Freely Give

So I have to admit, I’m not a huge fan of New Years resolutions. 

Not because they are not a good idea. I love the possibility of a fresh start, a clean slate, a new habit yielding a new and improved you. 

I don’t like them because they are not effective. 

I mean usually. For me. 

And the expectation to come up with one that I know I can keep, let alone one that can really change me? 

Well, lets just say I have a bad track record with New Years resolutions. 

Last year I sensed it was time for a new approach. Rather that my typical attempt to start the new year off with a list of things I don’t like about myself and my feeble attempts to tackle them (stop eating sugar, exercise more, get more organized), I mustered up the courage to ask God a question.

“How can I look more like You?”

 I got a very personal answer. Say yes to Me. 

Sure the general answer is true for all of us who are following after Christ, but the specific answer looks different in the nitty gritty fingerprints our individual lives. My Year of the Yes took me many places, some seen, witnessed and shared by so many. Some were quiet adventures, triumphs of my heart that are mine alone to savor. I can attest to saying yes to God yielded some long awaited peace, but also reeked some havoc that I didn’t see coming. And though I didn’t always get it right, this saying yes to God took me to deep places with my Jesus. Secret places that I have grown to love. 

So in this wake of my Year of the yes, looking to build on its sturdy foundation, I again come to God with my question, “How can I look more like You?” 

In this year, this season, my specific and special set of circumstances? 

It’s a slow answer, but once I discern it, there is no doubt in my mind it’s spoken straight from my Father’s heart to mine. 

Freely give. 

Freely give love like I give it. Freely give grace like Me. Freely forgive even when you don’t think its deserved. Freely give of yourself to others. Your gifts, your talents, your full self. 

It sounds easy if you're God. It sounds impossible if you're me. 

Because to accomplish this feat, I have to stop doing some things. 

I have to stop trying to figure out who is going to hurt me. Stop deciding to love only the people I have tested and tried. I have to stop trying to please people and have people please me in order to win their love. I have to stop trying to fix things, myself included.  I have to cease making everything about me and quit taking things so personal. 

And therein lies my first lesson in freely giving. In order to freely give, I must first freely receive from God. His grace, love, forgiveness. His peace. His perspective. 

Freely receiving is the key that frees me from my self imposed prison of holding back, unlocking me to freely give as God has designed me to do.   

And also I need to learn to freely receive what others would give me. Sometimes this is the bigger hurdle for me. 

As I write this, I have a precious friend and sister in Christ who, at any moment, is going to leave this world and be with Jesus. Her life is this principle personified.  She freely receives and freely gives. I and so many others have been the blessed receiptants of her love and, consequently, God’s love through her. I know when my life is coming to an end, mulling around in my head will be these questions: Did I give it all I had? Did I hold myself back? Did I withhold love when I should have just went out there with guns blazing and loved with reckless abandonment? 

Freely give. Give it all. All your life. All your love. Stop holding back because of fear. Stop evaluating if it’s good enough. If your enough. If it will be returned. Just give it.

Freely.

"What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?" Romans 8:31-32

Dedicated to Kristin Sauder

Paths of Righteousness

I hate getting lost. 

Being lost. 

Having your GPS lead you only to realize it doesn’t even know how to get you where you want to go. You are lost in spite of thinking you knew where you were headed. 

I hate that even more. 

How did I end up here? This wasn’t what I was planning. I don’t have time for this. I’ve got places to be. Can’t there at least be a Starbucks on the next corner? If I’m going to be lost, at least I can find comfort in a frothy latte. 

I’m amazed how many times I’ve been here on this dead end road that was never on my map and found myself thinking whoa this is not where I was headed. How on earth did I get here? How did I wind up so angry? When did this habit become controlling? Why am I struggling with this all of the sudden? When did I become so cynical? So pessimistic? 

The answer that bubbles up in me is Life. 

Life happened. 

And life, I’m learning, is chalk full of places we never dreamed we be, thanks to the disappointing turn a relationship takes, the misunderstandings, the diagnosis, the market crash, the depression. 

The disappointments. 

Managing disappointments in life is where I get so tripped up because those darn expectations of mine have got me headed confidently in one direction only to discover I’m traveling down the wrong road. 

One that is dark and scary and not at all what I had planned on.

And no Starbucks in sight. 

This is where confusion and frustration set in. And I’m learning it is the birthplace of a harden heart. But I don’t want a hard heart. I don’t want to be cynical. 

I drag myself into God’s presence because I know no matter what state my heart is in, He is listening and that He is faithful to answer.  Honestly, I don’t even know what my prayer is but I’m thinking its pretty much a run on sentence full of emotional, messy pleas for help, ending up with the clear statement of I don’t want to be in this situation. I can’t see a way through it. I don’t know where you are going with this. 

I want to be on a different path. 

The one I had planned. 

In due time, I hear His still, small voice gently whisper these words of life to me:

He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Psalm 23:3. 

There is a path of righteousness I have for you here. There is a way to navigate through this messy situation that will be for My purposes in and through you. Let me lead you. 

And then He graciously opens my eyes that perhaps my expectations were slightly misguided and put upon things that never were going to be able to deliver. It slowly dawns on me that the misunderstandings can be an opportunity to develop a space for grace in my heart to learn to be more gracious with others. He shows me that disappointments are really HIS appointments to accomplish His work in me. He gives me the understanding I need to keep on going, instead of the temporary relief from struggle I'm desiring.

I love how it says “the paths." There is a general path of following God that every believer is called to, and then there are the specific paths in the life of the individual where faith gets personal and my very big God personally cares about the very small me. He wants to get all up in my business. Every little circumstance. Every relationship. Every ache in my heart. Every good, bad and ugly season of life. Every path I go down. 

There is a right way to navigate it. God wants to show us the way to live victoriously for Him. He wants to lead us through the really hard things and come out whole and holy on the other side. He wants to speak. 

But the truth of the matter is I have to let Him. He is not going to drag me kicking and screaming down the path of righteousness. I have to yield. I have to say "Yes Lord, lead me! Have your way! I’m listening." 

I’m discovering it’s never too late to get in step behind Him and follow in a given situation. It’s never too late to scream, “I’m lost here! I need some directions please! Show me the way!” 

It’s a humbling discovery to make, but it’s never too late to get on the righteous path and start following. I’m learning to pray for God to show me His path of righteousness for the complicated places in my life, those places I’m at a total loss on how to precede. 

Since expectations can be so tricky for me, I’m asking God to enable me to live in a place where my expectation is that He will lead me. 

“My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation.” Psalm 62:5 

When you think about it, we are always on a path headed somewhere. God’s path promises life, light, love and goodness even though it winds through the high mountains and takes us through painful valleys. 

The truth is I will travel the mountain and the valley regardless. I want to go being led by a faithful Shepherd who knows the way and can lead me on the right paths. 

I choose the path full of light and love and abundant life please! And here’s to hoping there is a Starbucks somewhere along the path!

The 26.2: No Excuses

So every once in a while, I have milestone moments. 

You know the ones that are so epic, so rare that they end up defining a whole season of life. Changing my outlook. Moments that leave me saying “did that really just happen?” Forks in the road that lead to me to new lands. 

Definitely childbirth is on that list. The day I said I do and became a wife to the most wonderful man on the planet. Yep, that was a life changer. Surrendering my life to Jesus. Completely revolutionary. 

And then there is The 26.2. 

It pales in comparison, of course, to the list I’ve just rattled off. 

But, just barely. 

It was November of 2011. My running girls were tossing around the marathon idea and I have to say it was a bit like a polite game of hot potato meets throwing down the gauntlet, daring the brave ones to step up and show us what you’re made of. 

Running a marathon was on my bucket list for sure, but it was definitely written in pencil. It was a take it or leave it item that I’m not so sure I was all that serious about. 

But here it was. Starring me in the face. Daring me. And I felt something in my heart sing It’s now or never. The timing was right. 

So I registered. 

I remember the moment I pressed enter on the registration page felt a little bit like the moment I knew I was pregnant for the first time. Elated. Challenged. Scared. A little sickish, and a whole lotta what did I just get myself into? 

Will I have what it takes? Can I handle this pressure? My knees?? What about my knees? 

With all the self doubt running amuck and excuses choking every breath, I had a decision to make. Right then and there I had to name the year. 2012 became my year of “No Excuses.” 

It had to be. 

I knew that to see this commitment through to the finish line I was going to have to be vigilant. Dedicated. The captain of a tight ship. A little less like my normal self and a whole lot more like the person I hope to become. 

But to be honest, that’s about all I knew. Little did I know how that initial commitment would soon turn into a way of life, that “No excuses” would be the very theme that woke me up at the ungodly hour of 6am to run 12 miles in the pouring rain. No excuses would teach me to analyze I every piece of food, every drink, based on it’s ability to fuel my body to help it achieve the unthinkable task I was asking it to do.  IT band issues, ice baths, sore muscles, mental defeat, blisters, losing toenails, 18 miles in snow flurries. Chaffing. And did I mention ICE BATHS?! 

No excuses. 

Run.

Because the experience was such a personal life changer for me, I’m certain this is the first of many posts about The 26.2. But with every epic tale, I have to start at the beginning. And the beginning for me was that day I registered and decided in my heart “No Excuses”. 

Did I know completely what this would require of me? No. How could I? But much like marriage and parenting and every amazingly awesome but wickedly hard journey God calls us to, The 26.2 was much more than just a registration. And it was much more than a race. Oh no, my friends. It became a cocoon of transformation that God would use to change me. It became a living, breathing illustration for me of that amazing race that we are running called life. 

I love how the Bible written so long ago by men who I have so little in common with by all other accounts, liken the Christian life to being in a race. While I had understood it in theory, I feel as if The 26.2 gave me a tangible story of my own to cling to and understand. Words like endurance and perseverance suddenly began to leap off the page at me and say “Hey! remember me? We met at mile 22.”  

It makes so much more sense to me now.  At registration, very little is required of you. But, by golly, a whole lot is expected of you by the end of that race. 

I once heard it said that salvation is both an act and a process. The moment I believe on the Lord Jesus and placed my trust in Him alone to save me, I was saved completely. I was saved from myself, from sin, from Hell. 

But I wasn’t just saved from something. I was saved to Someone—Jesus, and to a life of daily transformation into His image.  

So that day I signed up was a huge first step. But then the real work starts. The training.  Really, the decision to race means very little if I now don’t act on that decision everyday to prepare to finish the race. If I don’t equip myself, ready my muscles, condition my heart and prepare my mind to endure, will I finish well? I want to finish my life having worked my faith out hard, backing up that first commitment to Christ with a lifetime of training (Phil 2:12). 

Even when it’s hard and I don’t feel like it. It’s time for the process of training to take over and change me. Taking me to places I never thought I could go. Learning to exert what I want over what my body wants. Exercising to a point that I stretch, learn, grow and change. Teaching myself to pay attention and not just do what I feel, but rather do what is best and what will help me achieve my goal. Pushing through the sore places and irritations. Always keeping the end in mind. What is ahead is worth it. Stay strong. Don’t give up. 

No Excuses.

Run.

There would be no race without the registration. But equally so, there would be no finish line without the training. 

Both are required. Both are necessary. 

Every great work in us and through us has a starting place. A birthplace. A launchpad. We have to sign up. We have to have the courage to say yes. 

Then we must honor that starting place by putting feet to our faith, and just get moving, trusting that God has the plan and the process to get us to the finish line. 

Trust the training. God knows what He is doing. And let me tell you, there is nothing more glorious than rounding the corner to see that finish line! 

No Excuses!

“Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans, cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, 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 are in. Study how he did it. Because He never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilaration finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: cross, shame, whatever. And now He is there, in the place of honor, right alongside God.” Hebrews 12:1-2 The Message Bible

EMO for Jesus

So I’ve recently discovered I’m a bit of an emotional handful. How’d I come to that conclusion you ask? Hmmmm. Well let’s see. There was a lot of crying, some whimpering and I vaguely remember being curled up in a fetal position and my kids asking Dad if Mommy was going to be okay. 

I’m not talking about the kind of emotional that everyone experiences, you know, the tearing up at a Folgers’s commercial from time to time. I’m talking about a gut wrenching, incapacitating, messy kind of emotion where there is some borderline irrational craziness happening. 

I know there is a whole group of you reading this now that know me and would like to talk me out of this assessment of myself. And then there are the few, the proud and the brave who have seen me at the brink and they are saying “Geesh! You are JUST NOW realizing this? What took you so long?”  

My relationship with my feelings has been a touchy one and here is why. 

They have lied to me. On more than one occasion. 

And once you’ve been deceived, trust is just hard to come by. And also, the weight of emotions—the sadness, the grief and sorrow—seems wrong because they can be so heavy. So controlling. So bossy. That something must be wrong with me because I feel so fragile, easily broken by the sorrowful things in my world. 

So I’ve tried toughening up. I’ve man handled my feelings to attempt to create the feelings I want instead of the feelings I’m having-- all in the name of holy living. A practice I now acknowledge as holy stuffing. Somewhere along the line I’ve believed that airing your feelings isn’t right or good or holy. So I just swallow it. There are pros and cons to this habit of mine, but topping the cons list is the eventual end of my holy stuffing results in something resembling a volcanic eruption spewing hot, deathly lava on anyone who happens to be in my path when I finally encounter that last straw. And can I just say right here that blowing your top is not very holy? Not holy at all. 

My wrestling with all of this, of course, desperately drives me to the One who promises me wisdom if I just ask. So I take Him up on it.  In my estimation, I come to Him with a pretty funny question.

Why am I so emotional? Is it part of the curse of sin? I know emotions are good, but why do they feel so bad sometimes? Most of the time? I mean was Eve crazy emotional? 

I laugh a little as I write that last part, but honestly, this is where my nutty EMO self has landed me and I needed some answers and some “how to”--and fast.  I open up my Bible and I read this descriptor of Jesus,

  “He is despised and rejected by men, A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” Isaiah 53:3 

And right at that moment, I sense the whisper of God saying 

I’m emotional too. Your emotions are of me. Their control of you is not of me. And there’s your trouble.

I go on to read Isaiah 53 foretelling how Jesus would feel grief and sadness and sorrow. How He would suffer and die for the sins of the world, so we could be reconciled to God all the while feeling every emotion possible and yet not sinning. Not only did He not sin, He carried the sin of the world. My sin. Talk about weight.  

I think of how many times I’ve allowed my emotions to rule my thoughts, justify my wrong behavior, excuse myself from doing the right thing, side track and side line me from life because I just couldn’t possibly handle it. 

And herein lies my example for being rightly related to my emotions: Jesus felt it all, but it did not govern Him. God the Father alone governed his heart and life. His emotions did not rule Him, but rather they fueled Him to seek the face and strength of His Father to accomplish His purpose on the earth.

And so the question I’m left with is “Who governs this heart? Who is in charge here?” 

Hands down, I know the answer to this question in the big picture of my life.  What I’m realizing though is it’s my answer in the dark of the night, when chaos abounds and temptation is knocking and my emotions are all running amuck that matters. 

My questions then turn to prayers, to pleadings for God to be the gatekeeper of my heart.  I ask Him to teach me to bring my emotions to Him, to help me to sift, sort, think and evaluate based on what is true and right. To counsel this stubborn and fickle heart about building my house on the rock rather than the shifting sand of my ever changing emotions. To learn to stay in the posture of waiting on God until my emotions are saturated with grace and truth. I’m learning to abide in His presence until my emotions no longer rule, but rather fuel my steps to go to deeper places with Jesus. My emotions are becoming indicators, warning lights to check into what’s really going on under the hood, not impulses to be obeyed. A “Service heart soon” light that blinks continuously reminding me I need God’s presence to sort this out before I go any further down the road. 

After my Holy Spirit counseling session and we’ve debrief all my willy nilly emotions, issues and faulty thinking and God has purified, sanctified and righted all my off base conclusions, then I can receive my marching orders.  Actions that are steeped in God’s wisdom not my emotions. A life that is effective, purposeful and powerful where my emotions are utilized for God’s grand purposes not my futile excuses. 

All of this has led to a fresh new season both in my relationship with God and my emotions as I’m exchanging emotional rule for fuel. I’m trading in my label of “Emotional handful” for “EMO for Jesus".  

And let me tell you something: It feels good.