As I entered the restaurant, what seemed to be a million people scuffled around trying to find a table. Was there a table for me?

I spotted a row of empty tables lined up a corner. Great. There still is a place. People must have transitioned from these tables, after breakfast. So, I pulled what seemed like a 50-lb table away from the rest.

The restaurant was filling and filling, fast. I felt so grateful to have a place to sit. Adjusting my stuff, I heard someone call out loudly in the restaurant, “Excuse me.” I didn’t lookup. They couldn’t be talking to me.

Then, I heard it again. “Excuse me, mam!” I looked up, everyone staring at me.

“That table is reserved. You cannot sit there.” He screamed from a counter 20-feet away.

You are not good enough for that table.

Embarrassed, I stood. “Busted,” I hated that there wasn’t a “reserved” sign on the table. Caught, he just went back to his work. Wrong, I put my head down and walked away.

I was not good enough to sit at “that table”.

Kind of like the time I wasn’t good enough to sit at the special table with the special people because they were a little bit higher and more important than me. Or, when I wanted to be known and the ‘known-figure’ had no idea who in the world I was. Or, when I desired to be acknowledged for what I gave and people walked right past me to the next girl, the more popular one.

There is no place for you, Kelly, at the table.

“The table is not reserved for you – and it never will be. Scram!”

I went in the bathroom and cried.

I cried out to God, “Father, why is this hurting me so much? Why am I being triggered by a stupid table?”

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.” Ps. 23:5 ESV

It’s as if God said, “Kelly, it is not the reserved tables, where you want to be, but the table with me – where you will become free.”

I went outside and sat in my car. There, I ate some nuts from my purse and let Jesus love me whole again. It wasn’t a seat in that restaurant that was most favored or blessed. It was that seat in my car. God met me there. He encouraged my heart.

God’s seat is our best seat. Where He speaks and loves us is the place of wild wholeness.

Prayer: God, I want to be where you are. Help me to stop looking at other people’s place-settings. What you give me is good. It is good for my soul, my walk and my wholeness. Thank you for leading me in your love. Thank you for setting me aside and marking my holy. Thank you that my hurts, healed, are now being used for your glory. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Get all Purposeful Faith blog posts by email – click here.

Post By:  Kara Lawler

My morning shuffle takes about an hour, and as soon as I pulled into the parking lot of my school this morning, my cell phone rang.  It was my son’s teacher.  Not even an hour after I dropped him off for the day and headed to my job as a high school English teacher, he felt sick and wanted to come home. He specifically asked for me to come and get him.

I made arrangements at school and turned around to pick him up.  He had to wait for me because my school is 30 minutes from his, and when I did finally get there, he seemed like he just wanted to come home.  He had a belly ache and whispered to me, “I missed you.”  And he grabbed my hand.

We got home and I poured him a 7-up and got him a snack and as it seemed, he wasn’t all that sick after all.  I tried not to be annoyed and it was then, as I fought back my feelings of frustration, that I noticed his hands.  As he sat, eating the bagel and muffin he asked for, I watched his hands. For some reason, I couldn’t stop staring at his hands.

His face is thinning out and his neck is elongating.  When he crawls into my lap, I can feel ribs where I once only felt the cushion of a baby, toddler, boy.  His arms and legs are starting to form muscles, and he started to lose teeth this past fall.  All of his pants are suddenly too short, and his hair, once blonde, is growing darker by the day.  All of those facts are reminders that he’s growing up and will be seven this summer.  And while his hands have changed and thinned out, too, they still look like the hands of a little boy–my little boy.

And as I sat, watching him eat his bagel and wondering if he had just been hungry after all, his hands reminded me that he still needs his mama.  And for whatever reason, he needed to hold my hand today when he really should have been at school.  And for most of the day, we sat like that–his hand in mine.   I think it was just what the doctor ordered.

Later, he wrote me a poem to thank me for coming to get him because he knows words are the greatest gift for me.  As he gave me the poem, he told me his belly felt so much better when he saw me.  This boy who holds my heart in the palm of his hand wrote:

“You say you love me.
I love you more.
I love you 100+44.
You are my best friend. ”

And you know what?  Today, he just needed me, I guess.  And while I know this can’t continue (and we had that talk), I’m glad he knows I will come to him in his time of need.  My vocation is to be his mother, to hold his hand like Jesus holds both of ours.  I will hold his hand.  And while my job isn’t to be his best friend, it’s my greatest honor that he thinks I am, in the here and now.  It’s days like today that I will treasure when these hands turn into the hands of a man.

There’s nothing holier than holding the hands of those we love and sitting with them when they need us. I hope you take some extra time to hold hands with someone you love for just a bit longer. Holy, free for the taking.

*If you liked this story about staying grounded in the moment, you might like her new book, EVERYWHERE HOLY: Seeing Beauty, Remembering Your Identity, and Finding God Right Where You Are, available now everywhere books are sold. www.everywhereholy.com

BIO:

Kara Lawler is a mother, wife, teacher who grew up in and lives again in the Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania, part of the Appalachian Mountain Range.  Kara’s work has been featured in many media outlets and some of her essays have been read millions of times.   She has been married to her high school sweetheart for close to 18 years.   After struggling with depression and anxiety, Kara remembered and accepted her identity—the person God made her.  Kara loves children, animals, and drinks her coffee on her porch every morning, no matter the weather, so she can admire the mountain view and listen to her rooster, Henry, greet the dawn.

I sat on the curb after practice, wondering, “Is mom ever going to come?” It was a particularly hard high school year. For one, my nose got hit with a field hockey stick. Even today, it sits a little crooked. And on this particular day, after all those sprints, shooting pains shot up my legs. I could hardly sit. Every position was agony. So with my teammates long gone, I moaned. Then, I replayed everything: the shots I didn’t make, the girls that were faster than me, and how I must have looked downright stupid.

Five minutes turned into twenty. Would she ever come?

Times of waiting are battles – the sense of “not knowing” compounds everything. Here, we tend to think, “If she isn’t there for me, God won’t be there either. I’m unworthy. I’ll be left behind. I brought on this problem. I’m stuck. Bound to fail. Surely, I’ll make a fool of myself again.”

I find it is here that old injuries, gut-wrenching feelings of abandonment, and age-old failures come back to attack. They often rob our faith.

Yet, I can’t help but wonder: If waiting times aren’t uncommon to Biblical men and women, why do I think they’ll be uncommon to me?

I mean, Sarah waited decades to have a baby. Blind people waited what probably felt like forever to be healed by Jesus. Mary waited while Jesus grew up. The other Mary waited for her brother Lazarus to get healed. Moses waited to get out of Egypt. Jesus waited decades to start His ministry, then about three years to die on the cross to defeat death.

Even in the worldly sense, waiting times have value. A delayed inheritance makes a son wise. A pregnant mother gives nine months time for the baby to grow. A toddler girl learns to swim before jumping in the deep end.

What if our times of waiting aren’t meant to torture us, but to grow us? And to prepare us for a greater land ahead?

“The land you are entering to take over is not like the land of Egypt, from which you have come, where you planted your seed and irrigated it by foot as in a vegetable garden… It is a land the Lord your God cares for; the eyes of the Lord your God are continually on it from the beginning of the year to its end.” (Deuteronomy 11:10, 12, NIV)

The new land has new terrain. New obstacles. New preparation is needed for that place.

Consider, if you want to adventure through new terrain, you must prepare for it. If you’re traveling over rocky ground, you need the right wheels. Perhaps an SUV. If you are climbing a new mountain, you need to have a harness, and one you trust. Waiting gives us time to prepare to go to the places God has planned for us.

We can wait well. Here are few ways to do just that:

One: Remember the cross.

Encourage yourself by saying, “Jesus’ sacrifice fully covers me and now protects me from any assaulting words of the enemy. Even if I don’t do things perfectly, through the sacrifice of Christ, I am hidden in Christ.”

Two: Reconsider who you are.

Think, “I am a daughter of the most-High King. He knows how to take care of me.”

Three: Reestablish who God is.

Say, “God is on my side. He will pull through for me, help me and rescue me. I can trust Him.”

Four: Remind yourself: Waiting ground is faith-proving ground.

Choose to delight in and dwell on the little blessings God gives day-to-day.

Five: Reflect on the learnings.

Encourage yourself by saying, “God, teach me what I need to know through this time of wait, so I can grow in faith.”

Get all Purposeful Faith blog posts by email – click here.

“The greatest of these is love.” (1 Cor. 13:13)

Who is God calling you to love?

Love is not always simple. Love costs something. Love is paramount in God’s Kingdom. It makes up the pinnacle moments in our life.

We tend to think it is what we’ve obtained. A level or a status. A house and some stuff to pass down to our kids. A good sense of self. A fine and respectable status amongst men. God conveys, “Nope. It’s love.”

Love me with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and love your neighbor as yourself.

Everything else is peripheral; love is the main thing.

Who are you loving? Who is God calling you to more greatly love? Don’t fear the outcome.

The outcome belongs to the Lord. The out-working work of love belongs to us.

And, it starts with us and God in the quiet. In the reality of what we face. In the truth of our heart. In the call of our soul.

Us, looking up to Him. Him, pouring out the love, grace, and mercy we so desperately need. We look-up. He pours down. We go out. He gives us the love to hand-out.

Are you making time for God’s love to so work in you that it flows out of you?

It’s a worthy question. Because the greatest of all things, the most enduring — of all things — is love.

Get all Purposeful Faith blog posts by email – click here.

God was leading me to attend an event. I didn’t want to attend, but, at the same time, I believed God wanted me there. It was freezing cold outside; I was warm inside my house. It took everything in me to pull myself off my chair and to head outside. But, desiring to be obedient, I did.

The only issue was — upon arrival, no one was there. The room was empty. Silent. Did I get the date wrong? Why Did God bring me here?

Absolutely nothing was going on.

I sat down on the one the chairs and said, “But God, I thought you had a plan for me to be here? I was trying to be obedient… But, nothing is here.”

At that moment, I was internally reminded of God’s biblical knack to bring something out of nothing…

The blind man can see nothing, but because of Jesus — He can now see something.

The lame can do nothing, but by just a few words, the man finds he can get up and do something.

Death brings Jesus to what appears to be nothing — yet resurrection life provides us something, everlasting life.

There, all alone in that room — I was reminded that our God takes what looks like nothing and can make it into something — brilliant, powerful and wonderful. Extremely life-changing.

What ‘nothing’ are you facing? Nothing much of a future? Nothing to look forward to? Nothing in your bank account? Nothing left to believe? Nothing left to give?

I don’t think Jesus is fazed by nothing like we are. He knows — He can always make it, something. Just like He did for me in this room.

What might begin to happen if you started to look, expectantly — at your nothing — with the firm belief that God could make it — something?

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Ro. 8:28)

Get all Purposeful Faith blog posts by email – click here.

I read a Facebook post by a Christian encouraging other Christians. . . it essentially said, “If you are left out of a get-together, don’t be offended. Some people want to hang out with other people. When they do, don’t be insecure about it. . .”

Something about the message didn’t sit right. Maybe it was because I was the ‘new person’. . . Maybe it was because I desire new friends. . . Maybe it was because I supposed the writer of it had a million people she was hanging out with. . . meanwhile, sad-people were left at home. The idea of it hurt me a little.

Not wanting to think too much about it, I navigated off that Christian webpage. I landed on my Facebook feed. There. I saw all sorts of secular posts.

One caught my eye. A woman wrote something like, “No matter where you are, remember there may always be someone who feels left out. . . be sure to include them. Think of them. Remember, that could be you. . . ”

Something like sadness filled me. Why is it the non-Christian post is more grace-filled than the Christian-post? And, how often is this the case?

I just sat there staring at the screen.

How often do I proclaim Jesus, but when push-comes-to-shove, or when the-rubber-meets-the-road — I don’t show Him? Instead, I seek my own convenience. I push my own agenda. I want what is good for me. . . I cause division rather than unity.

I am just as guilty as the Christian-writer I judged.

But, I don’t want to remain this way. I want to be the real-deal. I want to be pure and true. I want to be honest and inclusive. I want to think of the least of these.

God, help me. 

I’m not sure I’m there yet. But, I want to be. For to be this way, is to be like Jesus. It is to be a magnet for those: seeking love, desiring more, wanting to be included, hoping to be seen as they are and wishing they were wanted. It is to be like Jesus, who died with arms wide-open.

It is to resurrect faith in each other. It is to see people for who they are and to love them anyway, unconditionally.

“Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are his dear children.” (Eph. 5:1 NLT)

Get all Purposeful Faith blog posts by email – click here.

This week, it is the time of year when almost EVERYONE comes out with their New Year resolution. On purple images, one person shares their dream to conquer their business, another person posts a long sentimental post about how they are going to be present more.

I don’t know why friends, but sometimes, I feel jaded about all these resolution posts. Maybe its because I’ve failed a time or two…and sometimes it is just easier to give up and to judge others than it is to keep trying…

…Anyway, I am trying again. Because, if God doesn’t give up on me, why should I give up on working with Him, in order to be like Him.

This year, I am pressing into one simple word: Patience.

Patience, that still listens and cares — when others talk too much.
Patience so that I don’t quickly cut-off others off with my views when they are sharing important heart-stories.
Patience that allows others to go before me.
Patience that trusts God to show up, more than it feels it has to cut its own Amazon rainforest path.
Patience that believes in people’s change — and my own — even if it is slow-coming.
Patience that keeps faith that God’s work is happening even if a breakthrough feels far.
Patience that endures through hard-conversations to see better outcomes come to life.
Patience that doesn’t respond quickly with anger or annoyance.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” (Gal. 6:9)

I don’t want to give up. What about you? Is there something God is calling you to work with Him on? You don’t face it alone. You don’t go at it without help.

As you consider this “resolution”, I hope to encourage you with three ideas, I’ve learned over the years…

Sometimes there is value in:

One: Keeping it Quiet.

Even though I shared with you all today, not everyone needs to know your goal. Sometimes, if we think others notice our botch-up, we are more likely to quiet. Pick one or two encouragers and then keep the rest to you.

Two: Defining it.

Just as I defined what I meant by my goal, the more you can add clarity around it — the more easily you’ll be able to see it through.

Three: Giving yourself a ton of grace.

Allow this change to be so full of grace, you will keep trying to the end of the year. Giving-up is usually an indicator that we have stopped giving our self grace.

Get all Purposeful Faith blog posts by email – click here.