Category Archives: Blog

the f-word

aphiemi is our f-word. It means to send away, dismiss, set free.  It means to forgive.

So much has been said about forgiveness so I won’t go on and on. Probably. Maybe. We’ll see.

Here is what I have seen, what I am seeing, and what I myself have done:  searched the scriptures for a way out of forgiving someone, rather than for a way into it. Usually, our way out lies in a lack of repentance, or change, on the part of the person we need to forgive.  Most often the door out of forgiving is found in Luke 17:3-4.

“If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him. And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and comes back to you seven times, saying, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive him.” 

Ergo, if they don’t repent, we don’t have to forgive them. Two other places used as a way out of forgiveness are Colossians 3:13: “Just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you must also forgive.” and Ephesians 3:32 – “And be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving one another, just as God also forgave you in Christ.”

God’s forgiveness comes at our repentance, so we use repentance, or change, as our measuring stick of whether or not we have to forgive someone. So let’s just talk about that.

What if, in Luke 17, the point Jesus was making was not repentance, but forgiveness? What if He was addressing the heart of the forgiver, not the forgiven? What if He was saying “I don’t care how many times he does the same thing to you and keeps coming back and saying “sorry”…you cannot withhold forgiveness.”

I mean, what if someone coming back over and over again and repenting for the same sin isn’t really the definition of repentance, and therefore, repentance is not the criteria for forgiving someone seventy times seven?

So let’s throw Colossians and Ephesians up and see what sticks.

“Just as”. That’s what usually sticks. And so then we say God forgave us when we repented, so just as He did, we are to do. Ok, fair enough. Let’s talk about that.

What if we have no ability to offer anyone salvation and therefore, our forgiveness cannot be based on repentance? What if by “just as”, He was referring to any number of other things besides “when they repent”?

Like, completely. Fully. Unmerited. Forgiveness given when it is not even close to being deserved. Because that is how God has forgiven us in Christ, and it should make us out of our minds grateful. Not searching for a way not to give that same thing to others.

What if God was saying to us, “I so desired to forgive you that I sent my Son to die to make it happen”. What if forgiving as God forgave means looking for a way to forgive, rather than for a way not to forgive?

Well, what about repentance? What about it? First of all, those of us who are looking for a reason not to forgive, aren’t really looking for repentance. We want change. We are demanding to see the fruit of repentance before we forgive. Which is not the way that God has forgiven us. Not if we believe the gospel. What we really have to ask ourselves is not “did they repent”, but “what do we do with these scriptures”:

But if you don’t forgive people, your Father will not forgive your wrongdoing. – Matthew 6:15

And whenever you stand praying, if you have anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven will also forgive you your wrongdoing. – Mark 11:25

Shouldn’t those statements have us scrambling to find a way to forgive the people who have hurt us, rather than trying to find justification not to forgive them?

I know what it feels like to have to forgive someone who has done you great harm, and not owned up to it. I know how hard that is and how gut-wrenching the work of forgiveness can be.  I know that it feels like forgiveness is the same as saying they didn’t do what they did, or that what they did doesn’t matter. It feels like they are getting away with something. It feels unjust.

This has become one of the deepest truths I know:  forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling. If you are waiting to feel forgiving, stop it.  We have to stop trying to figure out what forgiveness feels like, and see what it looks like. Below is an excerpt from my book on the restoration of my marriage (the book is still in process):

It looks like never mentioning any of it ever again. No matter how mad I am. No matter how hurt I am. No matter how much I want to get back at him. I choose to let forgiven things remain forgiven.

It looks like not allowing my thoughts to turn over the rocks of the past, digging up the dirt of things buried in my forgiveness. In other words, I don’t think about the things I’ve forgiven. I just don’t. If those thoughts come in, I send them right back out. I choose to think of something else. I choose to start speaking Scripture about what is true about my husband. I choose to keep forgiving.

It looks like allowing my scars to be evidence of God’s healing instead of evidence of my wounding. Those scars didn’t all come from my husband. I had to forgive the person who molested me, the ex-husband who abused me, and [many others who have hurt me deeply throughout my life].

Forgiveness in my story looks like refusing to protect my own heart from pain. It’s staying vulnerable. It looks like trusting God.

It looks like remembering how very much I have been forgiven. It’s recognizing that what was done and what was said during those years were from a place of brokenness, and broken people do broken things and we are all broken at some point. You. Me. All of us have hurt people we love. Then we pull out our scales of justice and measure how much pain we’ve inflicted against how much pain we’ve been dealt and somehow, the scale always tips in our favor. I choose to throw away the scales of what justice looks like to me, because it is mercy and forgiveness I’ve been given by God, not justice.

If you are struggling with the f-word, then do what you know to do. Repent. Turn around. Go the other way. Look for a way into forgiveness instead of a way out of it.

I promised not to go on and on. Promise broken. Forgive me.

i can live with that – part two

That question. The observation of God designed to bring to the light what needed to be exposed.

What are you co-existing with that you should have driven out?

If you missed Part One of my journey with this question, you can read that here.

It’s easy to co-exist with something when you don’t know it is killing you. When you don’t recognize it as an enemy, it will go unnoticed, be seen as harmless. Until you discover it isn’t. Until God begins to shed light on what the enemy has been doing. Here are a few of my own observations — some from my own story, some not.

It is the enemy of peace. The enemy of boldness. The enemy of trust. But we’ve learned to live with it. We’ve figured out how to manage fearful living. We settle for moments of peace rather than hearts that carry peace. We’ve learned to calculate risks and then call ourselves risk-takers when we’ve taken a few small steps of courage into something unknown.

But we are told to count the cost (risk) of following Jesus before we commit to follow Him, not after.

For those who are in Christ, nothing is a risk anymore. Unless we have chosen to co-exist with fear.

But I think the worst part of learning to live with fear is that we live life primarily in the realm of what is possible. Because fear can barely believe for the possible, believing for the impossible is out of the question. It keeps us bound to what we can control and refuses to allow us to let go and be at peace with what we cannot control. And we’ve settled for that, rather than doing the work to banish fear from our land. We’ve settled for mostly medicating fear so that we can manage it, instead of refusing to allow it to live with us.

The enemy of spiritual growth. We can certainly grow in knowledge while being full of pride, but we will not grow in character because that requires humility. Pride will also either destroy or at least cripple, our earthly relationships. Let’s be honest, most of us, including the prideful among us, are repelled by prideful people.  Pride feeds on comparison. It keeps us constantly comparing ourselves to others, and then adjusting our lives according to what we see. We either take on arrogance, having determined that we are better than others, or we take on shame and defeat, believing we have fallen short. Either way…it is all about us rather than about Jesus. Pride is destructive to every inch of our land and keeps us in what has to be one of the most tormenting of bondages:  the bondage to self.

But perhaps most devasting is that pride is the enemy of humility, which makes it the enemy of the nearness of God, because God resists the proud, but draws near to the humble.

Pride will keep God off of our land. 

 

Apathy & Complacency

Apathy is a lack of enthusiasm, interest or concern. It lulls us to sleep. It convinces us that spiritual zeal is wacky, out there, and over the top. It allows us to attend church on Sunday, check off that box, and then go back to real life. Apathy keeps us nice and full on the things of this world so that we experience no hunger for the things of God.

Complacency is Apathy’s sibling. It is a smug satisfaction with ourselves or our achievements. It keeps us comfortable right where we are, with no motivation to change.  At the core, they are enemies of our relationship with Jesus. Both apathy and complacency allow us to have a comfortable, un-demanding, effortless Christianity, regardless of the fact that it is a life that cannot be found in scripture. Except in one place.

The Amen, the faithful and true Witness, the Originator of God’s creation says:  I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I am going to vomit you out of My mouth. – Revelation 3:14-16

Far too many Christians have chosen to live their lives in the lukewarm waters of apathy and complacency, thinking everything is just fine. It is not. We are living with the enemy of our soul.

And then, there was more.

All bitterness, anger and wrath, shouting and slander must be removed from you, along with all malice. – Ephesians 4:31

All anger. All wrath. Know the difference between those two?

[wrath] indicates a more agitated condition of the feelings, an outburst of wrath from inward indignation, while anger suggests a more settled or abiding condition of mind, frequently with a view to taking revenge. [Anger] is less sudden in its rise than [wrath], but more lasting in its nature. [Wrath] expresses more the inward feeling, [anger] the more active emotion. (Vine’s Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words)

Don’t miss this part:  anger suggests a more settled or abiding condition of mind

Anger is a mindset. 

Have you ever known someone who just seems angry all the time? Is that someone a parent? A spouse? A boss? If so, then you know the destruction that anger brings to relationships. To unity. To intimacy. To love and affection in the family. Anger keeps people on eggshells around you. It also forces them to keep a distance, if not physically then at least emotionally.

Oh, but get this.

 When Israel became stronger, they made the Canaanites serve as forced labor but never drove them out completely. — Judges 1:28 

Sometimes it is the thing that we believe is serving us that is the very thing we are supposed to get rid of.

My story includes deep anger. Anger that served me well because it protected me from emotional pain. So trust me when I say that I know how hard it is live without something that has served you. I can also attest to the fact that it was killing me and had a part in killing my marriage. I just didn’t know that when I allowed it to co-exist with me.

I didn’t know that my servant was my enemy.

But wait. There’s more.

So rid yourselves of all malice, all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and all slander. – 1Peter 2:1

Of all of these, the one that stands out the most, the one with which many choose to co-exist?

Pretense. Play-acting. Mask wearing. {Hypocrite is the Greek word for an actor in a play.}

We show the parts of ourselves and our lives we want others to see, and we hide the rest. We put on a show, making others believe that we have it all together, we’re happy, we’re successful, we’re religious, we’re — whatever it is we want them to think of us. But we put a mask over our insecurities, our sadness, our depression, our debt, our jealousies and our dwindling faith.

Hypocrisy becomes a way of life, as though we are always on stage. It destroys our ability to be real with anyone, including those closest to us. It is the enemy of transparency, the enemy of true relationship. It is the enemy of one of our most fundamental emotional needs — to be known and accepted. And while I cannot prove it, I believe that where we find hypocrisy, we find pride and we find fear, all huddled together.

I’m going to go ahead and stop here with this little morsel:

“I brought you out of Egypt and led you into the land I had promised to your fathers. I also said: I will never break My covenant with you.  You are not to make a covenant with the people who are living in this land, and you are to tear down their altars. But you have not obeyed Me. What is this you have done?  Therefore, I now say: I will not drive out these people before you. They will be thorns in your sides, and their gods will be a trap for you.” – Judges 2:1-3

God doesn’t play. This wasn’t about His rejection of them (or our loss of salvation), it was about his discipline for their disobedience (and ours). Yes, we live under grace, but the New Testament also teaches us that God disciplines those He loves (Hebrews 12:6), so grace is not absent discipline. We cannot wave this off as either optional or as something we don’t need to bother with — not anymore.

There is too much happening around us. Darkness is getting thick, my friend. We cannot afford to let our light be diminished by our own disobedience.

This has been my journey with God lately. Getting a good look at what is on my land that I need to drive out. Staring my own disobedience in the eye.

Now I’m seeking God’s help to know how to stop co-existing and start driving out. I’ll keep you posted. If you’ve already been down this road, help a sista out. Offer up your wisdom. And if you’re in the thick of it, let me know how it’s going. Getting rid of things is hard work. I’d love to pray for you as we journey this part of the road together.

i can live with that – part one

At the same time the Benjaminites did not drive out the Jebusites who were living in Jerusalem. The Jebusites have lived among the Benjaminites in Jerusalem to this day. {Judges 1:21}

I could go on about how I was in the book of Judges with no idea why I chose to go there. How I was reading along at more of a yada yada pace than taking a contemplative stroll. I could tell you about reading past verse 21, but not really because my eyes kept going back to it even though my brain kept wanting to move on. Get to something interesting. I could tell you all of that, but I won’t. I’ll just cut to the chase. Or to the quick. Whichever it happens to be for you.

What are you co-existing with that you should have driven out?

Personally, I needed a whole minute after that question. Could have been a month. A month of trying not to let it stop at conviction. Forcing myself to stay with it and not push it away as one of those oh, that’s good moments and then go back to being whatever it is that I am. Oblivious. Comfortable. Unconvicted.

I may need more time. But here is where I share my journey with whoever may be listening, so I’ll share a couple of miles or so I’ve gone with this so far.

The Israelites had been told to drive out the inhabitants that were in their promised land. Get rid of them. The promised land was the territory God had given them. Places He had given them the authority to dwell as His people.

What is the spiritual shadow being cast by this physical reality? What is my land, my territory of authority?

My home, family. My marriage. If I were still raising children, my parenting would be a place God has given to me, but now it’s my grandparenting.  Ministry. Calling. Gifting. My workplace. My relationships with God, and with others, inside and outside of the Church.

This is my land, my territory. God has planted me here and given me authority, spiritually.  These are the areas I have felt led to ask myself the question — what have I been allowing to co-exist with me here, rather than driving it out?

Some that I came up with apply to me, and some do not. Maybe they resonate with you, though.

Fear, including the fear of man. The fear of disappointing someone, of feeling their disapproval or criticism. That kind of fear will keep us in a place of striving, trying to please and appease. It will keep us from speaking the truth when truth needs to be spoken. Then there is the fear that comes when we watch the news. That’s the fear that can turn our desire to be informed into an obsession. And because we are obsessed with what is going on around us, we are continually fueling fresh fear.  And no, the answer is not to bury our heads, no longer paying any attention to the news. The news is not the trespasser on our land. Fear is.

{Also, for the record — fear includes control, because control is rooted primarily in fear.  Think about it.}

Pride, which includes a low self-esteem. Whether thinking too much of ourselves, or too little of ourselves — we are still continually thinking of self. Narcissism, which is pride on steroids, is rampant in the Church. One day on social media will confirm that, I promise.  Comparison is also rampant and is rooted in pride. Self-hatred, self-loathing, self-everything — all the offspring of pride.

Pride ensures that no matter where we look, we see ourselves.

{It also includes a judgmental and/or critical spirit, both of which can be traced back to pride.}

Apathy/Complacency. Couch surfing Christians. Those who believe they follow Jesus, but never actually follow Him past the couch. They keep their religion as a “private” matter, never talking about it with others.  Or, they post spiritual memes on their social media accounts and consider that sharing the gospel. It is spiritual laziness and we have made peace with it and allowed it to co-exist with us in every aspect of our lives.

I can think of others, can you? A religious spirit, unbelief, addictions of every kind, and compromise, just to name a few.

To figure out how and why these things are enemies that should not be allowed to co-exist with us, we have to consider what they destroy, or at a minimum, what they hinder in us. We’ll do that in the next mile. Stay tuned!

we’ve got better things to talk about

The shift has been subtle. My view slowly changing, steps receding, pupils dilating to take in more light, see bigger. I think God is doing something, but it’s like having a mouth full of meat. I keep chewing and chewing, trying to taste and talk at the same time. So for the next few moments, just ignore the sound of me trying to swallow something that is too big for me.

The headlines should be enough. They tell me all I need to know, but then there’s the ‘click’ as I go in to get all the details. Because we all have our magnifying glass in our hands, like children on the ground trying to see the smallest parts of our world. So we move in on the stories of horror and grief and mankind slipping further and further into an abyss of madness, and we try to pretend we are staying informed but not affected. Like traipsing through the muck of our current culture and having incessant discussions about the latest acceptable deviance isn’t doing anything to our hearts.

(But it is, you know.)

And I see God’s people sifting through the garbage dump. Horrified by what we see, but unwilling to look away. Pointing and announcing how unacceptable the garbage is, as though the rest of us need to be convinced. Sometimes it feels like the only thing we talk about is how dark the darkness is becoming. And how the darkness doesn’t line up with God’s word.

(as though it used to but now, oh the terrible times we live in now)

But I feel the shifting, don’t you? God calling His people to look up. To set our eyes on Him. To remember. To stop trying to convince the garbage dump that it is full of both garbage and the disapproval of God. To stop trying to convince the world that God is on our side and not theirs.

(as though God so loved us and not the world)

Let’s get off the ground. Stop examining the dirt. Look up and get some perspective.

Evil exists. Depravity abounds. People are doing things and believing things that are ungodly. We can stop looking so surprised and appalled. And afraid.

(we have nothing to fear. nothing.)

I don’t want to be filled with righteous indignation because some man is demanding the right to be a woman. There’s nothing wrong with being aware of what’s going on, but I don’t need to give it the attention it wants.  It’s a conversation for my prayer closet, not a threat to my faith, or to the Church.

{And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.} Matthew 16:18

I want to be filled with wonder as I watch God pursue the heart of my co-worker. I want to be giddy over what He is doing through local ministries bringing His hope to the broken. I want to shout for joy because He is answering prayers for family and friends. I want harvest parties when hard sowing bears beautiful fruit. I want to go deep into the stories of how God is loving people, showing mercy, rescuing sinners and making them saints.

I feel Him tugging. Gently urging us to our feet, from peering at the dirt as though dirt is something new.

Anyone can look at a garbage dump and talk about the garbage. But we are the children of God. We recognize Him when others cannot. We know what it looks like when He is moving. We know His handprint when we see it. We are the ones who know Him, know that He is moving in the earth, healing, delivering, saving. We have the spiritual eyes to see Him pursuing people, drawing them to turn around and follow Him. We are those who know that God is showing love to the least and compassion to the hurting. Remaining faithful and not walking away when it gets messy and hard.

We know He is not shouting at the garbage, but reaching in and pulling people out of it. One at a time. Drawing them with His kindness, not His wrath.

We are the only ones who can see what our Father is doing, and do it with Him.

do you love me or are you just checking out my fruit?

To God’s church at Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus and called as saints, with all those in every place who call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord—both their Lord and ours. – 1 Corinthians 1:2

The salutation alone should convict us. But let’s go on.

In the next 5 verses Paul affirms the Christians in Corinth.

…you do not lack any spiritual gift… He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you will be blameless …you were called by Him into fellowship with His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. 

And then he begins to address their sin.

“For it has been reported to me about you, my brothers, by members of Chloe’s household, that there is rivalry among you.”  (1:11)

In fact, you are still not ready, because you are still fleshly. For since there is envy and strife among you, are you not fleshly and living like unbelievers? (3:2-3)

 For who makes you so superior? What do you have that you didn’t receive? If, in fact, you did receive it, why do you boast as if you hadn’t received it? (4:7)

It is widely reported that there is sexual immorality among you… (5:1)

I say this to your shame! Can it be that there is not one wise person among you who is able to arbitrate between his brothers? Instead, believer goes to court against believer, and that before unbelievers! … Therefore, to have legal disputes against one another is already a moral failure for you.(6:5,7)

Do not be deceived: “Bad company corrupts good morals.” Come to your senses and stop sinning, for some people are ignorant about God. I say this to your shame. (15:33)

And it goes on. He addresses the way they took communion, their handling of the spiritual gifts, and the disorder of their services.

His letter to them was very disciplinary in nature. Apparently, they needed quite the spanking. But here is what he never said to them:

You are bad Christians. You are so-called Christians. You are not really Christians.

Ok, let’s table that for a sec.

We are fond of checking one another out in search of fruit. We love to quote Jesus saying “you will know them by their fruit”, which apparently permissions us to demand to see some fruit as validation of one’s true Christianity, as though we’re the border guards of heaven.

Can you tell it just peeves me?

Let’s read it together. But this time, let’s read the entire passage, instead of just the last verse.

“Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravaging wolves.  You’ll recognize them by their fruit. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree produces good fruit, but a bad tree produces bad fruit. A good tree can’t produce bad fruit; neither can a bad tree produce good fruit. Every tree that doesn’t produce good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. So you’ll recognize them by their fruit.” (Matthew 7:15-20)

Question: Who will be recognized by their fruit? Answer:  False prophets. The context of this fruity passage is false prophets, not the brethren (I just like saying that word).

Since we’re doing this, let’s look at a different passage.

“I give you a new command: Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you must also love one another. By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:35)

Question:  How will followers of Christ be recognized, by all people? Answer: By the way we love each other.

I’m begging us to love one another and stop pointing our fingers across the aisle, demanding to see fruit. Especially from people we only know from the other side of a computer screen. The internet is no place from which to judge authenticity, purity, or any other fruity substance.

If you’re going to demand to see my fruit, we’d better be in some kind of relationship, know what I mean? 

We are to bear much fruit. For.our.Father. Not so that our fruitfulness can be weighed and measured by our brothers and sisters and a decision can be reached as to whether we really are who we say we are.

Paul’s letter to the Corinthians teaches us something if we will dare to learn it. It’s the art of calling believers up and out of their sin.

Do not be deceived: No sexually immoral people, idolaters, adulterers, or anyone practicing homosexuality, no thieves, greedy people, drunkards, verbally abusive people, or swindlers will inherit God’s kingdom. And some of you used to be like this. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God. (1 Corinthians 6:9-11)

Paul doesn’t deny their believership (yes, spell check, I did make that up. go with it.). He affirms it and calls them to come up to it, basically saying to them, “This is not who you are anymore. Stop living as though it is.” How ’bout we do that? Call one another up to our true identity, as those in Christ. What if we affirm one another instead of yanking out our fruit-seeking spyglass. What if we loved each other enough to say ‘Stop that. That’s not who you are.’?

I know. I get it. There is just something in us (some of us, not all) that feels the pull to point out what others are doing wrong. Not because we love them, but because we are offended and highly indignant that they are sinning. We feel the need to defend the image of Christ. We get mad when someone sullies it with their sin.

And we’re cranky because we have this log in our eye so we can’t see too good and that makes it hard to look for your fruit.

when will i just stop surrendering?

Quick. What do you think when I say the word surrender?

I think song lyrics. I think on my knees before God. I think giving up.

A word I say, and think I’m doing, but really, I’m not.

 I’ve looked. I cannot find one scripture reference to humans surrendering to God, using the actual word surrender.

As though God wants to take prisoners rather than be reconciled to His children.

But I remember all those times on my knees, weeping and singing the lyrics. Don’t You remember those, God?

So He said to me, ‘Jonah’, and something in my stomach dropped as I reached for my bible.

Jonah was commanded to go prophecy to the city of Ninevah that God was going to destroy it because of their wickedness.

So Jonah ran. Ended up on a ship, a storm came, they threw Jonah overboard, big fish swallowed him. Jonah sees the error of his ways from inside the fish, and says this…

but as for me, I will sacrifice to You
with a voice of thanksgiving.
I will fulfill what I have vowed.

{and i think to myself…hmmm. that could be called surrender, right?}

Big fish pukes Jonah out onto a beach. He went to Ninevah and preached against it. All of Ninevah repents, turns from their wicked ways. God chooses not to destroy the city.

Jonah gets mad. Says this —

That’s why I fled toward Tarshish in the first place. I knew that You are a merciful and compassionate God, slow to become angry, rich in faithful love, and One who relents from sending disaster.

So then God and I discussed Jonah.

He surrendered, right?

Is it surrender to agree to obey Me once I have taken you into the depths? Is it surrender to stop fighting only because I have put you into a position where you can no longer fight? When I’ve cut off your ability to run? Is it surrender when you finally realize that you cannot hide from Me?

What is really being established — your surrender, or My sovereignty?

Why do you think Jonah ran in the first place?

Because he didn’t want to preach to Ninevah.

No. Jonah ran because he knew Me, but did not trust Me. 

He knew I am a compassionate God, a God rich in love and mercy. Jonah could not trust that I would do things the way he would do them. Jonah’s heart was to destroy Ninevah because that’s what justice looked like to him. He didn’t trust Me to do what was just.

Oh. Ok. {awkward silence} So, am I like Jonah? Knowing You but not trusting You? Surrendering because there are no further options?

Is my surrender really surrender, or is it Your sovereignty being established?

{i knew the answer. So did He. He was gracious to move the conversation along.}

What about Mary?

Mary. Teenaged girl, engaged to be married. Suddenly there’s an angel named Gabriel in front of her. Mary remained calm. We can ponder that some other time.

Gabriel tells Mary that she will become pregnant by the Holy Spirit and give birth to the Messiah.

“I am the Lord’s slave,” said Mary. “May it be done to me according to your word.” (Luke 1:38)

Was that it? Was that her surrender?

No. Mary didn’t need to surrender because she never chose to fight. She trusted Me.

I want you to consider this the next time you are singing those lyrics, the next time you are on your knees before me, pledging your surrender. 

Are you surrendered like Jonah, or like Mary? 

I don’t actually want your surrender. I don’t want to have to fight with you until you finally give up. Surrender is not the same as obedience. Surrender is not the same as trust. Surrender is simply acknowledging that you are in a battle that you cannot win. That isn’t what I’m after.

I am not your opponent, I’m your Father.

I want you to know Me. And because you know Me, you trust Me. If you know Me and trust Me then you will not have to surrender in order to obey Me.

The conversation spanned two weeks. I know that we use the term ‘surrender’, because it best fits our heart’s posture at the crossroad. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.

But I do think God wants to shift something. To have us step into the light and get a better view of Him.

He never wanted to fight us in the first place. He wanted to love us, rescue us and bring us back to Himself. We’re the ones who turn it into a fight.

He will establish His sovereignty if that’s what has to happen.

Or, we can seek to know Him, choose to trust Him. We can have obedience that didn’t require surrender.

We can choose to believe that He is worthy of not just our worship, not just our praises, but worthy of our obedience. Worthy of our trust. Worthy of so much more than our surrender.

Because He is not a worthy opponent. He is a worthy Father.

resist the rabbit

As I was falling asleep one night recently, I got a picture in my head.

And I knew exactly what it meant, what I need to talk about, and who I need to talk to.

Primarily women. Mostly in their 20’s, 30’s and 40’s. Maybe teens. Maybe seniors. Moms. Singles. Marrieds. You’ll know who you are in just a moment.

You see those dogs racing around that track? They are chasing something they will never catch. It’s put in front of them to motivate them to run as fast as they can. They don’t know they’ll never catch what they’re chasing.

Neither do you.

This comparison thing? That’s your racetrack. And you can just pick your rabbit. I bet you don’t even have to think about it. You know what it is. I’ll name a few, in case you need a prompt.

Looks, Finances, Clothes, Home, Husband/Boyfriend, Marriage, Children, Career, Ministry, Education, Gifting, Friends, Followers, Likes.

Is that enough? Can you find your rabbit yet? The thing that makes you feel less than or not enough? Whatever is making you work harder, run faster, buy more, do more, be more, so that you can finally feel like you aren’t losing. Trying to keep up with the latest trends, whether it’s what you hang on your wall or put on your kid, so that you aren’t in the back of the pack. The thing you chase, that always seems just a few more steps away.

Tell me. Have you ever caught that rabbit?

I wonder what would happen if you just stopped. Stopped racing and chasing. Left the track altogether. Seriously. Just walked away.

It’s highly unlikely that a group of anything chasing something will all stop at once. Whether it’s a pack of dogs or a generation of humans — someone has to stop chasing first. Others will follow.

It will take courage to be who you are without feeling like you should be more. To be okay with what you have. To celebrate your life as it is right here in this space of time. To relax with your flaws, your scars, your shabby without the chic.

To just be content.

Because whether we admit it or not, all that comparing just breeds discontent in us until we are compelled to the chase. But let me tell you, enough gazing over the fence and before long, who we are and what we have and who we have just isn’t enough. Don’t you know that’s where this chase is designed to go? To make us look around and conclude that there must be something better out there waiting for us. A better job, better house, better spouse, better marriage.

Don’t we know who’s holding the rabbit?

But I believe in you, Beloved. I believe that you are the generation to end the chase. I believe that you will see the rabbit for what it is. I believe that you will refuse to raise another generation of daughters who chase what cannot be caught. Daughters who cannot look in the mirror and see enough. Daughters who take the bait and enter a race they’ll never win.

I believe that you are the generation who will raise up women who fight for one another instead of compare one another. Women who would rather walk in authenticity than walk in someone else’s shoes. Women who know they are fearfully and wonderfully made, uniquely created, fully known and fully loved.

You can be the brave ones who will stop running. Who will turn around and walk away. Who will say enough. We are enough. 

We need you to be who you are, to fulfill the purpose God has for you. Just you. And the next generation needs to see you being you, so that they know it’s ok for them to be them. They need to see you resist giving chase to something you can’t catch, so that they know they can resist it too.

Resist the rabbit, dear ones. It will always outrun you.