Stop and Ask God for Help

Stop and Ask God for Help

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What would you do if you were told you could no longer pray to God? And if you did? You would be killed — by ravenous lions. It’s an extreme situation to imagine, but that’s exactly what happened to Daniel. Local officials were threatened by Daniel’s abilities, favor with the king, and growing power, so they advised King Darius to put a law in place prohibiting prayer to anyone besides him. The leaders did this knowing that Daniel was loyal to Yahweh, the one true God of Israel.

While most of us live in places where we enjoy immense religious freedoms, we can all relate to circumstances coming our way that we can’t predict, control, or change. That’s where Daniel found himself. And he had a choice: he could concede to the new law of the land to ensure his own safety, he could run away from the place God had called him to serve, or He could trust God’s goodness and power over man’s.

What an encouragement to read what Daniel chose:

“But when Daniel learned that the law had been signed, he went home and knelt down as usual in his upstairs room, with its windows open toward Jerusalem. He prayed three times a day, just as he had always done, giving thanks to his God. Then the officials went together to Daniel’s house and found him praying and asking for God’s help.”
Daniel 6:10-11

Daniel was a man of prayer. A person who sought God at all times — regularly when life felt manageable and faithfully when life seemed impossible.

It’s definitely worth your time to read all of Daniel chapter 6 and see what happened after the officials caught Daniel defying the new law and how God came through for Him in a miraculous way! But for today, right now, let this story be a reminder to pray. Whatever feels like it might overwhelm you, crush you, be the end of you . . . start there.

Thank God for who He is and ask Him for the help only He can give. 

We’d be honored to come alongside you in the comments.

Undeserved Kindness

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“When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners. Now, most people would not be willing to die for an upright person, though someone might perhaps be willing to die for a person who is especially good. But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.”
Romans 5:6-8

Several years ago, while in a frazzled hurry, I hit a parked car. “Mommy, did you crash?! Did you break our car?” my little boys shouted from the backseat. I wasn’t worried about dinging our well-loved (read: beat up) minivan. But when I got out and saw the sizable dent in the shiny red bumper of the new SUV I foolishly hit, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach.

With hot tears stinging my eyes, I rifled through my purse for a pen and a paper. All I could find was my Walmart shopping list and a green crayon. So over the words bread and cereal, I scribbled a heartfelt apology along with my name and phone number so the car owner could call me.

Surely the bumper would have to be replaced, probably to the tune of a thousand dollars. I felt so stupid. So sorry. So ashamed. For days, a lump rose in my throat every time my phone beeped or rang. But the red SUV owner never called.

A couple of weeks passed. One day I answered the phone without thinking. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Mary. I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to call but I just wanted to thank you for the note you left on my car,” the unfamiliar voice said. It took a minute to register.

“Oh my goodness, Mary. Thank you for calling. I’m so very sorry I hit your car. Let’s talk about repairing the damage,” I said.

“Oh, not at all dear. I just wanted to tell you I appreciated your kind note,” she replied.

“Oh, Mary, are you sure? I feel awful about it.”

“Don’t you worry at all. I could hardly see a thing,” she assured me. “I’m just thankful for your wonderful little note. I hope you and your family have a blessed day.”

Now tears streamed down my face for a different reason.

Jesus has been my Savior for 35 years. I grew up in the church and I’ve read my Bible regularly for two decades. But the thing that helped me truly understand the depth of God’s loving-kindness and grace wasn’t a sermon or theological discussion. It was a lady named Mary calling to say I didn’t have to fix her banged-up bumper.

Romans 5:8 (NIV) tell us, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” This verse sums up the power and beauty of undeserved kindness in the greatest display ever made.

Undeserved. That’s the undercurrent of God’s great story of redeeming His people. He did what He did not have to do for the sake of love.

Kindness is not something we earn or deserve. Kindness is the overflow of love. Compassion and mercy in action. That’s who Jesus is and how He lived. That’s the life He’s calling us to live too.

TODAY: Instead of demanding that the one who wronged you make it right, offer the mercy of undeserved kindness.

-Written by Becky Keife, adapted from her (in)courage book, The Simple Difference.

 

When the world’s problems loom large and your ordinary life stretches you thin, is it still possible to be a difference-maker? Absolutely! One small, intentional, extravagant act of kindness at a time. The Simple Difference: How Every Small Kindness Makes a Big Impact by Becky Keife will help you to stop getting buried in busyness and distraction and discover countless opportunities for impact right where you are.
Rather than trying to do more, learn how to see more: more of the people in front of you, more of God’s lavish love for you, and more of His power within you. Grab a copy now. We pray it blesses you.

 

You Don’t Have To Be Useful

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When my kids were tiny, they loved Thomas the Train and all his friends. I loved watching them click the magnets together to make long, colorful lines of trains, and all the train noises they made as they moved them along the wooden tracks. I could still tell you all of their names. Hiro and Percy were my personal favorites. Those toy trains are still treasured — we keep a bin full of them to hopefully pass on to our kids’ littles someday.

In the television series and books, there’s a label that Sir Topham Hatt, the train conductor, consistently gives to these beloved trains as a measure of their value. He calls Thomas, and those he approves of, “really useful” engines.

I remember reading that description in one of the books and thinking about how good it feels to be useful, while simultaneously feeling like something didn’t sit well about striving for that affirmation. The trains beam when they hear Sir Topham Hatt say they are really useful.

I can picture myself beaming over a similar affirmation. I’m sure I’ve chased after affirmations like that before. No matter how old we are, most of us want to feel the weight of our true value. We want to be assured that we matter. It can be so easy to lose our way and forget that our value and worth isn’t something that can slip away, nor something that we have to prove.

Eventually, I remember having to stop in the middle of reading one of those familiar stories aloud, and tell my son that being useful isn’t our purpose; our measure of usefulness doesn’t increase or decrease our value as image bearers who are loved by God. I wanted to make sure he knew that God is not like Sir Topham Hatt, and honestly, I need the reminder too. I find this message of praising usefulness consistently wrapped around everything in our culture like a security blanket.

It sneaks up on us in our friendships when we find ourselves seeking to be the one who’s most needed. It follows us into motherhood like a phantom of the perfect mom who would never have kids who behave that way or struggle this way. It shows up in our communities and our ministry efforts when we sign up or raise our hand while secretly hoping others will notice how often we give of ourselves in the name of love, instead of from an overflow of being loved.

We all have Sir Topham Hatts in our lives (sometimes it’s us). The characters may change over time, and so might the settings. What’s elevated as most useful and good can change too, and I think that makes it even harder to see the lie woven alongside of half-truths. I easily forget that my worth is unchangeable and my value is inherent. My usefulness or lack of doesn’t impact my value as an image bearer.

Everything about Jesus tells us that our worth isn’t dependent on what we do or don’t do, how much we help or fail to, and what we achieve or not. Even in Jesus’ own life, God the Father says He is loved and pleased with Jesus before He begins preaching, telling stories, leading, and healing the sick. “And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my dearly loved Son, who brings me great joy” (Matthew 3:17).

Being delighted in and loved is the spiritual womb that Jesus’ ministry is birthed from.  It’s the intimate place He goes back to again and again throughout His ministry and it’s the place He offers us to begin from and return to as well.

The trains we keep in our bin are full of memories. Watching my kids build and play, make funny train noises and voices, and enjoy themselves was delightful because their joy and mere presence have immeasurable worth. There’s nothing useful about it.

Sister, your joy and mere presence have immeasurable worth too.

You are perfectly loved.

You have inherent value.

You have nothing to prove.

You do not have to be useful; only loved.

 

Listen to today’s article at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts.

 

Don’t Force It

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His manlike body snapped out of the car like a stapler sprung open. He slammed the door and walked away without looking back. I sat in the car with my heart on fire. Another fight. Another moment that started lovely and quickly turned terrible. Teenagers are full of emotions, they say. Teenagers are going through a lot and are doing the best they can, they all assure me. But, teenagers can also be mean; well, at least to their mothers. I thought car rides were supposed to be where we connected the most. This was the third fight in less than twenty-four hours.

We fight a lot. It’s not easy to admit, but my son and I see the world so differently. He is strong. I am not. He is outspoken. I am not. He is opinionated. I am opinionated. Since he came screaming out of me fifteen years ago, he has been a fighter. After all this time, I am weary.

That’s what I text my husband after driving home. “I am weary.” In my weariness, I get defensive. I get angry. I want to demand my voice be heard. I want to make him see my point of view and why it is right. I try to force my way forward.

I have a tendency to force things. Sometimes I am aggressive and sometimes I am passive. But I can be stubborn. I want what I want. A lot of times it looks like getting in the “ring.” Punch after punch, I go after what I want. I don’t like to give up. I’ve spent a lot of my life “forcing” things. I’ve done this with jobs I wanted. I push and push and push because I’m afraid of not getting what I want. I’ve done this with things, opportunities, and people.

When I am afraid, I force my way forward.

I’m reminded of so many figures in the Bible who forced things too. Sarah was afraid of not conceiving and forced her husband to sleep with her servant, Hagar. Moses used force, Judah used force, and Peter used force — all when they were faced with a fearful situation. But, when I react to my fear by forcing my way forward, I usually end up hurting myself or others.

Maybe life is less like a boxing ring and more like an ice rink.

We took our kids ice skating over the holidays. They fell and scrambled and clung to the side rails. They laughed and slipped and tried to do it on their own. The movement on the rink is always a motion going in one direction. Everyone is balancing, leaning on each other for support while skating counter clockwise. I guess what I’m trying to say is that relationships work best when we stay in the rink together, and not in the ring.

Life doesn’t have to be a battle. We don’t have to fight to get ahead or fear falling behind. Staying in the rink usually requires surrendering. I have to let go of life on my terms. It means as fear rises, I refuse to put on my boxing gloves and instead tighten my laces and lean on Jesus.

I usually deal with my fear by using my own strength. But, Scripture says, “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10). When I sense my soul tensing up for a fight, the invitation is for me to relax. I can enter my fear with Jesus. Like a litany, I live these words: soul, be still.

Don’t force the doors of opportunity to open. Don’t force people to relate in ways that only work for you. Don’t push to get your way. Trust that the Lord is always present and will always lead you to love and be loved.

The next day I picked my son up from school. I asked him how his day was and in return, I got a shrug. We drove in silence the rest of the way home. I will not force a conversation or pick a fight. I won’t get in the ring. I’ll remember that we are in a circle. Sometimes connection looks like silence. Sometimes we are falling, but we keep moving in the same direction. That night he sat on the edge of my bed and talked until I couldn’t take in another word. His manlike body bent over me and his arms reached around me with a squeeze. He walked out, and when he was out of sight he shouted, “I love you, Mom.”

Listen to today’s article at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts.

3 Steps to Rebuild Life After Heartbreak & Loss

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I don’t know how I could have lost it, but I did. My wallet.

I just got back from Christmas shopping at Costco and was so happy that I found some great gifts at great sale prices. But when I got home to unload the groceries and my gifts, I realized — with a drop in my stomach — that I couldn’t find my wallet. It was a pink wristlet, a special birthday gift from a friend.

An hour later, after zooming back to the store, looking in all the shopping carts, and turning my car inside out, I had to accept the truth: my wallet was gone. And something very valuable was in my wallet: a rebate check from Costco for purchases earlier in the year.

All the savings I scooped up that morning flew away, like dollar bills with wings.

But then, I got an idea. I called Costco and asked if they could cancel the rebate check and issue me a replacement. “Yes, don’t worry,” they assured me. Even if someone found the check, they couldn’t use it because my membership number is on it. Only the owner of the check can use the credit.

It reminded me of the love that God says is ours in times we find ourselves with that same pit-in-your-stomach heartbreak or hopelessness.

There are moments in life when we may feel overwhelmed by grief and loss. The person we want to love us has left us. Or the dream we held onto for so many years has slipped from our grasp. And we feel abandoned.

We are not left to despair. God’s love for you can never be lost.

Your name is on God’s heart, and your challenges, disappointments, and losses are always on His mind.

“Can a woman forget her nursing child or lack compassion for the child of her womb? Even if these forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.”
Isaiah 49:15-16

It’s true. The one thing that is impossible to lose is the very thing God longs to give you anew today: His love.

As we approach Valentine’s Day emphasizing love and relationships, memories of loss and heartbreak may surface. How do we respond?

First, stand firm in your faith. Remember God’s goodness is like the Costco rebate check holding credit that can’t be stolen: God’s love for you will never expire. Nothing and no one can thwart God’s plans prepared just for you.

Jesus leaves the ninety-nine for just one. God will give you the care you need. God’s love will heal your heart. It’s His promise. “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jeremiah 31:3).

Second, take action. When those difficult emotions surface, take these three soul care action steps to rebuild life after heartbreak and loss. They helped me and I know they’ll empower you, too!

STEP 1:  Strengthen your faith by speaking God’s loving promises to yourself.

Simply saying, “I’m fine” doesn’t help us. God wants us to be honest. But did you know agreeing with how God sees us — when we tell ourselves the truth about our values and strengths — improves emotional wellness?  Studies show you will feel more hopeful, happier, optimistic, and less sad and angry, by writing down your strengths and what’s important to you. What is a Scripture that gives you hope?

STEP 2:  Take time for yourself.

It’s okay when difficult emotions come out. Name the emotion, then take action to do what brings you peace and joy. Jesus takes pleasure in seeing you take care of yourself. A UCLA study shows simply naming negative emotions calms anxiety in your body! What can you do today to help yourself breathe in God’s peace and joy?

STEP 3:  Sing a song to release emotions and renew your faith with worship.

Singing or listening to worship delivers two powerful benefits: it helps you release the sadness that has built up, and lifts your emotions back up by reminding you that God has been good to you and He will be faithful do it again! Research shows music calms our nervous systems, alleviates pain, and helps us sleep when we listen at bedtime.

As you practice these three soul care steps, your heart will breathe in and breathe out God’s deep, renewing love for you that can never be lost.

Look down as Jesus tenderly folds His hand into yours. Rest in His embrace. You can rebuild life after loss and heartbreak because our Loving Savior who owns the cattle on a thousand hills and knows every bird on every mountain has an unending supply of goodness and treasure reserved just for you.

Which of the 3 soul care steps encourages you?
How is God calling you to rebuild your life with His love?

Want more tips to improve your emotional wellness? Sign up for Bonnie’s free Breathe Wellness Bible Study when you preorder her new book Breathe: 21 Days to Stress Less and Transform Chaos to Calm and register (click here).

 

Listen to today’s article at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts.

Google or God? (+ a Launch Day Giveaway!)

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We’re thrilled to tell you that our newest (in)courage Bible study, Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom, is now available! Cue the confetti! This Bible study features the real-life, going-first kind of stories you know and love from our (in)courage writers and an in-depth yet accessible Scripture study — like the excerpt we’re sharing below, written by Grace P. Cho. Read on for a taste of Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom:

“The Lord brought me forth as the first of his works, before his deeds of old; I was formed long ages ago, at the very beginning, when the world came to be.”
Proverbs 8:22–23

Raise your hand if you reach for your phone, open up a browser, and ask Google for the answer to every question you have. Whether we’re searching for solutions to everyday problems, like how to unclog a sink drain, or searching for answers to more serious matters, like what side effects are caused by a parent’s cancer medication, the internet has become our source of help, hope, knowledge, and wisdom. First of all, let’s thank God for access to such a wealth of information! But then let’s ask ourselves, How often do we turn to Google instead of God for wisdom?

I’m raising my hand right there with you! It’s easy to turn to every other reliable source out there when we need guidance in understanding something. Trusting what’s tangible is simpler than having faith in the unseen — and sometimes that’s okay! God has given us tools, resources, friends, and mentors to help us live well, but we want to make sure that our ultimate source of understanding knowledge is the wisdom of God.

The Bible consists of sixty-six books written by various authors and in different genres. One genre is wisdom literature, which includes Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. Together, these books share practical insights into how to live wisely.

In Proverbs 8:1–9, God’s wisdom is personified as a woman who stands at the city gates and urges us to listen and heed her call. Let’s take a deep breath, settle in, and listen to what she has to say to us today.

Read Proverbs 8 in its entirety. What parts stand out to you about Wisdom and why?

Wisdom offers herself fully, freely, and generously to anyone who will listen and choose her — regardless of our beliefs, status, life experiences, or background. And whether we’re aware of it or not, wisdom is applied by people every single day in all spheres of life — whether it’s by kings and rulers, as verses 15–16 tell us, or by the special needs teacher who’s figuring out how to care for and educate her students well, or by the employee who wants to hold their manager accountable for inappropriate behavior, or by the young woman who notices the toxic behavior of a friend and doesn’t know what to do. Everyone needs wisdom to live this life well.

For each sticky situation we find ourselves in and for all the knowledge we need help understanding, we have access to the ultimate source of insight we need: the wisdom of God.

God’s wisdom is necessary for people to survive and flourish and fully enjoy life. His wisdom is our ultimate guide and has been since the very beginning of time. Thus, our passage for today:

“The Lord brought me forth as the first of his works,
before his deeds of old;
I was formed long ages ago,
at the very beginning, when the world came to be.”
Proverbs 8:22–23

The wisdom of God created boundaries where there was formlessness, light where there was darkness, and order out of chaos. And as God delighted over each day’s work, so did wisdom (v.31).

Now, in the same way, wisdom continues the work of shaping and creating, ordering and delighting, and giving us life when we live according to her instructions. Better than Google, wisdom is accessible to all, giving us structure and guidelines by which we can thrive.

It boils down to this: all we’ve got is God, and to begin to live wisely, we fear Him (Prov. 1:7) and obey His commandments. This doesn’t mean we need to be afraid of Him. It means that we understand who He is and who we are — He is God, and we are not. We live, struggle through, and enjoy this one life we have while being in awe of Him. And we heed His words to us, choosing to walk in His love, grace, and wisdom.

Let’s ask and seek God for wisdom, knowledge, and understanding because He is our greatest source for them all.

God, I love that from the very beginning of this world Your wisdom has been present, woven into everything we see and enjoy. I know nothing is guaranteed in life, even the goodness and well-being that could come with wisdom. But knowing that You are the source of all wisdom gives me the confidence to navigate any situation. Even when there doesn’t seem to be a way out, You can see a way through, and I trust You. I pray that my ears would be open to hear wisdom’s call so that in everything I do, I can live wisely. Amen.

by Grace P. Cho, excerpted from the BRAND NEW Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom Bible Study

Isn’t wisdom just what we all need right now? The Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom Bible Study is the third in our series of four studies, and it’s now available wherever books are sold, including:

And what would a launch day celebration be without a giveaway?!

To celebrate the release of Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom, we’re giving away FIVE gift bundles!* Just leave a comment on this post telling us where you need wisdom in your life right now, and you’ll be entered to win a bundle that includes:

We’re thrilled that this Bible study is able to be in your hands. Get your copy and let’s learn what God says about wisdom. Sign up* below and we’ll send you the first whole week of Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom for FREE so you can start right away!

Join the online study and let’s seek hearts of wisdom — together.

Then join Becky Keife for a conversation with Grace this weekend on the (in)courage podcast. Don’t miss it!

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

Signing up will get you the free week and occasional emails from (in)courage. You can opt-out at any time. The giveaway is open to US addresses only, and will close on 2/2/23 at 11:59 pm central.

Bonafide Help for the Discouraging Seasons of Life

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While 2022 held a good deal of sky-reaching highs, it had its lows too. One of those lows was an onslaught of personal discouragement that followed me from 2021. This wasn’t present in every area of my life, certainly, but it was certainly present. One area I felt it most acutely was in my professional work, specifically a change in some relationships that I first talked about here. In spite of praying and reaching out and putting all kinds of effort into widening my circle, I hadn’t experienced the success of connection I’d hoped for on that front. This loneliness in my work-life stayed consistently in my circumference, like a biting, too-cold wind from the north that constantly made me cross my arms to ward off its chill.

Add to this my internal critic reminding me daily of my shortcomings and mistakes, likely contributing to the problems at hand, and well . . . my heart found itself weighing ten pounds rather than ten ounces like the anatomy books report.

For years, I’ve prayed incessantly for a change to my situation. Unless the Lord brought me some fresh vision and camaraderie, doing what I’ve been called to do felt impossible. Then, at the tail-end of 2022, something did change. In my prayers, my heart warmed from a message I didn’t hear audibly but still sensed in the realest of ways. That message, from the Lord, was, I see you, I hear you, and I want you to believe that I have much good in store for you still in this area of your life.

While this was always true regardless of my feelings, something shifted and lightened within me. After inhaling those hopeful words, my heart and soul let out a long exhale as I really believed the message. Even my pants fit better than they did before.

What’s vitally important to know is that as of today, in 2023, my circumstances haven’t changed one whit. With no clear answers or resolution to the problem at hand, the external picture of my situation ain’t too pretty. But internally, this fresh hope shifted the winds from the frigid north to the more springtime south, blanketing my discouragement and unbelief that things will ever get better.

Perhaps a good question to answer is simply, how? How did my hope shift when my circumstances remained the same?

In his gorgeous book, Gentle & Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers, author Dane Ortlund discusses something that I believe sheds light on the subject.

In 1 Corinthians 2:12, Scripture says, “Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God.”

About this passage, Dr. Ortlund explains, “To grasp the role of the Holy Spirit, according to this text, we must bear in mind that the Greek word underlying understood (oida) should not be restricted to merely intellectual apprehension. This verb simply means ‘to know,’ and as is generally the case with the Bible’s language of epistemology, knowing here is something holistic — not less than intellectual apprehension …it is experiential knowing.”

The Holy Spirit infuses Scripture into us in a way that gives color to our lives so that what we know becomes what we actually experience on a very personal level. And in this case, my spirit of discouragement is no match for the Holy Spirit who kindly helps me see and know that God can be trusted again and again and even here too.

While I can name for you what hasn’t changed — my daily struggle — I can also name what has changed. I have a richer, deeper dependence on God as I’ve considered “opening the vents of my heart” (to use a phrase of Dr. Ortlund’s) to more fully receive God’s kindness and truths by the power of the Holy Spirit. This doesn’t mean I’ll never face discouragement again. I’m certain I will. But this is one way my faith reserves are building and growing so I’m able to recall the ways God has kept His promises for me in the past. When future discouragement leans in, I’m able to lean into Jesus Christ, who is God with us, all the more as I trust Him all the more.

After all, Jesus knows what it’s like to be us and understands every bit of what we’re going through.

If you’re carrying around a good deal of discouragement in one or more areas of your own life, take heart. A turnaround could be right around the corner — either in circumstances or, like me, in your perspective of your circumstances. It is my abundant prayer that by the power of the Holy Spirit, you know that the Lord sees you and He hears you today. Don’t doubt for a millisecond that He doesn’t have great things in mind for your future too.⁠ He loves you wildly.

In the meantime, you and I can keep ourselves in the Word, letting it be the compass that guides our hearts and keeps them headed in the right direction. We can process our discouragement with safe loved ones. We can name good things God gives us today: a bang-up sunrise, chickadees bopping around the bird feeder, a sweet or funny message from a child.

Through the Holy Spirit, we can know that God’s reserves of mercy and comfort stretch higher and deeper and further than any season of discouragement.

Thanks be to the good Lord above.

 

Listen to today’s article at the player below or wherever you stream podcasts.

How Seeing Less with Our Eyes Invites Us to See More with Our Souls

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It’s morning, so I unfold from my blankets and walk my still-pajama’d self down the stairs for coffee. On the way down the steps, as always, I cast a sleepy gaze out the large window above our front door. This window offers glimpses of what awaits after my morning coffee: rays of streaming sun or snow-covered trees or hints of green on waking-up branches.

But on this day, I peer out to see nothing. In seventeen years of repeating this ritual, I have never seen nothing.

A rare, thick fog has crept across the sidewalk and camped itself over our front lawn, cocooning us in. My sons pour cereal and I sip coffee and we all keep peeking out as we prepare to leave for the day. As we heave backpacks and lace shoes, still no hint of sky appears. It’s disorienting.

My youngest son and I walk to school on days when the weather is good. Today’s weather category is literally unclear — but after some debate, off we go. Not being able to see the full sidewalk ahead of us changes our familiar ten-minute stroll. Our steps slow and we get to school tired.

The journey is a lesson: Not being able to see changes the way we walk.

This seems like the perfect time to tell you that I sometimes worry about running ahead of God. We’ve had conversations about this, He and I. So often I pray: Lord, help me to stay in step with you. When I hear what He asks of me, I like to race off, striving to earn His love and thinking I can see what’s ahead.

I actually did that once.

I was seven or eight, heading to a lights display with my parents and grandparents. With excitement, I pointed at the lights ahead and, walk-running in my moon boots (they were cool then, thank you very much), I grabbed my dad’s hand. . .but when I looked up, I saw a stranger’s face smiling down at me. Terrified, I dropped this stranger’s hand and turned around to find my family. They’d been watching. I was fine. But I had such a hard time getting over the scare that I didn’t even enjoy the lights I’d run ahead to see.

So, on this clouded day of keeping slow pace with my youngest, I wonder, do I still run ahead? Do I follow the bright and shiny things, letting go of Who is by my side? Do I still grab onto the wrong things?

In the most mysterious way, this fog is sharpening my view. How can clear skies and straight roads give way to a fog that brings clarity?

I recall those times I’ve felt most connected to Him — when physical limitations kept me from walking; when emotional wounds forced a season of slow healing; when “no” landed unexpected and hard. Those were times I couldn’t run ahead. I could only be still. Why is it, when I can’t see, I feel Him closest and hear Him loudest?

In 1 Corinthians, Paul wrote, “Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely,” (1 Corinthians 13:12, NLT).

This wisdom about seeing imperfectly is written by the man who literally went blind when he met Jesus. This is the same man who ran ahead of God for years, carrying a self-appointed banner for God while persecuting Jesus. He believed he could see perfectly — until he met Jesus.

For three days, he waited and prayed in darkness. After Ananias prayed over him and restored his eyesight, he emerged proclaiming Jesus. In the midst of Paul’s blindness, Jesus changed his heart. Paul began to see clearest when he could see the least. Paul knew first-hand what it meant to see that only God sees with perfect clarity. From then on, he held a deep understanding of how it is God alone who offers us perfect sight.

Walking through the fog alongside my youngest, we fell into a beautiful, unspoken rhythm of staying in step. Our limited view offered a peaceful reliance and truth: Seeing less with our eyes invites us to see more with our souls.

And, if seeing less means staying in step with Him, then may we welcome the fog that holds our souls close. Because, I don’t want to run ahead. I don’t want to be distracted by what’s bright and shiny.

I don’t want to grab the wrong hand…I want only to grab God’s hand.

But He knows where I am going. And when He tests me, I will come out as pure as gold. For I have stayed on God’s paths; I have followed His ways and not turned aside.
Job 23:10-11

Looking for Joy and Delight?

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When your words came, I ate them;
they were my joy and my heart’s delight,
for I bear your name, Lord God Almighty.
Jeremiah 15:16

Read today’s Scripture slowly. Read it again.

Now let it turn your heart to prayer.

Heavenly Father, please fill me with your Word. Satisfy me with your wisdom, truth, and love. Woo and convict my heart with your great redemption story. May your words be my joy and my delight — sweeter than any dessert I could crave. Thank you for allowing me to bear your name, to be made in your image. You created me to hear your voice. I am listening. Yes, Lord, help me listen. Amen. 

 

Every Word Counts

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Kind words are like honey—
    sweet to the soul and healthy for the body.
Proverbs 16:24

One summer morning we accidentally got to the library eight minutes early. On the surface this doesn’t seem like a big deal . . . but with three spirited boys, eight extra minutes can feel like eight hours. At the time, my sons were seven, six, and four — the perfect ages for high curiosity and low impulse control. As we entered the small outer foyer and I realized the main library wasn’t open yet, low-grade panic set in. My kids were not cut from the “sit still and wait patiently” kind of cloth.

So they returned our bag full of books, slurped water from the drinking fountain, hid under the massive stairwell, and asked a gazillion questions. There was a trip to the bathroom and a thorough investigation of a row of cup- boards foolishly void of padlocks. As the minutes inched on, more people joined us in the waiting vestibule. Staring eyes weren’t in short supply.

“Be aware of others. Stay near me. Quiet words, please,” I reminded them often.

My boys weren’t being bad. Just inquisitive, antsy, talkative, active kids. And after eight minutes, their mama was exhausted. When the clock struck ten, the large sliding glass doors finally opened. The small crowd slowly descended into the sanctuary of books. Jude jumped and Elias squealed and Noah started to sprint as I reminded them again to please walk and use inside voices.

An older woman who had been waiting nearby caught my eye. “It’s going to be a long summer,” she said.

“Yeah, it is,” I replied with a weak smile and sigh.

Then her eyes brightened, and her smile warmed. “But you’re doing a great job. Thank you for being here,” she added.

I had braced myself for a stranger’s rebuke — parenting in public in the little years made me sweat with anxiety. But instead of judgment I was met with the kindness of simple encouragement. All I could do was whisper thank you. She gave me a knowing nod and entered the library as I followed my sons — my back a bit straighter, my steps a bit lighter.

A small, unexpected thank you from a stranger. A word to make someone feel seen. Is there an easier gift of kindness to give?

So I pass on these sweet words to you: Thank you. Thank you for changing diapers and reading stories. Thank you for going to work and still making dinner when you’re dog-tired. Thank you for cheering at swim lessons and folding laundry and answering the billionth question to quench a little person’s curiosity. Thank you for helping your neighbor and listening to your coworker. Thanks for getting to church early to set up or staying late to tear down. Thanks for mentoring that teenager. Thanks for doing your mundane job with a smile. Thanks for putting one foot in front of the other.

Thank you for being you. No one else could fill your shoes.

TODAY: Choose someone to give the gift of simple encouragement.

 

-Written by Becky Keife, adapted from The Simple Difference: How Every Small Kindness Makes a Big Impact

 

 

Why Listening Is a Sacred Act

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Have you ever needed someone to just listen? To be with you in the thick of whatever you’re going through?

I used to think presence was the mark of a good friend. But now I realize presence is even more than that; being with reflects the very nature of Christ.

Listening with care, humility, and attentiveness is a sacred act.

When a hurting woman reached out for Jesus, He stopped and was with her. He chose to be in the moment instead of rushing ahead to the next. He extended the divine gift of presence. Yes, Jesus’s power healed the bleeding woman, but He also listened. He didn’t give her a speech – He gave her what she needed.

We’re bombarded with opinions and stories every day. When I feel weariness deep inside my bones, I don’t need more words, perspectives, platitudes, advice, sermons, or first-hand experiences rehashed to me.

I need presence. I need someone to simply offer the gentle, Christ-like gift of listening.

In our hopes of connecting, we can sometimes focus on ourselves more than simply bearing witness to another’s pain. We want to connect an experience someone else is going through with a time in our own lives, but if we’re not careful, we can quickly make their pain about, well, ourselves.

When my preschool son was going through health struggles in the hospital, a well-meaning loved one shared their elderly mother-in-law’s medical woes with me, saying they completely understood what my family was going through. They were trying to connect but missed the mark. The earnest intent of their heart didn’t outweigh the hurtful impact on mine. I found myself in tears, wishing they would have just listened. The experiences and struggles were not the same – and their words, well-meaning as they might have been, left me feeling more unseen and alone.

Finding the right words can be tricky. It’s not easy to know what to say, especially when someone is experiencing a tough situation you haven’t personally walked through. Some of the most meaningful moments in my life have been when friends have simply acknowledged that I was going through a rough patch. After arriving home from a hospital stay with my son, hearing, “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here,” meant a lot to me. It created space for me to share how I felt as I wrestled wIth complicated emotions and overwhelming circumstances. It made space for me to just be, dwelling in the company of someone who cared.

Now, when I find myself hesitating to reach out to someone going through a difficult time because I don’t know what to say – and I don’t want to say the wrong thing – I try to remember that presence matters.

Sometimes the best gift we can give is a listening ear. During an intense season of specialist appointments for my son, a friend dropped off a small bag filled with sweet and spicy tea, sea-salt-sprinkled dark chocolate, and a small candle. Nestled inside was a little note that said, “I’m sorry you’re going through so much. You’re not alone.”  She was with me from afar. She didn’t offer simplistic silver linings or try to center herself in my pain. She simply showed up. I felt cared for and seen. 

I think of her gentle gesture whenever I sip sweet and spicy tea.

Through the past year, I’ve had friends across the country who’ve grieved the loss of parents, experienced divorce, and endured a job loss. While many of these loved ones live too far away to leave a gift on their doorstep, I try to find other ways to show up –  a meal delivery, a $5 coffee gift card, a brief hand-written note – to let them know they’re not alone. If and when they want a listening ear, I’m available from afar, even if we can’t sip our tea together in person.

Throughout Scripture, Jesus modeled a listening steeped in compassion and empathy. He showed us that presence can be a sacred gift.

With God’s help, we can extend care with our presence. With our willingness to listen, we can reflect the love of our merciful, empathetic God by allowing our company to minister to someone who is hurting.

The next time someone you love is holding hurt, release the pressure to have the perfect words to say. Rest in the grace of a merciful God who shows up over and over again.

God, be near to us as we are near to others. Help us know when to speak and when to listen. In your great compassion, grow in us deep care for others. Help us be attentive to the hurting and present to the pain. Thank you for your never-ending, always-present mercy. Amen.

 

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Recall God’s Faithfulness and Move Forward

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I was in my hometown for a few hours the other day. As I drove over a hill, what I saw unexpectedly made me catch my breath and tear up. I hadn’t seen that church steeple in years.

I went out of my way and continued down the road so I could pull into the church parking lot. I parked and was all alone in my car. I listened to the children play at the preschool playground. I welled up with joy and thanksgiving that this was where I have such fond memories of VBS with water balloon fights and silly games. It had felt like a special place — what I didn’t understand at the time was the presence of the Holy Spirit.

I cried as I thanked God for my Sunday school teacher who welcomed me with a hug as I was crying not wanting to be away from my parents. She oozed grace and love in her slender figure and set the stage for me to hear about Jesus in a new and fresh way. I think about her fondly when I teach young girls at my church.

This was the place where I first sang to Jesus, not knowing that I was worshipping or the power of my voice. I don’t remember the songs, but I remember I was excited the choir director really “saw” me and wanted me to be a part of a group of voices singing about God.

This church was where deposits were made in me as a toddler, preschooler, and elementary student. God was pouring into my Spirit long before I knew who Jesus really was or that I needed Him. I liked it under that steeple, even if I didn’t understand why.

I didn’t know the full truth or have my eyes opened to God’s salvation yet, but God was faithful in this place to me long ago. I sat in the parking lot for just a few more minutes and allowed my unveiled eyes to see this place in a new light, in God’s light. He gave me a new revelation about how He has worked in my life in different seasons and how He has loved me through them all.

At the beginning of a new year or new season, we need to take time to recall and recount God’s faithfulness and what He has done in our lives, especially when we didn’t know what He was doing at the time.

I look back at my life and career and see God’s faithfulness clearly on display — whether in that church in my hometown, in a classroom, hospital, boardroom, or on a travel adventure. There are big moments we each recognize as pivotal moments where God led and we knew if He didn’t show up, His plans wouldn’t work. Jesus has done miracles in our lives and we need to take notice.

Co-founding (in)courage is one of those moments for me, both in my career and in my life. At just thirty years old, I had felt passionate about creating a place for God’s daughters for years. Many things in my career and life led to this point. God had given me the vision to start something new and then a partner in Holley Gerth and a place to try it at DaySpring.

The mission was for God’s daughters to be “in Christ” so they could be “in courage.” I knew without Jesus, we can’t be confident enough to do the things He calls us to do, in the small or big moments, much less cheer each other on while walking out our faith.

Back then, (in)courage was a new concept for Jesus-loving voices and creatives to gather and share what God was doing in and through them. It was trailblazing and fresh in a new realm of social media and the online space. The community God created behind the scenes, behind the screen, and in person was special and holy. If God hadn’t shown up, you wouldn’t be reading these words here. I didn’t know all that God was doing then.

I recall and recount what God has accomplished through (in)courage these last thirteen years and praise Him for allowing me to be a part — in vision, in business, and as an unexpected writer. Just as God called me into an adventure with Him in my faith and my work those many years ago, I sense His calling again. So, this will be my last article on (in)courage.

Because I can recount what God has done in the past, I know He will guide me on my next Jesus-led adventure. Do I have complete clarity as I write this to you about my next steps? No, but that doesn’t make it any less exciting.

I trust Him and know He will bring a fresh voice in my place that will bless you. I trust God that He is in the details and will work out His plans, whether I am present or not. I won’t be an active member of this community but will still cheer on what God is doing through (in)courage, the writers, and the readers.

If I can leave you with one parting message, a love note, per se, from me to you, this would be it:

Remember, God is faithful to you. Take time to recall. He will lead you on the greatest adventure with Him, perfect for you. Do not be afraid but allow Him to hold you and mold you. Have courage because you are in Christ. Do what He tells you, especially when it’s not easy, convenient, or doesn’t make sense. The Kingdom needs your obedience and loving faithfulness.

Thank you for being here. Love to you all.

 

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How to Deal with Toxic People

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God never meant for us to carry the burden of changing other people’s minds about us. He never meant for us to be responsible for other people’s emotional baggage, sin, and wounds.

I had to learn to create healthy boundaries, and I had to ask God for the courage to speak the truth to the toxic people in my life. This wasn’t easy for me. Maybe it’s not easy for you either. My father left when I was seven. My mother was not a loving person. She was verbally and emotionally abusive, always making me question my choices. My mother’s way of controlling me was to make me feel guilty, so in order to prove my love to her, I had to do X, Y, and Z.

But I have a loving heavenly Father who is rewriting those scripts. Because of Jesus, I don’t have to stay stuck in the painful and destructive patterns of my past. Jesus meets us where we are and invites us to a new life in Him.

On my healing journey, I recognized all the ways I repeated the long-ingrained, unhealthy pattern of trying to appease toxic people. I incorrectly believed that if only I could love them and care for them more or be kinder to them, then they would stop being toxic. You can’t change another person, but you can learn healthy ways to handle hard relationships.

Here are five tips for coping with toxic people:

1. Don’t stay silent. You matter. Tell someone about the toxic person in your life.
It is not your job to protect the toxic person who has hurt you. You need to protect yourself. You are worthy to be loved. The first step to protecting your- self is to speak the truth. You’ve tried with all your might to protect that person who is wounding or has wounded you. But suffering in silence is not what our loving Savior wants for you.

2. Create boundaries. Even if you feel guilty, it does not mean you are guilty.
The toxic person wants to exert control over the narrative of your relationship and life through their words or behavior. When you create boundaries, they will become upset and say things to make you feel guilty in order to keep you within the box of your fears, inaction, and silence. Just because a toxic person accuses you of being uncaring, overly sensitive, or selfish does not make it true. You do not need to justify your boundaries. You have the freedom to set boundaries to protect your well-being.

3. Enlist support and role-play conversations.
Being assertive and speaking up for yourself with a toxic person is a new, odd, and scary experience if you’ve never been given permission to do so. Not sure what to say or where to start? That’s okay. Don’t be shy to ask a loving friend to help you write a script and role-play the boundaries conversation with you. We all need practice and support in creating new patterns of relating. That’s what I had to do.

4. Limit the time you spend with toxic people.
People who are emotionally toxic are very good at intimidation, manipulation, and gaslighting, so be gentle with yourself. It is easy to feel confused, anxious, and scared, or to freeze up when you engage with a toxic person, so limit the time you spend with them. When conversations get overwhelming, stick to stating what they did or said, how it makes you feel, and what action you will take and the changes you will make. Do not ask the toxic person for permission to enact these changes. You are not seeking agreement. You are communicating your boundaries.

5. Grieve the death of expectations and dreams.
I had to grieve the death of my expectations and dreams for the ideal friend, mentor, and mom I longed for so I could grow into the daughter of a loving heavenly Father. It’s important to God that we trust Him with the truth, even if it hurts. We experience a powerful rest when we give God the burdens we were never meant to carry.

People sometimes ask me if I’ve forgiven my mother for the decades of verbal and emotional abuse. I have done the hard work of grieving and healing. I have forgiven my mother. She was my whole life, and I love her more than anyone may understand.

While forgiveness takes one person, reconciliation takes two. Loving our parent, spouse, friend, mentor, or pastor does not mean open borders to toxicity, fear, intimidation, or manipulation. We can begin to make different choices that are healthy for ourselves and that break old, hurtful patterns. We can stop being enablers for hurtful people in our lives so that they, too, can face the truth of their brokenness with God.

– by Bonnie Gray, excerpted from Come Sit With Me

Right now on weekend episodes of the (in)courage podcast, we’re airing eight chapters from our book Come Sit With Me: How to Delight in Differences, Love Through Disagreements, and Live with Discomfort  — and they’re read by the authors! On Saturdays in January and February, we’ll hear from Jennifer Dukes Lee, Becky Keife, Grace P. Cho, Kathi Lipp, Mary Carver, Jami Nato, Michele Cushatt, and Bonnie Gray. Friends, you do not want to miss these episodes! There’s something so special about hearing the words read by the author who penned their story.

Subscribe to the (in)courage podcast today, wherever you stream your pods, so you don’t miss a single episode. You can always catch up on the (in)courage podcast, listen to episodes from the archives, find show notes, and learn more about the DaySpring items mentioned during episodes on our podcast landing page.

 

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Jesus Never Asked Us to Count Calories

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It’s January, and for most of my life that meant I’d do three things:

  1. Come up with a Bible reading plan.
  2. Make a list of goals for the year.
  3. Start a diet.

This is what my life has looked like ever since I entered my first Weight Watchers meeting at the age of twelve.

I have spent over forty years trying to lose weight.

I learned from an early age that “normal” food was the enemy and that it was my job, especially as someone who wanted to be a representative of Christ, to look like I was without the “sin” of overeating. I definitely couldn’t eat like my friends. So I was a devotee of Lean Cuisine meals, cottage cheese, and dried-out chicken breasts.

Food was the enemy, and my job was to defeat the enemy and not eat the food. The holiest thing I could do was to starve myself.

If only I had enough willpower, enough strength, I could resist eating everything at youth group and after Sunday services at church.

These destructive patterns continued until I was older and had a family of my own. I would make a meal for them, then eat my Lean Cuisine in the other room so I wouldn’t be tempted to eat the “real” food everyone else was eating. Even for years after my kids had grown and had moved out of the house, I would continue to play tricks with my food — postponing meals for hours and then binging, asking my husband to hide food from me, and trying dozens of other ways to keep food over enemy lines.

But this year? I’ve decided to stop making food the enemy.

This is the first year of my life that I didn’t start a diet on January 1. Instead of spending New Year’s Day throwing out any food that could feel like a treat, we hosted our friend, Diane, who brought a feast of traditional Korean food to our house.

When I consider how God wants me to think about food, sharing a meal from my friend’s culture definitely ranks higher than calorie counting and “being good” (the term for eating any low-calorie meal in my house growing up).

I’m dedicating this year to listening to the body God gave me instead of listening to outside voices that want to shame me into buying their food, exercise, or supplement program.

If I’m hungry, I’ll eat, because that’s how God has designed my body to work. (Even though my “hunger signal” is all messed up from decades of dieting.)

I’ll move my body — not to lose weight but for joy — while dancing with my husband, exploring the outdoors with our dog, and taking care of the house and property God has entrusted us with.

Now, as I’ve spent more time in the New Testament, I can see that Jesus not only loved food, but meals were part of how He ministered to so many.

Jesus had a short time in ministry (the most important ministry to ever exist) but when I look at how Jesus dealt with food, He wasn’t slicing up some dried fish and grilled vegetables and walking to the next house. One of the biggest miracles He performed was feeding five thousand people (which was probably more like ten thousand since they didn’t count women or children). Jesus knew that physical needs had to be met along with spiritual needs.

For Jesus, food was not just about functioning.

For Jesus, the meals were the ministry.

He celebrated with others. When Jesus was at the wedding with His mom and they ran out of wine, He recognized that wine was an important part of the celebration. Not only did Jesus turn water into wine, but He gave them the best wine.

He contributed to helping the poor. He let the religious leaders of the time know that it mattered whether they served and loved the poor or not. “For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink” (Matthew 25:42, NLT). Through food, Jesus demonstrated that charity is about serving His beloved.

He communicated His values. Jesus spent a lot of time eating with “inappropriate” people: the sinful woman, tax collectors, and others who were considered God’s enemies. Jesus cherished each of these people, not just with words, but also in sharing meals with those others believed He should not have even been seen with.

He connected with those around Him. On His last night on earth, Jesus didn’t gather His closest people around a campfire or a pulpit; He gathered them around a table with food in order to eat together.

Food was important to Jesus. And what have I done? I’ve spent most of my life trying to pretend food wasn’t important at all. That I should be OK living on lettuce and 100 Calorie Packs. For some of us, one of the bravest acts we will partake in is untangling decades of lies about food and, instead of fearing food, actually finding the meaning in it.

If you also struggle with how you relate to food, maybe it’s time to rethink that particular relationship.

Be gentle with yourself. God is with you as you figure this out. You are not alone.

As with all of His most beloveds, He is at the table with you.

Want to learn more about worry-free living? Check out Kathi’s book, An Abundant Place.

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“I’ll Hold It with You”

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I was about to walk into a birthday party when my phone buzzed. After several months of waiting for appointments and tests, the results were finally here and the diagnosis was clear: cancer.

Again. Actually, again again.

Cancer keeps weaving its way back into our family story, climbing into another chapter, leaving its fingerprints year after year.

Just half an hour earlier, I twirled in my bright fuchsia dress, ready to celebrate.

I read the message again as I contemplated driving home. How can I walk into the party and not give it away? I wondered as I stared at my own reflection in the rearview mirror, eyes glassy and cheeks tearstained. Most of my closest friends were already inside, the ones who prayed for answers all year long, the very people I would have immediately called after reading the text — if they hadn’t been gathered for cake and karaoke.

I’ll tell them tomorrow, I decided, blinking furiously, determined to show up and not steal the moment. As long as one other person knows, as long as I’m not holding this on my own, then I can carry it with a smile for the next two hours. But two texts and three unanswered FaceTime calls later, my plan crumbled. Out-of-state friends were out at dinner or away from their phones. I gave myself a minute, reapplied lipstick, took a deep breath, and said, “Well Jesus, it’s You and me. Will You carry this with me? Help me bring joy to the room and then get me home.”

Half an hour later, a ruffled fuchsia dress danced around the room. But before that, before the chocolate cake or the group selfie or the mediocre but so very earnest karaoke, Jesus showed up to greet me at the door.

Oh, He looked like my friend Janie. His voice sounded like her whispered question, “Weren’t you supposed to find out today?” Jesus’s arms wrapped tightly around me and whispered, I’ll hold it with you, as I quietly replied “Yes, Dad has cancer. But tonight is for celebrating. I’ll tell everyone tomorrow.”

We danced. We laughed. We sang.

The joy was real. The sadness was, too. And for a few hours, I spun around and smiled wide, feeling the tension while knowing one thing for sure: Jesus was in the room.

Ecclesiastes 3 says there is a time and a season for everything. I’ve often thought of verses 2-8 as stand-alone opposites — a time to be born and a time to die, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance — but sometimes we find ourselves in a season that seems to hold everything.

We blink back tears while twirling, carry a newborn while standing at a gravesite, and celebrate another year of life while wondering how much time remains. We discover grief and gratitude often go together and hope and heartache tend to hold hands. We sit in the tension of the in-between. . . and we find that Jesus is there, too. He’s there in the season of a lot, listening to every parking lot prayer. He joins us in the middle of the unknown, staying with us as we cry in the car, greeting us at the door, spinning us around on the living room floor, drawing us close and whispering, I’ll hold it with you.

Even the most overwhelming and seemingly impossible of circumstances is no match for the One who holds it all and says “this isn’t too much for Me.”

This season is stretching on. The path forward isn’t clear and we don’t know what’s next. But I’m resting in this as I reach for a bright dress, choosing to dance through the wait.

For everything there is a season, and the unchanging God will be with us in every one. Our circumstances don’t change His character and although our Right Now might be a lot, His hands are not too full.

We have a God who doesn’t tease, who sees the end from the beginning, and has promised to bring us all the way Home. No matter what tomorrow brings, He will carry us through.

If today’s post resonated and you’d like more encouragement from Kaitlyn, her 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.

 

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For When Life Is Hurried and Heavy

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My cooking has gotten worse lately. About a month ago, I shared some sweet potato chili with my family, and half the sweet potatoes were still hard as rocks. Last week, I cooked a dish I’ve made dozens of times, and I overcooked the sausage, until it was so tough it took twice as long as normal to chew through a piece. (And that was the meal I ended up bringing over to a friend, before realizing how much I’d overcooked it.)

Then I made a new breakfast dish, but I undercooked it, so there were watery eggs weeping out of the center. I also over-salted a batch of soup, didn’t bake one pizza long enough, then baked another pizza too long.

I often make mistakes in my cooking, especially when trying new recipes. But my errors have been happening more frequently — and with dishes I’ve been making for years. I can’t chock these mistakes up to inexperience. Rather, these errors are due to hurry.

I left the sausage dish in too long because I was doing other things and not paying attention. I took the eggs out too early because I was running out of time before needing to drive my kids somewhere. I didn’t let the chili simmer long enough because, again, I was jumping to the next thing.

I’m not leaving enough time to finish one task properly before I go on to start the next. My brain feels scattered and frenetic. I’ve taken on too much.

I’ve been darting back and forth through my days looking as frantic as a squirrel trying to cross a busy road. And, like those squirrels, I’ve left no margin for error, no space if I need to veer to the side. So when a meal requires five more minutes in the oven, or when an article I submitted needs more editing than I anticipated, or when a child requires a little more attention than normal, I’m completely thrown off course. There’s no time for those things, and I end up rushing around, living a haphazard life.

Our rushing, our doing too much, and our habitual overcommitment make life and work harder than they need to be. Jesus gives us an easy yoke and a light burden, but then we insist on adding “hurry” on top. And hurry always ends up being heavy.

We may have seasons in life that are busier than others. They require more of us, more of our time and energy and effort. But what God calls us to is never meant to be fueled by “anxious toil,” as Psalm 127 says. He doesn’t want us running on the fumes of our own messiah-complex, and He doesn’t want us living in frantic fear because we don’t trust Him.

One of my favorite passages is Psalm 131. The second verse says, “But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me” (Psalm 131:2, ESV).

If I were to describe the state of my soul, I probably wouldn’t use the words “calm and quiet.” Frantic and harried more accurately describe me most days. But even in busy seasons, chaos, or hardship, King David reminds us through the words of Psalm 131 that our souls can, in fact, be calm and quiet. We can slow down, refusing to live a life of anxious toil and instead resting in the arms of our infinite, sufficient God who cares for us like a mother cares for her child.

I’m still learning this, and I have a long way to go. “Hurry” can be a glittery temptation. It feels more productive and can sometimes make us look good from the outside. But hurry is not the way of a God who is never in a rush.

He’s a God who gave us the Sabbath and a God who crafted us to be finite. And He’s also a God who invites us to a life marked not by how much we get done or how well we can multitask. Rather, He invites us to set down the burden of hurry and live the life He’s called us to, all with a calm and quiet soul.