Category Archives: Blog

The View From My Comfort

I’ve been sitting here looking out my window and thinking how pretty it looks out there. Everything is green, the skies are clear, and there’s a slight breeze that moves the leaves on the tree in the prettiest way. But I live in Texas and this is July, so I know the truth. Outside of my air-conditioned comfort zone it is hot and muggy, and within minutes I will want to go back inside, because the view of something and the experience of that same thing are often very different.

From my window, I can see the homes of my neighbors and it looks like most streets in middle-class suburbia. But the reality is that behind the walls of the majority of those homes, there is suffering taking place. Illness. Broken relationships. Financial stress. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. For all of us, what is seen on the outside rarely reveals what is on the inside.

As these thoughts creeped in, I thought of what we see when our view is of Jesus, through the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

The man with leprosy (Mark 1:40–45). The paralytic lowered through the roof (Mark 2:1–12). The woman with the issue of blood (Mark 5:25–34). Jairus (synagogue leader) and his daughter (Mark 5:21–43). The Gadarene demoniac (Mark 5:1–20). The centurion (and his servant) (Matthew 8:5–13). The blind men (including Bartimaeus) (Mark 10:46–52). The ten lepers (Luke 17:11–19). The widow of Nain (Luke 7:11–17). The crippled woman in the synagogue (Luke 13:10–17).

In all of these, Jesus viewed no suffering from a distance or from a place of comfort. He didn’t send up thoughts or prayers, or put a check in the mail. Instead, He touched the suffering, wept with them, spoke to them and comforted them face to face.

And one day He said this to His disciples – “If anyone serves Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there My servant will be also.” (John 12:26)

We all live in places where there is suffering, and it isn’t limited to the poor or the homeless. In this fallen world suffering comes to both the sick and the poor and the healthy and the wealty. It is no repecter of persons, and we live among them all, carrying His presence with us.

The question is, are we looking at them from our places of comfort, or from our willingness to reach out and touch them? To get face to face with them, sit in it with them, weep with them, share the love of the Father with them?

This is what makes us followers of Christ. This is what makes us missionaries. Not that we went across the world, but that we touched the suffering around us with the love, compassion, and power of Jesus.

Jesus didn’t have these encounters every day. Many times we read of Him sitting in a boat or in the synagogue, teaching. Sometimes He was just with His disciples and sometimes He went off on His own to be with His Father in prayer. All of this was the ministry of the Messiah, and as He went, He encountered the suffering of humanity and He touched it.

When you think of the scriptures and how they describe Jesus, what word comes to mind? For me, it’s compassion. He was filled with compassion, moved with compassion, and acted out of compassion. He showed compassion far more than He showed empathy. The difference is empathy feels, compassion acts.

We are called to serve Him by following Him. If we are going to do that, we cannot continue to just have a view of the world from our place of comfort.

Father, move us from our complacency, from our love of comfort. Give us the heart to desire to touch those who are suffering around us. Give us compassion more than empathy. I pray that You will make my own comfort zone uncomfortable, and that You will give me face to face encounters with those around me who need Your love and compassion.

I Feel Old. And Weird. And Hopeful.

No forethought, really, just letting my fingers type my thoughts.

For awhile I couldn’t really tell that I was getting old, unless I consulted my physical body, which always seemed delighted to tell me the truth about my lost youth. My body and I are no longer on speaking terms.

But now. I don’t know. I feel it deeper than just physically.

When I look at the world around me and what has happened just over the last decade or so, I feel like someone from another time, finding myself in a world that has shape shifted into something I don’t recognize.

Strange people protesting strange things.

Everywhere I look someone is offended at someone or something.

Why does who I voted for offend you? I mean, when did that become a thing?

How can it be a debate that we don’t let children decide their gender?

How does it take legislation to prevent doctors from mutilating a child’s body for the sake of a delusion that is actually a mental illness?

How are we a society that now fights to keep parents from having the authority to not go along with their child’s desire to be something that, genetically, they are not and odds are they won’t desire in a few years?

I mean, when did we, as a culture, start going after the children – the ones who need our protection the most? I know it’s always been a thing, evil targeting kids, but when did it become something that people are ok publically fighting for rather than against? How did that even happen? When did America lose its mind?

When did we start applauding violence toward people and their property simply because they don’t agree with us? And oh my gosh, when and how did it become ok to spit in the face of anyone, much less a police officer? When did our respect for all authority get flushed down a toilet? I understand that corruption exists, and it makes us angry, and I am all for the right and responsiblity to protest corruption and injustice. But what’s happening right now feels different. Demonic. Lawless. Complete and utter rebellion, and a society that accepts it and even applauds it.

How on earth did we get here?

I feel the oldness now. Not just in my body, but in my soul. Like I slept too long and woke up in a foreign place. Unable to find my way around, because nothing is familiar. It feels like a tsmanami that just keeps coming, destroying everything with a darkness that is palpable.

But yes. I know the ending. I know God remains enthroned above the circle of the earth and He raises nations and kings and He brings them down and all of this must take place before the end comes and Jesus returns in glory.

Honestly, if I didn’t know all that, there are days when I don’t think I would have any desire to continue living on this earth. Thankfully, I do know all that.

But still the thoughts come. The grieving comes. Because my grandchildren are growing up in this world that has gone awry. In a world where truth is subjective and morality isn’t really a thing and people are buck naked crazy but everyone pretends they aren’t.

It makes me feel not just old, but almost helpless. Except.

I know the One enthroned. He inclines His ear to me. He moves me to prayer and to believe that my voice matters more in heaven than it does on earth. So I pray for the little ones who carry the future of this place that is so strange to me now.

I pray they will be awakened from the slumber that has come upon this land and its people, and that they will recognize truth from lie. That they will shake off offense and fear and the lure of the carnal, and choose to take up sword and shield and fight a spiritual battle that matters more than any other war being fought by men. That they will know the urgency of the gospel and that it is far more important than what a government is doing or not doing.

I pray for a generation of children to know the light, carry the light, and live in the light of Christ for the sake of a lost world. That they will have the spiritual maturity, even at a young age, to resist the pull of this world and keep their feet firmly planted on the Word of God. I pray for rescuers, not to rescue a country, but to rescue souls from eternal darkness.

I may feel old, but in my spirit there remains a hope that still feels young. Fresh. Alive. I am learning to embrace both. To be ok with weirdness and with the passing of time, as I remain full of hope and full of prayer.

Thanks for listening. Maybe you feel some of these things as well? Maybe you disagree with every word of it, except the part that I may be weird. That’s ok. You are entitled to your opinion, and I’m not offended by it. See how easy that is?

Tent Pegs

We raised our kids in Illinois. After years of apartments, we finally bought a home. We both had jobs, we had a church home, our kids had friends and school. The relationship dynamics in our family were a trainwreck on fire, but there we were, firmly planted.

Then my husband lost his job. He worked off and on, trying to find a steady job in an unsteady job market.

Then my son left for college in Texas. A couple of years later his sister joined him in Texas and my nest was empty and that was that.

In 2008 the housing market crashed with a bang.

Then, I suddenly lost my job that I had been at for 8 years, due to a missed deadline. Total fluke. Total confusion as to why I would be let go.

Now we had no income except unemployment, and a mortgage that was now upside down, meaning we owed more than we could have gotten for the house if we sold it, because of the crash.

Tent pegs. This was the picture God was giving me. A large tent held in place by firmly planted tent pegs, and now, one by one, those pegs were snapping out of the ground. Why? Because it was time for us to move and we weren’t going to move as long as the things we trusted in were holding our tent up.

God had begun to plant the seed that He was calling us to move, but we kept brushing it off. We had jobs, a home, deep roots right where we were, so it would be foolish to just pack up and move. We weren’t young and carefree anymore. We had stuff.

So one by one, the tent pegs snapped. And then one day we had packed what we hadn’t sold off into a u-haul truck and set out for Texas. No jobs, no community, just faith that God was calling us there and would take care of us.

This July will be 13 years since the day we pulled into Waco, and so much has happened since then. Kids married, grandkids have come, kids have moved away, we’ve finally bought another home, and here we are. And I find myself asking God, what are our tent pegs now, in this season of our lives, and are they keeping us from what You have for us?

Tent pegs. They hold the tent in place, but more significantly, they are what we trust to hold the tent in place.

They become our reasons, then our excuses, for staying in a place, even a place that has become unhealthy or barren. Because change is hard and scary and we’re a cautious, even nervous, people.

A house. A job. Friends. Family. A church. Provision. A place in the community. A ministry. Deeply rooted tent pegs. Things we trust in to keep our world spinning in familiar directions at a familiar pace. Things we can’t imagine leaving because they offer us comfort, purpose, belonging, and safety.

Tent pegs are good, until they become our excuse to stay when God may be calling us to go.

So what are your tent pegs? What holds you here, wherever here is? What would your reasons be for not dropping your nets, or selling all you have and giving it to the poor, or getting in the boat? Leaving that job, that town, that state, or that church? I’m not talking about irresponsibly leaving on a whim. We’re all grownups here and we know that’s not how it works. I’m talking about hearing or sensing the call of God to pull up stakes and follow Him into something new, even if it’s scary. Even if we can’t figure out how it would work. Even if we don’t understand it, and can’t control it. Gasp.

He sends us. Leads us to new places to work, to minister, to live and to reflect His image. The question is would we go? Or would we assume that it wasn’t God calling us because why would He take us from this place where we have invested and worked and ministered? Why would He take us from our land of provision, ministry, community, and maybe even family? Why would He call us into something, and then call us out of it?

Maybe…

– Because He has plans we know nothing of, sees what we can’t possibly see and knows what we can’t possibly know.

– Because we gave our life to Him and called Him Lord and said we would follow Him.

– Because He has no need to be concerned that we won’t find another job or a place to live or any other thing we need. He knows what He can do, and He asks us to trust what He can do.

What are your tent pegs? Are they keeping you from following God to the next place?

Naked & Ashamed

I was sitting at a table lost in thought, minding my own business, when a woman walked by right as I looked up from my bible. Her body language, the hair she used to obscure her face, the sweater pulled around her, I noticed all of it in a nano second as the Holy Spirit whispered “she is ashamed and afraid of being exposed.” And that began thirty minutes of playing connect the dots until what God wanted me to see began to emerge. So hang with me and I’ll see if I can re-connect them here.

Shame…

  • Genesis 2;25 – “Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.”
  • Genesis 3:7 – “Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.”

Sin had opened their eyes to their nakedness. They had always been naked, but they had neither the realization of nakedness, nor the shame of it. This was now the condition of their disobedience. Naked and ashamed.

  • Daniel 12:1-2 – “At that time Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will arise. There will be a time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. But at that time your people—everyone whose name is found written in the book—will be delivered. Multitudes who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake: some to everlasting life, others to shame and everlasting contempt.”

Shame will be the condition of every person who is bound for an eternity without God (hell), because the condition of Adam & Eve’s disobedience now follows their children.

  • Romans 10:11 – “If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved. As Scripture says, “Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame.”

Shame wants us to hide, not just ourselves, but hide our sin.

So I speak to the Beloved, to the children of God – shame has no part in you. Guilt, ok. Conviction, absolutely. These things will move us toward God, toward repentance.

  • 1 John 1:9 – “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”
  • James 5:19: “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.”

Confession is a weapon against the feeling of shame. It isn’t easy by any means. Hard stuff to come out of hiding and let our sin be exposed, but that is where the cleansing comes, where we find healing.

There just isn’t any other way but His way, and everything is so much better His way.

Naked…

  • Zechariah 3:4 – “Now Joshua was dressed in filthy clothes as he stood before the angel. The angel said to those who were standing before him, “Take off his filthy clothes.” Then he said to Joshua, “See, I have taken away your sin, and I will put fine garments on you.”
  • Galatians 3:26-27 – “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.”
  • Revelation 7:9 – “After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands.”

So to the one who is head down, face covered, trying to disappear in your shame – Jesus covers you. Clothes you with clean garments, robes of His righteousness; in fact, you are clothed with Him.

  • Isaiah 1:18 – “Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”

He has not left you naked and ashamed, He has made you covered and forgiven. Walk in the truth, my friend.

You Are The Witness He Left

Mark 5:17-19

Then the people began to plead with Jesus to leave their region. As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with him.  Jesus did not let him, but said, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.

Go. Tell people.

The woman at the well. She went. She told people. “Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people,  “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did.” John 4:28-29) 

When Jesus left this earth He gave His last command to His disciples – “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28:19)

Go. Tell people.

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

Jesus leaves witnesses, and those witnesses have a story to tell.

“As for us, we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.” (Peter and John – Acts 4:20)

This is what I know: we are the witnesses of our generation, our time on this earth. We are the ones who are to go, to tell someone. I also know that when I do that, it’s like a B12 shot to my soul. Gratitude and joy come rushing in at the retelling of God’s goodness in my life, whether it was many years ago, or yesterday. It stirs the waters of faith that have become stagnant – in me, and in those who are hearing my witness.

This is what I don’t know: Are we the Peters and the Johns of our time, who are compelled to speak of what we’ve seen and what we’ve heard? Are we stirring faith and tapping wells of gratitude because we are witnesses of the goodness, the power, and the faithfulness of God? Are we going and are we telling anyone at all what God has done right in front of us and in us?

Or have we found a comfortable spot in our religion that allows us to curl up and be theologically sound, but not theologically active? Are we observers more than we are witnesses? Do we see the joy in others and wonder why we can’t find it in us? Do we summon up the acceptable gratitude of “thank You for this food”, but we have lost that thing in us that weeps at the knowledge that God rescued us from eternal death and gave us abundent life? Or that He healed our heart in ways we didn’t even know it needed to be healed? There’s been financial provision, healing, doors opened and doors closed, prophetic words given, relationships restored, sin overcome, strength when there was none, comfort when it was needed, and the small, still voice of God even when we weren’t listening for it. So many ways that God has been with us and for us – years ago and yesterday.

We are the witnesses that He has left for our day, in our generation. Where are we going and what are we telling?

If you’d like a place to start, start here! Leave a comment and witness to something God has done or spoken in your life.

I’ll go first. Over the past year I have sensed a fire in me growing stronger, and an increased desire to join God in whatever He is doing around me. Little by little He has been showing me doors that He is opening for me to walk through. At work, a small group of us are now meeting every week(ish) to talk through the Word of God, and grow in unity and compassion for one another. He also opened the door for me to volunteer as part of the Discipleship Training School staff at my church. As I have prayed for God to stir in me, to move in my life, to lead me to where He wants me, I have watched Him answer that prayer, and as I recall it and speak of it, joy is welling up! I serve a God who speaks, who hears, and who moves in me, through me, and for me!

Go. Tell someone.

The Fig Tree and the Church

Matthew 21

“Early in the morning, as Jesus was on his way back to the city, he was hungry. Seeing a fig tree by the road, he went up to it but found nothing on it except leaves. Then he said to it, “May you never bear fruit again!”  Immediately the tree withered.”

He cursed the fig tree and I found that curious. But He and His disciples moved on, so I went with them and left that figless tree standing there, cursed and withered.

A few days ago I came across it again and this time I studied it. Squinted long and hard until my vision cleared and now I have to get the words out before they drift away.

The fig tree had leaves, and from a distance it looked like it was a good tree. But when Jesus moved closer to the tree, it became apparent that the tree had no fruit. No figs on the fig tree is no bueno. But why?

Leaves on a fig tree appear with the fruit, or shortly after the fruit. If the tree has leaves, it should have fruit. So the tree had the appearance of bearing fruit from a distance, but there was no fruit. And that is what preaches in this story.

In John, chapter 15, Jesus told His disciples that every fruit bearing branch would be pruned, but branches that did not bear fruit would be cut off. He also told them that bearing much fruit would glorify God and prove they were His disciples. And finally, He said He had chosen and appointed them to bear fruit that would last.

Our fruit bearing is connected to our prayer lives, to God’s glory, and to the authenticity of our relationship with Him. I dare say, fruit matters.

But I keep coming back to one thing: the fig tree had the appearance of bearing fruit, because it had the leaves. But when Jesus drew near, fruitlessness was obvious. Nothing can hide from Him.

And now there are questions scrambling around in me.

What are the leaves that give the appearance that I am bearing fruit? The things that make me look good, but aren’t bearing anything of value? What glorifies me from a distance, but doesn’t actually glorify God?

But it isn’t just me. It’s all of us. The local church that makes up the global Church. Can we ask the same questions as a congregation? Are there leaves, but no fruit? Are we busy doing things that have no impact for the Kingdom? Do we look the part, but Lord help us if Jesus comes near?

The fig tree is but one of a number of lessons Jesus taught regarding outward appearance with no inward substance. In one in particular, He didn’t speak in a parable, didn’t use a word picture. He said what He said.

Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’ (Matthew 7:22-23)

Pleanty of leaves, but no fruit.

Father, forgive us. Have mercy on us. Heal us.

Random Thoughts

They come in the middle of the night when I’m awakened by either God or my bladder. Hard to tell which it is sometimes. The thoughts trickle in while I drive, while I work, when I’m knee deep in the gospels, and while I’m cooking dinner (admittedly, a rare event). Thoughts, whole and unfinished they come. Like a dripping faucet of Holy Spirit whispers that I hold close, not quite sure what to do with them. Some are the questions of my own ever searching heart. All of it feels like the hands of the Potter, shaping and re-shaping, molding, and smoothing my rough edges.

make your life a sacrifice. the whole life, not just the parts you don’t mind giving up. in order for it to be a sacrifice, you have to give what you’d rather keep. the best, the most, the prized, the coveted. all belongs on the altar.

big picture – make disciples. the church, working as one to reach the lost. global purpose, global pursuit. but it’s the smaller picture that pushes me back and pulls me in close at the same time. the picture of letting Christ be formed in me, not through performance but through bending my knee again and again. and again. big picture, little picture. He is saving the world and He is saving me. glory.

This earth offers two things: light and momentery afflictions, and light and momentary pleasures. we chase the pleasures and hope to avoid the afflictions but the pleasures do us no good. no room for growth, no reason to change, no faith required. it’s the afflictions that matter the most, because they form Jesus in us. push us to seek Him out, lean into Him, fall at His feet.

we should rather have momentary afflictions and eternal pleasure, than momentary pleasure and eternal affliction.

if you understood the grace that is yours, you would live differently. you just would.

matthew 14:17. “we only have…”. the cry of us all. i only have a little. i only have this much, that much, not much. when will i understand that it doesn’t matter how much i have, it matters what God will make of what i have? who might He feed with my little lunch?

you can’t give someone what they are meant to get from Jesus.

Jesus is heaven’s response to sin. every time.

what the church has built for herself, will come down. I will find My remnant.

Jesus, You fascinate me.

how am I living as though God is not in control?

God does not have dreams. He has unchanging plans and purposes, and they are good.

we need to stop telling people to chase their dreams and start telling them to chase the heart of Jesus.

no one comes to the Father except through Jesus. our destination is a person, not a place.

discipleship isn’t making people look like us. it’s helping people look like Jesus.

Mark 1:23. demons knew who Jesus was, and what He could do. what do demons know and believe that i don’t?

the devil lied, but Eve engaged the lie. how have i been engaging the lies the enemy is telling?

Matthew 14:14. He had compassion on them and healed their sick. not because they asked the right way, or because they had enough faith, or because they did all the right things. they were healed because He had compassion. no other reason.

Jesus, offend the religious spirit in the church. and in me.

i am as in need of Jesus today as i was the first day i met Him.

what has following Jesus cost me?

every need i have is met in Jesus.

marriage is a good thing, but it is not the better thing (Luke 10:42). glory days are good, but they are not the better thing. success is a good thing, but it is not the better thing. i fear we are making idols out of good things because we forget there is a better thing. or is it that, honestly, we value the good thing more than the better thing?

Jesus never changed course or softened His message because people were being offended.

can we just talk more about what God is doing than what we’re doing? goodness, let’s talk about Jesus more, in and out of the church.

Random thoughts that push at the edges of my mind until i write them down. Thoughts that turn into conversations with the Holy Spirit and then into something in me moving out of His way, making room for more of Him and less of me.

Don’t ignore the random thoughts.