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/

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.

Unqualified

Three Summers ago my stomach was in knots as I hit the send button emailing in my application to work as a camp counselor. I was afraid I wouldn’t be accepted because of what I had been through. I doubted I was worthy or qualified. I wondered if my divorce would make me appear as a negative role model that the staff wouldn’t want around their teenagers or own kids. Thankfully, I was graciously accepted and blessed with the opportunity to serve at Camp Northward’s high school week for the last two years.

This year my church, Crossroads, started their own senior high camp and I had a familiar flutter of insecurity when I applied for a volunteer position. But again I was welcomed with open arms.

On Tuesday, two of the girls in my small group expressed interest in being baptized. After discussing it further and talking with their parents, they decided to move forward with it at camp.

As we were prepping for the logistics of that day, the first of the girls asked if I could be the one to do it, I wholeheartedly and enthusiastically agreed, but then had to walk away as I was overcome with emotion. I could hardly stand as I wanted to fall on my face in absolute awe of my God. When the second girl asked, the impact was no less overwhelming.

I am constantly amazed at how God chooses to use me over and over again – even though I am so unworthy and so unqualified. Even though I have failed Him and missed the mark so many times. Despite the fact I have rebelled and gone my own way in the past. Regardless that I continually have to remind myself to let control go and trust Him… He STILL chooses me. He STILL pursues me. He STILL uses me in the lives of other people. Every time I allow Him to.
And EVERY SINGLE TIME He surpasses what I could even think of or imagine.

He is a good good Father.

it is in your broken places

A Billion Dollar Lesson In Disobedience

“When I talk to you….listen.” – God

So we all have lessons to learn in life, but we don’t always learn our lessons the first time, or the second time, or the easy way.

I was recently reminded of an important lesson – again – and I’m pretty sure I won’t be forgetting it this time.

Most people have those, “if only I had thought of that…” moments in life, after the fact. Let me tell you about mine.

Rachel, (it’s her blog…she’s my wife….on with my story) started traveling for work quite a few years ago, and would end up in questionable parts of town in different cities around North America. It bothered me a lot more than it bothered her, I didn’t like the idea of her being in places like that with me 1,000 miles away. One night while she was away, I came up with a great app idea that would color-code a map to show where “safe”/”unsafe” parts of town were in any given city. I shared the idea with her and she agreed it was cool and would be useful.

Unfortunately for me, I allowed seemingly large obstacles stop me from acting on the idea. Thoughts like, “I don’t know how to make apps!?” And “Surely someone else has already come up with/done this.” Or “Where would I even start?” “How much will it cost?”

I say seemingly large obstacles, because looking back NONE of those should have stopped me. I mean, that is what entrepreneurs do – they find a way to push through; push through what they want to do and do what they need to do, push through the doubts about themselves, the doubts of others and sometimes (maybe even most times) the doubts of logic – to create something truly special.
I had always been entrepreneurial at heart and knew that’s eventually what I wanted to be full-time.

About a year ago, we attended a entrepreneurship conference at our church. At that conference a contest was held, business ideas were pitched and a small cash prize was awarded to the winner.

Crazy thing, the winner of the contest that day had “my” app idea!

I was bummed personally but it’s not like I ever did much with the idea except tell my wife, kick it around an hour here or there, then allow procrastination and inaction take over.

At the conference, I actually went up and congratulated the winner and thanked him for acting on the idea to make happen.
It was motivating to me although frustrating at the same time. That experience confirmed in me that I am smart and I can come up with great ideas – I just need to follow through.

A year later, our church’s Start-Up Accelerator program was “graduating” one class of new businesses, and taking applications/pitches for the next class. They were making an announcement about the success of the previous class. Turns out, the guy who won that “little” contest at the conference was also invited into the Accelerator. He had just pitched the idea at “DEMO day”, to investors from all over the world, and was told the idea is worth potentially a BILLION dollars. That’s with a B and heck of a lot of zeros following it.

I immediately felt like I got punched in the gut. My face probably went pale, and I thought I would puke right there in the pew.

What had I done? Or rather NOT done! I failed my wife, my family, and future generations and so many others. The voice in my head said, “way to go Barry another opportunity at greatness that you let pass by, due to procrastination.”

For the next couple hours I had myself quite a grand self-pity party. I had moments of clarity and motivation, but mainly pity. I was miserable to my wife and anyone unfortunate enough to be around me.

Then I began writing this because God started talking to me again and this time I chose to listen.
I want to share my revelation with you.

You see “I” didn’t have that idea. He had that idea, and planted it inside me, He gave me an opportunity.

God will get His ideas done with or without you but He wants you to be a part of them, to bless you, but you have to listen.

That app idea was worth a Billion dollars and yes, I could have/should have been a part of it. But it wasn’t about me making money, it wasn’t even about me at all.

Follow me here: God needed a way to route some money (He always works through people to get things done on earth). Earlier this year, our church announced a campaign to fund some incredible things they feel God calling them to do in our city, around our country and around the world. From tackling poverty in the inner city, launching new sites, building infrastructure for impoverished and orphaned children in third world countries, rescuing and rehabilitating girls out of sex slavery… amazing, world-changing initiatives. It will take HUNDREDS of MILLIONS of dollars to see all those things through to fruition. God’s end goal was getting money into my church.

Yes, personal financial gain would have been a bi-product of my obedience. But God knew what I would turn around and do with that money.

He was providing my church with a patron, in possession of God’s idea, to turn around and bless them and therefore use those resources to serve God and reach others.

How selfish and ignorant of me to first ignore God, but then second, think it was about me.

Some of you may be reading this saying, so what! Someone thought of something you thought of. They made it happen and you were lazy and didn’t do it. Happens all the time, How’s that God?

Think about it, in all the world of 6 billion people, two people in the same city, at the same church, have the same idea that is worth an insane amount of money within a relatively short amount of time?

One listened, the other didn’t. But God still made it happen. Those resources will still flow and His kingdom will grow and prosper because of it.

I haven’t talked to the guy who made it happen since that day at the conference. Good for him for listening to God and making it happen.

I mentioned he had a cool story behind it and funny enough it is similar to how I thought of the idea initially. But his story is even cooler once you learn what he overcame to beat those obstacles and put himself in a position to end up where he has. And now he will be rightfully blessed for that obedience and hard work.

I repented for my disobedience and asked for forgiveness. I also asked God not to give up on me and to continue to pursue me and talk to me.

My hope and prayer is that He chooses to bless me with more opportunities for greatness to serve Him and that when He does, I will be BRAVE enough, diligent enough, and in close enough relationship with my Dad that I hear His voice and without hesitation answer, “YES!” Then joyously run toward whatever idea, adventure, life, and calling He has in store for me.

I believe He will answer my prayer. I’ll be listening for Him that’s for sure.

– Guest Blog by Barry Neuberger

Barry is an avid outdoorsman, semi-professional gourmet chef, and former collegiate club soccer star. He currently runs multiple businesses and always thinking of the next. He lives in Cincinnati with his wife Rachel and their full house of animals.

UPDATE: This blog was first posted as a “trillion dollar lesson” because that was the figure used from stage at church, but Barry decided that sounded a bit unbelievable and possibly the speaker misspoke. A billion dollar figure is much more realistic and believable for this kind of idea.

Woman Camp

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Recently, my church held a camping weekend woman’s retreat, they called it “Woman Camp”.

Ten years ago, if you had told me I would be signing up for a camping trip for 500 women only – voluntarily – I would have thought you were crazy. Sure I had attended plenty of women-only events… out of sheer obligation, but not excitedly. And I didn’t really feel like I fit in when I was there, I just didn’t relate.

In case you don’t know me, I am exactly equal parts fashionista and tomboy; which means you’re just as likely to catch me barefoot as you are in AWESOME stilettos. My best friends had almost exclusively always been guys and that’s who I spent time with.
If you were a female, you had to be not “chick-like”, but love shoes as much as me, to be invited into my circle. Chicks were crazy, high-maintenance and drama, I said.

And then, after a few years of experiencing hurt and neglect and verbal abuse and rejection, I became one of the crazy chicks. I suddenly understood all their feelings and irrational behaviors for the first time. I found myself acting out, just as irrationally.
I experienced the “why” behind their “what”, the root behind their fruit (as Jennifer Beckham would say), firsthand.

And that’s when it happened: My heart broke for them. All of them. From the most meek and timid and insecure, to the most angry and bitter and malicious, because under the surface they were all dealing with the same root(s), and so was I. I got it.

My heart softened toward them. I started listening to them instead of talking about them. Many of their stories were so similar to mine.

And then, I got mad. I saw how easily the enemy manipulates and abuses this gender – my gender. And in my heart, an agape love for these people was cultivated.

And then a handful of beautiful girls stepped alongside me and showed me what a sisterhood looks like. They loved me relentlessly and graciously accepted all my parts – the good, the bad, the tomboy and the ugly. 😉 And I wanted to do the same for them.

It didn’t take long before all the pieces fit together, and a PASSION for leading women out of bondage and shame, fear and isolation and into freedom, healing, wholeness and restoration was born in my soul.

That’s what this Woman Camp weekend was about for me – getting to be a part of that movement in Cincinnati, inside my church community. I got a glimpse of what that passion looks like coming to fruition. I wanted a front row seat to watch God do incredible, miraculous things in and through women. And I was excited to be a part of or help facilitate lives changing in any way I could.

This weekend was also a time of refreshing and worship away with my Father. It was Him showing me his plans and visions for me, once again. Him reminding me that He is handling everything, from every angle, and I’m just along for the ride – Safe. Protected. Provisioned. Called. Chosen. Anointed. Unqualified, but made qualified for this task through Him.

Let the veils stay lifted away and burned for each of us, and a clear picture of who God says we are and is calling us to be be branded in our mind’s eye. Our God has so much more for us. We are free women. No longer slaves to fear. We are children of God.

The Year God Stopped Talking to Me

New year’s day 2016 I sat on my living room couch, face red-stained and eyes puffy from hours of crying, my voice half-strained from screaming – at God – in particularly colorful language at times.

Why?

Because it was New Year’s Day and as I sat down to reflect on the previous year and craft my plans and goals for the next, I realized 2015…..Well…..sucked.

Sure there were good things in 2015. In fact, on the outside it looked like a GREAT year:
We bought our first house.
Barry left his job where he was miserable and went into business with his Dad.
We took my my mom on an incredible trip to Hawaii for her 60th birthday.
I finished the last chapter of my book
Started a blog and author social media pages
Began my public speaking career…..

But behind the scenes:
The first two months in our new house Barry and I fought more than we had in the first five years of our relationship – combined.
Barry’s new arrangement with his dad happened a little prematurely than they planned and put a lot of pressure on both of them. Which caused Barry to be tense and irritable and led to us fighting more.
The second day of our incredible Hawaii trip, I got a call that my high school best friend overdosed on heroin and died and I spent most the trip bouncing back and forth between laughing and enjoying the present moment and crying after being blindsided by another memory of him.
I was told blogging and creating a social media following was necessary for building a platform for a book release. But once I started, they only added extra work and mental energy to my already overflowing plate. Which caused me to feel exhausted and (you guessed it) led to us fighting more.
My new speaking career was also happening earlier than I anticipated – it felt overwhelming and intimidating to me, like I was in over my head. I constantly questioned if I was ready or qualified for the task at hand, leaving me feeling insecure and vulnerable.

The fact that all of these things happened within a three month timespan caused so much stress, tension, and anxiety in my life – and my body- it literally almost broke my gallbladder.

I experienced excruciating pain that resulted getting 3-4 hours of sleep a night, for months. It was so bad I almost went to the emergency room on more than one occasion. I lived in fear of every meal I ate because I never knew what was going to hurt me and what wasn’t. For about a month, I ate nothing but rotisserie chicken and apples, since I knew those were two things that would not cause pain.

Sure, there were good things that came as a result of the bad things:
My alarming health challenge caused Barry and I to stop fighting. I had never felt his love as tangibly as I did in those months, as he cared for me, sat up with me, rubbed the soreness out of my back from being hunched over for hours, stayed up with me, and prayed for me.
He took over as the spiritual leader in our home, standing in the gap for me as I struggled with doubt, uncertainty and fear.
These things aroused a great respect and admiration in me for him, and caused me to fall more deeply in love with him than I ever had been.

Days leading up to New Year’s, I couldn’t stop reminding myself that the ONE thing I did want to get accomplished in 2015 – publishing my book – didn’t happen.

I literally had a single goal, a single dream, a single resolution for two-thousand-fifteen: to put my book on physical (and digital) bookshelves and into hands of people who so desperately need it.
And it. didn’t. happen.

I felt like a total failure. Like I had wasted an entire year of my life.

And, in the midst of aaaaallllll that, God was completely, and utterly, silent. He had been for months at that point.

For countless nights I sat up in hours of pain, I had been pleading with God to show Himself to me. To show me the purpose in any of this.

I had reasoned if the manifestation of my healing wasn’t happening physically immediately, then there must be something I was supposed to be learning in the meantime. Something God wanted to teach me in this place of waiting.

I began asking Him what that was and let Him know I was fully open and joyfully on-board with learning whatever the lesson. Honestly.

Awaiting a reply, I got: NOTHING.
Not a peep.
Nada.
Zilch.
Not a single word

And then, our basement flooded.

That’s when the crying started.

It was New Year’s Eve. As we sat at home, instead of out ringing in the new year with our friends, dismantling drywall and sucking water out with a carpet shampooer, the weight of everything just hit me. I reached my breaking point. And enough tears to fill our basement a second time came spilling out of me.

I began crying out to God again.

If you’re going to make me go through all of this, at least tell me what I’m supposed to be learning! What I’m supposed to be getting out of it!! I shouted at Him.

Still nothing.

I don’t deserve this! I am being so faithful. Do you not see me? Are you not paying attention? Look at me!! What more do you want from me?!

[I began to feel a little like the bi-polar David in Psalms: “I love you Lord, your eyes are always upon me, you have blessed me abundantly.” Very next verse, “God, why do you hate me? My enemies are about to destroy me, why aren’t you watching?!”]

More silence.

And that’s when I got angry.

By New Year’s day, I was yelling most of the same things – just use your imagination to insert expletives in the middle of every sentence. (I guess I had moved on to a little bit of Job at that point….)

Now, what would make this story really great is if this is the part where I tell you, “and then God’s voice boomed audibly into my living room and said, ‘Rachel, oh ye of little faith, I Am still right here.’”

But that’s not what happened.

In fact, I had to sit on this blog for several months because my prayers for a Word and an understanding remained unanswered.

This was the first time since becoming a Christian – really becoming a Christian, since God had pursued me and I met Him in a real and intimate way five years ago – that I wasn’t hearing from Him, that I couldn’t feel Him close to me.

I had relegated myself to the thought that I was just in spiritual dry/desert season and would have to wait it out. (You can read about the desert season here: http://racheldawnwrites.com/blog/deserts)

But Now…..The Rest of the Story

A couple months prior to my New Year’s Day meltdown, a friend reached out to me asking me if I could recommend any specific scripture to help her through a current rough season. I told her, “That’s not really the way my relationship with God works – I hear from Him in songs, and books about Him, or books about the Bible, or even from Him directly (in my mind).” I recommended some songs that really helped me when I was in the same place, and a couple books she could read. And went on about my day.

See, I had tried reading the Bible all the way through, more than once, without success. And anytime I was dealing with something specific, I tried flipping to the concordance to find verses that applied to my own situation, but I always turned up empty – the verses would feel disconnected from what I was going through, so I gave up on that.

Whenever I needed an answer about something, I picked up a Christian book on the topic or found a preacher teaching a message about it to get my answer.

In those weeks of silence while battling my gallbladder symptoms, I began reading a book a friend had recommended to me. It was a topical study Bible called, “The Complete Personalized Promise Bible for Women”. I planned on using it for reference to find healing scriptures to meditate on, but I started with page 1 of the introduction and I’m glad I did. It hooked me, and I started reading it as a daily devotional of sorts.

For each section/topic, there is a promise, a faith confession for that promise, then scriptures backing up the confession.

While studying there, I came across this verse in 2^nd Thessalonians: “So then, brothers, stand firm and hold on to the teachings passed on to you, whether by word of mouth OR BY LETTER.”

I started laughing as it occurred to me Paul was writing to the early church in Thessalonica; those people were getting their messages from God in written letters, via Paul.

And in that moment Paul’s letter was to me saying: “God has written a letter to you. Stand firm and hold on to the things He wrote down 2,000 years ago.”

The next day as I sat writing in my prayer journal, praising God for using that verse to speak to me, I started laughing again as another revelation came: The Bible is called “God’s Word” – literally God’s Words. The Words He spoke to the people He loved. He had already said plenty to me, and it was all written down and recorded, preserved in time, so I could revisit it anytime I wanted or needed.

I was humbled. How arrogant of me to expect Him to talk to me, when I want, in the manner I want?

All that time I was in the desert, He was talking to me right in those pages, but I wasn’t receiving it. I wasn’t even looking in the right place!

How many tears (and angry words), how much stress and heartache, would I have saved myself if I had only looked there earlier? How different could the year 2015 have been?

God – thanks for never leaving us, and never forsaking us. Thanks for loving us enough to send and leave Your Word for us. And thanks for your everlasting and unconditional grace that we can never ever use up, because we need it – big time.

God is in the Restoration Business

He breathes life into lifeless places.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a relationship, your health, your emotions, your dreams….

He brings dry bones out of the grave and wraps them in flesh once more.

He Restores the years you lost, the love you lost, the friends you lost, the faith you lost, the dreams you lost, the opportunities you lost. Over and above what we can even think of or imagine.

He makes all things new, again.

If you let Him.

If something in your life needs total restoration, read these promises below and be encouraged.

He CAN do it.
He HAS done it for others (including me).
He WANTS to do it for you.
“Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?” (Jeremiah 32:27, ESV)

“Be glad, O children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God, for he has given the early rain for your vindication; he has poured down for you abundant rain, the early and the latter rain, as before.The threshing floors shall be full of grain; the vats shall overflow with wine and oil. I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you. You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you.” (Joel 2:23-26, ESV)

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” (Isaiah 43:19)

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin! Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice. Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.” (Psalm 51:1-2, 6-12, ESV)

“Return to your fortress, O prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.” (Zechariah 9:12, NIV)

GOD IS IN (2)

Deserts

Lately I’ve been feeling….dry.

And by “lately” I mean for like the last 6 months. And by “dry” I mean a little dead on the inside. Spiritually.

I have heard about spiritual desert seasons people go through. When they feel distant from God.

And I’ve seen the cheesy church signs that say things like:
“Feeling distant from God?
Who moved – you or Him?”

Thanks for that extra guilt and shame, church sign. In a time when I already feel lost and confused.

The fact of the matter is, I have been marching steadily toward the purpose and the mission to which God has called me. Not away from it or Him. So why do I feel so….blah?

At the beginning, when I started, when I was writing my book and right after I finished, when I started to tell people about it, and started telling my story, every day was exciting and new!! Filled with limitless potential! Every day was fulfilling. I had so much to get out and I watched people’s lives change right in front of me.

But now, I struggle with the feeling that maybe I’ve given all I had to give? Maybe now I’m all used up and empty. Dried out. Do I have anything left to offer people?

I feel guilty for not reading as much lately as I should be. I know my growth is directly related to how much I’m reading. But the hunger I had the Summer before I wrote my book – the Summer I devoured sixteen other books on marriage, divorce and remarriage in four months – has waned….no, disappeared. And I don’t know why.

I don’t even know what I would want to learn about next.
And I don’t want to only keep reading and studying marriage and relationships, I want to be able to offer more than that. Plus, I feel like I’ve said everything I have to say about that, in my book.

…..Which still isn’t published.

And that is what makes me feel the most drained and dry.

I’ve passed all three goals and deadlines I gave myself to get it out. I thought surely I’d be passing it on the shelf at Barnes & Noble by now. But I’m stiiiilllll editing. Which is not exciting, or new, or life-giving. It sucks every ounce of energy and enthusiasm I have for my book right out of me.

It took me 3 months to write my book, and I’ve been editing for 9. And I’m not even done with the first round.

And after I get finished with that, I’ve got to learn everything there is to learn about self-publishing. To make sure I do it right and make the best choices.

I assumed writing a book was the hardest part about writing a book. And I assumed someone else would be taking care of all this other stuff. I just want it out, and in people’s hands, so I can be moving on. Progressing to the next step in this journey, in my ministry.

But it’s not. And I’m not. I’m stuck.

I used to hear and see God leading me and moving other people and things into place. But now I feel like He’s being silent, and I don’t know why.

Recently, I heard about the “500 years of silence” the Israelites experienced between the time the Messiah was prophesied to them and the birth of Jesus. 500 years. He didn’t speak another word to them directly, or through his prophets at all.

500…five-HUNDRED…Years.

Entire generations died, just waiting.

This is the stretch of time between where the Old Testament ends and the New Testament begins. (Random fun fact: Alexander the Great lived in that 500 year time span, which is why, he is a real person but not recorded in the Bible.)

Were these years of silence their own fault? Disobedience?

Or, was there a greater purpose to it?

Did God just stop caring about them?

Did God stop caring about me? Did I do something wrong?

I wrote this in December 2015, but hadn’t published it yet because I didn’t have answers to these questions – I didn’t even know what all questions to ask – and it was scary and confusing. I have answers now. Lots of them. Not all of them, but lots of them.

And I’ll be sharing them with you soon.

Stay tuned.

In the meantime, have you ever felt like you were in a dry season? Are you in one now? How long did it last?