Come and Dine

January 10, 2020January 10, 2020 / walkingthisjourneysite / 2 Comments

**This is Part one of a series on focusing on the value and beauty of reading God’s Word.**

You’re hungry.

As a pilgrim on a long, and often, arduous journey, you find yourself so weary that you might not even realize how famished you are until a door opens and the first wafting aroma of prepared food hits your senses.

Your stomach growls as your hands begin to tremble.

You step inside and discover a dining table completely hidden beneath the abundance of every wonderful kind of food you can imagine. Substantial food meant to nourish and strengthen the body. Nourishing soups, healthy vegetables, hearty meats — foods intended to fuel your body for the demands of the day.

Off to the side you notice another table filled with sugary desserts. The kind that are appealing and pretty, all sugar and fluff. Experience tells you they are sweet and easy to eat, but lack the nourishing qualities of the more sustaining, life-giving food at the first table.

Your body craves nourishment but from which table will you choose to eat?

Will you bypass the table of substantial foods to satiate your cravings with sugary fluff from the dessert table, simply because it provides an immediate, yet temporary relief from your hunger and tastes so sweet? Will you eat your fill of it until you no longer crave anything more?

Or will you sit at the first table and fill your plate and body with meat, vegetables, and fruits until your strength is renewed?

Which will you choose?

No, this isn’t a post about changing our lifestyles, ditching junk foods, or focusing on whole food diets, plant based diets, or anything of the sort.

Friends, what we feed our souls and minds is so much more important that what we feed our bellies.

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I grew up in a church that valued the Word of God. Now, that doesn’t mean how the Bible was interpreted and taught was necessarily always correct, as the church functioned within a strong legalistic-minded belief system. But there was an emphasis made on the Scriptures and I always had a Bible readily available to me, memorizing significant portions of it throughout my childhood.

However, I did not read my Bible consistently on my own nor did I always understand what I read. Therefore, as I listened to a message or Bible lesson, I simply accepted what that person said to be truth; After all, they read a verse from the Bible supporting their thoughts, so it had to be true, right? I never learned how to study the Bible and certainly questioning anyone was never an option in that environment, but I would do my best to read simply so I could check that duty off of my ‘How to be a good Christian’ to-do list.

The truth of it? Reading my Bible was a chore … a constant source of guilt from not remembering to read it daily or from reading it through the lens of poor theology.

As a young adult, I began attending a new church and eventually married, which began to awaken a hunger for something more. I found myself in a life that was not being supported very well by the shaky spiritual foundation of my youth. A variety of books came my way and I began to devour these writings by Christian authors because they flowed so easily and made me feel somewhat better. I thought I would finally find some answers to the burning hunger inside me. In the mornings, I would sit at the table with my Bible and these books. I intended to spend time in the Scriptures but those books were so much more appealing so I was drawn to them first. I didn’t have to think … I just read the thoughts of another. They became my bible.

But then life began to grow more challenging and confusing, while the hunger inside of me deepened. I couldn’t find the answers nor the guidance I needed in those books I was reading. They weren’t enough. There was no real substance to them in the face of trial and heartache. There had to be more. I turned to my Bible again but often grew frustrated with the antiquated language, the poor theology/teaching of my past, and my overall lack of understanding.

I was starving — spiritually starving.

My spiritual foundation began to shake and crumble into dust beneath me.

One Christmas, I decided to buy my husband a new Bible. He still used a paperback student Bible from his youth and I thought if he had a different Bible, then maybe, well, maybe something would change. I asked for guidance from a man in our church and that Christmas, I wrapped up a new study Bible, in a version I knew nothing about, and gave it to my husband.

And you know what? Change did begin to happen … in me.

One morning, out of curiosity, I opened his Bible and began to read familiar passages. They were the same, yet different. The clear wording and the study notes at the bottom of each page opened an entirely new world to me and even though there was still so much I didn’t understand, I began to delve into the pages of God’s Word in a way I never had before. I began to feast at the table God had set before me. Eventually, I received my very own copy of the Scriptures like I had bought my husband – I was overjoyed and dug in deeper.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies…”
Psalm 23:5a

But life only became more perplexing. I went from being in church services all the time to sitting in a nursery or backroom with my autistic son and my other babies. Fellowship with other believers became increasingly more rare as I spent day after day caring for my children and night after night staying awake with my son. My world grew very small until it became a journey of walking through a barren desert of isolation.

This is when God’s Word started to become more real to me.

At the recommendation of someone who expressed concern for me and my children, I visited a different church. I needed help. My children needed help. I was desperate. After one solo visit on a Wednesday evening, I was intrigued by the teaching and began taking my younger children to their kids Bible club program. Within a short period of time, I moved my whole family to this church. The clear teaching of Scriptures, whether from the pulpit or in counsel, presented without drama or harshness, drew me in and began the process of building a new foundation in my life and in the lives of my children. A foundation built on the Word of God.

Ironically enough, life did not become any easier. I tried to get involved, to be part of the church community and find my niche, but it didn’t work, largely due to the needs of my autistic son. I made sure my younger children were at every service and every event, but I rarely had the freedom nor the stamina to participate myself. My world grew smaller as I cared for my son with autism and began homeschooling my other children. I just could not understand God’s plan in all of this as the journey grew increasingly dark.

This is when the Word of God became my Light and that … changed everything.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path.”
Psalm 119:105

Come and dine, won’t you?

Photo by Kaboompics .com on Pexels.com

Some Golden Daybreak – for me, for you

January 2, 2020January 2, 2020 / walkingthisjourneysite / 2 Comments

I didn’t have any intention of writing today and rather hoped to withdraw inside myself for awhile … but these words wouldn’t stop until they were written, although hastily written they certainly are. Perhaps someone else could use them too.

I woke and immediately a sense of sadness began to fill my slowly stirring mind.

My autistic son was heading back to school today and while I should have been relieved to finally get a break, I felt a heavy weight instead. This holiday break had been challenging … no, actually it was downright hard in many ways. The first few days weren’t too bad but by the second day after Christmas, everything fell apart.

He can’t tell me what is wrong so I learn by observation, but even at that, I can never assume I know what is happening inside of him. However, one thing was very evident … he gave every impression of being consumed with anxiety.

Yes, he is on medication. Yes, I also use supplements for him.

Sometimes, they aren’t enough.

This was one of those times.

By the last evening before his return to school, I was curled up on the couch, unable to fight one more battle. My heart raced, my chest ached from a heavy weight of grief, I was devoid of strength. Trying to grasp what I could not possibly understand, while working to support my son and stay ahead of whatever was gripping his mind, was suddenly too much.

I didn’t cry. I couldn’t speak. I just held a blanket against my chest and prayed for bedtime to come. Relief for us both.

That relief was nowhere to be found when I woke in the early morning hours even as the house rested quietly around me. I couldn’t escape the memories nor the heavy weight and overwhelming sense of responsibility.

The burden felt too great for my shoulders alone.

Often, while reading articles or perusing comments to articles or new stories, I find a mocking response towards the ones who seek the Lord in times of distress.

“Religion is a waste of time”, they say. “There is no God.”

Their tone condescending, their words belittling … they deny the very truth we stand on as believers and followers of Christ.

I understand.

Sometimes as believers, even we wonder if what we believe is really true.

Oh, most of us will never admit that but when the storms of life hit and knock you senseless to the ground, a quick instinctive response often rips from the depths of our soul …

“GOD! Where are you?!”

Where is He …

For the widow who weeps alone today, recently bereft of the love of her husband?

For the daughter, who longs for his embrace?

For the mother who prayed and longed for her prodigal child to return for so many years, only to see her go further away?

For the grandma beside the grave of the grandson she raised?

For the heartbroken widow, remarried and finding herself in a horrendous situation?

For the wife waiting for the cancer to win the last round?

For the mother broken with sorrow for a child she doesn’t know how to help?

These are my friends, my family, my sisters in the Lord … the ones in my prayers this morning.

Each has been forever touched by sorrow.

“God! Where are you?”

We are not alone in our brokenness and one does not need to search long before finding Scripture that seem to echo the very words coursing through us with each beat of a troubled heart …

“Be not far from me, for trouble is near; For there is none to help.”
Psalm 22:11

Give ear to my words, O Lord,
Consider my groaning.
Heed the sound of my cry for help, my King and my God,
For to You I pray.
In the morning, O Lord, You will hear my voice;
In the morning I will order my prayer to You and eagerly watch.
Psalm 5:1-3

As the deer pants for the water brooks,
So my soul pants for You, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God;
When shall I come and appear before God?
My tears have been my food day and night,
While they say to me all day long, “Where is your God?”
Psalm 42:1-3

Where is He?

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Psalm 34:18

He is near to you.

As hard as it is to grasp sometimes when we feel alone in the journey, the Lord does know what we are walking through when seasons of grief and sorrow come our way. We can find a measure of comfort in that He knows what we are experiencing for He has walked the way of grief as well.

“He was despised and forsaken of men,
A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
And like one from whom men hide their face
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.”
Isaiah 53:3

I walked into my kitchen just as the sun was breaking over the horizon. The barren trees stood starkly against the background of dark blues, gentle pinks, and subtle oranges. The bird feeder swayed quietly from the branches without a single bird to be seen. This view from my kitchen window drew me outside, despite the frosty chill, until I stood in wonder of a beautiful sunrise after the grief of a weary night. What a loving God to paint glorious sunrises with the promise of the most beautiful one yet to come.

Some glorious morning sorrow will cease
Some glorious morning all will be peace
Heartaches all ended, school days all done
Heaven will open – Jesus will come.

Some golden daybreak Jesus will come
Some golden daybreak, battles all won
He’ll shout the vict’ry, break thro’ the blue
Some golden daybreak, for me, for you.

Sad hearts will gladden, all shall be bright
Goodbye forever to earth’s dark night
Changed in a moment, like Him to be
Oh, glorious daybreak, Jesus I’ll see.

Some golden daybreak Jesus will come
Some golden daybreak, battles all won
He’ll shout the vict’ry, break thro’ the blue
Some golden daybreak, for me, for you.

Oh, what a meeting, there in the skies
No tears nor crying shall dim our eyes
Loved ones united eternally
Oh, what a daybreak that morn will be.

Some golden daybreak Jesus will come
Some golden daybreak, battles all won
He’ll shout the vict’ry, break thro’ the blue
Some golden daybreak, for me, for you.
(written by Carl A. Blackmore)

To the ones who would mock and consider me a fool for placing my trust in a Savior they believe doesn’t exist, I’m actually okay with that and I don’t blame you. I do believe the day will come that you will understand the truth upon which I live.

But to the ones who know the voice of their Shepherd and are walking through a pathway of sorrow, I hope you find encouragement and strength in His Word to face today. Tomorrow will take care of itself.

Before my son left this morning, I stood beside him as he sat on his char, waiting for his van to arrive. I felt powerless and helpless, until I did the only thing I could … I placed my hand on his shoulder and began to pray. I prayed until my hand moved to the top of his head and my voice broke from the tears as I pleaded with Jesus for more.
“Give him more, Jesus. Give him more.”

That is my prayer for you today as well.

“Give her more, Jesus. Give her more.”

Friends, a glorious daybreak is coming when all the sin and sorrow that plagues this earth will cease and Jesus will come to restore what was once broken. No more autism. No more cancer. No more death. No more grief. No more tears.

Some golden daybreak, for me, for you.

December 31, 2019 / walkingthisjourneysite / 2 Comments

We stand at the dawn of a new year.

The time when we diligently make new goals, bravely set (or reset last year’s) resolutions, and in general, feel a need to shake things up.

Make changes or possibly, insist we are fine, just as we are.

In any case, be the master of our own destiny.

But what does that look like for the believer? For the one who seeks to follow God?

Here are my thoughts … offered hesitantly and humbly.

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As a child, I had hopes and dreams, albeit they were mostly simple and shallow. For example, driving home from church on a summer Sunday evening and hoping that my Dad would skip the turn to go home and instead go straight towards the local dairy parlor for ice cream.

Their chocolate ice cream was so good!

I never asked him but he knew we always wanted ice cream. Each drive home from church, I would sit in the backseat, silently wishing and repeating over and over, “Go straight, Dad … please go straight.”

If the car still turned towards home, I would be disappointed but never upset. I could wish for an ice cream cone all I wanted but, as my father, it was his decision whether or not it was a good time to provide it.

As a child, I was dependent on my father to provide and even when I didn’t understand, I usually trusted him.

Or what man is there among you who, when his son asks for a loaf, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, he will not give him a snake, will he? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!
Matthew 7:9-11

We human beings tend to be independent, rather self-focused creatures, wouldn’t you agree? We want what we want, when we want it. We want comfort, security, success, the admiration of others … and more independence.

As a teenager, I often frustrated my Dad because I never told him when I needed something. When I was driving one of his vehicles, I never mentioned if I needed gas money. I would simply take money from my birthday stash and put gas in the car. Some of it may have been family circumstances at the time, but a large part of it was a stubborn independent instinct that had been stirred awake. If I needed something, I instinctively searched for ways to provide it for myself. I didn’t want to be dependent on anyone. I didn’t want to be a bother. I probably hoped that my Dad would give me gas money, but I certainly didn’t ask.

Not asking became normal. Discouraging any hopeful expectation became a habit.

So I was surprised many years later, when my current Pastor mentioned that I don’t seem to ask God for very much. After being a witness and a voice of counsel on my journey for a number of years, he finally said, “Tanya, you really need to learn to ask God for more.”

I was taken aback.

What? Ask God for more?

Why did that seem so … scary?

Why did my instinct scream that I couldn’t possibly ask God for more?

Well, like many of us, I have very distinct memories of God not answering my prayers.

The desperate prayers of a young teenager who didn’t feel she could face another day as she soaked her pillow with tears each night.

The heartsick, confused young wife, still staining a pillow with tears as she struggled to understand.

The broken tears of a mother as she watched autism steal her son away.

I couldn’t ask God for more because deep inside, I had stopped trusting Him.

He didn’t answer my prayers the way I had pleaded with Him to do for so many years.

When I begged Him to move life straight forward towards that coveted chocolate ice cream cone, He turned onto a road that led a different direction. Definitely not where I wanted to go. He didn’t give me what I asked for and eventually, I stopped trusting Him. I stopped asking.

Sure, I paid lip service to Him but deep inside, I became more intent on being independent. I would find a way to survive this life He had given me. I would do something good with it. I would say I trusted Him … and yet, I never did as I held tightly onto the reins of my life.

“Tanya, ask God for more.”

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The very nature of my life does not allow for much freedom so the concept of asking for ‘more’ seems counterintuitive and pointless. The details of why this is are not important to this post but my journey has often been one of a solitary pilgrim walking in a hidden, desert place. I fought this journey for years, desperate for a life that allowed the freedoms that I watched others enjoy. I resented the restrictions of my life and struggled with a deep bitterness. I pushed hard to find ways to gain more freedom and independence and, in the process, wore myself out and received no blessing from the Lord. Essentially, it was more His will to keep me hidden, than flying free. My life began to resemble a bird imprisoned inside a cage. I longed for freedom but the circumstances of my life were as bars surrounding me, preventing my escape.

I beat my wings against those bars, trying to break my way out until I was completely broken inside. Then I set about making that bird cage the nicest it could be. If I had to be stuck, it was at least going to be a noteworthy cage. But, the One who has allowed all the restricting portions of my life has never allowed me to have my own way. He purposed to teach me how to live the life I have from the only One who knew how.

Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30

Spending time in the Scriptures, learning of Him, seeking Him in all the hidden details of my life, is bringing about an understanding that far surpasses the God of my childhood.

I have studied His character and I am learning to find rest in His sovereignty and grace. I am continually learning that God is good. He is so good to me.

The Lord, the Lord God, merciful
and gracious, longsuffering, and
abounding in goodness and truth.
Exodus 34:6

You know, I may have been disappointed when I did not get that chocolate ice cream cone as a young child, but it never changed how I viewed my Dad. I spent enough time with him to understand his character and that I could trust him even when he didn’t give me what I wanted.

When we invest time in our relationship with the Lord, we learn the character and nature of our God and this is actually what sustains and carries us through the hard seasons of life. We might not understand the purpose of our suffering but we find all we need when we understand the character of the God who allows it. When we depend on Him as the source of our strength, He takes on the yoke of our burden and walks beside us on our journey. He teaches us how to live this life the way Jesus lived His earthly life … sacrificially and honoring to God the Father.

As we live in the knowledge of His character, our response to hardship will change from, “God, why are You doing this to me?” to “God, I trust that You have allowed this in my life so teach me how to walk through it Your way.”

In the last 14 years, God has pretty much taken away every crutch I have ever used to limp my way through this life. He has not answered many of my prayers in the way I wanted. But instead, He has been doing something else altogether.

During the hardest seasons when I think I can’t take one more step, He is there carrying me through. When I don’t know what to do next, He provides direction. When I want to give up, He never lets me. Sometimes He tarries and lets me wait in silence. Sometimes He allows me to back myself into a position where I am forced to take an unwanted step … and then I see Him move on my behalf in amazing ways. His grace sustains me, His strength carries me.

Through it all what remains true is that the character of God is unchanging. He is good and pure in all His ways. When we can’t see the way in front of us because of the fiercest storms, we can trust the Captain who guides our ship.

This is what I have learned of my God while waiting as a bird, in a bird cage.

O taste and see that the Lord is good;
How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!
Psalm 34:8

So more recently, when I heard our Pastor give a charge to our church body to ask God for ‘more’, it became a thing of beauty as I pondered the past and looked towards the future. ‘More’ became a word of hope … of promise.

Oh God, I want more of You. I want to be more of a gentle, quiet, burning candle shining fervently with the light of your mercy, love, and grace. I want more of You in the lives of my children. Please God, I want more. More of a life that is led by You and not by my own fear or selfish ambitions. I want to be more dependent on You and less dependent on myself. I want more. More dying of self and more love for others. Less of me and more of You. I want to trust You more when I don’t understand the journey and the loneliness of it threatens to steal my joy away. I want more of the work of the Holy Spirit in the depths of my being and outpouring in the fruits of my life … even if You are the only One who ever sees. Oh God, I ask You for more.

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Set all the goals you wish for this upcoming year of 2020 … but my challenge for you, for my children, and for myself is to walk with God more. Learn more of Him from His Word. Spend more time in prayer. Seek more of Him in every detail of your life. Confess and repent more of sin. Let nothing stand between you and God. Die more to self. Put Him first above all. Please join me in asking God for more … more of Himself.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.”

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

*Turn your eyes upon Jesus – hymn written by Helen Howorth Lemmel

Jesus is Still in the Boat

December 9, 2019 / walkingthisjourneysite / Leave a comment

I took my son to the doctor for a physical this past week. I know, I know … probably not a news-worthy story to most people. I understand. But in my world, this was a matter of significance and great importance. My son is 18 years old now, of considerable size, has autism … and anything medical related is scary, But, due to a different need, this physical was required. You see, my son also has a life-long, intense anxiety regarding dentists, which inhibits even the most basic of exams. A couple of months ago, I finally learned of and reached out to a new dentist who offers sedation dentistry at a surgical center near their office, well over an hour away from our home. This dentist specializes in children, but also works with special needs adults … many of whom share my son’s fears. With the support of his teacher, we attempted a consultation visit with the dentist, which by the standards of most was not successful, but allowed him to be scheduled for sedation. The dentist assured me that they would take him on as a patient and, with those words, a significant burden began to lift from my shoulders.

The process to be seen for sedation is quite involved, both from the surgery center’s viewpoint as well as, from the needs of my son, so I have been working towards this appointment for the last couple of months. It has been a stressful but I was so thankful. For the first time ever, I didn’t feel as alone in this particular battle. I paid the upfront expenses and scheduled the sedation appointment. All the pieces were coming together fairly well so that the only major task left was the physical, which was required by the surgery center to clear him for sedation.

Now, my son is only slightly less fearful of doctors than he is of dentists so I was concerned about the success of this appointment; However, medical desensitization is a goal written into his IEP at his specialized autism school. Staff have been working with him, as I have been, for a number of years and he has made progress. I was nervous but hopeful the appointment would go well enough that the doctor would be able to supply the information the surgery center needed.

In a situation such as this, all I can do is prepare my son as much as possible, support him every step of the way, pray (pretty much without ceasing), and trust the Lord for the outcome.

My son was successful with this physical in the eyes of the Doctor, his teacher who was there to support him, and especially me. Even though he refused to allow certain things, we were able to do more than ever before and the doctor cleared him for sedation. We were so proud of him!

I was incredibly thankful as it appeared all was well and going according to plan. We just had one more week until his sedation appointment and then the worry of his teeth and the weight of this appointment would be behind me … just in time to focus exclusively on the Christmas season.

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I have been reading the book of Luke this advent season, trying to read a chapter a day so that I can finish the account on Christmas Eve. It is so easy to lose sight of why we observe this most treasured of holidays in the midst of all the bustle of festivities and concerns of this life, so I decided to focus my reading on the birth, ministry, death, and resurrection of Christ. I started out a day behind and, as a result, I ended up reading Luke 5 on December 6th, this past Friday. Now, I have read the story of Jesus telling Simon to take his boat out to the deep waters and cast his nets countless times before. It isn’t new to me. But on this particular morning, as I read Simon’s response, my breath caught and to my surprise, tears filled my eyes.

Now it happened that while the crowd was pressing around Him and listening to the word of God, He was standing by the lake of Gennesaret; and He saw two boats lying at the edge of the lake; but the fishermen had gotten out of them and were washing their nets. And He got into one of the boats, which was Simon’s, and asked him to put out a little way from the land. And He sat down and began teaching the people from the boat. When He had finished speaking, He said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”Simon answered and said, ‘Master, we worked hard all night and caught nothing, but I will do as you say and let down the nets.’ (verses 1-5)

Wow, Simon’s words reverberated through me with considerable force. I have worked for years trying to help my son. I would take him to the doctor by myself and those appointments were battles. Very real battles. I tried taking him to the dentist and those battles were even uglier. I would drive him once a week to a dentist office 45 minutes away just to work on desensitizing him by myself. My attempts to take him places backfired. Special diets were not helpful. Special therapies did little. I rarely, if ever, saw any fruit from the labor. I grew exhausted from the continual battles and lack of help. My nets were always empty.

This grew into a discouragement in its rawest form. Trying to help a child who is not typical in any way and who was unable to respond to my efforts. Carrying the weight of those nets myself without a single soul to help. Learning to hide those failures from others because I knew they simply couldn’t relate and often would condemn. Feeling guilty that my best efforts weren’t enough. Building walls to protect us both. Feeling frightened for the days ahead.

I know a thing or two about empty nets.

But let’s look at what happened when Simon obeyed the command of Jesus, even though his own experience and earthly knowledge must have counselled him otherwise?

“When they had done this, they enclosed a great quantity of fish, and their nets began to break; so they signaled to their partners in the other boat for them to come and help them. And they came and filled both of the boats, so that they began to sink.” (verses 6-7)

All night Simon and his companions had worked casting their nets into the waters, yet not catching a single fish. They must have been weary and discouraged with their circumstances and nothing to show for their labor. But once Jesus stepped into his boat and told him try again, their nets were soon filled to the point of breaking and sinking their boats because of all of the fish! What was the difference?

Jesus was in the boat.

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A few years ago, I sat in my boat and looked at my empty nets. I was at my end and uncertain how I could possibly face another day. Then Jesus stepped into my boat and told me to go out into the deep waters once more and cast my nets. I was undeniably weary from my own efforts so with broken faith, I obeyed the voice of my Savior. I cast those nets in waters that I had fished countless times before but this time, something odd began to happen. Over time, doors began to open that had been previously closed. Support arose from places that had been hidden before. My son slowly began to mature and make the kind of progress I had given up on ever seeing. While the journey was (and continues to be) still hard, it was clear that Jesus was in the boat.

As I read the interaction between Jesus and Simon in Luke 5 this time, I became overwhelmed with thankfulness. My best efforts in the past produced empty nets because even though I prayed, I usually worked in my own sufficiency, while rooted in fear. But with Jesus in the boat, I have seen full nets on many occasions. So that morning, as I read Luke 5 and contemplated the upcoming sedation dentist appointment for my son, I hoped for and anticipated the same kind of results. I was anxious to see a net full of fish.

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The surgery center called a few hours later. As soon as I heard the nurse’s voice, I sensed something was wrong. It took her a moment before she could say the words … the anesthesia team had reviewed all the information regarding my son and decided they could not accommodate him at their facility. So, after months of working towards this goal and just one week away from the appointment, they cancelled his sedation surgery.

Shock is really the only word I have for what I was feeling as I listened to the nurse and then the anesthesiologist who explained their reasoning. As their words echoed through my mind, I could only think of the amount of work, time, prayer, worry to the point of sickness, and lack of sleep that have occurred over these last two months as I have worked towards this long-awaited goal. I was stunned to have it so abruptly halted without any sense of resolution. The hope I had felt for the first time was ripped from my grasp.

Heartbroken silence surrounded me as I stood at the edge of my boat, staring blankly into the depths of the waters around me, with nothing but empty nets to show. I never felt more alone.

But …

Jesus was still in the boat.

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It is advent season, a time to observe and ponder the earthly arrival, ministry, and sacrifice of Jesus, the Son of the Most High. As a Christian, this is a most precious and joyous time.

In the book of Mathew, the first chapter begins with the genealogy of Jesus and then gives the account of the angel talking to Joseph in a dream as he considered what to do with Mary, his espoused wife.

“Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Emmanuel” (which means “God with us”). Mathew 1:20-23

Emmanuel … God with us.

We often enter this blessed season with great expectations of tidy, neat gifts under the tree, happy children, cooperative and loving families, Christmas plays and cantatas, good will and kindness, and well, perfection. But what do we do when we enter this season and our realities simply do not match those expectations? What do we do when we don’t get what we wish for … or even long for?

At this point, I am unsure what to do about meeting the dental needs of my son. I have learned that people around me simply do not grasp what this journey has been like, even those in my own household, so once more, it feels a lonely and heavy weight. I threw the nets where I believed the Lord was directing me and yet, here I sit with them empty once more. In the days since the phone call, I have been praying in the quiet, letting all of this sink in, and considering the next steps, as the name, Emmanuel has been echoing through the silence …

God with us.

Friends, this is our hope always but, most especially during a Christmas season when circumstances are difficult and we are unsure what to do next. We can remember the fact that Jesus, the very Son of God, humbled Himself and came to Earth in the form of a baby. We can ponder the works He did and the words He spoke as He walked this world. We can consider the depth of His sacrifice on the cross as He suffered and died on our behalf so that we could be free from sin and death. We can rest and rejoice in the fact that He rose from the dead and now sits at the right hand of God the Father, interceding on our behalf.

Because we believe this to be true, based on the Word of God, we are never alone, no matter the circumstances, challenges, or trials we face. He is our source of comfort and strength. He will fill our empty nets in His time and in His way.

Emmanuel … God with us.

Jesus is still in the boat.

Rewiring …

December 1, 2019December 1, 2019 / walkingthisjourneysite / 2 Comments

This blog has been silent for some time now. I am still here in my little corner of the world and, every once in a awhile, I do open up the blog page, type some words, and then give up. It simply has not been a season for writing.

It has been a season of difficulty.

It has been a season of transforming growth.

It has a season of walking through various storms.

It has been, and continues to be, a season of developing the discipline of obedience.

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I have mentioned a number of times in the course of writing and sharing my thoughts, that I am prone to being a fearful, anxious sort of person. I have also shared the lessons the Lord has taught me on this life’s journey as I have battled these tenacious foes of mine.

This isn’t a competition but it might be helpful for readers to realize that I am not speaking lightly when I say that my life is rooted in fear. It has been from the get-go. As a infant/toddler, loud noises and especially loud men would startle me into hysterics. Social fears thrived before I even knew what fear was. I searched for safety wherever I could find even the vaguest hint of it and when it eluded me, I shut down inside. Life as a teenager, navigating the public school setting, while being a part of an ultra-conservative, legalistic church, and growing up in a family where there certainly was love, but also much brokenness and grief, was challenging for a frightened young person like myself.

I am now 46 years old and as I look back over the course of this lifetime, I recognize that every life decision I have ever made, has been rooted in fear. Every decision was, in actuality, a desperate and frantic grab for security. I have spent a lifetime seeking safety.

In light of that, it should not come as a surprise that I have long battled anxiety, depression, and intense fear for most of those years. It should come as no surprise that my mind simply could not function in adulthood when life began to shatter beneath the weight of past experiences and expectations, the results of my poor life-decisions, and added stressors and demands, such as autism, motherhood, and isolation.

I am a believer – a child of the Living and Holy God. He gave me a new heart when I asked Him into my life as a six year old child.

I still lived with constant fear. I did not know anything different nor how to be different.

I have cried out to Him since I was a child and pleaded with Him to change my life … to change the circumstances so I would not have to live in so much fear. But He never changed my life and in fact, allowed it to become considerably harder…

Because it was not my life that needed changed … it was me.

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Twelve years ago last month, we moved into our present home. It is a rather dilapidated old farm house that sits on top of four lovely acres of land. I love my home however, once we moved in, we began to experience a number of electrical issues. We realized that the wiring of this house had never been updated and much of the house still functioned with an old-fashioned, fuse-style system. It was a system that serviced the house well enough many years ago, but with the heavy demands of a modern young family, which included an autistic child who always needed the lights and television on, it had trouble keeping up. Fuses would blow constantly, which would require a trip to the dark and creepy basement to replace.

After numerous issues and with much prompting, my husband and a family friend put in a new and updated breaker box, disconnecting that old fuse box for good. The wiring into the new breaker box was neat, everything was labeled, and for a time, our electrical issues were a bit more quiet.

But over time, other issues began to arise. The old wiring in the electrical outlets couldn’t handle the demand placed on them and a number of times, we would smell the wires burning inside of them. My husband, given his natural approach to life, would simply disconnect that outlet and place electrical tape over it, as opposed to replacing and fixing the problem. We learned the relatively ‘safe’ demands of certain outlets and which kitchen appliances could not be used at the same time and which light switches should be avoided. In time, it became abundantly clear that while the breaker box was new, the wiring throughout the rest of the house was all old … prone to overloading and dysfunction, unable to cope with the heavy demands and stressors our modern lives have placed on it.

Frankly, my home needs to be completely rewired.

In an ideal world, we would be able to do just that, but in our reality, it simply isn’t possible. However, over the years, as issues arise, others have stepped in and helped replace some of that old wiring. Some things work better but there is still much to do.

So we have a new breaker box and an old wiring system that is slowly being transformed, all with the understanding that we will always been working on it.

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Are you catching where I am going with this? Jesus gave me a new heart as a child, but because we live in a broken world, my old wiring is still in me and quite faulty. I lived much of life reacting and responding with this faulty wiring system and, as the demands of life grew greater, that old system simply couldn’t keep up.

I did what was necessary at the time, which included medication and counseling. But in my situation, that mostly only had the affect of disconnecting a burning outlet and covering it electrical tape. The platitudes and mostly shallow words of a therapist sometimes provided a temporary relief, as did the comforting Bible verses I clung to and my often self-focused prayers. Unfortunately however, none of it ever addressed the real issues … the faulty wiring hidden inside the walls I had built to protect myself so long ago.

Then I gave birth to my third child, my long-awaited daughter. I was barely surviving as I pushed through those days with the heavy demands of a four year old autistic son who never slept, an 18 month old son, and a newborn daughter. I did not have help and honestly, I can’t even remember those days. I was ‘surviving’ but the fragile infrastructure inside of me was imploding. The old wiring and my old way of thinking and responding to life was destroying me from the inside out.

Then the One who had sacrificed His life so that I could have a new heart and a new life stepped in once more and over the course of the last ten or so years, I have been in a rewiring process. As issues arise, the Lord — and certain people He placed in my life — have been quietly and behind the scenes, walking me through learning to recognize the faulty systems and then guiding me to seek and obey His expertise and wisdom. The Lord has often replaced my old wiring with His wiring … changing the way I perceive situations in life and how I respond. It has been a long, slow, and often painful process … but it is the process necessary to be transformed. This is what the Apostle Paul writes of in Romans 12: 1,2 …

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy,
to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—
this is your true and proper worship.
Do not conform to the pattern of this world,
but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—
his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

This is what the Christian journey is about. It absolutely has been the very definition of my journey … being transformed for the glory of God, as I am called to die to self and my old wiring, and then coming alive and changed in Him and by His grace alone.

^“I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live,
but Christ lives in me;
and the life which I now live in the flesh I live
by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me.”
Galatians 2:20

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This is why I have been silent lately. The rewiring process over these last months has been especially intense and increasingly difficult. I have had to face and deal with certain situations that were reaching crisis level because I have avoided them for so long. I have had to confront others and I have had to confess and repent of my own hidden bitterness. Each day I have been facing what appear to me to be insurmountable tasks and challenges … and in each of these, I am learning to be obedient to the Lord. I simply do the next thing and trust Him to provide and handle the rest.

I am coming to trust completely in the faithfulness of the Holy God who has never allowed me to stray too far and has loved me beyond my comprehension.

Do I still feel fear? Absolutely. Fear is my ‘thorn in the flesh‘, but what I am learning now is that it teaches me a humble reliance on my Savior. Instead of responding to it with my own instincts, He is teaching me to trust Him in my weakness and to be responsible for my responses. If I need some support, I seek it out, whether it be Godly counsel or something else. More than anything however, I am finding strength, help, and encouragement from the Lord and often challenging words from Scripture such as these from the Apostle Paul in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 …

“Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me—to keep me from exalting myself! Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.”

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Speaking of fear in this manner is hard … much more so than I can express in this present season of life. But more than anything, I desire to honor this amazing, gracious, and loving God who sustains me through every day and I long for others to see and know His transforming love as well. So therefore, I will boast of my weakness so that the power of Christ may dwell in me …

**As you read these words, consider that this is only a dusting, a very topical writing, of my personal journey. There is so much more that simply doesn’t fit in a blog post. Our journeys and our stories will be different, but maybe you’ll find something worth gleaning within these words. If nothing else, I hope I have pointed you towards God … the only One who can change and transform broken lives, creating His beauty from our ashes.**

His Mercies are New Every Morning

October 20, 2019October 20, 2019 / walkingthisjourneysite / Leave a comment

Guilt.

There is an appropriate time and place for guilt. When we have done wrong, that sense of guilt can be God-given and God-honoring if we respond rightly. If we are Christians, the Holy Spirit convicts us for the purpose of repentance, restoration, and redemption.

We repent, God forgives, we move on … it is that simple.

As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.
Psalm 103:12

For many of us, however, it isn’t always that simple. Some of us walk our journeys with the weight of guilt and shame bundled in heavy sacks across our shoulders. It impacts every step we take. It clouds every thought. It makes the day to day tasks even more exhausting. It is a brutal way to live.

Sometimes people speak highly of us and while we are appreciative of the kind words, inwardly we cringe and think, ‘Oh, if they only knew.’

How often have we said or heard another woman say, ‘I should have handled that differently’ or ‘I should have made a different decision’ or ‘Maybe I should have done this instead’ or ‘If only I had …’?

How many of us build walls and hide ourselves from people around us as a result?

Probably more than we realize.

I’ve been pondering and working through these thoughts for years but more intensely over the last few weeks as I have been entrenched in an ugly battle with anxiety and fear. The kind that awakens the old gremlins in my stomach so they start tearing me apart as though they are trying to escape. The kind of battles that refuse to let me sleep as my brain relentlessly recounts all the times I have messed something up. The kind that make me afraid to write because I feel like a sham. The kind that makes me afraid to talk with people because I feel worthless. The kind that drives me into the deepest recesses of my mind so I can hide from everything.

This is me. This is the battle I have been fighting my entire life.

Every decision in my life has been made out of fear. Every decision I have avoided making has been due to fear. Literally every step in my life has been dictated by fear.

That much fear cultivates the soil perfectly for guilt seeds to thrive.

Those guilt seeds, in a sensitive-natured person like myself, quickly become an overgrown weedy patch of shame … which, in turn, triggers a whole lot more anxiety and fear.

Talk about a nasty cycle.

I have a series I’ve been contemplating writing that would highlight the lessons God is teaching me through all of this … but for today, I want to share only a few thoughts that might be useful for someone else.

Sometimes we carry guilt simply because our perspective of a situation is wrong.

Sometimes we carry guilt for sins not confessed.

Sometimes we carry guilt for sins confessed but our pride refuses to release.

Let me share a personal example as an illustration …

When my son was diagnosed with autism years ago, there were still articles and people around that blamed the mother for autism. ‘Refrigerator Mother’ was still a relatively common term. There were (and are) still plenty of articles and people around who will blame a mother if her child doesn’t progress well on the autism journey.

I carried guilt for years that my son’s autism was my fault. I carried guilt for years that the severity of my son’s autism was my fault. That guilt I carried never allowed me to simply grieve the diagnosis so we could live the life we had been given.

Logically I can understand that I did not cause my son’s autism. But the guilt I carried, compounded by my fearful/selfish nature and other difficult life circumstances, caused me to make decisions (or avoid making decisions) that may have impacted my son’s autism journey.

To carry guilt that my son has autism is foolish. That is a guilt that was never mine to carry.

However, I am responsible for what I did after the diagnosis … and yes, I do tend to carry a lot of guilt because I know I could have handled things better. It took years for me to learn how to be his mother and love him well. We have grown up together in many ways.

Now, to confess poor decisions from the past before the Lord is wise and the correct thing to do. To continually beat myself up over past poor decisions is foolish and is mostly likely a sign of pride.

Here is another example …

My attends a private autism school while I homeschool his siblings. I used to struggle with guilt that I was sending him away even though I knew he needed the resources that a specialized school could provide and I needed those resources as well. This was a misplaced guilt.

However, if I don’t attend meetings or implement behavioral strategies at home, then guilt would be valid. But sending him to an environment where he can best learn and then investing that time into his siblings is not a valid occasion for guilt.

Does that make sense?

Lamentations 3 has been a source of encouragement to me on this journey and I want to share it here so these beautiful words of hope might encourage someone else.

Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness. Surely my soul remembers and is bowed down within me.
This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope.
The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,“Therefore I have hope in Him.”
The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him.
It is good that he waits silently for the salvation of the Lord.
Lamentations 3:19-26

It is important to spend time with the Lord concerning issues that invite a sense of guilt or shame. Sometimes it is even helpful to talk them through with a wise and trustworthy counselor, Pastor, or friend who can share insight that we may not see. Where there is sin to be confessed, we absolutely need to do so and then leave it at the cross. If the sense of guilt or shame is not rooted in sin, then we need to learn to speak truth into the lies and walk freely.

It is imperative to learn how to discern between God-given guilt due to sin and our human tendency to feel of guilt/shame concerning issues that have nothing to do with sin.

However, in each and every case, we need to remember that the Lord’s lovingkindness never ceases and His mercies are new every morning.

Every day is a new opportunity to make wise decisions.

Every day is a new opportunity to do the right thing.

Every day is a new opportunity to choose not to define our lives by misplaced guilt and shame from the past but to find our identity in Christ alone.

Great is His faithfulness!

All to Jesus I Surrender?

October 19, 2019October 19, 2019 / walkingthisjourneysite / Leave a comment

Many of us who grew up in more conservative churches are likely familiar with the old hymn, ‘All to Jesus I surrender‘ as it was often part of countless altar calls at the end of services. However, even as a young person, whether I was singing along in the congregation or providing the accompaniment with the piano, I struggled with the words. The words of this hymn are serious and intentional, which caused me to worry about singing them glibly or lightly. I was concerned the day would come that God would challenge me with them.

He has. Over and over.

What follows is something I wrote a number of years ago during a particularly rough season with my autistic son. It popped up in the memories of my Facebook today and I thought I would share them here as I once again ask the Lord … Is this really how I live?

‘All to Jesus, I surrender, All to Him I freely give.’
But, truly God, I have to wonder,
Is this really how I live?

If I would ask the folks around me
What they see me say and do,
Would they even be able to notice,
If I’ve surrendered all to you?

And You, dear Lord,
The One who claims me for His own
You see my hidden places
You know my secret thoughts

When I sing those words so lightly
Without thought or regards to You
What do You think, my Father,
Are the words I sing even true?

I sang those words last night,
Or at least, I really tried.
But all I could see
Were the parts of me not yet crucified.

The hidden places,
The silent thoughts,
The broken dreams,
The prideful heart.

I gazed into my soul
And frankly was dismayed
For it is certainly very clear
That wholly surrendered, I am not

So, dear Lord, I think the song for me
Really needs to be
‘All to Jesus, I long to surrender
Teach me Savior to freely give’

For honestly, dear God,
I can’t do this on my own
But I know that You can change me
And make my life, your own.

*All to Jesus I Surrender written by Judson W. Van de Venter (1855-1939)*

Tracing His Rainbow Through the Rain

August 18, 2019August 18, 2019 / walkingthisjourneysite / Leave a comment

I entered my morning of meetings somewhat cautiously, nervous about the things we would be discussing and unsure of what lies ahead for my son.

My oldest child is severely impacted with autism and he attends a private autism school almost an hour from our home. On this particular morning, I had many questions as his teachers and I discussed the progress of this past year and the changes in store for the year(s) ahead.

My son is 18 years old and typically young people this age would have graduated high school earlier this year and would be getting ready for college, trade school, or the workforce. But given the extent of his autism and the depth of his needs, my son will continue in his present school setting until the age of 21.

I would be lying if I told you I was completely okay with this.

I would be lying if I told you that watching his neuro-typical peers graduate high school, have beautiful senior pictures taken, attend prom, and be recognized for their achievements didn’t stir any sadness at all in me.

I would also be lying if I said I was completely unfazed by the ones presently heading off to college and new adventures.

I have been troubled, but I have hidden it. I wouldn’t even allow myself to think about it over these last months. I told myself it was just one more milestone that is triggering a sense of grief but, because I felt guilty for the sadness and didn’t want to invite any pity, I blocked it.

Yet, on this day, as families around us were taking their children for their first year of college, I was sitting in meetings discussing medication, significant behavioral issues, basic first grade math and reading skills, another year of school, and a very uncertain (i.e. frightening/unknown) future for my eighteen year old … and I was torn.

I felt torn as my deeply hidden grief wrestled with my desire to live thankfully. My son has been in this wonderful school for only a few years but the growth has been significant. I know that many who are as severely affected as he, do not have this kind of support/instruction and I remember well how God had led us to this point.

I have much for which to be thankful.

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Yet, as I listened to the teachers explain about his new classroom and the new program he would be entering with the start of the school year, I felt a sense of anxiousness. He is entering a special program that his school has developed to help prepare their students for life after school. It will be a big step and will bring a lot of changes and new challenges.

I learned that part of the program includes work-based learning and specialized staff will find various volunteer work for him to do so they can expose him to a variety of skills and learn what kind of work he will enjoy the most.

I also learned that we have other new members on his team including a career developer and a career specialist. These two will be focused completely on learning all about my son, working with area businesses, and developing a ‘career’ especially designed for him with special considerations for his abilities and needs. The hope is that, once he does graduate at 21, he will already be settled in a suitable job situation.

As all of this new information swept through my mind, I had a moment where the Lord spoke quietly into my thoughts. He knows every step of the journey leading up to this moment, He knows every drop of sadness I have been hiding, and He knows the fears I have for the future … and as I considered all these things and more, I found myself saying out loud, “Tyler gets his adventure too.”

His peers are heading off to college or entering the military or workforce. Their years of schooling have prepared them for their next step in life. These last few years have also prepared my son for his next step in life and while it may look different from the typical young adult, it is still new … a step forward.

Yes, it requires an entire team of school staff, specialists, anxiety medication, behavioral therapy, speech therapy, occupational therapy, and considerable time, work, patience, and perseverance … but God has been preparing us for this season of life as well.

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That evening, as I pondered the years a whole and reflected on the information shared in the meetings, these words came to mind ~ ‘Trace the Rainbow Through the Rain’ ~ It almost seemed a command from the Lord so I began to pray as I sang this verse of the song, ‘O Love that will not let me go’

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

This is the verse that always brings a mist to my eyes when we sing it in our church service. These are the words that best describe my personal journey through, not only loving and raising a child with autism, but so many other challenges as well.

And these were the words the Lord brought to mind in this moment.

I began to ponder the years past and considered all that God had done in the midst of some incredibly difficult seasons. I considered the present and the very real hard situations that continue to be a part of every day life and even though there are hardships that must be faced daily, the presence of God has been and continues to be unmistakable.

I have learned that grief and peace can travel hand in hand when one walks with God.

I have learned that He is there even when He seems silent.

I have learned that He is working even when all seems lost.

I have also learned that life doesn’t always go the way we would like.

I traced His rainbow through the rain and lifted my eyes once more to the One who holds my life in His hands … and I know His promises remain true on both the stormy days and the ones filled with sunshine.

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I don’t know what difficult situation you might be facing or what may lay hidden in your past, but I can well imagine. Maybe there are significant dysfunctional family issues. Maybe a family member who is living with addiction and continually making choices that destroy their lives and hurt their loved ones. Maybe there is a long-term harmful cycling of behavior in a broken marriage. Maybe it is a personal issue of sin that you just can’t seem to conquer. Maybe a heart-breaking diagnosis and the loss of one you hold dear. Maybe it is a combination of many of these things, as is true for me, or maybe something so much harder.

If you are a follower of Christ, then I invite you to also take some time and trace His rainbow through the rains of your own life.

It is a worthwhile exercise and it serves as a reminder to be thankful for His past mercies and to trust Him for every tomorrow.

~”O Love that will not let me go” written by George Matheson~

Dear Self …

August 5, 2019 / walkingthisjourneysite / Leave a comment

“Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life … Let your eyes look directly ahead and let your gaze be fixed straight in front of you. Watch the path of your feet and all your ways will be established.”
Proverbs 4:23,25-26

I have another blog post or two in the works that I thought I would be sharing by now but these last days have just been so heavy, I’m not ready to share those yet. I actually wasn’t going to write at all, but I decided that I needed to write to myself tonight.

I have to remind myself who God is.

I have to remind myself who I am in Him.

I have to remind myself that evil will not win in the end.

I have to remind myself that I can’t fix everything, nor should I try.

I have to remind myself that despite the horror in current news, despite the gossip and bitter lies I read on social media, despite the personal grief I am carrying in my own heart …

I have to remind myself about the truth of the goodness of my God.

“I shall remember the deeds of the Lord: Surely I will remember Your wonders of old. I will meditate on all Your work and muse on Your deeds. Your way, O God, is holy; what god is great like our God? You are the God who works wonders; You have made known Your strength among the peoples.”
Psalm 77:11-14

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I sat at my desk for hours today trying to plan out the upcoming school year. I will have a ninth grader and a tenth grader that I am homeschooling, while my oldest son will continue at his private autism school. There are so many demands, variables, and changing factors in my family’s life, which fall on my shoulders, that it often seems an impossible task to plan and keep life running somewhat smoothly. So today I thought, I planned, I read, but mostly I stressed silently inside until I made myself almost sick.

I listened to my own anxious thoughts as I looked at all the papers scattered about, the books, the syllabuses, the plans, and the 100 open tabs on my lap top, before I finally stopped.

This is exactly what I am not supposed to do.

I have a bad tendency to try and figure everything out on my own until I find myself crushed beneath the weight of my own expectations.

I have to remind myself that the Holy Spirit who lives in me will guide and direct the way as I lead my children on our mutual journeys through life. I don’t have to carry these burdens alone and I don’t have to have all the answers to all the uncertainties of life.

I just have to follow where He leads.

“Search me, O God and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way.”
Psalm 139:23-24

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When I look at the darkness around me and feel the weight as I have been lately, it is easy to give into despair and entertain a sense of hopelessness…

When my oldest son struggles with his moods and behaviors…

When I fear the future…

When my other children ache beneath the load they have been called to bear…

When I hear a diagnosis …

When the loneliness of a isolated journey threatens to crush the very breath out of my lungs…

When I am tempted to complain …

When I feel second-best …

When I feel unwanted …

When evil seems to win …

I remind myself who God is.

I take my eyes off of me and the circumstances I face, and I look to the very One who chose me, died for me, and indwells me today. He changes my perspective as He fills me over and over again with His endless supply of strength and grace.

“Nevertheless I am continually with You; You have taken hold of my right hand, With Your counsel You will guide me, and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
Psalm 73:23-26

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So here I sit after a time of remembrance, reflection, repentance, and confession and my outlook is different.

The circumstances have not changed and when I step away from my computer tonight, some of the weight will still be pressing on my soul.

But I make a choice to follow my God and His ways …

And trust Him in the midst of it all.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. The the Peace of God which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.”
Philippians 4:6-8

Dear Self … Press on.

Dear Reader … Press on.

Thoughts From My Flower Beds

July 15, 2019July 15, 2019 / walkingthisjourneysite / Leave a comment

In the silence of the early morning hours, I slipped outside with a mug of hot coffee in one hand and my gardening gloves in the other. With a sense of purpose to my steps, I made my way down to the bank in front of my home and beside the road. It was this bank that sat neglected for years until I decided to tackle it this past spring. I wrote a little about that process here -> Where Beauty Dwells

When I finished that job a couple of months ago, it was the neatest it had ever been. The weeds were gone, flowers were added, and all of it was carefully covered in mulch. The difference was amazing and I was quite pleased with the result of my labors and soon moved on to other projects and life responsibilities.

In the first few weeks after the completion of the job, I would take a few minutes here and there to stop by and pull little weeds as they popped up. But then life got a bit crazier and you know, I didn’t give that bank much thought. The project was done and I had other things to do … surely all the work I had put into it was enough.

Now in the morning’s quiet, I figured I could get the bank cleared out again in no time.

Oh, but those weeds that I had worked so hard to eradicate had taken over once more …

Vines spreading all over, poison ivy everywhere I looked, and my sweet flowers all but choked out.

It did not matter how much work I had put into that bank just a couple of months ago. It did not matter how well-cared for it had been or how lovely it had been with the addition of colorful flowers. Just a brief time of neglect was all that was needed to revert back to its old ways.

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Every time I pull weeds, I am reminded of my own sin nature.

Sin is just as pervasive and resilient as the weeds in my flower beds.

We go to church and we dedicate our lives to God. We confess every sin we can think of and we walk away feeling so much cleaner … so much nicer.

We work through a Bible study and as the Holy Spirit reveals hidden parts of our nature, we pledge to eradicate them from our lives. We are refreshed and renewed.

We attend a conference or a weekend retreat. We feel challenged and encouraged and convinced we’ve got this Christian life figured out.

Then we get caught up in our crazy lives and we have the best of intentions to read our Bibles every day and talk to the Lord every day … and we really do intend to keep an eye out for those weeds of sin that we ripped from our lives.

But what happens?

One day we notice something … our hearts are overcome with sin once more and the loveliness of Christ is being choked out.

Just a bit of neglect allows our hearts to revert to its old ways.

I find this the most disheartening thing.

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As I worked on the bank and pulled at the weeds, I became aware of the amount of poison ivy that had become very pervasive. I realized that I was not dressed appropriately to battle poison ivy and if I continued, I would soon be covered by a terrible rash.

I admit, I was briefly tempted to take my chances and just continue with the fight but my extensive history with this notorious plant cautioned me that this would be a grave mistake. One that I would deeply regret.

So I returned to the house and dressed until I was completely covered. Then I pulled on two sets of gloves before returning to the battle. Appropriately armed for the fight gave me an advantage to fight aggressively against my foe. I knew if I was well-protected, the harmful effects of the poison would not cause me great harm. I could easily still be touched by the poison as it has gone through clothing before, but I knew if I was properly protected, the effects would be minimal.

So with sin I must be properly prepared and armed for my battles against it.

Ephesians 6 reminds us that we must be strong in the battle against sin and to do so, we must be fully dressed in the armor of Christ…

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 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. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.”
Ephesians 6:10-18

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As I pulled the weeds in my bank along the road, I noticed that some had very shallow roots and they came out quite easily. Others were deeply entrenched and took a lot of muscle power to pull. Still others were connected by intricate and strong vine systems that made it almost impossible to remove.

I found this so convicting.

As I pulled each weed, I asked the Lord to show me those kinds of sins in my life. The superficial shallow ones that can be addressed fairly easily. The ones that have grown so deeply into my nature and personality that it requires diligent muscle power to pull. And the ones that are connected deep below the surface … these are the ones that spread and take over, often without me realizing it.

I am convinced the Lord loves these kinds of prayers because the Holy Spirit has been working overtime on this heart of mine! And, as always, it is a pretty rough process.

On a side note, I am also convinced that if we talk to the Lord (or other people) more about the sins and faults of another than talking to Him about our own sins … something is wrong. We have to honestly deal with the big ol’ log in our own eye first.

So the Lord has been graciously shedding His light on the weeds that I have allowed to take root and grow. Deep, entangling vine-like sins such as bitterness and resentfulness. I have had to confess these over and over the last few weeks as I have been walking through some deep trenches with my family. My personal poison ivy is probably the sin of envy and no other season brings that out in me like summer time when I see what typical families get to do together. It is a deeply rooted sin that continually needs addressed.

But what about the more shallow sins that most of us might not recognize to be sin? Well, if the Lord convicts us about it, it becomes sin. For me, I have noticed my old use of sarcasm coming alive again. Is sarcasm sinful? Maybe not for you but in many situations, the Lord challenges me and convicts me every time it slips out. I have become more and more aware that the Lord wants my words to be careful and sure … guarded, if you will. Carefully seasoned with truth and gracious. The Bible is full of verses that caution the use of our tongue and for me, I feel a strong conviction to guard my words carefully. But oh so often, those words slip out and the Spirit sends a sharp word of rebuke as He yanks that weed of sin out.

Sigh … you know, it is never ending work to keep those weeds out of my flower beds. I have resigned myself that is part of living in a broken world.

It is also a never ending task to keep sin out of my life. It requires constant vigilance and even more humility. It is never easy to submit to the Lord and watch as He allows me to sin so I can recognize my own human frailty and absolute dependence on Him.

After all, He died so that I might be free from sin … how wonderful is it that I can be dependent on Him?

There is great satisfaction as I look over my flower beds and see the beauty of my labors. I am always glad I have done the work and removed the weeds. Even if I know I will have to do it over and over again.

Can I submit to you that there is an even greater satisfaction and peace when the Lord removes sin from the flower bed that is my heart and mind? It is never easy nor is it ever fun … but the end result is worth the cost.

Just some thoughts from my flower beds.

The Brown Bird's Song

Abiding Acres Farm

Anxiety

Come and Dine

Some Golden Daybreak – for me, for you

More

Jesus is Still in the Boat

Rewiring …

His Mercies are New Every Morning

All to Jesus I Surrender?

Tracing His Rainbow Through the Rain

Dear Self …

Thoughts From My Flower Beds