"Someone needs to see you suffer well."

When I opened the browser on my phone and that random statement popped up, I felt heaviness in my stomach momentarily, which is usually how fear shows up for me physically. Was it random that the Bible study I had just wrapped up was centered around suffering and patient endurance? Probably not. I've walked with God long enough to know that random things and coincidence aren't really random or coincidental. I'm more inclined to believe that's how He often demonstrates His sovereignty. I've also come to an understanding that I can rely on His consistency and faithful Presence in the seemingly random and coincidental, and that should settle me, but because I'm still such a work in progress, it, more often than not, doesn't.

I didn't have full knowledge at that moment, but a few weeks later, I would come to learn that my life was heading for immense change. A suffering that would attempt to rattle my faith and humiliate me in unimaginable ways. This particular suffering had visited me once before but this time added an element that rendered me helpless, and on some days, without hope.  Isn't that the work of the enemy?  To whisper the questions, "Why would a good God allow this in your life?"; "Do you think God is mad at you for those times that...?" "Are you sure that you're saved?"

Stealthily subtle.  That's who Satan is.

Once the circumstances of suffering were launched, the fiery darts intensified and came at me from all directions.  Consistently random.  I would experience periods of calm and silence, and then out of nowhere, attack.  His whispers weren't questions anymore.  They were assaults.  "You're an idiot. A fraud. Poser. Loser. Stupid. Invisible. A burden to everyone around you. Weak. Powerless. Helpless. Of no value. And YOU DON'T MATTER."

Predictable.  Those are the assaults he's used since I was a little girl.

In Matthew 17:20, Jesus said,
Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."

So I took my little mustard seed and acted in faith.  I hit my knees.  I prayed.  I cried out.  I sowed in tears.  I sought wise and Godly counsel.  I got still.  And He answered.
​

This is my story.  This is my song:
Exodus 14:14
The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.

I’ve been in a spiritual slump. Hungry and thirsty for a fresh move from God and in a season of difficult circumstances and pruning, I’ve been tempted to wonder if I had finally out-sinned the Lord’s patience and love for me and my family.

Four days ago on Easter Sunday, I was dreading the day. Weary and worn, the anticipation of disappointment my son might experience when he discovered that the Easter bunny had scaled back this year, was already stealing my joy. And sure enough, what my heart was dreading came to fruition.

I’ve learned that lectures don’t really produce a positive outcome when someone’s flipped their lid, so I reminded myself of that and urged my husband not to go there either. So as I sat with my child in his disappointment, I just reminded him that I understood and that his feelings mattered to me. As he lamented, he had questions. One question led to another and he decided he wanted to know the truth about the Easter bunny. Heartbroken that we were about to move into a different season of child-rearing and with as much transparency as I could offer, I told him the truth. I explained that all these years of excitement of waking up and finding treasures especially chosen for him and feeling known and loved was actually faith…believing deeply in something you couldn’t see with your physical eyes but knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it exists.

He regretted saying that he wanted to know. We both cried.

Fast forward to today. It’s been a terrible week. The enemy has threatened to destroy so much for us and we are all bone-weary. As we backed out of the garage to go to school this morning, I mentioned something to my son that did not sit well with him. In my own fallen nature, I dove into a lecture. How quickly I forget! 🤦🏼‍♀️ The more I talked, the more exasperated he became. I realized I needed to stop. So I backed out and we rode to school in silence. Almost there, he asked “Mom, are you mad at me?” And I said, “ No, not at all.”

In the drop-off line, I grabbed his hand and reminded him about our conversation on Sunday when we talked about the Easter bunny and having faith and believing in something we can’t see with our physical eyes. I told him that today we are going to put our faith in God and I’m going to say a quick prayer and ask him to show up for us in a big way today because He says in his Word to ask him for what we need. So I did just that.

​Right as I said amen we rounded the corner to the front of the school. Standing there were the players of our high school baseball team greeting students as they got out of the car. If you know my family or my son, you know what a big deal this was for him. I said, LOOK! The high school baseball team is here!!”His eyes lifted, a smile from the deepest part of him appeared on his face, and he exclaimed “YAY!” He jumped out of the car and made a beeline toward that group of boys who will never know that they were a huge answer to our prayers this morning.

I drove away tears flooding my eyes. I heard Him say, Girl, I’ve got you AND your kid who is more MY kid than yours.

God is real. He cares deeply about the things we care about. And He wants us to ask him for the things we need. I think I needed that reminder as much or more than my sweet boy who is just getting started in his journey of faith.

Lord, may we have the eyes to always see just how much you love us.

I have this thorn in my flesh that I have prayed, like Paul did, to be removed. It creeps up ever so often and I wonder, when it does, if I will ever learn to collaborate with Him to overcome it. I’m painfully aware at my need for Jesus…and maybe that’s why He doesn’t remove it fully from me. For if He did, I may become prideful and put my hope in my flesh. Lord, help me, I shudder to think who I would be without His humbling process and reminder of how desperately I need Him.

My Bible reading took me to Hebrews 7 this morning. There, I was reminded that the former law and rule keeping system for living makes nothing and no one perfect. It doesn’t get any of us to a higher level of eternal living or points in heaven just because we faithfully kept the rules and did the right thing our whole lives. No…instead we have a hope that is better than rule keeping that only requires a belief on our part and a confession with our mouth that Jesus is Lord.

Hebrews 7:27 says He sacrificed for their sins once for all when He offered himself.

Maybe you, like me, struggle with something that you can’t seem to overcome. Maybe you wonder if it will ever not have a hold on you. I want to remind us today that His grace is sufficient. It is sufficient for our mistakes. Our lack of rule keeping. Our guilt. Our sin. Our way. It is what Father God sees when He looks at us. It is Jesus and His precious blood covers us.

​ALL of us.

Colossians 3:13-14 (MSG)
So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.

I often forget that I’m chosen. I get into the rat race of life on earth and wonder why I’m dry spiritually and thirsty for a word from Him. Yes...I actually wonder that even though I know that
He never departs from me.
He’s always with me.
He never forsakes me.

​And when, by His Holy whispers, I come to, I’m awestruck as if it were my first glorious glimpse of Him.

I praise you Father for your work!

I decorated for Christmas early this year. If ever there was a year to do so, 2020 wins. It’s been the year that has not only threatened to rob our hearts of unspeakable joy, but also of peace, contentment, patience, and so much more.

With a rise in Covid-19 cases and lockdowns across the nation, it’s tempting to fret and worry over the threat of us being stripped of holiday gatherings and a million other things.

I’ve been needing relief for my own anxious heart. Fear, worry, and hopelessness have worked their way into my thought life. Frustrations at work, false perceptions, and downright lies have been a few of the fiery darts tossed my way, and joy has felt so far from my reach. One morning last week I was feeling especially vulnerable and in my quiet time reached for Hope. I don’t know why it always takes me by surprise, but Hope did not fail to show up. Quietly I was reminded of so many times in my past when broken things were fixed, storms ceased, and miracles occurred. He has always been faithful. Oh...SO faithful. And he reminded my forgetful and aging brain that He.Still.Is.Fatihful!! He will ALWAYS be faithful. He will never not be faithful.

Having a new perspective always allows me to see my current reality from a completely different angle. I am able to find the things in my life that truly give me joy and it for sure diminishes the size of my giants. Filling my home with my favorite holiday scents, sitting in my comfy chair with a hot cup of coffee, listening to my favorite Christmas songs, or journeying with the people that have been so meticulously placed in my life feel really big as gratitude for those things swell.

I know it’s not these things that bring joy. I’ve learned over and over that things and people come and go and the longing for them isn’t really a longing for them. I’ve discovered on more than one occasion that I only find the joy in those things when my time with Jesus increases in authenticity. My longing is for Him. He is what my heart wants. He is what I need. He the only thing in which I find unspeakable joy. He IS my joy. He IS my peace. He IS my hope. When I seek Him, I am able to enjoy the abundance of blessings with which I’ve been entrusted and the lies lose their foothold.

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:33‬ ‭NIV
​“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”‬‬

Last Tuesday marked the first day of my 30th year as an educator. That is surreal to me. It’s gone by so very quickly.

I remember my first day as a teacher not knowing how it would really be. Would I really be able to do what I had dreamed of doing since I was a little girl? Would my role as educator change the world like I had imagined? I recall being nervous and anxious and excited. What lay ahead of me was absolutely unimaginable.

Fast forward to the end of that same school year. I was tired. I was humbled. I was not certain I had chosen the right profession. But...June, July, and back then...August. Those three beautiful months gave back to me what had stirred in me my whole life and enabled me to show up for year number 2.

Every year since has been the same. The beginning ushers in hope, nervousness, and excitement while the end is marked with exhaustion, more humbling experiences to reflect upon, and uncertainty that I chose the right profession. As I look back on those things I wondered in my first year, I am confident now of the answers. I can do this thing I always dreamed about...not because I’m great and wonderful. Not because I am an expert. I only know this because I did it. Every single year. Did it look like I thought it would? Uhhhh...no. Did I do all the things and make all the improvements I wanted to every year? Haha...nope! Did I achieve great status, awards, or recognition? Not once. Did the world change because of my role as an educator? Yes...mine! I have no clue what kind of an impact I made on those whose path I’ve crossed but I know for sure that they ALL have impacted mine. I am better because of them.

I’m grateful for this profession and that I did not give up on it. It’s hard. It’s ever-changing and life-changing. It’s...in a word...amazing! If I had it all to do again, I would, with 100% certainty raise my hand and say, “Here I am. Send me!”

As I stand on the threshold of my 30th first day of school there is no doubt that my usual feelings will be magnified. The unknown for what this school year will bring is weighing heavily on the hearts and minds of educators everywhere. Twenty-twenty one will be like no other year before us, and school as we knew it could possibly look different from here on.

What I am certain of is we will show up...in classrooms, Zooms, offices, porches...wherever we need to, and we will try. We will endure. We will advocate. And we will persevere for the good of the children entrusted to us.

Here is one of the best gifts of my life laying out some really great advice for us all as we muster up the gumption to show up and rock yet another school year...

Sometimes I marvel at how far I still have to go in my journey toward wholeness and healing. I’m not sure why. I mean...I’m fully aware of my sin and weakness. I know that sanctification is a process I will experience till I take my last breath on earth. Maybe that’s part of my wretchedness...the prideful inkling that I have sometimes that I might actually get to a point where I have figured out how to do life and that I won’t have such a needy spirit.

There’s been a petition I’ve brought before God consistently in my adult life—a thorn in my flesh that I’ve tried to shake numerous times to no avail. Quarantine has brought it into light probably more than anything else I’ve ever lived through, so my prayers have really amped up around this part of me I long to let go of.

He has for sure heard that prayer because He’s given me test after test to take up that cross and follow Him. I’ve responded and reacted for so long the same unholy way, doing anything else is is frighteningly odd and foreign.

Not long ago, my husband started the process of the nighttime routine and told our little boy to get his pajamas on. He responded as an undisciplined 6-yo should...whining, becoming a limp noodle on the floor, and doing anything and everything except what he was told to do.

This is one of my triggers and there’s nothing my flesh felt the need to do more than take over this situation and force the little one into compliance. I wanted to raise my voice and lecture, but for some reason my tongue was on lockdown and I had no words. I couldn’t move either. So I sat...in silence...watching my husband parent in the exact opposite way that I would. I’m not sure what happened there because sitting quietly and holding my tongue is not me. I can only imagine that it was the mighty and powerful hand of God answering a prayer I’ve prayed for ages.

After it was all over and the little one was in bed, I had a gentle reminder that my Father is trying to teach me first time obedience as well. He wants me to give Him my harsh, angry responses and replace it with gentleness. He wants me to let go of trying to control my people so that He can. And for the love of His Holy Name he wants me to let my husband lead!! More often than not, I’ve responded to those things with whining and complaining and being a limp noodle on the floor.

I’m thankful He loves me too much to let me act the way that my flesh wants to. I’m thankful He has heard my prayers and cries for help. And I’m thankful He’s answering.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13:4-7