A Truth for Today and Everyday: God Wastes Nothing

A Truth for Today and Everyday: God Wastes Nothing

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We sit on my back porch talking about our shared love for the way the liquid amber leaves are just starting to change colors while sipping coffee. I’ve learned to only pour her half a mug. “My husband and I used to share just one cup,” she told me once.

My neighbor is more than twice my age. She’s also one of the most wonderfully unexpected new friends I’ve had in a long time. Conversation flows easy. We talk about the weather and art and the places she’s traveled. I tell her the funny thing my nine-year-old said. She’s mindful that I have a full workday ahead, but I never feel anxious or rushed when we’re spending time together.

As our back porch date winds down, I ask what she has going on the rest of the day.

“Oh, I have to try to figure out this issue with my insurance company and write a letter. I think I’ll ask my niece to help me.”

Her husband passed away a year ago, and their health insurance company has continued to automatically deduct his monthly premium, she explained.

“Well, I would be more than happy to help you with that,” I reply. “I actually have a lot of experience dealing with insurance companies.”

She says that is kind, but she’ll ask me next week when I’m not busy over the holiday weekend. I tell her I’m not busy. My new friend is wildly capable and very independent. I also know, that, like all of us, she is not meant to do life alone.

A couple of days later I pick up the phone and ask if tomorrow afternoon would be a good time for me to come over and help her write the letter. The next day, I carry my laptop across the street and sit on my neighbor’s tweed couch. We read through her notes from when she spoke to the insurance company. I ask for all her pertinent information and quickly type out a letter with all the requirements needed to request a refund and stop future payments. I read it aloud.

“What do you think?” I ask.

“It’s perfect!” she says. Then, “I’ve been losing sleep over this for months. Thank you so much.”

And on an ordinary fall afternoon, I knew again that a decade of questioning and discomfort was worth it. You see, for more than ten years I worked in medical billing. I was thankful for the flexibility of working from home and the paycheck to help my family. But that job was not my joy. For years I sat at my dining room table typing in charges and payments, aching for work that felt more meaningful, that used my true gifts, and developed my passions. For years, I prayed for a new season, for different work. And for years, God simply said, Wait.

Now that I am in a season of doing work that I absolutely love here at (in)courage and as an author and speaker, it’s easy to see the past through rosier glasses. But in the moment? Week after week, year after year, of waiting and longing and believing I was created for more and yet more never seemed to come? It wasn’t easy. It was stretching and painful.

And this is why I need to pause today to preach again to my own heart a truth that perhaps you need to hear too: God wastes nothing.

As Paul says in Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

All things. Our hard seasons, long waits, and unwanted circumstances are not out of God’s reach. He can and will use it all — even if it takes years to see it.

I had the confidence to offer to help my neighbor with this particular task because I had years of experience working with medical insurance companies. This skill set and knowledge base have also served me well in helping my own family navigate confusing billing and coverage issues. And I’m trusting God that even as I’m deeply grateful for the fact that my current daily work has nothing to do with authorizations and deductibles, He will continue to use the fullness of the experiences He’s given me to show His love and care to me and others.

Which makes me wonder: Is there something in your life today or in a past season that seems like a waste? A circumstance you’re prone to wish away? What if, instead, you leaned in? What if God is ready and waiting to use the very thing you want to escape as a gateway to a deeper connection for you and someone in your life?

We get to experience and express the kindness of God when we trust Him to use every part of our experiences.

Also? It’s been a couple of months since I wrote that letter. My neighbor got her insurance refund last week.

For more stories about experiencing and expressing the kindness of God, check out Becky Keife’s new book, The Simple Difference: How Every Small Kindness Makes a Big Impact. 

Even on a Hard Day, the Future’s So Bright

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My walk home from school that day was more like a run. The mean girl of fourth grade was following close behind to beat me up. Why? For all the reasons that life comes at us hard — some silly lie, some wrong assumption, some snarly enemy. With the mean girl, she’d decided that a boy she’d fallen for had decided to like me instead — or something like that. We were only fourth graders, so whatever boy-girl dynamic was actually under way, it was hardly worth a fist fight.

She was convinced, however, so there she was, saying nasty things to me during one long and excruciating school day — even threatening me with “Just wait ‘til school’s out!”

For a timid, quiet, rule-following kid like me, her threats were terrifying. I’d never been in a knock-down fight with anybody in my life. So, when the school bell rang, I grabbed my coat and took off for home — fast walking and running, slipping on icy snow, hoping to make it safely before my mean-girl enemy could find me.

But I wasn’t fast enough. A few blocks from my house, she caught up with me. Goaded by a friend, the mean girl started pelting me with snowballs — each one a rock covered in snow — aiming at my head. Turning around to yell stop!, I caught a rock hard snowball right above an eye and felt my eyelid quickly swell, surely making me look like I’d been in a brawl.

Looking back on that day, I’m amazed at how it resembled the way life’s worst can feel. You’re a target — never mind that you don’t deserve it — but the rocks keep on coming.

That’s how I felt recently when one disappointment after another came calling. One, a family matter. Another, a work issue. And yet another involving our lawn, of all things.

It wasn’t a serious problem. It’s just a lawn. But combined with other things, a rocky yard filled with weedy grass felt like a hard hit.

That same afternoon, it all came to a strange head. I’d said yes to a nice, dress-up event. Trying to look pulled together, I settled on a last-minute choice from my humble closet. The hem was a hair too long, with no time to sew it up. So, I hitched the skirt up with a belt and tried to make it all work. (Somebody reading this surely has done the same.)

“You look nice,” my husband assured me. But husbands can say such things, so we don’t make them late.

In fact, we arrived at the shindig on time. Happily, I saw several longtime friends. We smiled for photos my husband kept taking, grateful I could use the pics in some business publicity or maybe on my website later.

Looking at the photos the next day, however, my heart sank. In every one, I was wearing my grungy sunglasses.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked Dan.

“I didn’t notice.” He didn’t see the glasses as a problem.

Complaining to a friend, however, she broke through with the perspective I’d needed for every rock flying my way: “The future’s so bright, though.”

It is? Despite grungy sunglasses? Or an onslaught of problems? Psalm 145 provides words for seeing — not life’s rocks but God’s power to overcome them:

Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise;
    his greatness no one can fathom.
One generation commends your works to another;
    they tell of your mighty acts.
They speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty — 
    and I will meditate on your wonderful works.
Psalm 145:3-5 (NIV)

A weedy lawn? Praise Him for the land it’s growing on. A family problem? Praise Him for the family, even with its problems. A work disappointment? Praise Him for the job.

Sure, rocks can fly, but the future’s so bright, though.

Perhaps that’s why, after the mean girl threw the snowballs, my mother walked with me to the girl’s house, took one look at her and said, “What’s wrong, baby?” At those words, the girl melted in tears, crying through her pain. She didn’t want to be a bully. Now, here stood my mother, letting her know this: You’re forgiven, so be kind. And from then on, she was.

Even on a hard day, the future’s so bright. Hit a wall? Look over it or around it. Make a mistake? Forgive yourself. The future is bright, even if we can’t see it yet. But know this: Our God of Light can.

The shadow was only a small and
passing thing: There was light
and high beauty forever
beyond its reach.
J. R.R. Tolkien

Episode 14: Antique Jars, School Lunches, and the Power of Our Stories

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Welcome to the (in)courage podcast! In true (in)courage style today we’ve got some stories to tell and some real life to talk through. Join us as we build community, celebrate diversity, and become women of courage.

In today’s episode, Anna and Joy finish up their discussion on the Courageous Influence Bible study and talk about the power of sharing our stories. Joy talks about being seen and loved by God through the little things in her life with a recent story about finding a long held-on-to set of antique jars. Anna speaks to the way in which school lunches ministered to her heart over the last year. They talk about Psalm 34:18, and how God has comforted them during their most difficult times, and where their influence really comes from.

Sharing a story today is (in)courage contributor Dorina Lazo Gilmore-Young, who shares her story as published in Week Six of the Courageous Influence Bible study.

Also today, hear from Kathi Lipp, Becky Keife, and Grace P. Cho (author of Courageous Influence)! Each of them share parts of their story, and you don’t want to miss it. Listen in to find out which of them experienced God’s grace through a bouquet of peonies, felt God’s love through a hummingbird’s presence, and lived God’s redemption even as she had an incredibly difficult experience with her son.

Find all the Bible Study Mondays posts here and discover for yourself what God says about influence (spoiler alert: you have it! Yes, you!)

Listen to today’s episode below or wherever you stream podcasts! And be sure to get your copy of the Courageous Influence Bible study from DaySpring.com. The (in)courage podcast will be back in a few weeks with Season Three, so be sure and subscribe so you don’t miss a single episode!

We’d love to hear from you: How do you find the courage to tell your story? And how have you seen the impact of telling your story?

How Sharing Our Stories Can Bind Broken Hearts

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“It’s time,” my husband whispered in my ear. He clutched Samuel’s picture frame close to his chest as we slowly squeezed our way to the end of the line. All the young couples in front of us were happily holding their babies.

One mom glanced at me and said, “I have the same dress.”

I feigned a grin and stared at my blue lace maternity dress, barely able to see my feet over my postpartum belly. My mind instantly filled with flashbacks of flat-liners, my baby’s crib replaced with a casket, and my shattered innocence about healthy, blissful pregnancies. Would our presence make everyone feel sad? Should we really go up there?

The week before, our pastor had asked us if we wanted to dedicate our baby, Samuel, on Mother’s Day. My husband and I wrestled with questions, “Should we, and how do we, dedicate a baby that has died?”

Daily I asked, “Why, Lord?” and pleaded, “Please don’t let Samuel’s death be in vain. Let his little life bear fruit for Your kingdom. And please let me see it.”

We finally decided to participate in the baby dedication at our church, reasoning that if Samuel was alive today, we would have chosen to dedicate him to the Lord. But still, I wondered how this was going to work.

We stood on stage with the other families camouflaging us as our pastor greeted and blessed their babies. Surprisingly, our pastor quickly asked the other families to exit the stage, and now, we stuck out like ugly ducklings. I heard a mom gasp when she realized we weren’t holding our baby. Another mom’s face fell while our pastor began to read Samuel’s obituary, the hardest story I’ve ever had to write. Yet, as our pastor invited the congregation to pray for us, I felt their extended hands binding the exposed wound in my heart.

We were not given the same gift — a parenting book on how to raise godly children — that the other families received. Instead, our church gave us a framed print of Psalm 147:3: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

Later, I learned that this psalm was written possibly after a time of exile. God regathered His people after they had experienced trauma: loss of home, family, and their identity. Perhaps you can relate to their grief. Yet, like the exiles, God can dress our wounds from unfulfilled dreams with the healing balm of grace that comes from Him and the power of community.

After the service, a man came up to my husband and told him how their family had suffered the loss of a child too.

Another couple that had a miscarriage shared, “That was so healing!”

The comfort they felt and their deep connection to our story of grief and loss made me realize that this was the fruit I was hoping Samuel’s life would bear. Somehow our story intertwined with and gave voice to their stories like bandages, wrapped together to soothe the soul.

This first step towards sharing my story led me along an unexpected path of taking the next step of courage to share my story again and again. Over the next year, more people encouraged me to write my story. Writing is healing. The more I shared, the more I realized I was not alone.

God can give us a new purpose in our pain — to offer our stories of hope to others facing similar struggles. When we share our stories, “we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (2 Corinthians 1:4 NIV).

Every time I meet another mom who is experiencing fresh grief due to unexpected infant loss, I reflect on the many times I was touched by friends who bravely shared their stories and comforted me in my pain. Then, I have courage to share my story once more. Truly, only God can redeem something so painful and transform our words to provide comfort for someone else.

On this side of heaven, we think of death as the end, but it was truly the birth of my life as a writer. God used Samuel’s death to awaken me to a greater reality — life in eternity and the healing power of shared stories.

When You Need the Anxiety Change Brings to Simmer Down

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My daughter’s bloodcurdling scream ricocheted from the garage up to where I sat in my office on the second floor.

I shot out of my chair and sprinted down two flights of stairs. I threw open the door from our mudroom to the garage, calling with no small amount of panic, “Faith! FAITH! Are you okay?!” My bare feet landed on the doormat sitting just inside the garage, just like they’d done a thousand times before. And that’s when I noticed a texture under one foot that in no way resembled the doormat. It was soft, kind of squishy. I looked down and in short order let out my own bloodcurdling scream as I realized I had just stepped barefoot — barefoot! — on a long snake.

I jumped backward, hollering like I was on fire, and shut the garage door between me and it.

After taking a couple deep breaths and giving thanks to God that the creature didn’t bite me, I simmered down enough to collect my wits and slowly, gingerly opened the door again. The snake remained in its same position, folded back and forth on the mat like some kind of sadistic ribbon candy. I called for Faith again, and then I saw her waving from the driver’s seat of the car parked in the garage. Faith, who had been outside, explained that she had proceeded to walk back toward the house through the same garage door before laying eyes on the snake. That’s how she ended up screaming — as she jumped into the car. I looked back at the snake, who hadn’t moved a muscle. As riled up as Faith and I had been about it, it seemed completely unfazed by us.

After double-checking the snake wasn’t poisonous, I began laughing hysterically. Faith, still shut up inside the car, said she wasn’t coming out till the snake was long gone.

Dramatic or not, I totally understood that life decision.

Sometimes I view the difficult change in my life — the kind I don’t want and didn’t ask for — like I viewed that particular snake. I’m walking along, minding my own business, and then this terrible change pops up where I least expect it, and my heart immediately drops to my ankles. Or maybe I did expect the change — after all, some difficult change is expected but still unsettling. When that’s the case, it can still bring unanticipated surprises. It may also bring anything from dread to a good scare to major harm. It may bring instant panic or simmering stress. Either way, its unwelcome presence can spin me up and my anxiety right along with it, and it’s been doing so since my childhood.

Prone to many an anxious thought as a kid and teen, I can still feel my daddy’s arm slung around my shoulders as he’d say, “Now Kristen, just simmer down, honey. Don’t you know God is with you right here, right now?”

I might’ve been studying for a math test or waiting on the dentist, and he would recognize when I began to panic. My daddy’s kind presence reminded me of the Father’s kind presence and helped my breathing to slow, my heart rate to calm, and my mind to clear. When I remembered God was near, my anxiety simmered down.

Of course, as the dad of three daughters, he sometimes also told my sisters and me to “simmer down” out of exasperation as we fought over Barbies or baby dolls or who got to sit in the highly coveted front seat of the car. But more often than not, “simmer down” became a gentle touchstone that turned me from the toxic train to truth — and helped my emotions do the same.

I’m forty-seven now, and how I wish the most anxiety-inducing event brought on by change was a cavity or a pop math quiz. But you don’t get to be my age without encountering change that devastates you physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

The writer of Hebrews tells us, “By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible” (Hebrews 11:3).

If God created the universe from what was invisible, then He can create something beautiful from what you can’t yet see in your own life. Don’t see how anything good can come from the hot mess you or your loved one is in? Can’t make heads or tails of what in the world you’re supposed to do next? Well, then, you’re in prime location to see God make sense of the senseless that sits in your lap.

The road you’re traveling may very well have a snake or two stretched across it, and the shock of its discovery may make you scream or run and hide. But hear the Father whisper, Don’t you know I am with you right here, right now? He is as next to you at the dining room chair or the snoring husband or the too-empty space at the other end of the couch. And He gave us His Son to be with us till the end of time.

Let that speak the message to simmer down your anxiety. Dear one, God will resurrect and refashion your devastation into restoration.

Change may come out of nowhere, yes. But wait for the invisible to become visible — it may very well come out of nowhere too.

—

When Change Finds You: 31 Assurances to Settle Your Heart When Life Stirs You Up is an inspirational and practical book that helps us think and feel differently about change on the inside so we can live and love differently on the outside. We’re excited to give away FIVE copies! Just leave a comment telling us about a time God saw you through a change.

And join Kristen and Becky Keife tomorrow, 10/20, at 12:00pm central on Facebook for a conversation about When Change Finds You!

Here’s to acknowledging our change, giving our anxieties over to God, and abiding well in the days to come — no matter what transitions life brings.

 

*Giveaway open to US addresses and closes on 10/22/21 at 11:59pm central.

Special Episode with Jami Nato: The Coping Mechanism Basket and the Lost Art of Intentional Kindness.

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Welcome to a special bonus episode of the (in)courage podcast! In these bonus episodes, (in)courage community manager and author Becky Keife discusses with friends how every small kindness makes a big impact.

Today, Becky’s joined by friend and (in)courage contributor, Jami Nato. Jami shares the story of The Coping Mechanism Basket — a simple way her neighbors give what they have to come alongside one another during difficult seasons. Becky and Jami talk about how “tell me what you need” is often less loving than just showing up with simple, practical, intentional kindness.

This episode will challenge you to invest in the friends around you or to start cultivating the kind of community you long to have. Take note of some of the key ingredients Becky and Jami talk about, including generosity, awkwardness, and maybe getting a little bossy.

You’re going to be so encouraged. Listen below or wherever you stream podcasts!

Connect:

What Chickens Taught Me About God

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I live on a small family farm. For some reason God finds ways to teach me about Himself through our chickens. Maybe because someone once told me chickens were a lot like humans and I thought they were dumb. Maybe because I never understood the term pecking order until I saw it was a real life and death issue.

Our chickens are more like pets. We’ve purchased chicks in the past but have never had any hatch from our eggs. We would watch our hens brood in their nesting boxes for almost a month waiting for their eggs to hatch, but nothing would happen and we’d have to throw away the rotten eggs. Over time, we gave up on our chickens having babies.

One summer evening we were greeted with the soft peeps of five chicks with fluffy black heads and bottoms dipped in yellow. This surprise caused me, my husband, and my daughter to act like the TV husband of the 1950s trying to get to the hospital in time but who forgets his wife at home. The thrill of new life created a moment of elated chaos in our backyard.

We entered the coop expecting to hold the newly hatched chicks but were greeted by excellent mother hens. I watched as one of our hens cornered her two chicks and hid them underneath her wings as she talked to them. You know when God uses something in your life to make a verse you’ve heard a million times come to life? This is what came to mind as I watched that mama hen:

God will cover you with His feathers. He will shelter you with His wings.
Psalm 91:4 (NLT)

This verse always sounded so endearing and sweet to me, full of springtime miracles and gentleness in the nest. But not in our chicken coop! Spending time with these hens and watching how they care for their chicks brought revelation about how God fiercely protects us.

God desires to have us live in the shelter of His wings and find rest in Him. He loves us in the fierce yet sacrificially loving way of a mama hen. We, as God’s chicks, have to allow Him to protect us. Sometimes our mama hens are beside themselves trying to help and protect their babies, but the chicks don’t always listen to the only voice that can protect them. But she doesn’t relent. Likewise, God doesn’t rest or take a break in taking care of us. He will leave the four chicks to gather up the one who strays from the brood.

One of my favorite observations of these mama hens has been how their chicks can become invisible. The mama hens cover their chicks with their wings to hide them from every kind of predator. We are protected in the same way. We become invisible to the enemy because under God’s wings, the enemy can only see God. The Lord says:

I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name. When they call
on me, I will answer. I will be with them in trouble. I will rescue them and honor them.
I will satisfy them with a long life and give them my salvation. 
Psalm 91:14-16 (NLT)

Our chicks are adorable but pretty much clueless. They are in constant contact and communication with their mama hen because they know she can be trusted and that she loves them fiercely. So, they respond by listening and obeying in love, letting her take care of them, sitting quietly under her wings and watching her every move to learn how to navigate this world.

I want to be more like one of God’s chicks. Let’s live in His shelter and protection, finding the love and rest we so desperately need.

For When Your Clothes No Longer Fit

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There are two piles of jeans on my bed, a stack of pants on the floor, a dresser drawer jutting out, and hangers left empty in the closet. There’s a part of me that is slightly frustrated, a feeling rising up that says, How are you still here? and Look how these don’t fit either.

As I write these words to you, I can put a name tag on each sentence. They sound like Shame and Condemnation. But in the moment, as I try on pair after pair of pants that no longer fit, it’s a little bit harder to remember what is true and kind when I look in the mirror.

At the beginning of the summer, I pulled out every pair of shorts I could find. Over time, I pushed several to the back of the drawer because they no longer fit. The labels may as well have read “Maybe one day.” But the truth is, if the labels could speak that sentence aloud, they wouldn’t use an encouraging, inspiring, or kind tone . . . no, those three words would be laced with judgment.

You might think I’m making much of jeans and linen shorts, and perhaps you’re right. But every morning as I dressed for the day, my clothes sent a message that I had become “too much.” And so on an afternoon in May, I tried on every single pair. I did my best not to look at the sizes but as the size of the stack grew, my throat tightened. It turns out, clearing out a drawer can be a fight.

I thought about the girl who once fit in those shorts but thought she needed to lose weight, the girl who later squeezed and sucked in, the girl who still considered keeping her favorite pair because maybe if she did a little more — ate better and worked out longer each day — she would be a little less.⁣

Before I tried them all on, I made one rule — and it wasn’t that they needed to fit. Instead, it was simply this: Be kind to yourself.⁣

Do you immediately think “I’m too much” or “I need to lose weight”? Do you have to squeeze or suck in? Are you uncomfortable? Is shame should-ing you? Do you feel like you need to be less?⁣

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to yourself. Be kind to yourself.⁣

I expected there to be difficult moments, but after the drawer was cleaned out and the unkind-to-myself shorts were donated, something arrived that I didn’t see coming: joy.

I felt . . . freedom.

All summer long, I knew that anything I reached for would fit the body that I have today. There were fewer options, but what was left didn’t say that I had to be less. What remained no longer shamed.

Fall is just now beginning to arrive here in Alabama, and so it’s time to tackle the jeans that have been tucked away. If I’m honest, as I pause to write these words to you while surrounded by jeans that will be donated tomorrow, I’m a little disappointed. There’s a small part of me that thought maybe they’d fit by October. But the seasons are changing, and I want to be kind to myself in this one too.

My body grew last year. I’m bigger now. But this body also carried me through an extremely difficult year. It sheltered-in-place and wept at funerals and adjusted to the new normal of continued loss. It was cut open through surgery and is still healing. It lost giving and receiving hugs. It gained laugh lines. It sang and danced. It walked trails and worked hard. It kept showing up.⁣

It grew — in more ways than one. And so today I’m replying to the condemning question of “How are you still here?” with the beautiful truth that this is exactly where I want to be: still here, still choosing kindness no matter the season.

Colossians 3:12 says “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”

Paul, when closing his letter to the church in Philippi, wrote, “Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious — the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse” (Philippians 4:8).

I want to be a woman who walks out of her apartment clothed with compassion and kindness, who fills her mind with only what is gracious. But before I can do that, I must look in the mirror and begin there.

The drawer is half-full or half-empty, depending on how you look at it. But I can breathe when I open it, I can breathe in everything that remains, and where there once held a pile that said “You’ve become too much,” there’s space for grace and for whatever is to come.

Sure, it’s just a pile of pants. But somehow, it’s also a permission slip of freedom.⁣

If I could look you in the eye today, friend, I’d say you don’t have to do more so that you can be less. You aren’t too much; you don’t need to shrink down or suck in. Your right-now body is already good.

Be kind to yourself.

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

The Value of the Land in the Graveyard

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A Facebook message popped in my inbox the other day, and it was similar to hundreds of messages, emails, and texts that I have received over the years.

“I want to write a book, but where do I begin?”

The woman in my inbox was an acquaintance from high school. She had been through a lot in life and had come out on the other side to find healing and wholeness, thanks be to God. And now, she felt led to write a book about all that she’d learned along the way and wondered if I, as a book author myself, had advice on how to begin.

My answer to her was the same answer I give everyone.

I congratulated her on coming this far, and for sharing her dream with another human person. That’s no small thing.

Second, I answered her question about beginnings.

“You begin, by committing to the beginnings of things. You start writing that book . . . by starting to write that book. More often than not those early words will not be as eloquent as you’d like them to be. But don’t worry about beauty at first. Concern yourself with telling the truth.”

That’s the good news I share with writers — that beginning is easier than it seems. The not-so-good news is this:

It’s not the beginning that’s hard. It’s the keeping-at-it part that’s hard.

One oft-quoted statistic says up to 97 percent of the people who start writing books never finish.

There are reasons: a new season of life or time constraints, for instance. The will to keep going disappeared because of obstacles along the way.

Maybe that sounds familiar to you right now — and not just for aspiring authors. There’s a brand new week right around the corner, and some of you have a pocketful of dreams and plans, but something might try to stop you from taking the next step.

Maybe it’s fear of failure, possible rejection, time, or some other uncertainty.

But what if you decided that this was the week you’d take one small step toward progress? It could be a way of saying, “This is important. My dreams are important. My ideas have value.”

You may think you’re too old or too young, that people won’t understand the dream you carry in your heart, or that it’s too difficult because there are no blueprints for how to build what you feel led to build.

The author of Hebrews has some encouragement for you, by offering a way to move forward with perseverance.

 . . . start running — and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed — that exhilarating finish in and with God — he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!
Hebrews 12:1-3 (MSG)

These verses were a rousing call to early Christians to persevere. The call relates to our faith, of course, but it’s also a reminder to keep moving forward with the hopes and dreams that He has placed inside of us.

When I want to give up, those verses in Hebrews encourage me to replay the story of Jesus in my mind, like a rallying cry to keep going anyway.

Some years ago, I read a story in a book called Die Empty by Todd Henry. In the book, the author recalls a story in which his friend asked this question at a meeting: “What do you think is the most valuable land in the world?”

Several people made their guesses: Manhattan. The gold mines of South Africa. The oil fields of the Middle East.

But the friend said that all those answers were wrong. He said that the most valuable land in the world is the graveyard. Because in the graveyard are buried all the unwritten novels, businesses that never launched, unreconciled relationships, and all of the other things that people thought, “I’ll get around to that tomorrow.”

Well one day, their tomorrows ran out.

Let’s not go to bed tonight ignoring the dreams and ideas that God has given us. Let’s not contribute to the value of the land in the graveyard.

Let’s pull a dream out of our pockets and take the next step toward seeing it unfold.

It’s time to dream that dream again.

The Economy of God Is a Strange and Miraculous Thing

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Then the word of the Lord came to him: “Go at once to Zarephath in the region of Sidon and stay there. I have directed a widow there to supply you with food.” So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, “Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” As she was going to get it, he called, “And bring me, please, a piece of bread.”

“As surely as the Lord your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread — only a handful of flour in a jar and a little olive oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it — and die.”

Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small loaf of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land.’”

She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the Lord spoken by Elijah.
1 Kings 17:8-16 (NIV)

Have you ever felt at the end of your rope, like all hope was lost? Like if God didn’t intervene ASAP, you weren’t going to make it? No doubt that’s how the widow felt. She was ready to fix a final meal for herself and her son and then just give up.

But what does Elijah say to her after hearing about her dire situation? “Don’t be afraid” (v. 13). It’s not an emotional putdown, but a call to courage.

The assurance of God’s presence and His power working on our behalf is why we can be courageous. Both Elijah and the widow were unable to provide for their own needs. So not only was God inviting the widow into a moment of courageous kindness, but He was asking the same of Elijah.

The economy of God is a strange and miraculous thing. The more you give, the more you receive. The more you pour out, the more He fills you up. Elijah was fed by ravens, the widow’s final provisions were multiplied beyond reason, and her little boy was brought back to life.

It’s tempting to read a story like this and focus on the obvious characters. Elijah showed up at the widow’s home and asked for a loaf of bread. The widow dipped her hands into the jars of flour and oil and formed the ingredients into loaves. Elijah took the lifeless boy from the widow’s arms and cried out to God for his life. Elijah and the widow both showed courage, but they are not the heroes of the story — for it was God’s power on display!

Friend, living the simple difference and choosing a life of courageous kindness doesn’t happen by our own strength but by God’s strength in us. We start where we are, give what we have, and God does the rest — more than we could ever expect.

God, thank You for again reminding me that You are compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, and full of loving kindness. I acknowledge my great need for You. I offer my life — all that I have and all that I am — for Your glory. Use me to show someone else Your kindness this week. Amen.

We hope you loved this excerpt from the Courageous Kindness Bible Study, written by Becky Keife and featuring stories from the (in)courage community!

Sign up and we’ll send you a FREE week from each of our Courageous Bible Studies! Yup, we’ll send Week One + discussion videos from Courageous Simplicity, Courageous Joy, Courageous Influence, and Courageous Kindness. That’s FOUR FREE weeks of Bible Study! Read each at your own pace and decide which one resonates most with your heart.

Get your copy today and take the journey to world-changing kindness!

 

We’re Gonna Make It Because God Is Good

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I woke up recently, overwhelmed with grief. My first thoughts were the losses from this past year, the pains experienced, and the prayers still unanswered. I don’t know about you, but 2021 has been one of the hardest years of my life, and the weight of this year pulls heavy on my heart and soul.

I tried to shake myself from the heaviness. A long time ago, a Sunday school teacher had taught me to counter discouragement with practices of gratitude. For every discouraging thought, I was to recall and thank God for something good in my life. So, as I slowly got up, my mind began creating a list of the good things in my life — my family, my friends, my health. But with each good thing I recalled, my next thought turned again to loss and grief. Pain has a way of clouding out the good, doesn’t it?

Within minutes, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. “How long, O God? How long must I bear this grief? When is healing coming?” I whispered.

I even felt angry that I had gone through some of the things I had experienced. I didn’t ask for these struggles. I didn’t want to be living through a pandemic. I didn’t want certain relationships to be severed. None of it felt fair. I didn’t want to have these weights in my life.

Grief is hard to bear.

By God’s grace, I was listening to a song later that morning called, “You Are God and You Are Good.” The words washed over me and were a balm to my soul:

For those who mourn today be the comfort
And who hunger after You be satisfied
For You bless the poor in spirit for Heaven is their Kingdom
We know that You are God, and You are good
Yes we know that You are God, and You are good.

You see, our circumstances may not be good, but God is good in the midst of our circumstances. God knows our pains. He sees us. In our pain, we can feel so alone, unwanted, unworthy, but God promises that nothing can separate us from His love. I love the New Living Translation of Romans 8:38-39:

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow — not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below — indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

These truths from Scripture declare that neither miscarriage nor infertility, neither mental health struggles nor debt, neither estranged relationship nor pains in our family, or abuse of any kind can separate us from the love of Christ Jesus. God doesn’t always spare us from pain, but He never abandons us in the midst of our pain.

In his commentary on Psalm 46, Charles Spurgeon wrote that God is good — not because He causes things that seem or feel “good” to happen in our lives, but because in the midst of the storm, God comes closer to us than the storm could ever be. This is why we can say God is good no matter how bad the storm is, no matter how much pain we experience, no matter how different the outcome is from what we’ve prayed for. In the hardest moments of life, God comes close to us. He doesn’t change. He doesn’t falter. He doesn’t quit. He doesn’t leave, and He doesn’t let go.

God is our good Father. He cares about our everyday lives — past, present, and future. He loves us, and He desires to give us good gifts. But He also doesn’t owe us anything. We can trust that because God is good, He knows what is best for our life. In the darkest moments of our lives, we can come to God in prayer, lay our pains before Him and declare, “You are God, and You are good.”

Sister, we’re gonna make it because our God is good.

Season 2, Episode 13: Influence Around the Table

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“We have to push through the awkward — especially at church.”

Anna and Joy talk today about connecting with people and building relationships around the dinner table. They share their stories of having people over, bringing them together, and what that kind of influence has looked like in their lives. They discuss how being deeply plugged in a church community takes strength and guts (their favorite) and end with Luke 24:13-16 as they talk through what it means to be in discipleship.

Sharing a story today is (in)courage contributor Grace P. Cho. She reads her story about influence at the dinner table, as published in Week Five of the Courageous Influence Bible Study.

Also, in each episode of this season (today included), hear from very special guests Kathi Lipp, Becky Keife, and Grace P. Cho (author of Courageous Influence)! Today, each of them share the ways in which serving, gathering, and hosting has led to discipleship in their lives. Listen in to find out which of them learned and served by cleaning toilets, which prayed for couple friends, and which encourages us to go first with our invitations.

These three friends spent a few days together as they went through the study, and, lucky us, they recorded their conversations so we can all listen in!

Find all the Bible Study Mondays posts here and discover for yourself what God says about influence (spoiler alert: you have it! Yes, you!)

Listen to today’s episode below or wherever you stream podcasts! And be sure to get your copy of the Courageous Influence Bible Study from DaySpring.com.

 

We’d also love to hear from you! What role have relationships played in your experience of church (either when you were growing up or in your current life stage)?

Wishing for “Normal” and Learning That His Ways Are Higher

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When our daughter was about three years old, I worked up the courage to verbalize what I had been thinking for quite some time: She was different. I had a nagging sense that something was off. She wasn’t walking. She skipped crawling and would bounce on her knees across the room (It was as strange as it sounds!). I ached when I heard other toddlers forming beautiful little words, like mama or dada, while she remained silent. I asked our pediatrician if this was normal, and he said she was probably just delayed and that her big brother did the talking for her. But still, as time went on, that nagging sense stayed there in my mind and heart.

When she turned four, I finally got her evaluated after tons of paperwork and searching for someone to take me seriously — “I know she looks fine, but it’s not fine. Something is wrong.” It turned out she couldn’t hear for the first several years of her life. After we fixed the hearing, I thought we’d get back on track for “my plan” for her life to move along. However, when her language did not arrive, the long, tiresome journey of advocating for our daughter and early intervention was just beginning. 

Over the course of my life, I’ve found myself in many uncomfortable situations where I’ve had to sit in the discomfort of events in my life not going as planned. You know that song we all like to belt out as if we’re the next big American Idol star? Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander . . . wherever You might lead me. It’s fun to sing, but not as fun to live. Do we really want to be taken so deeply into the unknown, even if it’s painful and uncomfortable and we might lose some things along the way? If I’m honest, I’d rather sing the song than live the song. 

But that’s not the call of the faith we profess. We often can’t understand what God is doing, but we are called to trust that He knows better and will work it for our good. We may know that in our heads, but God wants to capture our hearts instead. And that often happens when life is interrupted.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
Isaiah 55:8-9 (NIV)

There was a time (or seven) in our journey with Lila where I thought I could fix her with the newest therapy, the greatest miracle supplement, or perhaps if I prayed hard enough. But as I mature in faith, as I walk this road further, I have since stopped believing that if she were more “normal,” she would have a better life. My perspective, as I lean on His higher ways, has changed from needing her to be healed to believing that God is showing me something about Himself through all of this. He didn’t make a mistake when He weaved her genes together, when He knitted her, when He gave the word to make her just so. This leads me to believe He is showing a part of Himself through her, something I didn’t want to see at first.

But now I know deeply from watching her boundless joy and her intense happiness for others as she watches them open a gift and cries with joy. She jumps up and down. She hugs them, as if she were the one receiving it. Give me joy like that! She walks down to the neighbor’s house and asks them, with intensity, “And how was your day?!” — all because she really wants to know. Give me others-centered awareness like that! She wants to pet every dog, wants to know their name and what their favorite treat is, and she laughs hysterically at their features. “That weiner dog is smiling at me!” Give me the ability to find joy in the simplest things like that! She sings off key at the top of her lungs, and it is sometimes accompanied by a squeaky recorder, which has us all laughing so hard we cry. Give me a joy so contagious like that!

And I almost missed out on it by wishing my circumstances were more “normal.” The rest of the verse above continues on:

So is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
Isaiah 55:11 (NIV)

So here’s what I’ve come to trust: Every circumstance is tailor-made for me, given to me by a good God, who refuses to let His good Word return empty. My life and its interruptions will accomplish His purpose for His glory and my good. And perhaps, once we start believing this to be true for us all, we can open our white-knuckled grip and receive a better gift than we could imagine: Himself. It was never about our circumstances. It was always about Him.

How God Turned My Story of Loneliness into Something Beautiful

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I never felt truly beautiful or beloved. I thought it was something only people with perfect families in nice-looking houses got to experience. So I grew up wanting to leave behind everything that made me feel flawed and broken, and I did all the things I was supposed to do to build a life that looked like everyone else’s.

I did this for a chance to be what I thought was “normal” — so I could belong, so I could be loved. But something unexpected happened: As I tried to build the life I thought I should, focused on taking care of others, I discovered I wasn’t becoming whole — not even close.

Although I was grateful for everything I had in my life, I didn’t feel happy. My sense of belonging didn’t increase, and instead of joy, I felt lonely and uninspired. Somewhere along the way, I had lost the things that make life beautiful and meaningful, that make us come alive with beauty and joy.

Once I had my second baby, I figured it was too late for me; I was in the thick of parenthood. I decided that since we can’t choose our childhoods, it was time to make the next generation’s better. Just get over yourself, Bonnie, I told myself. And that is how I gave up on me.

But God didn’t give up on me. One day, while looking for my son Josh’s birth certificate to sign him up for preschool, I unexpectedly stumbled on my own.

As I studied it closely, it dawned on me: One day, my children will ask me where their grandpa is, and I wouldn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. I didn’t know where he was or why he left me and our family.

When I was seven, my father left without saying goodbye. He never came back to visit. He never called. And although I’d check my mailbox on my birthday every year, secretly hoping to find a card, it was always empty.

I couldn’t tell my friends about this because I thought my family life was so weird.

My mother, Ah-Ma, was a mail-order bride from Hong Kong, and my father, Bah-Ba, worked as a busboy in a noodle shop in San Francisco’s Chinatown. If you asked me what my father looked like, I couldn’t even tell you for sure.

I didn’t have a single photograph of my father by the time my mother finished cutting up every picture of him as I sat on the floor the day my father left. She yanked the photos out of their vinyl album pockets, making sure to cut straight into the middle of his face on each image, throwing them all over the living room floor.

I learned to never ask questions about my story because Ah-Ma always shouted the breath out of my questions as I sat frozen with chopsticks in my hand, feeling as small as a kernel of rice sticking to the rim of my bowl. “What does it matter anyway?” she hollered at me.

Those were the moments I immigrated to a different kind of land, leaving my broken past behind. I tried to hide all my questions because the new land I endeavored to belong to was the land of the unbroken and beautiful. And there was no room for baggage on this journey.

As I looked at my birth certificate that day, questions that I ignored all those years came alive: Where was my father, and why did he leave?

Determined to uncover the family’s secrets I ran from, I set out to find my childhood home and the father who left me.

God was taking me on a journey to make beauty out of brokenness, to find my true worth. Was I willing to make peace with my past?

As He tenderly gathered all the bruised and broken fragments I’d tried to throw away, He whispered, What no one wants, I cherish. I love every part of you. You are worth loving. You are My beloved.

Even though I didn’t know what I’d find, I decided to set my GPS for my childhood home in San Francisco — for the very first time.

God was rewriting my story with His love, and He wants to rewrite your story with His love for you too. Beautiful friend, will you give God the space to fill in the blanks with His deep, healing love for you today? He sees your tender, lonely places. You are not forgotten. God loves every part of you and wants to shine His light through your stories. No pain is wasted, and He can turn your trials into testimonies — beauty out of ashes, joy out of sadness. 

God whispers to you, Beloved, You can’t embrace your belovedness when you follow someone else’s path. You are worthy to live your own version of a beautiful life with Me. You are worthy to be loved.

It’s never too late to be you.
It’s never too late to begin again.
It’s never too late to be loved.

Don’t hide your story; share it. What God has done in your life, that’s what you need to shine. You’re the only one who can tell His story in you.

Your story matters. You matter. You are beloved.

Life doesn’t have to be perfect for it to be made beautiful with God’s love. There is empowering encouragement on every page of Sweet Like Jasmine: Finding Identity in a Culture of Loneliness as Bonnie Gray takes you on the journey to help you draw closer to God’s love and embrace your true worth! Each chapter includes Scripture to bring you peace, stories to renew your faith, and discussion questions to journal and use for your small group and book club.

Comment below and tell us something you enjoy doing that helps you feel God’s love. We’ll choose FIVE winners to receive a copy of Bonnie’s new book Sweet Like Jasmine. Also, you can get a FREE Guided Journal with your order at SweetLikeJasmine.com!

Lastly, join author Bonnie Gray tomorrow, October 13 at 11am central on Facebook for a conversation with (in)courage Community Manager Becky Keife as they discuss Sweet Like Jasmine!

Special Episode with Anjuli Pascall: Kindness, Bananas, and Showing Up for the People in Front of Us

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Welcome to a special bonus episode of the (in)courage podcast! In these bonus episodes, (in)courage community manager + author Becky Keife discusses with friends how every small kindness makes a big impact.

Today, Becky’s joined by friend and (in)courage contributor, Anjuli Paschall. Anjuli shares the story of how an afternoon meltdown full of embarrassment became a gateway to receiving a simple yet profound kindness from a neighbor. They ask and answer the question, Who can you carry in your heart today and bless with what you already have? They remind us that, “Kindness is the good kind of contagious,” and they invite you to take The Simple Difference Challenge on Instagram with Becky!

Listen below or wherever you stream podcasts!


Connect:

The Myth of “Practice Makes Perfect”

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I was seven years old when I went to my first piano lesson. For ten years, my mom drove me to a country house ten minutes from our own where my beloved piano teacher would teach me theory and technique and remind me of the secret of every great pianist:

“Practice makes perfect!”

These three words were loaded with promise. I remember hearing them when starting a new and challenging piece. It was intended to motivate and encourage, and there was certainly some truth to the words. It inspired me to practice nearly every day, in the hope of one day being able to play the black-and-whites with mastery.

But it was also a phrase loaded with pressure, especially to a seven-year-old girl who thought “perfect” the only acceptable result.

To be clear, I’m all about the practice. Diligent hard work and determination are important. Eventually, I grew up to be a piano teacher myself. I know the power of consistent practice — in piano and in life.

But the perfection? It was an impossible target — one I could never seem to hit, no matter the amount of my hard work and commitment. Before each recital, I practiced my piece over and over again, determined to get it right. But then the day of my performance showed up, along with an overwhelming fear of failure, and all evidence of my prior practice seemed to fly out the window. No one else may have noticed my less-than-perfect performance, but I knew. And my disappointment in myself was real.

I’ve discovered the same to be true in my spiritual life. I read my Bible and go to church. I try to do what is right and live in such a way that would please God. But no sooner do I close the pages of my Bible and say “amen” do I find myself tripping on my pride or impatience, or reluctant to forgive and quick to judge. As Paul famously said in Romans 7:18-19, “For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do — this I keep on doing.” 

Practice makes perfect? Not so much. Determination and self-will cannot make me the woman I want to be. No matter my good intentions or how hard I try, I never quite hit the mark. Yes, the disciplines of reading my Bible, prayer, and spending time in a community of other believers certainly help me grow and become more like Jesus. But the gap between the person I am and the perfection I desire can only be bridged by an extraordinary grace:

So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!
Romans 7:21-25 (NIV)

My friend, if you’re feeling the weight of wretchedness, if you want to cringe at the myriad ways you try to live like Jesus and yet fail time and again, you’re in good company. I’ve been following Jesus for over forty years now, and some days I barely make it to breakfast before I see evidence of my broken humanity.

And yet, I see evidence of His transforming in spite of myself. Although I am not yet who I want to be, I’m no longer who I once was. And when I fall on His grace in recognition of my great need, I find His power waiting for me. It is there I can leave my hard work and determination behind and, instead, rest in His work — His saving work on the cross. It is His performance that matters, not mine.

“It is finished,” He said (John 19:30).

Yes, it is. The real work is already done. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.

You too, friend. You, too.