Single and Not Sorry This Holiday Season

Single and Not Sorry This Holiday Season

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Obviously, I’m not trying to win the approval of people, but of God. If pleasing people were my goal, I would not be Christ’s servant.
Galatians 1:10 (NLT) 

Look straight ahead and fix your eyes on what lies before you. Mark out a straight path for your feet; stay on the safe path. Don’t get sidetracked; keep your feet from following evil.
Proverbs 4:25-27 (NLT) 

We’re always comparing. They have more spending money than we do, but we have a cozier home. This friend has a fast-paced, highly successful career, and we enjoy our job just fine but work mostly for the weekend. That neighbor seems unattainably confident in their skin, and we spent last night researching different diets.

Comparison seems to be ingrained in us, and it’s only harder when you’re single.

Unfortunately, if we get into this mode of thinking, it also makes the holiday season even more difficult. We go to a party and are asked approximately 32 questions about our dating life, we catch up with friends we haven’t seen in a while and they are newly dating or engaged, and we compare our singleness to everyone around us who is in a seemingly happy and joyous relationship. We look at our lives – and even though they are filled with beautiful things big and small- the lack of a relationship causes us to feel like we come up short. These passages exhort us to cease the comparison game, and instead focus on our own path that God is leading us down.  

If you are single: Part of comparison is the evaluation of if there is enough to go around – enough success, enough happiness, enough love. But just because others around you are in flourishing romantic relationships and solid marriages does not mean that opportunity is gone for you. Just because it is for them doesn’t mean it’s not for you. Theodore Roosevelt once said comparison is the thief of joy, and that rings true when you assume that others’ relationship success means there is no hope for you. The idea that when someone else finds happiness in a relationship, your chance at this same happiness is diminished is simply untrue. Besides, the joy that is there for you today, on your path, is devalued when you peek at a path not meant for you.

Instead, if you actively work to focus your eyes ahead on the path God has laid out for you, you will find joy untethered from comparison. God knows your desires and your heart, and He has laid out a path just for you. During the holidays, it’s okay to invite other people to not ask you about dating, to reject bad advice, and to have to take a break from the small talk when you need to refocus and remind yourself of the goodness of your life in the here and now. You are single, but you don’t have to be sorry.  

If you aren’t single: It’s hard not to ask the single people in your life about dating – it’s so exciting! But just like your relationship with your significant other is a facet of your beautiful and complex life, the same is true for those of us who are single. As you gather with friends and family this holiday season, consider asking after other elements of your single friends’ lives: their job, their pet, their favorite kind of cheese. . . We’d welcome the opportunity to bond with you over our similarities, not what often feels to us like our biggest difference: our relationship status. It will be such an encouragement to your single friends when the emphasis isn’t placed on their single life but on who they are as a person.

None of us were created as a fragment, looking for its matching piece in the heart of a significant other. Psalm 139 says that we were “skillfully formed” (v.15) by God and “in Your book were written all the days that were ordained for me” (v. 16). God, your Father, created you unique and distinct from 8 billion other people on earth. And the same is true for your single friends. Many of us would love that reminder from a friend or family member during this season. 

The bottom line is: our God is not a God of lack but abundance. Comparison tempts us to feel that we are lacking, but God reminds us that He has a path full of richness and joy laid just for you. During this holiday season, let’s all pursue intentionality as we flee from the comparison trap and love one another with the love of God Himself. 

 

Opinions about single life — especially Christian single life — are plentiful and wide-ranging. In a social world that idolizes romantic relationships, single people can easily feel incomplete or less than. Single and Not Sorry: 90 Devotions of Real Encouragement for Right Now provides readers with inspiration from God’s Word about living according to God’s trustworthy purpose and plan regardless of their relationship status. Our true value is found in Christ alone — and through this book, readers will be able to confidently appreciate and enjoy exactly where they are in life. Single and Not Sorry releases in February 2023 – preorder your copy today!

 

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How Wrestling with Your Longings Can Lead You to Worship

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I haven’t played tennis since 1998. My team advanced to the playoffs in the fall of my senior year of high school. When we lost, I put my racket away and never really played again.

Years went by and I didn’t think about the sport very much. There was a part of me that always wanted to get back on the court, but children, work, or time constraints always got in the way. It’s easy to put my desires on the back burner of everyone else’s needs. Which, honestly, isn’t always a bad thing. I have been in a long season of raising babies to teenagers and putting some of my longings on hold was my way of loving them. The bad thing is that I lost touch with my desires completely.

I wrestle with my longings. Do my desires matter? How much space should they take up? Doesn’t love always mean dying to myself? Because I didn’t have good answers to all these questions, I put my longings to sleep. I didn’t pay much attention to them. But longings always tell the truth. They don’t tell me what to do, they tell me what I want. Longings left in isolation leave the heart lonely.

I had every excuse to not sign up for lessons or take a clinic. It took my thirteen year old asking to try tennis for me to reach out to a tennis coach that I know, coach Mercedes.

I dug through my old tennis bag on the top shelf of the garage. The strings on my racket were loose, the paint chipped, and the handle grip was worn down. But, when I held the racket it felt so familiar, like shaking hands with an old friend. I was nervous to play again. At one point in my life, I was actually good. I had the right form, an ace serve, a killer backhand, and a cute skirt. But, twenty-some years later, I might not be able to even rally.

I showed up as the fog floated up from the fenced in tennis courts at Los Posas park. I volleyed, swung, and struggled to find my footing. I moved slower than I did in 1998. My step had less zest, but my seasoned legs could still sprint from the backline to the net. I wasn’t good, but I was so happy.

Coach Mercedes says she experiences God on the tennis court. I’m not sure I can totally relate to that. Tennis is a sport. It is exercise and score keeping.

Throughout the book of Psalms the writers worship God through instruments, their voices, and even their lament. In Psalm 33, the psalmist worships God through a lyre (harp). Play the strings skillfully, he says. I think this is what Coach Mercedes means when she says God is on a tennis court. I think she’s talking about worship. And the more and more I get back on the court, I know what she means.

I can raise my racket like I am raising my hands in praise. I can lob a tennis ball over my opponent the same way my voice lifts to the cathedral ceilings. Everything I do is worship if I let it be.

I can slice potatoes for the soup as an act of worship.
I can call a friend who is struggling as an act of worship.
I can fold the laundry as an act of worship.
I can play tennis as an act of worship.

I can also minimize almost everything that I do. I can look at my revived love for tennis as silly or a waste of time. But I can also look at it as worship. When I understand that all I do is worship then the bounce of the ball off of the strings is a song. The perfect placement of a ball is engaging in a choir of praise. I don’t just play because it’s fun or good to move my body, although both are true. I play because God gave me a love for the game and as I play, I bring Him glory. When I play, I feel alive.

It’s like Ireneaus said, “The glory of God is man fully alive.”

When we give God glory, we experience His love. We are surrounded by it. Our longings lead us to love.

What is more loving than tennis? Even when I lose, I get to call out, “love!”  Every game, every match, every set starts with a the bounce of the ball and the words sung out — “Love all!”

 

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It’s Time to Take off the Cloak of Self-Hatred and Shame

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“Lose weight, then we’ll talk.”

That was exactly what the doctor said twelve years ago when I went into his office to get help with my back pain.

What I wanted to say was, “Wow, what a great idea. Why have I never thought about that?”

Instead, I just added all the shame, feelings of failure, and hopelessness to the already hefty burden of stigma I carried around with my excess weight.

And I left. Not getting help for my back. Not getting help with weight loss. Not getting help for any of the things that were causing me so much pain and heartbreak.

All those feelings of defeat piled on. Negative thoughts rolled through my mind: “Even though I’ve tried everything, maybe I just don’t trust God enough. Maybe I’m just a weak person and a bad representation of Christ. Maybe I have no right to write or teach because of this area of my life I cannot get under control.”

For years (my whole life really), I have lived in this cycle of shame — not just from doctors, but from the church.

Medical professionals would tell me if I just tried harder, I could improve my physical health. And the church would let me know if I just believed harder, I could improve my spiritual health by not being fat.

And it made me not want to be in either place — the doctor’s office or the church.

But after trying and failing so many times, I realized I couldn’t just give up. I was in pain. And even though making and waiting for a doctor’s appointment to talk about my weight gave me huge anxiety, I knew I had to do it. Because when you’re desperate, you risk the shame.

I injured my back about twenty-five years ago while helping my parents move and it’s never been the same since. I tried physical therapy, injections, and patches, but the pain still persisted. And while I know that getting out and walking would help me lose weight so that my back wouldn’t hurt as much, walking hurts my back. It just felt like the most painful cycle of frustration ever.

So I made an appointment with a new doctor to talk about my weight. I’m long over believing that losing weight will fix everything, but I do know from experience that losing even ten pounds helps my back feel so much better. And while I’ve been able to lose the weight at times? Maintaining it has been impossible.

My new doctor asked me some questions, and we discussed my medical history. I told her all about what I’ve done before and how much I’ve struggled historically with all of this. I even mentioned that every other doctor has let me know that if only I would work harder, try more, and “not be so lazy” (direct quote) I could lose the weight.

So I waited for the lecture. Again.

She looked at my chart, pulled in her breath, and then looked me in the eye. “Kathi, I do not for one minute believe that you have not tried hard enough.”

And … I started bawling.

For the first time, someone in authority, whether it was a doctor, pastor, teacher, coach — someone, anyone — recognized my desire and my effort, and didn’t blame me for not trying hard enough.

Friends, I cannot tell you what that grace has done for me. It has changed my life and my outlook. That doctor has given me a hope that I have never truly experienced before.

Someone not only believes me, but she believes in me.

And friends? That changes everything.

In the past, I felt like I had to show up properly ashamed of who I am in order to let others know that I get it. I am a failure. You don’t need to tell me. I know before you do.

But that is not the way Christ wants us to show up.

Romans 5:5 says, “And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (NIV).

As a Christ follower, hope is where we are to put our hearts — not shame.

And even though nothing has changed significantly for me physically yet, the act of taking off this cloak of self-hatred for not looking like everyone else, not being like everyone else? I’m already feeling a lot lighter. Not physically, but emotionally and spiritually.

There are physical, medical reasons why my weight is my biggest struggle.

Not laziness.

Not giving up.

Not a lack of faith.

I would never shame anyone for their medical condition, and now, after 55 years, I refuse to shame myself for another day because of mine.

Yes, there are things I need to do. That is true with any physical issue. But I refuse to see myself or believe that God sees me as less than because of this particular struggle.

Could you use some hope for an area of shame in your life too? I’m praying the Holy Spirit will speak loving truths to your heart.

Want to learn more about shame-free living? Click here to check out Kathi’s book, An Abundant Place.

 

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Hope to Hold onto When the Night Is Long

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I hit play and suddenly the familiar voices of characters I’ve come to love are speaking, shouting, whispering in my ears. The story rises and falls. With each turn, at every “there’s no way out” moment, my heartbeat quickens, my eyes widen, and I wonder what will come next. I’m frozen, holding my breath until they breathe a sigh of relief and make it to the other side of the cliff, until they’re safely through the unknown, until the page turns.

Chapter after chapter, my investment in the story increases. Book after book in the series, I’m drawn in deeper. When I reach the end of the very last sentence, a sigh escapes even as a smile spreads across my face.

There were twists I never saw coming, moments I anticipated that didn’t come to fruition, characters who betrayed, and many tears shed along the way. Death had something to say and loss colored the pages. But line by line and page by page, a grand story was woven together, culminating in an ending that wasn’t quite what I expected and yet was absolutely as it should be. It was right and it was good and it was beautiful.

The series found its way into my life at the very beginning of the pandemic, in the confusing unknown of days quietly spent locked down. Every evening, my roommate and I sat on the couch, coloring books and embroidery in hand, as the author read another twenty pages or so. We were surrounded by the unknown even while stuck at home, but night after night we were swept up in a story with an undercurrent of hope and joy, love and light.

This fall, after the approximately fifty-seventh time I raved about the fantastic writing and the characters that felt like friends, two real-life friends picked up the first book. Of course, I promptly started the series over, ready for a refresh and determined not to accidentally mention any spoilers. Before long, I once again sat on the edge of my seat, nervous over how they’d make it through to the next chapter.

At one particular moment, I interrupted the audiobook narrator and reminded my racing heart, “It’s going to be okay. You know how the story ends.” And then I froze, this time in wonder and relief, because while it’s true as I re-read a fictional story, the deeper truth is that Scripture offers us the very same hope, the assurance that come what may, it’s going to be okay.

Oh, it won’t be neat and tidy, predictable and tied with a Hallmark movie bow, but as Cory Asbury says, “The story isn’t over if the story isn’t good.”

What a gift for these right now days.
What a promise in the waves.
What a hope to cling to when the night is long.

We may not know what the next chapter will look like or how we’re going to make it, but we can be confident that ours is a God who does indeed bring us through the fire and the flood. There will be twists and turns along the way, but a way will most surely be made. The end has been determined: God will walk us all the way Home.

Revelation 21:3-6 says, “ ‘Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.’ And the one sitting on the throne said, ‘Look, I am making everything new!’ And then he said to me, ‘Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.’ And he also said, ‘It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega—the Beginning and the End. To all who are thirsty I will give freely from the springs of the water of life.’ ”

May we remember, here in these short December days when the night creeps closer, the words we’re quick to proclaim on a bright spring morning: Sunday is coming! He is risen indeed.

Even when the darkness is surrounding and suffocating, God hasn’t gone anywhere.⁣ Even in the seasons that feel like one long Good Friday, the story beneath the story is one of hope. Even when we cannot see a way, God will not turn away. He is trustworthy and true, and the One who is the end knows exactly how the story ends. The Word gets the final word, and it’s guaranteed to be good.

As one of the characters so perfectly says near the end of the series, when they’ve made it through the seemingly impossible, “Dawn has conquered dark since the Maker spoke the world. The night is deep, but light runs deeper.”

Our hope is secure. The promise is sure. The weary world has reason to rejoice, for the story is in good hands. Dawn is already on the way.⁣

We’re going to be okay. We know how the story ends.

For more encouragement in the messy middle, pick up a copy of Kaitlyn’s book. Even If Not will help you shift from the suspicion that God isn’t kind or present to the truth found in Scripture: on every single page of the story, He is with us and working all things for good.

 

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Make It Hard to Be Offended

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I have a confession to make. When I was new to conversations on race and culture, I got upset a lot . . . like a lot a lot.

There was the time a random woman behind me in the check out lane at the grocery store said I looked beautiful, like “exotic beautiful,” and though I had a smile plastered on my face as I said, “thank you,” inwardly I was fuming. Who does she think she is, calling me exotic, I thought to myself. There have been the countless times people have asked me, “What are you exactly?” and “Where are you from?” — questions that made me feel like a foreigner and a misfit. One time, a guy called me “Pocahontas,” and he meant it as a compliment-insult. Each time an incident like this occurred, I’d say very little in the moment, but then I’d go home and vent to my husband, or to my friends, or (as is often the case when you insult a writer), I’d write those people into infamy.

Lord, forgive me.

I’d like to say that those days are far behind me. It’s not that I don’t ever get offended anymore. I do. But I’ve also learned a valuable lesson over the years: it’s better to forgive than to fume.

We live in a day and age in which getting offended at every slight is in vogue. The question about race that rubbed you the wrong way, the compliment about your hair or skin color or an article of clothing gone wrong, the off-handed comment about your ethnic heritage or culture that felt like a slap in the face. Instead of either letting the words slide off, or perhaps gently leaning in to ask for clarity, we dismiss, disengage, and dishonor.

I’ve come to see that there is no path for healing for the person who turns everything into a fight (and that includes me).

Worse, we’ve conditioned ourselves to ascribe motive to people’s words and actions. Someone didn’t just make a comment on culture or race or justice that we disagree with. Now we’ve decided that they said what they said because they’re an insensitive person or because they’re privileged or even, perhaps, because they’re trying to flex their power over us. Then we find out a week, or a month, or a year later that the person we thought was a full-blown racist was, in fact, just coming from a different angle, or that we misheard them, or perhaps we just didn’t have a category to understand what they were saying, but now we do. Reality is rarely what we think it is.

In race conversations, we need to forgive people, because God forgives us. But I want to take that even a step further. I have made it my goal in life to not be easily offended, because God isn’t easily offended with me.

I love how it states in Colossians 3:13: “Bear with one another and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” As Christians, we are called to forgive. And, if it’s hard for us to forgive, then we haven’t understood the full scope of God’s forgiveness toward us. Every day of our lives, we sin against God, and yet He’s quick to show us mercy and grace. God doesn’t burn us, or cancel us, or shame us. God’s treatment of us is the model for how we are to treat one another.

That’s not to say that we turn a blind eye on real-world problems or become insensitive to the hurting in the world. But we do have the power to not be bothered by people’s questions and comments. We have the power to not assume motive or intent. Because we have the Holy Spirit living and breathing within us, we have been given the power to be unoffendable.

Here’s what this could look like in everyday scenarios:

  • Did a family member make an off-hand comment about another person’s culture or ethnic community? You might feel ready to bring out your pitchfork. Instead, try a gentle approach. Respond with something simple, such as, “Hmm, that’s an interesting perspective. Could you tell me more?” If you’re not willing to truly listen to them and make them feel heard, don’t address their comment at all.
  • Did someone on the internet post about a race-related issue that just sent your nerves firing? Instead of typing a comment that would most likely escalate the tension, stop and pray for them (and yourself). Consider whether it’s possible for you to just keep scrolling and move on with your day. Remember, you don’t need to pick fights with everyone you disagree with. If you feel strongly about what the person has said, DM them and communicate a humble, respectful desire for dialogue, if they’re open to it. If you don’t know the person, why are you even trying to engage them in the first place?
  • Did someone at work, at church, or in your community make a comment about you that feels like a dig on your physical appearance, ethnic heritage, or cultural way of life? If so, is it possible for you to just laugh it off? Humor is a wonderful way to brush off perceived slights. Could you choose to respond with a genuine smile and a kind reply that invites them to get as excited about your culture as you are? As the old saying goes, kill them with kindness.

Christians should be the most forgiving people on the face of this planet, because we know best what it means to be forgiven. When it comes to race conversations, may the world know we are Christians by our love, our grace, and our inability to be easily offended. Meeting people where they’re at is the healthy, Christ-centered way forward.

 

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Nothing Will Be Impossible for God

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At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!”

And Mary said:

“My soul glorifies the Lord
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has been mindful
    of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
    holy is his name.
His mercy extends to those who fear him,
    from generation to generation.
He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
    he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
He has brought down rulers from their thrones
    but has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things
    but has sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
    remembering to be merciful
to Abraham and his descendants forever,
    just as he promised our ancestors.”

Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months and then returned home.
Luke 1:39-56 (NIV)

Elizabeth sat on the ground, heels tucked beneath her, and kneaded the dough in the bowl in front of her. A strand of gray hair slipped from beneath her head covering and clung to the perspiration running down her temple. After a moment she grimaced, sat up straight, and rubbed her aching lower back. Then she placed one hand under her heavy abdomen to support it and struggled to her feet.

Slowly, she shuffled over to a bench in a shady corner of the yard and plopped down. She closed her eyes for a moment and laid one hand tenderly across her stomach.

“Oooh!” she cried out in surprise, her eyes flying open as the baby suddenly kicked. The old woman patted the place where the tiny foot had struck and she began to laugh. At first she chuckled softly, then louder and louder until tears rolled down her soft and wrinkled cheeks.

When her laughter subsided, she gazed tenderly down at her abdomen, now still and quiet, and shook her head in awe.

How could this be? How could she, Elizabeth, conceive a child in her old age after a lifetime of barrenness?

Elizabeth turned her face to the sky and held her hands to heaven and prayed: “Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever” (Psalm 106:1).

A moment later she walked back across the courtyard, bent to pick up the kneading bowl, and carried it to the beehive-shaped oven. The fire she began earlier that morning had burned down to coals, heating the fragments of pottery that lined the walls of the oven. Expertly, she plucked a portion of dough, rolled it between her palms, flattened it, and then tossed it through the opening where it stuck onto the wall inside. The bread baked quickly. Soon the kneading bowl was empty and a large platter nearby was piled high with fragrant discs of bread.

Elizabeth picked up the platter and gratefully made her way across the yard to the cool interior of her home. A short time later, she sat mending a tear in one of Zechariah’s robes when she heard a familiar voice call out in greeting.

“Elizabeth!”

Her cousin Mary stepped through the door. Immediately the baby in Elizabeth’s womb began to leap for joy and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. She stood and began to prophesy loudly as she crossed the room to Mary.

“Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!” Elizabeth said. “But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her!” (Luke 1:42–45).

Mary’s eyes filled with tears of happiness. She stepped forward and placed one hand on each side of Elizabeth’s abdomen. The baby rolled and kicked at her touch.

Life. Elizabeth’s long-barren womb was filled with miraculous, abundant life. The angel’s words came back to Mary, driving away all doubt and fear: “For nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37 ESV).

Mary didn’t understand how she, a virgin, could conceive the child the angel promised. She didn’t know how she would avoid the shame and potentional punishment that accompanied unwed mothers in her culture. Mary had no idea how she would provide for herself and for the child in the long years to come.

But it wasn’t her job to know. It was God’s.

He only asked that she trust Him moment by moment, day by day. Deep inside Mary’s heart, a knot of anxiety and fear un-tangled as she released everything into God’s hands. She took Elizabeth by the hand and led her back to her seat. Then Mary sat on the floor beside her and laid her head against Elizabeth’s knee as tears of relief and surrender flowed down her cheeks. Gently, Elizabeth stroked Mary’s hair, as the young girl lifted her praises to God.

As written by Sherri Gragg in Advent: The Story of Christmas. Connect with Sherri on Instagram and her website.

Advent: The Story of Christmas traces God’s ribbon of redemption – from Eden to Jerusalem – through thirty-one biblical stories. Sherri Gragg’s unique storytelling, infused with cultural accuracy and color, has been described as “Bible stories for adults.”

Her narrative style offers a fresh perspective on the lives of God’s people, both ancient and modern. Advent: The Story of Christmas will enrich personal devotional time during the seasons of Advent and Christmas.

Today marks the second Sunday in the season of Advent, the four weeks leading up to Christmas Day. Join us here at (in)courage each Sunday during these weeks as we share excerpts from this beautiful book, learn more about Jesus, and count down to Christmas, together.

 

God Understands Our Despair and Won’t Leave Us Alone

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Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon — from Mount Mizar.
Psalm 42:5–6 (NIV)

The screaming and crying are high-pitched and unbearable. I don’t understand why my baby has regressed. Why isn’t she going to sleep as easily as before? Is it teething? A growth spurt? A nightmare? Instead of the twelve hours of quiet and rest I used to get, now every night I sit in the hallway outside her closed door, listening to her wail and waiting for her to go back to sleep. My stubbornness and rigidity to stick to the schedule keeps me from going in, but my new-mother heart keeps me seated, unbudging.

I clench my teeth and pound my fists on my thighs. I cover my ears and rock back and forth. I pull my hair. I want it to end. I want to be able to sleep without interruption or worry that she’ll wake up her daddy, who works the swing shift and is barely getting sleep as it is. I want her to get the rest she needs because she’s just a baby. I throw my whys and hows at God, demanding answers and getting silence.

Eventually, the crying mercifully ends, and I leave my post in the hallway. I trudge downstairs, my legs heavy. My eyelids too. But my heart is still racing, and my ears ring even in the quiet. I feel the threads of my sanity unraveling, and I feel imprisoned by despair, by the lack of reprieve, by this part of mothering.

My husband is working. I’m alone. And the thoughts begin:

I just want to sleep — is that too much to ask?

I wish I could disappear into a void where no one needs me.

I want to disappear.

I need to disappear.

I sink deeper and start to wonder how I can do this in the most considerate way, with the least amount of cleanup for my husband when he finds me. Falling asleep in the car with the engine running in the garage sounds enticing, doable.

But as I realize how far I’ve come in my suicidal ideation, I scare myself. My heart beats in my ears as I pick up the phone and send out a mass text in the middle of the night to friends near and far:

Please pray for me. I’m having suicidal thoughts.

Typing out the words brings a flood of shame. The critic is loud in my head, telling me I should be embarrassed, that I hadn’t gone far enough to warrant a call for help. But with each text that comes through from friends saying they’re praying for me, light and fresh air enter the darkness—I’m not alone.

When we’re deep in depression, overwhelmed with life, or stuck in impossible situations, hope feels like wishful thinking. In Psalm 42:5–6, the psalmist urges his soul to hope in God. He’s not chiding himself to feel hope right there in the depths of his despair. He’s saying, “One day — someday — I will praise God again, so soul, hope in Him.” He’s looking to a future deliverance, and he’s certain that God will see to it.

In the meantime, he remembers God from his place of despair. We have the whole of history to look back on and see how God has been faithful. Recounting the truths He’s spoken to us and the ways His presence carried us makes hope substantial. And God Himself understands darkness and death. Christ experienced it in His body on the cross, and so our hope in Him is not like a thin silver lining. Instead, it’s like a thick rope thrown down to lift us out of the pit—to take another step and live another day.

God, thank You for understanding despair and for not being afraid of death. You enter into the darkness and sit with me instead of scolding me and forcing me toward the light. You are gentle in Your care, and You provide a way out — even if it’s not in my timing or in a way I can fathom. Help me to have the long view of “someday” to make me resilient when I can’t see beyond my pain. Amen.

This article was written by Grace P. Cho, as published in Empowered: More of Him for All of You.

Empowered: More of Him for All of You, by Mary Carver, Grace P. Cho, and Anna E. Rendell is designed to incorporate the five major components of our being — physical, mental, emotional, relational, and spiritual. The sixty Scripture passages and devotions invite you to see from different angles how God empowers us, and each day ends with prayer and reflection questions to deepen the learning. Grab a copy now. We pray it blesses you.

But How Are You REALLY Doing Right Now?

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A few weeks ago, I got sick with a fever that wouldn’t go away. On one of the worst nights of my sickness, I slipped away to the couch, so that my tossing and turning wouldn’t wake up my husband.

I tried ibuprofen. I tried Tylenol. I lit a fire in the fireplace. I tried cough drops and hot tea. And finally, the very last thing I tried was prayer.

I am not proud to say that prayer was my last line of offense.

I know I’m not alone in the this. Sometimes, we don’t pray because we overestimate our self-sufficiency. Other times, we undervalue God’s concern to tend to the little things in our lives.

It goes like this:

We tend to grade matters by their seeming significance. Grade-A Matters are things like war, injustice, kids with cancer, and failing marriages. Those things are important and deserve our attention with prayer. But the truth is, even when the world at large is suffering, we’ve all got something going on – right this very second. And it all matters to God, even the things you think are Grade-D Matters.

Know this: God’s hands are large enough to hold all the Grade-D Matters – the late-night fevers, your concerns over your kids’ grades, that plumbing problem in the basement, or the fact that your friend hasn’t returned your texts.

So I have a question for you: How are you really doing right now with “the other stuff” going on in your life, the Grade-D Matters?

When something big happens in our world or our community, we tend to minimize “the other stuff.” We don’t want to burden our friends, or God, by letting them know what else hurts right now.

I’ve said it before, but there have been times in my life when I’ve been reluctant to share with my Bible study girls about an emotional struggle, because someone else was just diagnosed with cancer. I categorized my pain as Grade D, and hers as Grade A.

I’ll tell myself things like, “I shouldn’t be this sad or worried. It could be worse.”

It’s also possible that you’ve been the victim of the “my life is harder than yours” game. It happens when you share your hard, but according to someone else, it isn’t hard enough compared to what they’re going through.

We do ourselves a disservice as sisters when we track each other’s pain along a scale, as if it can be easily categorized along one of those smiley-face charts on a doctor’s office wall.

Here’s the thing: God doesn’t stop caring about your “other stuff” just because other people, this nation, and this world are walking through really big trials. Hard things in other people’s lives do not negate the pain you are carrying personally:

With your finances.
With your baby’s erratic sleep schedule.
With your anxiety.
With the disagreement you had with your dad.
With the pressure of those deadlines.
With your ANYTHING.

Recently, I read Paul’s second letter to his buddy Timothy. He spends most of the letter writing about the big stuff: godlessness in the last days, suffering for the gospel, sound preaching. And then, toward the end, he gives Timothy a final instruction: “Bring the cloak that I left… also the books, and above all the parchments” (2 Timothy 4:13, ESV).

It’s the cloak that gets me.

At this point in the biblical narrative, Paul was an older fellow getting close to dying while locked up in a cold prison — and his only coat was many miles away.

I don’t know why that bit about the cloak is in there, but I do believe that Scripture is God-breathed, and that every word is there for a reason — even the hardest and weirdest parts of the Bible. Every word has something to teach us about God or ourselves.

I wonder if that tiny sentence about the cloak is one way that God is letting us know that the little things matter. Little things like coats, new tires for your car, your class schedule, your job, and a fever that won’t let up.

God is big enough to care about the little things.

Nothing is too big for our Lord. And nothing is too small either.

 

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

3 Lies that Trigger Anxiety & 3 Truths to Set You Free

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One of the first things I encountered when I started having anxiety and panic attacks was the myths and stigma from people of faith.

I was a mom and had never experienced severe anxiety before. I was really shy about this taboo subject of mental health. I am an encourager by nature, serving as a Bible teacher and leader in church ministries. I didn’t want other people to think there was something wrong with my faith, but unfortunately, those were some of the first responses that I got.

Maybe you’re not praying enough?
Maybe there’s a hidden sin you’re not addressing?
Maybe you’re not reading the Bible enough or trusting God enough?

Although they were well-meaning, these words hurt me.

Do you identify with any of these questions of doubt? Have you ever felt stuck in a cycle of worry, stress, or anxiety? It’s easy to feel so isolated. But, we are not alone. God is with us! And rather than judge each other, we can encourage each other.

While researching what both Scripture and science had to say about anxiety, I discovered that many people were grossly misinformed about anxiety.

Today, I want to share the three biggest lies I encountered and three powerful truths that helped me let go of guilt and shame. I know these will encourage you too! So, pour yourself a cup of tea as you soak in the goodness for your soul!

MYTH #1: Jesus commanded us not to worry, so if you worry, you are sinning.
TRUTH #1: Jesus encourages us not to worry about money.

In Matthew 6:25, Jesus was not issuing a command that makes worry an act of sin. Rather, He is reassuring us with words of encouragement! So that when we do worry, we don’t have to stay worried. Jesus was reminding us that just as our Heavenly Father takes care of the birds and flowers, He will take care of us!

So when you’re buckling under the weight of worry, try this: In a soothing, loving voice, with kindness to yourself, whisper Jesus’ words, “So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself…” (Matthew 6:34 NASB).  Doesn’t it change the whole feel of loving encouragement? So be at peace, sister. God understands why you worry, and He loves you. He is a God of comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles (2 Corinthians 1:4).

MYTH #2: If you don’t have peace or joy, you must not be trusting God enough.
TRUTH #2: Emotional honesty is part of faith, and faith is the intimate act of trusting God with your real self instead of hiding how you feel or trying to do or be more.

Jesus tenderly whispers, “Don’t hide.” He invites us to come, and He promises to give rest to our souls (Matthew 11:28). We’re invited to come to Him weary, confused, numb, anxious, angry, or stressed. Jesus tells us to simply come as we are — imperfectly His.

MYTH #3: If you read God’s Word more, pray more, praise more, give thanks more, you will not struggle with the past.
TRUTH #3: Faith is not emotional amnesia. Faith gives us courage to face the brokenness of life and heal from the losses we’ve suffered.

Jesus Himself obeyed, prayed, praised, and gave thanks perfectly. Yet He suffered emotional trauma, overwhelmed by impending physical and emotional abuse, abandonment and betrayal. (See Mark 14:34-35.) In His human form, Jesus models full dependence on the Father. Jesus entrusts His present pain and His future into God’s loving hands.

When the Apostle Paul encourages us not to be anxious but to pray, give thanks, and present our requests to God (Philippians 4:6-7), he is pointing us to the peace available when we take our problems to God, rather than striving for peace based on our own ability to resolve our struggles.

Therefore friends, whatever you are facing today, just breathe. God knows the truth of your challenges and He loves you unconditionally. God will take care of you.

Preorder Bonnie’s new book, Breathe and then sign up for her FREE Breathe Online Bible Study: 21 Ways to Stress Less and Transform Chaos to Calm to break free from worry, stress, and anxiety in the new year. (Starts January 10 – click here).

 

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

Giving Up Your Bitterness and Praying the Prayer You Don’t Want To

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I had a particularly difficult season in business last year. In a co-worker’s own hurt of perhaps not being admired any longer, listened to, or valued, she became insolent — to the point of saying slanderous and untrue words. She had left the company and had moved on to another one, but the way she kept flame throwing to burn our businesses down felt purposefully mean-spirited. Especially if you thought you were friends!

I have walked through betrayal before, believe me. I know how deep betrayal feels in marriage and I know the work it takes to forgive. But for some reason, this felt different. I knew there wasn’t reconciliation on the other side, I didn’t want it. And she certainly didn’t either. There were too many bridges burned. And so I left it alone. 

Well, sort of . . .

Any time her name came up, I would prickle. I would sometimes even wish she failed in her new endeavor, that the weight of her sin would give her what she was owed. My prayers were more like, “Bring her justice!” And under the guise of Scripture, it felt sort of holy. It didn’t feel like sin. After all, she was in the wrong. 

Every day, I walk on nearby trails for about 5.5 miles, which takes me about an hour and a half. This gives me a lot of time to think. Unfortunately, at the start of one particular walk, I was ruminating on the latest flame hurled over the fence by this same gal. “Relentless! She must be so miserable and…” But my passionate thoughts were interrupted by another thought: Pray for her. 

This was not my leaning, nor was it from my brain (obviously), this was God breaking through.

Pray for HER? Oh, come on!

But speaking of relentless, God wouldn’t let up. I couldn’t enjoy my jazz for autumn playlist. I couldn’t say hi to all my dog friends. This new thought demanded my attention. Fine! I thought, like a toddler fighting over a toy who gets the toy stolen is asked to apologize to the one who stole it. In this scenario, the victim may or may not have given the offender a little bop on the shoulder.  “She stole my firetruck! SO, I had no choice over what I did with my hand!”

Hmmm mmm hmmm, I cleared my throat. And quickly prayed. Lord, umm . . . please help HER today. Be with her. Show her Your presence. Be near to her and her family. 

I started to soften, but was still uncomfortable praying for someone I considered my enemy. And then the voice again, Now bless her.

I pursed my lips. I wanted to say no. My heart was resistant. I paused, buckling under my desire to be obedient more than my desire to bless my adversary. So I prayed, “God would you please bless her. Bless her family, Bless her… business.” That last one was the hardest of all, knowing what she had caused in mine. I exhaled. I realized that in my cloak of holiness, I had been harboring bitterness.

Funny thing, several weeks later, her name came up, and I didn’t have one bad thought about her. I didn’t have anything to say in the conversation, nor did I want to. I wasn’t going to her social media to see what lies she was spewing today. I was released from that heavy weight of vengeance, of retribution, of being the judge. It felt so good.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.
Galatians 5:1 (NIV)

Bitterness is heavy. And you know what else we’re warned against along with bitterness? Slander. 

Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
Ephesians 4:31-32

(Ironically, this is the same verse God used to help me forgive my husband after his affair.)

I was just as guilty as my former coworker in living out of my sin. And God, in His kindness, refused to let me stay in this slavery, this heaviness, anymore. He didn’t do it by changing her, He did it by changing me. He did it gently, but He did it swiftly. And not because I changed my own heart, but because He asked me to pray a prayer of obedience.

I didn’t trust that I would forgive her, but I did trust the One who asked me to forgive. And He was faithful to accomplish that good work inside of me.

This is such good news. We can be free!

 

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

Christmas Will Still Come

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Over the last six weeks, our family hosted and celebrated Thanksgiving, visited and welcomed visiting family, and attended kindergarten/preschool and church Christmas programs. Three of my kids had birthdays (and so did I!) and we hosted parties for each one. I volunteered at my kids’ school. And now in just a few weeks, Christmas Day will both come and go.

Lunches have been packed, meals have been made, baths have been given. Words and glances have been exchanged, laundry was (or wasn’t) done, crumbs and toys and towels have been left on the floor until I pitched a fit.

Life has marched along, way too fast for the beat of this drummer.

And after it all, Christmas will come.

Maybe the last six weeks held joy for you, and maybe they held pain. Perhaps both. Either way, Christmas will come.

Maybe the last six weeks held cleaning, baking and hosting, wrapping, decorating, and movie nights. Maybe the last six weeks have been idyllic and beautiful and storybook. At their happy ending, Christmas will come.

Maybe the last six weeks held hard things. Floods of memories, too many to hold in your heart so you eat, you run, you sleep, you shop — you cope. Waves of disappointment, in family and friends and yourself and though this season is supposed to be full of thankfulness and peace, you felt neither. On a day when you’d rather stay in bed, Christmas will come.

Maybe the last six weeks held busy. Drop-off, pick-up, work. All the everyday that grinds and rubs wrong and blesses all at once. A kid may have thrown up, and you most likely stepped on a bunch of Legos. You held every tiny detail together and juggled too many invisible, unseen, under-appreciated plates. You shopped and wrapped and got dressed for church. Your back ached, and the kids didn’t sleep all night, and family drama ensued, and you’ve been the glue that holds all the moving pieces together. Especially when there just aren’t enough hours in a day, Christmas will come.

Maybe the last six weeks held feelings of loss, of abandonment. Maybe you experienced a parting of ways in a relationship. Maybe you felt as though God was taking (or has taken) things away from you. Maybe you felt as if the holidays couldn’t possibly arrive in your house, in your heart, because you have no room and nothing to give. Even — maybe especially — when you’re running on empty and full of disappointment, Christmas will come.

Christmas came to a peasant girl in first-century Palestine.

Christmas came to a world steeped in sin.

Christmas came to a barn in the middle of the night. Christmas came to a feeding trough.

Christmas is bigger than anything standing in our way because Christmas is Jesus. And Jesus comes to us in all walks, in all times, in all capacities. Jesus comes to us in pain, in joy, in despair and anguish, in everyday apathy, in seasons of wealth and seasons of pennies. He doesn’t diminish our situation or feelings but faithfully meets us right where we are. Whether overwhelmed, underwhelmed, overworked, under-appreciated, over it, under it . . . Jesus arrives to be with us.

Whether we got the pies baked and gifts bought, whether the dust bunnies are thriving or the house is clean, whether our schedules are jam-packed or clear, whether our spirits are bright or our hearts are heavy, Christmas will come. Jesus will come. He is with us already, Immanuel in our everyday.

This article is from the archives and featured in Everyday Faith Magazine.

Did you know DaySpring has a magazine? It’s true! And the brand new winter issue of Everyday Faith just hit newsstands!

From cover to cover, you will find stories and articles to inspire hope, prompt reflection, and encourage you for the upcoming months. There are tear-out prayers to share cards, scannable QR codes for goodies, and exclusive Winter Planning Calendars tucked inside!

You care about your faith — that’s why you’re here today! — and Everyday Faith magazine will help you know and share God’s love in fresh, true, and inspiring ways. Pick up your copy wherever magazines are sold and at DaySpring.com. This article is just one of many featured in Everyday Faith magazine, which, by the way, is perfect for reading on your lunch break, bringing to the school pickup line, or gifting to a friend.

And to help you do just that, we’re giving away FIVE sets of magazines — one for each winner and one for them to give to a friend! Leave a comment telling us to whom you’d gift a copy, and we’ll draw five winners.

Giveaway open to US addresses only, and will close on 12/3/22 at 11:59pm central. 

 

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

If It’s Gonna Get Done, God’s Gonna Have to Do It!

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“I can’t take it anymore, God! Why aren’t you helping me?”

The weight of life squeezed out the last shred of belief that God cared about me. What looked like the end of my faith came in the form of a denial from my insurance company. I’d had noticed some developmental delays in my five-year old child. Once my concerns were confirmed, I sprung into mama bear mode, clawing, roaring and looking for the answers to save my precious cub. I learned about a diagnostic test that would provide the lifeline of information we needed. Yes! All of my tireless hard work was about to pay off.

When the coverage denial came a few weeks later, it felt like a bullet too close to my mama bear heart. I slumped on my kitchen floor, crying out, Why God? I’d prayed fervently for God to move the insurance company to approve that test. God must have seen how hard I’d worked to find a solution. All He had to do was move the insurance assessor to say yes. That disappointment turned into a tipping point in my faith. After years of being what I thought was a good Christian, I was disappointed that God didn’t answer my prayer. I wondered if faith was even worth it.

An uncomfortable a-ha moment surfaced when I realized that I’d been treating God like an employee in my problem-solving instead of letting Him lead. Instead of seeking God first before running around for answers, I figured out what I wanted to do and then I told God what I wanted Him to do.

My prayers were more about expecting God to finish my work instead of stopping to seek His will.

In my effort to control the situation, I lost sight of the power, character, and sovereignty of God. This verse is a powerful reminder that God isn’t like us and He doesn’t work like we do:

“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.”
Isaiah 55:8 (NLT)

Just as the people God spoke to in the above verse believed that following their own path was best, I’d done the same thing. They ended up in a bad place, and I did, too. My efforts to fix my problems didn’t bring me peace, only anxiety, anger, and what looked like the end of my faith. Yet, God’s words in Isaiah 55:8 are not only a declaration of God’s character, but also an invitation for those of us who’ve forgotten how big God truly is.

On that day on my kitchen floor, I uttered a new prayer that signified that I would remember that God was bigger than my biggest problems. It was a solid first step toward remembering that God was in control, and I was not:

“If it’s gonna get done, then God, You’re gonna have to do it.”

Years later, I’d come to realize that this was my first intentional act of surrender. Surrender isn’t a popular topic. Perhaps, because it’s often misunderstood. Surrender doesn’t mean that we’re giving in to hopelessness or defeat. Rather, surrender is giving over what we can’t control to God, who not only knows more than we do, but is bigger than we are and actually has control.

There’s a bonus: When we surrender, God will give us the gift of His peace.

Is there a problem or person that you need to surrender to God? It’s hard to admit that you are powerless, but it’s even harder to live with the fear and frustration of what you can’t control. If you need to take the first step, you can start with another simple Surrender Prayer: God, I can’t. But You can. So, I will let You.

There’s an interesting end to the story of the day I almost walked away from my faith: A few minutes after praying my surrender prayer, my phone rang. It was the administrative assistant from my child’s school who said, “Oh, I’m so glad that I got you. We wanted to let you know that you don’t need your insurance company to pay for your child’s test. There’s a fund at the school that pays for that kind of testing.” I hung up the phone in shock.

Of course, not every prayer is answered so quickly or in accordance with our desired outcome. But, as I reflect on God’s timing in answering that prayer, I believe He was saying to me, “Barb, if it’s gonna get done, I’m going to do it – and I don’t need your help.” In that gracious moment, God wanted me to be clear that He was bigger and more powerful than my biggest problem and I could trust Him.

Surrender doesn’t guarantee that God will answer instantly, nor does it mean that God will behave as you want. It does mean that you can trust God to be faithful, loving and gracious, no matter the outcome.

 

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

The Lord of Our Memory

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“How are you doing after the death of your husband? Do you feel better?” 

I am sitting across from my friend who I haven’t seen in years — and this is the first question she asks me. I pause before I answer . . . and am a little surprised by my own words.  

“The second year is much better than the first,” I say. “I have more good days than bad, and I’ve gotten used to bearing the pain and living with the loss.”  

Somehow, behind the scenes, God started healing me of the terrible loss I suffered, a loss from which I thought I would never recover. Back home, I thought about all the signs of comfort and healing that God has brought into my life.

One of the most striking signs of healing has to do with my memory. In the beginning, after I lost Thomas, my husband, I could not see any photos of him. Tears welled up in my eyes and a sharp, cutting pain — that I could not bear — stabbed through my chest whenever I saw his face in a photo.

But God is faithful. In the months that followed, God used photos on Facebook Memories and Google Timeline to help me express my grief and find an outlet for it. It was a slow progression; one that, at first, just brought pain and reminded me of my longing for my husband’s presence. Then, after some time passed, the photos began evoking a mixture of feelings. There was still a sharp pain, but there was also a string of happy thoughts and thankfulness for these particular memories.

Then, in the second year after his passing, there was a reversal — less pain and more joy — when I remembered those good moments captured in photos. I even started deliberately scrolling through our photo albums, especially when I desperately missed Thomas and our life together.  

In and through this loss, God has shown Himself as the Lord and healer of my memory. I have experienced firsthand His wonderful ability to redeem a devastating loss by healing the emotional pain and setting me free, enabling me to make peace with what happened.

I don’t know what past or current loss you are suffering through right now, friend, but let me encourage you with this wonderful promise for emotional healing:

“You will surely forget your trouble,
recalling it only as waters gone by.
Life will be brighter than noonday,
and darkness will become like morning.”
Job 11:16-17 (NIV)

Amazingly, we find these words in the Book of Job — a book about a righteous man who lived through inexplicable suffering. These words come from the speech of Zophar the Naamathite, one of Job’s friends. Zophar assures Job that if he searches and follows God, God will bring hope, security, and peace to his life. This eventually becomes true in Job’s life when God puts an end to Job’s suffering and bringing comfort, emotional healing, physical healing, and the restoration of Job’s family and fortunes.

We can find more wonderful promises for healing and restoration in Jeremiah 33. Here is one of these promises: “Nevertheless, I will bring health and healing to it; I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security” (Jeremiah 33:6).

The entire chapter focuses on the powerful promise of “again” because, with God, there will always be an “again” in our life. We will, again, hear “the sounds of joy and gladness, the voices of bride and bridegroom, and the voices of those who bring thank offerings to the house of the Lord” (Jeremiah 33:11).

Yes, with God, it is possible to heal through the pain of our past and present troubles. We may continue to remember what happened, but we won’t reel in the feelings of pain and turmoil. We can remember and we can be at peace. God can and will redeem our memory if we ask Him.   

What do you need God to bring into the painful places of your heart and memory? Do you need healing, comfort, joy, peace, gratitude, or restoration?

Invite the Lord of your memory into your dark and painful chambers. Ask for His light and healing touch. There will, again, be good things to fill your desolate places.

Immanuel — God Is with Us

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In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.”

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” Then the angel left her.
Luke 1:26-38 (NIV)

—

For centuries, Mary’s people told the story of a Messiah who would come to save Israel. The promise became a part of the very fabric of Mary’s life. But how could she have ever imagined that God would choose her to be part of His plan for the Messiah?

Mary shook her head in a vain attempt to clear it. Then she stood to walk beneath the olive tree branches as she replayed the morning’s events moment by moment. She was sitting in the courtyard of her home alone, spinning wool into yarn, when a stranger stepped across the threshold to greet her.

“Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you” (Luke 1:28).

With dreadful surety, Mary knew the stranger was no man but a servant of God. She dropped her work and stood to her feet, her legs shaking beneath her in terror. When the angel spoke again, his voice was gentle and full of compassion.

“Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call Him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David, and He will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; His kingdom will never end” (1:30–33).

“How will this be,” she had asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?” (1:34).

“The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God,” the angel explained (1:35).

Mary could only stare at him in stunned silence.

The angel looked at her for a moment and then added earnestly, “Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail” (1:37).

And Mary knew it was true. All her life she had heard the stories of God doing the impossible. Around the hearth on long winter nights, her parents told her how the walls of Jericho fell before Joshua at the sound of the priests’ trumpet blasts. Each Passover as their family reclined around the table feasting on roasted lamb, unleavened bread, and bitter herbs, her parents told the story of how God delivered His people from Egypt. Mary’s God was a God who parted the Red Sea and rained manna from heaven to feed His people. He was a God who led them by cloud and by fire, the great Master of the universe.

Nothing was too hard for God. If God called Mary to serve Him, how could she ever refuse, no matter the cost?

“I am the Lord’s servant,” she said to the angel. “May your word to me be fulfilled” (1:38).

And then the angel was gone.

Mary wandered over to the olive press and stood before the heavy stone wheel, at rest on its stone base. She placed one hand on her stomach where the angel said a miracle was already underway and then bent down to pick up a few stray olives that had missed the crushing weight of the stone.

Would this miracle crush her, crush Joseph, like the tender olives beneath the wheel? Joseph would know the baby was not his. He would divorce her, of course. A scribe would be hired to declare her offense publicly. She and her sweet father would be shamed. What would her parents say when they found out she was carrying a child before she had consummated her marriage to Joseph?

What would she do? Where would she go? No man of any worth would ever marry her. Everyone would know her story, her child’s story.

The other children would call him names.

With terrible finality, Mary saw her cherished future with Joseph swept away. This… would break his kind heart.

Mary knelt beside the olive press, rested her forehead against the rough stone of the base, and turned her heart to the God of the impossible.“I am Your servant,” she whispered through her tears. “May it be to me as You have said.”

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As written by Sherri Gragg in Advent: The Story of Christmas. Connect with Sherri on Instagram and her website.

Advent: The Story of Christmas traces God’s ribbon of redemption – from Eden to Jerusalem – through thirty-one biblical stories. Sherri Gragg’s unique storytelling, infused with cultural accuracy and color, has been described as “Bible stories for adults.”

Her narrative style offers a fresh perspective on the lives of God’s people, both ancient and modern. Advent: The Story of Christmas will enrich personal devotional time during the seasons of Advent and Christmas.

Today marks the first Sunday in the season of Advent, the four weeks leading up to Christmas Day. Join us here at (in)courage each Sunday during these weeks as we share excerpts from this beautiful book, learn more about Jesus, and count down to Christmas, together.

The Heart of Hospitality Is Caring for Our Community

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I’ll never forget 2020 for many obvious reasons—politics, a global pandemic, and schooling my kids at home, just to name a few. But one of the best things I’ll remember is how in the middle of that global pandemic, I was on the receiving end of incredible hospitality without leaving home or inviting anyone into my home.

That autumn, I had my fourth child. There are five years between him and his next oldest sibling, so it had been a while since we’d had a baby. Plus, this time I was pregnant during a pandemic, which was a strange and lonely experience. I went by myself to every doctor appointment and ultrasound. My husband would drop me off at the curb of the clinic but was not allowed to accompany me inside due to COVID restrictions. While I was in labor, every doctor, nurse, and staff member who entered my room wore a mask and full-body PPE so that only their eyes were visible. No visitors were allowed after the baby arrived, neither in our hospital room nor in our home. No family waited to welcome us home from the hospital. There was no family brunch after our baby’s (socially distanced, masked, outdoor) baptism. There were no playdates with friends. No one outside of our household held him for months.

The last pregnancy and birth I would ever experience was so lonely, so scary, and so raw with fear of the unknown and feeling out of control. It was overwhelming. Until the people in my village got down to business to care for our family.

My coworkers at (in)courage arranged a surprise online baby shower. They invited all of our writers to log into a video call that I thought was just our regular team meeting. They even coordinated with my husband and sister to receive, hide, and then bring out the gifts they’d all sent — and also to bring me dessert!

My sister threw me an outdoor “sprinkle,” a mini baby shower. Complete with my few closest family and friends, who all wore masks and gave only air hugs, there were individually packaged treats, personal serving utensils, and only one game, which we played while sitting in our chairs that were placed at least six feet apart. My best friend, who lives in another state, surprised me by driving the eight hours to attend the party!

After our baby was born, friends from my church committee delivered meals to our doorstep every Tuesday for six weeks. My mom did our laundry, washing our clothes that were covered in baby spit-up and kid dirt. My sister texted me every day for weeks, asking for pictures of the baby because she knew I wasn’t getting to show him off enough to the world. (Such a mom thing to think of, right?) Friends and family phoned, emailed, and helped the kids with their schoolwork via video calls, and countless people prayed for us.

I cried with gratitude almost every day. It wasn’t about the actual gifts or acts of service, beautiful and needed and wonderful as they were. It was about the hearts behind them.

The hospitality I was shown by my friends and family was a balm. The care and love we received was absolute hospitality, the likes of which I’d never experienced before. And frankly, it changed my view of hospitality.

Defined as “the friendly reception and treatment of guests or strangers,” hospitality often brings to mind images of parties, dinner around a heaping table, or coffee shared at a kitchen counter. It makes me think of holiday gatherings, family getting together to celebrate birthdays, and cheering on our favorite team with friends (and snacks!) during a football game.

Of course, none of this was possible during that season, and yet hospitality is the best description of what I was so generously given. Because my friends were empowered to be hospitable despite the strange circumstances, I was beautifully loved by my community. And because of their hospitality, when I look back I don’t remember a time of loneliness and fear. I remember a time of friendship, home, and love.

When we love others well, we’re empowered to share hospitality in any way we can, blessing both the giver and the receiver.

Lord, may I give — and receive — generous hospitality. Urge me to go out of my way to bless others, and help me to both offer and accept hospitality in all its forms. Give me eyes to see who needs it, and provide me with the means to be hospitable. Amen.

This article was written by Anna E. Rendell, as published in Empowered: More of Him for All of You.

Finding Meaning — Even While Shopping

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It’s the start of Thanksgiving weekend, and I’m sure many of you are eating leftover turkey sandwiches, doing a little holiday sale shopping, and perhaps decorating your home for Christmas. That is pretty much what we are doing around our house too! Thanksgiving weekend is always one of my favorites. Good food, time for family, and diving into the joy of the Christmas season.

Growing up, my mom and I began this special weekend with a beautiful Thanksgiving meal, followed by shopping early the next morning. She raised me to be a bargain hunter, and the day after Thanksgiving was our main event. We sprawled out on the floor after dinner and pored over the Thanksgiving newspaper and ads, circling items on our wish list like kids with a toy catalog. In those days, stores opened at the before-dawn hour of 6:00 am.

Mom and I would wait in line at Target, Dayton’s, and Kohl’s, and we would choose our first stop based on the free gifts they were handing out at the door. Yes, they used to do that! Over the years we collected snow globes, stuffed animals, lawn chairs, and fleece blankets. Then we would wander the store, standing in lines with our treasures, waiting to check out, giddily thinking about the recipient’s face on Christmas Day when they would open the perfect gift we got them. On the way home, we’d stop at a gas station for hot chocolate and donuts, our hands cold but our hearts warm from spending time together.

Black Friday shopping was a big deal to me, because it meant one-on-one time with my mom. Years later, she admitted to me that she actually hated getting out of bed to stand in lines in the freezing cold, but she did it because I loved it and she loved me.

The great deals we scored were just the icing on the cake.

These days, I take my newspaper (yeah, I still get an actual newspaper) and sit by the fireplace with my daughters. We browse the ads, making piles and lists. . . and then we shop online. Yes, we do! We’ve still got donuts and cocoa in hand, but we don’t have to brave the bitter cold or change out of our pj’s. We still get quality time and fun, all while looking for great deals on meaningful gifts. It is one way I know that we’re starting to welcome the Christmas season.

Black Friday shopping isn’t what it used to be (gone are the days of free gifts in line, and stores waiting until dawn to open), but it can still be fun, helpful to your holiday budget, and meaningful too.

With that in mind, we’re super excited to tell you that EVERYTHING* at Dayspring.com is 35% off with the code FRIDAY!

Beautiful and created with intentional meaning, DaySpring items make amazing gifts for those near and dear to your heart, and serve as a tangible reminder of God’s love for them. And the best part about shopping these deals at DaySpring.com? You can wear your sweatpants, have your hair up in a messy bun, and you don’t have to leave your couch — all while stocking up on lovely, inspirational gifts for your family and friends. Is there any better kind of shopping?!

During this Christmas season, our goal is to point you back to the hope and joy that Jesus’ arrival brings — and DaySpring is here to help as you prepare your heart and home for Christmas too, with Christmas Cards, Gift Bags & Wrap, Decor, Ornaments and Family Activities, each one centered around the birth of Jesus and the joy He brings. 

Here are a few of our favorites:

Create in Me (in)courage DayBrightener
Reg Price: $10.99
After 35% off: $7.14

 

 

Coffee + Jesus Stoneware Mug
Reg Price: $12
After 35% off: $7.80

 

 

Fully Known, Wholly Loved Sweatshirt

Reg Price: $45
After 35% off: $29.25

 

Step into the season with intention, and focus on the arrival of Jesus, prioritizing Him above all else. As you’re shopping for gifts, choose those that can bring an eternal impact to friends and family, planting seeds of His love. Give a gift with a life-giving reminder of God’s love, no matter who you are shopping for this Christmas.

Simply enter FRIDAY at checkout for 35% off these (in)courage favorites AND everything* else at DaySpring.

Whether you are heading to the mall or shopping from your phone, may your 2022 Black Friday be filled with lots of coffee and great deals on meaningful gifts!

Do you have a special Black Friday or Thanksgiving weekend tradition? We’d love to hear about it in the comments!

Listen to this article at the player below, or wherever you stream podcasts.

 

*some exclusions apply: Hosanna Revival Bibles & Willow Tree Items