Category Archives: Blog

The Narrowing

It was subtle, so I didn’t notice it at first. And then one day I looked around and realized that most of the things I wanted when I was much younger, I no longer want. But it goes deeper than that.

I was having breakfast with a friend recently and she asked me what I’m looking for in community. I told her that I had come to a place of wanting to be around people who just want to talk about Jesus, that not much else interests me, and I wasn’t sure why. She nodded in understanding and dubbed it “a narrowing” and that term just felt so perfect. A narrowing.

When I was in my young decades – 20’s, 30’s and 40’s, the space of my life was filled with oh so many things. Family and work. Fears and pain and wants and dreams, and a past I was trying to outrun. At the far end of my 20’s, Jesus moved into that tattered, crowded space, and I had no idea of the narrowing that had begun and now, three and half decades later, I see it, and it is a joy to behold.

My narrowing is still in motion, and it’s painful at times, but man do I find it to be beautiful. I wish for a narrowing for us all. Instead of the wideness of everything this life has to offer, I want us to find life in the narrow space of the one thing, and to feel utterly satisfied in that space.

“One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek Him in His temple.” Psalm 27:4

It is the space of His presence, where the need for company narrows to just the One, and the desire to be with Him eclipses every other desire.

Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” He said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow Me.” Mark 10:21

It is the culling of our idols. Letting go of the one thing most of us lack—the giving of it all, especially that which is most dear. The ability to lay down what we have held so close. Everything that gives us our sense of security, or allows us to feel in control. What provides our comfort and gives us value. It is a painfully necessary narrowing, this one.

“The Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has made the right choice, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:41-42

When the many things get crowded out by the one thing. In this narrow space, we find the value of being, over doing and we finally understand that doing must flow from being, or it will wear us out.

 He answered, “Whether or not he’s a sinner, I don’t know. One thing I do know: I was blind, and now I can see!” John 9:25

My thirst to know the ins and the outs and the greek and the hebrew and the what the when and the where has been narrowed to one thing. I was blind and now I see and I want to know the God who did that. This has been the continual, sweetest, narrowing for me – the pursuit of the heart of my Father, who pursued my heart first.

Sometimes I still strain to make space for other things, only to find that those things do nothing to satisfy the true longing in my soul. So I pray for the narrowing to continue in me. And I pray it for you.

May you find that God has been narrowing your life in all the best, even painful, but beautiful ways.

The Weight of a Life That’s Not Mine

Life gets heavy when it becomes about you.

It was a Holy Spirit whisper that won’t go away, so I know I need to talk about it, because I think there’s a lot of heaviness going on.

I remember how life felt so many years ago. Like I was perpetually bent over from the weight of what I carried, and what I carried was my imploding life with a marriage that was in pieces, and chidren that were hurting. What it was and what it wasn’t. What I wanted, felt I needed, thought I should have, deserved. Why was I here, was I good enough, was I doing it right, did I ruin everything.

I was strong, but not that strong, and eventually I ran out of stubborn. So I quit. Threw in a towel and said no more. I fell under the weight of a life that was mostly about me, and God caught me in a fire that my flesh sorely needed.

I came out of that fire knowing one thing more than anything else: Every inch of my life is from Him, to Him, and for Him. Everything is about Him.

It’s hard though. Seeing everything through a lens that isn’t focused on us takes getting used to, but it is the road to freedom. When our lives are our own, with that comes the stress of doing it right. Comparison. Being enough. The fear of failing. The pressure of succeeding and of living a life of purpose and leaving our mark and pretty quickly we are bent over with the weight of a life that isn’t even ours.

I’ll (maybe) end with this question: Is it possible that at least some of the high levels of anxiety and depression that we are experiencing might be caused by the weight of lives that are mostly about us?

Oddly enough, there is great freedom and healing in the untangling of ourselves from our lives, averting our eyes from the mirror, and letting Him be the main character in our story.

Questions to start asking:

God, what do You want? What will bring You glory? What are You doing in this place, at this time, and how can I obey You here? How can I cooperate with what You want to do in me, with me, and through me in this season?

Where has my life become my own and how do lay it down again?

Marriage Matters—Fight Well

Learn how to fight, not with your spouse, but for your spouse and for your marriage.

Scripture is clear that our spouse is not our enemy.

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities,

against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” Ephesians 6:12

It is so important that we understand who is really coming against our marriage, and where our battles must be fought. We must learn to take our fight into the spiritual realm through prayer.

Your marriage is meant to glorify God, which makes it a continual target for destruction by the enemy. Therefore, covering your marriage in prayer is imperative. Praying every day for (not against) your spouse is a good place to start. The same things that come against you, are coming against them.

One of the most practical ways I pray for my spouse is by asking God for the fruit of the Spirit to grow in abundance in both myself and my spouse.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” – Galatians 5:22

 Fruit must be grown. It never just appears. Be faithful in prayer, because God is faithful to answer.

We will have arguments and disagreements with our spouse, but our real fighting, the place we exert the most combative energy, should be done through prayer. That’s how we actually win the fight.

But Some Doubted

Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had directed them. When they saw Him, they worshiped Him; but some doubted. Jesus came near and said to them, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations…

Matthew 28:16-19

Judas was gone, so they were down to eleven. Eleven would eventually become twelve when they add Matthias. All but one of these twelve men would be martyred for their faith. Only John would survive, but would be exiled to Patmos, an island inhabited by criminals and political prisoners.

But as they stood here on this mountain, looking at the man they watched die and be buried in a tomb, some of them waivered. Some of them were uncertain as to what they were seeing. Some of them wondered if it could really be true. Some doubted. And yet, Jesus commissioned them all to go and make disciples.

At some point, their doubts became faith. How can we know this? Because people don’t risk, and ultimately give, their lives for something they doubt ever took place. I mean, I wouldn’t, would you? Would you go into a place that kills Christians and share the gospel, which includes the resurrection, if you doubted it happened?

Here’s my point with all of this –the doubters weren’t disqualified.

We all doubt, at some point. We may not doubt the resurrection, but maybe we doubt when we’re told that someone was completely healed of an incurable disease. Or when someone gives a testimony of seeing a deformity become undeformed in front of them. And don’t we often waiver between doubt and belief when we hear the stories that come out of places like Mozambique of dead bodies being raised to life? We want to believe it’s true, but doubt shows up anyway.

Some of us doubt things a little closer to home. Maybe we think our church is too dead to revive. Our bank account is too low to pay our bills. Our health is too far gone to be healed. Maybe our loved one has wandered too far to be brought back or we’re too broken to be of any use to the Kingdom of God. See what I mean? We are some who doubt.

He knows our doubts just as surely as He knew the “some” of His own disciples who doubted. But like them, He commissions us anyway. Calls us to go, to make disciples, to lay down our lives. He still fills us with His Spirit and His gifts and puts us into His body in whatever way He sees fit. Our doubts do not deter Him from calling us to keep following and keep going.

If Jesus doesn’t disqualify us because of our bouts with doubt, then who are we to disqualify ourselves?

Some doubted. Some still doubt. It’s ok. Let’s tell one another, pray for one another, and then go make disciples anyway.

The Servants Knew and So Did I

The man in charge tasted the water; it had now turned into wine! He did not know where it had come from, but the servants who had drawn the water knew. 

John 2:9

The words are in here. Waiting for me to set them free in the form of coherent sentences. The words, though, are swirling around like dust in a shaft of light, mixed with the emotions of what I see in this story. And not just this one, but every where in the gospels that I look at Him. *Sigh.* I’ll do my best to herd the words into a story of sorts.

This man, the one in charge at the wedding, he thought he was just tasting good wine provided by the bridegroom. (yeah…I caught that. Did you? Jesus. Our bridegroom. New wine.) Anyway.

The servants knew all about that wine that used to be water. They had seen it, participated in it. These were the hired help. Waiters. Seen, but perhaps unnoticed by the people eating and drinking and being merry. But they saw what Jesus did and I wonder what they thought of it all. Did they want to just fall down at His feet and never get back up?

I remember when it happened to me. My daughter was a teenager. That sweet girl is now, well, edging close to 40, but let’s not get sidetracked. Back then she was young and she was running wild from her pain with people that were not good for her. That sounds kind of generic, so let me see if I can put it another way. Her friend group was not just not good for her, they were actively bad for her, destructive in so many ways. As her mother, I was wringing my little hands half to death with worry and prayers that felt like they were hitting my ceiling and bouncing off the walls. And then Jesus told me how to fill the waters jars, so to speak. But instead of water jars, I would be filling bowls.

When he took the scroll, the four living beings and the twenty-four elders fell down in front of the Lamb. Each one held a harp and gold bowls filled with pieces of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people…

Revelation 5:8

“Ask Me to remove them from her life.” (this generated not a small discussion on – a. is that legal, you know, spiritually speaking, and b. what exactly did He mean by “remove”. We worked it out.)

So right there, in that two story house, I began to fill the bowls. And two weeks later the first friend left her life. And then another, and another, until they were all gone for various reasons. But here’s the thing. My daughter didn’t know, and those friends didn’t know that there was glory all over this thing. But I knew. In that house, where I often felt like the servant that wasn’t seen, I knew where the wine had come from, and it put me at His feet never wanting to get up. As one by one He removed the danger from my daughter’s life, I knew I was seeing glory. I knew He was there and it undid me in ways I can’t describe. He knows and I know that I will never be able to thank Him enough. We both know the glory He has spilled into my life and the lives of my family and how it has all become a fire in my bones that I pray will never burn out.

Words and thoughts like dust particles, but I want to capture them for you. To say to you that there is glory all around you. Bowls being filled as you pray for something that seems too big to be answered. Ordinary water being turned into not just something better, but into the best thing. Glory that may go unnoticed by others, but you will know, because you have done what He asked of you, so you’re in on it. You’re a witness to the miracles of what He’s done, and what He’s doing. You are filling bowls with what looks like unglorious water, but oh, just wait. He will bring forth wine. The very best wine. And you will know.

Let it be a fire in your bones. Let it bring you to His feet and may you never want to get back up.

I Am Not The Anointed One

He did not fail to confess, but confessed freely, “I am not the Christ.”

John 1:20

John the Baptist had been sent by God to be a witness, to testify of the Light, to carry a message of repentance and baptism, and to call people to turn back to God and to prepare the way for His Messiah.

But John had no Savior complex. He knew who he was, and who he was not. He was not the Christ, (anointed one).

And I thought of the people that have come in and out of my life over the years. The ones I thought I could change. Fix. Be the solution they needed. These people have included my husband, my kids, family members, friends. All the people. I wore their problems and their hurts like they were my own and in the end, they were still broken and I was exhausted.

Through a long process I am learning to do things differently. To untangle myself from things that are not mine to hold or carry. To have compassion without needing to have the answers. I still don’t do it well, which may be why God needed to give me the words I need to speak to my own soul.

I am not the anointed one. I am not the Savior.

We are His witnesses, and we carry the message of salvation through the gospel, but we are not the Christ.

We cannot save anyone. We aren’t anyone’s greatest need. We cannot fix what is broken. But if we don’t remind ourselves of who we are, and who we are not, before you know it we are neck deep in someone else’s brokenness, trying with all our might to save them, change them, or convince them.

We can invest ourselves in the lives of others, but doing it without taking on the weight of their lives requires that we know the difference between bringing them to Jesus, and trying to be Jesus for them.

I am not alone. Many of us are fixers by nature. Helpers to the core, because helping someone else, having, or being the solution to their problem, meets some kind of need in us.

We can help, but we can’t be their hope. We can walk with them, but they cannot need us more than they need Jesus. We can speak truth, but we can’t obey it for them. For their sake and ours, we have to freely make our confession:

I am not the anointed one.

Marriage Matters—Honor

In the beginning, we do things simply because we know it will make our spouse happy. We want to please them, so we listened attentively to their stories and laughed at their jokes. We cooked their favorite meals, wore that shirt they liked, and put the toilet seat down. Because in the beginning, we did things with them in mind.

But life happens and if we aren’t watchful, we stop honoring our spouse. We start doing things with us in mind instead of them. The shift can be subtle, but it packs a punch.

Kids can create another shift, because kids are consuming. They can, if you let them, take over a marriage. Life will revolve around the children to such a degree that you are no longer husband and wife, you are only mom and dad. This isn’t good for your kids or your marriage.

So, today:

Think of one thing you can do that will make your spouse happy. Clean the house before they get home. Watch the game on tv with them. Put the toilet seat down. Laugh at their joke, even if you’ve heard it a million times. Just do one thing, one thing that will honor them. One thing that will put them first. Tomorrow, rinse and repeat.

Remember the beginning. Remember the feelings you had for your spouse, and why you fell in love with them. Remembering is like blowing on an ember to bring it back to a flame. Get your spouse back on your mind.

Save some time and energy for your spouse. If your kids’ activities are consuming, then cut them back. Children need to see their parents spending time together, and having fun together, even if it means the kids don’t get to play every sport or go to every event. You are their example of marriage, so let them see that marriage is about loving your mate, putting them first, and doing things simply because it will make them happy. Let them see honor.

Repent. Go to your spouse, apologize for your part in what has happened, and commit yourself to them again. Yes, I know they’ve shifted too. I know they are just as self-consumed as you are. I know they don’t think about your happiness all that much either. But playing the ‘you-go-first’ game never ends well. Waiting for them to wake up and smell the coffee means nothing will ever change. You’re here. You’re reading this, so, tag, you’re it.

Perhaps the problems in your marriage are so overwhelming that you can’t see how any of this can help. Maybe it won’t fix everything. Maybe you’ll have to push past a lot of resentment in order to do any of it. So push. Take the small step. Because not doing it means nothing will change. In fact, not doing it means things will likely get a lot worse.

And doing it defeats what the enemy is trying to do to your marriage.