My purse is too heavy!

Today I am booked for my first ever speaking engagement. I know I'm called to do this sort of thing, but I definitely do not feel qualified. When a sweet pastor's wife called to invite me to speak at their church's mother-daughter luncheon, I asked if there was going to be a theme. She said "purses". I have to say I was stumped. After we hung up, I prayed, "Lord, help me!", and then I waited for a bit.

I started thinking about my purse, and then I thought about how junky it always gets. Most of the time I'm ashamed for anyone to see inside of it. This bothers me, yet I continue to carry all my junk around, no matter how heavy it gets or how much it hurts my shoulder. I often look in my purse and actually start clenching my jaw. How ridiculous to let the contents of my purse stress me out in this way! But sometimes I almost feel like the mess inside my purse runs parallel to the state of affairs in my messy life. So then I started thinking about all my baggage, and I thought of the many burdens I tend to carry. And then He gave me a scripture...

1 Peter 5:6  Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time,  7  casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.

I thought back over the things I've been through, and how the Lord has used every ounce of pain for my good, to refine me and to draw me into His presence. And I thought about how the load I carry these days is much, much lighter than it used to be. Then I started to ponder what has made the difference for me. I thought about how I'm learning to love Him more. I'm learning to hear Him speak. I'm learning to live by His grace. I'm learning to cling to His word. I'm learning to cast my cares upon Him and let Him carry my baggage for me. He has cleaned out my purse, and it feels amazing.

I've been asked to provide some encouragement to these women I'm speaking to by reminding them to look to God in the good times and bad. As I've continued to pray about this event today, the Lord has given me a list of things we can do to "clean out our purses" and unload all the baggage that so weighs us down.

• Trust in the sovereignty of God (Isaiah 55:8-9)
• Make Jesus our central focus (John 15:5)
• Walk in the Spirit (Romans 8:5-6)
• Spend time with Him (Luke 10:38-42)
• Forget the past and ask Him for a new start (Isaiah 43:18-19)

I know none of this really has anything to do with purses, but I see the symbolism here. If we work toward doing all these things, we really don't have to bear the weight of our burdens anymore. We can trust that God is in control. We can shift our focus from all the things of the world to the only One that matters. We can learn to walk in love rather than carry the baggage that comes from poor choices made while in the flesh. We can grow deeper spiritually through time spent with Him rather than wasting time on things that pull us away from Him. And perhaps the most freeing of all, we can put all the painful parts of our past to rest and look ahead to a bright future with the One Who brings hope to the hopeless. 

He wants us to cast our cares upon Him. He wants to carry my purse, even though it's way too heavy. He wants to carry your purse, too---whether it's an over-stuffed suitcase or a keychain wallet that hardly weighs a thing. What amazing love! 

Please pray for me and for the women I'm speaking to around lunch time today! 

Peace, be still

Thunderstorms scare me to death. They always have, from the time I was little. I used to wake up in the night during storms as a child and run to my parents' room to crawl in bed with them. They had a big bay window that made the lightning look even scarier. Still, it was better than being alone.

I hadn't thought about my old habit of doing that for a very long time. But then one night around two years ago, I found myself sleeping between my parents again. I felt like a child that night in my thirty-seven-year-old body. This was a very different type of storm, much more severe than any I had weathered before---one that made me doubt I would ever see clear skies again. I had tried to rest that night, but sleep eluded me. When my dad heard me still up, he took me and put me in his spot in the bed with my mother, and then he slept in his chair right next to me. I relaxed a little being between them like that, but still I knew this storm was indeed a terrible one, and it wasn't going to blow away for quite some time.

With all the recent storms in our North Texas area, I've thought a lot lately about that scenario. I have wonderful parents, but despite their burning desire to fix all that was wrong in my life, there was very little they could do. The bigger storms of life call for an even bigger God, and I'm thankful I have my God Almighty to help me weather those tumultuous times that are just too horrific to endure alone.

I've also thought lately about another huge storm that occurred a couple of weeks following the night I've just described. Grief-stricken over the recent events in my life, I was on my way to visit a new church. I didn't feel like going, but a friend had invited me and had said that her pastor and some others wanted to pray for me. Not wanting to refuse prayer at a time like this, I forged ahead and determined to go in spite of some impending bad weather. Little did I know that God had big plans for our family regarding our future in this church. And it was all to begin on this night. No wonder a storm was brewing.

The heavy winds and rain were already blowing in as I arrived, and I ran into the sanctuary soaked and freezing. By the time the service began, it was pouring rain and thundering more loudly than I had ever heard before. I was absolutely terrified, and I remember thinking Why on earth is this storm scaring me so badly after all I've just been through? I don't understand what's wrong with me! But in the midst of all the distraction of that storm, the congregation began to worship. And then the Holy Spirit fell---and my fear left immediately. Suddenly I didn't care about the thunder anymore. I didn't care about the strong winds or the heavy rains. I just wanted to savor the presence of the Lord because in that place and on that night, in the midst of the turmoil both outdoors and in my heart, He brought peace to His wounded child. He surrounded me, He fell upon me, He filled me. Peace, be still. I'll never forget what His peace felt like in that moment; it was indescribable. He was helping me learn to run into the shelter of His presence when the downpour got to be more than I could bear.


Mar 4:39  He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace, be still!" And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.

Just when I think my skies are clear, and just when I begin to take fair weather for granted, those pesky clouds blow in again. More often than I'd like, it storms. The conditions vary greatly in severity, but no matter whether the clouds bring a light shower or a raging tempest, I know where I can find Peace.


Mar 4:41 And they feared exceedingly, and said to one another, "Who can this be, that even the wind and the sea obey Him!"

I'm thankful I don't have to ask "Who can this be?". I know exactly Who He is. He is my Shelter, my Strong Tower, the Calmer of My Storms. When my soul is in turmoil, He cares more than I could ever comprehend. He is faithful to rescue me from the pandemonium. Miracles happen when He speaks words of peace over me.

I still don't like storms. However, I have come to appreciate them because they allow me the privilege of experiencing His wondrous peace in the midst of chaos. As unpleasant as they are, I do not have to be afraid of storms. Peace, be still.

My Healer

Isaiah 53:5  But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed.

I always thought that healing was merely something to ask for when someone got sick. As a child I used to read the prayer lists in the church bulletin every Sunday. I grew up hearing my pastor and our deacons pray for sick church members. I've grown to love reading the accounts in the gospels where Jesus healed the sick. I have witnessed my own sick daughter prayed for and then watched her break into a sweat as her fever broke before our very eyes by the end of the prayer. There is power in the name of Jesus.

But since I've never had any real health problems, I never thought much about needing healing for myself. And then tragedy struck our home and family, and my world was turned upside down. Suddenly my life was in such upheaval that I very quickly came to understand the need for a healing of a very different type than any I had ever considered before.  I had no choice but to turn to my Healer and beg Him to pick up the fragments of my shattered soul.

Psalm 147:3  He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

It wasn't easy in those early days as I was learning to fill the void in our family with Jesus. I was tortured for a very long time with flashbacks of horrible things I saw and heard on the day of our tragedy. I began to cling to scriptures that promised healing, and my new thirst for the Word was very different from my quest to learn and recite memory verses each week as a child. This time, I felt I would die without His precious promises. Without the assurance of His healing, I felt completely hopeless.

Countless people prayed for us during those months, and I always noticed that they prayed in faith, believing that God would grant what they were asking Him for. They believed that He would answer their pleas on our behalf---that He would heal us, that we would be blessed abundantly, and that He would turn all the bad in our lives to good. So through the example of some amazing prayer warriors, and because I could see the work He was already doing in our lives, little by little my faith increased and I began to more fervently claim healing for my family. Today I know Jesus in a much deeper way than I ever did before. I personally know Him as Healer of the brokenhearted.

Just as surely as Jesus defeated death and overcame the enemy, and just as surely as He took away our sins and rose from the dead, through that same incredible power He can most certainly bring healing to us today, in whatever ways we need it. He still does miracles every day. He heals the sick...He reunites broken homes and families...He repairs friendships...He revives churches..and He restores souls.

Lord Jesus, as I meditate on Your sacrifice for me on this Resurrection Sunday morning, I humbly attempt to express to You my gratitude. I believe You are my Healer. Thank You for all You suffered so that I could be healed, forgiven, and blessed with eternal life---for this was the greatest miracle of all.

True sacrifice

John 12:3 Then Mary took a pound of very costly oil of spikenard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil.

I've been thinking about Jesus's time spent at Bethany before His death on the cross. I'm thinking of Mary and the very costly alabaster flask of oil. And I'm thinking about the extravagance with which she poured out her love for her Savior as she anointed Him for burial. She was reprimanded by others in the room for such a costly gesture, but loving Him was all that mattered to her.

Meditating on this scene leads me to some much-needed self-examination. How well do I show Jesus that I love Him? Would I be willing to give up as much as Mary did? I would love to think so, but I admit with regret that I fall painfully short. If I am honest, loving Him in this day and time doesn't cost me much of anything. I might faithfully pay my tithes and offerings, I might give to those in need, and I might give of my time and talents, but my sacrifice seems so insignificant when compared to Mary's.

It's so easy to say "I love Jesus". But on this Good Friday morning, I wonder how I can best live those words. It's not possible this side of Heaven for me to anoint Him the way Mary did. And He doesn't need my money (although I feel it's very important to give back to Him a portion of what He has given me).

Perhaps I can best show my love to Him by presenting myself each day as a living sacrifice to Him. Perhaps I could please Him most by allowing Him to refine me and purify me and make me holy. Perhaps it would matter most to Him if I were to apply His teachings to my life and let Him mold me into His image. Perhaps He simply wants me to share the good news of the gift of His salvation with a lost and dying world. For me, all of this is true sacrifice because none of it is easy. People might not understand. I might become known as a Jesus freak. I have to be careful not to draw attention. I can't just go around proclaiming that "I love Jesus"...

...or can I? I don't want to care anymore what others think. Mary didn't.

So...again I find myself praying Lord, make me a Mary. Help me abandon my worries over what others think. Help me understand what true sacrifice means, and help me make this application to my life every single day so that I may love You more completely. Help me never to take You for granted, and please accept my grossly inadequate thankYou for all You did for me at the cross.You were the Ultimate Sacrifice, and You are the One True Example of what it really means to love. 

Who He is to me

This past Palm Sunday, my pastor posed the question ,"Who is Jesus to you?". What a worthy question to ponder with Easter quickly approaching. I am absolutely overcome when I think about who Jesus is and all He has come to mean to me. It's so easy to take Him for granted, but He's much, much more than just a man who died on a cross.

I can't believe what He did for me. Utterly blameless and without sin, He bore all my shame, all my sin, every evil thought, every ugly thing I have ever done or ever will do. He was the pure and spotless Lamb of God, yet He was beaten and tortured as though He were responsible for all the sin of the world across the entire span of time, from beginning to end. Just thinking of what He suffered due to my sin alone brings me to tears and brokenness.

His precious blood was poured out for me on a cruel cross, and by His wounds I am healed and justified and redeemed. When He looks at me He sees me as spot-free and without blemish. I can't even fathom how this is possible because I know me. I know all the ugliness in my heart. I know my ungodly thoughts and actions. Yet through His sacrifice He has purified me and made me as white and innocent and clean and holy as He is. I am so unworthy.

He fills the void in our home and makes up for everything that's missing. When I hear a beautiful love song that makes me want to cry, He fills that empty place in my dreams left by the man who might have sung to me. When I get one of those silly personal survey emails and read that heartbreaking "Who is the love of your life?" question, Jesus is my answer. He's the One whose unfailing love brings healing to my broken heart. Gentle and lowly, He is the true picture of genuine humility. Jesus lovingly encourages me to take His yoke and hand Him my burdens. He yearns for me to cry out to Him, and He faithfully runs to me even when I refuse to run to Him. Corrie ten Boom said it so well..."You can never learn that Christ is all you need until He is all you have."

Jesus is the One by Whom I have all authority over the enemy. He defeated all the powers of hell through His death and resurrection, and His every victory also belongs to me through the shedding of His blood on the cross. The mere mention of His name brings healing, peace, comfort, wisdom, direction, and rest. He still does miracles, even today. He is right there with me in the furnace and through every fire, and he goes to battle for me without fail. Jesus is the One whose arms are around me when others cause me pain. I am in Him, and when my enemies hurt me, He shields me and protects me and makes it all bearable.

Jesus is the One I want others to see when they see me. He is the One I want others to hear when I speak. I want to know Him more, and I want to love others with His love. I don't understand why God sent His precious Son to this cruel world so that I might have abundant life. I have children, and I know how much it hurts me when they suffer even a tiny little scratch. How painful it must have been for my Father in heaven to watch all His Son endured. And all for the likes of me. I don't deserve it.

I haven't the vocabulary to articulate all that Jesus really is to me, so let me just say that Jesus astounds me every single day with His amazing love. He is worthy of all my praise, and if I tried for the rest of my life, I would never be able to praise Him like He deserves. I fail Him every day, but He never, ever fails me. His grace and mercy flows abundantly into every part of my life every time I fall short, covering me, cleansing me, and making me new. He overwhelms me; He is my Everything.

Running

Isaiah 40:29 He gives power to the weak, and to those who have no might He increases their strength.  30 Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall,  31 but those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

I've always been terrible at sports, but I was thinking this weekend that I have sure done a lot of running.  I've run toward many things...I've run toward different goals of a certain salary, a specific weight, or an additional degree. I've run toward places in hopes of finding peace or contentment or escape. I've run to people, hoping that they would know what to say or do or prescribe to help me solve life's problems. I've even run to the mall in pursuit of gratification through material gain. So although I dislike running in the physical sense, I am thinking today about just how much running I've done over the course of my life.

I ran my first ever 5K yesterday. I didn't really train for it the way I should have, due a little bit to illness and a lot to lack of self-discipline. But yesterday morning as I was getting ready to run, I started regretting not preparing better; I started to really wish I could run the entire race.

I decided I would start out jogging and just see how far I could get before I had to slow to a walk. But the farther into it I got, the more I started hoping I could just keep running to the finish line.  One of my new favorite Gateway Worship songs, "Running" was playing on my iPod, and it occurred to me to just ask the Lord if He would help me be able to do it. But I had some fears. I was afraid I would have a heart palpitation. I was afraid my legs would give out, or that I would have a coughing fit. I was afraid I looked silly and amateurish trying to run in the midst of so many more experienced runners who had come well prepared for this race. But I kept going.

As I ran, I began to consider that this race I was running is much like my life. I experience fear and discouragement every day. I'm not in the same place as other people like me, and I haven't a clue how or when or if I'll ever get there. I seldom ever feel like I'll be able to keep going in life, and I grow weary trying.

But as I ran my race yesterday, new strength rose up in me---a strength I didn't expect. The further I ran, the more hopeful I grew that I might just be able to finish after all. Then it occurred to me that this is exactly the way the Lord encourages me to go on and live my life. I was overwhelmed as I began to reflect on the way He strengthens me enough to keep me running right on through the wind and the rain and all the other obstacles if only I'm willing to step out in faith and just run.

I finished my race having run all five kilometers. I didn't expect that I would be able to, but the Lord gave me the grace to accomplish this feat in spite of my fears, my lack of preparation, and my unbelief that I could do it. He does this for me in the scheme of my life every day.

Today I am aching so badly that my sore muscles won't even allow me to go up the stairs. I liken this to the way life beats me up sometimes. I run the race, and even though He helps me clear the hurdles and conquer the snags, I am often left feeling beaten up and in pain. But if I let Him push me, running the race of life makes me stronger. When I let Him help me overcome the roadblocks, I am energized to not only keep going, but to run more passionately than ever toward the finish line. How can I not when I know Who is waiting there? And like the people along the sidelines yesterday, He cheers me on right up to the end.

My girls and me

How I walk now

Romans 8:5  For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit, the things of the Spirit. 6 For to be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.

Maybe it shouldn't be funny to me, but I laugh at how my fourteen-year-old son describes it when I lose my temper. He says I "go all crazy" on him. Mind you, he's the same kid who says I'm "yelling" at him even if it's only a gentle correction delivered in my normal speaking voice. But as much as I hate to admit it, all too often he's right. When things don't go my way, I have to work very hard not to go completely nuts. For most of my life I have exercised no restraint when it came to holding my tongue, keeping my voice low, refraining from throwing things, saying things I shouldn't, or any other form of self-control. I cringe when I consider how much I really do have to be ashamed of regarding my behavior, both past and present.

My problem is that I tend to walk each day in the flesh rather than in the Spirit. In the flesh, I see everyday occurrences as irritations...I see people as annoying...I see every little nuisance as just another addition to my ever-increasing mountain of stress...and I always think yelling will somehow make me feel better, so I just give in and throw my fits. But the truth is that reacting in fits of rage doesn't make me feel the least bit better. Instead it brings feelings of guilt and condemnation and regret for being such a poor example to those I love and whom God has entrusted to my care.

But the Lord has taught me that the road to real peace requires me to walk in the Spirit. In the Spirit, I strive to be like Jesus. I choose to love people rather than merely put up with them. I see life's little nuisances not as permission to blow my fuse, but as opportunity to exhibit patience. I choose to speak words that build up and exhort rather than tear down and discourage. In the Spirit, I see everything in a completely different light. The things that matter to me when in the flesh just aren't nearly as big a deal anymore, and even more importantly, when I walk in the Spirit, others will know it because they will see fruit.

Galatians 5:22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, self-control. Against such there is no law. 24 And those who are Christ's have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.

There is no way I can bear fruit while yelling, throwing things, or any other form of "going all crazy". It's a conscious decision I have to make daily, hourly, even moment by moment. And the more determined I am to walk in the Spirit, the more determined the enemy is to throw things in my path to trip me up. Just this morning I told myself that no matter how many things were going wrong to make me late for work, I would not succumb to my old habits and throw a fit. Despite my stressful week filled with late-night ball games, church functions, programs at work,  and preoccupation with the busy weekend ahead, I really, really did not want to go nuts. I wanted to walk in the Spirit. But the traffic finally did me in, and I reverted to my fleshly ways for a moment. Disappointed in myself, I quickly repented and then apologized to my one child who witnessed my fit (incidentally, the same son who calls episodes like this "going all crazy"). I went on to have a good day--but then tonight, guess what I did? I had another moment and went nuts...again.

Galatians 6:8 For he who sows to his flesh will of the flesh reap corruption, but he who sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit reap everlasting life.

The battle against flesh is never-ending. I'm so thankful that it's all under the Blood and I am covered by His grace. I get to start over again and again, as many times as it takes. But of one thing I am certain: there is nothing good about my flesh. The only thing good in me is Jesus. In Him I am fruitful, and to live by His Holy Spirit brings life and love and peace.

Thank you, Lord, for teaching me to walk in Your Spirit, and thank You that You are a God of infinite chances. Help me to live my life in a way that I may bear Your fruit. Do whatever You have to do in me to make me even more fruitful with each passing day.

I'm listening

Isaiah 55:11  So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return to Me void, but it shall accomplish what I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.

One thing I have learned...God is always speaking to us. My whole life, He has been speaking to me--I was just unwilling to listen. 

When I found myself on my own to manage life and raise my kids, I learned very quickly that I desperately need to hear Him speak to me--and often. So one of my most fervent prayers became "Lord, let me hear Your voice." When you pray for something like that, you'd better get ready because He wants to answer!

I've always been guilty of telling Him what I want and then praying "Lord, please let this be Your will"...and then going right ahead with my plans without a thought as to what He really had to say about it. This kind of behavior has gotten me into some pretty bad scrapes.

But He has lovingly chastened me over the years and has helped me realize that what I truly want is His will--even if it means waiting or getting something other than what I'm asking for--because anything other than His will is not the best for me. Once I began truly seeking Him and pleading with Him to tell me what to do, where to go, whom to call, what to say, how to respond, how much to spend, or whether I can trust, etc., I began to notice that my days became filled with intimate two-way conversation between my Heavenly Father and me. Life is so much different when we have the wisest Counselor of the entire universe to speak to us and help us live our lives and make our decisions.

God speaks in many ways. Much of the time He uses well-known scriptures that suddenly apply in very new and different ways to my problems. Often He reveals scripture I've never seen before. Or He might deliver a word through a friend, a relative, or even a stranger, and when what they have to say touches me in a deep and unexpected way, I sense an anointing on their words and know He has spoken. And sometimes He chooses to allow His Holy Spirit to reveal certain things directly to my heart, and I simply know and receive what He is saying to me. And because I am a doubting Thomas, He remains faithful to provide confirmation through His word or through other people...or sometimes both.

Isaiah 42:9  Behold, the former things have come to pass. And new things I declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them.

For me, the challenge is in believing Him and in having faith in what He has told me because in the very moment I decide that I do trust Him, that I do believe what He says, I'm hit with the enemy's crafty attempts to distract me and cloud my vision and make it seem like there is no way I could have heard correctly. Through Satan's relentless badgering, my thoughts begin to turn away from the Truth. ...I knew that didn't make sense...I was stupid to think that God would speak to me...there is no possible way what I thought He said to me could really happen--just look at how bad things are!

But the Truth always wins. He confirms to me yet again that He is always at work for my good, that He is Truth and He cannot lie, and that I must have faith in what He has said to me. His word was true for Noah, for Abraham, for Moses, for Joshua, for Mary, for Zacharias, for Paul, and for countless others down through the ages...and His word is just as true for me today.

Luke 1:45  Blessed is she who believed, for there will be a fulfillment of those things which were told her from the Lord.

He led me to this scripture to confirm something to me yesterday--something very far-fetched that He spoke into my heart over a year ago. So despite how things look, despite how the enemy wants to discourage me, despite my failed attempts to make sense of it all, and despite my inability to work out in my mind how it could possibly come to pass, I will believe that He has told me the truth, and I will not lose faith. I will watch with an expectant heart as His plan unfolds.


Thank you, Lord that You speak to me the way You do. I don't know how I could ever make it in this life without hearing Your voice. Please help me to trust in Your word; help me to have faith until You bring it to pass in Your perfect timing. May it be to me as You have said. Amen.

He promised me

Isaiah 61:1 "...He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; 2 ...to comfort all who mourn, 3 to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness...."

Beauty for ashes. It's one of His promises I have come to cherish the most. I believe that the more deeply we have experienced the anguish of a life seemingly destroyed by unbearable circumstances, the greater degree to which we can experience hope in this promise.

I'll never forget the tapestry illustration. In a message I heard just days after I became widowed, my very wise and eloquent pastor compared life to a tapestry. He explained that here on earth we can only see the back side of the tapestry, with frayed clumps of string dangling everywhere, imperfect stitches all knotted up and messy. But God is on His throne working on the most glorious work of art we could ever imagine. He is using everything we perceive as ugly and imperfect in our lives, weaving all of it into His design, making His handiwork all the more beautiful. He sees His artwork in its entirety, and from His viewpoint, it's magnificent. The tapestry analogy brought untold comfort during a time when all I could see around me was the smoldering ruins of a life I had once thought to be solid.

But He promised me beauty for ashes. He said He would turn my mourning into joy and replace my heavy spirit with one of praise. He was sent to comfort me, to heal my broken heart, and to set me free. Now, those are promises to cling to in the midst of turmoil. What else can we do when things seem infinitely hopeless? Living through a trial, if we've sought God along the way, the beauty of His plan eventually becomes apparent to us. We might not understand all He's doing, but as He continually blesses us during the painful times, we develop a trust in the sovereignty of His master plan.

In spite of the progress I've made, though, I still have days when life's problems seem insurmountable. I look around and find myself back to a place where I can see nothing but the ash heap, and the haze in the air masks all the beauty in my life. It's not easy on these days to remember and cling to His promises. Today has been one of those days for me. But He is ever faithful in clearing the air, and this morning He did it by blessing me with a scripture from a good friend:

Psalm 138:8  The Lord will perfect that which concerns me; Your mercy, O Lord, endures forever; do not forsake the works of Your hands.

So, I am back to clinging. I will surrender my worries to Him. He is perfecting that which concerns me. He is making everything beautiful, and I will trust Him. Beauty for ashes...I will rest in this promise today.

Dwelling

Philippians 4:8  Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.

I’m a dweller. I tend to over-analyze everything. I dwell on what has happened in the past, what should have happened but didn’t, what might happen in the future, what is happening now, and even what should be happening now but isn’t. I’m sure you get the ridiculous picture. But the fact is that I’m really not in control of anything. Life happens, and my circumstances overwhelm me--and I begin to dwell, usually on the negatives. I obsess, I stress, I lose my temper, I cry, I throw fits--and life just becomes one big stormy mess. The winds rage and the waters swirl around me, rising higher and overtaking me.  And the more I focus on what’s going on around me, the louder and scarier and more threatening the storm becomes.

But if I can just get still and quiet enough to listen, the Holy Spirit reminds me that my focus is off. He shows me that I can have His peace if only I will take my eyes off of the storm and look toward the center and upward and focus on my Savior rather than my circumstances. I can choose what to dwell on. I can choose to think about good things--things that are pure and lovely, things that are noble and just and of virtue. I can choose to dwell on the blessings in my life, and there are too many of them to count. I can actively begin to praise Him for taking care of me, thanking Him in faith that He is going to rescue me and shield me from the storms of life. His peace is there for me to receive, and I’m crazy to choose to dwell on my circumstances rather than dwelling on my Jesus. When I keep my eyes on Jesus, nothing else matters, and I can rest in Him and trust in His sovereign hand at work in my life.

Back during my earliest stages of mourning, at times I was so wracked with grief that it became a physical issue. Sometimes I literally felt a "pressing in" on my chest to the point where I found it difficult to breathe. It happened a lot when I was alone and driving. I remember feeling like I was drowning, and I would have to gasp for air. I learned in these moments to listen to and dwell on the words to “I Need Thee Every Hour”. I’m sure I must’ve listened to that old hymn a thousand times by now. But the Lord used those words to teach me just how desperately I need Him--that He is sufficient for me even when I feel I've lost everything.

There are certain things I can’t allow myself to dwell on anymore; certain memories are just too painful. But through it all I’ve learned that sometimes there’s really nothing else to do but turn my eyes to Him and just dwell there. It's amazing how He calms the storms in my life. The truth is that when I'm willing to keep my eyes on Him, my terrible circumstances suddenly don't seem all that terrible anymore. He helps me know where to dwell, keeping me focused so that I can meditate on all that’s good in my life—and that makes all the difference.

I Need Thee Every Hour

I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord;


No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.

          Refrain:
      I need Thee, oh, I need Thee;


                  Every hour I need Thee;
 

                  Oh, bless me now, my Savior,


                  I come to Thee.

I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby;


Temptations lose their pow’r when Thou art nigh.

I need Thee every hour, in joy or pain;


Come quickly and abide, or life is vain.

I need Thee every hour; teach me Thy will;


And Thy rich promises in me fulfill.

I need Thee every hour, most Holy One;


Oh, make me Thine indeed, Thou blessed Son.

~Annie S. Hawks, 1872 (Public Domain)

He meets me there

Romans 8:26 Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.

I remember the first time I felt the presence of the Lord—and I mean really, truly experienced Him as Comforter and knew in the depths of my soul that He was there in the room with me. It was the darkest night of my life, because earlier in the day I had learned that I was the focus of my husband’s death investigation. My school district had no choice but to send me home until things were resolved, and I knew I would not be allowed to come back to work for the remainder of the school year. So in addition to the heart-wrenching grief that came from the kind of loss I had suffered, I was now faced with the possibility of going to prison for a crime I did not commit. I was terrified for myself, and even more so for my kids. This was one of those points we come to in life in which there truly are no words to articulate the kind of prayer that needs to be prayed.

But in my anguish I remembered the Bible telling me that the Holy Spirit intercedes for us in times like these with groanings that cannot be uttered. That was what I needed that night—prayer much deeper than mere words—so I began to claim that scripture. Alone in my dad’s little study, the pitiful mess that I was, I began to cry out to God and beg the Holy Spirit to intercede for me. I begged.  I’ll never forget what He did. He came and met me there in that little room, right in that very moment. I felt Him literally cover my entire body, from head to toe. I didn’t need to see Him or hear Him. He was just there, and I sensed His presence to the depths of my being. It was really the first time I ever knew Him as Comforter, and I can’t describe the peace I experienced in His presence on that awful, awful night. The next morning I was amazed by phone calls we received from loved ones who knew nothing of our latest news, yet had been burdened to pray for me through the night. I’m thankful they were obedient, even though they didn’t know the full extent of the reason they were praying. That’s how the Holy Spirit works. He comforts me, He intercedes for me, and He burdens others to intercede for me.

There have been many such times since that experience. I know my family and friends love me, but there are simply times when no one understands because no one else is walking in my shoes. When I am in my most heartsick state of despair and there is nothing to do but weep and I feel utterly alone in the world, the Holy Spirit meets me there and comforts me. He reminds me that I am never, ever alone. And He continues to burden others to pray for me in those times when I desperately need prayer the most. He never ceases to amaze me. That’s why I take it to heart when I am burdened to pray for someone else, or maybe a name comes to mind and I just can’t let go of it. We never know what someone else is going through, and I am honored that He would choose me to make intercession for someone who needs it.

He always meets me there in those moments when I desperately need comfort, and He’ll meet you there, too.


Lord, thank you for making a way for us to experience Your presence through the gift of your precious Holy Spirit. Thank You that You intercede for me, and thank You that You burden others to make intercession for me. Help me to live my life in a way that never quenches Your Spirit, but rather extends to You an open invitation to make Yourself real and present to me every day.