Sabbatical

About 18 months ago, I was in a meeting with a client in Miami when the woman I was meeting with pulled a second person in the room. She announced she was leaving the company in two weeks, and this was her replacement. This was not entirely uncommon, but what happened next was.

I asked her what she was going to do, “Are you staying in the industry?”

“No,” she said, “I’m going back home (some country in South America) to take a sabbatical. I’m going to spend time with family and take time to figure out what I want to do.”

I started crying. Right there, in the middle of her office.

Her words were like a salve to my soul. That was exactly what I wanted. The only problem was, there’s no such thing as sabbaticals in Corporate America. You can’t just take months off of work to figure out what you want to do with your life. There are bills to pay and adult responsibilities to fulfill.

But this woman’s plan was like a refreshing oasis in the middle of my desert wilderness of exhaustion. I couldn’t stop thinking about her words, or the peaceful calm on her face when she said them.

I cried because I wanted to be that brave. I wanted to give myself that kind of time and space for my soul to breathe and my head to think clearly again. I wanted a sabbatical too. But that wasn’t realistic for me at the time.

There’s a song on the radio right now with the lyrics,

He makes a way where there ain’t no way,

let me tell you ‘bout my Jesus.

Ready?

Monday morning, May 2nd, 2022, I was a nervous wreck. The weekend prior, my husband and I had decided I would ask my company for some time off and a new position when I returned. With a knotted stomach and sweaty hands, I emailed my boss to ask if he had time for a call.

Once we connected, I told him everything that I had been wrestling with the last eight months. All my indecision, doubt, fears, uncertainty about what God was asking me to do. Travel or stay home? Work part time or full-time? Or, should I leave the workforce all together and “just” be a mom? What if I did that and hated it? How would I come back?

My company had already been SO gracious to me after my brother’s death, which happened in the middle of my maternity leave. They had given me additional time off for bereavement, and then more time again once I had been back to work a few months, when I was overwhelmed getting everything in order with my brother’s possessions and estate. And now I was asking for even more.

I couldn’t even verbalize what I needed because my head was so overloaded and scrambled I didn’t even know myself! I just knew SOMETHING had to give.

“Look,” I said, “I know there’s no such thing as sabbaticals in corporate America, but that’s what I’m asking for. I want a significant chunk of time off – like three months – so I can even have the time and space to breathe and think a clear thought about what my next steps should be. Basically, I want to take the Summer off.”

My boss said many empathetic and reassuring things to me that day. He was an absolute gem about the whole thing – a part I attribute to God. But the last words he said to me were, “As far as I know, we don’t have a sabbatical program (how he said that without laughing I’ll never know), what I imagine will happen is you will be separated on good terms and can come back anytime you’re ready, but hey, check with HR, they have more knowledge about what we can and can’t do than I do.”

My next phone call was to HR. I relayed the whole scenario and conversation with my boss. And when I was done, I kid you not, that woman opened her mouth and said, “Actually, we do have an administrative leave program. It’s kind of like a medical leave of absence, except with that you need a doctor’s note, with this, you just need your managers to sign off, which it sounds like they already have. And it lasts up to 12 weeks.”

Twelve weeks. Three months.

I was getting my sabbatical. I was going to get to take the Summer off to spend with my son and hear from God.

What. In. the. Actual. Was. Happening?

Sparing all the side-stories and details, suffice it to say, God’s provision went so far over and above what I could even imagine during this time. It was one blessing after another. More and more and more abundant overflow of His goodness than I would have ever asked for.

It was honestly bananas.

The one story I want to tell you about is this: The week that I called my boss – the VERY week – my husband got a phone call from a prospective client to do his largest project to date. If he won the job, it would net as much as his entire previous year’s income combined. And then, he got another call like that. And another. Three calls, in one week. Each would individually exceed the last year’s income. He ended up winning two of the three projects.

It’s been a year now, and the calls haven’t stopped coming.

What I didn’t know when I worked my last day on Friday, June 3rd, was that I wouldn’t go back to work at all.

My Summer never ended.

Dear 21 Year Old Self…

060107 129 Twelve years ago – on this very day (as Shutterfly so aptly reminded me) – I was saying “I do” for the first time in my life.

I was young, naïve, blissfully ignorant…. And so, so, so misinformed.

I meant the words I said with all of my 21-year-old heart, but I was ill-equipped to fulfill them.

I was short-tempered, self-righteous, and lacked any understanding of the word Grace whatsoever.

The bigger problem was my mountain of unrealistic expectations. I was expecting marriage to fulfill me. My husband to complete me. And thought we would live happily-ever-after day-after-day.

I read recently that, “Expectations are disappointments waiting to happen.”

I did not hide my disappointment in my first husband.

Soon, disappointment led to disenchantment. Then to disdain and disgust. Which eventually led to the most gut-wrenching D-word of all: Divorce. And that led to months and years of darkness and depression. 20190607_210309

But tonight, 12 years later, I’m sitting on my deck watching the sunset, listening to my husband chipping golfballs in our backyard. My life has been totally redeemed.

If I could go back and talk to the girl in this photo, I would explain that marriage is not so much about who you are married to, but how you are in the marriage.

This marriage is honestly not terribly different than the last.

My husband still does things that annoy me, sometimes forgets things, or breaks a promise… we disagree, argue and sometimes even shout at each other.

My marriage is imperfect. My husband is imperfect.

Unfortunately, it took my entire life falling apart to realize that so am I.

But the breaking of me made way for the best of me in its place.

A friend recently asked me if I knew what I knew now, could I have made my first marriage work? My answer was yes, but, I wouldn’t know what I know now had I not gone through my first marriage failing.

I had to be humbled. Today, I am patient and kind (on my good days!), but most of all, I am full of grace.

I know the last time my husband and I argued, will not be the last time we argue. I know the last time he broke a promise, will not be the last time he breaks a promise. Or the last time he hurt me will be the last time he hurts me.

But I have done those things too. And I will do them again. At times, I take him for granted, and often don’t speak to him in a polite tone.

I have a limitless supply of grace for him and he does for me.

I would tell the young girl in the white dress that grace – not love, as we were sold – is the most important part of making a marriage work.

There is an indescribable peace that comes with knowing that despite your imperfections – even at your ugliest, even when you don’t deserve it – the other person is never giving up on you.

This is exactly how Jesus love us.

And giving that peace to another human being is what walking out a lifetime of real love looks like.

Jesus with Skin on

Earlier this Spring, my husband took a group of high school guys to an event our church coordinates called “MAN CAMP“. He left Friday morning before I woke up, so when I came into the kitchen to fix myself breakfast, I found a note waiting for me.

It started with “Morning Rach! A few things…” and I felt myself bristle. I expected it to be a list of things he wanted me to do/take care of while he was gone.

Because that’s the kind of note I would have left him.

In fact, I had been leaving him lots of notes like that lately, because in my opinion, he had been increasingly pulling less and less of his weight around the house, leaving things undone that I had to pick up the slack on, or remind him about for the 400th time. I constantly noticed things he was not doing more than the things he was, and found myself brewing about broken promises and bad habits – past or present – with increasing frequency.

He would be the first to tell you, not all of my thoughts and feelings were unmerited. But, they were taking over the driver’s seat of my mind and the climate of our marriage.

If I’m being totally honest, I have actually been quite an A-hole to my husband as of late. My tone with him is sharp, bitter, and often cutting, even when I don’t intend for it to be.

And, what I let come out of my mouth pales in comparison to the thoughts that have been occupying my mind more often than not.

I’ve found myself feeling disgusted, bordering on contempt. Even though I don’t want to feel this way.

But as I read through the rest of his note, instead of to-do’s, it was a bulleted list of a love letter:

I love you unconditionally with all my heart.
I hope you are feeling much better this morning.
I appreciate you.
I miss you already.
Enjoy your weekend with the girls.
Thanks for being you. For your joyful spirit, youthful zest for life, infectious laughter (it makes me smile to hear you laugh), your heart for God that is full of all the loves, your grace and kindness, and for choosing me to live life with.

As tears filled my eyes, my gut twisted with guilt and I thought:

how on earth can he still think these things about me?

This is the guy who sees me at my worst. At my most disgusting, my least people-skilled. I have been wretched to him at times.

Then I thought, if he even remotely had a glimpse inside my thoughts about him lately, there’s no way he would have written these things.

And suddenly, I was awash with the revelation of Jesus’ love and grace – all over again.

He whispered in my heart, I know about ALL your thoughts, and I still love you like that.

My husband, in that moment, was a very real Jesus-with-skin-on to me.

Have you ever heard that term? I remember when a friend of mine told me her husband had been Jesus-with-skin-on to her early in their dating, while she was still recovering from her divorce and struggling to trust again. It was such a clear picture of behavior, and the image stuck in my brain. But I don’t think I had ever experienced it so evidently in my own life until the very moment I was holding that note.

Have you ever experienced that type of love?

That same week, I started a new devotional by Mark & Jill Savage called “10 Days to a Better Marriage” (it’s an excerpt from their book, “No More Perfect Marriages“). And Day 5 slapped me right in the face that weekend as the authors wrote about using the “tool of the Grace Space” with your spouse. Read what I did:

Grace is a free gift from God. Because of Jesus, we deserve punishment but we get mercy instead. It’s an upside-down response to what we deserve. God gives us grace because of who He is. We don’t earn it. We don’t even deserve it.

…Grace Space happens when we allow another person to be human, to make mistakes, to be imperfect and to have their own indiosyncrasies.

Grace is a first cousin of forgiveness. We use this tool when dealing with the harmless habits that bug us but don’t really hurt us. Like coffee [stains]. Or leaving the lights on. Or leaving the toilet seat up. Or when our spouse does things differently than we would.

When thinking through whether something needs forgiveness or grace, ask yourself these two questions:

Does this hurt me or just irritate me?
Does this need to be corrected or simply accepted as part of being married to an imperfect person?

Grace is a beautiful gift to give our spouse, especially if he/she is aware of places where he/she falls short or has bad habits. Grace replaces criticism. Even if he/she isn’t aware of their shortcomings, you can use your tool of grace.

Next time you’re tempted to criticize, stop and pull grace out of your marriage toolbox. Ask yourself if this is an offense or an irritation. If it’s an offense, offer forgiveness before you address it, and if it’s simply bumping into your spouses human limitations [or imperfections], offer grace.

Ouch.

I had been doing the exact opposite of all of this. I was letting myself get offended over immaterial irritations. That certainly was a wake-up call.

I had forgotten the things I already learned – and even written about in my own book! I felt like a total hypocrite.

I had let myself get to a place where I was letting Barry’s actions – or inactions – affect my mood and determine my behavior, instead of giving him the benefit of the doubt and extending grace for his shortcomings.

I felt shameful for getting this so wrong, while my husband was obviously walking this out so well for me.

But, I was so glad for the revelation and reminders.

Our next date night, I brought up his note, and the things I had been learning. I apologized for being focused on the wrong things and let him know how he had shown Jesus to me. He told me he knew what had been inside my head, as I wasn’t very good at hiding it on my face. There was a lot of crying. And freedom. And a sense of cleansing and refreshing.

Have I totally fixed my thoughts since then? No. Have I gotten better and do I catch myself going down that road quicker? Yes.

It is, and will continue to be a process. A daily decision to pull out my God-tool of Grace, rather than giving Barry the reaction he “deserves” from me. I don’t deserve the amount of patience I get from God (or my husband), as I figure all this marriage stuff out, but I have an endless supply. And so do you.

“No marriage crumbles in a day. It’s a drift of one centimeter to another, one feeling or one decision that leads to another feeling or decision that’s a little off-center.
If left unaddressed, those things will draw us away from each other instead of toward each other, creating a fade of feelings.” – Mark & Jill Savage

Catch Me Up: Permission to Be Imperfect

You know what my favorite feature in the Bible App is?

It’s the “catch me up” button.

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When I open the app and see I’m 5 days behind on a reading plan, it can be really discouraging. It’s easy for me to start spiraling into shame and guilt. I start to feel like I’m not doing enough spiritually, like I’m not a “good enough” Christian.

And that can pretty quickly snowball into to overwhelm. I start thinking about all the things in my life I’m behind on, that I’m not doing “well enough” in.

But one tap of the gear icon and “catch me up” shifts the dates of the plan forward so suddenly I’m back on track.

It sounds silly, but I instantly feel lighter!

I used to think using that feature would be like cheating. I wanted a visual reminder that I wasn’t being diligent enough in my quiet time and needed to step up my habit.

But I think I’ve realized that was the spirit of legalism and religion talking – wanting to keep me in bondage. See, religion is oppressive…. It’s like slavery.

And that’s exactly what Jesus came to set me free from.

Let me explain:

2000 years ago when Jesus of Nazareth walked the earth, anyone who was following God at the time was doing it under the strict religious code called the “Jewish Law”. There were rules about literally EVERYTHING: what they could eat, what they could wear, where they could go, who they could hang out with… Even when and where they could pray, how often they should do it, how long they should feel bad for doing something wrong and how to make up for a mistake (with sacrifices or other punishments).

Their entire experience with God was militant and regimented; there was nothing personal or intimate or fluid about it at all.

(I lived that type of religious experience for most of my life.)

But as Jesus traveled and talked to crowds and close friends, He talked about a new way to live. He told people they were free to be free from those rules and regulations, and free to just be in relationship with His Father – without all the rigmarole.

In fact, the first Christians weren’t a part of what is known as Christianity today, their lifestyle practice was simply referred to as “The Way”.

It was a completely counter-cultural way of living. Literally the exact opposite of what the religious leaders of that day were teaching people.

I’ve been studying the letters that Saul of Tarsus, later renamed the Apostle Paul, wrote to the early church. I am finding it fascinating how he warned these people – even then – about reverting back to their religious customs. The rules and laws that are all about making you feel you are “doing good”.

In several letters, he writes about not continuing to do things for the sake of tradition or edict. But to be led by the Spirit instead. He explains that the Spirit was a gift Jesus left behind for us, so that we could be free from the old laws.

“It is for freedom that Christ set us free. Stand firm then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by the yoke of slavery.” – Gal 5:1

Paul gives examples from his own life; how he is free to do things which would be considered against the religious law (like eat certain kinds of foods) because he is now free from those restrictions.

The crux of the issue is this: as long as we feel we are doing all the right things and following the rules, we don’t need saving, we don’t need God. We are doing things for Him, but not doing life with Him, which is what He really wants.

But, when we live being led by His Spirit in what we should do, and how we should live, that creates a daily dependence in us. Quickly we realize, if left to ourselves, we would do all the wrong things (and sometimes we still do anyway), and that we are in desperate need of saving.

And here’s the thing, the religious law says, you must read your Bible (devo) every day, and when you miss a day, shame on you. Now, go wallow around feeling pitiful and worthless and filthy. You’re not a good person, and it’s better for other people for you not to be around them.

But The Way says, just hit the “catch me up” button. Forget about what you did or didn’t do yesterday. Today is a new day, let’s walk forward together.

And if you mess up again tomorrow, the catch me up button is waiting for you the day after that. 🙂

You know in the app there’s no limit to how many times you can use that button?

It has taken me 4 months to get through a 40 day plan before.

And that’s totally ok.

Jesus gave me permission to stop beating myself up for it. He is giving you the same permission today.

Stop trying to earn what He literally died to give you. Freedom from guilt, shame and bondage is ours for the taking. And sometimes, it’s hiding right under the gear icon on our smartphones!

Check out what else Paul said:
“This same Good News that came to you is going out all over the world. It is bearing fruit everywhere by changing lives, just as it changed your lives from the day you first heard and understood the truth about God’s wonderful grace.” Colossians 1:6 NLT
Translation: Tell your friends!

Ps, If you’re not already using the YouVersion Bible App on your phone, what are you waiting for?! It’s incredible!

Here are some of my favorite plans:
God’s Dream for Your Life, Rick Warren
The Invisible War, Rick Warren
Relaxing With God, Andrew Farley
Starting Your Day Right, Joyce Meyer
One: A Marriage Devotional, Jimmy Evans
From this Day Forward, Craig & Amy Groeschel
Crash the Chatterbox, Steve Furtick
Visioneering, Andy Stanley
The Lies Couples Believe, Chris Thurman
Hearing from God Each Morning, Joyce Meyer
The Lies We Believe About God, Chris Thurman
Goliath Must Fall, Louie Giglio
Marriage Is Hard, Time of Grace Ministries
Fighting for My Marriage, XXX Church

I Love Jesus, But I Cuss A Little

i love jesus.jpg

The first time I saw that t-shirt I was offended. Like any good Christian girl should be.

And I immediately started judging the person on my facebook friends list who posted it. Of course she would post something like that. The recently-divorced single mom whose status updates were littered with F-bombs on the regular. She was a trainwreck, so it was natural a post like that would come from her.

(Nevermind the shirt was true about me; but I don’t cuss “as bad as her”, and I would never admit it outloud or gasp! post it on social media!)

I scrolled past the garment disgusted and with an eye roll, but that shirt stuck with me for a few weeks.

The next time I saw it posted by someone else in my newsfeed, the more intriguing to me it became.

I reprimanded myself for judging the first girl; I had no idea what she was dealing with.

Besides, I may not cuss “as bad as her”, but there are plenty of other things I get wrong – like condemning other people for things they post on Facebook….

The more I thought about the statement on the shirt I realized… who was I to judge anyone? No matter what came after their “but” in that sentence.

Because ALL of us have something after the “but”.

I finally decided I kind of liked that t-shirt. What a beautiful a picture of authenticity and grace!

What if we all wore a t-shirt like that? What would yours say?

I love Jesus but I….

“doubt a little.”

“fear a little.”

“gossip a little.”

“lie a little.”

“steal a little.”

“watch porn a little.”

“disrespect my husband a…….LOT.”

Mine would say something like, “I love Jesus but, I’m still a work in progress. Imperfect. Deeply flawed, even.”

“…But wildly in love with, and loved in return by, Him. Unconditionally.”

I already know what some of you are thinking, “So are you saying Christians can just go around doing whatever they want? Are you just giving people a license to sin?”

No. And you’re missing the point.

Though technically, yes, Christians can do whatever they want. Paul says so right in 1^st Corinthians 10:23, “Everything is permissible–but not everything is beneficial. Everything is permissible–but not everything is constructive.”

Jesus’ sacrifice and gift of Grace set us free from the Law. What I explain in this other blog post over here, is that Paul is saying is you can do anything you want, but not everything is going to make you happy, or satisfied, or peaceful, or prosperous. AND, your actions have consequences.

But, being a “good Christian” doesn’t have anything to do with following a set of rules. It is about following Him, in whatever way He leads you.

So I’m not just telling you to do whatever you want. I am telling you to stop worrying about other people’s “buts”.

I recently heard Joyce Meyer say, “We never have enough information to judge anyone. We might judge their sin or their wrong behavior, I can look at someone and say, according to the word of God, I think that behavior is wrong, but I can’t judge them. I can’t judge their heart. I don’t know where they came from, I don’t know what’s in their heart, I don’t know how much revelation knowledge they have, I don’t know what’s going on in their life… Maybe instead of judging them I should have compassion for them.”

Like Joyce admits about herself – at many points in my life, I would have made a wonderful Pharisee.

Our enemy LOVES to keep us bound by rules and religion, guilt and condemnation, not to mention, the fear of other people’s opinions and/or being consumed with concern over what other people are doing, that we never discover the freedom that comes in relationship with Christ.
Follow the Leader

For people like me, who are actively engaged in following Jesus, we are each individually responsible for growing and changing as God, in the form of the Holy Spirit, convicts us and guides us to.

One of the main jobs of the Holy Spirit once He comes to live inside you, is to help you become the fullest picture of who God created you to be. And, this is far from an overnight process.

One simultaneously freeing and frustrating thing I’ve learned is that the Holy Spirit convicts different people about different things at different times.

He works in each of us uniquely and individually. So for you, using “foul” language may very well be a sin, if you’re convicted that it is wrong for you. But for someone else who is not convicted, it may not be. Just like it’s perfectly fine for some Christians to have a glass of wine, but for others, it’s something the Spirit does not want them to partake in. This could apply to smoking, or watching tv, or any other myriad of things.

There are times I feel convicted about particular things even my husband does not, or vice versa. But I’m not his Holy Spirit and he is not mine.

In my experience, one of the places the Spirit will lead you is to God’s written word, wherein there are very clear instructions about how God wants us to live – not for rule-following’s sake – but so we can live the healthiest, happiest, most-fulfilling and purposeful experience on this earth. He literally left us a Guidebook for how to get the most out our time here and for the greatest eternal impact!

But there are a lot of things God doesn’t touch on in the Bible, or He isn’t specifically clear on. It’s up to the Holy Spirit to lead and guide us in those things. It’s our job be listening, watching, discerning, and obeying.

(Sidebar: It’s true that sometimes the Holy Spirit might use you or I to speak to one another about a particular subject, but anytime we feel this is occurring, I would caution us to check our motives, and check our tone. Ask ourselves carefully, are we trying to play Holy Spirit for someone else? And if the Spirit really is convicting us to speak Truth-in-Love to a fellow believer, what is the condition of our heart in this exchange? Full of condemnation or grace? …And that’s all I’m going to say about that right now.)

This process and journey is something we will be walking out the rest of our lives on this earth. You will never be perfect or flawless this side of heaven. Neither will I.

And it’s when I slip back into trying to veneer things – to pretend like I’ve got it all together – I feel furthest from God, and furthest from other people.

Feigning perfection severs connection.

When I was at my lowest – real and raw and vulnerable – that’s when God met me. He knew the mess He was getting. While the truth is, “He loved me too much to leave me the way He found me”. There are some things about me – the real, raw, unpolished me at my innermost core – that He has left alone. I think He kind of likes those things.

Do I need to work on my temper? Yes! But I think He admires how fired up I get when I see people being mistreated or, being hurt by injustice or even hurt by the church….

In fact, I think He may have put some of that stuff there on purpose.

I spent most of my life running from the real me or covering it up because it wasn’t “ladylike” or it wasn’t “Christian” enough.

I’m done with that. This is who I am. Where I am. For right now.

Could I change in the future? Oh I hope I do! I hope I never stop growing and becoming more and more like my friend named Jesus.

One day, He might even convict me to never let a curse word cross my lips again, but today is not that day.

Today, I feel like He is more concerned with me meeting people where they are – in that same deep, dark place I have been. Where they are cursing at and about God because they feel abandoned or betrayed by Him. They are edgy and raw and bitter…. and I can relate to them.

Right now I feel like that’s what they need from me most. To know they are not alone. To know they are not the only ones who love Jesus but are hurting, or doubting, or cussing…. The only ones who aren’t perfect. And to know He loves them even still despite those imperfections.

After I started writing this blog, I came across this passage in the New Testament. Turns out, Paul had some things to say about this very topic to the church in Corinth two thousand years ago. He talks about “becoming all things to all men”, so that he might relate to them:

To the Jews I became as a Jew, so that I might win Jews [for Christ]; to men under the Law, [I became] as one under the Law, though not being under the Law myself, so that I might win those who are under the Law. To those who are without (outside) the Law, [I became] as one without the Law, though [I am] not without the law of God, but under the law of Christ, so that I might win those who are without law. To the weak I became [as the] weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men, so that I may by all means [in any and every way] save some [by leading them to faith in Jesus Christ]. And I do all this for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings along with you. [1^st Corinthians 9:20-23 AMP]

Extra Reading

Paul also had some things to say about judging, criticizing and condemning other people (which I definitely know God wants me to keep working on):

Welcome with open arms fellow believers who don’t see things the way you do. And don’t jump all over them every time they do or say something you don’t agree with—even when it seems that they are strong on opinions but weak in the faith department. Remember, they have their own history to deal with. Treat them gently.

For instance, a person who has been around for a while might well be convinced that he can eat anything on the table, while another, with a different background, might assume he should only be a vegetarian and eat accordingly. But since both are guests at Christ’s table, wouldn’t it be terribly rude if they fell to criticizing what the other ate or didn’t eat? God, after all, invited them both to the table. Do you have any business crossing people off the guest list or interfering with God’s welcome? If there are corrections to be made or manners to be learned, God can handle that without your help.

Or, say, one person thinks that some days should be set aside as holy and another thinks that each day is pretty much like any other. There are good reasons either way. So, each person is free to follow the convictions of conscience.

None of us are permitted to insist on our own way in these matters. It’s God we are answerable to—all the way from life to death and everything in between—not each other. That’s why Jesus lived and died and then lived again: so that he could be our Master across the entire range of life and death, and free us from the petty tyrannies of each other.

So where does that leave you when you criticize a brother? And where does that leave you when you condescend to a sister? I’d say it leaves you looking pretty silly—or worse. Eventually, we’re all going to end up kneeling side by side in the place of judgment, facing God. Your critical and condescending ways aren’t going to improve your position there one bit.

So tend to your knitting. You’ve got your hands full just taking care of your own life before God.

Forget about deciding what’s right for each other. Here’s what you need to be concerned about: that you don’t get in the way of someone else, making life more difficult than it already is. I’m convinced—Jesus convinced me!—that everything as it is in itself is holy. We, of course, by the way we treat it or talk about it, can contaminate it.

… So let’s agree to use all our energy in getting along with each other. Help others with encouraging words; don’t drag them down by finding fault.

(Excerpt from Romans 14, MSG)

That’s good stuff right there.

I know this was a super long post, so I appreciate you sticking with me. In case you got lost, I’ll reiterate the key takeaways:

We all have something after our but.

Stop worrying about other people’s buts.

Your buts – and your heart – are between you and the Holy Spirit.

And finally, I love you, even if you slip an f-bomb everyone once in a while. Ps, so does Jesus! 😉
Here’s another great blog along these same lines that left me clapping and cheering when I read it about a year ago: http://faithit.com/f-bombs-and-bikinis-what-it-really-means-to-be-a-christian/

#RealTalk

Can we talk about something?

Life is messy. Like….really messy. #realtalk

My life was like a fairytale, until it wasn’t anymore. And I didn’t know how to handle that at all. I spent a lot of years angry and bitter at God. Today, my life doesn’t look anything like I dreamed it would, but I’m learning to love the way it looks now.

I started out polished and perfect (at least pretending to be) and knowing all the answers but came out the other side of the lowest pit of my life real and raw and vulnerable, asking “Now What?”.

I met and fell wildly in love with Grace – you might know Him as Jesus – and He’s been taking me on this crazy ride ever since.

I started this journey called blogging two years ago, having no idea what I was doing. (That’s how I do most things in life #realtalk) But they said I needed thing thing called a platform to be a successful author – and that is the deepest passion in my heart. I still have no idea what I’m doing, but that’s where I want you and I to walk together.

If you spend most of the time trying to figure out what the heck you’re supposed to be doing next in life life, you and I are on the same page.

If you spend more days hopeless rather than hopeful, overwhelmed rather than at peace, angry at and confused with God rather than praising Him, then you’re not alone, I’ve been there, and you’re in the right place.

I don’t have all the answers – but I promise to share the ones I have found for myself along the way, and maybe they can help you too.

Urban Dictionary Defines Real Talk as: used in the sense to affirm what someone is saying as a true, or valid statement and that they are expressing sincere thoughts and opinions.

This is what what I want the heart of this blog to be. In fact, I’m re-branding everything – my blog will be called “#RealTalk with Rachel Dawn” to coincide with the monthly video series I launched back in June.

In case you missed them, you can catch the replay of the first two videos over on my Facebook page (that’s where I go LIVE from), or click the links below.

Episode 1 – No body Likes a Negative Nancy
(yes, we literally streamed sideways for the first 10 minutes.)

Episode 1 – OVERWHELMED! (overcoming stress, burnout and overwhelm)

I promise to learn and get better every month. (I literally JUST figured out how to record in landscape mode….the struggle is real, you guys #RealTalk)

And, I promise to post the videos here to my blog after they are up moving forward.

Next month we are diving in to a little heavier topic: What do you do when God seems silent or distant?

I would love for you to join us! Stay tuned, date TBA.

I’ve also got some new blog posts coming (keep an eye on your email tomorrow) and a whole new website design underway. It’s going to be exciting!

Thanks for sticking around with me, I’m looking forward to some #RealTalk with you.

Unfinished: Waiting for What’s Next

“Not scared to say it, I used to be the one
Preachin’ it to you, that you could overcome
I still believe it, but it ain’t easy
‘Cause that world I painted, where things just all work out
It started changing and I started having doubts
And it got me so down…”

-Mandisa, Unfinished

Turns out Mandisa and I are practically the same person. Who knew?

Remember last month when I wrote to you about What to do with the Death of a Dream? It’s not that I was being disingenuous at that time, but I have a confession: The reason I felt compelled to share that message with you is because I am in a place where I am struggling with believing in my dreams right now. Those words I wrote to you were just as much a reminder to myself.

I don’t know at what point I stopped believing in my dreams. But it happened. And I didn’t even realize it had until I found myself crying into the pages of Mark Batterson’s Circle Maker, unable to bring myself to believe his words within.

Our enemy is sly, y’all.

I have found, in my life, the easiest places for him to attack me are in areas I have already overcome and told other people about, things I’ve even helped other people overcome in their own lives. Preachin it to them…

Because then he can plague me with these thoughts, Oh no! what if people find out I’m a hypocrite?! What if they find out I don’t have it all together, after I said I did?! I mean, I’m the girl who signs books, “your story isn’t over yet!”

That’s what Mandisa is talking about. I’m sure she had a lot of those same thoughts between her 2013 album “Overcomer” and her most recent, “Out of the Dark”, which includes the track above. The lyrics that come next in her song Unfinished, map a blueprint for us in this place:

“But I picked myself back up, I started tellin’ me,
‘No, my God’s not done, makin’ me a masterpiece’

He’s still working on me,

He started something good and I’m gonna believe it
He started something good and He’s gonna complete it.

So I celebrate the Truth: His work in me ain’t through
I’m just unfinished.”

Unfinished

Can I tell you something I’ve come to embrace – dearly – in this season of my life? My mentor, Jennifer Beckham, has been saying it for years, but I’m just starting to grasp it for myself, and it gives me permission to breathe: I’m still a work in progress.

Unfinished.

Which means I haven’t arrived. Even if I did write a book about coming out of one pit in my life, that doesn’t mean I’ll spend the rest of my life on a mountaintop.

And I have to stop beating myself up every time I feel like I take a step backward. (Can I get an amen?)

There is an interesting season after the realization of a dream or a pursuit, when it’s easy to feel lost and confused. An ok-what-do-I-do-next? season.

Subconsciously, I knew this before publishing my book. I think that’s why it took me two years to actually get it out after I wrote it…. some of that may have been deliberate procrastination.

I foresaw this line of thinking for myself: Ok, I have dedicated the last 2 ½ years of my life to this one thing, this one goal, this one mission. It gives me life and energy and focus. It allows me to walk every day on a clear path of obedience toward the mark God has called me. It’s me literally living in my purpose. And once it’s over, once the goal is accomplished, once the book is out and on the shelf, what do I do now? What will I do with my time and my life to feel significant and purposed?

What I didn’t foresee was how indescribably HARD these thoughts and emotions would hit me. And how hollow it would make me feel.

It’s only in writing this I called to mind a quote I heard years ago, “Never let a dream come true steal your dream.”

Meaning, don’t let accomplishing one thing keep you from accomplishing everything else God has created you for.

With each dream realized, you’ve got to set new dreams and goals for yourself. And I have not done that. At all.

(Sidenote: I acknowledge what I’m saying means I have been finding my significance in my work for God, rather than in my relationship with Him. A mindset I don’t think I understand how to transition out of yet. But that’s a whole other psychological and spiritual evaluation for another day.)

Dreams Do Come True

When I launched my book in November of last year, I was at an all-time high – it was the realization of a lifelong dream come true. I did not anticipate the series of emotional crashes that came next.

As I type this in retrospect, I think I see the dream-thieving pieces come together:

The month of my book launch, I expected to sell a certain number of copies and I came in at a fraction of that. I was devastated.

I sullenly reported the numbers to a friend in the industry and she told me my numbers were actually really great for a self-published author, which led me to doing some research. I found out most nonfiction books today – traditionally-published or self-published – never sell more than 3,000 copies in their lifetime. Usually no more than 300 in the first year.

So my numbers weren’t that bad after all, it was my expectations that were off. And I found solace in this fact at the time.

Looking back, that was exactly what my enemy wanted. For me to lower my expectations, and to keep lowering them. And keep lowering them. Until eventually, I didn’t expect much of anything above “average” for my future at all.

I had relegated myself to “this is just the way it is in the publishing world today” and I was “right on track” – with average.

YOU DREAMED BIG I have been anti-average my entire life. Repulsed by it even.

There is a delicate balance I surf between contentment and wanting more – feeling like God is calling me to more. But lately, it’s been just been discontentment and disbelief all around.

I find myself teetering on a ledge between believing for more, one more time, or just….settling.

It feels too hard and too painful to get my hopes up again; to stretch my faith and to see a vision beyond where I am now. It seems much easier to just settle for how far I’ve come.

You can settle at all different levels you know. There’s a temptation for it all your life, a pressure just to give in and give up hope. You can settle at $20,000 when it feels too hard to believe for $40,000, you can settle for $40,000 when it seems like $80,000 is out of reach, you can even settle at $100,000 or a million.

You can settle for 500 books sold when believing for 5,000 seems impossible. Which is the place I found myself.

So by the time I stumbled across Mark Batterson’s book, The Circle Maker, buried in an ebay sale pile of my mom’s, my belief and expectations were so low that the author’s words were a shocking wake-up call.

Inside, Batterson tells the backstory leading up to the launch of his first book, In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day. He writes about a faith-stretching financial commitment he made and how God came through on it BIG time:

A faith promise is an amount of money pledged to missions above and beyond the tithe. It’s not based on a budget; it’s based on faith. Honestly, we [my wife and I] had no idea how we’d be able to give the amount of money we pledged…

…On the day we made the pledge, July 31^st, 2005, I blogged what I believed: “I have a holy anticipation that I can’t even put into words. I can’t wait to see how God provides what we promised.” Two months later on October 4, 2005, I landed my first book contract. The advance on that four-book deal was THIRTY TIMES GREATER than the pledge we had made.

…I was thrilled about getting the book contract, but I was even more thrilled about writing the largest check we had ever written for a kingdom cause.

In December 2010, he signed another book contract, the gift he and his wife gave on that advance was THIRTY TIMES LARGER than the original faith promise they had made five years before!

What miraculous provision!!

I read more of the story: In the fall of 2006, a week before his first book was set to release, Batterson was speaking at a men’s conference when he asked for God’s blessing on the book. He writes:

I was painfully aware of the fact that 95% of books don’t sell five thousand copies, but I prayed a circle around the book and asked God to put a multiplication anointing on it. I mustered as much faith as I could and asked God to help it sell 25,000 copies. Of course I threw in the obligatory “if it be Your will” at the end. That tagline may sound spiritual, but it was less a submission to God’s will and more a profession of doubt. If you aren’t careful, the will of God can become a cop-out if things don’t turn out the way you want.

Reading that paragraph, hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I realized I couldn’t even begin to believe my book would sell 25,000 copies. The revelation was startling me. When had my dreams gotten so small? When had I lost my faith in the God who called me to write this book in the first place? When had I stopped trusting Him and His power?

“It’s easy to give up on your dreams, on miracles, on promises.
We lose heart, we lose patience, we lose faith. And like a slow leak, it often happens without us even knowing it…” – Mark Batterson

Reading those words, I felt like God was begging me to believe Him for such a miracle. To trust that He could to the same for me.

This is the same God who restores sight to the blind, who brings people back from the dead, who created the entire universe from His mouth and His hands. It should be easy for me to believe He can get a book into the right hands at the right time, enough times, right?

But I had settled for that cop-out Batterson referenced, with these nagging questions in my mind, Maybe it wasn’t God’s will for my book after all. Maybe I heard Him wrong. Maybe I should have waited for a publisher to pick it up, instead of being stubborn and forcing it to fruition myself. Maybe the timing was off. Maybe I didn’t launch it right…

Guys, can I tell you something? Following God, and following your dreams, is not easy.

I don’t have an answer to the question, “How do you know when it’s God or when it’s you in your own head?” Because I still ask myself that all.the.time.

All I can do is try to get it right each time, and trust that He will make it right even if I mess it up. Because I do know this: my heart is always in the right place of obedience, even if my ears aren’t always hearing crystal-clear.

I’m still a work in progress. Unfinished. He’s still working on me.

So that’s the place I rest in.

This week I thought to myself, I don’t even know how to dream anymore. Which made me cry all over again. And feel lost and hopeless.

Here’s what I’ve learned (over and over again), when I try to do things myself, I get exhausted and overwhelmed and it doesn’t turn out so well. But, when I ask God into the equation and rely on His help, I get to relax and it all works out.

So here’s the first step I took: I wrote to God in my prayer journal that He would have to teach me how to dream again. That He would have to show me a new dream. And show me if my old dreams, that are hard to believe in now, are things that were never from Him that I should let go of, or if that’s really what He wants for me.

And because my heart is rooted in obedience, I won’t take another step forward until I hear from Him.

So if you need me, I’ll be here, writing to you and waiting for what’s next.

Is there a dream that God wants to resurrect [in your life]? Is there some promise you need to reclaim? Is there some miracle you need to start believing for again?

The reason many of us give up too soon is because we feel like we failed if God doesn’t answer our prayer. The only way you can fail is if you stop praying.” – Mark Batterson

Wherever You Go, There You Are: How to Stop Running and Start Facing Life’s Challenges

“Wherever you go, there you are.”

That simple, yet profound, quote is one of my favorites. It plainly illustrates the truth that you can’t outrun your problems. No matter how far you go or how hard you try. Wherever you go, you will be there and until you deal with you, your problems won’t go away.

When I was working on my book, I had a vision for the second half to be a collection of stories from other people who had also been through what I called a “Now What? Moment”. A moment when everything in your life comes crashing down around you and you stare hopelessly at the sky asking, “Now What?”

My mind went to work right away, I could think of dozens of people in my life who had been through life-altering, dream-shattering circumstances like I had. I am beginning to believe almost every person on earth has been through something like this. So, the challenge wasn’t finding someone who had been through, but finding people who had faced those challenges head on instead of running. People who had – maybe even reluctantly like me – invited the redeeming, restorative power of God’s grace into those circumstances and come out healed and whole on the other side.

As I looked around me, I saw most people were just….running.

Filling their lives with things and activities and accomplishments and people to try and cover up or forget about what they had been through. I watched people bounce from relationship to relationship, job to job or even move across the country to try and “start fresh”.

Of course I thought about doing that too after my divorce, but that quote haunted me on repeat in my mind, “wherever you go, there you are”. I realized it wouldn’t do me any good to be anywhere else, or be with anyone else, if I wasn’t willing to face the mess inside of me.

So I did.

It was slow and painful and challenging. It looked like professional therapy and non-professional therapy sessions with friends. It looked like diving into books that radically changed the way I looked at and thought about the world. About relationships. About marriage. About God. Most of all, it looked like stopping the running, the grasping, and the pretending.

Pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t. Pretending like I was over it, when I was certainly not. Pretending like there were no residual effects from the picture I held of my whole life being shattering to pieces.

Thankfully, I did find some other people who had been down this road, people who had wrestled with grit and grace themselves, and come out renewed on the other side. And I was able to tell their stories in my book. Their stories are wonderful and powerful and have impacted many lives already!

I met another person recently who has an incredible “Now What?” story. Her name is Kimberly Dewberry, and I’d like to introduce her to you now. Kimberly writes and speaks to help other people deal with the fallout of living with alcoholic family members. Having grown up with an alcoholic father and married to an alcoholic husband, she’s no stranger to this pain and predicament herself. And she’s well-familiar with the mess that comes out of running, rather than facing, the issue.

Here is her story:

I’ve never been the athletic type. I’m the type of person who enjoys lazy Sunday afternoon naps after church. I love sitting at my desk as my fingernails click away at the keys. I’m perfectly content sleeping in on Saturdays. Plopping down on my end of the couch after a long day at the office and watching American Pickers is my idea of bliss. I’m not an extreme exerciser. I’m not into playing volleyball on a co-ed team at church. I’m not one of those people who goes for a run in the early morning. However, I once could be called an expert in running of a different sort.

The first time I made the decision to run came soon after my Dad began drinking again after years of sobriety. At 16, I couldn’t take the uncertainty of living in a home with an alcoholic. Too many days and nights of walking on eggshells, being ignored, or having yelling matches became too much for me. I decided to run away from home.

It didn’t last long, eventually I went back. So I dealt with the life of being a child of an alcoholic the best way I knew how. I told myself I only had one year left of school and then I could escape and have a peaceful life.

During my last year of high school, I dated different boys, looking for some sort of stability and love I felt I lacked. And at 18, I married one of those boys. I found my escape. Or so I thought.

In truth, I had run away from one unstable situation into more chaos than I could ever imagined. I quickly had two babies and a life far less than I had dreamed.

I found out that running from one bad situation into another didn’t help my state of mind. The next eleven years brought heartache, depression, and thoughts of suicide. If it were not for the grace of God, I would have made a permanent escape.

The darkness of the night I almost took my own life couldn’t compare to the darkness I had in my heart. On my way to the bathroom, where I walked to search for some pills that would do the trick, I looked on my dresser and there laid a pamphlet I had received at work that day. A phone number was listed beneath the words, “Need help?” I knew I needed help. I stopped and stared at it for a short while. Thoughts spinning in my mind. Suddenly, I felt my heart flutter. I grabbed the cordless phone, picked up the pamphlet and walked into the bathroom closing the door behind me. God’s love interceded and I called a suicide hotline.

In my selfish desperation to run away, I hadn’t thought about the consequences for the children I would be leaving behind. It wasn’t my time. God had work to do in me.

I accepted God’s healing that night, I found salvation the following Sunday, but my walk with Him was short lived. When things became too difficult again, I ran—from my life and God.

I divorced my first husband and remarried. And seven years into that second marriage, the running shoes came out again. I went my own way. I could handle things on my own. I didn’t need anyone’s help. Besides, I thought God wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like me. Someone who couldn’t even stay married. Someone who seemed to fail at everything.

Soon after my second divorce, I reunited with my high school sweetheart and we married in the Fall. My expertise in running away from my problems seemed to have finally worked! This was like a fairytale!

It wasn’t long before I realized the love of my life, my high school sweetheart, was in fact an alcoholic too. I had only run in a circle.

Over the first five years of our marriage we went from being inseparable to living separate lives under the same roof. I had settled into a mundane existence because I was tired of running. I couldn’t face the idea of yet another failed marriage. I was determined to stay married regardless of how awful it was.

During my life of running my Mom and Dad had separated. Mom moved in with me while Dad floated between different family members and eventually became homeless. He lived under bridges and in various homeless shelters. We didn’t know if he was dead or alive.

Then God decided to put an end to my running. Without any inclination or warning, my aunt called us to let us know Dad had been found in a local hospital with a broken hip and terminal stomach cancer. He somehow remembered her phone number and reached out to her. The doctor’s gave him a month to live, which he would spend in my home on hospice care.

God used the last three weeks of Dad’s life to teach me about his healing grace, mercy, and forgiveness. I had run from the chaos, but I could no longer run from God. He opened my eyes to my husband’s alcoholism. Patrick’s drinking had intensified over the five years of our marriage, but I thought I could fix it. God opened my eyes to my co-dependency and controlling behavior. At 16, when my Dad’s drinking started again, I felt out of control so controlling people, situations, and outcomes became my way of life.

God used the pain and grief of losing Dad to make me see that the only way to truly live is to be fully connected to a gracious, loving, merciful Heavenly Father. God is not like an earthly father, with faults and failings that you can run from. His love and timing are perfect, patiently waiting for us to grow weary of running from his open arms.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

Ecclesiastes 3:11

Thankfully, God not only saved me, but He saved my husband, too.

A few weeks after my Dad died, I was yet again nudged by God. This time, though, He nudged me to confront Patrick about his alcoholism. My husband immediately stopped drinking but after a few weeks, he made comments to me insinuating it was a temporary situation. Again, God’s nudging persisted. I followed His lead and asked my husband to leave.

God had very important work to do and we were getting in His way. Only God knew we needed to be apart and alone so we could rely fully on Him. We both did just that.

As a result, Patrick and I rededicated our lives to Christ. We each committed our lives to God on the same day, within hours. Neither of us knew it until a few days later when we agreed to meet to talk. I am amazed by God’s handiwork in our marriage! I give Him all the glory for saving not only each of us but our marriage too.

Out of all of this, I have taken on an entirely new identity. Despite the shortcomings of my earthly father, I am a child of God. I no longer have the need to control others because I no longer need other people to make me happy or feel satisfied. I have turned my life over to the care of my Heavenly Father. I no longer run away from problems that arise, instead I run to the One who saves me.

Jesus is my comforter.

He always has been and always will be.

And when life gets hard, I don’t have to run to anyone or anything but Him anymore.

A Little More About Kimberly:

I struggled for 25 years to cope with an addicted parent. I know first-hand how the serenity and peace of God’s redemption are keys to personal wholeness. In my weekly devotions, I share my story and provide valuable biblical principles for overcoming the effects of growing up with an addicted parent. Visit my blog or follow my social media!

http://www.kimberlydewberry.com

Hover Boards and House Shopping

[Clayton is the 9 year old boy who lives in my house with his mom, Jenny.]

Last night, Clayton came home from his dad’s house, where he had been since our “Christmas morning” celebration on the 24^th. He left ecstatic about all the incredible gifts Santa brought him – books and DVDs, video games, a razor scooter, a hover board, even his very own .22 rifle!

When he came home from his dad’s all he talked about was how much better the hover board he got there was than the one he got at our house. This hover board is so much smaller than the one I got at my dad’s house. The hover board at my dad’s house talks and plays music…. I could see how his words were hurting “Santa’s” feelings, and it certainly wasn’t making her feel very enthusiastic about giving him any more gifts in the future.

I bluntly called him out – because he’s not my kid, so I can do that,

“Hey! If you keep being a dick about the gifts Santa brought you, he’s not going to bring you any good gifts next year. Every time you complain about your hover board, that’s another tally mark in the ungrateful naughty kid column.”

(Let’s hold off on the debate about whether or not the belief in Santa Claus is psychologically or spiritually harmful – that’s a whole other conversation – and I know there are conflicting views on all sides. But, given his current frame of reference, this was a language he understood.)

The next comment he made about his hover board was an enthusiastic, “This hover board is so much lighter than the one at my dad’s, so that makes it easier to carry around; it’s more mobile!”

Mission accomplished.

Now, I know Clayton and I know his heart, and in general, he is not an ungrateful kid. Quite the opposite. In fact, I imagine if he was aware from whom the gifts really came, he would never have uttered a single negative comment. He just needed a small mental check. A correction.

His words and his attitude got me thinking about times we all slip into moments or seasons of ungrateful-ness.

It was only a month ago I, myself, was convicted of being guilty of the exact same thing Clayton was doing.

Barry and I spent years – literally – shopping for a house. (God bless our extremely patient and gracious real estate agent Doug who accompanied us all over the city of Cincinnati in and out of several dozen homes.)

Our final and ultimate prayer was that God would put us in the house that would be best used to serve Him, that would be the biggest blessing to people He wanted us to bless. We made known the specific elements our hearts desired in a home, but trumping all of that, our deepest desire was that our house be used as a tool for Him. And because our hearts were pure in that, He would surely provide all of our preferences as an added reward.

When we bought the house we live in, it happened in such a whirlwind we wondered if we had made the right choice. It was only 3 days from the time it came onto the market til it was ours and the closing was set. We found ourselves whiplashed, Do we even like that house? What does it even look like, do you remember? We were only there 30 minutes!!

But our confirmation came soon enough.

Before we even signed the closing documents, we went to lunch with our friend Jenny after church. Jenny, a single mom, started telling us how stressed she was trying to find a place for Clayton to go a couple days after school because she had moved out of his school district and her nursing schedule did not allow her to pick him up those days. She was near tears about it while telling us she had been crying for days not seeing any possible solution in sight.

The house we were moving into was in his school district, and in a heartbeat, we offered that he get off the bus at our house those days. My husband and I both work from home when not traveling for our jobs, so it was settled and a provided sigh of massive relief for her.

Fast forward six months, Jenny and Clayton actually ended up moving in with us when their housing situation changed and they needed time (and a roof over their heads) while they shopped for a home of their own.

It has been so blatantly obvious to all of us, from the beginning, that if, for nothing else than Jenny and Clayton, this house was the house we were supposed to be in. Without question I knew that. In the deepest part of my knower.

Yet, for the last 18 months, I have done nothing but complain about this house. Not the house. I love the house – and the 5 acres it sits on – I just haaaate where it’s located. Hate.

I wanted to stay in West Chester, the part of town from which we moved. It’s an adorable bustling suburb on the north side of Cincinnati, conveniently located off the major highway and literally 5 minutes from every dining, shopping and entertainment option you could dream of or want for. Plus, it was only about a 20 minute from drive almost any other part of the city – Mason, Oakley, Monroe (where the outlets are), Historic Lebanon, even Downtown.

Where we moved is a “developing” suburb (they call it) far out on the northeast side of Cincinnati. We are now a minimum of 15-20 minutes off any interstate in any direction, and the same distance or more to any decent dining, organic grocer, or any entertainment better than Redbox kiosks. The Kroger is tiny with no selection, there’s no Walmart “on the way home”, the Walgreens is on the wrong side of the road, my bank is impossible to get in and out of due to one way street signs and bad civil engineering, all of our friends are sooo much farther away, AND, you can’t even see the sunset from this part of town…..The petty complaints rolled on ad nauseam. (I feel really sorry for my sweet husband who endured all of this, with a positive attitude.)

One day, just a few weeks ago while writing in my prayer journal I had a revelation about just how ignorant I was being. How hypocritical. God had given me EXACTLY what I had prayed for. A house, first and foremost, to bless other people – which we were doing – in a huge way.

I had literally told the “God story”, about the house being so perfect for Jenny & Clayton’s situation, to dozens of people and given them goosebumps in the meantime.

But right out of the other side of my mouth, I spent that same amount of time criticizing the move to just as many.

I wasn’t disingenuous in my prayer from the start. I was truly, wholly heart-set on the house being a blessing to others first, and to us secondarily. But, my words and actions had not lined up with that prayer after-the-fact. Even though my prayer had been answered, in exactly the way I had asked for it.

Wow. Talk about conviction. Talk about missing it big time. I felt like such a fool. How did I not see that for so long?

I did a LOT of repenting that day, to God, AND to Barry.

I wondered what other things (blessings, opportunities) had been hindered in my life for the last year and a half because of my ungrateful and hypocritical attitude.

Like any parent, God certainly wasn’t looking to throw more gifts in my direction while I was running around like a spoiled brat about the ones He already gave me. I pictured Him up in heaven like, “HEY! If you’re going to keep being a dick about the house I gave you, I’m not going to hurry up in getting you the next one.” (Because God speaks to me in a language I understand.)

I got angry that I had been blind to my ungrateful attitude for so long. I could see how the enemy was intentionally shielding it from my view, because he wanted to keep me in the dark and off limits from the other blessings God had for me.

But in the end I was just thankful that my eyes were finally opened. That I can correct the behavior and catch myself if I slip into that place again.

It was such a gentle correction, it wasn’t harsh or condemning, and it only reaffirmed how loved I truly am.

Father – Thank you for loving me enough to use your Spirit to correct me when I need it. I pray that I would be more receptive to these corrections sooner in the future, and would spend less time operating in blind spots. Most of all, thank you for the grace that covers me when I miss the mark this badly! I love you. Amen.

The Other Brother

I can pinpoint the exact season(s) in my life when I have been the prodigal.

The rest of the time, I have been really, really good at being the other brother.

Feeling like I deserve things because I’m “the good one”, the responsible one; I follow the rules, I make good grades, I make good decisions. I’m REALLY good at being good.

But notice the character for whom the story is written. The reason it’s recorded in history. It’s called “the parable of the lost son”, not “the parable of the really good son”.

God LOVES the prodigals. They bring Him so much joy! He loves to celebrate them! It’s not that He doesn’t love the other brother, but notice where brother is at the end of the story: outside the party, sulking.

I want to be on the inside, joyfully rejoicing with my Father at ALL times. Not on the outside feeling slighted and entitled.

“‘My son,’ the Father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.'” – Luke 15:31-32

but while he was still prodigal son luke.png