Tag Archives: fear

dear friend

Dear Friend,

I prayed for you last night and before I could really say much at all He showed me a picture and gave me words.

horse

“That horse was made to run, but he fights the narrow place that is the starting gate, because he can’t see beyond it.

He fights the narrow place because he can’t see that it is the gateway to what he was created to do. 

He fights because he’s afraid of the narrow place.”

I thought about this picture and these narrow places that some horses and some people fight. What I think, my friend, is that it’s mostly about trust.

So I have to ask…do you trust God? Do you trust that in the narrow place what hinders you will be stripped from you because He’s preparing you to run? Because narrow means nar.row. Pride and fear and the need to control just don’t fit in this place.

Do you trust that even though it feels like the sides of this place are pressing you hard and there’s no room to move here, God is in this narrow space with you and He brought you here for a good purpose?

Do you trust that the gate will open? Because it will. And you will run, because you were made for it my friend.

You were made to be more than afraid.

And friend, there is someone else who is afraid of your narrow place. Someone who will do anything to keep you out of it.

Someone who watched as Jesus went into a narrow place called Gethsemane, and watched as He came out of that narrow place headed for the cross and nothing was going to stop Him and just look at what happened.

So you aren’t the only one fighting that narrow place. But you are the only one who will come out of the fight victorious.

Because you have God on your side. He is for you, not against you. His plans for you are good and His plans will prevail and you will live your destiny.  He is before you and behind you and on every side. You will be victorious because the liar and his lies will bow to the Truth that lives in you and in the narrow place a stronghold will crumble.

You will go into that narrow place and there God will prepare you for what is on the other side of that gate and you will come out running.

Because you were made for this.

So anyway, just wanted to let you know I prayed for you last night. God showed up. It was good.

Love,

Your friend

what do you do when the road bends?

Life is sweet on the straight road, even if the road is narrow. Yes, the straight and narrow is easy travelling. Pick up and put down those feet because I see where I’m going and the view is wide on this narrow road. The plan filled with all my “someday” things is in hand and I’m believing the Planner and all is well.

bend-in-roadAnd then the road bends. What do you do with a bend in the road? When God throws in a corner that you can’t see around? What do you do when your question of “what next?” falls at your feet all alone and no answer falls with it?

This is when anxiety knocks at your heart. It wants in and you want to open the door because frankly, you’d like the company. Road bends are lonely, quiet  places and sometimes even the voice of fear is a welcome sound.

(Did I say you? Sorry. I meant me. Or I. Definitely not you. Just me and I. But it feels better to say you so I’ll just keep doing that, k?)

And you know because you’ve heard that knock before so you just know better than to open that darn door. Because anxiety never comes to visit alone. It brings friends and they come for a party in your soul. Fear, stress, worry, depression all come in wearing party hats and carrying no chocolate.

So you ignore the knocking or maybe you don’t and before you know it there’s a monster bash going on inside of you.

Because road bends are hard. They are lonely and they are quiet places that feel like God is fasting from talking to you.

When the road bends the plan falls and flutters away and what do you do when the road bends before you arrive at your “someday”?  When you are too young for that ‘I’ve lived a good life’ thing and too old to believe the world is still yours to conquer. When you’ve held on to ‘someday’ so long you’ve got a hand cramp.

Well, I’ll tell you what you do. You listen to this song and you put that thing on repeat until you hear the words in your sleep. You listen to every word until the sound of anxiety knocking fades to silent.

Grander earth has quaked before
Moved by the sound of His voice
Seas that are shaken and stirred
Can be calmed and broken for my regard

What’s waiting around the bend may be ground shaking and stormy…not your ‘someday’ thing you’ve waited to come. And what we can’t see beckons fear to come to the door of our heart and shout ‘what if?’. True, no?

What do you do with the fear that comes with a bend in the road?

Let Truth answer the shouting of fear. God is on this side of the bend.  Everything else may be hidden but God does not hide from us. He may be quiet, but He is there. With you. Always. And whatever shaking, stormy thing that may or may not be around the corner must still bow to Him, will still be controlled by the loving hand that holds your life.

Far be it from me to not believe
Even when my eyes can’t see
And this mountain that’s in front of me
Will be thrown into the midst of the sea

Right here where the road bends is where we find our heart’s true bent. We will either answer the sound of anxiety and fear pounding at the door, or we will turn the music up and trust God. Pull out our mustard seed and move the ‘what if‘ mountain.

What do you do when you can’t see around the bend?

Let the bend in the road bend your heart to believe God is good no matter what and He is for you not against you and whatever comes, or doesn’t come, He is with you.

Through it all, through it all

My eyes are on You
Through it all, through it all
It is well

So let go my soul and trust in Him
The waves and wind still know His name

It is well with my soul

There is a bend in my road and God is not fasting He is speaking through a song. And it is finally well with my soul.

bringing down an idol

It came unexpectedly, as it often does. She was praying a prayer of repentance for her idolatry. I was agreeing with her turning away when suddenly her voice faded and I was hearing God. And now, days later, I am still hearing Him and He is not speaking of her and her idolatry but of me and mine.

nebuchadnessarIt began with a picture and the story of a king who demanded a bow. (Daniel, chapter 3)

“Whoever does not fall down and worship will immediately be thrown into a blazing furnace.”

” Therefore, as soon as they heard the sound of the horn, flute, zither, lyre, harp and all kinds of music, all the nations and peoples of every language fell down and worshiped the image of gold that King Nebuchadnezzar had set up.”

And in the midst of someone else’s prayer, God spoke to me. “They did not bow because of what they could gain, they bowed to avoid the consequences of not bowing. Fear, not the statue, was their idol.”

And the story was but a shadow of things to come. A shadow of the things God’s people would find themselves facing, and the fear that would compel them to bow. A shadow of the enemy that would speak to our deepest fears with the lie that bowing would keep us safe from those fears.

And they are everywhere, these fears. I see them in me and I see them in you.

Being alone     Poverty     Rejection     Death     Pain     Going without     A lack of comfort

Being known and not being known   Loss of control     Being controlled     Disappointment

These are the fiery furnace that threatens us.

And so we bow.

And we call our idols by the names that are most familiar. Substances, marriage, people, money, plans, fame, isolation. We name them and determine to bring them down, to render them powerless in our lives.

And still, we bow. And the guilt and shame just about does us in.

But I have heard the voice of God, and my heart has been bruised by Truth.

“Beloved, it is easy enough for my people to shout about how I am their deliverer. The words ‘God will’ come forth quickly, almost mechanically, and with much bravado. And yet, my people still bow.”

“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and He will deliver us from your majesty’s hand.”

 “My child, stop shouting at your idol about how your God will deliver you. The idol of fear does not fall with those words. It will fall with these:”

“But even if He does not, we want you to know, your majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”

Those words. Those are the ones that stick in the throat and reveal the truth of our devotion. And in this revelation, I am connecting the God dots, following the trail He has been leaving for me. Tracing bread crumbs back through everything I’ve written and finding the treasure of His love for me. And now here I am and His words are painfully sweet and crushingly beautiful, once again.

“I did not hang on a cross so that I could get something from you, but so that I could be with you. My devotion to you has never been about your performance, but about who you are.”

And I know what He is asking me with these words.

Are you devoted to Me because you believe I will perform for you, or because of who I am?

He has pursued me over and over again, into this place of surrender. He has loved me beyond reason. And bread crumb by bread crumb He has led me to the knowledge that He will love me and pursue me and act in absolute devotion to me…even if. Even if I bow to fear and run away, He will pray that my faith will not fail. Even if I head off to wallow in the pigpen until I want to come home, He will wait and watch and run to me. His kindness toward me has left me shaken so many times. I have given Him every reason to turn away, to wash His hands of me, but He has remained. And I weep with the knowledge that it was not Him performing for me, but Him being who He is. I weep because I just don’t get it and I don’t think I ever will. I weep because His devotion to me is unmerited and I can’t get away from that truth. I weep because I have spoken words of faith and then bowed to the idol of fear too many times to count.

I weep because I’m tired of bowing.

I’ve read the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego many times, and every time was struck by the fact that Jesus was in the fire with them. I loved how they came out of the furnace without even the smell of smoke on them. I cheered at their deliverance. But the trail God has left for me leads me not to their deliverance, but to their devotion. In His love, He has led me to what brings down an idol.

Even if.

It is not a white-knuckled performance. It is facing the consequence of not bowing, feeling the heat of the fire, and being devoted enough to God to say “even if I have to go through that fire, I will not bow”. That will bring down our idol. That’s when we will know that we have put nothing above God.

Father, I pray for deeper devotion. Take hold of my heart and sift it again and again until all that remains is wholly devoted to You. Strengthen me with a devotion that will refuse to bow, no matter what fire threatens me. Lead me always to the cross and may there, and only there, be the place that I bow my life until I am bowing before Your throne. 

at the cross

Oh, but deeper in me is something else, almost a shadow it’s so vague. But it’s there and I am compelled to give it my voice.

Beloved, there are days of another Nebuchadnezzar swiftly coming to us. In those days, it will not be her determination to perform, but her pure devotion, that will keep His Bride from bowing. When Jesus told Peter he (and the others) would be sifted (Luke 22), Peter spoke these words – words that sound like devotion:

“Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death.”  

But he bowed to the idol of fear, and he suffered the grief and sorrow of that bowing. The sifting revealed the limits of Peter’s devotion, and when he turned back, he turned with a devotion that strengthens us today.

And so I speak to all of us, to His Church, may we not simply utter words that sound like devotion, as we continue to bow to the idol of fear. May we allow a sifting to reveal the limits of our devotion so that we can know the sorrow of our bowing, repent, receive His forgiveness, and go into the days ahead refusing to bow to any but God.

 

my money changers

I don’t know how to write about it so I’ll just put down words and see if they make sense.

I think there are money changers in the temple that is me. Yeah..how’s that for a start?

Prayer-JournalEvery time I walk into my prayer room that hasn’t heard much prayer lately, I see my prayer journals that haven’t been written in much lately, sitting on the table. They stare at me. I stare back. Sometimes I stick my tongue out at them and walk away. I am a prayer-less woman with a prayer room and prayer journals. And guilt. Lots of guilt. Because I love prayer and I know the power of it, I know the importance of it and I haven’t been very engaged in it.

But God. He’s not one to just let a thing go now is He? He stares too, just like those stupid journals and I haven’t the nerve to stick my tongue out but I do walk away. But then there is my bible, sitting open right next to my keyboard. Open to this passage…

“When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple courts he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said,’Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!’ His disciples remembered that it is written: ‘Zeal for your house will consume me.'” John 2:13-17

While there are probably several reasons for Jesus’ anger, I believe the fact that they were in the temple courts, the only place the Gentiles could pray, is one of them. In the other gospels Jesus is recorded as saying that His Father’s house is to be a house of prayer. The money changers were in the place of prayer.

And then this came to mind…

“Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst?” 1Corinthians 3:16

And that’s when the thought seeped it’s way into my frontal lobe.

“I think I have money changers in the temple.”

Things that have set up shop in the place they should not be, in the place of prayer. I can name a few of them.

Complacency. Fear. Worry. Unbelief. Busyness. Escape.  I’m sure there’s more. Maybe some of them are even good things that have taken the place of the better thing. My money changers.

And you know what grieves me the most? It isn’t just that I have stopped interceding for other people, or that my journals have empty pages.

It’s that I’ve stopped talking to my Father. That’s why I wept tonight. Because I know He desires to hear my voice. He leans in for it. I know He waits for me to cry out to Him, to come to Him. He waits to answer what I’m not asking.

So I think there are some tables that need to be turned over. I think a little zeal is in order.

Thanks for letting me talk all of that out. It may not have made much sense to you, but talking about it helped me. Thanks for listening.

it’s time to jump

high diveI only jumped one time. That was enough. When I take my mind back to that moment, I can still feel the fear. I saw others jump with ease, and go right back for more. I knew I could swim. I knew that the water was safe. I believed the mechanics of jumping, that if I went straight in, the water would catch me, I would touch the bottom and push my way back to the surface. And the one time I jumped, it happened just like that. I think I was crying when I got out of the water, and I never, ever climbed that high dive again. I remained terrified of jumping, but I never understood why.

(because believing and trusting are not the same)

I was watching a group of kids recently, barely toddlers. They were in the playroom at church, climbing up through the giant tubes and tunnels, sliding down and going right back for more. Only a few held back, content to go up the few steps so they could come down the small slide. But most of them were absolutely fearless. It never occurred to them that something bad could happen to them. We had led them in there and turned them loose to play, so they played with abandon.

(adults believe. children trust)

And then life happens. Hearts get broken. Innocence gets taken. We fall, we get hurt, we find ourselves alone. We learn the hard truth that not everyone is good, and sometimes, everything doesn’t turn out okay. Sometimes things just get worse. And fear comes in and bullies our trust into submission.

(“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”)

Jesus said we must change and become as little children. Change is a process. It takes time to grow from an adult into a child. To learn the truth that God is good. But time belongs to God and God cannot be bullied by fear. Instead, He sends love into the fight. And like ocean waves it just keeps coming, beating back the fear that keeps us from jumping. Because trust and fear do not dwell together, no sir, one of them must go, and God cannot be bullied.

Trust renders us dependent upon the one we are trusting. Isn’t that it, really? It’s the falling backward, trusting the one standing behind you to catch you that makes us vulnerable, wholly dependent on someone else’s ability to be trusted. No control. And isn’t the need for control the darkest place in our heart, after all? Isn’t that the biggest fear of them all?

(“but there is a God in heaven…”)

And the hardest thing about growing from an adult to a child is realizing that we never did have control. Not really. Some would call it an illusion. I think deception is a more fitting name.

Do I dare say my next thought? The one that keeps pulsing against my heart? Believing makes you safe. Trusting makes you dangerous.

(because believers rarely jump)

I am a believer, becoming a child who trusts. Because God has refused to be wave1bullied by my fear and love has been beating against my heart like ocean waves.

And He has me at the high dive again. I believe He is with me. I believe He is good. I believe He has good plans for me. But none of that will get me to jump.

I have to trust Him to catch me.

Luke 18:16; Matthew 18:3; Daniel 2:28

Note:  Many times Jesus asked, “do you believe?”, or He said that someone’s faith had healed them, etc. Both of those words contain, within their biblical definition, the word ‘trust’, and the idea of going beyond having a knowledge of something to actually trusting what you believe. In other words, when Jesus said “do you believe Me?”, He was asking “do you trust Me?”.

Webster’s dictionary does not use the word ‘trust’ in its definition of the word ‘believe’, and I am convinced that neither do many of us.

for you i pray

I wanted to tie 2012 up in a nice bow, bid it a fond goodbye, wax poetic about lessons learned and new beginnings and such. But my heart keeps turning away from all of that, bidding my mind to stop chattering long enough to just listen. And the weight of what I hear bends my heart, bowing it low. Voices from this past year. Conversations I’ve heard, words I’ve read. And I feel the Holy Spirit in this little room, this prayer room. I feel His weight on my heart as He reminds me to step out of my small story. And so I enter yours, with prayer…

hanging_by_a_threadFor those who spent this year hanging on by a thread. Maybe it’s a thread of hope. Maybe a thread attached to the hem of His garment, but a thread nonetheless. For you, I pray you will stop trying to trust Him. Trust is not something you try, it’s something you choose. He wants so much more for you than a thread of hope, a thread of trust. He wants handfuls for you. I pray that you will not be content with a thread in hand, but that you will let go of His garment and grab onto Him, and find your hands overflowing, unable to contain what you hold. For you, the thread holder, I pray ~

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

A year of both hands full of Christ, holding on to all of Him with trust and confidence, and hope that overflows. Both hands, beloved, grab onto Him with both hands, and let go of the thread.

PENTAX ImageFor those who suffered great loss and spent time in the ash heap of mourning. For you, the one now familiar with great sorrow and what surely feels like unquenchable pain. I pray you will know His comfort, like a balm, for that pain. I pray God opens His hand and pours forth joy, like oil over your mourning heart. I pray that at just the right time, His time, He will invite you to dance. Yes, beloved, you have known the time to mourn, but there is still a time to dance. I pray that this year you will receive grace to comfort others with the comfort you have received. I pray for all of your pain, all of your grief, every tear to be used, nothing wasted. And I pray that His promise will strengthen you on those days when grief attempts to hijack your heart ~

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

I pray that you will emerge from the ashes, steadfast and sure that all of this, the pain, the tears, the death, are all temporary conditions. That you will know and give others the hope that a reunion will happen, a holy hand will wipe away the last of the tears, and never again will you know this pain.

For those who spent the year afraid. Afraid something will never end, or perhaps that nothing will begin. Afraid of too much or not enough. Afraid that you didn’t hear Him right, or that you did. Afraid of what you feel, or of the fact that you feel nothing and maybe you never will. What if nothing changes? What if everything changes? For the one tormented by fear, I first pray peace for your wildly beating heart. I pray that this year He will lead you on a journey of letting go of fear. A journey of cliff jumping into faith, arms wide, heart fully expecting to be caught by His hands. I pray that you will know that He is with you, always, and that He will not drop you. I pray that your heart will come to know perfect love in the deep places where fear often hides. For you, the one who lived this year full of fear, I pray you will hear the voice of your Savior ~

“Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

I pray that this will be a year of increasing faith for you, the year where belief in the power and love of your God leaves no room for fear.

For the one who lived with disappointment. Unmet expectations that took the wind out of your sails throughout the year. Hopes and plans and dreams that fell apart. Your heart grows weary. I pray for you, dear one. I pray that this will be the year of renewed hope in God, and lower expectations in people. I pray that all of your hope, every last drop of it, will be in God and God alone. I pray for strength to hold on, and strength to let go. To let go of people and hold firmly to God, where your hope will find no disappointment. I pray that this year will find your prayers being answered, for God knows what hope deferred does to our hearts.

“But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear Him, on those whose hope is in His unfailing love…”

Hoist your sails again, friend, and lift your voice in prayer with confidence that your God hears, your God sees, and your God will answer. His love will not fail.

For the one who tried. You tried being good enough. Tried praying, tried church. Tried to read the bible full of words you don’t understand. Tried to be nicer. Tried saying the right things the right way, tried fitting in. You followed the list of do’s and don’ts. You tried, but your life is still a mess. Your heart is still empty and so are your pockets. Your addiction still rages, and your marriage is still broken. And you just don’t get it. For you I pray that this was the last year.

The last year that you remain pinned to the ground by the enemy. The last year that you live unaware of Love. Unaware that there is a Father in heaven who created you, longs for you, and gave up His Son so that you could know Him.

I pray someone will be brave enough to walk up to you and tell you the truth; that what you need is grace and trying isn’t currency to buy it with because grace is free, and only grace can put us back together and Jesus has the grace to give if you will just come. Come, while you are yet a sinner. While you are yet broken and messy, with all that rages in you and against you…come. I pray they tell you that trying won’t save you, it takes dying and Jesus did that dying for you.

cross1

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

For you, my messy, broken friend, I pray that this was your last year of trying. I pray this is the year you cry out to Jesus in faith that He is who He said He is…the only One who can save you. I pray this is the year you find freedom in Christ, and you find out just how loved you really are by Him. I pray this is the year someone tells you.

To all my friends, family, and those I encounter through the written word…I pray for you, and for me…

Our Father in heaven, Your name be honored as holy.
Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.And do not bring us into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

Happy New Year!

Romans 15:13; Ecclesiastes 3:4; Revelation 21:4; Ephesians 3:17-18; 1John 4:18; Mark 5:36; Psalm 33:18; Romans 5:8; John 14:6; Matthew 6:9-13

beautiful words

“You will be with child and give birth to a son…“.

Suddenly, life was different than she thought it would be. Mary was blessed, highly favored, a virgin planning to be married, and live the life of a carpenter’s wife. She may have been dreaming of her wedding, perhaps even nervous about her wedding night. And in one moment, her small story gave way to a bigger story, as what had been possible gave way to what was impossible.

A virgin would give birth to God.

And from her came a most beautiful sound. “I am the Lord’s servant…May it be to me as you have said.”

doulos( The word is doulē – the feminine form of doulos.)

It is the sound of trust, of devotion, of one who does not count her life as her own. The sound of one who does not grip her own story, with all of its plans, hopes, and dreams. One who is willing to let her life bring forth God’s glory, no matter the cost.

It is the core of our Christianity, is it not? This impossible birthing of God from the womb of a virgin. Those of us who are followers of Christ do not question the truth of Mary’s story. What others celebrate once a year, we hold in our hearts every day.

Mary, blessed and favored by God. Chosen to carry Christ.

“To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”

We too are blessed, having been chosen to carry Christ in us. The living God, dwelling in the hearts of those who follow.

So why is it so hard for us, this doulos life?

Christ is in us. God is for us. What do we lack?

What keeps us gripping our own story, our own plans, with our arms wrapped around our cisterns that do not hold water?

Christ is in us and God is for us. What should we fear?

That life will not go as we had planned? That we will not be in control? That our small story is all we have and if we lose that what is left? Are we afraid that what God has said is really true…that are lives are no longer ours to have and to hold?

I pray for us. I pray for me. I pray that by the power of Christ in us and God for us, we will stop. Stop gripping and fearing and chasing down what is possible.

This Christmas we will once again declare our faith in the impossible. Let us not stop there.

Let us turn, with our hands emptied of our own story, and speak beautiful words to God.

“I am Your doulos…may it be to me as You have said.”

 May our lives birth glory as we lay them down.

Luke 1:31; Luke 1:38; Colossians 1:27; Romans 8:31;