When All You Wanted for Christmas Was Peace

When All You Wanted for Christmas Was Peace

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I closed my eyes and asked God for what felt like the millionth time just that week, “Peace. Please let peace rule here.” The quiet Christmas tree lights winked at me from the corner of my eye like a promise. All was calm at 6:15 a.m. while the kids were still asleep. It felt like anything was possible in that quiet space before the sun stretched up into the sky.

By breakfast, two of my kids were already arguing about who was smarter and who had more orange juice in their cup. I’m still amazed at the power of their glare game and quick comebacks when they argue with each other. Pushing her juice cup forward to compare amounts with her brother, our daughter jerked her cup one way, then the other. The juice sloshed up the sides of the cup and onto the table, spilling everywhere.

I feel like that cup of orange juice a lot of days.

In those dark, pre-dawn hours, I was calm, contained, prayerful, and hopeful. But by breakfast, I was a good morning greeting gone haywire with juice spots on my glasses.

What happens when you hope and beg for peace and then the day spills out all sticky with words you regret and too many emotions at once?

After the juice spill, I tried to reel myself, the wet towels, and my kids back in with reminders about what matters more than their school grades and orange juice. I looked at our quiet Christmas tree, lighting the corner of the next room, and sighed.

As believers, we are called to be peacemakers, yet I still find myself spending energy trying to keep the peace in my home as if it’s something I can grab a hold of and secure in a jar with a screw-tight lid. It turns out, Peace is a person, not a program I regularly fail to maintain.

Almost thirteen years into parenting, I’ve all but given up on calm and quiet. Sure, there are ways to keep the peace and maintain peaceful moments with rules and structure. Those things aren’t bad, but they also aren’t what makes lasting peace.

Lasting peace comes from an everlasting relationship with Jesus, who is our Peace.

Like me, my kids have their own struggles and sin, and together, our bouquet of these things rub against each other at the breakfast table, after school, during board games, and when we’re deciding on desserts. I used to think — and sometimes still do — that the strife and chaos were evidence of my failure as a parent. I thought, If I was _________, then there would be peace. If we had _________, or if I was like so-and-so, then our home would feel peaceful.

But here’s what I’m still learning this season: Every moment of strife, selfishness, and coming up short (at home and far beyond) is a chance to ask Peace to come and be near us — to be with us. It’s an opportunity to turn towards Him in our need. It’s counterintuitive, isn’t it? It’s the last thing we’d expect. Peace doesn’t run from our chaos; Peace shows up right in the middle of it all. Right in the middle of every argument, misunderstanding, voice raised, or worse, we can cry out to Peace — Jesus — and lean hard on what cannot be mustered up or maintained in our own strength.

It’s long after Christmas, but our tree is still up. The twinkling lights shine warmth though the now brittle branches are weighed down by all the things we hoped this holiday season would be, alongside of all the good and hard things it actually was. We had some beautiful family moments with Sunday night Advent meals and candle lighting, all-day cookie baking, laughing with extended family, and wrapping gifts with anticipation. If you happened upon them, you might have thought peace was in our grasp — something we’d mastered. But if you stayed a while longer, you would’ve seen our unique style of chaos and tears and how far from peacekeeping we can actually be. I know those parts aren’t as pretty, but it’s there where I’m learning to find Peace with an outstretched hand, again and again. Maybe if I invite you in, you’ll see Him there too — Jesus, Emmanuel, with us, for us, despite us — offering all of Himself, the ultimate, lasting Peace.

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Empowered: More of Him for All of You

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The word empowerment brings to mind motivational speakers and the self-help section of a bookstore. Messages from the stage and 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. It 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.

And at (in)courage, we’ve taken all of these thoughts, convictions, truths, and experiences and put them into one place. Meet our next book:

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 your learning.

Friends, Empowered: More of Him for All of You is unlike any other book we’ve ever written, and we are SO excited for it to be in your hands. It’s honest, it’s hopeful, and it’s beautiful in both design and content.

Order your copy, from DaySpring, Amazon, or the retailer of your choice.

It’s our prayer that as you read this book, you’ll be empowered in every part of your being to live fully as God created you to be.

 

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When We Are Only a Bud and Not Yet a Flower

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Have you ever watched or listened to something many times, but this particular time, something new grabbed your attention? Perhaps you were listening to a song you know well, and then for the first time, a lyric resonated with you differently than before.

Recently, I was listening to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s 1967 speech addressed to members of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference and titled, “Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?” The title sounds ripe for today, doesn’t it? In the speech, Dr. King continues to advocate for human rights and a sense of hope. He first acknowledges the accomplishments of civil rights organizations and leaders. As I listened, I imagined how hearing such accomplishments must have replenished the men and women who had been dreaming and striving for freedom for decades. He admonished his listeners — those stripped of rights to make decisions concerning their destiny — to assert their own dignity and worth, to rise up with affirmation, and to sign their own emancipation proclamation within! His encouragement still rings with truth today, which is why we are so captivated by Dr. King’s words.

As I continued to listen, Dr. King pressed the listeners to “recognize where we are now.” And then he said something that, though I’m familiar with his speeches and work, jumped out and grabbed me this time. It’s so weighty, yet I’ve never seen it on any of the MLK-memes that flood social media when people want to share his words.

Dr. King said, “The plant of freedom has grown only a bud and not yet a flower.”

Wait, what? I paused the audio recording. I thought about how in that moment in 1967, after the passing of the Civil Rights Act, at a time when many of our nation’s citizens had pushed hard to manifest so much change, Dr. King was reminding them that they were not even close to the finish line.

Of course, a bud is significant! But a bud is not a flower. However, the presence of a bud does mean that the soil and seed are doing what they were designed to do and that a root structure is thriving. A bud is evidence of proper nourishment from the sun and rain. But a bud is not a flower or the fruit we are reaching for. A bud means we have more growing to do!

If I had been there listening in 1967, exhausted from constantly pushing back against powers committed to preserving injustice, I might have felt discouraged. I might have thought, “We’ve done all of this, and you’re telling me, Dr. King, that we are just getting started? That we’ve got more growing to do?” But listening now in 2022, I am relieved to know they understood they were tilling the soil, sowing the seed, and laying the foundation for future generations to build on. 

So yes, we have more growing to do! This revelation caught me off guard because it shattered a narrative I had been taught about the civil rights movement. As a child, I thought it had concluded with the assassination of Dr. King. My misinterpretation was partially derived from the way I was taught history in school — a documented sequence of past events with a beginning date, an end date, and a dash between them. Also, adding to my misunderstanding was how people referred to the civil rights movement as a bygone era, a time overflowing with strategy and struggle, promise and progress — a tangible, radical outcry that has since lulled to a compromising nap. Of course, as an adult, I’ve come to understand that the civil rights movement lives on. As long as there are nations and people groups who treat the image of God unjustly and resist God’s plan for love, advocates for justice will rise up. 

Later in the speech, Dr. King reiterated, “We still have a long, long way to go before we reach the promised land of freedom.” A popular misconception is that Dr. King and other justice advocates of his time had already delivered us to the promised land and that the present-day push for justice is somehow taking us backwards, away from the dream. But here’s what Dr. King knew back then: They didn’t complete the work of reconciling injustice; they helped instill it. They didn’t fix racial and economic injustice; they helped justice take root. When we wrongly perceive or assess the work as finished, we see threats where we should see growth opportunities. And recognizing where we are now — that we’ve got more growing to do — is essential. 

We don’t have to be afraid, overwhelmed, or discouraged in the work that’s still before us. We have this promise from Philippians 1:6: ” . . . the God who started this great work in you [will] keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish (MSG). Jesus taught us how to manifest justice wherever we are, and Dr. King’s life is an example of what this great work can look like. Jesus first showed us; Dr. King reminded us. We are on course to flourish.

Today, as we commemorate the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the impact of the civil rights movement, may we be dissatisfied with a bud. In faith, may we flourish into a flower of freedom. May we choose growth over preserving the status quo. May we reach to learn beyond our current understanding, listening and hearing in a new way. And may we seek to see humanity as we were designed to be and continue the work toward change and freedom.

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There Is an Appointed Time for Everything — Even Mourning

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“It’s back.”

My husband Brendan uttered those two words, and it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“It” is ulcerative colitis, which Bren first had as a little boy. Ulcers multiplied in his colon, forcing him to run outside and bury his belly in the snow to numb the pain. After years of failed treatments and embarrassing incidents that scarred him for life, the doctors suggested the last resort: a colostomy bag. To eight-year-old Bren, this was unspeakable. “No mum,” he said. “I think you should let me die and go to heaven.”

Later, nudged by the Holy Spirit, a friend offered to pray for him again. As they prayed, warmth rose in his stomach. He cried, “Jesus healed me!” When they returned to the hospital for a check-up, the doctors were stunned: The ulcers had vanished.

I’d adopted this miraculous story as my own, a testimony to God’s supernatural power. Here was a peek at heaven walking around my home in the form of my husband!

But now, our miracle had been stolen. I didn’t understand. Why, God? Why steal Bren’s healing? I felt betrayed. Bren did all the “right” things: He studied the Word everyday, he was the loudest singer at church, and we were even helping to plant a church at that time. Sure, we knew that our lives weren’t going to be trouble-free just because we loved Jesus, but this?

I muscled up; I needed to be strong for him and our two daughters. It was easier to harden my heart than to wrestle with the why.

Four years later, Bren is still sick, but he never uses it as an excuse to duck out of life. Indeed, his joy in the Lord is miraculous in and of itself. But Bren isn’t the only casualty.

As my heart calloused over, my joy dimmed to the tiniest spark. I became impatient. I laughed less. My creativity was evaporating. In trying to protect myself from the hard conversation with God, the scar tissue started spreading to parts I didn’t foresee.

The other day, my therapist said, “It sounds like you haven’t mourned.” Her comment stopped me in my tracks.

Mourning isn’t reserved solely for the loss of loved ones. We can mourn the loss of dreams, hopes, and expectations. But mourning presents more of a mystery here in the Western world.

When my mother-in-law’s grandmother died, in keeping with Persian tradition, she and her mother wore white for forty straight days. Ancient Jewish tradition prescribed a period of thirty days, during which one shaved their head and put away all finery. Professional mourners, wailing women, would come to your side to mark the occasion. Elders would sit in sackcloth and ashes. The cultural understanding was that mourning takes our time, energy, and spirit. There was no need to lie or pretend you were okay when you weren’t.

King Solomon, who wrote “a time to mourn and a time to dance,” also recognized that mourning was encouraged by God. The beginning of this famous passage struck me:

There is an appointed time for everything . . .
Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NASB)

Like birth and death, every event under the sun is ordained by God. We’re on His schedule. When I dodged my own mourning time, I stepped out of lockstep with Him. God, in His kindness, knew I needed time to process this loss. Who was I to deny what God wanted to give? I dread going to the dark places, so I took comfort knowing I wouldn’t get stuck there because there was an appointed end to it. For those who find comfort in mourning, what an encouragement to move on to the next stage, no matter how intimidating, because God has written the schedule of our lives.

Perhaps the greatest reason to enter a time of mourning is that Jesus waits for us there! Isaiah describes a Messiah who would “comfort all who mourn.” Seven hundred years later, that Messiah declared:

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
Matthew 5:4 (NASB)

Go to Jesus in your mourning, and you will be comforted. That has been my very experience this year. While He hasn’t answered my whys, He has, at least momentarily, settled my heart with His peace.

But how could mourning be a blessing?, I wondered. Well, Isaiah offers a clue:

“I will lead him and restore comfort to him and to his mourners,
Creating the praise of the lips,
Peace, peace to him who is far and to him that is near.”
Isaiah 57:18-19 (NASB)

In being comforted by God, our wails of mourning are transformed into songs of praise. Our mourning becomes our testimony. This is a truth I know from helping many women walk through postpartum depression, a dark valley I’ve traversed twice. He will redeem our time in the darkness.

Sometimes we need the encouragement to mourn. I know I did. And so, if this message resonates with your soul, hear me friend: Run to Jesus and shed your tears in His presence. It’s not self-indulgent. You won’t stay in the dark pit forever. I’m here, in sackcloth and ashes, and while I dreaded it, I’m okay. The Lord waits for me, and in our time together, I can see that someday, He will turn my mourning into dancing. My joy, once a dim candle, is slowly building, and I have hope again.

Crying During a Massage Taught Me About How Our Bodies Hold Grief

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I lay face down on the massage table and let the massage therapist know that, lately, I had a lot of tension in my neck and shoulders but also in my mid-back. She began her good work, taking extra time where the knots felt like rocks under my skin. She suggested I splurge for the ninety-minute deep tissue massage next time, and I sighed out a muffled “mmhmm.”

When she got to the middle of my back and pressed firmly into the muscles behind my ribs, I suddenly began to cry. Tears dripped straight to the floor from my squished face, and I tried hard not to let out a full-on sob and a wail. I didn’t know how to make sense of this unexpected release. Was it sadness? Pain? Grief? Why did that spot feel tender — not only in my body but for my soul?

I remembered reading about how we hold traumas and stress in our bodies and how our bodies, minds, and souls are intricately intertwined with one another. One affects the other, both in pain and in healing.

My marriage was hurting at that time, and every interaction with my husband felt like needles endlessly poking and triggering pain points I’d thought had scabbed over. We were constantly on edge with each other, unable to trust the other as safe. I didn’t have to think long to figure out what the pain was, but it was new and strangely reassuring to me that the tension of my marriage had found its way to my back and lodged itself there.

What I couldn’t fully process or express, what I didn’t know how to fix, every sad, bitter, and angry anguish could somehow be reached, consoled, released. The intangible became tangible. And with the touch of a human hand, I was comforted by a divine one.

Jesus was the physical embodiment of God, and He often touched people when healing them — a leper, a blind man, and Jairus’s daughter, among others. He took the little children into His arms, placed His hands on them, and blessed them. His touch mended wounds, both seen and unseen, and restored wholeness and dignity.

There are times when I wish Jesus could have lived forever with us on earth. Perhaps we could’ve all gotten a chance to experience His touch first hand. But then I think of the expansive reach of the body of Christ — those who profess and live out God’s love as Jesus did — and it makes sense that He left this earth to take His place at the right hand of God and left us with the gift of the Holy Spirit. God with us, always, is in each of us, so that through our words, our presence, our touch, we might also be a balm for others.

Now, when my body aches during painful seasons, I remember that grief isn’t just an emotion — it’s a lived, bodily experience. Jesus Himself must’ve carried grief in His body too, knowing what was to happen to Him. And then, He bore it all on the cross – the ache, the burden, the inconsolable sadness, the raging anger, the maddening injustice, the ugliest and most terrible thoughts and actions of humankind. He bears the scars that tell us He’s held it all in His body and holds us now in our pain.

It’s been several years since I spontaneously cried on the massage table, and since then, there has been more grief and pain than I can count — personally and globally. I know we all hold so much in our bodies, whether we know it or not. So when the aches happen, when fatigue and weariness weigh us down, I hope we can be gentle with ourselves, knowing that Jesus bore it all and helps us bear what we must too.

Lessons from a Sickbed on How to Ask and Receive

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The week of Thanksgiving found me feeling not so thankful. I didn’t have plans to spend the day anywhere, so there were already emotions surrounding that. Then I got sick. A simple cold took me out. I found myself in bed for the entire week. I slept and slept and slept some more. I was miserable.

Sick and alone was in no way a part of my plan. Yet, here I was. For the most part, I actually love being single. I love the freedom to make my own choices and to do what I want and go where I want. But one thing I loathe about being single is that I have to make every decision and take care of myself. When I get sick, it’s just me.

Many tears were shed, and I felt weak and exhausted. I didn’t have any strength to believe the truth even though I knew it. Instead, I had an all-out pity party for myself. I sent out invites, and depression and hopelessness showed up with bells on.

I rehearsed all the standards lies: I’m alone. I’m unloved. I’m unseen. They played on a loop, and I allowed the voice of the enemy to grow louder than the voice of God.

Though I would’ve normally kept all my pain and struggle to myself, the Lord prompted me to share about how I was doing with my church and to ask for prayer. And then the church did what it’s supposed to do — be the hands and feet of Christ to me.

Multiple texts and phone calls began to come in to check on me. One friend brought me a Thanksgiving meal. Another brought me homemade chicken noodle soup. And my pastor’s wife brought me more soup and electrolytes. I was blown away by the love of God through their care for me.

Reaching out for help isn’t easy, but it is always worth it.

Galatians 6:10 says, “So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.”

My church took this verse and ran with it when I needed them — they always do. They live out this verse in more ways than I can count.

As I received the care from my church family that I so needed, I realized that I had been so focused on myself and on how lonely I was. I’d become fixated on the lies and unmet expectations, wallowing in them. And without the Lord’s nudging, I probably would’ve kept my struggle to myself and relied on my own strength instead of relying on God and on others.

But God revealed to me that this was pride and not faith. I believed I had to do it all myself, that I couldn’t depend on anyone. I didn’t even expect Him to provide for me.

James 4:6 says, “He gives more grace. Therefore it says, ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.'”

I was humbled both in needing to reach out to my community and in receiving their care. Through it, I experienced God’s grace and again learned how much I need to rely on Him, abide in Him, and commune with Him and the body of Christ.

So this year, I want to put my focus upward and dwell in the Lord’s presence more. I want to grow in intimacy and fellowship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I want to trust Him and witness more of how He moves in and through the church.

I know I am not alone in this, and neither are you. There is grace for us all when we humble ourselves, open our hands, and receive.

How have you experienced the grace of God when you’ve reached out to others during a hard season?

 

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When You Feel Unsteady, Take Your Time and Take It Slow

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I grinned country-mile wide as my friend, Jen, told me about her neighborhood’s propensity for playing practical jokes on one another. The entire gang good-naturedly gave as well as they got, and one time they got Jen and her family especially good.

The shenanigans were discovered on a late summer evening when Jen, her husband, and her three kids returned home from a family vacation. Jen, first through the front door, stepped into the dark entryway of their house. As she walked the familiar path from the entryway toward the living room to turn on a light, she startled herself by running right into a piece of furniture. Thrown for a loop, she immediately slowed her pace and felt around for what blocked her path. It appeared to be the coffee table.

“What in the world?” Jen said out loud. “Why is that here?”

After walking around the coffee table and stumbling into an armchair, she finally reached an end table holding a lamp. She turned it on, and then her mouth dropped open. While she and her family vacationed, the neighbors had snuck inside their home and played furniture Tetris by completely rearranging their living room sofa, tables, and chairs.

Grinning wryly, Jen took in the scene before her as her family members trickled in. They stared at the same room with their belongings, but everything was situated in an entirely new way — even the rugs and kids’ toys were in unfamiliar locations. Until they could either get used to the new arrangement or put everything back the way it was, Jen and her family had to walk around that room a little differently, a little more slowly.

When you walk through a new season of change, isn’t it much the same? Until you get used to the new lay of the land, you must take your time and take it slow.

In her book, The Art of Slow Writing, author Louise DeSalvo talks about how after 9/11, many novelists had to relearn how to work and write. She says, “When our lives change, when the world changes, we must reinvent ourselves as writers.”

I definitely felt that life change after 9/11, especially since we lived on a military base at the time. More recently, we’re all navigating another major event: the pandemic. With it, I can see how once again we’ve had to reinvent how we move about in our work and play.

This is true for any of us walking through a new season, writer or not. In a way, we must reinvent ourselves as we maneuver lives that look so foreign from before. At the very least, we must get used to the new circumstances and move around them differently.

This doesn’t mean you won’t have to move quickly through some of the changes your new season brings. But it does mean you will need to give your heart the time it takes to process through these changes. It means you will not shame or talk down to yourself for taking this time. Change can move our bodies into new territory, and it may take our hearts and souls a little time to catch up. We must give ourselves the gift of rest for this to happen.

We must resist the urge to rush towards panic as we refuse to move through this season alone.

In the quiet of the morning or the still of the evening or the calm before the storm of the 3:15 p.m. carpool line, we can take time to sit in the presence of Jesus in this new stage of life. As we do so, we can consider a Scripture reference that reflects God’s promises:

This is what the Lord says — he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters . . .
Isaiah 43:16-17 (NIV)

There’s no obstacle change brings that God does not bring a way through. There’s no change we encounter that God is not master over. There’s no season we experience that He doesn’t provide us with endurance.

We may have babies graduating kindergarten or high school and mothers or grandmothers moving into nursing homes. We might have job transitions and family transitions that require must-do steps and things to prepare. But one thing we don’t have to do is to rush our hearts and souls through this season. Do what you need to do on the outside, but let God do His good work on the inside in His good timing. Hear Him speak to your heart: When you’re tempted to despair about this change, just reorient your heart’s location to Me because I never, ever change.

This is no joke: As difficult change comes into your life, Jesus walks with you through it. Take your time with Him and take it slow. You don’t need to stumble or trip your way toward the Light. The Light is right beside you, illuminating the way one step at a time.

 

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State of (in)courage 2022

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Dear sisters,

We are twelve days into 2022, and I’ve got a hunch some of you are taking in a deep breath full of hope for every joyful possibility in the new year. And some of you are barely inhaling as the weight of what has been or what is to come presses down. I feel both — depending on the moment. Whether you are full of faith or fear, sorrow or celebration, or a jumble of it all, I want you to know that you are welcome in this place. Just as you are.

Our biggest prayer is that Jesus will meet you here.

Whether you’ve just stumbled upon (in)courage or you’ve been hanging out with us for more than a decade (raise your hand, (in) sister lifers!), we want you to know who we are and what we’re crazy excited about (in) 2022!

Empowered to Be Like Jesus
Here’s the deal: (in)courage isn’t here to preach more self-empowerment because what we really need is God-empowerment. If you’re caring for toddlers or aging parents, working a nine-to-five, volunteering at church, or enduring a chronic illness, if you’re single or married, living in your sweet spot or walking through a crisis, we all need Jesus. We need God’s Spirit to help us have that hard conversation, to make that impossible decision, to take that scary next step forward. We need Someone beyond ourselves. The good news is, He’s here! Every woman can live empowered by the strength Jesus gives through the Holy Spirit. By His power, we can live out the calling He has for our lives. That might mean pursuing a big dream or just making it through a regular Wednesday morning. Every hour we need Him. Let’s see more of Jesus and be more like Jesus this year! (Stay tuned for some practical resources we have coming soon to help you do just this!)

The Daily (in)courage Podcast
Get out your virtual drum set and roll those sticks because we are thrilled to announce our new daily (in)courage podcast! Each weekday, the article you read here will also be available as a podcast. That’s right! Like always, you can enjoy our daily post right here on the website, and now, you can also listen as our narrator, Grace P. Cho, reads it to you! You can expect our thirty writers to keep showing up with brand new stories about their everyday lives and how God’s right in the middle of it all. We each bring our unique experiences — joys and struggles equally — so that you’ll feel less alone and be empowered by the hope Jesus gives. We pray that through these stories you hear more of God’s heart for you. The (in)courage daily podcast is the perfect companion while putting on your makeup, commuting to work, or waiting in the carpool line. Listen every weekday right here at incourage.me or on your favorite podcast player.

Create in Me a (new) Heart Bible Studies
Over the next eighteen months, we want to invite you to join us on an eighteen-month journey through FOUR NEW Bible studies! Living empowered to be like Jesus begins with the Holy Spirit’s work in each of our hearts. He wants to create in us a new heart that embodies His hope, peace, wisdom, and mercy. When we have a heart more like God, we are then able to be His difference-makers in our hurting homes and fractured world. You are absolutely going to love these powerful studies! We’ll be sharing more about these studies in the months to come.

(Insert awkward giddy jig because I’m just so stinkin’ excited about what God is doing in our midst and all the goodness He has planned for us this year. What a joy to partner with Him!)

A couple more quick things, especially for any (in)courage newbies. You should know that (in)courage is part of DaySpring, which means we have inspirational products to help you live your faith. We also have a rich library of books and devotionals that will help you live like Jesus and remind you that you’re not alone. And we love connecting with you on social media — find us on Instagram and Facebook!

Lastly, friends, we want to make sure you know that we’re a community of women of different ages, life stages, and cultural backgrounds. We all look different, enjoy different church traditions, have different favorite foods, and we don’t all agree — well, on almost anything. But at the end of the day, the one thing that connects us is Jesus! So if you love Jesus and want to grow in Him or if you just want to know what it could look like to live with greater hope and purpose each day, you’re in the right place. Thanks for being here.

— Becky Keife, (in)courage community manager

I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is.
Ephesians 3:16-18 (NLT)

 

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Brighten the Corner Where You Are

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When the pandemic hit in early 2020, my small business, like so many others, was turned on its head. All of my live events (my primary revenue stream at the time) were canceled, and my husband was furloughed. I felt in my heart that the traveling road show season of my business was coming to an end, and as much as I loved it and was going to miss that season, I loved being home with my young son more. I prayed and asked God to lead me to whatever was next and to make very clear what I should do about my business. As we focused more and more on online product sales, my inventory started to spill from the bonus room above our garage into our guest room, attic, dining room, and then into the garage itself. I knew in my heart that we had outgrown my home office, and my patient husband was not so subtly wanting his garage spot back.

In that moment, God led me right to what would one day be the future home of my business, a former doctor’s office that had been abandoned and was in desperate need of repair. A fixer upper was putting it lightly, but where most saw a mess, I saw a future masterpiece.

As I talk about in my books (Betty Confetti and Happy Hand Lettering), I am all about turning a mess into a message and mistakes into confetti. I could tell you dozens of stories about the signs I witnessed in that building, even on my first walkthrough. Same college, same name, same house number, and if I wasn’t a believer, I could have easily written them off as coincidence. But instead I knew with all my heart that they were just little nudges of reassurance from the Lord that I was exactly where He wanted me to be. God doesn’t give me a handful of confetti all at once; I seem to collect one piece at a time. Little by little, slow and steady, on His timeline and not mine, it always seems to come together.

My dad is a contractor, so for more than thirteen months, he and I got to work together side by side, hammering and nailing and sawing and building my dreams by hand. This father/daughter duo, aptly named Confetti Construction Company, completely renovated and restored the building, an eighty-year-old town landmark, to its new (and colorful) glory as the home of my company, All She Wrote Notes. I wouldn’t trade this time working with my dad for anything in the world. It’s been one of my life’s greatest joys and a gift that I know came straight from my Father in heaven.

As with many construction jobs, it’s always more work than you think it will be, and we ended up having to completely gut and restore the building from the foundation to the roof. I worked alongside my dad, learning and laughing every week as we made progress. Since so much demo work was required, for a long time it felt like we had to go backwards before we could move forward. But all along, I was reminded that we were building it back on a stronger foundation than it was before — in more ways than one. I constantly prayed for guidance and direction, trusting the Lord to reveal the next step and the next how of His perfect timing. Nobody has ever called me patient a day in my life, and if I had known at the beginning of the process how long it was going to take, I probably would have said no. But I’m so glad I just walked in faith and trusted that it would be ready whenever it was meant to be ready.

Right before we installed the sheetrock, I went around with both of my parents and wrote some of our favorite Scripture passages in the walls. My favorite, at our checkout counter, is from Luke 16:10 — “Whoever is faithful with little will also be faithful with much.” It fills me with joy to know that God’s words are buried here beneath our very foundation and that everyone who gets to visit us here will be surrounded by His presence.

The mural I hand-lettered on the side of my building says, “Brighten the corner where you are.” You may remember that as an old hymn or camp song — all about shining the light of Jesus right where you are. So how can He use you today? You don’t have to build a colorful building or an online following. You can brighten your corner by choosing praise and positivity every single day, right where you are. Ask God to help you shine His light today.

—

Are you hopeful for some hope?

There are times in life when it’s easy to be joyful, and there are other times when, well, it’s just hard to see the good in anything. Life circumstances come at us fast, and before we even realize it, we start going through our days with an unseen heaviness that weighs on our souls and minds.

In her new book, 100 Days of Praise and Positivity, Maghon leads you through uplifting devotions, encouraging Bible verses, fun hand-lettering exercises, and more — all to remind you of the One who longs to refresh your spirit and renew your heart and mind.

Order your copy today and enter to WIN one of five copies that we’re giving away! Leave a comment telling us about how you move towards a positive, praise-based mindset and you’ll be entered to win.

Then join Maghon and Becky for a chat all about 100 Days of Praise & Positivity! Tune in tomorrow on our Facebook page at 11am central for their conversation.

Giveaway open to US addresses only and closes on 1/14/21 at 11:59pm central.

 

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

Where Our Everyday Meets His Glory

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A few weeks ago (Thanksgiving week, to be exact), I wrote a few thoughts on Instagram before heading to bed. I hit publish, sending it to Facebook too, plugged my phone in, and picked up my nightly crossword book. The next morning, I woke to those thoughts being shared thousands and thousands of times, messages pouring in, and comments flying into the threads.

In my fourteen years of online writing, I’ve never had a post take off like that.

Here’s what I said in that post:

Can we normalize things like builder grade oak cabinets? Kids wearing regular clothes that they half chose themselves? Leftover meat slapped on a hamburger bun because it’s Thanksgiving week and they’re not allowed to eat any of the food in the fridge? Fingerprints and dog nose smudges on the sliding door that’s been missing its handle since we moved in five years ago?

I’m team normalize dry shampoo a day too long. Team breath prayers of gratitude and not hour-long “quiet times.” Team paper plates. Team belly up at the island because the dining room table is covered in art projects and school papers and books and crusty Play-doh.

Let’s normalize un-curated anything except a fave Spotify playlist. Normalize crawling in bed at 8:30 to do crosswords for two hours. Normalize well intentioned and barely executed. Normalize four Target pickups in a week because the list keeps growing and something is always forgotten.

Let’s normalize the actual normal. That’s where all the good stuff lives anyway.

This is a pretty standard message for me. To be clear, I’m saying all of the above is normal, and yet it often isn’t normalized (shared, embraced, spoken about, etc.). I’ve never shied away from sharing real life lived and encouraging others to seek the extraordinary in their everyday. But something about this one hit just right, I guess. Maybe it was the mention of builder grade oak, the shade of honey yellow all too rarely showcased on Instagram feeds full of white cabinets. Maybe it was the timing right at the start of the holiday season, when everyone else’s perfection is on display and it’s all too tempting to jump in with our own unrealistic expectations. Maybe it was the “well intentioned and barely executed” line that seemed to resonate deeply with so many.

Whatever it was, it took off. Honestly, I got a little stage fright and didn’t pick up my phone for social media for several days. I made my husband look at the numbers whenever I got curious because I was sure there were going to be mean comments, and truly, despite the nature of an online platform, I don’t enjoy being the center of attention.

Of course not all of the hundreds and hundreds of comments were kind. It’s all too easy online to be unkind, quick to judge, and just plain rude. But the vast majority of comments and reactions were of the “me too” variety. So many others chimed in with their own stories of real-life living, of kids choosing their own clothes, of dry shampoo one day too long and paper plate suppers.

And while these are really small things, they add up to one richly lived life.

It made me think of Jesus, actually, as most things end up doing. It made me think of His real life, lived richly from its humble beginning. It made me think of the time His family left Him behind in the temple and how entirely relatable that story is. (Well, relatable to a point: They found Him teaching in the Temple, and His family didn’t miss Him for three days because they were traveling with so many relatives. They figured He was somewhere in their crew. But still! Pretty darn relatable!) It made me think of the meals Jesus shared with friends and how He got angry and sad and lonely. It reminded me that Jesus was a carpenter or stonemason, working with rough hands and carting around tools and materials and that I wish we knew more about His handcrafting. Did He enjoy His trade? Did He ever make small gift items for friends and family, or was He a big-projects-only kind of builder? What was His favorite meal at the end of the day?

It’s these human aspects of Jesus that my mind grapples with because the deity part of Him, though completely interwoven with His humanity, is overwhelming in its complexity. The human part, though, I can at least form reactions to and questions about.

Fully God. Fully man. The Holy Child we just celebrated at Christmas, mere weeks ago.

And maybe the point is that we can keep all the wonder, the celebration, the questions, and adoration going in our ordinary days, long after the cookies are gone and the tinsel tossed out.

Maybe we relate so deeply to posts like mine above because we do need to normalize feeling big feelings and sharing the everyday, ordinary aspects of our lives. Maybe grappling with the mundane, living life alongside beloved friends and family, going to work, and living for the will of our Father is more relatable than we think.

And what a gift that Jesus did the very same things. What a thoughtful and kind Creator God we have that He would send His Son here for us to know this — even now, thousands of years after His life, death, and resurrection.

As we keep stepping into a new year, let’s also keep telling the stories — stories of our normal, regular stuff. Stories of our extraordinary, holy, and human Jesus. And let’s especially keep telling the stories of where our everyday meets His glory.


Friends, we have BIG NEWS. Beginning today, you can listen to an audio version of each weekday article at (in)courage! Yes! Every weekday you’ll find a player embedded right into the post like the one above, and each daily episode will also be available wherever you stream podcasts. We could not be more excited to kick this off! Each episode is narrated by our editorial manager Grace P. Cho and produced by our friends at DaySpring. We hope you’ll bring us along with you on your morning walks, driving to the grocery store, waiting in the preschool pickup line, alone in your kitchen, or as you wind down for the evening. Wherever you join us, you’re welcome here, and we’re honored to be a part of your day.

Giving Grace Even to Those Who Might Not Deserve It

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This past year, I chose to host a Christmas table at our church holiday brunch. I decorated it with miniature plastic pine trees from home and borrowed battery-operated candles from the table next to mine (probably because the sweet lady saw how sparse my table was looking). It wasn’t fancy or formal, but it was fitting for our church ladies.

I was the host. I grabbed coffees and treats and offered a friendly welcome to all who circled around my centerpiece. A gal sat down beside me whom I’d never met before — Elizabeth. She was new, and I struck up a casual conversation with her. Even though we’d just met, we quickly realized we had many connections. She knew my mom years ago when they worked in the same field together finding homes for international college students.

Gradually, more women found their place at my table, and the introductions began. “What are you doing for the holidays? What are your favorite Christmas movies? How many children do you have?” Then my mom sat down beside Elizabeth. They began chatting and catching up on the years that had gone by. Before I knew it, I heard my mom say to Elizabeth, “You should give an announcement!”

What was my mom up to? 

I saw her leap up and run over to the coordinator of our Christmas event. Elizabeth leaned over and whispered, “Your mom wants me to make an announcement about my business,” she said nervously. As the morning brunch ended, sure enough, the new visitor at our church, Elizabeth, was up on stage giving an announcement about her small business. 

I packed up my fake Christmas trees, returned the borrowed lights, and walked out to my car with my box of stuff and my mom beside me. We reflected on the morning.

“I’ve been praying for ways to give Elizabeth grace for years,” my mom gleefully said. She went on to explain how when they had been in business together, Elizabeth had been unkind to her. She had spoken poorly about my mom, mistreated her, and lacked respect. Since then, like a kid on Christmas morning, she had been eagerly waiting for ways to bless her. 

I left that morning completely undone by my mom’s actions. I am an author. I have grown a community of women whom I write for, encourage, and love — many of whom are right here in this (in)courage community. Essentially, I have built a platform. If there was an author who I knew had spoken poorly about me, disrespected me, or been downright mean, I’m not sure I would pray for ways to give her grace. I’m certain I would not give her my platform to use.

If someone hurts me, I am quick to wish harm upon them. I am tempted to return the pain they caused me by putting them down or lashing out in anger. I don’t pray for them. Praying blessing upon others (especially those who have hurt me) is incredibly hard. Praying for my enemy feels impossible, but it’s what changes my heart from bitterness to grace.

I think my mom was able to love this woman who had hurt her because she had prayed for her. My mom gave Elizabeth her platform to use. She used her connections and gave her a microphone to share about her small business. This is undeserved grace — which, I suppose, is the definition of grace, isn’t it?

Grace is an undeserved gift, but I have a tendency to reserve grace for the “good” people — you know, the people who, for the most part, are kind and easy. I hold back when it actually requires something of me and especially when I need to give it to those who have hurt me, betrayed me, and shamed me. Then it seems more like foolishness.

To give grace to my enemy is backward, but so are the ways of Christ.

Christ says things like, “The last shall be first, love your enemies, pray blessings upon those who have been against you.” We are all undeserving of grace. Yes, even the best of us don’t deserve the loving gift of God. The truth is there is no such thing as “the best of us.” We all fall miserably short.

So as this year unfolds, I want to release my mental list of who deserves grace and who doesn’t because we’re all desperate for it. I am praying for how to give grace to those who have hurt me and to see how I can lift others up. How can I give what I have (my platform, my home, my things) to be a means for grace? How can I love the way God does? We all need the grace of God to scoop us up and give us secure ground to stand on. We all need His grace to give grace to others. 

Why Dare to Try a New Thing? Do It for God

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I’m sitting in my sister-in-law’s dining room, tapping away on my keyboard while admiring a massive poinsettia plant — its red flowers abloom — still adorning her long table.

My husband Dan and I are her house guests, and during the holiday part of our visit, she had apologized several times for not putting out Christmas decorations per usual. So no gigantic tree with lights and ornaments. No garlands along the staircase. No porcelain angels and other pretty holiday knickknacks on every other surface.

Instead, during these challenging times, she’d settled on something new. Thus, the poinsettia instead of a Christmas tree. And the feeling to her? “Liberating.”

I can relate because I also did a new thing in the past year. I added entertainment writing to my writing tool box, surprised to discover that by doing this new thing, I was freed to do it for God.

I didn’t see it that way at first. Instead, I started writing a fictional story — a new path for me — because I heard our gentle Jesus say this: Fear not (John 14:27).

It’s the first step to taking a scary risk — especially when trying something new. So, with God’s help, I tried a new thing during the pandemic summer of 2020, and now I’m a humbled author of a fledgling Christian mystery series.

I took it on, in fact, with absolutely zero expectations. I told my husband, “If nothing comes of this, that’s okay. It’s more important that I tried.”

To be honest, however, I did want something of consequence to come of it. But if it all came to naught, the trying was what mattered. I felt sure of that and still do. Our trying glorifies God. As Jesus said in His Sermon on the Mount, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16).

So, the second step of trying a new thing? Giving ourselves permission.

We get that go-ahead from God Himself. In His wisdom, the Lord made a way for His people “through the sea, a path through the mighty waters” of the Red Sea — a mighty deliverance (Isaiah 43:16).

But then the surprise? Forget those things, He says. As the Lord, through Isaiah, tells them in verses 18-19:

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” 

Regarding this warning, the New Living Translation minces no words when it comes to moving forward by not looking back:

“Forget all that — it is nothing compared to what I am going to do. For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun. Do you not see it?”

It’s one of the most remarkable reminders in all of the Bible. First, forget former things, including victories, triumphs, ups and downs. Then, fan the fire for something new. Don’t know how it’s going to pan out? Dream about it anyway — bravely, to move forward. Then, work on it, if you dare.

The most important reminder, however? Do our new thing for God.

As Isaiah prophesied, our Creator God is “making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland . . . to give drink to my people, my chosen, the people I formed for myself” (Isaiah 43:19-20).

Why?

“That they may proclaim my praise” (Isaiah 43:21).

Don’t you see it?, the Lord asks us. Can’t you visualize it? Does your vision board depict not what you can do by yourself but what God alone can do?

In the end, trying something new isn’t to promote ourselves to God’s kingdom but to help make God more known. So, if you’re looking for a reason to try something new in 2022, pointing people to God — by doing a new thing that requires His strength and courage — is the best reason to even try.

That’s how I feel working on the next mystery novel. It requires so much from me — a vision and courage that I can’t stir up on my own — that it surely will point people not to me but to the Lord.

Now, what is a new thing that challenges you in that way? What will you try in 2022 that will show off the Lord making a new way in your wilderness, its parched riverbeds overflowing with streams of living water?

Is your new thing good and difficult but wonderful? Do you need God to make it happen? Dive in and try.

Patricia’s historical mystery, All That Is Secret, was selected by Colorado Public Radio as its next “Turn the Page” book club pick for February. Register here to join Patricia for the free virtual book talk on Tuesday, February 8 at 8 p.m. EST.

When You Don’t Get to Finish What You Started

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Breezes from the front porch encircled us as I stood with the family who was buying our farm. I listened to their plans and shared with them about this special place they were moving into. I wanted them to know God had built it, what He had taught me about dwelling with Him, and how I had prayed for them.

And then the moment happened.

The wife commented how she couldn’t wait to host her women’s church group on the big front porch. I should have been excited that God had answered my prayers for our farm to be handed off to kingdom-minded people, but my heart fell.

The buyer was going to do the very things I had hoped to do but never got to see to fruition. God had given me so many ideas for our farm, and that had been one of them. As I returned to packing boxes, I wanted to cry.

I immediately felt like a failure, followed by jealousy and disappointment in myself and, if I’m honest, in God. I was left curious why I had missed the opportunity to complete the vision He’d started with me.

Years before, God had planted the idea of our farm in my heart, and we searched for land for six years before He provided our very own promised land. Then, He gave us the chance to restore an ugly property with Him. We spent years cleaning up the property, building a home, and planting seeds. And we experienced many miracles in the process.

I never anticipated that I wouldn’t get to experience the entirety of the vision He’d revealed to me. It never crossed my mind that I would only be a part of the beginning of that vision and would have to pass the baton on to another to complete it.

Weeks after that front porch conversation, we were moved out, and I was deep cleaning the house. As I scrubbed baseboards and toilets, I chose to pray for the new owners, thank God for the good and hard we had experienced in this place, and finally come clean to Him about the feelings I had.

I told Him it felt unfair for Him to share the vision with me and then for me not to be able to see it to completion.

God was kind to listen while I complained about how He was working His plan. His Spirit was gentle but honest, revealing to me that this wasn’t the first time He’d asked me to pass on the baton in the middle of His vision for my life.

When I co-founded (in)courage with Holley Gerth more than a decade ago, I assumed I’d be in my role for years to come. So I was shocked when just nine months after launching, God asked me to resign and start my own business.

What would happen to the vision and ideas He had given me for (in)courage? I wanted to be part of all God was doing. But over the years, He has brought different women to lead this special place and has always made it clear that nothing is reliant upon me or any other person — only Him.

God is so kind to have a vision for something in our lives and to share it with us. But it’s up to Him what our role is and for how long He wants to work through us on that vision.

It’s very rare for the person that God shares His specific vision with to be the one to see it through to completion. I’m hard pressed to find many stories in the Bible where God’s people were gifted with experiencing both the beginning and the end of God’s plan. Usually each person plays a key role, but only a part.

  • Abraham didn’t see the nations, just the stars.
  • Moses didn’t dwell in the promised land but stood in awe of it.
  • David didn’t build the temple, but he raised the son that would.
  • Isaiah didn’t witness the King of kings’ birth, but he saw His light.
  • Esther didn’t release God’s people from captivity, but she saved their lives.
  • Even Jesus didn’t see the church go to the ends of the earth, but He finished what He was sent for.

Not seeing the completion of God’s vision doesn’t diminish my part but encourages me to have faith in His power to finish what He starts and helps me to go with the flow of the Holy Spirit.

With (in)courage, I knew God had called certain women at specific times to lead in my place. I have the privilege of watching His original vision unfold twelve years later. And now, with our farm, God brought the next woman to fulfill more of the vision He’s designed her for. It’s truly the body of Christ each playing their role in working out what God has planned.

Will you join me in being open to God’s role and timing for you? He may be asking you to join Him in a vision for the first time or to turn your current role over to another and open a new chapter so you both can serve His kingdom. He’s asking each of us to work together for the greater good and for His vision to be completed. Let’s be flexible with our expectations and timelines and trust that His ways are greater.

How Desperation Can Make Room for Miracles

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I had a very bad fourth grade teacher.

I transferred from the elementary school I’d attended my entire little life and moved to a new school in the middle of the school year. This school was an academically advanced school, and in the first week, it was apparent I was completely in over my head.

I hadn’t learned any of the math at my last school that everyone in this class had mastered. Mrs. B proclaimed to the rest of the class, “No, we can’t move on because Kathi hasn’t mastered the basics yet.” It was humiliating to be called out in front of the whole class, and at the same time being told we, as a class of thirty-two students, couldn’t move on to the next math book because I wasn’t “getting it.”

Mrs. B called my mom in for a conference to tell her I should probably not be in her class and should be put in a remedial class or go back to third grade.

I was no star student at my last school, but I had held my own and read about every book in the library. So when Mrs. B used words like “stupid,” my mom wasn’t standing for it. Mom insisted I get standardized testing. Mrs. B wouldn’t send in the request for it, so my normally just-go-along mom made a beeline to the principal to insist I get tested.

The results? I was given ways to get caught up in math. Plus, I was sent to the extra program for “gifted and talented” students. It wasn’t that I couldn’t learn; I just hadn’t been given the opportunity — yet.

Mrs. B. continued to resent my presence in her class. And my mom continued to fight for me on every front so I would not be labeled (by myself or others) because of one bad teacher.

When it was time for my little brother to be placed in the same class, my mom was having none of that. She grabbed her sleeping bag and camped out in a long line at the new elementary school to make sure my brother would get a slot. The sleeping bag ploy worked. The same year I graduated from elementary school, my brother transferred, and our family never had to deal with Mrs. B ever again.

Oh, the things we will do when we are desperate.

Those actions — taking her case to the principal, insisting on getting me tested, and camping out overnight in front of an elementary school — remind me that sometimes we need to take extreme action to get extreme results.

My mom’s actions told me I was worth fighting for — that my little child heart and mind were worth protecting from someone who was probably going through her own stuff but wasn’t emotionally trustworthy with the soul of a child.

My mom reminds me of my favorite woman in the Bible — the bleeding woman.

As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him. And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years, but no one could heal her. She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.
Luke 8:42-44 (NIV)

Why is she my favorite? Because she took desperate actions and advocated for her own life.

Other parts of the gospel say the woman with the issue of blood had spent all her money on doctors and healers.

She had been bleeding for years.

She had been sick for years.

She was out of time.

She was out of money.

She was out of energy.

And this desperate woman needed a miracle.

So she did what would have been unthinkable (especially in her time) and literally pushed people out of the way to be able to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment.

There are times when we try everything we know to do. We try the polite way. We try the socially acceptable way. And then, like my mom and the bleeding woman, there are times when we need to do the not socially acceptable thing, to push other things out of the way.

And, like the bleeding woman, often it’s time to run straight to Jesus.

When it comes to advocating for my own health, for the well-being of the people I love, I need to be less concerned with the temporary, perceived comfort of others and be more focused on the heart of Christ in all things.

Sometimes, when all our other options are taken away, we have to be that woman who clings to Jesus, in front of everyone else, beyond all reason.

Desperate looks different for all of us. For some of us, it means taking your case to the principal or camping out in front of a school overnight. For others, it’s putting aside what society thinks is the right way to do things and pushing others out of the way and going straight to the hem of Jesus.

Have you found yourself in a desperate situation recently? What sort of opposition do you need to push out of the way to get to Jesus?

Need to push away overwhelm? An Abundant Place is a daily retreat for women who can’t get away.

That Time the Gospel Showed Up in a Dressing Room

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It was right there, with fluorescent lights shining and half a dozen tops hanging on the rack, that I froze in a department store dressing room. Over the Christmas music playing through the speakers, I could hear two voices in the room to my left. A niece and an aunt? A daughter and her mother? A teenager and her grandmother? I’ll never know, but I hope I never forget what the older woman firmly — and yet kindly — said.

“Now, remember, this is a gift. All you have to do is receive it.”

Tears prick my eyes even now, writing such a simple sentence. It’s more than the generosity of the words or the thoughtful reminder. It’s the gospel, right there in a dressing room.

Perhaps God said the same to us, to all of humanity, as heaven touched earth and the glory of God was covered with skin, a baby placed in a manger as angels sang in the skies above.

Can you picture the baby in the manger gripping Mary’s fingers, toddling around the house, growing up and playing games with the children next door, learning the family trade under Joseph’s watchful eye?

Can you picture the man who calmed the threatening storm, the One who bent low in the dirt to love the outcast, the friend that little children wanted to spend time with, the man who danced at weddings and wept when His friend passed away?

Can you picture Him there in the Garden of Gethsemane, choosing to stay instead of flee, even though He knew with all certainty what was to come? Can you see Him forgiving the deep betrayal of a dear friend, forgiving the ones who tortured Him, forgiving me and forgiving you?

A gift, a gift, a gift . . .

All of it, every day and every breath, a gift.

We’re in between Christmas and Easter now, and it won’t be long before we turn our attention to the reminder of Lent, the hope of spring, and the joy of celebrating a stone that was rolled away as death died once and for all.

But here, as a new year begins to unfold and every newsfeed fills with words about goals and resolutions and to-do lists, I’m sticking with the truth of a simple sentence that has the gospel written all over it.

Now, remember, this is a gift. All you have to do is receive it.

There is no accomplishment to strive for, no resume to build, no rung to reach for that could bring you even one centimeter closer to Him. Emmanuel is right here, with us forevermore, and nothing you do or don’t do this year could make Him love you even one iota more than He already does.

It’s a startling truth in today’s culture, and yet the most abundant gift: God’s love for you isn’t dependent on you (Ephesians 2:8-9). It isn’t tied to your progress or accomplishments, your bank account or the number of likes on your last Instagram post.⁣ You don’t have to be better, clean yourself up, check all the boxes, or have the right answers.

The things you do matter. Your words matter, your work matters, the way you treat those around you (and those on the other side of the screen, too) matters. But if it all disappears in an instant, if you make a mistake today or really mess up tomorrow, God’s love for you will not change, and His grace isn’t going anywhere.

You would not be a disappointment. You would not be called Less Than or labeled Not Good Enough.⁣ You would be named Beloved, Chosen, Wanted, Daughter.

There’s nothing wrong with setting a goal or making a resolution for the new year! Just don’t forget that the greatest of all gifts is already marked “paid in full.”

The One who made you and named you declared you to be worth it all before you had done anything at all.

The gift is yours for the accepting. It already has your name on it.

As a wise woman once said in a brightly lit dressing room, all of you have to do is receive it.

For more hope-filled encouragement, free lock screens for your phone, and book recommendations from Kaitlyn, follow her on Instagram!

What’s Your Word for the Coming Year?

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I wonder if we’d be so gung-ho about New Year’s resolutions if January didn’t come so quickly after December.

The holiday season, with all its fun and festivities and fa-la-las, also gives us obligations, stress, and bullet lists (or credit card bills) a mile long. And after pushing ourselves to exhaustion or gorging ourselves on red and green candies (No, YOU ate an entire bag of peanut M&Ms in one day!), the idea of a new day, month, year is more than a breath of fresh air. It’s a gulp of oxygen as we feel ourselves drowning in year-end excess and (often unmet) expectations.

But before we start a list of all the many, many ways we’re going to be better, do more, work harder or smarter — or both! — this year, let’s take a time out. Let’s breathe in deep our clean calendars and pretty paper journals, and let’s boil all our best intentions and goals and ambitions down a little.

I don’t know about you, but I know that this time of year, as we put 2021 behind us and look forward to whatever may come in 2022, I’m tempted to forget everything I’ve learned in the past twelve months (and every year before). My knees feel weak at the thought of a few more bullet points, and I get a little breathless as I organize all my hopes and dreams and plans into the most perfect outline or spreadsheet you’ve ever seen.

Yeah, it’s true. I totally get a crush on New Year’s resolutions, the bad boy of all goal-setting strategies, the one I swear off every year because he’ll just end up hurting me. That one. Yes, I fall for his charm (The possibilities! The potential!) every time.

And that’s why I come back to DaySpring’s Word of the Year.

DaySpring’s Word of the Year encourages us to forget resolutions and instead, focus on just ONE word. The idea is that we focus on this one word every day, all year long — one word that sums up who we want to be or how we want to live. DaySpring’s Word of the Year is what snaps me out of my dreamy resolution fog and grounds me — not just in January but every month of the year.

Whether I’m brainstorming writing topics and business ideas, pinning recipes to try and crafts to make, or identifying all the ways I need to do more, work harder, and be better, I easily lose my mind first in the more!-more!-more! approach to making my lists and then moving towards the overwhelmed, I-can’t-possibly-do-any-of-this, I’m-going-to-hide-under-the-covers reaction to my lists in the face of reality.

Focusing on just one word for the year keeps me centered, and it leaves me a whole lot more successful and satisfied with life. Especially because when I force myself to funnel my hopes and goals for an entire year into a single word or phrase, I also force myself to focus on what truly matters and what will make an eternal difference in my life and the lives of those I care about.

See? Way more satisfying than pretending like this is the year I’m going to start flossing every day.

This article was written by Mary Carver, (in)courage writer.

We’re excited to share with you a fun, EASY way to kick off your new year — the Word of The Year quiz from DaySpring! The seven simple questions will lead you to one word that will remind you of God’s truth all year long and inspire you to live your faith every day.

Click here to take the short 7-question quiz and find your word — nothing overwhelming about that! Once you have your word, download the graphic that goes with your word and share it on social media. Be sure to tag @incourage so we can cheer you on!

Then come back here and share your word in the comments, along with what it means to you. As an added bonus, we’re giving one lucky commenter* a $100 shopping spree to DaySpring.com!

Whether you’re reluctant to begin or you’re chomping at the bit to enter the new year, we’re here to cheer you on in the good things God has for you in 2022.

Let’s lean into truth together. What’s your word?

 

*Giveaway open to US addresses only until 1/7/2022. Winner will be selected at random and notified via email.