Author Archives: Karla Jo Wasion

I love Jesus and His Church. His Word is Truth, His heart is good, and His return is sure.

this is how we fight our battles

That cancer thing tho, right? Beastly is what it is. I bet you know someone who’s fighting it. We could stand on a busy street and point in any direction and find someone who is doing battle with the cancer Goliath on some level. Maybe that someone is you. Can I say it sucks? I think I can (my blog and all). And I’ve had cancer, so lemme just tell you that sucks is the right word. I was lucky. My cancer was found very early and a hysterectomy took it down. No chemo, no radiation. But the battle was still there, because fear was still there. And ain’t that just a fight and half when the diagnosis comes? Yeah, it is.

Right now, I have a friend who is in the thick of battle with a very aggressive breast cancer. She’s a Jesus loving gem of a girl. Wife. Mother to 3 very young kids.

Everyone’s fighting stance looks different. But one thing is certain – worship is a vital position for us to take during any battle. Worship is an incredible weapon, and I can attest to its power to bring fear to its knees and make faith the biggest giant in the room.

Heidi posted something to the Caring Bridge site that I think will bless you, even if you aren’t in a cancer war at the moment (because everyone is fighting some kind of battle, right?). I got her permission to reprint it here for you:

Surrounded

Journal entry by Heidi Wenzel — Mar 5, 2019

“Another round of chemo tomorrow. It always has me getting ready. Gearing up. Ready to face another round of battle.
But our family has a particular way that we fight our battles. And Jon and I have tried to cultivate a particular family culture in our home. Through good times and bad. If not every day, at least every week. We worship. At home. With the kids. We put the music on loud and we sing and we dance and we run and we twirl and we bow with our faces to the hardwood floor and we leap and we clap and we worship the King of Kings.

And we believe. We believe that our worship impacts the King, the kingdom, and our very own circumstances. We believe that it blesses our hearts, changes our perspective, and powerfully affects our circumstances. And in this particular season we believe our praise and worship defeats cancer. 
Would you dare to worship with us? Believe that our worship could conquer this enemy. This cancer.
This would not even be close to the first time that the worshipping is a catalyst for the conquering. One of my favorite Old Testament stories is found in 2 Chronicles 20 about a king named Jehoshaphat and a battle with vast armies from neighboring countries. A battle. A battle won by praise and shouts, not by weapons and strength. A battle that this leader was wise enough to recognize was not his, but the Lord’s.

It’s so worth reading the account for yourself, but here’s the summary. King Jehoshaphat receives a report that multiple armies are on their way to conquer them. The first thing this king does is call a fast and all the people inquire of the Lord as to what they should do. All of the people. One of my favorite verses of the story vs. 13, “All the men of Judah, with their wives and children and little ones. Stood there before the Lord.” That’s right, the little ones too. Our little ones are with us, looking to the Lord, seeing how He will answer, what He will do. Anyway, a prophet stands up and declares to the whole assembly, “Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s.” (Verse 15) He says the Lord is going to deliver them, they don’t have to be afraid, they just need to stand firm and watch the Lord gain the victory for them!
So then the king goes on and does something so incredible. So significant. So counterintuitive. He prepares his forces by sending out the worshippers as the front line. First. He calls to his people to have faith, and acts out his own faith by not sending out the greatest fighters or the biggest weapons, but rather believing what God has said and sending out the singers. The worshippers. “Jehoshaphat appointed men to sing to the Lord and to praise him for the splendor of his holiness as they went out AT THE HEAD of the army saying: ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for his love endures forever.” And just as the Lord had said, the people of Judah watched the Lord give them the victory. God himself set ambushes on the armies and they literally ended up killing and destroying each other rather than Judah.
Worship and victory.

Would you be so bold as to worship with us? Not just pray, but worship with us. Worship in the midst of a cancer diagnosis. Worship through a hard season of chemo. Worship as the army surrounds and invades. Worship as the waters rise and the fire surrounds. Worship as even the waves crash over us. Would you worship with us? It’s what we are doing. It’s what we have chosen to do. Give him our praise. Give him our worship. “

If you want to read their story, pray for them, or just follow along on their journey – here is the link to Heidi’s Caring Bridge site:

https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/heidiwenzel

what God does with barren

Can I speak to the barren feeling people for a minute? For many of you, it’s not a barren womb, but a barren season that holds your pain. You long for something good to come from the hard and painful places you’ve been living in, but your heart just can’t see it. I can speak to that. I’ve lived with that feeling. I’m talking to the ones looking around for any sign of something growing, those who have come to believe there will be little, if any, fruit from this season. I want to whisper right into the ear of the one who feels empty and unproductive, like something has died (and very well may have) –

God does amazing things in barren places.

Isaac. Jacob. Joseph. Samson. Samuel. John the Baptist. The common thread that runs through each of their stories? Their mothers were barren. Childless.

Isaac. His barren mother was 90. Daddy Abraham was 100.
Isaac. The son of promise. Second patriarch of the Israelites. He grandfathered the twelve tribes of Israel.

Jacob. His mom, Rebekah had been barren for about 20 years when God answered her husband, Isaac’s prayer. Jacob. Third patriarch of the Israelites. Third person in the line of God’s covenant with Abraham. He fathered the twelve tribes of Israel.

Joseph’s mom was Rachel, one of Jacob’s two wives, and she too was barren until God stepped in. Joseph. Sold into slavery as a boy, and became the second most powerful man in Egypt.

Samson. While mother is not named, her barrenness is. Named by an angel who said to her, “You are barren and childless, but you are going to become pregnant and give birth to a son. Samson. Mighty warrior, and one of the twelve leaders who judged Israel.

Samuel. Hannah’s womb was shut by God, and then opened by Him so that Hannah could have the child for which she so fervently prayed. Samuel. Israel’s first prophet and king-maker. He anointed Israel’s first king.

John the Baptist. His mother, Elizabeth was “very old”, and unable to conceive. John the Baptist. Truth speaker. Baptizer.
Forerunner of Jesus.

This was all God, making greatness come from barrenness. That’s His way, you know. He leaves the possible to mortals, while He pulls glory from impossible places.

This is what I believe: In the midst of our most barren places, God is making a way for life.

Is there anyplace more barren than death itself? And yet, He has given us His Word that He brings dead back to life.

  • Two of God’s prophets, Elijah and Elisha each brought women’s sons back to life.
  • A dead man was thrown into Elisha’s tomb and came back to life.
  • At a funeral procession for a widow’s only son, Jesus brought him back to life for her.
  • Jairus, a Jewish leader’s, daughter died. Jesus raised her from the dead.
  • Lazarus, brother to Mary & Martha, died and was buried for 4 days when Jesus called him out of his grave.
  • Jesus. Crucified, dead and buried. Risen to new life after 3 days.

For the love of sinners, God brought forth a Savior from the womb of a virgin, had Him die our death, and then brought Him out of the grave so that we too could be raised to life.

When we were dead in our sins, living the most barren of lives, God gave us our first real breath through Christ.

Because…

From barren places, God brings life.

In our barrenness, God is faithful. Do you believe this?

Genesis 17; Genesis 25:21; Genesis 30:22; Judges 13:2; 1Samuel 1:1; Luke 1:18-23; 1Kings 17:17-24; 2Kings 4:18-37; 2Kings 13:20-21; Luke 7:11-17; Luke 8:49-56; John 11:1-44;

carpe diem, church

This past Tuesday at Lifegroup we did a little digging in that first chapter of Acts.

“While He was together with them, He commanded them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait for the Father’s promise…
So when they had come together, they asked Him, “Lord, are You restoring the kingdom to Israel at this time?”” – Acts 1:4-6

World changers. Miracle workers. Birthers of the Church. But they didn’t have a full understanding of what this whole thing was all about. After three years of life on life with Jesus, they still didn’t get the big picture. They thought one thing, while He was planning something else. Story of my life. Anyone else?

God isn’t intimidated by what we don’t know, or by the smallness of the picture we can see. He still sends us out.

“He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or periods that the Father has set by His own authority.” – Acts 1:7

But inquiring minds have always wanted to know so they built an information highway and now we have literally trillions of bits of things we can know. But we still don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I believe our not knowing and therefore not controlling is at the root of our rampant anxiety. I also believe that our freedom begins with the truth – 

There are things that are not for us to know. As Christ followers, our need to know what’s coming and when it’s coming must take a knee.

Only God has the authority to set the times of our lives.  Not luck or fate or the universe or the government or our employer or that internet prophet guy and certainly not the devil. Take heart Church, our times are in God’s hands.

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come on you, and you will be My witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” – Acts 1:8

I can tell people my testimony without the power of the Holy Spirit. So can you. That isn’t the “witness” that Jesus was talking about in this statement. 

The Greek word for “witness” = martys. It’s where martyr comes from. But it has other meanings. In this verse it means “ those whose lives and actions testified to the worth and effect of faith…”

You can tell people you’re a Christian and what God has done for you all day long but if your life doesn’t speak of the value of faith, then you are not His witness. Speaking words doesn’t take the power of the Holy Spirit, but turning those words into the way you live your life does. Jesus gave us the power of His Spirit to enable us to live a life of witness, not just speak words that testify. 

If we say we are a man or woman of faith, but we live in fear of tomorrow, we are not His witnesses. If every bump or wave that hits us sends us into anxiety or “fix-it” mode, we are not His witnesses.

If we say we are a man or woman of faith while we tend to our collection of idols of money, fame, attention, approval, escape, and comfort and fill-in-your-blank,  we are not His witnesses.

And we should not wonder why there is no power in our lives.

We cannot live by both fear and faith. We cannot build both our own kingdoms and the Kingdom of God. We cannot live sacrificially while indulging our flesh. We cannot lay down our lives and love them too. 

The Church cannot live a double life, and have the power of the Holy Spirit to be His witnesses.

Those 4 verses were the last words Jesus spoke to them on this earth. Of everything He could have said to them, He chose to promise them the Holy Spirit so that they could be His witnesses. He chose to tell them He would give them the power to have lives that match their words. Lives that testify to the value of faith in Christ. 

Honestly? The Church should be waiting in the upper room today, waiting for our turn to be filled with the power to be His witnesses. And by the Church, I mean me. And I mean you. Not them. Us. Because we are the Church, you and I. We are the ones who need to have those last words of Jesus ringing in our ears. 

We are the ones today. Yesterday was theirs, and tomorrow will be for others. But this is our time to be filled with the Spirit of God and be His witnesses in all the earth. Today is our day. 

Carpe Diem, Church.

 

 

to the end of the days

It’s a new year. The proverbial page has turned and 365 more days lay stretched out before us like a blank canvas begging for the touch of a brush. But I can’t begin yet. I have to turn that page back and look at what it meant to live the days before this one.

Because, you know. I’m always looking for God.

I need to know He was there. I have to see the marks left by His hand in my life. I will, inevitably, face forward, leave what is behind and reach for what lies ahead. But first, I need to sit down and look at the picture and see what God was doing on the canvas in 2018.

This year, I allowed someone to make me feel incompetent. In the face of what felt like continual criticism, I gave in to the belief that I do not have what it takes to do what is actually a very simple job. And one day it became too much, and I cried. A lot. Like, all day.

But God. He told me to get up. To stop crying. And to stop giving someone power they don’t own. Stop giving anyone permission to change my truth. Stop letting someone else, with issues that can be seen from a mile away, determine my confidence level, my self-worth.

So I got up, and I kept going. When everything in me wanted (and still wants) to leave, I’m going back. I will go until God tells me not to go. I will stay on the mission until the mission changes.

This year God taught me that you don’t walk away from the mission field just because someone made you cry.

And then they told me I’m not pretty enough. Oh goodness, not in those words. But in other words that were just as pointy, just as stabby and humiliating. But I didn’t cry. (maybe a little in my car on the way home. just a little.) Because this time I recognized the hand held out to receive power that isn’t theirs. The power to make me believe that my value is in my outward appearance. The power to reduce me to an image, to a first impression. The power to make me feel that my looks matter more than my kindness, more than my compassion.

And God. This time, He told me not to wrestle with someone else’s devil. So I didn’t. I kept my head up. I allowed myself to feel beautiful in my own skin. And I embraced the truth that kindness and compassion are the heart of God that beats within me and that is no small thing and it leaves a far deeper impression than an extra layer of makeup will ever leave.

This year God taught me to stop giving people power that doesn’t belong to them.

(And that some people have devils that aren’t mine to wrestle.)

There was a season this year of letting my flesh run the show. That was ugly. I became a complainer, a gossiper. I was discontent and angry and indignant and I didn’t care who knew it. Like a sickness, it started slow and then suddenly my character had malaria. And then (finally) God brought a heap of fiery conviction on me that had me repenting my guts out and oddly enough, I was so very thankful. I was a child who desperately needed to be disciplined before I really brought harm to myself and others.

This year God rescued me from myself, yet again.

I have no idea what 2019 holds. None of us do. But I know that 2018 strengthened me in ways I would not have chosen. It forced me to choose truth over lies, for real. It brought me over and over again to a choice – listen to my flesh, and to the voices of others, and flee the hard place, or obey what I knew deep down God was saying. Stay in the hard. Stay in the painful. Stay in the place that makes me want to run.

Our instinct is to want out, to think that surely this cannot be our portion. But this year, I learned that God always has purpose in hard places, and my portion is Him, not a life without hard.

As I stand back and survey the canvas of 2018, painted over all of the hard is the same word that I have seen every year.

Faithful.

God never stood back from me. Never watched from a distance. Even when I think I have to run to Him, I don’t. All I have to do is turn. Reach out for Him. He’s there. Saying ‘get up’. Teaching me who I am even after all these years of being me. Showing me that His purpose, not what someone else thinks of me, is the priority.

My story isn’t your story. God’s brush strokes on my days will look different than on yours. But I know that the last 365 days of your life were not without God in them, regardless of how it feels. His faithfulness was there.

And so it will be for the next days. All of them. Hard ones and easy. Painful days and the ones where the lovin’ is easy and the air is sweet. Nothing changes Him.

Faithful. To the end of the days.

i remember – my soul longs for You

See, there is this yearning on its way. It comes in answer to prayer. A yearning for the more, the deeper, the overwhelmed by God. To long for Him. The wake me up in the middle of the night to speak with me kind of thing. The get out of my way I’m going to meet with Jesus thing that I can’t explain any better than that. That’s my yearning and it’s here, like waves hitting the shores — strong one minute and then it recedes, only to return bigger and stronger.

I asked for this yearning and I feel the urgency to grab it and live in it. Put it on like a robe and allow myself to simply long for more of Jesus everywhere I am.

In the morning, I want to have to extricate myself from His presence so I can go to work. I want to feel the pull and I want it to be strong. I want it to be hard to leave the Word of God, to leave our conversation, you know? 

At work, I want this longing to be the background in every conversation, every task. I’m sick to death of longing for lunchtime, or 5:00, or Friday or some thing. Silly longings that have no meaning except to a flesh soothed by silly things. 

I want to choose Him over my television, over social media, over myself, every single time. I want to wake in the night and seek His voice and have whispered talks with Him until I fall back to sleep.

I want to prefer time with Jesus more than anything else, and right now – I do not. Right now I enjoy being with Him, but my soul has not been yearning for Him. Longing to be with Him. But it’s coming. The waves are hitting the shore of my soul like I knew they would. Because I asked. I asked Him to call me back again to the longing place. 

I have been in His Word in preparation for leading others – in bible studies, in Lifegroup (small group), or in public speaking. But it’s been too long since I’ve come to His Word just to be with Him. Too much to do, for underlining and scribbling notes in the margins. No time for lingering, for the slow turn of pages waiting for Him to speak. Because He takes His time you know. He’s in no hurry. He’s not like me.

But this morning I came, in no rush. Nowhere else to be. I came and I opened a battered, torn, book where I have always found Him waiting for me. In familiar pages I breathed in and caught His breath and I remembered.

I remembered that I love Him and I miss Him and that He feels the same way about me.

I remembered that there is nothing on earth that comes close to soothing my soul like time spent with Him here, in slow turning pages worn from seasons of longing. 

I remembered that I learned the sound of His voice here in this book. I learned who He is here and who I am and that I haven’t learned it all.

I remembered that this is where I sit at the feet of Jesus. It’s where I learned to pray and where I learned to worship. I remembered that this is where I found truth and learned my worth.

I remembered that the nearness of His presence found in these worn pages has no rival. 

And I remembered that being with Him makes me long to be with Him.

I pray you remember that your soul longs for Him.

Marriage Matters—It’s Subtraction

I was thinking about marriage the other day, as I was getting ready for work. It took a hot minute for me to realize God was present, directing the entire conversation I was having with myself. 

I pondered my young, selfish view of marriage so many years ago, and then how many people I see today who have that same view. Oh, it’s not a conscious attitude. If it were we would surely correct ourselves. It shows up in our words and actions, without ever making an appearance in our brain (so it would seem). 

It’s the idea that when we get married, we are adding a spouse to our life. 

And then we’ll just go on with all our dreams, with all our habits and ways – we’ll just have someone else joining us. 

We don’t really think that deep about things like how we’ll spend our money now, how we’ll spend our time. We go into marriage enamored with the idea of sharing our life with this other person. Our life. Not their life. 

{And let’s be honest, many of us don’t think past the relief that now, we won’t be alone. That’s really as far as we got in considering this marriage gig.}

We don’t count the cost of marriage. We don’t think about all the ways our lives will no longer be our own, or about the fact that we are going from independence to dependence. We don’t consider that our plans and our dreams and our passions will not be center stage anymore – there is someone else’s plans, dreams, and passions in the picture now. 

We don’t let it sink in that we aren’t adding someone to our life, we are dying to our old life to begin this new life. We’re giving up our right to do anything our own way anymore, our right to live independent, to spend ourselves on what we want. To chase our own dreams, pursue our own plans. Marriage is about two becoming one, moving as one, living as one.

“So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”  (Matthew 19:6)

Marriage is not addition, its subtraction.

When we get that and choose accordingly, our marriage will flourish. When we don’t, it will break.

And when I bent over to spit the toothpaste out, God bent down with me and whispered… 

That same view of marriage is permeating the Gospel today. 

God forgive us for allowing people to believe that they are adding You to their life. 

“Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” – Revelation 19:9

declarations

Hard week. A member of our lifegroup lost her 23-year-old son on Saturday. We are all a bit in shock, I think, but at the same time, our church community has gathered like an army around this family. It’s a beautiful picture to watch. If you think about it, lift up the Thomas family in prayer. They are living every parents’ worst fear.

At lifegroup last night I felt led to have us do some declaring. So after worship, we got down to it. With 3 pages of declarations in hand, we went around the table taking turns reading them. It got a little loud at times, lemme tell ya. These women de.clared some things! Vehemently. Passionately. Beautifully.

It left us wanting more.

I don’t know the mechanics of it. Can’t answer why. But I do know this – there is power in the room when truth is being declared. There is a fierce kind of faith that rises up when the scriptures are spoken over those in the room. When we declare the truth over ourselves and over our lives, lies begin to break.

{Because a lie from the enemy cannot withstand the sword of the Spirit.}

We will have ‘declaration nights’ more often. And hopefully, that will turn into declaration mornings for us individually. And declaration days. Until declaring truth is how we live life.