Showing posts with label Discouragement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Discouragement. Show all posts

Wrong Turns or Detours?

Choices. So much to choose from. So many possible outcomes, so much promise, so much hope wrapped up in those choices.

But what happens when the choices and the hoped for possibilities fall flat?
What happens when the choice throws you to the ground?

What happens when you're left scratching your head trying to figure out what went wrong?

I can tell you what happens.
Once the stunned feeling wears off, you get up, brush yourself off, figure out where you are and which direction you need to head, and you go from there.

Each of those steps have become key to us.

  • Get up. Don't stay under the beast's hooves where you'll keep getting trampled. Don't stay in the mud puddle you've landed in.  Get. up.
  • Brush yourself off. So many things--usually yucky things--will cling to you when you get up. Brush them off and don't let them linger. They'll only slow you down and make you feel worse, even if you are out of the pit.
  • Figure out where you are and which direction you need to head. This could take some time. Often at this point your head is still swimming, like it did when you were a kid and you spun in circles to see who could spin the longest. If you try moving forward before your head clears, you won't make it too far before landing on the ground again. Or throwing up. Let your head clear so you can see and take stock of where you are. Then find the direction you need to go. You don't have to know specifics, for those first steps, a general direction will work for now.
  • Go from there. There's no magic button to push to instantly change where you are. You have to start where you are. Move forward. To do this, you have to quit looking back. Sure, know where you came from but don't become fixated on it! Face forward and take a step. Then another one.
The best news is that God is faithful--regardless of whether it was a wrong turn or a detour. Don't let go of His hand and believe...TRUST...that He's there with you. He is! He won't ever leave.

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name;
you are Mine!
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you.
When you walk through the fire, 
you will not be scorched,
nor will the flame burn you.
for I am the LORD you God,
The Holy One of Israel,
your Savior.

Isaiah 43: 1-3 NASB

From Where I Am

You know how it is—you’ve been gone so long that your first time back is awkward. You don’t know what to say, how to explain your absence, or even IF you should explain why you disappeared.

Sometimes things just can’t be explained.
Sometimes the explanation is still too raw. Too personal. Too close.

We’ve all been there at some point. And if you haven’t, you will. Trust me. You will.

This is where I am.
Trying to figure out if it’s time to come back.
Trying to figure out how to break the silence I’ve been in. Processing the pieces in my hand even while enjoying and treasuring those very pieces. It’s an odd and unexpected combination.

I’ve been living by that old maxim “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Only I tweaked it, as I’m prone to do, to “If you don’t have anything upbeat to say, don’t say anything at all.” Being a downer isn’t my style.

Neither was it King David’s. And I need to remember that. David was not a downer. He shouted and danced in praise and worship. He led his people in devotion and worship. But he certainly didn’t feel like it at times. There was nothing easy about his life that would make him an upbeat person. Life threw him many curve balls and it never went as he probably thought it should have, how he planned for it to go. I'm sure things happened to him that left him gasping for air to breathe. He cried and we still see his tears today. He stormed about and we still hear his indignant stomping today.

But he always came back to praise.


O God, You are my God; I shall seek You earnestly; 
My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You, 
In a dry and weary land where there is no water. 
Thus I have seen You in the sanctuary, 
To see Your power and Your glory. 
Because Your lovingkindness is better than life, My lips will praise You. 
So I will bless You as long as I live; I will lift up my hands in Your name. 
My soul is satisfied as with marrow and fatness, 
And my mouth offers praises with joyful lips. 
When I remember You on my bed, I meditate on You in the night watches, 
For You have been my help, 
And in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy. 
My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me. 
Psalm 63:1-8 NASB

A reminder for us as we hold the broken pieces pieces to make the mosaic of life.

It's time to let the praises ring. 

In spite of the tears.

Cuttings

I love my house plants. What can I say? I water them, talk to them and play Mozart for them and they love me for it—sure, they like the nice sunny house Jim built, but it's the Mozart they thrive on—much to my kids' dismay.

When my parents visited one time, my bamboo got a hair cut and I salvaged the cuttings by sticking them in a pretty little vase, figuring I had nothing to lose. Every so often I'd peer in, checking for signs of growth and finally I saw root nubbins. I was elated. I eyed the narrow neck of my vase and knew their life in there was limited...then life got busy. Guess who forgot about finding a new home for my bamboo cuttings? Yup. Me.

Weeks later I peered into my pretty little vase again. My elation was mixed with dread because there was a mass of roots—roots that wouldn't easily slip through that narrow neck. Rather than take care of it right away, like I should have, I put it off. Again. After awhile I noticed a start of a big main root and knew I'd waited too long.

I tried to be gentle. Truly I did. But I could hear the roots groaning as I wiggled the shoots, jockeying them into position to slide them out one at a time. The roots flexed and as I eased one shoot out, the second one fell into place and slid right out, almost painlessly. I heaved a sigh of relief as I set them in a water glass and checked out my vase. Only a few root hairs were in there, so maybe, just maybe, I didn't tear out too many roots and set the bamboo back too much.

There have been times God's given me a hair cut and gotten rid of things that were out of balance for where I was at that time in my life. Just like that bamboo was top heavy and needed trimming. When God trims me, us, back, He sometimes picks out choice cuttings to put in a vase so they can develop roots of their own in order to eventually be transplanted into their own pots where they grow and flourish.
"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope." ~Jeremiah 29:5 NAS
Nurture those cuttings as God sets them in vases—don't just cry over the trimming He gave you. Rejoice in it because those trim jobs allow you to become fuller and more beautiful—well rooted and not top heavy. He's the Master Gardner and He knows what's best. Allow Him full access and He'll grow you and shape you into a plant that flourishes for His glory. And that's the key: for His glory!

Happy growing!

Stepping Stones or Grave Stones?

If there's one thing I hear over and over in the writing circles I'm part of, it's that failures and rejections can be stepping stones. And it's not just in writing, it's in all of life.

Last fall I sent a requested proposal to my dream publishing house, the goal I've been targeting for years. Many weeks later I received a very nice letter from the editor I'd sent to saying they weren't interested in the manuscript. Rejected. BUT, she took the time to tell me why. She told me what was missing, giving me something concrete to work with.

So, I had two choices. I could see the rejection as a grave stone or as a stepping stone.

Since the proposal was requested as a result of Seekerville's Read Me Contest, I emailed Tina to give her the news and to thank her for the contest which gave me the opportunity. Her reply to me was wonderful. “This is exciting. You have gotten your first editorial critique! Time to revise!”

Rejection vs. editorial critique.
Grave stone vs. stepping stone.

Same exact number of letters, totally different results.

If I were to see that rejection letter as just a rejection, it could easily become a grave stone. I could let it become the excuse to quit writing fiction—for a time or forever. But, if I see it as a stepping stone, the experience becomes the first, and often scariest or hardest proposal under my belt and off my list of things to dread and worry about. Besides, I now know what I need to do to bring that manuscript up to par—through an editor's eyes.

Yes, I failed at my ultimate objective—a contract with my dream publisher, but I took great strides along the journey of reaching that goal. Not just that, but I know a few more things I need to do to help me along that journey toward that goal.

Just think about the game Mother May I. How often did you hear “No steps needed, you win”? (or something like that, LoL) You didn't. It was always a series of small or giant steps forward or backward until you eventually reached the goal.

So why do we expect to immediately reach our goals?
Why do we see failure as bad?

Failing is only bad if we see it as a grave stone on a project. If we see it as a stepping stone we can be happy that we are one step closer. And maybe, just maybe, it's NOT all about reaching the goal. Maybe it's about the journey and the witness we are along that journey or the glory we bring to God through that journey. We can't become so fixated on the goal that we miss all the other things along the way.

As Christians, if we see failures as grave stones, we are neutralized—no longer effective, and Satan wins that round. Certainly not what we want to happen.

It's a mental issue—how we choose to see the failure.
It's part of the war we're in—and wars are made up of many battles. Few wars are won with one decisive crushing victory—especially where our minds are concerned. That means every time we catch ourselves thinking of the failure as a grave stone, we need to stop, turn around and choose to see it as a stepping stone. It's a choice we may have to make many times a day.

So that rejection letter I received... was it a grave stone or a stepping stone? A stepping stone. I'm hard at work on the manuscript, adding in the elements the editor said it was missing and changing the things she mentioned so I can submit it somewhere else. And you know what? If this manuscript never finds a home, it has served its purpose—it's helped me along the journey of life, helped me face lots of fears I had and shown me many cool things. Even if the manuscript is committed to the Dust Bunnies and never sees the light of day, it will have been a stepping stone.

What about you? Is there a grave stone in your life you need to change to a stepping stone? Ask God to help you see it differently then step in faith and choose to think about it differently. It's the difference between stepping backward and forward—between neutralization and victory.

Focus: God's Faithfulness

This last week I realized one of the things that was really dragging me down: my focus. In one of the 1000+ comments on Seekerville's New Year's Eve party Tina Radcliffe said,

Tucked in the back of my bible is a saying from at least 15 years ago...

"The devil will have you look at how FAR you have to go-BUT INSTEAD, LOOK AT EVERY STEP YOU'VE TAKEN ALONG THE WAY"

It's important that once a year at least we stop and appreciate the journey.

That combined with things my sister Cheryl has been talking about at Sea Level 320 about storytelling and focus. She said

What I chose to focus upon is critical to what I'm trying to accomplish and convey.

I realized in all my thinking and analyzing last month I hadn't stopped and really focused on all that I did--all that God did in me. Missing that one key ingredient totally skewed how I felt, responded and thought about the upcoming year.



It's time for me to go back and see all that God did in me last year. It's time to celebrate those things. It's time to remember all God has done for me and remember He's brought me this far. He'll carry me through 2012 too.

It's time to focus on God's faithfulness, not my feelings. 
That's where the truth is.

Be sure to check the Cafe for more links to WFW


*Photo by courtesy of sxc.hu

Fear's Role in Procrastination

Okay, so even by writing this post, I'm procrastinating.
I'm using this to put off doing what I really, really need to be doing, but I just can't pass up the opportunity. (Even that is pathetic because my past procrastination is making it so I'm missing out on a great opportunity today. And yet, here I am writing this.)


I'm a procrastinator at heart. Pathetically so.

I know all the reasons I need to push on. I know the importance of it. I know that procrastinating could easily kill all hope of what I'm hoping for and what I've been working for and I feel God has for me. But sometimes there's something even bigger than all those things I know.

Fear.

Fear of what? Fear of failure.
If it's not done, it can't fail.

Am I the only one who deals with this??

And I even know the verses to fight this fear—because I've searched them out so often!

So here's the verse that's pulling me out of this bog fueled by fear:

For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline. ~2 Timothy 1:7 NAS

Timidity. Cowardice. Fear. It's NOT what God has given us!

God's given us power. His power. “Miraculous power,” might and strength.
And love.
And discipline. Now there's a word we love to hate. Discipline. Self-control.

THAT's what God has given us.
That means that any time I let fear have control, I'm turning my back on God and what He has given me and choosing the hog swill of fear instead.

How dumb is that?!?!

Sooooo, now that I've put that in perspective (for myself), guess what I'm off to do?
Work. In power, love and discipline—those awesomely cool gifts God gave me.

So tell me, why do you procrastinate?

Authentically Transparent

Authentic is a word that I've run across many times in the last month. It's surprised me how often I've opened my inbox and found it there. People are looking for authenticity. They want the genuine article, not a reproduction. Not a facade. And that seems to be counter-cultural at times.

A way to be authentic is to be transparent—and to be honest, transparency is scarier to me. Maybe because I can visualize transparency so easily. All I need to do is look out my front window and I see transparency in the sheers that cover my window, allowing light to come in and allowing me to see out without the world seeing in. Usually. At night, when the lights are on here in the house, those sheers are transparent. They offer very little protection from people looking in. If I weren't surrounded by cornfields, if I had neighbors, I would have more than sheers on my front windows because
I don't like living in a fish bowl. In fact, I have a huge aversion to life in the fish bowl.

But, greater than my aversion to living in a fish bowl, is my desire to follow hard after God. God has called me to authenticity and transparency, and that path has put me in the fish bowl. Or so it feels. Often I feel like Namaan. You want me to do what, Lord?? Or like Gideon. How can I?

So what am I to do? Paint on a smile and act like everything is always fantastic? No. That wouldn't be obedience.

Monday evening, after an emotionally hard day wrestling the nonsense and naysaying voices in my head, I knew I had to come up with a blog post for the letter N for the a 2 z meme we're doing. It's a responsibility I committed to and skipping a week wasn't an option. I scanned through my picture collection and saw nothing. I brainstormed words that start with N and could only come up with Nothing. I've had some pretty lame a 2 z posts in the 14 weeks we've been doing this, and I really, really wanted a fun, quirky N post. But I honestly had nothing, which only served to add to the naysaying voices in my head.

In my flipping through things, (desperately) looking for ideas, I came across the word 'authentic'. Again.

Authenticity isn't always fun. It isn't always quirky. Sometimes being authentic is admitting you have nothing but nonsense and that you're so busy wrestling, and even overwhelmed by the nonsense that you need help.

It's not the upbeat portrait I wanted to paint to people who stop by. That's when God reminded me of my fish bowl. He also pointed to the sheers across the window of my life, allowing people to see in without seeing all the vivid details.

By allowing God to turn on the light—His light—on Monday night, I allowed others to look through my windows and see my struggle with the nonsense and naysayers in my head. Did they see the cause of the struggle? No. The real issue wasn't what someone said to me that kick-started the wrestling match. The real issue was that it was happening and how I was dealing with it.

It meant admitting I wasn't all I wanted to be. It meant letting people see me when I was down. It meant letting people see me wrestle. Things I'd rather not do.

In being transparent, I found friends who were struggling with similar things. We shared the verses that were helping us, and in that joining of hands, the nonsense was stilled within me and the naysayers quieted.

Namaan's leprosy was healed when he did what God told him to. Gideon's strength against the enemy was God's presence. Guess what? On this side of the struggle, and on this side of the transparency, I still feel like Namaan and Gideon. Healed and strengthened with God's presence.

Thank you, my friends.
As we live transparently and authentically, Christ shines through us.

So tell me, do you think we can live authentically without transparency?



My 3 Fs

Fickle, Failure, & Faithful
These three words have been on my mind a lot this past few weeks. And I do mean a lot.

Yes, I am fickle. I'll admit that right up front. But it's not just girlie fickleness—it's that many times I honestly do not care which way I go. (When I have an opinion I'm just plain mulish. Ask my husband. *eye roll*) So when I see things opening up one direction and feel a leading, I'm good to go with it, and I do. But that tends to lead toward... failure. Or seeming failure.

How so? Well, as I venture through different doors I may get part way through and the door closes on me. That doesn't bother me at all—I see it as God clearly closing the door. Other times I get through the door and I'm ready to take off. I have everything prepped and ready and I'm excited. But the room that open door led to is empty. Not a single thing in there. Failure.

Or is it?
Well, I know from experience that people looking on often see it as failure. And fickleness. Now, I really don't like being seen as a fickle failure. Does anyone? But yanno, the it ain't over 'til it's over... and it ain't over yet! (See my eyes rolling as I snicker?)

This is where faithfulness comes in. Well, actually, faithfulness is woven throughout as I try to faithfully stay close to God and faithfully obey, and faithfully evaluate where things are. And this is exactly where I've been the last couple weeks: evaluating. (And that, my friends, will be another post! It's in the works.)

I've walked through a door recently and everything came together beautifully. Everything. I was ready to run and prepared for a marathon. But the starting gun never fired, leaving me toed in at the starting line. The door that was flung open to me led to a room that's empty. Not a single thing there. All the encouragement and help and cheering on that I've received and now when friends ask, excited for me, I have to tell them it opened to... nothing. Since I prayed much over the event (and still do) I'm not upset by it—but every now and then those first two f words ambush me. Yanno, fickle and failure.

So tell me, 
where do you think faithfulness fits with fickle and failure? 
Does seeming failure imply fickleness, or worse, faithLESSness?

Who Needs Marbles?

I think I've done lost my marbles!

I know, I know. Some of you are thinking "You're just now realizing that?!" But no, I've known this for a long, long, long, long time. It's just that sometimes I know it better than others. LoL And this is one of them.

So, what's made me remember those lost marbles now? Well, I *thought* I had a post up and ready for Jewels of Encouragement... but Laury, our wonderful editor there, reminded about the post yesterday. It's a good thing she did! Although I had picked out a post for there, I hadn't actually posted it! Minor detail, don'cha think? *eye roll* I'm telling you, my marbles have long since split this joint! sigh. Thank God for Laury!

As I went about (re)finding the post I had picked out for this month at Jewels of Encouragement, I saw another one I wrote almost exactly two years ago and stopped to read it. =) I changed my mind because that post is sooooo relevant to my life right now. So very relevant. I hope you'll join me there at Jewels of Encouragement! I'm actually reading the very same passages of Scripture this week as I was 2 years ago!

And that brings me to another thing I had forgotten about...

I'm also posting today At the Well. About children. But I forget what the article is about... except that it relates somehow to children. ROFL (But really, I have a good excuse for that one--a couple months ago I preposted a bunch of articles to free up some of my time AND brain space.) So, if you're as curious as I am about what I posted about children, (insert massive eye rolling here) join me At the Well to find out. LoL--I will be there! ;-)

Something that I've been mulling over recently...
One thing I have asked from the Lord, that I shall seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord and to meditate in His temple. For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle; in the secret place of His tent He will hide me; He will lift me up on a rock. ~Psalm 27:4 & 5

Sometimes things get topsy-turvy in life and inside me, and this verse has given me something to cling to and something to pray while I feel like I'm standing in the rain and not knowing which way to turn. As I did a little digging into these verses, here are a couple things I learned:

"...that shall I seek..." = to seek through prayer and worship
"...to behold the beauty of the Lord..." = to see God, the Self-existent One

I don't know about you, but concealed in His tabernacle, in His secret place, sounds like a wonderful place to be. Especially right now when my marbles are... well, they aren't here.  LoL.

God's presence--there's nothing better. 
What a rock and anchor that is to my soul!

Betty Bee and the Long Tongue

It's Friday! So I thought I'd do something I haven't done in ages. I'm participating in Fiction Friday--a meme I started back in early summer of 2008 so we'd have an excuse reason to pull some of our fiction out and post it. =) I handed the reigns over to Karlene quite awhile ago and I'm excited to see it's still going. Today Lynn is hosting it her site, Faith, Fiction, Fun and Fanciful. Be sure to go there for more links to Fiction Friday. And better yet, join us by posting some of your fiction and linking up with us!



~*~*~*~

Betty Bee and the Long Tongue

Betty Bumble Bee settled onto a clover blossom and dropped her head onto her front legs. As she watched the honey bees scurry from flower to flower she became sadder and sadder. Oh, how she wanted to be like them: so slim and trim and so useful. Everyone loved the honey bees because they made honey. They could zip through tight spaces and always had such fun. Betty Bee wanted very much to be a honey bee instead of the bumble bee she was.

Josie Butterfly swooped in for a fast landing. “Hiya, Betty Bee. Why are you just laying here and not gathering pollen?”

“Because I’m sad.” Betty Bee turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to see a honey bee working on a nearby dandelion. “Besides, why should I worry about it when the honey bees are on the job? They can do a much better job of it than I can. I wish I were a honey bee instead of a big, bumbling, bumble bee!”

Josie slowly fanned her wings as she thought. “Betty Bee, don’t you know that honey bees are picky? They need nectar to make honey.”

Betty Bee stroked her antenna. “So?”

“So they won’t go to a flower that only has pollen and no nectar, which means that some flowers would never get pollinated if it weren’t for you bumble bees because bumble bees need both pollen and nectar to feed their babies.”

“They still make honey and look at them, they’re so cute.”

Josie shook her head. “There’s more to life than being cute.”

Betty Bee flicked a leg and sent an aphid flying off the clover blossom.

“Betty Bee, stick out your tongue,” Josie said, her middle legs propped on her abdomen.

“What? Are you crazy?” Betty Bee asked.

“Just stick out your tongue, Betty Bee.” Josie insisted.

Betty Bee rolled her eyes, but stuck it out. It was long!

“God gave you a special tongue so you could reach into flowers that honey bees can’t.” Josie thought that was so neat she did a loop-de-loop right over Betty Bee’s head.

Betty Bee stuck out her tongue again and studied it with her many eyes. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty special.” She said, sounding a little happier.

“It sure is!” Josie said as she settled back onto a nearby flower. “But there’s something else that’s special about you.

“Really?” Betty Bee asked.

“Really.” Josie replied. “When it’s too cold for honey bees, guess who’s out here pollinating flowers?”

Betty Bee hesitated and thought back to the last cold day they’d had. The only other bees she’d seen that day were fellow bumble bees. “Um, bumble bees?” she asked uncertainly.

Josie clapped her hands. “Right! You bumble bees don’t mind the cold but honey bees can’t stand it. If it weren’t for you bumble bees some flowers wouldn’t get pollinated and that would be really sad.”

Betty Bee stood up and bumbled about a little, buzzing in her happiness.

“Oh, and that reminds me of something really, really special about you, Betty Bee!” Josie danced around on her clover top. “You know how so many people like tomatoes?”

Betty Bee stood real still, listening closely. The family that lived nearby loved tomatoes, so this was really important to her. “Yeah?”

“Guess who needs to pollinate tomato blossoms so they grow the tomatoes?” Josie asked, so excited she fluttered above her flower.

As Betty Bee thought hard she buzzed… and buzzed some more. Soon her clover blossom was vibrating. “I don’t know, Josie. Who?”

Josie giggled. “Bumble bees do! God made them so they can buzz enough to get the tomato pollen to drop down to where it can be reached. Isn’t that wonderful?”

That made Betty Bee so excited she flew off her flower and did a double loop around Josie. “God made me special so I could do a special job!” she shouted to all the other bees, who stopped their gathering and cheered for her.

“I’m Betty Bumble Bee and I love being me!” she sang as she zoomed into a tomato blossom and began her happy buzzing. “Just don’t forget the ‘Bumble’ part,” she giggled, “that’s the most important part.”


“And He gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ;” Ephessians 4:11-12 (NAS)



~*~*~*~


This is definitely something I needed today.
And God made you special to do the job He has for you to do, too!

It's a Choice

As you might have guessed from my last post about Cave Dwelling, I've been discouraged lately. I don't know why and I don't know what caused it. But I DID realize I was in my cave and that I needed to get out. Fast.

So I tried. I made sure the Light was on. I spent extra time in God's Word reading, studying and really digging. Morning, noon and night often found me with time in the Bible. But I was still in my cave.

I have to tell you, I was baffled. I was hunting for sin, for poor decisions, anything that I could go back to and take care of. I even knew that this discouragement might be a mind game.

Finally one morning after my Bible reading I was going over my Sunday School lesson and the words were just bouncing off my eyeballs and I knew it was a great lesson because I had already gone over it once. So I closed the book and just sat. I told God where I was: in a world that had turned gray (and I hate gray!). I told Him how confused I was, and that's when I realized something.

During the day I'm discouraged and frustrated with my discouragement. Yet every morning I wake up singing praise to God. In those moments before being fully awake I was worshiping God. How could that be? It made me realize that even though God was seemingly being silent, I was still connecting with Him enough that I woke singing praise. My intentional immersion in God's Word was having an effect, even if I couldn't see it or even really feel it.

I knew God was guiding me, He promised He would, but I couldn't see His direction. I felt as though I was trudging through a bleak, gray world and that my ankles and feet were shrouded in the fog that hid God's directional arrow. How was I to know where God wanted me to step?

And that's when I stumbled on something I want to remember even though it's nothing new.

I know God is guiding me and when I can't see God's direction, I can step in faith. I don't need to see God's directional arrows or even the next step of the path. I don't need know where to turn. I just need to step and trust God. Yes, my world is gray right now. Yes, I hate gray. But I won't notice the gray so much if my eyes are fixed on the Light.

He is the Light at the end of this tunnel I'm in.

For me, right now, discouragement is a choice of where I choose to look. Do I look at the gray I'm in or at the Light at the end of the tunnel? Do I just sit and wait it out or do I focus on the Light and just keep putting one foot in front of the other and trust?

What about you?
Are you wrapped in gray too?

Let's focus on Christ, 
the Light
at the end of our tunnel.

Cave Dwelling

...stinks! It truly does. So why do we I insist on crawling into that smelly cave of me and then stay there as long as I do? It really baffles me. It's one of the last places I want to be, yet there I sit.

Discouragement happens to all of us. We can be cruising along doing fantastic and suddenly we're body slammed with discouragement. We didn't see it coming and we don't even know where it came from. So what are we to do? Sit there? I sure hope not. It's miserable in that cave and it just keeps getting darker and darker in there.

Well, when it gets dark what do you do? Do you just sit in your chair and think “Poor me. It's getting darker. I wish it wouldn't be so dark.”? No, of course you don't. You turn on a light, even if it means having to get up out of your chair to do it. So why are we so content to sit in our little dark cave and think “Poor me. It's getting darker. I wish it wouldn't be so dark.”?

Sometimes I think it's a ploy of Satan's. If he can immobilize us, he neutralizes us, which is what he wants.

Sometimes I think it's a test to see what we'll do. Will we sit in the dark waiting and wishing or will we get up off our duffs and do something—like turn on the light or go outside?

Sometimes I think it's a reminder of how dark the cave and discouragement is.

And sometimes I think it might be so we can turn on the light for someone else and help them get out of the cave.

Whatever the reason for it, staying is not an option for me.

I don't normally post youtubes (because I don't usually delve into youtube or music videos) but this isn't exactly a normal post for me and I didn't know how else to post a couple of songs that's helping keep the Light on for me...






Let's live in the Light!!

Shining

When I looked out the window awhile ago, this is what I saw.


The trees where shining. The sun had peeked through the heavy clouds and was making all the ice encrusted trees glisten. It was beautiful, especially with all the dark, stormy weather we've been having.

But yanno, the sun often peeks out and shines on the trees like it did. What made it so noticeable and beautiful was the coating of ice on each and every branch and twig. The ice that was a big part of the storm. The ice that was weighing down the tree limbs and rattling with every hint of a breeze. Without the ice there would have been little beauty—just winter trees in a patch of sunshine.

So often when storms overtake our lives we cry out because of the ice that seems to coat us and weigh us down. When a breeze goes past we rattle, thinking only of uncomfortable and heavy the ice is. Yet when others look at us they may see the radiance of the Son shining off us and through us. Sometimes we need the ice to reflect the Son.

Heavenly Father, help us keep our eyes so fixed on You that when the ice comes into our lives we wait eagerly for the Sonshine so we can sparkle and dance for you. Help us to accept the ice and shine for You so that beauty can come from the storms. In Your Son's Name, amen.

Shattered

This last week, when we went out to warm the car before hitting the road, we discovered the back window of the car was shattered. Talk about surprised! We were instantly thankful for insurance to cover the bulk of the expense. We were also thankful for God's timing—if it had happened the week before we would have been in a pickle since we had been going in four different directions thanks to the kids' college classes—but the day the window shattered was the day of their last finals. Not only that, but it shattered here at home, not on campus, where it had been for a few hours the night before. Isn't God good? Yes, the window shattered and we had the hassle of rearranging things since we only had one car, and we had the expense at a “bad” time for us, but things could have been so much worse!

So why did it shatter? We checked for bullets. Honestly, that was my first thought. Living here in the country there are times when car windows get shot out accidentally. But there was no evidence of it—thank goodness! The car was parked in front of the living room bay window and it gave me shivers to think of what could have happened. Jim called the insurance agent and the window repair people and they weren't surprised. Thermal expansion from the cold snap we had go through our area. The sudden extreme shift in temperature was too much for the glass and it shattered under the change.

Have you ever felt like that? Like things were changing too fast and you were about to shatter? Maybe you did shatter.

Something I noticed when I got in my car and took off after the window had been replaced—I could see through it so much better. The rest of the car was had road dirt on it, but that back window was crystal clear and oh-so clean. After the repair men had put in the new window, they sprayed it with a special cleaner and made it sparkle.

God does that for us too when we shatter. He doesn't always just repair the window, sometimes He replaces it and when God replaces what was broken or shattered, the change is so remarkable that it sparkles and shines. You can't miss it and things appear so much more clear than ever before.

Again I will build you and you will be rebuilt, o virgin of Israel! Again you will take up your tambourines, and go forth to the dances of the merrymakers. ~Jeremiah 31:4 NAS

If you're feeling shattered by changes in your life,  let God replace things for you.

Kaleidoscopic

Finding the Extraordinary God in our Ordinary Lives
Recently I felt like a kaleidoscope. Like someone rolled the tumbler and all the pieces I thought fit together so nicely spun wildly out of control. Bits and pieces spinning around inside me, making me feel as fractured as those individual pieces look. What I forgot, until my friend handed me her special kaleidoscope to see, is the beauty made by those bits of color.

Seeing that beauty made me wonder how it could be that pretty in such a spinning, jumbled, fractured place. It was a graphic reminder that God can make beauty emerge from the broken places in our lives. If we just let Him spin the tumbler.
'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. I will be found by you,' declares the Lord, 'and I will restore your fortunes and will gather you from all the nations and from all the places where I have driven you,' declares the Lord, 'and I will bring you back to the place from where I sent you into exile.' ~Jeremiah 29:11-14 NAS
When God twirls the kaleidoscope of our lives, let's not just close our eyes and wail. Let's pour our heart out to Him and watch closely as He works, and there will beauty in the spinning, fractured colors.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken. On God my salvation and my glory rest; the rock of my strength, my refuge is in God. Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us. ~Psalm 62:5-8 NAS

Is your life like a kaleidoscope? Look for the beauty God is creating with all those colorful bits and pieces of your life. It's there.

Scorched But Satisfied

Sometimes when I round a bend in life I expect to see a beautiful pasture land. Green grass, still waters, shade... But instead I find myself in a scorched land. That's happened just recently and although I tried back-pedaling, it didn't work. (Not that it ever does.) I could smell the stench of the scorched land and I have to tell you, it almost terrified me.

I sat down to work on a deadline I have and started flipping through Scripture, looking for a verse or two about having a sensitive spirit to the sin in our lives to go with the devotional that needs to be in today. But God used that time to reassure me. Every silent prayer that's been whispered in my heart recently, and every fear and doubt I had, God spoke to me about as I flipped those pages of Psalms and Isaiah. Verses that were underlined and verses that even had dates and events written beside them. Verses of healing and guidance and affirmation. Only God, who heard my prayers and my cries, could do that.

And the Lord will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail. ~Isaiah 58:11 NAS

He truly satisfied my desire in the scorched place, and gave me strength, and comforted me with His water.

Are you in a scorched place? God is with you and hears you when you cry out to Him.

Plowed

God is demonstrating His perfect timing to me again these days...

The farmers around here are plowing their fields in preparation for planting and I cannot drive past those fields without having an attitude adjustment— a needed adjustment. Last week I went from bouncing off the ceiling to sub-basement level within moments. The resulting splatter wasn't pretty, but there was truth to what was being said, and I knew it. My problem wasn't with the truth, it was with the fact that my bubble had been burst. Pierced, actually, and a realm that I had declared mine was being breached...again. Oh, not by God, He'd been invited in as a welcome addition, a necessary addition. This invasion was by someone else and it sent me for a triple loop.

The day after I landed in the sub-basement, we passed the first of the fields that had been plowed. My initial response was, “Lord, I feel like I've been plowed, too.”

His quiet response was so gentle and loving it was hard to hold the tears back. “You have to plow before you can plant.”

I want a bountiful harvest for God, that means I need to be plowed so He can plant a crop in me. Farm discs are sharp and are designed to cut deep and turn the dirt over. They're nothing to mess with but they serve their purpose well. God's discs are nothing to mess with, but He often lets us decide how well they serve their purpose.

God's been plowing me.

It's not been comfortable, but I thank God for it. I also thank Him for His perfect timing. Each time I go to town (which has been more than once a day this week) it seems there are more fields that are plowed and they remind me of what God is doing in my life. If I want a bountiful harvest for my Lord, then I need to submit to His plowing and preparation in my life. Each trip to town I can smell the fragrance of the freshly turned soil. It's a smell that I've always enjoyed— a fragrance that seems to represent new life.

As God plows our lives, may the fragrance of our plowed lives be pleasing to Him. A fragrance with the promise of new life.

May the God of peace... equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen. ~Hebrews 13:20-21, NIV

Chicken Dancing

December's been a doozie of a month for me and I'm still wading out of the bog I ended up in. It's been weeks since I've done any writing. Weeks. And I'm having a really hard time getting back to my keyboard. Not because of time—I've had lots and lots of time, but because I did something Israel did after they left Egypt with Moses.

Israel was in Kadesh-Barnea, right on the brink of entering the Promised Land, and they chickened out. Guess where I've been this month? In Kadesh-Barnea doing the chicken dance. It's not a very pretty picture. More than that, it's not a pretty experience. I know what I'm supposed to be doing, the path I'm to be following, but instead of moving forward I've settled for the chicken dance.

Sure, as I danced I read some excellent books that challenged me spiritually and counted as research for my writing project, so the time wasn't wasted. The problem came in with my mindset and my focus. I fixed my eyes on the giants in the land and on all my weaknesses—which is exactly what Israel did there in Kadesh-Barnea. Check out what happened to them as a result:

Then the Lord heard the sound of your words, and He was angry and took an oath saying, 'Not one of these men, this evil generation, shall see the good land which I swore to give your fathers, except Caleb...because he has followed the Lord fully.'
~Deuteronomy 1:34-35 NAS

Israel's chicken dance landed them in the desert for 40 years, and that generation died in the desert.

I have no desire to die in the desert which means I need to quit doing the chicken dance, face my fear, get moving and go in and conquer the land God has given to me. I need to get cooking. *grin*

How about you?
Have you been chicken dancing or cooking?

From These Ashes

This is a story that is near and dear to my heart because the setting is where I consider home--Ecuador. This is fiction, but things like this happen.
~*~*~*~*~*~


From These Ashes
They're too weak to bear this, Lord. Jared slumped against the mud courtyard wall and looked at the church. Pieces of jagged glass clung to charred window frames, bearing testimony of the destruction within the cinder block walls. Tendrils of smoke curled out from the smoldering heap that was once a pulpit and simple wooden pews.

Jared raised his eyes to the roof of the building. Even the cross Marco made, Lord, it's gone. And the new Bibles and hymnbooks. Oh, Lord, I wish I hadn't brought them over last night. His eyes slid closed as his chin dropped onto his chest.

At the squeal of the gate Jared looked up. Marco stepped in and stood surveying the damage the vandals had done. Looking up at the roof, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set, but he said nothing. He turned and looked around the courtyard at the garbage that had been dumped and strewn around. Shaking his head, he walked back out the gate without looking back.

Jared's head fell back against the wall and his eyes burned from more than just smoke. Lord, Marco is leaving--the man I thought could someday be the pastor here.

Jared heard the gate clanking, but didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to see any one else turn away. After a moment, a scraping noise grated on his ears and he raised his head.

“Marco. What are you doing?” he asked.

Marco leaned on the handle of his shovel. “We have a service here in 30 minutes and I thought it'd be more pleasant if we didn't have to stand amidst the garbage.”

“I don't know that it will make a difference.”

Marco looked down, scraping the sole of his worn shoe on the shovel. Scratching his trimmed, black beard he looked at Jared. “That's just a building, Pastor,” he said. “The people, the true church, will still be here in 30 minutes.”

Will they come, though?

The gate squealed again and a group of women entered, each carrying a broom. Their hushed talk ceased as they stood in the courtyard.

Tears rolled down Carmen's face as she looked at the destruction. “Those men who did this are fighting against God. They think that burning the church will put an end to God pursuing them, but they're wrong. We need to pray even harder for them now.”

Jared rose to his feet, emotion filling his throat as he reached for the extra shovel Marco had brought. Here I was, thinking they weren't strong enough to handle this, Lord, and they're praying for the ones who did it. Forgive me, Father, and help me learn from them. Give me the wisdom to handle this correctly. Please, use this for Your glory.

Garbage quickly gave way to people as they trickled in, each whispering about the men who they suspected of destroying the church. Each week two or three men had been across the street, scoffing as people came and went from church. They were the star players of the towns' soccer team and were influential with the men of the town. Many church people had been praying specifically for their salvation. This morning they were nowhere to be found.

Jared wiped his hands on a rag as he looked around at the group gathered in the courtyard. Father, they're all here. Not one is missing.

Marco stood beside him, grinning. “This is the church, Pastor.”

Jared smiled, struggling to find his voice. “How did you become so wise, my friend?”

“You taught me that, just as you taught me that good can come from these ashes.”

Lord, bring beauty from these ashes...

Jared raised his hands, and in a clear, strong voice he led his flock. “Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow...”

When the last notes faded away Jared raised his voice again. “Jesus asked Peter an important question one time. He asked, 'Who do you say that I am?' and Peter answered, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.' Jesus' response was, 'and upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades shall not overpower it.'*” Jared turned and reached for his Bible.

Pray for the men who did this, Jared.

Now, Lord?

Now.


Jared turned back to the group without his Bible. “Pray with me. Dear Heavenly Father, I pray for those that did this. Let them see that burning a church will not put an end to You pursuing them. Don't let go of them until they stop fighting against You and completely surrender to You. Open their hearts to Your love and forgiveness. Please, Lord, do not let go of them; draw them to Yourself and make them one of Your beloved children. In the name of Jesus, Your resurrected Son, I pray, amen.”

Hiding in the shadows of the alley, a man who reeked of whiskey, wood smoke and garbage wrapped his arms around himself as his head dropped and his shoulders shook.


* Matthew 16:15-18 (NASB)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


I'm so excited! This is the first time I've been able to participate in Fiction Friday for months. And the first time I've participated since passing on the baton. I meant to announce to everyone that Fiction Friday is now hosted by Karlene, a wonderful Faithwriters friend I got to meet in August at the conference. Karlene is a doll. Sweet, fun to be with and a servant's heart. I was thrilled when she said she would take over Fiction Friday for us. Thank you, Karlene! I'm so thankful for you!!

For links to more fun fiction stop by this week's host, Stina at With Pen in Hand.

Missions and missionaries are much on my mind these days, especially with Heidi's Candle in the Corner missions spotlights going on. Be sure to stop by and check it out and participate!

You'll also find this story at Journey Ezine, a wonderful mission outreach ezine. Check them out!

Safe Within

I was able to visit with my sister this last summer and it was wonderful. Being with her is always special, and she has a really cool house that I love. It sits at the top of a hill in Oklahoma and the storms are incredible to watch from there. While I was there, we went outside one evening and enjoyed the lightening show—until it got a little too close and then we went in and didn't worry about the storm anymore. You see, her house isn't completed yet, it's a finished basement, and they're living in it while waiting for the rest of the house to be built. When you're down there the world could come to an end and you'd never know it until you went outside. It's comfy and cozy in her house, and safe from the storms that roll through—you barely know it's storming outside when you're down there.

My nephew lives right next door to my sister and they hear and feel every storm that goes through. The difference? Their house is above ground and it gets shaken up by the strong winds that howl across their hill. When the weather gets bad enough, the kids make a mad dash with their little boys and ride out the storm below ground in his parent's home. They have a safe place to run to where the storm passes over them.

We, as Christians, have a safe place, too. When the storms of life swoop down on us we can run to Jesus.

For in the day of trouble
He will conceal me in His tabernacle;
in the secret place of His tent He will hide me;
He will lift me up on a rock. ~Psalm 27:5

When we are abiding in Jesus, as John 15 talks about, our houses are often strong enough to weather the squalls of life.

storm clouds Originally uploaded by -Chad Johnson
Abiding in Him makes for stout walls, but there are storms that shake even a life that's abiding in Christ. We need to do like my nephew does and run to the safety of his father's house. The storms hit hard and there may be lots of damage to the property, but their lives are safe within the shelter. And that's how it is when we're hidden in the secret place of God's tent. The storms can beat all around us, but our lives are safe in Jesus.

When the storm around you begins howling, don't wait! Run to the safety of His tabernacle. Hide yourself in God and His Word—it's the safest place you can ever be!

You are my hiding place;
You preserve me from trouble;
You surround me with songs of deliverance.
~Psalm 32:7


There's still one last Book Bonanza going on--with Christina Berry. You have until Saturday night to leave comments to be entered in the book drawing. Also, we have our weekly author spotlight on Susan Page Davis and she's doing a book giveaway, too. That drawing is also open until Saturday night. Don't miss out! :]
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