The World Is Not the Standard for How to Treat People

The World Is Not the Standard for How to Treat People

by

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 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 4:29-32 (NIV)

Paul’s letter to the Ephesians may have been written nearly 2,000 years ago, but it sure is timely and applicable for us today. We live in a culture of shouting, name-calling, and shame blaming. We are quick to accuse and slow to listen. Quick to criticize and make assumptions, and slow to encourage and offer compassion.

When it comes to treating people well, this world is not  the standard we need to fix our eyes on. Politicians and Christian celebrities, neighbors and coworkers and social media influencers are not the role models we need to emulate. We need to look to Jesus. We need to remember how Christ has forgiven us! How He loved the unlovable, how He made space at His table and in His friend group for those who would deny Him, betray Him, and get it all wrong.

We need Jesus. And the world needs Him too. Let’s be women who live and love in a way that points people to the kindness, compassion, and forgiveness of Jesus.

The Relief of Remembering We Can’t Earn God’s Love

by

The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV)

I struggle with perfectionism and the desire to be in control. The two go hand in hand, really.

Work projects? I take pride in executing my work perfectly and being known for doing my job well.

Mothering? It’s hard for me to resist the notion that my kids are my report card, that their behavior is a reflection of my parenting (instead of what it actually is — their behavior).

My home? I never clean as much as I do in the hour before company comes over. I’m like a whirling dervish with a vacuum. It’s not a good look for me.

In a twisted way, there’s something comforting about being in control, about completing tasks perfectly.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but I never really saw my perfectionist and controlling tendencies until I had kids. You know the saying that kids are mirrors? It’s true, and not always in a good way. I began to see my worst habits and most unflattering characteristics making appearances in my miniature me’s, and I wanted to squash the behavior before it could become rooted in their little hearts because I knew the pain it could — and would — bring. So at the slightest hint of my kids trying to behave their way into my heart, to earn my love, or to control their way into perfection, I give them huge hugs and many words of reassurance that there is nothing they can do to earn my love.

There is nothing they can do to earn my love. There is nothing they can do to earn my love. They simply have it. All my love. No matter what. Forever.

And then one day it was like a light bulb went off in my own heart: God says the same thing to us. God’s love isn’t something we earn by doing, by behaving, by controlling or being perfect.

There is nothing we can do to earn God’s love.

There is nothing we can do to earn God’s love.

There is nothing we can do to earn God’s love.

By God’s goodness and grace, He freely offers us His love — no perfect behavior or tally of earnings required. It’s one of the best, most incredible gifts we’re given — and often the hardest to accept.

The world rewards good behavior, and we’re taught from a young age that we need to work hard to earn things, right? God takes all that and turns it upside down.

The verses from Zephaniah illustrate such a beautiful juxtaposition. Empowered is an action word, and yet these verses show God as the one taking action, while our role is fairly passive. God is the one saving us. God is the one rejoicing. God is the one singing. God is the one loving us no matter what. There’s no way we can perfect our way into His heart or earn His love.

We can feel weaker, more desperate, more rock bottom than we’ve ever felt before, and we’re still loved by God.

His love doesn’t depend on us.

I whisper those words to my kids during tantrums, sad moments, and difficult times, reminding them that there is nothing they can do to earn my love; they simply have it forever. I pray we all take in the love we so undeservedly receive.

We are empowered for something we have no power over. And that is the best news ever.

Lord, I am humbled by Your love. Thank You for such a gift. Empower me to accept it, to remember that I cannot earn my way into Your heart, that I cannot control Your love for me. Give me the confidence to live this out in my everyday life. Amen.

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

You Are Not a Trash Can

by

My phone rang with a FaceTime notification and within seconds, I was staring at the faces of two dear friends. One woman had just hung up from an unexpected phone call that provided clarity and also included quite a few careless words. She processed, we listened, and after a while she said:

“Kaitlyn, you’ve been quiet but I can tell something is on your mind. What do you think?”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering just how crazy the answer would sound, but I know these friends and they know me, so I took a deep breath before saying the strange six-word sentence that was in my mind.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said this before,” I began, “but the more you share what was said to you, the more this phrase keeps crossing my mind. Maybe it’s somehow that you need to hear? I don’t know. Anyway, it’s this: You are not a trash can. You can choose to hold the garbage words that were spoken over you and to you — if you want. But also, you do not have to. They were not kind, they were not truthful, and you do not have to hold them.”

I watched the screen and waited. She wiped tears away and then, with a laugh, said I needed to write it out and tell other people, too. We smiled, three friends separated by distance but connected through a screen and the weekly sharing of stories small and ordinary, unexpected and difficult, hopeful and heartbreaking, and everything in between.

I’ll be the first to raise my hand and admit: Community is complicated and messy. It can cut us to the core, making it difficult to trust again, whispering the lie that it’s just not worth the trouble and we’ll be fine on our own. This is a script I know well, a wound I’m intimately familiar with; and based on the not-at-all scientific research I recently did via Instagram, I’m not the only one who struggles with this lie. The responses I got on Instagram were heartbreaking and yet not surprising, echoing years of conversations with friends and also the soundtrack within my own mind.

Many years ago, a trusted friend spoke a single sentence that I’m still intentionally working to untangle and shake off over a decade later. They labeled me unfairly, I accepted the garbage words as truth, and the soundtrack began to play.

“Can you easily remember something specific that was spoken to you a long time ago, whether it be kind or unkind, and do you still frequently think of it today?” I asked on Instagram. 96% said yes. In a follow-up question, the vast majority said the word or phrase that often comes to mind was first spoken over a decade ago.

When I asked, “Is it fair to say someone else’s words repeat like a soundtrack that kept playing long after the conversation ended or the passing remark was made?” 99% answered in the affirmative, saying, “Yes, and it impacts how I show up in the world.”

This would be a wonderful thing — if the script stuck on repeat were loving and thoughtful. Sadly, almost everyone said the words they remember were hurtful and unkind. While it’s a small sampling of a few hundred people, I have a hunch this is true far and wide. We carry careless words with us, often without recognizing that we’ve internalized the script, a quiet hum of “you’re too ___” or “you’re not ___” or “if only you were ___” becoming background noise.

I can’t tell you exactly where the “stop” button is for the soundtrack, but perhaps the first step is to recognize the tune and ask the Lord what is true. You can trust Him to be gentle, kind, and “most careful” with you (Matthew 11:29, 1 Peter 5:7).

I’ve heard this particular script for over a decade, but God is using the very thing that wounded me — words from a friend — to bring about healing. It’s imperfect, to be sure. My friends and I get it wrong sometimes. But through FaceTime calls and patient listening, evening walks and caring questions, sharing regular life and offering kind words, I’ve seen God’s redemption at work.

Our words hold weight. They can wound or encourage, tear down or build up. May we, as Holley Gerth so beautifully says, be friends who only speak words that make souls stronger. May we hold onto the good and kind, as well as the needed and helpful, while recognizing the garbage that isn’t ours to hold. May we not only think but also speak what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy (Philippians 4:8).

I’m sorry if someone’s words hurt you this week. Words can wound, intentional or not. But I want you to know — you don’t have to hold onto every single one. It’s not as easy as tying a bow and tossing out the trash, I know. But maybe today you call a friend or two and let them speak what is actually true. Maybe you laugh and cry. Maybe someone will say a strange, unexpected six-word sentence. Maybe you declare it to be trash day, mentally setting the can at the curb. Who knows, but I’ll say it through a screen again, this time to you. I promise it’s true:

You are not a trash can.

You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.

P.S. We aren’t to ignore or run from conflict—it’s part of being a community. But healthy conflict and helpful correction are not the same as criticism or condemnation.

We don’t often talk about friendship breakups or the wounds that can come from the words of a friend, but if you’ve experienced either, know that you aren’t alone. Chapters 3 and 4 of Kaitlyn’s book Even If Not speak directly to this, offering hope in the heartbreak.

 

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

In Our Darkest Moments, God’s Shalom Protects Us

by

Some memories stay with you forever. I distinctly remember one winter break during my youth. I was fifteen years old, and a blizzard was unleashing its fury over our small Minnesotan suburb, bringing in three feet of snow, and covering everything outside in a layer of white. It was negative ten outside, and I could feel the chill seeping through the edges of the windows. It was a few days before Christmas and I found myself huddled in a corner of my family’s living room, knees to my chest, watching the snow fall. I looked up at the cloudy sky and began to pray, “God, I need your peace.”

My prayer was born of loneliness. I was a tall, gangly Indian American girl living in a non-Indian community, and I had a hard time making friends. When the holidays came around, I wasn’t invited to my classmates’ Christmas parties or skiing outings or just the occasional hangouts with sledding and hot chocolate. Granted, I look back now as an adult woman and think, “No big deal. I didn’t need to go to those parties.” But as a teenage girl, I felt that isolation and social rejection keenly. I hated being a misfit and feeling unwanted.

The more I think about that moment – huddled in the corner of my living room, praying – the more I realize, what I was really asking God for was His protection. Protection from the unkindness of cliques and the unwanted mental battles that come when you feel no one wants to be your friend. Protection from lashing out, from believing lies, or even from returning meanness in kind.

I didn’t think I was really doing anything deeply theological at the time; it was just a cry for help. But what I’ve learned over the years is that God’s true peace, the shalom that He promises us, has a distinctly protective nature to it. When we ask God for His shalom, we are asking for His mighty hand of protection.

Philippians 4:7 tells us, “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” I love the word “guard” in this verse. God’s peace guards us. The Apostle Paul, who wrote the book of Philippians, pictures God’s shalom as a garrison keeping guard over our hearts and minds, protecting us from emotional, mental, and spiritual assaults. God’s peace can protect our inner well-being.

We are all living in the midst of so much heartache and loss. The effects of the pandemic certainly. But I’m also thinking about the everyday mundane pains that tax our hearts and minds and wills. Like the betrayal of a friend, losing a job, broken family relationships, unanswered prayers, a child with a terminal illness, a cruel boss, a cancer diagnosis, an unhappy work environment, the inability to pay the bills, or the death of a spouse.

In our darkest moments, God’s shalom offers us protection. God might not take away the infertility or the sting of betrayal or the grief of losing a family member or financial troubles, but He promises that those of us who trust in Him will have an inner calm in the face of life’s storms.

God is shalom. It is one of His attributes. Deep, true peace is who He is by nature. When we seek Him out, when we come to God on our knees in our living room, in prayer while driving our car, in the whispers of our thoughts as we enter our places of worship on Sundays, or in deep, heaving sobs by someone’s death bed, what we receive is the peace of God’s presence. We receive the peace of who He is, and that peace places a hedge of protection over our hearts, our minds, and our will.

In the midst of difficult seasons, we can pray, “God, protect me with your shalom.” God’s shalom is the promise of wholeness, of being able to flourish – emotionally, mentally, spiritually – even when life doesn’t feel worth living anymore.

God wants to carry you through whatever difficulty you’re facing today. You might not be able to see it now as you wade through the trenches, but someday you’ll be able to look back on this dark time and see the ways He protected you, the ways He opened new doors, and brought you into a place of joy that you couldn’t have ever imagined before.

Someday you’ll be able to look back and see the ways in which you’ve become a different person, for the better; the ways you’re stronger now, more courageous, perhaps even kinder — because you sought out God’s shalom as protection over your life and sat in the refuge of His arms.

May each of us know and rest in the protection of God’s shalom.

 

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

The Energy You Can Bring Into Every Room, for the Rest of Your Life

by

A burst of unexpected laughter came from the bedroom where Dad was propped up on his hospice bed, while he watched Wheel of Fortune with my sister Juliann.

Dad was a huge fan of Wheel of Fortune, which he called the Old People Show due to his belief that the elderly were particularly fond of it.

On this particular evening, Pat Sajak announced the puzzle category: Living Things.

A few correctly-guessed letters were revealed. And now it was anyone’s guess on how to solve the puzzle:

C _ C _ _ S    _ L _ W_ _ S.

The contestants were stumped. But Dad, at age 84 with his cognitive acuity diminished, calmly announced to the TV:

“CACTUS FLOWERS”

This caused my sister to howl with laughter, which I could hear from the kitchen. When she told me what happened, I laughed so hard I cried a little.

I know this is potentially a “you had to be there” moment to understand why this was so funny to us, particularly since we were anticipating the end of Dad’s earthly life. But in those weeks, as Dad’s condition weakened, ridiculous things like “cactus flowers” had a mysterious way of pushing back the clouds of chaos and confusion.

There were dozens of moments like that in Dad’s final weeks on earth, moments that helped us remember that we were not alone in our stories or our grief.

It happened when we opened up old photo albums to find our shared stories in grainy photographs.

It happened when we played some of Dad’s favorite songs like “Peaceful, Easy Feeling” or “You Were Always on My Mind,” and he would strum his trusty air guitar.

It happened when we whispered reassurances to one another about the realness of heaven and the hope of our faith, a faith passed down to us from our parents.

When Dad was placed on hospice, months earlier, we four siblings spaced out our visits so we could cover as many days and nights as possible. But as Dad’s health continued declining, we found ourselves overlapping our visits on purpose.

A few days after the cactus flowers incident, Juliann told me, “I can do this so much better when we are here together.”

I responded, simply, “Me, too.”

One day, I learned a new word that helped me see why that was true.

It happened while I was listening to an audiobook, The Lord is My Courage, on the way to my parents’ house. The book had become my faithful companion on those trips. I loved listening to the book on audio for two reasons. 1) I could feel the energy in the author’s voice. And 2) The author, K.J. Ramsey, is my friend. It brought me comfort to have K.J. as a “passenger” in my car during the hardest season of my life.

That day, K.J. uttered a word that illuminated something for me. The word: “co-regulation.” I had heard the term before but hadn’t paid much attention. But now, it was a word that asked for examination.

K.J. helped me understand that co-regulation happens when two autonomic nervous systems slide up next to each other. Co-regulation is how we offer comfort with a warm, responsive presence.

After hearing K.J. talk about co-regulation, I immediately sent her a message on Voxer, telling her what my sister and I had talked about – how we felt better when we were together.

“Is this a kind of sisterly co-regulation?” I asked.

She responded, “That 100 percent is sisterly co-regulation!”

For the next several days, I paid attention to the palpable difference when I was in the presence of a co-regulator. Our family even joked about getting T-shirts with the word “Co-Regulator” on the front.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that this revelation was life-changing for me, because it taught me that this – this! – is the energy I can bring into a room, any room, for the rest of my life.

I could come into a room not as a fixer, advice-giver, critic, or anything other than a person who offers safe harbor to another soul.

This is the way of Christ, who divinely embodies co-regulation. He is the warm and responsive presence who companions us in our storms. He is the Comforter who brings calm to our chaos.

Jesus also calls us to co-regulate with one another. Paul writes that we are to “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2, ESV). The word burden refers to a load that a person couldn’t carry alone. Co-regulating not only lightens the load for others, it also serves to “fulfill the law of Christ.”

We co-regulate by praying, showing up with food, and being comfortable with someone else’s need for silence. We co-regulate through a listening ear, a meaningful conversation, a hearty laugh, or an inside joke about Wheel of Fortune.

It’s been several weeks now since Dad was promoted to glory. I wonder often how Jesus was a co-regulating influence for Dad as he moved from this life to the next. I also have become more aware of the co-regulating influences in my life, and how I want to be the kind of person who offers that gift to others.

We don’t have to complicate it. Sometimes co-regulation takes the form of a text message, like the one I sent to my sister on an especially hard day. The text held two simple words that I knew would make her smile:

“Cactus flowers.”

Written in honor of one of the kindest co-regulators I’ve ever known, my dad, John Philip Dukes, October 25, 1937—September 4, 2022.

 

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

If You’re Tempted to Give Up on People, Read This

by

I can’t believe she said/did/believes that.
The pain is too much.
The divide between us is too wide.
We’ll never see eye to eye.
They don’t understand me.
I’m tired of arguing.
We have nothing in common.
I haven’t walked in their shoes, and they haven’t walked in mine.
They aren’t willing to try.
This is too hard.
I don’t know what to say or where to start.
I’m not equipped to build that friendship.
It’s impossible to repair this relationship.
I’m too hurt to move forward.

Have you ever had thoughts like one (or all) of these? Maybe you’ve even said something like this out loud? If so, you’re not alone. Being human is hard. Being in relationships with other humans is even harder. And it just seems to be getting more complicated every day.

Sometimes the unspoken tensions between us make it difficult to breathe. The tiny fractures. Silent assumptions. Fresh wounds or decades of scars. A widening divide between sisters and brothers, husbands and wives, neighbors, coworkers, college roommates, online acquaintances, best of friends, and could-be friends. Do you feel it? Do you know how to move through it?

We each come to the kitchen table, the bus stop, the office coffeepot, or the church potluck with our own gifts and our own junk. We carry the weight of past hurts, strong opinions, and well-founded fears. We also carry with us our unique and delightful differences. We show up to boardrooms and living rooms with our distinct languages and cultures, personality types and perspectives, experiences and convictions.

Both the beautiful and the broken parts of our stories can make connecting with others challenging — or sometimes infuriating, disheartening, or just plain impossible.

Have you felt this way? When it comes to difficult people, have you wanted to throw in the towel or build an impenetrable wall around your heart? Have you tried to avoid eye contact in Costco when you see that friend who is forever wanting to debate hot-button issues, or have you sent a phone call straight to voicemail because the risk of being manipulated or misunderstood again is just too much? Have you longed to be seen and accepted for who you are, but others just seem to want you to be someone you’re not? If your answer to any of these questions is yes, you’re in the right place, friend.

Your sisters at (in)courage know what it’s like to feel frustrated in friendships. To feel fed up with the complexity of relationships in today’s culture. We know what it’s like to lose confidence in humanity while still clinging to a wisp of hope in the God who holds us all. We know what it’s like to get it all wrong, to face our own failings, and to see Jesus meet us in our mess anyway.

Now more than ever, relationships feel anything but straightforward. What if taking the next step in your messy or complex relationship looked like just taking a seat?

For years, the writers of (in)courage have been sitting down together, virtually and in person, to wrestle through what it looks like to delight in our differences rather than ignore or abhor them. We’ve done the hard work of loving one another through disagreements and learning to live in the discomfort that naturally comes with being a bunch of beautifully imperfect, wildly distinct women. We are not flawless experts but battle-worn survivors who have seen the goodness of God in seemingly insurmountable situations; we’re here to tell you about our heartaches and mistakes and hope in the one true God who hasn’t given up on us.

How would our hearts change if we set aside arguing in comment threads and sat next to one another instead? How might our world change if we would all agree to be people who both celebrate and weep with our friends, coworkers, and neighbors before ever trying to convince, correct, or lobby our agendas?

Loving others isn’t easy. Jesus never said it would be. But He did call us to do it, and therefore we know it will be worth it. “So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples” (John 13:34–35 NLT).

And perhaps this love begins by just acknowledging the tension we feel and sitting in that tension together.

Meet our new book, Come Sit with Me: How to Delight in Differences, Love through Disagreements, and Live with Discomfort. Isn’t that the best title?! In this brand-new book, 26 of our (in)courage writers help you navigate tough relational tensions by revealing their own hard-fought, grace-filled learning moments. We show you how to:

– delight in your differences
– honor and value others even when you disagree
– connect before you correct
– trust that God is working even when people disappoint you
– live and love like Jesus by serving others.

Whether you’re in the middle of a conflict without resolution or wondering how to enter into a friend’s pain, this book will serve as a gentle guide. Discover how God can work through your disagreements, differences, and discomfort in ways you might never expect.

Find Come Sit With Me at your favorite retailer:

And add Come Sit with Me to your ‘want to read’ shelf on Goodreads!

If you liked the excerpt we shared above, we’d love to send you an even bigger FREE sneak peek of Come Sit With Me! Sign up below and we’ll email you the whole introduction and the first two chapters.

Sign up and get your sample chapters!

 

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

A Loving Prayer to Calm Your Anxious Soul

by

I woke up with a heaviness on my heart. Not only was my body feeling tired from a restless night, overthinking a stressful dilemma I was facing, my heart felt burdened about my friend who has been suffering from cancer and another weary mommy friend with three little ones under six years old who was also going through a hard time.

As I put my shoes on for my morning walk, I felt anxious, unable to rest my mind on any peaceful thoughts because the burdens I was carrying weren’t the kind that get resolved easily. The day had just started, but I already felt weary.

Do you relate to waking up to that anxious feeling, when you’re facing hard things with no clear path to resolution?

As I walked on a trail, I whispered a breath prayer, “Jesus, I don’t know what to do.” This wasn’t a prayer spoken in despair, but a cry to my Loving Savior for help. I walked on in quietness, simply breathing in and slowly out to bring calm to my body, and reminding myself that Jesus was walking with me. I waited with expectation for His encouragement to reach me in some way.

That’s when I noticed there were some tiny butterflies fluttering around the wildflowers that lined my path. I’m sure butterflies have always been around on my walks, but that morning, it seemed like I looked at them for the first time.

I’ve never been a “butterfly person”, but I felt drawn to stop and watch them that morning. As one rested with its delicate sunshine-yellow wings on a flower, I was reminded of what I once learned about the butterfly: a butterfly first begins as an egg, then becomes a caterpillar, and then cocoons itself in a chrysalis throughout autumn and even winter before it finally becomes transformed into a beautiful butterfly in spring!

When a caterpillar has to go through the challenge of change, it spends time hidden. But just because it hibernates for a season, doesn’t mean it’s doing nothing. The butterfly that eventually emerges from the chrysalis reminds us that in our most difficult moments, God is also building our wings.

Although there are no simple answers to so many of life’s difficult problems, it doesn’t mean God cannot transform those hard moments into something beautiful.

As I stood there, marveling at God’s amazing artistry in creating a butterfly’s beauty, a prayer came to my heart. I realized that although I may not be able to change the hard times or suffering that my friends have to go through, I can pray for them, knowing God is in control of the journey we each must walk through and He is not letting go of our hands.

Today, I’d like to whisper this prayer that I prayed for myself and for my friends to lift you up too:

Dear Jesus,
Draw near to my friend and place your hand in hers. Reassure her of your gentle love and touch her with your peace and presence. Thank you for all the beautiful treasures that you’ve prepared ahead of time, just for her. In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Breathe. You are God’s delight.

Today, when you feel anxious, stop and breathe. Look down and see God folding your hand into His, holding you close to Him. God will carry you through.

Hear God’s loving whisper:

Cast your cares on me.
I will take care of you.
I will carry you.

Hear God’s promises for you:

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1Peter 5:7 NIV).
“Even to your old age… I will carry you” (Isaiah 46:4 NIV).

Just breathe. God turns towards you, opening His arms to hold you close. He will take care of you!

What is helping calm your anxious soul?  Share today’s prayer with a friend to encourage her today.

For more calm to lift your anxious soul, download Bonnie’s FREE 7 Prayers & Scriptures to Lower Anxiety and Restore Peace by signing up here. 

 

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

When God Shows Up in the Best Possible Way

by

My daughter, Lila, had big plans for her birthday: a party with friends. She planned it for two months — the plan incessantly changing — and I kept trying to steer her towards a neighborhood or family party instead. Not because I don’t want her to have what she wants, but because I’m afraid people won’t show up for her; I am afraid of the imminent and foreboding rejection I know comes with a differently-abled child. 

It hurts too much for people to not love her like we do, to not see her like we do. 

She took a sheet of paper and wrote her own invitation: “Panera or Hawaiian Bros. Town center shopping. Ice cream. Fun???” 

Then she created a chart for names and phone numbers she would take with her to school and have her friends fill out. I waited until the Monday before the party because if you wait till the last minute, of course everyone will be busy. It’s just their schedule if they can’t come, not Lila.

But she hounded me. “Text my friends now, Mom,” she demanded, hand on her hip. The list was long. I couldn’t believe she collected all these phone numbers. Odds are good we will have 3 or 4. Each “send” was painful for me. When I say I’m protective of her, I really mean, I have built my life around it, grasping for a sense of control over a diagnosis that seems uncontrollable. 

With each text sent, I held my breath, sure that it would be met with “No, sorry” or simply . . .  silence. But my phone kept buzzing — everyone was responding. If it was a 13-year-old, it read something like, “Can’t wait! Love her!” If it was the mother of one of the girls, it looked like, “We hear so much about her, wouldn’t miss it!”

I was nervous for the party, and in stark contrast, Lila was not. She was beaming, trusting, a little naive to the harsh realities of what COULD happen. My worries compounded. What will we do? How will I keep them entertained? Will they ignore her? 

One by one, her friends showed up. They hugged her and squealed when they arrived at Panera. They sang and danced strange TikTok-ish erratic dances together. (Yes, I am old.) When we went shopping, they picked outfits for her and then oohed and awed when she came out of the dressing room. I kept having to choke back tears. They weren’t faking it, they really loved her. In fact, it was better than I could have imagined, better than any best-case scenario I had played in my mind.

They loved her more than I’ve ever seen a friend from the outside world love her in a long time. She was not strange to them. They laughed when she laughed. She opened presents, screaming with joy at each thing. “Lila is the best gift opener. She’s so fun to watch get gifts!” one girl said. 

My breath caught, this is what I cherish about Lila too. They understood her, like I do?

It’s rare that it happens, that people see her like I do. It’s my secret world, the world I protect her in. I save up all the best things about her and hoard them because no one deserves her pure joy if they can’t see it.

That night, when it was all over, I sat and thought over my worries and how they didn’t match up to reality. That for all my trying to control the situation to protect her, if I had it my way, I would have shielded her from a great deal of joy, and not the heartache I feared. My plan would have turned in on me and imploded on itself. There are lots of verses in the Bible that implore us to not worry. That if God takes care of the flowers of the field, we don’t need to worry about how God will take care of us. I know those verses. But in my worry about my daughter, I was really asking a question of provision.

Will you really provide for her? Will you really provide for me? Is the same grace that’s sufficient for me, sufficient for her? These are the questions that pour out of me, trembling, doubtful. 

Meeting me in my self-protection, or in protecting my daughter (which is really a way to protect me too), Jesus gently kneels down and searches my face with His own teary eyes. Hey, He says. When I am brave enough to admit with my furrowed brow that I have consistently been afraid that He is not going to take care of me, her, us, Jesus continues,

Look at the birds in the sky. They don’t plant or harvest. They don’t even store grain in barns. Yet your Father in heaven takes care of them. Aren’t you worth much more than birds? Matthew 6:26 (ESV)

Isn’t she worth more than birds?

He didn’t have to do it like this. It didn’t have to be twelve girls that showed up for Lila; it could have been four and I would have been thrilled. He didn’t have to make sure someone never left her side, not even for a second. He didn’t have to include dancing and squealing. And He didn’t have to let me watch it all from the outside, having nothing to do with it.

God was doing it, He was controlling the Birthday. He didn’t have to stoop to my level to show me how much He loved her and me.  But in His abundance, He did. He went overboard in the best way. And in doing so, healed a piece of my heart I had been unwilling to bring to Him. He pursued it Himself for my good, for my joy, for my healing. 

 

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

You Can Count on This: God Is Near

by

The Lord is near the brokenhearted;
he saves those crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18 (CSB)

In the middle of heartache and life-break, when it’s hard to breathe, hard to see the path ahead, or even hard to find the strength to make it out of bed, you can count on this:

The Lord is near.

God doesn’t turn away when you feel desperate. Your burdens are not too much for Him to bear. He comes close to you. Like a concerned parent, He wants to scoop you up and hold you to His chest. Hear the beat of His heart: I am with you. I am with you. I am with you. 

 

In a World of Instant Gratification, God Offers You Patience

by

Anna, a prophet, was also there in the Temple. She was the daughter of Phanuel from the tribe of Asher, and she was very old. Her husband died when they had been married only seven years. Then she lived as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the Temple but stayed there day and night, worshiping God with fasting and prayer. She came along just as Simeon was talking with Mary and Joseph, and she began praising God. She talked about the child to everyone who had been waiting expectantly for God to rescue Jerusalem.
Luke 2:36–38 (NLT)

I’ve spent many years as a member of Weight Watchers, trying and hoping to change my habits and make healthier choices. Nearly every leader I’ve ever had in the program has counseled new members against impatience, warning us that weight loss — and even more so, life change — takes time. They reminded us that we didn’t get to where we were overnight, and it wouldn’t change overnight either.

This was the hardest part of my weight-loss journey — harder even than avoiding second helpings at dinner, adding more vegetables to my day, or getting back on the treadmill. Remembering that my problems had developed one day at a time, one pound at a time, even one choice at a time felt impossible when I was finally ready for change and anxious to see results.

Honestly, I’ve noticed this impatience show up in many areas of my life. Why wait for five to seven business days when I can get my packages with two-day shipping instead? Why let my dinner simmer all day in the slow cooker when I can zap it with the pressure cooker? Why begin watching a television show when it first premieres, waiting a whole week for a new episode, when after a few months I can binge the whole thing on a streaming service? And speaking of streaming, why isn’t the latest season of my favorite show available yet?

Like a little kid counting down to a birthday, holiday, or other big event — asking each morning how many more sleeps until the big day — I want what I want, and I want it right now. Whether we’re talking about something inconsequential like a television show or something significant like healing or rescue from a serious situation, most of us tend to quickly turn to frustration or even despair when we don’t get the answer, the results, or the relief we desire. In a society focused on immediate gratification, we forget the virtue of patience.

Of course, if we’re willing, we don’t have to look far to see how many good things come only after waiting. Flowers bloom in the spring, but not until they’re good and ready. Crops planted in springtime can’t be harvested until the summer and fall. We can check on that tomato plant on the back porch every thirty minutes after planting it, but nothing we do will make it produce fruit any faster. If we’re patient, though, we might learn to enjoy the process — the watering, the watching, even the waiting for the payoff in the end.

The same is true of God and His plans. We can’t make Him move any faster. But if we can learn to be still and wait for the Lord, eventually we will see Him answer our prayers, and in the interim, we will discover so much about ourselves and about God. We can grow closer to God in those seasons of waiting and see our faith deepen as we rely on Him and His good plans.

When I think of Anna in the temple, faithful and patient as she waited for the promised Messiah, I’m inspired to trust God to give me the patience I need in my own life. I laugh when I imagine Anna’s joy at seeing Mary and Joseph walk through the doors with Jesus, and I’m encouraged to wait for my own moment to exclaim, “Finally! He’s here!”

But I can’t do it on my own, and, I suspect, neither can you.

Patience does not come naturally for most of us, especially when overnight shipping and thirty-minute delivery are everyday options. But God promises to give us what we need, and that includes patience. As we face long-term challenges and seemingly unending struggles — or even when we simply can’t get exactly what we want right when we want it — let’s ask God to give us patience. Let’s ask Him to empower us to wait for Him like Anna did until the day we see His promises fulfilled.

God, it’s so hard to wait. Please help me to be patient. Remind me of Your promises and give me faith that You will fulfill them. When impatience rises in me, empower me to wait on You, and help me to pay attention to how You move even in the waiting. Amen.

This article was written by Mary Carver, 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.

Being Empowered by Jesus Changes Everything

by

Empowerment — the word brings to mind motivational speakers and the self-help section of a bookstore. “Empowering” messages we receive from the stage or page tend to run along the lines of, “If you believe in yourself, you can do anything!” It’s an inspiring slogan in the moment, but its energy fizzles out in the long run. This kind of “empowerment” falls short of what we truly long for — to be empowered in the fullness of who we are.

The problem is that we’ve learned to compartmentalize ourselves — our physical bodies, our mental health, our emotional well-being, our relationships with one another, and our faith in God. We seek empowerment in each category by watching fitness gurus on YouTube or listening to Enneagram podcasts, reading books by celebrity pastors or trying the latest health food.

But what often happens is that we prioritize certain parts of our being over others because it feels more spiritual or urgent. We might nourish our souls but neglect to eat well and drink plenty of water. We might exercise our minds but lack meaningful friendships. When we do this, we become lopsided in our being, forgetting that every aspect of our lives is important to cultivate because God is in it all.

God cares about our whole being because He, who is spirit, became flesh in order to dwell among us (John 1:14). Jesus, who is fully God, took on Himself the vulnerability and beauty of being human. He enjoyed eating meals and napped when He was tired. He wept when His friend died and raged in anger at injustice. And His work of redemption includes the restoration of our bodies, minds, and souls.

God is invested in our wholeness and the empowerment of our whole being. This involves more than “You go, girl!” statements that lead us to believe we can do everything in our own strength. God empowers us to be all that He’s made us to be by the truth of His Word and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. This is exactly what is explored in our devotional, Empowered: More of Him for All of You by Mary Carver, Grace P. Cho, and Anna E. Rendell.

We want you to be empowered in every part of your being to live fully as God created you to be — every day! The new Empowered bundle from Dayspring will help you do just that! It includes a copy of our Empowered devotional and our 2022-23 (in)courage planner.

Empowered incorporates the five major components of our being — physical, mental, emotional, relational, and spiritual — and features sixty Scripture passages and devotions that invite you to see from different angles how God empowers you. Each day ends with prayer and reflection questions to deepen your learning.

And the (in)courage planner will help you to both plan and walk through your days remembering that you are empowered by God. Every month you’ll be introduced to a different theme that reflects God’s heart for you, and you’ll get to read an excerpt of a story from a different (in)courage writer, right in your planner! She’ll remind you with her story that each of us has gifts to share.

This agenda planner provides the classic DaySpring planner features, including durable laminated cover and tabs, lay flat design with continuous spiral, an interior pocket page, and generous space for noting your plans. You will be inspired by the beautiful monthly art spreads, the notes section with lined pages will help you write down quick thoughts to come back to, and three pages of adorable stickers will help bring your planner some color and extra joy!

Get your Empowered bundle today (and pick up a copy for a friend!). . . then leave a comment below for a chance to WIN one of 5 Empowered bundles*!

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

Look Back, but Don’t Stare

by

After a fun weekend celebrating a friend’s milestone birthday, I drove home determined to find a particular photo of my group of friends from high school. We laughed so much that I wanted to reconnect with other memories from our past.

My high school photos live in a few plastic bins tucked into the back corner of my closet. They rest in obscurity under my Christmas decorations, extra blankets for house guests, and some boxes of my adult kids’ books that I really need to drop off at their homes.

As I peeked inside those plastic time capsules, it felt like a time warp hole opened, transporting me from my dining room table back to not just high school, but other periods in my past:

As a clueless new mom staring down at my newborn wondering why in the world the nurses were going to let me walk out of the hospital with my baby.

Then, as a 25-year-old mom listening to my second child ask, “Snack, Mommy?” in her squeaky little Minnie Mouse voice. Oh, how I loved asking her questions just to hear her tiny little voice.

I turned one more page…

And I gazed at my youngest child. She was our miracle baby eating dinner in her highchair. Her dad’s hand was in the photo as he fed her and wiped her face. We were a happy and whole family back then…

I closed the photo album and my eyes blinked back to the present. I felt the roll of tears slipping down my cheeks and the emotions in my heart were just as real and big as the day those photos were taken. While I may have revisited the past, the sense of happiness, joy, and sadness stuck with me in the present.

As you review past photos or entertain memories, what’s sweet for you? What’s a struggle for you?

I wrestled with whether to reopen the photo album to look at more photos. But could I handle the tension of both the good and bad memories? As I debated my choices, a helpful tool came to mind:

“Look back, but don’t stare.”

I heard this saying years ago in a family addiction recovery group. God used those words as a gentle reminder that I can revisit the memories of the past, but it isn’t healthy to stay there too long. Just as it isn’t safe to drive by only looking in the rearview mirror or backup camera, it’s not healthy for us to leave the gates of our minds open for the past to come and distract us from what’s happening in our present.

Unfortunately, our reflections on the past often tilt toward the negative moments. If we’re being honest, there are times when we prefer to entertain those negative memories. Is it possible that there are times when we revisit bad memories repeatedly in order to justify or cling to our anger, resentment, unforgiveness, or even our self-righteousness?

My friend, are there certain memories that you need to stop staring back at so often?   

When we live in the past, the danger is that we will miss seeing God’s faithfulness, love, and power right here and now.

God is always at work in the right now of your life. No one is diminishing the pain, heartache, or loss that you’ve experienced, but if God’s promises can be trusted, then He is arranging opportunities for healing, renewal, or restoration for you. What if He’s been trying to show you purpose that can come out of that time of pain?

My friend, God’s best for you is yet to come — look forward to it.

Thankfully, we have wisdom from a scriptural author who had a difficult past. Here is his wisdom to guide us practically today:

…but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.
Philippians 3:13-14 (NLT)

As the Apostle Paul wrote these words, I imagine he saw a mix of memories. He would likely have had flashbacks of his years of religious training, his old zealous religious ways, and hunting down early Christians. Imagine him flinching every time he remembered standing by as an early follower of Christ was killed.

Could Paul erase the memory of his past like it never happened? No. But, Paul committed not to let his past hijack God’s freedom and purpose for his future.

Whatever your mind keeps looking back to is where you will stay stuck unless you train yourself, like Paul, to look forward. Paul reminds us that it’s not easy, but it’s worth it!

You experience freedom in your future as you look forward to God instead of fixating on the past.

 

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

Turning Condemnation into Confidence

by

We have a waterfall in our backyard. It is one of those man-made water features that includes a small pond, a pump, and the sound of water tumbling softly over a bed of rocks. Sitting in my office, I can hear its rhythm, and my heart and mind settle. It soothes me, delivering a covering of peace while I work, study, and read.

However, I wasn’t able to enjoy this sound much of the summer. The reason? It sprang a leak. In the span of less than 24 hours, the pond’s water level dropped several inches. Since it sits close to the foundation of our home, we couldn’t allow it to continue to leak. So we drained it, dried it, removed all the rocks, and then went on a hunt to find the source of the problem.

It took much longer than we expected. Eventually, we found a hole. Then we patched it, sealed it, and filled the pond back up, thinking the issue was solved.

It wasn’t. Again, the water level dropped dramatically. Once again, we drained, dried, removed, and searched. This time, we discovered a large area where the water liner, due to time and weather, had completely disintegrated. Not a pinhole, but an entire area. We’d missed it the first time around because it sat deep underneath one of the larger rocks. It took time and determination to find the true source of the leak, to bypass the superficial holes that were easier to spot and seal, and instead search for the more serious culprit. Once we found it, we got to work. This time, the repair took longer and required more supplies. And, before we put everything back again, we tested it. It was too important not to be sure.

Now, a couple of weeks later, I sit here with the sound of the water outside my window once again. And although I wish it hadn’t been so much work, I also know the reward was fully worth the effort.

At this stage of my life, I’ve come to realize that my confidence — my internal sense of groundedness and peace — can be like a lovely pond. When it is shored up, leak-proof, it produces an internal haven I can retreat to when life grows hard. But like anything else in this human experience, my confidence is subject to wear and tear. Over time and through various kinds of weather, the liner can wear down, develop holes, even disintegrate. That is why I can’t neglect the internal state of my heart. I must always keep my eye out for evidence of a leak, something that is draining the peace and confidence I have in Christ.

And nothing pokes a hole in our confidence quite like the stab of condemnation.

Condemnation can come in many forms: an unjust accusation, criticism from someone who is supposed to love us, regret over a mistake, memory of a past failure, an inaccurate perception of how God feels about us, or simply physical weariness and exhaustion. Our enemy is adept at using condemnation to poke holes in our confidence because it stands in direct opposition to the gospel. As Paul wrote, “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1, NIV).

The Good News of Jesus is that through His life and death and resurrection, the condemnation we deserved was put to death along with Jesus. That horrible thing you did last week? Paid for. That mistake from your youth that you can’t seem to get over? Thrown as far as the east is from the west. That put-down you received from the mouth of someone who is supposed to love you? Jesus is standing guard over you. It can’t stick. The way you feel like you can’t do it right, get it right, live it right? No worries. Jesus became all our brokenness so all that is wrong with us could finally be made whole.

No condemnation. None. Zero.

“Now it is God who makes both us and you stand firm in Christ. He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.”
2 Corinthians 1:21-22 (NIV)

It is God Himself who makes us strong, firm, steadfast. So go ahead and seal up all those holes — especially those that run deep and dark — with the healing power of those words. God does not condemn you. He loves you. And His love is the only seal strong enough to shore up your peace beyond the reach of all that is wrong with the world and deliver a haven of rest and confidence no matter where you are.

 

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

Convenient Independence: Missing the Meaning of Church

by

I love modern conveniences. Next-day delivery? Sign me up. Curbside pickup? Yes, please! Today’s conveniences enable us to pull ourselves up by our metaphorical bootstraps and beam like a proud toddler, “I did it myself!” Our independence seems to grow each year, but when it comes to our faith, this independence can introduce a dangerous idea.   

When my husband and I followed his job out of state and away from our home church, we started listening to online sermons while we looked for a church in our new town. Then we became parents and the idea of getting out during morning naps on Sundays seemed increasingly less convenient. Slowly, our resolve to settle in a local church dwindled and we simply checked the box with sporadic online sermons. 

One day, a friend invited me to her church. My husband and I agreed to go the next Sunday, but our expectations were low. Listening online was simply easier and we weren’t convinced of the need to attend local services. 

When, after the service, my friend invited me to join their women’s Bible study, I was still skeptical. I didn’t think I’d learn anything useful, but my friend would be there and, let’s be honest, they were offering free coffee and childcare.  

At the bible study, there was an elderly Scottish woman at my table. Her prayer was so sincere that I surprised myself by getting emotional. I rarely cry, much less while sitting in a folding chair, holding a styrofoam cup of mediocre coffee. But it had been a long time since I prayed with other Christians, and it encouraged me. I felt a dim flicker of recognition; something in this room felt familiar. What was it?  

I didn’t have a chance to find out. Within two weeks, the pandemic canceled all in-person programming. I returned to my usual online sermons, but I wondered about that moment in the Bible study and the familiar feeling I had when the woman prayed. 

After lockdowns lifted, I clung stubbornly to online sermons instead of returning to the church. The ongoing pandemic gave me a reasonable excuse, but it was convenience rather than germs that kept me away. When my third child was born the following year, the women of my friend’s church ignored my absence and organized my first-ever meal train. With my other kids, grocery pickup and delivery services had taught me and my husband to survive the sleepy blur of postpartum on our own. A meal train felt unnecessary but nice.  

As I cuddled my newborn son and mused gratefully over the care these women had shown, I felt the same vaguely familiar feeling as in that Bible study. Suddenly, it clicked: this was the Church. Not the building, but the people. These women didn’t know me personally, but they didn’t need to. They were simply responding to God’s call of being the Church in community. 

I had convinced myself that attending a local church was nice when it was convenient but ultimately unnecessary. Like the eye and head in Paul’s illustration to the Corinthians, I had turned to the other members of the body and thought, “I don’t need you!” But Paul reminds us the body is a collective – “not made up of one part but of many” (1 Corinthians 12:14 ESV).  

When circumstances and society mold us into independent people, we start to believe the idea that we can DIY a private faith without being involved in the local body of Christ. But this largely misses the meaning of the Church. 

God has not called us to independence; He has called His people to community. When I checked the box with online sermons, I thought I was still living in the Church, albeit individualistically. Online sermons are wonderful, and I still listen regularly, but church — the Church — is more than just sermons. We, God’s gathered people, are the Church.  

From the very beginning, God looked at Adam in the garden and said, “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18). Adam and Eve were God’s first community and the beginning of the Church. Community between Himself and His gathered people was always God’s design. God’s Church is to encourage the believers and to be His hands and feet in caring for the community. Hebrews 10:24-25 reminds us:

“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another.”  

Through an encouraging prayer in a folding chair and good meals left at my door, God reminded me of His design for the Church. His design is not independent, and it is not DIY; it’s sometimes ordinary and not always convenient. His design is simply community. 

“If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.”
1 Corinthians 12:19–20 (NIV)

 

The Thing You Need to Remember When You Feel Off or Lost

by

Then He said to the crowd, “If any of you wants to be My follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross daily, and follow Me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for My sake, you will save it. And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but are yourself lost or destroyed?”
Luke 9:23–25 (NLT)

Have you ever felt like the path you were on was off? That somehow you had taken a wrong turn? After college, I got a job as a traveling professional development trainer. On one occasion, I rented a vehicle and had to rent the GPS separately. Once I got into the car, I put the GPS on the dashboard mount. I put in the address of my location, and it stated that I had a six-and-a-half-hour drive. What happened next caught me off guard.

I was driving in the direction the GPS told me to go, yet I found myself on dirt roads far away from highways. I drove by large farmlands in the middle of Ohio. I kept on the path the GPS told me to take until I realized that every major road I had come across was not part of my route. Instead, my GPS was taking me down back roads. I was headed to Cleveland, and my GPS was directing me down the longest road to get there. After inspecting the GPS, I realized it was set to “back roads only.” Somehow, while the GPS was in my purse, I pressed buttons that set it on a path I was never intended to be on. Once I corrected the settings, I got to my destination by getting on the right road — which was quicker and smoother.

How often do we get into a car (which represents our lives) with a GPS (which represents the preselected settings of our mind and societal pressures) only to be driving in what feels like circles, unable to truly connect with the journey? In moments like these, God, in His love for us, will whisper, “Check the settings,” as He did for me in real-time.

The programming of the world will often leave us feeling lost and confused, wondering, “Where am I?” Check the settings, my friend. When Jesus says you must give up your own way, He is saying, “Once you give up your life, your journey, and your way, and decide to do life My way, that is when you will find your way.”

I can’t tell you it will be an easy or quick journey, but it will be the right one. This type of journey happened to me when I left my job to become a full-time mom and wife. Before I left, I reset my settings by deciding my life was no longer my own, and I gave up trying to live my way. Now it was time to do things God’s way.

Let’s pray:

God, redirect my thoughts to You every single day. Redirect my motives. Redirect my desires. Release me to follow Your plans and Your purpose for my life. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

This article is from Release: 90 Days to Embrace God’s Plan for Your Life by Bridgette Reed.

—

Do you ever ask God, ”Is this really what you want me to do?”

If so, you’re not alone! When we don’t see God’s plan playing out, especially the way we think it should, we start to doubt that we are in the right place. During the boredom, the tedious tasks, and discomfort, we begin to question God’s purpose for us, fantasizing about the opportunities we think we should have taken, and eyeing the paths that still appear far more rewarding.

Release: 90 Days to Embrace God’s Plan for Your Life, by Bridgette Reed, is a daily devotional designed to help you live by faith, not by sight. God’s dreams for us are bigger than ours, and His ways are above our ways. In this devotion book, you’ll discover how to embrace God’s perfect purpose for your life and the great joy that’s waiting for you there. It’s time to exchange your plan for God’s plan and experience the true freedom that comes from giving it all to God!

Get your copy today (and pick up a copy for a friend as well). . . and leave a comment below for a chance to WIN one of 5 copies*!

Then tune in to the (in)courage podcast this weekend for a special episode with Becky Keife and Release author Bridgette Reed. Don’t miss it!

*Giveaway open to US addresses only and will close on 10/9 at 11:59pm central.

 

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

For When You Feel Apprehensive and Uncertain about New Life Stages

by

By the time we moved at the end of 2020, I was physically and mentally exhausted. I’d painted three bathrooms, three bedrooms, the kitchen cabinets, and all the baseboards as we prepared to sell our home. Not only did our home hold a decade and a half of memories, it housed all the stuff we’d accumulated over fiftteen years and everything our older children left behind when they transitioned to adult life. I still can’t believe we finally emptied the unfinished basement and cleaned out the garage.

Although I was excited to be in our new house and neighborhood, and the winter months gave me a good excuse to stay home and settle in, it was slow going. The unpacking and organizing moved along at a snail’s pace; the preceding months had burned me out soul-deep.

Because I tend to be goal-driven, this breathing room honestly made me uncomfortable. Shouldn’t I be doing something important or tackling a big project? But all along, I felt the Lord offering a period of rest that I needed to accept.

Little did I know how that period of rest and space to breathe would prepare me for what was next.

Over the past few months, I’ve had the renewed capacity to open my mind and life to new opportunities and interests. I’ve been asked to speak out-of-state at two women’s events. Speaking is something I’ve considered for a while, and the invitations feel like a sweet confirmation. I also want to try my hand at writing fiction, which according to my new account at thestorygraph.com, is what I read 94% of the time. I’m listening to podcasts and reading books about writing fiction — it’s so fun! Later this month I’ll attend a writers conference with workshops on topics like point-of-view, story structure, and the art of storytelling.

I feel the Lord’s gentle nudge as He shows me fresh ways to use the gifts He’s given while glorifying Him in the process. It’s both exciting and scary.

My husband and I are inching ever closer to the empty nest years. At the moment we only have two daughters at home. Our 22-year-old works and is about to go back to school and our 17-year-old is a high school senior with a part-time job. After years of living with a full and busy household — and all the sports, classes, and sleepovers that eight children have brought into our life — now there are days the puppy and I are the only ones at home. 

Some women look forward to their empty nest years but I have dreaded them. I enjoy my children and it’s nice they’re older and independent after years of being responsible for babies and toddlers. They run errands for me now instead of vice versa. They’re funny and delightful and we can have mature conversations. But they will leave someday and I need to be ready for it.

One day recently I realized how my new interests of speaking and writing fiction will work well with quieter days and I could envision a future shaped by them. Unexpectedly, a word came to mind: thrive. In that moment, I felt the Lord’s assurance that our home will not become lonely, but a place where I can flourish. It transformed my thinking. Slow, quiet days no longer feel empty but full of promise — I wish I could squeeze more hours from each day and fill them with all the things I want to do.

We often approach new life stages and paths we haven’t walked with apprehension and uncertainty, but we shouldn’t be afraid: God has a plan for us.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Do you ever resist areas that might be part of your calling because they feel uncomfortable or you don’t know if you’ll excel? I do. But this approach implies the strength for the journey begins and ends with us, and that’s not how God works. Where He calls us to go, where He invites us to try, where He leads us to trust, God will provide what we need.

Dear Lord, help me trust You to lead and support me through life’s changes and to recognize the guidance of the Holy Spirit you placed within me. Give me eyes to see and a heart to seek Your plan for my life and help me to thrive in it. Amen.

 

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