Linger in the beauty of this truth. Savor the sweetness. God is with us.

Connect with Christ in Your Everyday Life
Linger in the beauty of this truth. Savor the sweetness. God is with us.

I’ve done a lot of waiting in my life. In fact, I can divide my life into things I’ve waited for:
When I was a kid, waiting for Christmas and my birthday were the biggest waiting events, of course. As the years went by I waited for a boyfriend, waited for a husband, waited for a baby, waited for a cure, waited for healing, waited for answers, and I am sure there is more waiting to come.
Waiting, waiting, waiting. I should be good at it by now, right?
I stink at waiting.
I used to deal with waiting times by looking for a specific lesson in each period of waiting. I would tell myself “God is teaching me something. If I hurry up and learn it, the waiting will end.”
This formula for waiting was interwoven with another formula I lived by- a deal I made with God- the “If I do my best to live right, You will give me a good life” deal.
This formula for life worked somewhat until the waiting for a baby period of my life. When the wait reached beyond two years, I began looking for the lesson so that I could hurry up and learn it and become a mom. I was convinced that God was teaching me to be content. So here’s how the process unfolded.
I would work myself up into a state of great contentedness, and announce loudly about how content I was. After a while I would grow less content and pout and get angry and forget that I was supposed to be content. Then I would get mad because my formula wasn’t working, and, I would point out to God that He wasn’t keeping His part of the I do my best, You give me a good life deal. (Did I mention that God never actually agreed to this deal that I made up?)
Then after a while, I would go into another state of great contentedness and the cycle would go again. And again. And at the end of these cycles, my poor confused husband would say things like. “But yesterday you said you were content.” And I would throw things and yell really profound things like, “Well today I’m NOT!”
After 9 years and 2 miscarriages, I began to rethink my formula and my deal with God. Maybe something bigger was going on, something more than learning the lesson.
After one of our miscarriages, my husband very wisely pointed out (after making sure I didn’t have anything in my hands to throw), “Erin, your desire to be a mother is from God. He has given that to you, and He will put it to use in some way. It may not be through our own children. It may be through adoption, or teaching Sunday School, or being in a ministry to children, or in a way we can’t even see right now. But He will use it. It won’t be wasted.”
I believe God gave him those words, because they pierced right through my heart.
In all my formulaic-living and deal-making with God, I had forgotten that this was about more than wanting children. I had forgotten that God’s heart was toward me. That He had given this desire for His reasons. And He would bring His reasons about at just the right time.
And in those moments, when I pictured God’s tenderness toward me and His plans for me, trust began to grow. Before that moment, I trusted God with my salvation, but I didn’t really trust His heart for me in day-to-day life. Because of my deal (the one I made up), I was convinced that God was watching, waiting for me to slip up. I saw God as critiquing me instead of gazing lovingly at His child.
But when I caught a glimpse of His heart for me, my view of God changed. Instead of looking at God with my arms crossed defensively and my chin raised defiantly, prepared for His criticism, I could approach Him as a child, grasp His hand and say “I’m having trouble with this, will You help me?”
I’ve found that the times of waiting in my life have been about much more than learning the lesson. I have learned many lessons during the waiting times. But, more importantly, during the waiting I’ve learned to trust God’s heart toward me. And it makes me want to turn toward Him more and more.
I still stink at waiting, and I have been known to still throw an item or two, but I am finding that the more I focus on God’s love toward me, and trust His heart toward me, the more I get to know Him during the waiting times. And knowing Him is the deepest desire of my heart.
May the God of all hope and comfort draw you close during your waiting times too.
Ever felt like you’ve lost your footing in your own life? Like you just want to stop the world, catch your breath, have a complete thought or two – with a mocha latte, of course.
Yeah, me too.
At our house, I am discovering that having 3 pre-teens is almost as intense as having 3 toddlers, although the intensity is emotional instead of physical. We are experiencing a constant flow of hurt feelings, roller-coaster emotions, and confusion. And that “we” definitely includes me.
When I lose my footing, I tend to react. Reacting doesn’t restore relationships, it doesn’t build bridges. It’s more like a tornado tearing through a town.
So today I slowed down with a mocha latte and discovered this beautiful song, River God, by Nicole Nordeman. The words reminded me that God works through difficult times to shape us.
I hope it will strengthen you as you fight for hope today.
As I’ve watched the news, as I’ve lived in my own shoes, as I’ve walked beside friends, this question keeps coming:
Where is hope?
Where is hope when the world is going crazy, when things spin out of control, when it feels like the darkness is going to suffocate all good out of existence?
Current world events will cause us to ask this question. An honest look in the mirror will as well. In this broken world we struggle with addictions. We have loved ones caught in the snare of pornography, alcoholism, or in the cycles of anxiety and depression.
And many days it seems the darkness is winning. With each stumble, each setback, the darkness seems to close in, mocking our desperate prayers for hope, for deliverance, for change.
On these days, where is hope?
Hope doesn’t swoop in like Superman to save the day. It starts as a spark that grows over time.
I am a big fan of time.
I remember when the 10:00 news report was followed by the National Anthem and that ended the news for the day. In fact, it ended all television programming until early the next morning.
Hours of wonderful silence followed.
And that silence that gave people time. Time to think, to cool off, to rest. Time to allow ideas and thoughts to marinate. Time for people to figure out what they really thought about issues.
When it feel like the darkness is winning we tend to react, and more often than not, fear and anger win the day. Fear and anger drive out hope and replace it with hopelessness. “Hopelessness produces a refusal to see the potential of a new, bright, and good day… ” (page 86, The Healing Path) When fear and anger are driving, and hopelessness is thriving, we aren’t at our best.
Time also gives a chance for hope to grow.
Not a cross-your-fingers-and-hope-for-the-best kind of hope, but a hope that “enables us to walk bravely into the future, confident things can be better than they are today.” (The Healing Path, Dan B. Allender)
And we need hope because we are raising children who will be the next leaders, voters, the next people of this world. Our kids need to see us fighting for hope because hope is so very important. Hope allows us to be courageous and compassionate and I believe that is the kind of people our world needs.
Hope clings to the belief that this is not the end. God will work. Good will come from this. “The quintessential cry of hope is found in the remark Joseph made after experiencing devastating physical, sexual, and emotional abuse: “God turned into good what you meant for evil.” (Genesis 50:20, NLT)” (The Healing Path)
I believe that the more we fight for hope, the more we will see sparks of hope grow into a flame. Fighting for hope will help us communicate to each other with respect, even those who are on opposing sides of an issue.
So instead of shouting across the canyon at the spouse who is struggling with an addiction, or at the person whose lifestyle looks different from ours, or at people who drink out of red cups at Christmas, or at people who say open the borders, or close the borders….
Fighting for hope will enable us to sit down together, listen to each other, wade through the fear and anger, and find an answer for a new, bright, and good day.
Keep fighting for hope, dear friend. It is important for our lives, our world and our future.
This song says it all. It IS good to be alive!
The interstate was packed with people trying to get home after a long day of work. I was one of those people, but my mind wasn’t on driving. I was struggling with the loss of a friendship, the sting of betrayal, and the fear of being alone. As the road curved a gorgeous sunset filled my windshield, breaking through the gloomy thoughts surrounding me.
And with the sunset, a spark of hope broke through the darkness.
“Even if I can’t rely on their faithfulness, I can rely on yours,” I told the Lord. “Every time I see a sunset, it will be a reminder that your faithfulness never ends, that your faithfulness stretches to the heavens, that you have promised to never leave me.”
And whenever I see a sunset, I am reminded of God’s faithfulness and I feel an overwhelming sense of being loved and held by God.
The sunset helps me remember the depth of God’s faithfulness. And it is good for me to remember, because I easily forget.
As my children grow, I want them to remember the same truths we’ve talked about in this 31 days of writing: You are loved. You are not alone. You have purpose.
Made to Love by TobyMac speaks these truths with a really catchy tune. I love hearing my children belting out the chorus.
I was made to love You, I was made to find You,
I was made just for You, Made to adore You,
I was made to love, and be loved by You.
You were here before me, You were waiting on me,
And you said You’d keep me, Never would You leave me,
I was made to love, and be loved by You.
I wanted us to remember these truths, so I filled canvases with these words and let the kids loose with the paint.
God reminds us of these truths throughout His Word, from Genesis to Revelation. He says them over and over because He knows we are easily distracted, easily discouraged, and likely to forget these beautiful truths: You are loved. You are not alone. You have purpose.
These truths remind us that we are His.
Late one night when the noises in the dorm rooms around me faded, I sat on my floor asking big questions. Why am I here? What am I supposed to do with my life?
It was my Junior year at Belhaven College. Only one more year until graduation. Shouldn’t I know what I wanted to be when I grew up by now?
In those quiet moments I read 2 Corinthians 5:14.
For the love of Christ compels us, because we judge thus: that if One died for all, then all died; and He died for all, that those who live should live no longer for themselves, for but Him who died for them and rose again.
From this verse I gathered that I was supposed to live for Christ and not for myself.
But what does it mean to live for Christ?
If I had written this post on that night twenty-something years ago, I would probably have written a list, a “10 Ways to Live For Him” that would have sounded very spiritual and pretty near impossible. I’m sure an hour-long devotion at 5:00 am before your big toe hits the floor would have made the list.
Thank goodness blogging hadn’t been invented yet.
The truth is that “living for Him and not for ourselves” will probably look different for each of us. It even looks different in each season of our own lives. Living for Him may involve caring for your mother or father while they struggle with cancer or Alzheimer’s. It may involve changing 1,234 diapers in a season of caring for babies. It may mean waiting. Waiting for a relationship, waiting for a child, waiting for an answer. Waiting and clinging to His promises.
But behind the scenes “living for Him and not for ourselves” looks pretty similar in each of our lives. Living for Him involves getting to know Him and learning to hear His voice.
We get to know Him by talking to Him through prayer, by reading His Word, by being part of a community of people who are also living for Him, a place where our faith can be encouraged and strengthened.
The word for compels is a Greek word that means to hold together, to compress, to arrest. The love of Christ holds us together.
The word compels mean to force or drive, especially to a course of action.What action does the love of Christ drive us to?
When we grasp what He has done for us, the love of Christ toward us drives us to live for Him, and not for ourselves. We live for Him in response to His love for us.
My 10 ways – list-making-college-self lived for Him in order to earn His love. What a waste. The glorious truth is that We already have His love! The life He lived and the death He died is proof of His love for us. There is nothing to earn, but plenty to be thankful for.
In the process of living for Him we get to know Him. As we get to know Him we grow closer to Him. And no matter what our season of life looks like on the outside, growing closer to Him brings meaning to our life.
The word community could mean a group of people who live in the same place or who work together, people who have common interests, people who think alike.
This is not the type of community I want to talk about.
This was my first commune-ity. These are the friends who knew me. The ones I played with, fought with, and leaned on. With these girls I learned that friendship means apologizing, and forgiving, and speaking the hard truth even when no one is listening. These are the first friends who became “my people.” They taught me the importance of friendship and the richness of knowing and being known.
Of course, we were just kids. We didn’t know we were forming the building blocks of friendship in each other. We didn’t know we were teaching each other about commune-ity so that we would know how to find friends throughout our lives.
These are the girls I played Charlie’s Angels with on the third grade playground, giggled over crushes with in Junior High, and struggled with life, relationships, and Chemistry in High School. These were my people for late night talks, school projects (THAT time line in 10th grade Humanities Class), MTV (Thriller and Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You). We went to scary movies and made each other laugh during the scariest parts. We were silly and obnoxious and we loved each other fiercely.
Then we lost touch for over 25 years.
Could we reconnect? We had missed so much in each other’s lives: marriages, divorce, children, mommy moments, miscarriages, marriage struggles.
Had we missed too much, I wondered. Will the gap be too wide?
As we planned our mini-reunion, I found letters written during those lost years. Letters that helped us through the first lonely months of college, letters that grew sporadic as marriage and kids and careers filled our lives. And these letters poured over with life-giving words.
You are a blessing. I am praying for you.
I know you can succeed. Don’t throw away the abilities and opportunities that God gives you.
I’m so thankful for your friendship.
And when the four of us finally re-connected, those words hadn’t changed.
Though years had gone by, and there were many details to fill in, our heart for each other hadn’t changed.
We were made for this type of community, for knowing and being known. We all need “our people” in our lives. People who know who we are in the depths of our being. People who love us for our strengths and weaknesses, who encourage and support us. People who are good for our heart, and refreshing for our soul.
Here we are! Day 22 of Truths That Make Life Beautiful.
Your “likes” and your comments have encouraged me to keep plugging away at this series. (Thank you!) I’ve enjoyed walking with you through the first two truths: You are loved and You are not alone.
I believe that the more we allow these truths to soak into our bones and permeate our lives, the more readily we will believe the third truth: You have purpose.
You have purpose. You matter. You were made for wonderful things. Let’s explore a few of these wonderful things in the remaining days of this series.
We were made for hope.
We sat in the school hallway with 30 other people, waiting for the tornado.
I tried to keep conversation light to mask my own worry. Anderson played a board game nearby with a friend. Maggie watched Frozen with a group of girls huddled around a tablet screen. But Ellen stayed by my side and asked the hard questions.
“Is the tornado close?” she whispered. I put my arm around her as we leaned against the wall. “It’s about 10 minutes away. You don’t have to worry. We are in a safe place. We are in the safest place we can be. ”
“Will it hit us?” She asked.
“I don’t know, sweetie, but we are in a safe place if it does.”
“Mama, do people die in tornados?”
In the 25 zillion parenting books I’d read, not a single book had a chapter on Speaking Truth During Tornados. I was not going to lie to my child, and yet I didn’t want to multiply her fears.
“Sometimes that happens, sweetheart. But we are in the safest place we can be right now.” I kept using the word safe hoping it would make her feel safe.
The wind howled. The rain pelted. And my husband walked past us, a grim look on his face. Ellen and I watched as he wrapped an extension cord around the handles of the double doors at the end of the hallway – the doors that could fly open if a tornado hit.
I felt the muscles tighten in Ellen’s little body.
“Are we going to die?” she whispered, her voice trembling in my ear.
Fear. Pure fear.
These circumstances were totally out of my control, and my child knew it. She immediately felt alone and helpless, and I could identify with that.
It is not unusual to feel alone when we feel helpless.
God knows what it is like to live in this broken world. He knows that we will face circumstances that we can’t change or control. And He knows we need Him to remind us that we are not alone.
Do not fear, for I am with you. Isaiah 41:10
His Word gives us assurance of His presence. We are not alone, because He is with us.
I did not want my child to feel alone, because we were not alone or abandoned.
The truth was that the tornado could hit. We could be injured or die. And God would still be good. He would still use it in our lives for something beautiful.
But how could I explain this to my 6 year-old who was gripped with fear, when I don’t even fully understand it myself? I’ve seen God bring beauty from bad things in my life. I’ve seen Him work in people’s hearts through the most difficult and horrible circumstances. I don’t understand it, but I trust His hand.
I pulled Ellen into my lap, held her, and said, “I’m not sure what will happen. But I know that God will do what is best, and I trust Him.”
The tornado went over us without touching down and Ellen and I whispered prayers of thankfulness for His protection.
God did protect us that day. But even if He had allowed the tornado to hit, it wouldn’t have been because He took His Hand away from us. As His children, we are secure in the palm of His Hand. He is with us.
I’m still not sure how to convey this complicated truth to my children. Maybe it’s enough to teach them to trust Him, because He is with us, even when we are sitting in the dark.