I stared out the window. The outside was about ready to teach my insides a deep lesson.
What caught my eyes were two birds frolicking, jumping and having fun. They didn’t care; they chased, played and enjoyed the beauty of the day. Before not too long, a few friends even joined in. Life seemed to be a blessing not a burden.
I think they had no idea of when the next storm was approaching, but all they same, it didn’t seem to matter.
They didn’t seem worried about what they didn’t have;
they just went about enjoying what they did.
What is it you don’t yet have?
What is it that distracts your eyes from beauty?
I know it’s crazy, but wonder if somehow birds have an understanding that we don’t, like:
1. God’s nature is to forever take care of me. It is impossible for him not too.
2. Every season eventually ends and God provides. I will trust that.
3. God is who he is. Just as he makes the sun come up every morning and the moon fall, he will be true to his word.
4. I don’t have to fear I’ll be hungry for my next best thing, God remains my best thing.
5. “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)
I want to be like these birds – free to fly high. Soaring. Enjoying. Living.
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Matthew 6:26
I try to store away so much:
Stress.
I fill myself with action plans.
Fear.
I load up on maneuvers to self-protect.
Distraction.
I let it divert my mind from what God wants to heal.
Frustration.
I let my storehouse get shaky because God hasn’t yet shown up.
What do you store in your barn?
When we fill our barns to the brink, we always feel about to sink.
But, when we trust that God will provide the next meal, we are ready to fly.
We break out of molds. We rise up from our nest. We don’t think about the next storm. We approach the edge of our safety and we jump out to dance in the air of providence.
We remember his voice of faithfulness, the “I will take care of you” voice. We hear it rise to its heights.
It sounds like:
1. Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” Gen. 28:15
2. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Heb. 13:8
3. Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. 1 Pet. 5:7
4. And Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today… (Ex. 14:13)
5. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)
God is calling us to delight in the gap between of uncertainty and his next big gift. Will we?
Will we choose to delight in his faithfulness or die in ungratefulness?
I don’t want to settle for second worst when I have second best. What I want to do is run, jump and fly with God to the places he has set to take me. Care to join me?
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Have you heard of circus slaves?It sounds odd, I know. But, it is a horrible and very real thing.
Imagine the music. The applause. The fanfare.
Children are led in, smiles taped on. A woman grips a rope with her teeth and spin herself around. An odd one, a short one and, perhaps, a misfit one, under age 10, contort themselves on stage. In India, they’re trapped. Perhaps, beaten. The rings, nor the stakes to perform, couldn’t be higher.
Deep calloused pain sits heavy for circus slaves.
The Show Goes On
I sat in megachurch, thinking, “Maybe the Pastor will notice me.” Maybe he’ll look over and say, “That one. I want to meet her. She’s something special.”
I tried extra hard, declaring, “The harder you work, the bigger you rise and the better the chance of going noticed and getting ahead.”
I sat blogging, praying, “If only (insert big name here) would help me. If I had her endorsement on my book that would mean everything. It would get my message where I only dreamed it could go.”
I sashayed as a child, planning, “I’ll sing. I’ll sing and dance. Surely they’ll see and adore me.”
Cutting the Music
There’s this pull for me to enter the grand tent of the circus–flying colors, flips and all.
Do you feel it too?
It’s an invitation to wow the crowds, to stand tall and to swing above the fray – up to the places where a platform is set just for you.
It’s the call to rise to greater heights. Do you know it?
It lures us with the thoughts like: I have to meet certain numbers. I have to appease publishers. I have to be the best dressed mom. I have to drive that car. I have to do as good as that person.
It plays out in our lives like: Checking in on where others are. Keeping an eye focused on the crowds. Getting consumed with self-tactics. Filling yourself up with either pride or self defeat.
After many shows, a girl gets tired of the big show. She starts to see that the tent really is full of hot air and it always falls down at days end.
The floodlights nearly blind me with truth: When we look for man to see or save us, we miss how God does. We miss God all together. And, if Jesus isn’t there, what’s there — is slavery.
“For freedom Christ has set us free;
stand firm therefore,
and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” Galatians 5:1
A girl stands there. A girl who realizes, “I am not performing, I’m just enslaving and depraving myself from God’s very best.”
She looks left and right and sees the others who are enslaved and depraved just like her. She sees ones trying and fighting, pining and clawing, hoping and dreaming to maybe be seen. Not all, but some, and her heart breaks for her fellow playmates who have been forced into hard labor, by themselves.
She calls out to them, “Let’s sneak outta here. I know the secret for us circus slaves,
want to hear it? It is the words of Jesus. . .”
“But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests.” Luke 14:10
Take the lower seat.
Sit down.
Serve.
Love.
Know Christ.
Let him recognize you.
When we sit with the other unseen and uncared for, we suddenly find that we are seen and cared for. We find that Jesus recognizes us, calls us friend and invites us to dine in his “best place.”
What could be better than that? It is called being freed to dine and delight in God. It is called your place to spin, sing, dance–a place where Christ sees and loves your every move made just for him.
Is Jesus inviting you there too?
Take the lower seat– that ends up being called the honored seat. It looks nothing like a flashy tent called slavery, because it is much more a heavenly seat called sitting right with Christ (Eph. 2:6).
Let’s go ladies, let’s go. Let’s go and remember it is not about how high we can rise, but really about how low we can go in service to Christ.
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It was the tipping point. The beginning of the fall. No, it wasn’t a crash, a sudden impact dive that you didn’t see coming. I saw this coming. I could feel it making its way toward me and yet, I was entirely helpless to stop it.
It was a slow, distinct unraveling. That moment where you can feel the wheels teetering ever so slightly out of balance until the whole thing comes unhinged. My heart, that is.
This was the season of my undoing.
I was quite certain I had never planned for this. My life was a well-structured agenda of fortitude, perseverance, accomplishments. They needed me in some misconstrued way, yet I needed them more.
From my earliest memories, I can recall that feeling, deep in my bones, that insane and horrific gnawing that I was not enough. That I would have to prove myself. I needed to be special. I needed to feel worthy. Loved.
I heard people say, If you try hard enough, you can accomplish anything.
I believed them.
So I set my face like flint against the wind, I measured my sails, and I set out to prove my worth to the world.
Whatever it takes, that was my motto.
Whether that meant hours of studying or practicing to be good enough. Whether it meant endless miles running wrapped in plastic wrap to be skinny enough, I did it. That was me.
I thought there would be some point where I arrived. Where I would attain. Where I would be enough.
Yet, inside I knew there was something adrift. If I was quiet enough, I could hear the tremors begin to quake. I felt the muffled pangs just beneath the surface.
I told myself, Just keep pushing and everything will turn out fine.
So I kept pushing. I pushed real good for awhile. I achieved what many said I’d never achieve. Nobody noticed the foundation beginning to crumble around me. I noticed.
I wanted to be healed. I longed to know what wholeness felt like. I craved peace more than anything I could imagine.
That must be for someone else, I thought, but it must not be for me.
I often felt like the woman in Scripture reaching out, desperate to touch the threads that lined the hem of Jesus’ robe. Surely if I could touch Him, she must have thought, then I would be healed. (Mark 5:21-34)
I understood the longing of the blind man, who day after day, hoped and prayed that he would one day see. How could he have known his Savior, his Healer would come with a little clay and a little spit near the pool of Siloam and give him everything he’d ever hoped for. How? (John 9:1-12)
I could see myself like Peter, shivering in the waves and wind as he stepped out of the boat onto the Sea of Galilee. If only I had enough fortitude to keep my eyes on Jesus, I could have walked on water without sinking beneath the waves of doubt and fear that pulled me under. (Matthew 14:22-33)
And then my healing came. Not in the way you’d expect. Jesus ushered me into a sacred place. A sacred season. Jesus led me to this season of healing and He never let go.
I heard Him whisper to me, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)
I needed rest.
God gave me rest and He gave me so much more. Over the years of my healing journey, I discovered an abundance that was more than I had ever imagined. God was showing me how to build and live a life of peace. It was all I had ever hoped for. Longed for. To breathe. To feel solid and sure. To experience wholeness. To experience abundance. Physical abundance, spiritual abundance, emotional abundance.
3 Ways To Walk From Pain to Peace
Embrace Maximized HOPE! – Without a doubt your hope lies first and foremost in the person of Jesus Christ. He is your foundation spiritually, emotionally, and physically. As you learn to appropriate His hope, His healing into the emotional area of your life, you will experience the fullness, the abundance of hope He promises.
Jeremiah 29:11(NIV) states, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Discover Complete WHOLENESS! – God wants you to be not only healed, but whole. God doesn’t want his children limping through life, barely surviving. He wants you to thrive. He wants you to discover your unique calling, your passion and purpose so that you can make a difference for His kingdom. As individuals become whole, the entire body of Christ becomes whole.
2 Timothy 1:7 (AMP) tells us that, “God did not give us a spirit of timidity (of cowardice, of craven and cringing and fawning fear), but [He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of calm and well- balanced mind and discipline and self-control.”
Enjoy Enduring HARMONY! – You were not meant to live in chaos. Your relationships were never supposed to be a rollercoaster of pain and disappointment. God wants us to learn how to foster peace and strength in our relationships so that we can enjoy them without being dependent on them for our happiness or wellbeing.
Romans 15:5-6 (AMP) shares, “Now may the God Who gives the power of patient endurance (steadfastness) and Who supplies encouragement, grant you to live in such mutual harmony and such full sympathy with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may [unanimously] with united hearts and one voice, praise and glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ (the Messiah).
This is the life God has for you. Don’t settle for anything less than Maximized Hope, Complete Wholeness and Enduring Harmony. In my book, Peace for a Lifetime– Embracing a Life of Hope, Wholeness, and Harmony through Emotional Abundance, I walk with readers through whatever season of life they are in, and lay out simple, practical life-steps that will help them find healing and will nurture abundance in every area of their lives.
You don’t have to keep trying so hard to prove your worth. You don’t have to keep pushing, hoping that everything will turn out okay. Healing isn’t just for someone else. Healing is for you.
Jesus is whispering to you, Come to me…
Will you come to Him today? Will you accept the peace He has for you? Will you let Him walk you from your season of pain right into His peace?
You can experience the love for which you long.
You can experience abundance beyond anything you can imagine.
You can experience peace, not just for today, not just for tomorrow.
You can experience peace —for a lifetime.
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About Lisa Murray
Lisa is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist, author, coffee lover, and wife. Her online community lisamurrayonline.com provides a compassionate place in the midst of the stresses and struggles of life. While she grew up in the Florida sunshine, she and her husband now live just outside Nashville in Franklin, TN.
About Peace for a Lifetime
In her new book, Peace for a Lifetime, Lisa Murray shares the keys to cultivating a life that’s deeply rooted, overflowing, and abundant, the fruit of which is peace. Through personal and professional experience as a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist, Lisa discovered how to take the broken pieces of life and find indestructible peace with herself, God and others. Through Lisa and other’s stories you’ll realize you can experience peace, not just for today, but you can experience peace —for a lifetime
I was in middle school, having the time of my life. One morning, I took off running after my friend at her beach house. Laughing, screaming, having fun, all was good until I fell and scraped my knee against the ground.
I screamed in pain.
She screamed that I should hush down.
I’m almost certain I screamed louder.
The gash ran deep, the pain was bad, but I felt like no one else really knew. It was my pain. It was my deal.
I can’t help but think I later delighted in the size of the scar; it seemed to prove my pain. It seemed to be the one marker of something I could show to others and say, “Look what I went through.”So much of everything else was unseen, but having people know, it meant something.
I look at that big chunk of ugly skin on my knee sometimes and remember things. I remember her, my friend; she is one of those girls who has a spirit, a joy and a life you can’t ever forget. All the same, I remember how our scars are ours and how they’re really just what we make of them. Victory markers or vile eaters of worth…
I’m making a choosing to see victory scars…
Lines that prove we actually got up and walked again. A threshold of pain we know we can conquer. The proof that we can and will endure. The reminders of those deep injured cells that cry out for self-care.
Each scar is worthy of a memory, a glance and a pondering.
You can choose which way you look at them, you know?
Scars can either bring us to victimhood or victory. The choice is ours.
Victimhood: I have been cut so much there is no way all the King’s horses or all the King’s men, could ever put me back together again. Things are said and done; I will live in pain and pain will come again and again. Good things don’t happen for me, one who looks far less porcelain doll and far more like the shredded woman in a horror film. I don’t know if I can take the idea of being cut again.
Victory: The wounds that look like they may kill me, have the greatest potential to heal me. They are what walk my feet right up to the throne of Christ, so I can see his wounds. The wounds that healed, saved and freed us all.
He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. Is. 53:5
Victory isn’t found through the absence of pain, but through God’s deliverance through it.
He was pierced (for us), he was crushed (to work through our issues), he received punishment (to bring us peace) and he was wounded (so we could be healed).
What deliverance might your battle wounds bring?
What might your victory story look like?
His wounds know our wounds. His pain understands ours. His love quenches our fear. He can’t help but heal; it is who he is and what he does. Healing may not always come on the exterior, but make no mistake it will remodel the interior. And to know this is to know victory.
I hated every moment of being cut. I probably spoke to God things non-repeatable on a blog like this. But, still, with him, we moved and went. I might have wondered how we would make it through, but I got to see how he could bring me through. And one thing I know is you can’t remove a woman from her miracle; it is something that lasts, like scars, and for this I am eternally thankful.
Jesus turns scars into memorials of his faithfulness.
I am not surprised that after he died and rose, he came back to earth scars front and center (John 20:27), I think he knew they weren’t something to hate, but to love, to hold and to remember. For in each scar, there is a story of redemption if we let it work for us.
What evil wanted to hurt me, Christ used to heal me. He wants to do the same with you too…
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I’m beginning to believe that the way we choose to see the circumstances of our lives is the big point.
Sometimes my vision is clouded with things I don’t enjoy about my current situation. When I’m focused on the problems I face, there’s little room in my heart to see the good. Instead, I’m chronically unhappy with the way things are.
Can you relate?
Other times, my eyes are full of what I think I need to improve upon everywhere I look, and then I fall into perpetual striving. I seek to make my life something better, and I miss the beauty of what’s already in front of me.
I’m talking about contentment, a way of seeing our lives with thankful eyes.
The way we see determines how we’ll experience our days. So how is your vision today? How do you choose to see?
Years ago, I named my blog, So Much Beauty in All This Chaos. God was teaching me then that His beauty is always around me. Even in the chaos that sometimes happens at home with the kids, even in the trials, even in my disappointment, He has planted so much beauty.
My job is to choose to see the beauty. My part is to call it out and thank Him.
I’ve struggled many times to see the beauty in my life when chaos crowds it out, and so I started naming the beauty whenever I could see it. I started to look for it.
~The way God met me there in that trial, the way He comforted me.
~The beauty inside the people He placed in my life for me to love, and the ways they love me back.
~The truth He speaks straight to my heart from His Word day after day.
~The sky and the birds and the rest of His incredibly gorgeous world which surrounds me.
I’ve learned the beauty goes on and on and on.
I’ve learned there’s always more, because I find it whenever I choose to look.
But sometimes I still return to my critical eyes, to my critical heart. Sometimes the details of life overwhelm me, and I find myself right back in that ugly, bitter place, where I have a really hard time seeing the good. Sometimes I wake up and it’s cold and I’m tired of doing the same old things another day, and maybe it’s just that I woke on the wrong side of the bed, but I’m just not happy with the way things are. I’m just not satisfied.
I don’t know about you, but I desperately need God’s vision–to see great things He’s already done.
To see all the beauty He’s planted between the rows of my chaos, in the middle of every day.
Where will you choose to see the beauty God has planted in your life today?
Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. Psalm 90:14
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Angela Parlin is Dan’s wife and Mom to 3 rowdy boys and 1 sweet girl. In addition to spending time with friends and family, she loves to read and write, spend days at the beach, watch romantic comedies, and organize closets. But most of all, she loves Jesus and writes to call attention to the beauty of life in Christ, even when that life collaborates with chaos. Join her each week at www.angelaparlin.com, So Much Beauty in All This Chaos.
When I was growing up I remember my mother’s friends dropping-in from time to time. It seems the art of the drop-in has been all but lost in our generation and I think it’s too bad.
Guests coming by unexpectedly can brighten our day if we let go of our need to have everything just the way we want it.
Sure, I appreciate a text or heads-up before my friends swing by unannounced—tightly wound woman here, remember? Butthere is beauty found in learning to be flexible.
God used a bible verse to illuminate my need for readjustment when faced with the unexpected.
“And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” -Matthew 18:5
In our case, we are actually welcoming a child into our family in late May. I want to receive this unexpected gift by welcoming her as I would welcome Christ, both into my home and heart. This verse in Matthew prompted me to examine whether or not I am receiving well or carrying on with a fast-paced, overly ambitious agenda, as usual.
Too often I miss the beauty in the unexpected because
I like to be in charge and set the plan for my days.
How about you? How do you respond when you are redirected or interrupted?
Will you choose to welcome the drop-in? Whether God is bringing a child, an unannounced guest or some other form of unexpected circumstances into your life, how will you receive it?
Will you drop what you’re doing to receive the drop-in or
insist on sticking to your agenda?
Maybe the drop-in is a creative assignment that has you shaking in your cowgirl boots?
Maybe the drop-in is a new friend that needs a lot of prayer and a listening ear?
Maybe the drop-in is a season of suffering that will refine you as gold?
Let’s embrace the unexpected, even when it’s inconvenient or intimidating. Let’s trust the God who dropped love into our lap when we were lost in sin.
Let’s continue this discussion over at Katie’s place. Today the #RaRaLinkup is being hosted at Katie M. Reid’s blog.Click this link to join us…
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I’ve noticed, I am the type that reacts:
A person says something slightly offensive. I take it personally.
My friend makes a comment on how I can improve. I feel thrown off.
My husband gives a suggestion. I get sensitive.
I have noticed this internally too:
I mess up. I get angry at myself–even after I have confessed it.
I get far from God. I burden myself with things I must do to get closer.
I get distracted from people and life. I feel that coming back around to them will be hard.
It all comes down to doubt, doesn’t it? Doubt that God is good enough to handle my baseline fears. Doubt that God will come through when I can’t. Doubt that I really can be better than I am today, right?
Doubt is the undercurrent that drags us away from God. Doubt is the driver of most dumb moves. Doubt is the deliverer of the desperate to dealings with the devil.
I know this sounds extreme, but it is true. Push Jesus 5 steps away from your heart and that is a 5-step opportunity for the opponent to rush in to make you question everything.
We tend to believe in this thing called,
“the benefit of the doubt,” but I think what we really need to believe in is
“the benefit of grace.”
That person cuts you off on the road. “She must be having a hard day. God bless her as she drives home.” Benefit of Grace!
That supposed friend ignores you at church. “Perhaps she has her own fears. Maybe I can send her an email and check in.” Benefit of Grace!
That kid again doesn’t listen. “Hmm…it is not that they don’t respect me, but it’s that they want to have a little say. Let me remind them of God’s love and his never ending source of power in them a little later.” Benefit of Grace!
That man wants to be a show off and be prideful again. “Maybe he so fears loss of control, he has to overcompensate by having all control. Affirm him.” Benefit of Grace!
I did that thing I didn’t want to do. Now, I can’t ever let it go. “Jesus already let it go on the cross. He keeps no record of wrongs. He waits for you.” Benefit of Grace!
I am far from God. It is all my fault. I have no idea what to do. “Jesus knows this too; he is not angry with me. He waits and hopes that I can draw near and find his love.” Benefit of Grace!
Finding the benefit of grace, means we finding a wellspring of peace. Discouragement gets covered by the sacrifice of Living Water and we wade in the encouragement that this hope brings.
Grace makes us see perspectives differently.
With grace, we notice:
God works far better than we ever could.
The small thing he’s doing, rather than what we’re ruining.
We build into relationships, rather than destroy them.
Our hope for the hopeless situation – and a will to continue on.
We notice that mistakes, errors and offenses aren’t beacons of our future,
but undercover blessings helping us to forge trust that lasts.
Stepping back means we get to see God’s restoration step in, both in our lives and in the life of another.
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Don’t forget, because this is vital:
Live your life in a way where you can look back and say – for Jesus – I did everything I could.
Not because you had to, but because you wanted to…
Not because you were earning something, but because you were loving the one thing.
Do it, so that one day you see yourself:
Victorious, dressed in white (Rev. 3:5)
Acknowledged, not blotted out, before Father God and his angels. (Rev. 3:6)
Seated with Jesus, just as Jesus is seated with the Father (Rev. 3:21)
How do you practically live like this? What does this mean for you and me?
It means we hear beyond the sound and the thrills and the notifications of this world. It means we have ears to hear (Rev. 3:6) what God most desires. It means we focus on the limited running of time, the blip that is our life, to see the ongoing riches of the cross.
We stay eternally minded, and remember, we are earthly endangered.
He is “coming soon. Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take your crown.” (Rev. 3:11) What we have is eternity.
The victorious become part of the temple of God (Rev. 3:12). Will that be you? Will that be me?
I don’t want to be so lost in this world, that I lose the greater vision of God that will endure forever. I don’t want to bow down to stress and anxiety only to stand up and realize that I missed greatness, glory and holy. I don’t want to get it all here, and miss it all there.
Do you know what I mean?
There is no hidden agenda or secret formula. The path is clear. Here’s what it looks like to be a type that can look back and say, “I did everything I could”:
1. Wake up! (Rev. 3:2)
2. “Strengthen what remains and is about to die” – leave no good deed unfinished. (Rev. 3:2)
3. Remember what you have received and heard; hold it fast. (Rev. 3:3)
4. Turn yourself back to face Christ. (Rev. 3:3)
5. Be ready. I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what time I will come to you. (Rev. 3:3)
He is coming not to hurt us, but to love us.
Not to tear apart believers, but to keep them.
He encourages our heart (Jo. 16:33) with the force of heaven.
The Spirit pleads (Ro. 8:26) for our win and Jesus does as well (1 Jo. 2:1).
Don’t give up.
Don’t lose hope.
It is a race.
We are winning.
God is for us.
He is helping
We are not alone.
He will lift us when we fall low.
He will guide us when we don’t know where to go.
So, put a stake in the ground and declare, “Jesus, again, I hand it all to you. I am all in.”
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The morning was full of potential. I got up on time, didn’t check social media, and made the kids breakfast.
Then, after dropping my son off at the bus stop, I checked my email. And everything went downhill.
The intent of the message was positive. My reaction to it was not.
This successful blogger wanted to let me in on all of the secrets to success. And I’m sure deep down somewhere that I craved this knowledge.
But what I saw? The numbers. How many readers visited her site. How much income she brought in each month. It was though these stats represented some invisible gate-keeper and I was stuck on the outside, pushing a door that wouldn’t budge.
Comparison turns our vision into opposition. It turns our joy into jealousy.
As I sat there that Tuesday morning basking in self-pity, and knew I needed an attitude adjustment. And do you know what’s beautiful about asking God to change your attitude?
He always answers.
Sometimes he asks us to take a good long look at ourselves. Other times he sends a word of encouragement through a friend or family member. But he never fails to deliver.
On this particular weekend in mid-winter, he drew my attention to my kids. Particularly my oldest son.
My firstborn delights in new responsibilities, no matter how small. You can give him the house key to open the side door as you labor up the steps with groceries, and he will skip to complete the task.
But more than that, he does it with love. Which is something I forgot in my moment of temporary insanity and comparison.
As my son grows older, my husband and I increase his jobs around the house. He takes care of the pets and helps clean up around the house, and we reward him for his efforts. But we don’t start him off with a huge list of chores to do. Nor do we trust him things we know are beyond his ability.
If we look at scripture, God follows the same pattern. When we first read of God’s call on David he is out in the middle of a field, tending sheep. When the angel of the Lord appears to Moses, he is tending the flock as well.
The Lord is pleased when we take the same care with the small as we do with the big. As a matter of fact, the Word tells us he “rejoices” in it.
“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin…” Zechariah 4:10 NLT
Friends, God does not see our work in the same way we do. And aren’t you glad? With each step you take to glorify his name and make him known, he is honored. He rejoices over you.
The absolute best words we could expect to hear from God on the other side of this life are, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
Not, “Congrats on all the followers you had on Twitter,” or “That was a really solid platform you spent all those years building.”
It’s his platform, not ours. Let’s remember that even in the small, he is always faithful.
Even when we misstep.
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Abby McDonald is a writer who can’t contain the lavish love of a God who relentlessly pursues her, even during her darkest times. When she’s not chasing her two little boys around, she loves hiking, photography, and consuming copious amounts of coffee with friends.
I can’t believe I am saying this. With this admission, it seems like stadiums of people might stand up and boo me. It feels like there should be a grand coronation with a broken crown, for me, the mom who stinks the most. And here is why (and boy, do I hate to admit this): I hate playing with my kids.
There you have it.
Give me games, give me coloring, give me a purpose, but give me a room and a little one dreaming of pretend games – and I am lost.
I know, I hate me too; I see the other moms.
I am not like them: the ones who get on the floor for hours, aching back and all, the ones who are 110% in at the park and the ones who crafting all day long.
These women, they make me look bad; they point out the truth: I am not enough.
Are you hearing the voice of not enough too?
Not enough at work? Not enough with your family?
Not enough with your friends? Not enough of anything?
I could see “not enough” every time I looked into that innocent face. I could see it in his eyes – I was letting him down. Every look at him seemed to speak, Kelly:
You are a failure mom. Your kids won’t love you. You are not enough. You will always stink.
If we aren’t careful, our failure will attempt to define our future.
This thought made me sit upright at the prospect of something deeper a nugget: If our thoughts are trying to kill relationship, rather than build relationship, they probably are not from God. This truth hit me like a lightbulb.
Then, I started to think:
Evil wants to make our perceived failure into our destined future. It wants to hand us an eternal label that says, “Unstable and liable to fail.” It wants to rip apart our families with the lie, that things can’t change.
It is at work to tell us, “You stink and can’t ever be better.”
This message always leads us to do one of three things:
1. Give up because we know how worthless we are.
2. Get mad at others because we feel angry that they are making us be this way.
3. Overdo it by being too involved, controlling or overbearing.
That evening, I decided to take a step back from my truth, the truth I didn’t like to play. I looked at it for what it is: I don’t like pretend, I do like the zoo. I don’t like pretend, I do like cooking. I don’t like pretend, but I do do fun things.
The fact that I don’t like pretend does not equal the fact that my son doesn’t love me. LIE!
It does not equal the fact that I am bad mom. LIE!
It does not equal a standing of doomed mother. LIE!
Relieving myself of the pressure, left me room to consider. It left room for me to love myself and him without getting burned. Stepping back leaves room for God to starve the bad and to feed in the good.
Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. Jo. 15:13
Jesus laid down his life for me. I have a little one that I can lay my life down for too.
I can sometimes do what I don’t like, I can play pretend, because I love him. I love him so much. I love with big and bold and wide open love. And, with Christ, we can do things we don’t like, even if we fail, even if we end up eventually yelling, “Get in the car. We are making an emergency trip to the library.” Even then, we are okay.
The love of Christ leave us, always, more than okay; it can’t go anywhere on the children of God. It always sees, always cares and always endures.
Shame has no place in the center of love.
Shame can’t exist in the presence of patience.
Shame can’t grow amidst self-forgiveness.
And, so we look at ourselves and say, “If Christ can love me like this, I guess I can love me too.” For, how can we really love, if we don’t have a base of love to work from?
‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12:31
If I find his love in me, Christ’s love will work through me.
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Lisa
In her new book, 
