages wrote their own versions of “me too” or replied to someone else with a kind word or prayer.

The day before, I prayed, “God, let it cross the screen of whoever needs it today.” I took a deep breath, clicked publish, closed the browser, and stepped away. After five months of quietly sitting with the image, I attempted to put it into words, certain I didn’t have the “right” ones but confident it was time.

There must be someone who needs this visual, too, I thought.

This summer, while at the beach with my family, a storm arrived out of the clear blue. One minute the sun was shining, the waves were lapping, and the wind was a gentle breeze. The next, we scrambled to gather chairs and strained to keep the tent from flying. Rain fell in sheets and I inched forward, walking straight into a wall of wind.

It was hilarious — one of those ‘this is a memory in the making’ moments — until I stood on the balcony of the rented condo and saw the speck of a bird riding out the crashing waves. As if we switched places, I watched the bird from above and I told the One who walks on water, “That’s me right there and I’m exhausted.”

This year has been a tsunami, to put it mildly. The number of times I’ve said, “The hits just keep on coming. Every time I think I see a break in the waves, the storm picks up,” would be laughable… if it weren’t so heartbreaking.

More than ever before, I’m uninterested in pretty words that are empty promises. If you had a similar year, I imagine the same is true for you. But if you’ll let me, I’m coming up for air to share the anchor that has held.

It’s all I’ve got; it’s been more than enough.

One day, every storm will be permanently silenced. One day, chaos will be calmed for good. But for today: We don’t have to hold it together. There is One who is holding us, and He’s familiar with waves. Sometimes Jesus says, “Peace, be still” to the waters that rise, and sometimes, instead, He says those words to our overwhelmed hearts. But He never shows up with a tidy “just choose joy!” bow, never dismisses our sadness or grows weary of how long we’ve struggled to stay afloat. No, Hope just gets in the boat.

And, apparently, sometimes Hope uses a comment section to remind those who are exhausted that they’re far from alone.

The post reached nearly one million people. At first, I was heartbroken. Just one person in the middle of an intense storm is one too many. But the more I scrolled, the wider I smiled, struck by the visual of strangers reaching out to each other with encouragement like a life preserver. There were no cliches, just compassion and kindness lifting up those who raised a hand and said, “The waves won’t stop and I’m really tired.”

I wonder if you feel that way today, if you’re ready for the calendar page to turn so 2023 moves to the rearview. I wonder if the storm came out of nowhere and you’re barely inching forward, if you sang “All is calm, all is bright” on Christmas Eve while gulping for air in between the waves. I wonder if this year took everything you had and then asked for more.

There’s nothing magical about the new year, no guarantee that you and I will catch our breath right as the clock strikes midnight, but there’s a gift we get to keep unwrapping long after Christmas morning. The ever-present promise of Emmanuel, God With Us, will hold true in the storm. Jesus will stay the same no matter the calendar page.

If you’ve been pummeled by waves, you’re far from alone — there are many of us right there with you. But more importantly, we have an anchor that will hold fast, an assurance that Hope not only gets in the boat, but Hope will hold.

Hebrews 6:19 promises: “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure” (NIV).

The waves might keep on coming and the storm may keep on raging, but the sun will keep on rising. We may not know when and we may not see how, but we can trust Who.

God sees the other side, and He will see us through.

If your 2023 was a tsunami and you’d like more encouragement as you ride out the storm, Kaitlyn’s book Even If Not: Living, Loving, and Learning in the in Between will help you choose hope for tomorrow when today feels like a question mark.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or on your fave podcast app!

The Truth About Being in That Awkward In-Between Space

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Have you seen that meme that says something like, “Time doesn’t actually exist between Christmas and New Years”? And it’s true for me. What do we do with this time when the sheer craziness of the holidays has sort of lost its shine but it’s not the new year just yet? Time purgatory! My husband wants the decorations down immediately and I want to deny the reality of doing any not-so-fun task and leave them up till Valentine’s Day. While I don’t want to un-deck the halls, I also don’t want to just sit around. After such GO GO GO through the holidays, it can feel weird to just be. It’s like the juxtaposition of a train running at 300 mph to sitting at the train station — to me, it feels disorienting.

What I’ve been thinking a lot about lately is Mary’s perspective in the Christmas story. The Messiah had come! It was a great culmination of all the hopes and dreams for all people through this baby, and yet afterward… it was, well, silent. The shepherds were far out in the fields and we aren’t sure how long it took them to get to Jesus. And the wise men came much later, probably two years after Jesus’s birth. We tell the nativity story as if it were one amazing event after the next and Mary could hardly catch her breath. But that’s not how the timeline went.

I think it’s safe to say that there was quite an awkward bit of space after Jesus was born before they had to start moving again to escape Herod. Mary knew this was the fulfillment of the prophets after such a long time of silence and waiting (400 years!). She was holding the Messiah in the flesh. And He was a helpless newborn, who required the same monotonous day in and out care that all babies do: feed the baby, change the baby, let the baby sleep, watch the baby sleep and make sure they’re breathing, and lastly second guess if you saw the baby’s chest rise and watch for it again. Over and over. I imagine Jesus cries in the night, and Mary, with tired eyes feels her way over to the manger to comfort him with her probably very sore breasts. If you’re a mother, you know exactly what I’m talking about. The blur and exhaustion of those days are incomparable. 

What we do know about the Gospel of Luke is that he tells us the inner thoughts of Mary throughout her birth story. In Luke 2:19 we read some of this inner thought dialogue in two different versions:

“But Mary was treasuring up all these things in her heart and meditating on them.” (CSB)

“But Mary kept all these sayings, pondering them in her heart.” (ASV)

How would he know her inner thoughts and how would he know what she treasured in her heart? I think because he actually spoke with her and dictated her story. It is mentioned twice, this kind of treasuring in her heart. Another word for treasure in Greek is “ponder”, which means to “preserve” and even “to wrestle with.”

Mary was a deep thinker. She had a lot of time in between birthing and fleeing to wrestle with questions she had in her heart. Thinking of Mary wrestling with her great responsibility as the Messiah’s mother puts some skin and humanity on this Gospel. Mary’s wrestling with God also reminds us that pondering and asking God questions about the events of our lives is not a sin. It’s just human. These in-between moments are letting us catch our breath, they give us a little bit of space to process the difficult and joyful events that have just happened to us this past year and to even ponder what’s ahead. It’s valuable and documented right here in the Christmas story. Mary is processing. 

The Christmas story reminds us God is called Immanuel: God with us. We are quick to relate this with-ness to the crescendo of Jesus’s birth: Look! He came to be with us!  Or maybe we’re quick to point out where God was with people in the Bible in some dark, exhausting times. Those are both true. But I love that God is just as much with us in the hard times or good times as He is in the in-between times. The awkward space. He is with us in the, What am I supposed to do next? In the, Why did this happen to me? And the, I don’t know what my purpose is lately. He’s with us on the long road of monotonous service to others. The, When will I get to move forward?

So, for those who are in that awkward gray space, you don’t need to rush out of this: God is with you. For the deep thinkers wrestling through bewildering circumstances that don’t quite make sense: God is with you. For those who wonder about the future and are eager to see what God does through all this monotony: God is with you. 

And for those who want to take down the Christmas tree the day after Christmas, you need to pray about that. (Yes, I’m teasing. Sort of!) 

God is with us all. Hallelujah.

Listen to today’s devotion below or on your favorite podcast app!

Merry Christmas! Let’s Celebrate the Greatest Gift!

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The birth of Jesus took place like this. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. Before they enjoyed their wedding night, Joseph discovered she was pregnant. (It was by the Holy Spirit, but he didn’t know that.) Joseph, chagrined but noble, determined to take care of things quietly so Mary would not be disgraced.

 While he was trying to figure a way out, he had a dream. God’s angel spoke in the dream: “Joseph, son of David, don’t hesitate to get married. Mary’s pregnancy is Spirit-conceived. God’s Holy Spirit has made her pregnant. She will bring a son to birth, and when she does, you, Joseph, will name him Jesus—‘God saves’—because he will save his people from their sins.” This would bring the prophet’s embryonic revelation to full term:

Watch for this—a virgin will get pregnant and bear a son;
They will name him Immanuel (Hebrew for “God is with us”).

Then Joseph woke up. He did exactly what God’s angel commanded in the dream: He married Mary. But he did not consummate the marriage until she had the baby. He named the baby Jesus.
Matthew 1:18-15 The Message

We’ve journeyed together through Christ’s promises for weeks, and now we’re here!

Merry, merry Christmas.

May your day be bright as you celebrate the Greatest Gift — the never-ending, amazing love of Jesus. He is our Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, and Prince of Peace, and He loves you dearly.

Like the angels and shepherds, we cry, “Glory to God in the highest!”

We’re thanking God for the gift of Emmanuel, the gift of a Savior, and God’s radical, creative love in sending Him as a baby named Jesus.

Merry Christmas, friends, from all of us here at (in)courage!

The Promise of a Savior

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Below is a story you are probably familiar with — the story of Jesus’s birth. But sometimes we’re prone to lose the wonder over what is familiar. So today we invite you to pause. Ask God to give you fresh eyes to see and a heart soft and ready to receive a new revelation about the story that changes everything. 

The Birth of Jesus

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole empire should be registered. 2 This first registration took place while[b] Quirinius was governing Syria. 3 So everyone went to be registered, each to his own town.

4 Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family line of David, 5 to be registered along with Mary, who was engaged to him and was pregnant. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to give birth. 7 Then she gave birth to her firstborn son, and she wrapped him tightly in cloth and laid him in a manger,[d] because there was no guest room available for them.

The Shepherds and the Angels

8 In the same region, shepherds were staying out in the fields and keeping watch at night over their flock. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Don’t be afraid, for look, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people: 11 Today in the city of David a Savior was born for you, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be the sign for you: You will find a baby wrapped tightly in cloth and lying in a manger.”

13 Suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:

14 Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and peace on earth to people he favors!

15 When the angels had left them and returned to heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go straight to Bethlehem and see what has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.”

16 They hurried off and found both Mary and Joseph, and the baby who was lying in the manger. 17 After seeing them, they reported the message they were told about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19 But Mary was treasuring up all these things in her heart and meditating on them. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had seen and heard, which were just as they had been told.
Luke 2:1-20 CSB

Today marks the fourth Sunday in the season of Advent, the four weeks leading up to Christmas Day. We’ve been journeying with these ancient promises for the full season of Advent, and it’s led us here to Christmas Eve. May you experience God’s Word in fresh ways tonight, as we anticipate Christmas morning.

 

As you consider today’s Scripture reading, we invite you to take a moment to observe, reflect, and respond:

OBSERVE Who is God? What are you learning about God’s character from His promises?

REFLECT Where is God? How is He moving during this busy season?

RESPOND Pray, confess, and give thanks. How will today’s promise from God make your Christmas richer?