"What Are You Thinking?" When the Foolishness of God is Wiser - Making Hard Decisions That Go Against the Flow

“What are you thinking?”

 “Are you serious?”

“Are you sure that’s the right decision?”

“What about your kids?” (or your space, your stuff, your place, your time, your . . .)

They get that confused look on their face as we share our news. “Foolishness,” they might think. “Crazy!” “I could never do that!”

You’d think we were announcing something radical like shaving our heads and joining a nudist colony or something. But nope, that’s definitely NOT our news!

We’re moving.

It’s that simple. We are selling our 2600 square foot house in a nice neighborhood to move back into our 1300 square foot older home across the state line.  We will go from four bedrooms to three, from three bathrooms to two, from a quarter acre to about a tenth of an acre, from a finished basement to a “Michigan basement.” We will go from bigger to smaller.

This is not the norm. This is not the expected, and therefore not the accepted. In America, we have the American Dream. We are always looking out for me first. We are constantly thinking about how to get ahead, how to have our cake and eat it too. Bigger. Better. Faster. Flirtier. More expensive. More extravagant!

We see the raised eyebrows, hear the whispers, feel the pity. Did something happen? Are they okay? Can they not afford it anymore?

It’s foolishness. Simply the foolishness of God. 1Corinthians 1:25 states that the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom.

Man’s wisdom says bigger. God’s foolishness says smaller. Man’s wisdom says me first. God’s foolishness says others first. Man’s wisdom says get ahead. God’s foolishness says to steward well what you have and look toward the future reward.

To be honest, in my own humanness, this is not a decision I would make. But when I look through the glasses of the foolishness of God, I can see clearly the eternal wisdom of this choice. Selling now, will give us the opportunity to be debt free and the freedom to save, serve, and spend the resources we’ve been entrusted with in the ways God calls us to.

Will it be hard? Yes. But friends, I’ve learned that I can do the hard things if I know it makes God smile. Will it be challenging? Yes. But He gives more grace! Will it be emotional? Absolutely! Who wants to leave their place of comfort and memories?

I’ve struggled with this decision. I’ve cried. I’ve started a grieving process that will take me a while. But I’ve also found peace – a peace that surpasses even my understanding.

As humans, throughout our lives, we make decisions. Some easy. Some hard. Some make sense, and others don’t. My friends, whatever decision you’re facing, I pray you will seek and find the heart of God. Whether your choice does or doesn’t make sense in the wisdom of this world, I pray you will stand with resolve in the hard thing. Our choices may confuse our friends and even our family. But if we are walking in step with the Holy Spirit, we can rest assured that the foolishness of God is wiser! 

What Did I Do to Deserve . . . ?

I headed out on a walk/run this morning for the first time since I delivered our son. The sun had not yet risen. I turned on my playlist – the same one that played as I pushed through the fear and the pain to protect my baby and bring life into the world. A rush of emotions flooded back as I thought back to that day, and as I pushed my body, as my feet pounded the pavement, I remembered pushing, pushing pushing.

I thought about my little boy – in the months leading up to the day of his birth, he grew in my womb. He developed just as God designed; he rolled and tumbled and kicked me from the inside. Before I even met him, I was in love. And as of yet, he had done absolutely nothing to deserve that love. He hadn’t flashed me a gummy smile. He hadn’t gazed deep into my eyes. He hadn’t babbled or uttered the first “I wuv you.” But as I realized his life was in danger, I was willing to do anything. Anything! I loved my son already because of who he was – my son! And I wanted life for him.

As I continued my route this morning, my music began to serenade me the lyrics of “One Thing Remains/How He Loves.” And I began to ponder the cross – the cross that Christ pushed through. The pain. The agony. He pushed, pushed, pushed. And as of yet, we had done nothing to deserve that kind of love. We had not sung his praise. We had not lifted our hands to heaven. We had not told our neighbors of his greatness. He realized our lives were in danger, and Jesus was willing to do anything. Anything! He loved us already! While we were still sinners Christ died for us (Romans 5:8). And because of his great love for us, God who is rich in mercy made us alive with Christ while we were yet dead in our sins (Eph. 2:4). He love us not because of what we’ve done, but because of who we are – His creation, his children – and he wanted (and wants) life for us. Life, not death!

I pushed through the pain to bring my son life. And Christ pushed through the pain to bring us life. Me. You. Us. We are loved, friends. So greatly Loved!

"But it Hurts So Bad!" The Crucial Choice to Courageously Push Into the Pain or Hold Back in Fear

Thirteen hours! It has been thirteen hours of irregular contractions that had gotten stronger and led us to this point. This is not what I expected for the birth of our sixth son. None of my other labors had lasted this long, but it was finally time – finally time to push my little man into this world.

Finally, Time to Push

I assumed a comfortable (that term is relative) position in the birthing tub and waited for the next contraction. As it washed over me, I bore down into it just to the point of comfort. That’s what we had been taught in Bradley Classes and had worked before in our other births. I felt pressure and knew that was a good thing.

That contraction passed, and our midwife decided to get heart tones again. As she placed the probe on my belly, I breathed deep preparing myself for the next contraction. Lub dub, lub dub. My ears couldn’t escape the incredibly slow rate of the heartbeat of our little boy. I took a deep breath willing that the rate increase. It didn’t. My midwife assured me that it was just his descent through my pelvis and didn’t seem too worried.

The next contraction started to build, and I inhaled before bearing down again. I felt the familiar burn as his head came lower. I opened my eyes and caught my breath about to push again, when I noticed a bright red gush of blood. (Being a nurse, my brain immediately went into diagnosis mode.) I knew I hadn’t torn since he was not yet crowning. The only other probability of that kind of bleeding was that his placenta had detached as I was pushing. Suddenly, I realized that our little boy still inside me was no longer receiving oxygen from my body. The only way to help him at this point was to get him out and get him out fast!

Pushing Through

I didn’t even wait for the next contraction before starting to push again. His head descended and began to crown. The pressure, the burning! Guttural instinct made me want to wince and hold back. It hurt so bad! But I knew in this moment, the best way to protect my child was to push into that pain, no matter the cost to myself. I took another breath and began to roar like a mamma grizzly as I pushed into all of that pressure. My body stretching, burning, aching. I was scared, but I knew that in this moment, courage must overcome that fear. Bravery must prevail.

The worship music that I had playing provided encouragement for me to grasp as I let out a gasp and pushed again. Finally, his head emerged. The midwife was now instructing me to continue pushing to release his shoulders and abdomen. I heard the intensity in her tone and knew I could not rest just yet. Another breath, and this push took everything I had. His shoulders corkscrewed and released, and he slipped into my husbands waiting hands. The midwife helped to untangle a tight cord around his neck before I was able to lift him out of the water and bring him close.

Is He Okay?

When he emerged, he did not gasp, he did not grunt. He was blue, flaccid, and floppy. We immediately started rubbing his back, stimulating his little body for some sort of response. The midwife felt his cord, and his heart rate was present, but low. Panic rose in my chest. Had I done enough? Was he going to be okay? I wanted to cry, but the time was not right. We needed to get him breathing. The midwife started to pull out her resuscitation equipment. Another few seconds passed and then a mew, a grunt, a grimace. We were getting a response. That first cry allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. His tone and his color were improving. He was going to be okay!

My son is now five-days-old and is doing well. It has taken me a while to process through this birth experience – so different from all of my others, and not exactly what I expected or dreamed for our last  birth, but as I’ve prayed and thought through the painful and fearful aspects of this birth, I’ve come to realize that the decision I was faced with that day is a decision that I’m faced with many days of my life.

When something hurts me, I have a choice to push into that pain in strength and courage or retreat in fear and self-preservation.

The Choices We Face

We all face these choices. The pain we encounter isn’t always physical like the pain of childbirth. Sometimes it’s the wounds from words or actions of a spouse, a parent, a close friend. It might be a disappointment of a dream unfulfilled – an engagement or marriage that falls through, the dream house that couldn’t be financed, the job that you were let go from, the empty arms when you long for a child. Maybe it's the pregnancy that was not in your plans or you're facing a chronic disease that does cause physical pain, fears, and so many unknowns. It could be you've lost a loved one, and the thought of continuing alone is terrifying. Or maybe it's an upcoming opportunity that is causing nervous fear that you might fail – a talent show, a job interview, a promotional venture, or a big move.

In each place that we are confronted with pain and fear, we are also met with a choice: to push into or run away from.

I don’t like to presume the worst, but in the case of the birth of our son, had I not risen to that challenge and pushed through the pain, he very well could have wound up brain injured due to lack of oxygenation. Or worse, it may have resulted in his death. And my lack of pushing through that pain in the moment would have caused tremendously more pain in the long run. My holding back would have been more comfortable for me in the moment, but it could have caused permanent pain on behalf of my son – or in my own heart had I lost him.

So what do I do when we face these fearful and painful circumstance and it’s easier to want to run?

Courage over Fear:

Realize Fear is About Me, Not Others

My desires to hold back my efforts in pushing were to facilitate my own comfort. Had I given into fear, it would have been all about me. I loved my son. I wanted what’s best for him. In order to push past the fear, I had to get my eyes off myself and consider my son as more important that me (Phil.2:3-4). 

Realize I’m Not Alone

One of the verses that continued to come up during my labor and birth was Isaiah 41:10. “Do not fear for I am with you. Do not be afraid for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you by my righteous right hand.” It’s easy to give into fear when I think I’m all alone. In those moments of pain, I had to grasp onto the faith that God promised he would never leave me nor forsake me (Deut. 31:6). I could lean hard into him when I was afraid knowing that I was not on my own.

Realize That the Outcome Does Not Stop at Me

When our son finally emerged from the water and into my arms, I immediately faced fear again of whether I had done enough. I remember as a teen and young adult, my dad would encourage me to work like it all depended on me, but to trust like it all depended on God. Or my pastor would state that God’s sovereignty does not undermine man’s responsibility.

As I’ve grown in my understanding of these exhortations, I’ve realized that the truth of what they were saying was more balanced than I initially understood. My trust in God doesn’t give me a right to be passive and simply wait for him to move, and sometimes that’s the temptation. Okay, You’re God. If you’re in control, what are you going to do to get me out of this? But had I taken that approach in the birth of my son, he would have been oxygen starved much longer than he was. I had to work. I had to put in effort even though it hurt. Then, I had to trust God with the results.

When I work hard, and push into the pain in strength and courage rather than running away in fear, the results may not always turn out perfectly. Sometimes, I may walk away feeling like a failure. Many times, I may have more questions than answers. The friendship may never blossom again. The disease may take over and take my independence away and suck the life out of me. The job may fall through.

But if I don’t try, if I don’t take a stand in courage, if I’m unwilling to push through the pain, I may never know the joy of the new life it might bring about on the other side. Courage over fear, my friends. Courage over fear!

“Have I not commanded you to be strong and courageous? Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

(The song that’s playing in my head and heart!)

When my "Maybe Someday" Doesn't Happen and I'm Left Longing

When my first son was born, I was so ecstatic that it was a boy. My husband had his first-born-son, and with that desire of his fulfilled, I felt I could give in fully to my own desires for a girl. Each pregnancy as we would have our ultrasound and hear “It’s a boy!” that hope would dwindle just a little, but the hope was still there, nonetheless.

Through the past ten years of having only boys, I would come across pictures of little girls or moms with their daughters, and my own longings would rise of desiring to share in that kind of legacy myself. Most times, I would sigh and console myself with the thoughts of “Maybe Someday!”

Several weeks ago, I was scrolling through my Pinterest feed when I came across a little girl dressed in a sparkly blue princess dress who was just about to curtsy. That familiar ache rose into my chest, I immediately thought “Maybe Someday” and continued to scroll. Then I realized what I had just done, and my heart dropped as I reminded myself that it won’t be that "Maybe Someday" anymore. That season is over. We have six sons. This is God’s best for us, and there’s no more looking to the future of “someday” that my heart’s desire will be fulfilled.

I paused and pondered the ways I had consoled myself each time those longings surfaced. And I realized that my “Maybe Someday” thought was my heart grasping at the illusion of having a daughter as my ultimate fulfillment – my heaven on earth. Really, when I looked deeper into those dark corners and exposed my hopes for what they were, I saw the truth. I had been worshiping an idea of future perfection. I had been setting my sights on an ideal that may happen in the days to come and expecting that the fulfillment would bring me perfect joy, delight, and happiness.

I’ve found myself here before – worship, such an easy thing to misplace – idolatry, popping up in my life again. In my focus on my “Maybe Someday,” I was disregarding the one thing (Person) who is the very fulfillment of that piece of my heart that is missing. Jesus gives me himself – wholly and freely. Having a daughter could never fill that void.

In the past, it was my desire for a husband – then life would be perfect.

If I had a child – then I would feel whole.

If we owned our own home – then I could feel like I could rest.

If only I didn’t have to work and could stay at home – then I could find my identity.

If I could just lose those pounds – then I would feel confident.

But each time, when the desire was fulfilled, I still found myself longing for the next best thing. And in the moments that my “Maybe Someday” didn’t come to pass, I felt jaded, depressed, and overlooked.

My friends, our hearts were made for eternity. We were fashioned with a longing, a longing that cannot be fulfilled in completeness this side of heaven. We desire beauty, peace, rest, comfort, perfect love, and so much more. But these things, these gifts that we have been privileged to experience on this tangible earth that we walk are only an imitation at best of what our heart desperately needs. And Christ as the giver has provided that in himself, in the giving of his Holy Spirit to walk with us. Each time we settle for anything less, we are like the children C.S. Lewis talks about who settle for playing with mud pies when they have been offered and ocean vacation (TheWeight of Glory).

Maybe your desires aren’t like mine. Your “Maybe Someday” might be about escaping from a painful relationship, finding financial stability, desiring healing for a loved one, finding a close friend, seeing that child turn back to the faith, or God easing your own physical pain. None of these desires are wrong in and of themselves. It’s when we allow our hearts to idolize our “Maybe Someday” and expect that result to bring about our salvation or ultimate joy that we step over the line.

Jesus is here, longing to bless us far more abundantly than we could ask or imagine (Eph. 3:20). Your “Maybe Someday” may be fulfilled, and God may choose to gift you with a taste of himself in that way, but please don’t worship that gift. Glorify the giver!

Or like me, you may sit with empty hands and a “Maybe Someday” that will never be. Don’t let that pull your heart away from the only one who can fill it! We must realize that what our hearts long to experience maybe someday is not something we can find this side of eternity. Anything less than Jesus Christ, himself will leave us longing for more and cause us to idolize that for which we long.

Jesus offers himself. He is our perfect peace – even when life is not perfect. He gives us grace to do what is right – even when it is the last things we want to do. His strength is made perfect in our weakness. And when I am left with longings unfulfilled, he shows me that he is more than enough. 

It's Mother Day: Please Treat me Like a Goddess!

The alarm rang waking me from my slumber. I turned over and silenced it then sighed. It was Mother’s Day. I now had four little boys who were under my care. I smiled at the privilege of being called their mom. As I sat up and stretched, my mind filled with curious thought of what my husband had planned in order to celebrate me. Maybe flowers? Chocolates? A hot breakfast? I knew he would be heading to work soon—that’s the life of a firefighter—and I had already psyched myself up for taking four little boys to church on my own on Mother’s day. But I just knew he probably had done something to make me feel special. 

A Disappointing Surprise

I put on my house shoes and padded to the kitchen just as I heard the garage door close. I glanced around. Everything looked fairly normal. Standing on my tiptoes, I peered across the room to the dining room table. Nothing. I heard the rumble of my husband’s truck as he pulled out, and my heart fell to my stomach. No flowers. No chocolates. Nothing even set out for breakfast. To top it all off, he hadn’t even kissed me before he left or wished me happy Mother’s Day. Heat rose in my face as anger and great disappointment filled my chest. Forget it, I didn’t care anyway (or at least I tried to convince myself of such.) Time to be strong and get my boys ready for church!

Over the next hour, I bathed, fed, dressed and readied four boys (one still being a nursing infant) and myself for church. We were ready to go, and I glanced at the clock. I still had ten minutes. Fantastic! I realized I needed a moment to reset from the stress and disappointment of the morning, so I set the boys up with a movie and retreated to my room. 

A Moment to Reset

As I quieted my heart, I breathed deeply. I let my mind roam over what my expectations had been for the day. I work so hard all the time. Wasn’t Mother’s Day supposed to be a day to celebrate me? It was rare to hear gratitude throughout the year. My oldest was only five; he wasn’t aware of the sacrifice of motherhood, but didn’t I deserve at least some acknowledgement from my husband on today of all days? I followed David’s pattern from the Psalms “Pour out your heart to him, God is a refuge for us” (Psalm 62:8) and allowed my heart and my eyes to leak all the emotions of the morning. As I expressed my heart to my loving Jesus, He gently put His finger on a soft spot and pointed out a dangerous line that I was toeing.

It was Mother’s Day. It was also a Sunday. I was getting myself and my kids ready to head to church – to worship the God of the Universe with fellow believers. And here I was, sulking that I had not received accolades for my position as a mother. How sacrilegious! 

Idolatries in My Past

In the past, God had used various circumstances, speakers, or events to point out areas of idolatry in my life. Now, this didn’t look like the “household gods” described in the old testament. I hadn’t created a shrine for an idol and practiced worship in a formal sense. However, there had been areas of my life where I would find my comfort in things or activities rather than in God. For instance, I’ve always struggled with dealing with strong emotions, so I found it distracting and satisfying to grab a big bowl of ice cream or indulge in binge watching a favorite show or losing myself in a good novel. None of these things are wrong in themselves, but none of these things could fill or heal my heart the way Jesus could. And when I would run to these things first, I was putting them in the place of God. I was worshiping ice cream for how it made me feel. I was worshiping TV shows for how they helped me relax. I was worshiping novels for how they helped me escape. As Jesus had gently made me aware of these things in the past, I was able to work through confession and surrender and walk in new ways of seeking Him first to fill those emotional needs when I was struggling.

A Step Further: and not in a Good Direction

This time it was different. This time, I had taken a step further. I wasn’t worshiping some item or idea. I wanted to be the one my husband and sons were worshiping! My heart broke at the truth of what God was showing me. The reason I was so angry about no flowers, no chocolates, no breakfast, no “Happy Mother’s Day” was because I wanted to be the little “g” god in my family’s lives. 

Yet He Delights in Me!

In those last few moments before I ushered my sons out the door to church, I got down on my knees and confessed my pride, my arrogance, and my idolatry against my King. I was so grateful for His gentle conviction and began to praise him for who he was rather than claiming praise for what I had done. And Jesus spoke back to my heart: Hannah, I will never worship you, just as no one else should. But I want you to know that I delight in you, even when no one else does. (Zephaniah 3:17) At that moment, the chocolates and the flowers and the accolades no longer mattered. The King of the universe found delight in me!

Worshipping Him

I loaded the boys up and headed to church with a renewed joy. The morning wasn’t perfect. It was raining. I had three of my four boys splashing in puddles as we walked in the door. The infant cried through parts of Sunday school and church, getting the boys in the car was challenging, no one made me lunch, I didn’t get a nap, and my boys still didn’t realize it was Mother’s Day. But this Sunday truly was a delightful Mother’s day – because I chose to worship the God who made me a mother, and I realized that he delighted in me and my motherhood. And that’s what really mattered!

(By the way, the following day when my husband got off shift, he did wish me “Happy Mother’s Day” and bought me some flowers too!)

The Ultimate in Unplanned: And How to Respond

"For you formed my inward parts, 

you knitted me together in my mother's womb. 

I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made." 

Psalm 139:13-14

I saw the movie “Unplanned” last night. It’s one of the most poignant and thought-provoking films I have see in a long time. It’s not an easy one to watch, but it exposes truth – truth that is so desperately needed in our culture right now.

I feel the need to write. I feel the Spirit leading, and the time is ripe to get words out to those who are willing to read them The movie got me thinking and convicted my heart of complacency on my own part.

The Ultimate Unplanned Pregnancy

The ultimate in unplanned pregnancies was predestined before the beginning of the world. I cannot help but think of Mary, the mother of Jesus. She was a teenager – maybe 13-15 years old. She was engaged to be married, yet a virgin. Talk about shock when she hears from the angel that she will become pregnant. That might be expected for a young girl fooling around, it may be a surprise when her methods of “prevention” don't prevent. But Mary had to ask the question, HOW CAN THIS BE since I am a virgin? (See Luke 1:26-38) It defied logic. Talk about an unplanned pregnancy.

I’m sure Mary, after submitting herself to the will of God so gracefully, started wondering how she was going to tell her parents. What would Joseph think? There was a law that a woman pregnant outside of marriage should be stoned. Was she in danger? I’m sure she felt alone. Frightened – terrified even. She knew they would all find out eventually – when she didn’t separate herself as the law required when her time of woman came each month. I’m sure she questioned whether this was the right time for her to become a mother. She probably doubted whether she had what it would take to raise a son – much less the son of God!

And I started musing over the fact that God would choose a virgin to bear his son. Outside of the necessary fact of Jesus being separate from Adam’s seed, I wonder if God chose a virgin to give us a beautiful picture of grace in the midst of an “unplanned pregnancy.”

What if it Happened Today?

I cannot help but wonder what Mary would endure if today in our culture, in our country, she found herself in those circumstances – A member of a minority group, a very young teenager, she finds out she is pregnant and no one knows who the father is, part of a religious community that scorns shame and embarrassment. Would she find the support she needed? Or would she more likely be taken to a planned parenthood clinic to “take care of the problem?” We want our daughter to have a life and opportunities. No one will accept her, much less marry her if she has a child at her age. She’s not ready to become a mother. Her parents might think. Would they see an easy out in order to protect their daughter and themselves?

What about her friends? Would they encourage her to take a simple pill so her life can get back to normal? Would they repeat the lies in her ears that it’s just a blob of tissue and cannot feel anything at this point?

How Would I Respond?

What about me? Would I pray for her, encourage her, support her, take her to a Pregnancy care center, help her look into options and love her like Christ? Or like so many abortions happening in my neighboring cities each day, would I ignore it? It’s not my problem. I cannot solve a national crisis. It doesn’t affect me. It’s not my responsibility. And some might argue that scripture isn’t even clear on the matter of abortion. I really appreciate the perspective drawn out in this article to address that issue specifically.

The problem is, it would affect me and everyone else on the planet who ever lived. Getting rid of that "blob of tissue" would have destroyed the Savior of the world and denied the possibility of salvation through Christ. Each “Unplanned” pregnancy has the potential to change the world! (This is not denying the sovereignty of God and that his plans could not be thwarted. Using this example is simply to show how God can even use unexpected circumstances to bring himself ultimate glory.)

God's Grace through Joseph

But Joseph, being a righteous man, did not want to publicly shame Mary. He put her away quietly and protected both her dignity and was a crucial instrument in protecting the innocent, beautiful life of the Son of God. He didn’t listen to the culture. He didn’t fall prey to the expectations of his neighbors or his Rabbi. He didn’t follow the requirements so stringently placed on him by the “law.” And I’m sure he was ridiculed, probably lost friends and maybe even some of his standing as a Jewish man in Nazareth.

In so many ways, the ultimate in unplanned pregnancies is set before us as a beautiful example of how we should fight for and protect all unplanned pregnancies. We should be righteous people of God like Joseph was and be willing to accept the criticism and inconvenience of moving against the tide of our culture.

Ignorant No More

We cannot ignore this issue any more. More than likely, each one of us has been touched in one way or another by the issue of abortion. The blood of millions of babies are crying out to us from the ground, and what are we doing about it?

If you’re like me, for the longest time, I simply ignored it. I wasn’t the one working in the clinic killing these babies. I wasn’t convincing women this was their right. I wasn’t involved in an unplanned pregnancy of my own or my friends’. So I wasn’t guilty (or so I thought.) Yet, as I watched the movie last night, God convicted my heart that I am guilty – very guilty. My silence, my ignorance, my lack of prayer is an overarching acceptance of the way things are in our country. I am held responsible for the massive slaughter of infants in our country. And I am sure that if I stay silent, I will be held responsible in part when I stand before God in heaven one day – as will you!

What Can We Do?

So where do we go from here? How do we begin to go against the tide of our culture? How do we rise and fight with all that is in us against this horror?

1. Educate ourselves – see the movie Unplanned. Theaters and Showtimes Not only does this movie open our eyes to the truth behind the abortion industry, but it also shows the power of prayer, love, and grace. Each time we buy a movie ticket to a show like this, we are telling the theaters that we want this and movies like this playing in our community. If you’ve seen it already, take a friend that might be impacted as well!
   
2. PRAY! Nothing moves the heart of God like His people on their knees. Check out 40 Days for Life if you’re interested in something organized or make a commitment on your own or with a group of friends to spend a certain number of days crying out to God on behalf of the unborn babies who are at risk in our country.
   
3. Find your local pregnancy care centers. Donate money or time to come along side of them. They are feet on the ground caring for women with unplanned pregnancies. These centers need our financial support, our prayer support, volunteers, donations of goods and so much more.
   
4. Don’t condemn a friend who has had an abortion. Help her to find the help that she needs. Post abortive syndrome is real, its hard, its ugly. She doesn’t need more guilt. She needs our love poured out in abundant mercy. If you've had an abortion, God's grace is enough! You are greatly loved! Also, if you know someone involved in the abortion industry, love on them, pray for them and if they want out, refer them to and then there were none.
   
5. Learn how to defend your position on being pro-life without initiating religious debate Here’s my 60 second spill:
   
   "The American College of Pediatricians (physician journal backed by scientific evidence) issued an article in 2014 stating that life begins at conception. Our Declaration of Independence states that all men [persons – members of the species homo sapiens] are created equal and as such are entitled to the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness. As a conscience bearing adult, that means that I have a responsibility to stand for those who cannot stand for themselves, whether the unborn, the elderly, or the incapacitated. Their lives matter!" (outside of my personal religious convictions, this is my statement on being pro-life.)
   
6. Be a Joseph to a friend in dealing with an unplanned pregnancy. Walk in grace. Support her. Help her to find the resources she needs whether it is finances, lodging, an adoption agency or simply a listening ear. Assure her she is not alone and that God’s grace is enough even now. Mary did it, Jesus was born and changed the course of history!

I challenge you as I challenge myself – don’t remain silent any longer! Our prayers, our love, and showing the grace of our merciful God can enact change if we are willing to take stand for the truth!

When "Why?" Is the Burning Question in My Heart

The other night, I held my husband as he cried – and I mean cried – (as did I) as the father in Like Arrows came in to talk to his daughter, the bride. Another hit to our hearts and realization of a moment that we will miss as parents. Though I’ve grieved over not having a little girl, I still have questions. Questions that I’m not sure I’ll ever have the answer to.

 “Why?” (I hate it when my own kids ask that question) I know well the reality that God sees all and does all things well. He doesn’t owe me an answer in any way. Yet the question lingers as a winter that seems to never end. When I consider my “why” question, I realize it actually goes deeper than just those three small letters. It’s connected to my heart. When I peel back the layers, the question looks more like:

 “Did I do something wrong?”
 “Do I not have what it takes to raise a daughter?”
 “Am I not woman enough myself to set an example for a little girl?”

Just putting voice to those questions brings up another layer of wounds on my identity and beauty.

The world constantly whispers (and sometimes screams) these scars onto our hearts. “You’re not enough.” “You’re too much.” “You can’t handle it.” “No one can handle you.” “Your heart is too deep.” “You’re unwanted.” “You’re ugly, mean, rude, selfish, etc.” On and on they go. Maybe these words came through our parent’s mouths or maybe simply in a cold shoulder when we would get emotional over a seemingly trivial issue. Maybe a sibling was the favored one and we were ignored. Maybe our arrival came at a time of intense pressure in our parents lives. Maybe our parents were wonderful, and we had a genuinely loving relationship with them, but we heard these words (verbally or insinuated) from a friend at school, from a teacher, a grandparent, a boyfriend, or an employer.

We respond in one of two ways to these wounds. We get stronger, determined that we will never be hurt in that way again. Maybe anger is the coverup, or makeup, clothes, the way we carry ourselves. Or we walk around as wounded, hurting shells of people who live in constant anxiety. We tiptoe around people who present threats, we try to please and make everyone happy and do everything in our power to not rock the boat. Ultimately, at the root of both of these responses is fear – fear that we might be found out, that someone might see though our guise, that we will be seen for what we are – either too much or not enough!

But God is loving. 1 John states that He IS Love! And perfect love drives out all fear. There is no fear in love because fear has to do with punishment. That’s it. The reason I fear, the reason we fear, is that we fear the repercussions of being found out. Will we be reprimanded again or told how we should buck up? Will that person feel like we are too much to handle and walk away? If God really sees our hearts, will even he be repulsed and draw back in disgust? What kind of punishment will we incur if we’re found out to not be who we should be?

That is at the root of my question: Is God punishing me by not giving me a daughter because of something I’ve done or not done?

As I gain clarity on the reality of my question, I realize it reveals a distorted view about who God is. And that distorted view reflects on my own identity and radiates into my wounds. We have an enemy who prowls around seeking someone to destroy (1 Peter 5:8). And he does it as a deceiver, the father of lies. Isn’t that how this whole messed up world got started in the first place? One woman taking a solid bite of one lie. Oh, how I don’t want to be her. I want to see through the lies and believe the truth. Here are the lies that I’ve been tempted to chew on recently. . .

Lie: If I don’t measure up, God will withhold his love, grace and gifts.

Truth: Romans 5:8 – “But God demonstrates his own love toward us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” I didn’t measure up to begin with. I was as far from deserving or worthy of his sacrifice as anyone, and yet He still showered me with his love and gave the ultimate gift – His life for mine. John 15 states that there is no greater love than when a man will lay down his life for his friend. Amazing Grace!

Lie: If I mess up, God will be out to get me and punish me.

Truth: Psalm 103:8 – “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He will not always chide, nor will he keep his anger forever. He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him, as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.” I am so grateful that God’s love is not dependent on my performance. I can rest assured, that when I mess up (and I will) he is like the father of the Prodigal Son, standing there with open arms waiting to welcome me back, full of love and forgiveness.

Lie: If I get too emotional or struggle to trust God, He will be overwhelmed by me and withdraw his presence.

Truth: Psalm 34:18 – “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted. He saves those who are crushed in spirit.” I love the Psalms for the reality and spectrum of emotions they reveal. David was considered a man after God’s own heart, and yet he openly expressed to God feelings of anger, rage, sadness, despair, depression, doubt, fear, and so many more. God longs for us to pour out our hearts to him and be our refuge (Psalm 62). And I love how David goes on to express that even when those closest to him abandons him (his father and mother), God invites him to come close (Psalm 27:10) And Paul expresses in Romans 8 that there is nothing in heaven or earth, good or bad that can ever separate us from God’s love (vs. 31-39). What reassurance that I’m never too much for my Heavenly Father!

It’s so easy to get set in our patterns of “stinkin’ thinkin’” as a friend of mine likes to call it. These lies are made to sound so much like truth. Just like Eve facing the serpent, we begin to think, You know, maybe he’s right. Maybe God hasn’t been telling us the truth all along. But my friends, I have seen first hand the devastation that can be brought by buying into these lies. Eve took a bite, and all the future was forever changed. I want to rise above this way of thinking. I want to learn to see the truth in the midst of the lies and trust the goodness of my heavenly father, no matter what.

In order to do this, I must learn to speak truth to my heart - for my heart is deceitful. Truth is found exclusively in the Word of God. The only way we will be able to fight the lies of the enemy is by keeping the truth close at hand (buckled around our waist) and hidden in our hearts.

My "why" question can be brought before the throne of God. He's not afraid of my deepest questions, fears, or wounds. As a loving Father, he will, by His Spirit, gently guide me into all truth. And when I know the truth, the truth will set me free!

When the Right Choice is the Hard Choice and Threatens to Break Your Heart

For us, that choice had to do with our dog. “It’s only a dog.” Some might mutter while others accuse “She was your dog! How could you?” Yesterday we told our dog goodbye and watched her walk away with her new owner to her new home. The tears fill my eyes now even as I write that. I never wanted it to be this way. I had so many dreams of her being our family dog forever.

We didn’t come to the decision to re-home our dog lightly. It took months, maybe even years to really realize the truth that we were no longer capable of giving her everything she needed. Ultimately, after seeking God and talking together, my husband and I knew it was time for our Gracie-girl to find a new home – one that could give her much more attention than we could at this phase in our lives. But the truth didn’t stop the ache in my heart.

We all make hard choices, some more difficult than others. Maybe for you it was saying goodbye to a child, knowing someone else could provide them with a more nurturing home. Maybe it was letting go of a relationship you knew wasn’t healthy or best. Maybe it was choosing to say “enough” to medical intervention and watching your loved one pass away peacefully. Maybe your hard choice was a single occurrence of turning down a solid job opportunity to choose your family instead, or maybe you’ve said no time after time to the advances of a co-worker choosing to honor your marriage commitment even though it’s hard. Your choice may have been like ours to re-home a pet or say goodbye permanently so they no longer have to suffer.

As believers in Christ, we are called to look for wisdom then to obey, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Whatever your choice, I’m sure it has touched your heart as ours has mine. What do you do when the right choice is hard? What do you do when it threatens to break your heart? Here are five things that have helped me. I hope they help you too!

Don’t self-medicate. When my heart hurts, I don’t like it. I’m uncomfortable, and it doesn’t feel good. The first thing my flesh wants to run to are fillers and distractions – a big bowl of ice cream, a novel, a TV show or movie, a nap, lots of dark chocolate, maybe even a run if I have that much pent up energy. Now none of these things are wrong in their own light. God gives us all gifts for our enjoyment and delight in him. The problem comes when I run to those things first and only, when I look to the food, the drinks, the entertainment to fill me back up again.

The only source of our life is Christ. “In Him was life” (John 1:4). “In Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). “I have come that they may have life and have it to the full” (John 10:10). Anything we look to in order to bring us life other than Christ himself is a cheap substitute and ultimately becomes an idol in our lives.

Staci Eldridge addresses this problem in her book Captivating. “. . . none of these really satisfy, and so we find ourselves trying to fill the remaining emptiness with our little indulgences (we call them ‘bad habits’). Brent Curtis calls them our ‘little affairs of the heart.’ They are what we give our hearts away to instead of giving them to the heart of God” (57). The substitutes and self-medicating may make us feel better for a while, but ultimately, they will leave us empty and as unfulfilled as before.

Instead of taking my heart and hiding it or distracting my heart from the pain, I have to realize that God longs to have my heart – All of it! “You will seek me and you will find me when you seek for me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29:13). God cares about our aches and pains no matter how little they may seem to someone else, and he longs for us to pour out our heart to him. (Psalm 62:8)

Don’t listen to accusations. Everyone in the world has an opinion about your life – especially everyone on social media. You would not believe some of the things that people said about our decision as we were looking for a new home for our dog. People who didn’t even know me felt the freedom to condemn and insult. (That’s another post for another day) It hurt! It cut deeply. The saying goes, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” So. Not. True. Bone heal, and they heal stronger. Hearts almost always carry scars from words rashly spoken.

Our enemy likes to take these accusations along with our own hurt and exhaustion and twist them into tempting morsels for us to chew on. I have to think the prophet Elijah was in a similar boat being the only prophet to stand for God in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation. Right after he called down fire from God to the alter on the mountain and prayed for it to rain, he found himself in the wilderness so depressed and discouraged that he asked God to let him die. Jezebel was after him. He probably felt like everyone was after him. But after a nap, and as he sought God, he found him. It wasn’t in the earthquake or the whirlwind or the fire, but afterward, he heard it – the still small voice speaking truth to his heart.

Our world, our culture can be so loud. Comments can echo around our head and heart until they seem like the only truths left. But it’s not in the noise of our social media contacts that we are going to hear words of truth from the mouth of the one who assured, “I am the way and the truth. . .” (John 14:6). Jesus spoke of the Holy Spirit in John 16:13, “He will guide you into all truth.” Many times, I wonder if the Holy Spirit is constantly speaking quietly to our heart, but we drown him out with our own versions of earthquakes, whirlwinds, and fires. If we step away from the noise and quiet our hearts, we will hear the tender voice of the Holy Spirit speaking truth and comfort to our burdened hearts.

Speak truth to yourself. Sometimes even after tuning out the noise of the world, I still find it hard to hear the truth. Satan, the father of lies, is crafty and cunning and will twist nearly anything to fit his own devices in continuing to steal our joy, kill our hope and defeat our effectiveness for the glory of God.

I think that may be one of the reasons that the belt of truth is mentioned first as we put on the armor of God. For a long time, I wondered why Paul included a belt in the armor. It is neither an offensive nor defensive weapon. But the more I pondered and prayed, I realized the centrality of this piece of armor to every other piece we are commanded to take up in Ephesians 6. A belt is crucial to a garment in order to keep it tightly secured. Could you imagine fighting a battle while your pants are falling down around your ankles? The other crucial job of a belt is to provide a place to store your weapons. In the same way, truth is absolutely essential in our fight against our enemy.

When I find it hard to hear the truth, I must seek it out in the Word of God! David did the same thing commanding his heart to put his hope in God! (Psalm 42). Truth about who God is, who I am, and what He has promised prove to be a healing balm to my soul and ultimately defeats the deception of the devil.

Get outside. When my heart is hurting and all I want to do is close myself up in my room, sometimes the healthiest thing I can do is to take a walk. Getting outside reminds me that the world is so much bigger than me and my problems. Seeing trees, birds, flowers (and yes, even snow) can bring hope to my heart that even in the midst of this cruel world, God is still working his redeeming plan. And exposing my heart to beauty reminds me to be thankful for the little gifts of grace that God provides.

We see season after season how fall turns to winter then winter to spring. “He has made everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). He then will also take my heart and make something beautiful once again.

Breathe. I don’t mean deep breathing or yoga. Throughout the Bible, the same words for Holy Spirit are “Ruach” or “Pneuma” meaning breath. I have to remind myself that I am not my own life source. Christ is. The vibrancy and beauty of my heart can only come through His power.

We sang a song on Sunday. “It’s your breath in our lungs. So we pour out our praise.” (listen here) I had never realized the truth of that chorus in that way before. It is only by the power of the Holy Spirit flowing through us that we can utter our Amen to the glory of God (2 Corinthians 1:20). Try as I might, I cannot praise God in the midst of the storm unless I am sustained by the very nature of who he is in me. I can do nothing on my own, but I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13). It’s His Breath in our lungs. Let him pour out His praise through you.

This life is hard, and decisions that we must make are not without their effect on our hearts. But friends, if you are in the midst of your own hard right now, would you take my hand and walk with me as we make choices even in the middle of the hard stuff? Let’s journey this road together for two are better than one and a cord of three strands is not easily broken (Ecclesiastes 4:9). I would love to hear how I can be praying for you in the midst of your hard thing! May God hold your hearts.

Good Grief: Why I Can't Simply "Count It All Joy"

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:2-3 ESV).

Growing up in the church, I heard this passage oft quoted when someone was grieved or struggling. Unfortunately, it’s a common theme among believers that grief over heartache or suffering must be short-lived if we are to prove our trust in God.

When we encounter trials, we may find it acceptable to shed a few tears, but then (if we are really mature) we pull up our “big girl pants” and push the feelings away under the title of “Trusting that God has a plan” and that “He will work all things out for good.”

I have been exposed to this process so repetitively that it has become ingrained in my mind and heart as a pattern to follow. Deep emotions are uncomfortable. They are uncomfortable to me and uncomfortable for others. If I’m really trusting God, I won’t continue to grieve, right?

Ironically, I don’t believe that’s what James intended from these verses. He goes on to say that we should allow steadfastness (or perseverance) have its full effect so that we may be mature and complete and lacking nothing. This perseverance does not mean (as many like to translate) pushing forward in our faith and pushing our emotions away. In the Greek, it is translated “hupomone’” – “hypo” meaning under and “meno” meaning to remain or endure. Strongs HELPS Word-studies goes on to explain that this is a God-empowered ability given to those who believe in him to “’remain (endure) under’ the challenges He allots in life.” Obviously, we are not being instructed to remove ourselves from the trial by our own efforts of trusting in God.

Peter echoes James’ sentiments in 1 Peter chapter 1, but I believe, though oft less quoted, he is more clear in the way he communicates. Peter begins by laying a foundational vision of the hope we have in Christ, the power and grace of his glory and the promises we can rest assured of. He then continues. “In this you rejoice, [comparable to James’ admonition to count it all joy] though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials” (1 Peter 1:6). Hold on a second. Peter brings up the reality of the emotion in the midst of the trials. We have been grieved!  This word “grief” in the Greek is “lupeo” – which means to experience deep emotional pain, sorrow, intense sadness. (Ladies, it’s the same word that’s used to describe the pain of childbirth – how is that for a visual?)

But Peter doesn’t stop there. He continues that this grief (not the “choice” to count it all joy) is so that the tested genuineness of our faith may bring Christ all the praise and the glory. And that’s our ultimate aim, right? As believers, we are called to image and glorify Christ on this earth – not ourselves. I’ve found that if I put forth my own effort to trust God, I am denying the power of God in my life and, in my pride, believing that I have what it takes to live the life of faith.  However, if I’m willing to patiently endure the process of sorrow (by the grace that God supplies), to walk through each phase with him, I will experience his comfort, his peace, his presence in ways that were never possible when I was choosing to “count it all joy” and remove myself from feeling those deep emotions. Ultimately, He will get the glory – not me – when he brings me to the other side full of inexpressible and glorious joy!

This concept goes against everything that has been ingrained in me for so long. Grief typically = tears. And I don’t like tears so much – at least not my own. Tears, in our culture, are translated as weakness. I’m a strong person if I can hold myself together. Now, tears are okay for babies, for kids, but I am a grown up. I shouldn’t cry, should I?

I came across this video as I was processing through this concept, and it opened my eyes to why crying may be a positive and not a negative. The Healing Power of Tears

Dr. William Frey, a biochemist at Ramsey Medical center in Minneapolis, studied the composition of different tears and discovered that emotional tears are comprised of water, salt, and stress hormones. Isn’t it amazing that God created our bodies with the wonderful ability to rid our physical systems of these stress chemicals? Tears serve both an emotional and a physical purpose! Tears are good.

But what if visiting the pain again or allowing myself to feel the grief and sorrow causes emotions or questions that go against what I should believe to be true? I love the way Priscilla Shirer addresses these concerns. Check this out: When You Are Going Through A Lot

So, my friends, I’m learning that it’s not wrong to feel. It’s actually okay to cry. Jesus, at the tomb of Lazarus, wept! He didn’t simply shed a couple of tears and move on. He was deeply moved in spirit and he mourned along with the other Jews at the graveside. Does this mean that Jesus didn’t believe the truth of who he was? Was he not solid in his identity? Did he not know what he was about to do? Absolutely not. He was fully God, yet he chose to be fully human. And in that moment, he suffered grief of a kind that we are all well acquainted with.

When I’m willing to endure through the grief, rather than escaping it, Jesus can come to me and comfort me in ways I would never know otherwise. And with that comfort, I can comfort others in their own struggle. This is the body of Christ. This is our purpose as a church – not to shore up ourselves to be stronger in our faith, but to allow Christ to come strengthen our faith in the struggle.

Grief is for our good.

It’s in the wrestling that we are made stronger.

Weeping may endure for the night, but great joy comes in the morning!

Don't Go It Alone: How Hiding our Hurts Opens us to Enemy Influence

I feel the threat of attacks rising as the sun tempts to rise over the horizon. Lies of the enemy just waiting to push buttons of temptation. Anything he can do to keep me from basking in the glory of the Son and reflecting that glory to the world around me. When you feel isolated, your reflection only goes so far. And when one person feels like they aren’t even reaching another, they ask what’s the point? We were made in the image of God – in the likeness of the trinity – with an innate need for fellowship. And when that need goes unmet, we easily distort our perceptions of reality into contortions similar to mirrors in the funny house. Nothing makes sense, we don’t know which way is up or which way to turn. Confused and exhausted, it’s easy to ask, what’s the point? And desire to give up completely.

But the truth is, we are never alone. Never. For one, He has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” He is here. Always. And not only is he here, but his arms are open wide and he invites us into his loving embrace. Not condemning. Not chiding. Simply loving, forgiving, encouraging us on this difficult journey.

Secondly, we are being watched – by someone. Constantly. Spouse, kids, parents, siblings, social media contacts, the cashier at the grocery store, the person driving in the car next to you, the barista at starbucks, the teacher, the student, the patient, the coach, the athlete, the boss, the employee. And they too, each one of them is longing for connection whether they realize it or not. Naturally, as humans, we reach toward each other, even those we don’t know simply to be reminded that we are as human as they are. Each eye that watches you looks to catch a glimpse that there is maybe, possibly, more to this life than just surviving. They are looking for hope. They are looking to you. They are looking to me. No, we are not alone, we are very much surrounded.

But our enemy secures our blinders and makes sure we keep our eyes down so that we don’t make those connections. He wants us to feel alone. As Lysa Terkeurst says about our enemy, “If he can isolate us, he can influence us” (It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way, 150). Satan wants his voice to be the loudest sound we hear. Lies like: You’re a failure. You’re not good enough. You’re too much. It’s not worth it. Just give up. His purposes are clearly lined out in scripture. He has come to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10). And what better way to steal our joy, kill our hope, and destroy our effectiveness than to bring us to a point of isolation and despair.

John 10:10 doesn’t stop there. Jesus goes on to say, “But I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” Life - made a living being, coming directly from the breath of God breathed into Adam and has been breathing into us by the power of his Spirit ever since. We are living creatures, Imago Dei – made in the likeness of God – and as such we are made for relationship. But when we hide due to our hurts, our wounds, and our fears, when we struggle with concern over what others think of our hearts, we isolate ourselves and open that door to being influenced by the enemy again.

Our Christian culture has convinced us that its most holy to be joyful (or at least be okay) with the difficulties. James 1 is oft quoted when trials arise, “Count it all joy.” And yes, that is our obligation – eventually. The problem arises when we don’t allow time for grief. Jesus wept over the death of Lazarus (even though he knew the truth of who He was and what he was about to do.) Jesus again mourned over Jerusalem (though he was about it rescue all who believed in Him through his sacrifice.) “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crusted in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). And in Romans 12, we are instructed to weep with those who weep.

Life hurts. It’s hard. This sin stained place is suspended between the fall of Paradise and the not yet fully redeemed. And it’s okay to grieve that. Grief, is good. Tears heal. Your wound may not look like mine, but that doesn't make it any less significant. Now may be my time for weeping. Now may be yours. Joy will come in the morning (maybe tomorrow, maybe days from now.) And the truth is, in the midst of our sorrow, we can still trust that God is good, that he works all things for good, and that He loves us. Oh, how he loves us.

For now, if you’re here (or if you’ve been here, but you’ve been encouraged to move on too quickly), I encourage you to stay for a while. Linger. Allow the feelings to surface, and pour out your heart to God – He is our refuge (Psalm 62:8) and he cares so very much for each little (or big) thing that has wounded his children’s hearts. Don’t stay alone in your pain. Share it with a friend. Talk to a counselor if you need to. Close the door to isolation, and close the door on the enemy’s influence. Jesus is Jehovah Rophe’ – our healer. And he will see to it that your wounds are well tended.

Friends, if someone opens up to you about their pain, listen, don’t preach. It’s okay for us to grieve. It’s okay for it to hurt. We can be sorrowful yet joyful in the hope of God’s glory at the same time. It is possible! Let’s get back to living life to the full like Jesus intended – in true fellowship with one another!