Kindness for the Long Haul

Kindness for the Long Haul

by

Kindness once is a small stone skipped in the large lake of a life. The ripple is visible and meaningful in the moment — but eventually it will fade. Repeated kindness, on the other hand, creates an ongoing impact. Like pebble upon pebble upon pebble ricocheting off the glassy water. The rings of influence widen, the depth of impact deepens. When the stones keep coming, they’re sure to create waves of lasting change.

When I think about the impact of perpetual kindness in my life, I think of my friend Esther.

I met Esther my sophomore year of college when she was the new, twenty-something staffer for the campus ministry I was involved in. The ministry encouraged discipleship. I didn’t really know what it meant to be “discipled,” but I longed to grow in my faith and for someone to guide the way.

Esther and I started meeting weekly in my beige cinder block dorm room. I guess I expected to learn about the Bible and how to love Jesus more. I thought someone more spiritually mature could keep me accountable with my boyfriend and my progress with Scripture memory. I was a high achiever and eager to add “good Christian” to my accolades. But Esther didn’t give me a list of spiritual checkboxes. Instead, she taught me what it meant to care for someone’s heart. She taught me about the kindness of Jesus by living it.

When Esther asked a question, she leaned in to hear the answer. She was at ease in my awkward silence. She wasn’t afraid of the messy parts of my past or how confused I felt about pieces of my present. Esther just wanted to be with me.

One Thursday afternoon, several months into our meetings, we decided to hang out at Starbucks instead of in my dorm. With mocha Frappuccinos sweating between us, we huddled around a small table along the far wall of windows. Through the haze of time I don’t remember the story I told or the problem I was processing, but I do remember how Esther suddenly reached into her bag and pulled out a collapsible keyboard and attached it to her Palm. (Yes, this was long before the days of smartphones and tablets.) As I talked, Esther started typing. I asked what she was doing.

“I usually take notes about our time together later,” she explained, “but what you’re sharing is really important. I don’t want to forget it.”

I must have had a strange look on my face because Esther quickly added, “I just want to remember how to pray for you and be able to follow up later on what we’ve talked about today. Does that make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No. Not uncomfortable.” I wiped the tears that emerged without warning. “It makes me feel seen. Loved. Invested in . . . like no one ever has.”

Esther’s thoughtful questions and attentive listening made me feel cared for in a way I had never experienced before. We continued to meet regularly for more than two years. I was sold on the life-changing power of discipleship. But Esther’s impact in my life wasn’t because of a certain organization or curriculum. Esther changed my life because she was one person who showed up over and over to love and serve another person.

She saw me and accepted me, right where I was, from right where she was.

TODAY: Ask a friend how they’re really doing and lean in to listen to the answer.

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

 

Announcing the Heart of Wisdom Online Bible Study!!

by

Want to do a Bible study but aren’t sure where to start? Looking to walk through Scripture with a fantastic group of women? Need someone else to handle the planning and coordinating that comes with organizing a Bible study?

Above all that, are you searching for the kind of wisdom that only comes from the Lord? We’ve got you, friend!

Join us for our Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom Online Bible study, led by Grace P. Cho! Yep, it’s time for our winter study, and this time we’re searching for wisdom with an easy-to-join, deeply impactful study. We can’t wait! We will spend six weeks going through the Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom Bible study, written by Grace P. Cho and featuring stories from several of our (in)courage contributors.

Join the Heart of Wisdom Online Bible Study!

Here’s what you need to know:

1. You’ll need a copy of Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom to fully participate in the study. We will provide the reading guidelines, discussion questions, and video conversations along the way!

2. Officially sign up for the study (it’s free to join!). Click here and register. When you do, we’ll send you the first week from Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom AND a printable page of Scripture Memory bookmarks for FREE!

3.  The study runs from February 20th to March 31st.  Every Monday you can start reading that week’s chapter, and we’ll share the memory verse for the week on our social channels. On Thursdays, you can tune in for “Ten Minutes of Wisdom with Grace” — a brief, inspiring video! We’ll also send you an email with a weekly recap, including the memory verse, a link to the video on YouTube, lock screens, reflection questions, and more.

This really couldn’t be easier!

Invite a few friends to join you! Send them to this page so they can sign up! If you’re looking to connect with other women in real life, this is a great way to do so. Simply read the Bible study each week, then gather together (in person or online) to watch that week’s video, enjoy your own discussion, and close in prayer.

That’s it! Super fun and low-stress, right? That’s how we like to do things when life is already full to the brim.

Don’t have your copy of the study yet or want to give a copy to a friend? Cue a GIVEAWAY! [giveaway now closed]

Tell us in the comments if you’ve got your book already or to whom you’d like to gift a copy, and we’ll pick FIVE of you to WIN a free Bible study! The giveaway is open to U.S. addresses only and closes on February 13th at 11:59 pm central.

Then, mark your calendars for February 20th when we kick off the Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom Online Bible Study! We hope you’ll join us. Sign up here or at the form below!

We can’t wait to get started!

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

Listen in to a conversation with Create in Me a Heart of Wisdom author Grace P. Cho on the (in)courage podcast!

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

 

Signing up will get you the OBS, a free week, and occasional emails from (in)courage. You can opt-out at any time.

In Uncertainty and Limbo, You Are Not Alone

by

“I can’t go back to church,” she confessed as we stood in my driveway. She had just dropped off her daughter for a sleepover. Before heading back to her car, we paused for an impromptu check-in. I could tell she was wrestling with something. She was in a different place.

In fact, since COVID-19 had broken our rhythms and disrupted our normal comings and goings, we all were in a different place. During the time we weren’t gathering each Sunday morning to worship collectively, we didn’t see, hear, or touch each other on a regular basis. With the absence of our weekly ritual, we were distant and disoriented in all kinds of ways. While we were away from each other, we missed the progression of each other’s lives. Children kept growing. Life seasons changed. People died. Dreams were born. But we missed it.

As we began to slowly reappear in each other’s lives, the growth, changes, and shifts that occurred were undeniable. However, we weren’t quite sure how to talk about it. It reminds me of when grandparents don’t see their grandchildren for a long time. The grandparents try to pick up where they left off from the last time they were with their grandchildren, but the grandchildren have outgrown that place. The kids have developed and are different, so naturally, they aren’t wanting or able to relate in the same ways they used to. So, it takes a while to fill in the gaping hole of time.

My friend and I were trying to recalibrate — to bring each other up to speed so that we could move forward together from the present. We awkwardly tried to feel each other out. I sensed that she didn’t know if she could be completely transparent. She didn’t know how I’d feel about the ways she’d evolved in our time away from each other. She thought that I would judge her for choosing not to go back to church. As I listened to her nervously explain, anticipating a negative reaction from me, I could tell that she felt alone in her experience. She shared why she couldn’t go back to normal — to the way things were with church. But she also felt insecure about having such a strong conviction without possessing a clear vision for the new way forward. I asked her if she felt in limbo, in between places. She was relieved to hear words that resonated with her soul and experience.

I then shared this with her:

In 2016, I stood in someone else’s driveway listening as a couple shared with me that they couldn’t go back to their church. As they professed their convictions, I grieved their experience. Spirit whispered to me that more people will be stirred to move on from their local churches. As I gasped in horror, Spirit encouraged me not to be afraid and assured me that though this felt painful, goodness would prevail. I certainly didn’t and still don’t understand, but I chose to trust Spirit more than I trust my feelings. 

When my friend awkwardly poured out her convictions and anxiety onto my driveway, I wasn’t shocked. This kind of impromptu confession had become a familiar experience. I had not only listened in driveways, but also on sidewalks after events, at the end of business meetings, off in the corner during a social gathering – places no one plans to spew their pent-up emotional or spiritual conundrums.

Each time, I listened intensely. And when they paused, signaling me to evaluate their dilemma about church, or a lack thereof, I shared what Spirit whispered to me years ago and how I can see goodness in uncertainty – the limbo, the in-between, the not going back to normal while not being completely sure about what’s next.

The good news is that in the absence of certainty, God is fully present and magnified. God is in this in-between place, in our questions, our searching, our courageous movement and shifting. God is with us in the driveway as we grasp for assurance, direction, and protection. And it’s good!

With the sharing of this revelation came an audible exhale. Each time, I witnessed relief replace anxiety and celebration overtake isolation. I realized that although some of us have been motivated to leave our local church, or not go back to normal, we also need to be in each other’s presence to stir life within one another. Hebrews 10:24-25 encourages us to not neglect meeting together:

“Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works. And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near.”

I grew up reading this passage solely in regard to attending church on Sunday mornings. Experiencing people ‘not going back to church’ has expanded my understanding and application. In the absence of our Sunday gathering rituals – by necessity or by choice — we still need to intentionally come together and hold space for one another, to connect, process, and confess. Whether we meet in a church building on Sundays or a coffee shop on Wednesdays,  we need time together to be vulnerable and to be validated. We need close proximity to snuff out isolation.

A few of us decided to organize a monthly gathering to simply be able to see, motivate, and encourage one another. We call it Potluck. We choose someone’s home to meet in, take a dish, spend time together, check in, and catch up. We bring ourselves in from the driveways, corners, sidewalks, and distance to a sense of belonging. Gathering brings definition to the in-between place and reminds us not to be afraid. Meeting together helps reconcile the limbo and calls it good!

Feeling uncertain about the way forward is okay. But remember, being in limbo does not mean you have to be alone. 

 

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

Doing What Jesus Says Even When It’s Awkward

by

I’ve been falling in love with daily walks and the way the rhythm of my feet moves my heart to the rhythm of prayer. And by prayer, I mean just a conversation with Jesus.

I talk to Him about the topic of a podcast I’ve just listened to or about the beauty I’m noticing around me — sunlight streaming through oak trees or a slight breeze waving the fronds of California palms. As my feet move along sunny sidewalks and down narrow paths, I tell Jesus what’s on my mind, ask Him questions, and wait for His reply.

It was during one of these conversations that I told Jesus I want to experience more of Him this year. I desire to understand His love for me – and for others – more fully. I want to be fully aware of His ways and His workings. I didn’t have an immediate revelation or hear an audible voice speaking back to me. But I knew Jesus was with me. And it was enough to just be with Him.

As I was nearing the end of my walk, a neighbor came to mind, a mom who lived around the corner from us. With the morning sun warm on my face, I heard in my spirit, Stop and talk to her. And tell her that I love her.

Now understand, the woman who had popped into my thoughts was nice and friendly — but we weren’t friends. We had waved hello and made small talk. But all I really knew about her was that her family had moved from another state a couple years back and she had five kids. In my book, that’s the kind of person you chat with in the driveway, not the kind whose doorbell you ring mid-morning for no real reason other than to say, “God told me to tell you He loves you.”

So the internal uncertainty began. Did Jesus really say that? Was that my own voice? Am I just trying to manifest my own “Jesus experience”?

As I wrestled with my thoughts and asked God to bring clarity to my mind, here’s what I realized:

It actually didn’t matter whether Jesus specifically told me to stop and talk to this neighbor or not. Because He had already said it in the past. To me. To you. To all of us. “Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other” (John 13:34).

My heart thumped a bit faster. Did I feel awkward ringing someone’s doorbell without an obvious reason to be there? Yep! Was I also aware that this woman and her family seemed to be firmly established in a different set of religious beliefs than I was? Uh-huh.

But here’s the deal: Awkwardness and differences are not reasons to ignore Jesus.

And Jesus said again, “This is my commandment: Love each other in the same way I have loved you” (John 15:12).

Rounding the final bend before reaching my neighbor’s house, I considered the many ways Jesus loves me. He loves me with compassion. He loves me with truth, discernment, provision, joy, and peace. But at the top of my list? He loves me with His presence. Just being together, knowing He is available, attentive, and interested in what concerns me – yes, that’s one of the deepest ways I know His love.

Yes, I can love someone else in that same way.

I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. The husband answered and invited me in. His wife sat at the kitchen table feeding the baby his morning cereal. She apologized for the state of her hair and clothes and home while offering me a seat at the table.

“I was on my way home from a walk,” I explained, “and I thought of you. So, I decided to just stop by and say hello.”

Simple. Honest. And she was genuinely happy I did.

We spent the next thirty minutes chatting about holiday travels and kids starting sports soon. I made silly faces at her smiley one-year-old and rolled a slobbery ball (his saliva, not mine) back and forth across the table. I asked her what it’s been like to live far away from family and if California feels like home yet. I told her about my job and how much I love our recent weather. She shared about the gift of her church and how she likes listening to uplifting podcasts. It was the simple beginning of what I hope to be a new friendship.

When I stood up to leave, I hugged the mama with the messy bun and baby on her hip, and she sincerely thanked me for stopping by.

“Well, thank you for letting me intrude on your day,” I said. “It was so great to hang out for a bit and get to know you better.” Then I took a deep breath and added, “Also, as I was walking, I felt like God wanted me to tell you that He loves. He sees you and is with you, right now.”

She hugged me again. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that today.”

Dear sister, maybe you need those words today too.

God loves you. He sees you. He is with you right now.

Or maybe you need the reminder that it’s always the right time to love someone the way God is so good at loving you. Don’t let uncertainty or awkwardness or perceived differences keep you from a simple step of love.

For more encouragement on embracing awkward moments for the sake of loving others, check out Becky’s book, The Simple Difference.

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

His Truth Keeps Marching On

by

It was a small fib. But I was a little girl. Just five years old, I suddenly had a haul of pocket change when I had not a job, a piggy bank, or a way to get my tiny fingers on all those shiny nickels and dimes. 

So, I lied about the money. Where did I get it? 

“I found it on the sidewalk.” Or, “My friend at kindergarten gave it to me.” Or, “Daddy dropped it in the backyard.” Or, “Mommy left it in the kitchen.” You get the drift. Every story got more convoluted and, to my parents’ ears, surely more absurd. 

To a person telling a lie, it’s an exercise in self-deception, convincing yourself you’re not “cutting from whole cloth”– or lying like crazy — when all that subterfuge keeps doubling down on itself until not a thread of frayed truth remains. 

I’m still amazed, looking back, at how determined I was to make my fibs seem truthful. “But It’s true!” I pleaded to my parents — who let me coil myself deeper into my fabricated hole. They knew eventually I’d understand this: 

Telling lies is a path to pain — until we walk back to Christ, our Truth. God “detests lying lips” (Proverbs 12:22.) He makes that clear in  Psalm 101:7: 

“No one who practices deceit 
    will dwell in my house; 
no one who speaks falsely 
    will stand in my presence.” 

That’s the landscape I dared to trod in Double the Lies, the second installment of my historical mystery series about theologian-turned-detective Annalee Spain. Why this topic? I had personal experience of twisting a lie into deceitful truth, especially when lying to myself.  

I remember that outcast feeling to this day. My embarrassing truth?  

I was pilfering money from the dresser top of a neighbor lady who babysat me at her house after school. Her nickels and dimes seemed a pathway to boundless treasures. Candy from the corner store. Popsicles from the ice cream truck. Lollipops at the grocer’s. 

More than such things, however, money seemed to say I mattered. That was my thinking at even age five. I’m intrigued, indeed, how false thinking from my childhood became a plot lesson in the grown-up story of my new mystery, Double the Lies. 

When I suggested that title to my editor at Tyndale House, she loved it immediately. We hadn’t yet agreed on the entire plot. But we both felt certain that a mystery involving lies could take the story to places every soul has gone — into the mire of deceit – and then shine a light on how to climb our way out. 

I’ve been on that journey since I grew up with the most hurtful lie of my childhood, Jim Crow segregation. “Colored people” like me were declared the awful worst. “WHITES ONLY ALLOWED” shouted society’s signs and, despite my young age, I could read them. 

To borrow a religious term, I was baptized into the fire of this fight, trying to prove myself greater than such awful untruth – while my wise parents invited me to come clean first about my own. I sobbed, in fact, when I finally broke down and confessed my childish wrongdoing.  

My parents forgave me, and so did God. Our neighbor lady, too. I became so leery of lying that, as a writer, I seized honesty as my hallmark, looking for ways to tell tough truths.  

Thus, I didn’t run when the plot of Double the Lies swung to interracial romance, an illegal notion in the 1920s where Annalee’s story takes place. A surprise, it tests my young Black detective because she already has promised her heart to another. Would she give in to the risky temptation? Or tell the truth that she was flattered and attracted by it — a distraction she had to confront to solve the real crime. 

William Shakespeare had a phrase for such courage: “O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!” He wrote that for his popular wartime play, Henry IV, Part I, where his brave hero Hotspur declares his command over Satan by simply shaming him. How? By speaking truth. 

What a powerful way, in our age, to beat back conspiracy theories and falsehoods. Yet the best tactic to conquer a lie? 

Lift up the One who is our Truth. In Jesus’ own words: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). 

My little detective learns that the hard way. But finally, she prays a humble prayer, simply asking God for help. As she wonders, maybe those “are the prayers God answers first. Honest ones.”  

Soon, indeed, she’s free to solve the mystery. If her journey sounds intriguing, I invite you to dive into her story to see what you discover – perhaps about yourself. 

Meantime, may we never doubt that the whole truth is never far. His name is Christ  — and His truth keeps marching on. That sounds like a battle song, and maybe it is. More than all, however, His truth marches us toward His forgiving, accepting love. For me. For you. For all. 

—

Double the Lies from award-winning author Patricia Raybon is featured in the February issue of Woman’s World Magazine, and was lauded by Publishers Weekly as a “fast-moving mystery” whose “mix of history and intrigue will captivate readers.” The novel is “stirring, fast-paced and powerful,” says Foreword Reviews, It follows All That Is Secret, the 2022 Christy Award-winning debut of the Annalee Spain Mystery series from Tyndale House.

Order your copy today . . . and leave a comment below for a chance to WIN one of 5 copies*!

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

 

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

*Giveaway open until 2/13/23 at 11:59 pm central to US addresses only. Winners will be notified via email. Please allow 4-6 weeks for delivery.

God’s Presence Is Not Always a Feeling

by

There were 25,000 people around me, all of us thronged into an Atlanta arena for a young adults conference, everyone singing as loud as we possibly could. At least, that’s how it sounded. I couldn’t decipher who was singing and who wasn’t – all I knew was thousands of voices were praising God together and I’d never heard anything like it before. I closed my eyes and stopped singing, trying to take in the sound. It was an enormous sound; it thundered around me, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. It sounded like what heaven might someday be like. I felt small, and in awe. Despite being surrounded by people, I felt intimately acquainted with the God of the universe. 

A few days later, I was back in my small church in Dundas, Ontario. There were seventy-four people around me. Someone always counts who comes, because we’re a small enough church to track numbers each week. I was no longer in an arena, but a small stone church building that’s almost 200 years old. Our sound system isn’t state-of-the-art, and sometimes the speakers crackle, but as we sang in worship that morning — just those seventy-four voices  — I could feel God with me.

I felt God’s presence tangibly, powerfully, and profoundly — both in an arena in Atlanta and in my small church in Ontario. God’s presence isn’t available only in big conferences, but also in a small and faithful congregation who come week after week.

But what about when you can’t feel God’s presence? Maybe you’ve been to both the glamorous conference and the small church building; maybe you’ve collapsed on your knees on your apartment floor or you’ve hidden yourself in your bedroom closet; maybe you’ve prayed faithfully with a group of friends or gone to Bible study week after week — and maybe even in all of that, you haven’t felt the presence of God.

It can be easy to believe that when we can’t feel His presence, God is no longer with us. 

But God’s presence is not always a feeling. 

God’s presence is not dictated or always detected by our feelings, our fickle hearts, or our moods. His presence is not mandated by how loud the music is at our church service or if the sound equipment is top-notch. 

I am thankful — deeply and genuinely grateful — every time God gives me the grace of feeling His presence. 

But my feelings don’t control whether or not God is with me. His presence is constant. He is with me even when I don’t acknowledge Him, even when I don’t fall on my face in gratitude for Him. He is within me and beside me. He promised us He’s Emmanuel — God with us. He came to dwell as close as anyone possibly could, in the womb of a woman, and then He gave us His Spirit to live within us. 

“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?” The psalmist once uttered these words, and you and I could utter the same.

You cannot escape from God’s presence — in the highest heights or the lowest depths — even if you can’t feel a thing. C.S Lewis once wrote, “God’s presence is not the same as the feeling of God’s presence and He may be doing most for us when we think He is doing least.” 

When you can’t “feel” His presence, perhaps God is inviting you into something else: trust.

To trust that no matter your feelings, God is present. 

To trust that no matter what comes, God is near. 

To trust that no matter where or how you worship, God is worthy of it all.

 

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

Stop and Ask God for Help

by

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

by

“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

by

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

by

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

by

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!)

by

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

by

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

by

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?

by

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

by

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