I used to think I didn’t struggle much with worry.
And then I became a Mom a decade ago. Suddenly there were so many what ifs to contend with. My imagination easily ran off to terrifying places, thinking two steps ahead of them, often fearing the worst.
Sometimes still, I get caught up in a whirlwind of worry, even though I know I don’t get to control things. Even though my trust in God has grown.
Shakespeare said cowards die a thousand deaths, and the brave die only one. I’ve heard a variation of his quote, which rings true for me:
“Some people die a thousand deaths before they die one.”
(Author Unknown)
I know the truth of my thoughts and my imaginations. I don’t tend toward bravery, but fear. How many deaths have I died in my head, or how many deaths have I feared for my loved ones?
What about you? Do you get trapped in worry? Have you grieved for those you haven’t even lost? Do you try to figure out the future, even though you have no power there?
When I’m stuck in worry, my best response is to turn each concern into a prayer, and to listen.
I am God, He says.
I am a good God, He says.
Trust me, He says.
He calls me to hand over all of my concerns to Him, each time they find their way back into my mind.
He calls me to bring my life before Him, to bring my loved ones’ lives before Him, day after day, and to place them in His hands.
He calls me to come to Him in prayer, to lay out the pieces of my life, to entrust it all to Him.
He calls you to all of the same.
When worry takes over, what we need most is to find our way back to the quiet, to fix our eyes upon Jesus once more. There, He speaks kindly to us, transforming and renewing our minds.
There, peace takes over, and worry morphs into trust.
We stop trying to carry our hurts, our struggles, our pain on our own.
We stop trying to bear our burdens–both our real ones and our imaginary ones–apart from the God who holds the whole world in His hands.
And when the worries return, as they often do, the Lord invites us to trust Him again, because He is God and He is good.
Some people die a thousand deaths before they die one, and I don’t want to be that person anymore. Lord, help us to live in peace instead of worry, to trust you with all the pieces of our lives.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Colossians 3:15
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you; I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid. John 14:27
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Angela Parlinis a 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 at www.angelaparlin.com, So Much Beauty In All This Chaos.
I could feel it – but I didn’t want to “feel” it. I didn’t want to deal. I didn’t have time for it.
I was too busy living days of baby insanity –
coping with a screamer who didn’t know night from day or day from night,
that mom sometimes needs 5-minutes without high-pitched wails and
that spit-up is actually the worst kind of perfume.
Babies don’t get all that.
So, even though my legs were going numb and my vision was faltering, I ignored it. Even though it seemed I was wearing 3-D checkerboard glasses of black & white, I said, “Plug on! Mamma, ain’t got time for that.”
Pull, it together, body, you can do it. We have feedings, poopings and sleepings to handle.
But, as avoidance always does, it catches up; it grabs an just an inch of your leg and doesn’t let go. It always leaves you with the stark reality of all that is happening and a feeling that you won’t survive.
The words Multiple Sclerosis hit me like a freight train. I longed for those spaces of denial once again. Safe spaces. Known spaces. Comfortable spaces. But, I found myself in hated spaces – waiting rooms.
My waiting rooms turned into fearing rooms with cool magazines and no windows.
My waiting rooms turned into holding cells where worst-case dreams come true.
My waiting rooms turned into agony for ones who hate being hurt.
And, the thing about waiting rooms, is they don’t have to be windowless to trap you.They don’t have to be small to make you claustrophobic with the thought you will never breathe the same again.
I waited to be tested to see if I was going to spend a good part of my life in a wheelchair, to see if the face of my life would be forever changed and tested by God for who knows why.
I wanted to say, “I trust you,” but all I could mutter was “set me free.”
I wanted to say, “your will be done,” but all I could think was “change my situation.”
I wanted to say, “help all the other people with issues that sit around me,” but I could only whisper “get me out of this torture chamber.”
Aren’t we all stuck in a place of wait – in one way or another?
Waiting.
Waiting for a cure.
A release.
A pain to go away.
Deliverance from finances.
A Job Solution.
Children Worries.
Fears.
Family dysfunction.
Relationships.
A legal issue.
An unreachable dream.
A let down.
We are all waiting.
Our waiting rooms can make us feel like an imposition, relying on a paper prescription, that keeps us focused on our affliction. Our waiting rooms seem to hold us captive by an assailant who says, “You will never come through. I will get you.” Our waiting rooms become fights against life, where we always become the projected loser.
What do you when everything is breaking?
When your very body can’t seem to deal with life?
For me, my screaming baby midnight hall walks, turned into screaming midnight baby prayer talks. I called from the depths of my heart for a “great fixing” of all that was wrong. So did my husband, so did countless others.
Sometimes, all you have left to do is pray.
And, sometimes, all you needed to do was pray.
Prayer opens the waiting room door to the Great Physician.
His healing work may not always bind up broken bodies,
but it is always binds up broken hearts.
His surgeries always work,
always bring newness, always surface peace.
His work turns fearing rooms into hoping rooms –
because he clears new room for love.
There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. 1 Jo. 4:18
My doctors were positive of MS. My symptoms said yes, but test after test after test – after multiple MRI’s – they still couldn’t fully diagnose me. So, what was a certain reality, became certainly “not MS.”
God hears prayers. Miracles can – and sometimes do – happen. But, sometimes the greatest miracle is not the answer to the prayer, but God’s answer in to what plagued our heart.
He always goes for the greatest healing.
So, don’t give up because you think the great physician has left the office.
Don’t give up because you feel forgotten.
Don’t give up because he is attending to others first.
God has the perfect course of action for you.
He hasn’t forgotten you.
He asks you, will you trust me?
Will you believe that in this wait I have something amazing for you?
And, as we do, he does something amazing.
He changes it all.
Our fearing rooms turn into trusting rooms. Our holding cells turn into praying cells. And, our fear turns into a deep knowledge God is near.
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This was kind of a thing in my house. If something went missing into the great abyss and you were at that point (you know, the one where your ready to pull out every last hair), the accusations would start flying.
Suddenly, all people in the house became, not family members, but culprits. Bad guys, not common blood. Offenders, not friends – who should be charged, judged and accused. Suspicions would run high. Who misplaced that item?
Why is it so easy to point the finger?
To blame? To say something like, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”
I at because of him! It wasn’t me! You see that bite in the apple? Not may fault! Him! That one! Look over there. Blame him.
We hunt for relief from our shame, a shelter from the burden, a hope that we don’t have to carry its load. Can I offload on you?
God’s big lesson is less in Eve’s response and more in his question, “What is this you have done?” Gen. 3:13
He knew what she did, but wanted her to know too.
Hitting a hard realization, often pushes us away from immediate rationalizations.
Knowing he sees us, is knowing we can’t pull a fast one on the great one.
The beginning of recommission, often starts at admission.
In fact, just hearing his voice – and answering it – makes us immediately aware of where we stand – naked and hiding in a bush deathly afraid.
We push away our sin on to someone else because we don’t want it to land on us. It would wreck our good girl image, our seemingly great place and space in God’s garden, our joy in being free as a child of God, or so we think.
So, we scramble and pick up the gameboard of God’s players and try to scramble the board, we mess up progress in a way where no one knows who did what – hoping that chaos will realign the whole mat.
But, we forget who the master player is, don’t we? The one who stands it all the whole time. Just like a kid getting ready to cheat, our moves are made from the same place – we want to win in the end.
I do. I don’t want to disappoint him. I don’t want to let him down. I want to stay child – numero uno. I want to be in good graces. I want to still be loved.
And, that, right there, is the greatest lie of the devil isn’t it? That if we bite into the apple that we will never be loved again. He gets us on that one.
It’s our biggest fear, it’s what makes us rip off our clothes in shame, hide in a bush and beat our knees together out of a pulsating heart of fear.
But, here, we listen to the wrong voice. The other voice, the voice of God says, “You can’t do something that will ever make me stop being something, doing something or giving something for you.”
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Ro. 8:38-39
When we stand on God’s ground, we stand on loved ground.
When we find Christ, we are branded as his.
When we find love, we can’t be thrusted outside of its confines, no matter how bad we act.
With these anchors as our holders, we can be okay with God’s instruction that “each one should carry their own load.” Gal. 6:5
We can carry our own load, because Christ carried his all the way to the point that complete forgiveness was poured out.
In the end, we will be okay. We will be pulled in tighter than a mom with a loved child. We will be held close as our mouths force out the words, “I am sorry.” We will find the lesson under the mat of the gameboard and it will bring us closer to God.
We will look at ourselves and see – we were wrong.
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Mommy, I am going to play doctor. This came as no surprise to me as we had just returned from the doctor’s office, but what came next totally hit me.
“Sit.” Mikey said in a high pitched doctor voice, “Here little honey, here’s a sticker for you, sweet thing. Choose out which one you like. I hope you like it. Now, I am going to stick you with this shot.”
Mikey slams the shot straight down into my leg.
Ouch! He hit the nail on the head (or the shot on the target) with this one. This is exactly what that doctor did, and sometimes, how I feel my God treats me too.
He seems to woo me with words of “I am with you. I won’t leave you. I will help you. You are my daughter, my precious, the one I want to give good things to,” only to stick me a minute later with pain.
He speaks, “Kelly, my darling, I love you so much. I am here for you.” only to slam me with a trial.
Sometimes it just hurts.
Do you really love me God? If so, why do you have to hurt me like that?
Surely, I know this verse: “The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away.” Job 1:21
I know it, but do I have to like it?
The second part often plagues me as too hard to do…
“May the name of the LORD be praised.” Job 1:21
How do you praise when you can’t lift your sore arms above your head?
When they are much more comfortable on your hips, where they can ponder his methods rather than his truth?
But, as our eyes stare off in the distance figuring out how we ended up where we are, we see the long road – the road to heaven – and the road of Calvary, that Jesus endured.
He never said it was going to be easy. But, he said – for it – one day, we would be exceedingly blessed.
When we focus our eyes on his truth over our shots of pain, we start to remember verses like:
These things I have spoken to you, that in me you might have peace. In the world you shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world. (Jo. 16:33)
And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation works patience; Romans 5:3
And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28
But the God of all grace, who has called us to his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that you have suffered a while, make you perfect, establish, strengthen, settle you. 1 Peter 5:10
Blessed is the man that endures temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord has promised to them that love him. James 1:12
What we see is that the pain, but what God sees the abundant produce he is growing.
Sure, we feel agony in the moment, but when our little bud pushes through the tough ground, we finally see what God was always working on – fruit – ample fruit.
Fruit that endures past this sliver of life called earth.
Fruit that makes it all worth it, that teaches us something far greater than the lessons learned on the easy road.
Do you see it starting to pop up?
Peace, a sight of eternity, patience, a knowledge God is working for us, a shift to perfection, establishment, strength and a settled heart.
As our fruit multiplies on earth, so it does in heaven as God sets his banqueting table that awaits us after we have run our race with perseverance.
Our trials are not for naught, they are for gain.
While it sometimes seems God delivers a shot of venom to knocks us off our feet, he is always in the process of shooting us with love, hope, a future and peace. That is his business and that is his game – always and forever.
Even more, his shots protect us from a world that wants to drag our heart away from spiritual health and reliance on God.
God has a plan. He always has and he always will.
Your pain and brokenness is just the beginning of God’s beautiful restructuring.
With God, our trials inject new hope. They reset our focus to eternity. They are the antibody to complacency.
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It’s the thing we are on a constant pursuit of – but can never quite grab.
The thing that promises peace, yet looks miles away.
The carrot we run after but can’t seem to touch.
We dream of being armored up, impenetrable, uncompromised,
so we save up our bank account money,
we get alarms to keep bad people out,
we put up internal walls to keep other bad people out,
we run from love,
we hide from ourself,
we pick up vices,
we seek a way out…
..all to feel safe.
I know that I have done many of these things.
Finding safety in a man.
A hope.
A dream.
Finances.
People.
Compulsive habits.
Controlling pursuits.
Somehow I thought if I could only help God out just a little, maybe he would do the same for me, maybe I could make all things right and maybe I could avoid all the crud that constantly comes after me.
But, my best attempts always prove out my biggest flaw (I hate that): I simply have no control. Like a drug addict, I take another hit – seeking more control to fill the empty hole that shows I have no control.
It’s like I know the truth, but as one chasing the wrong hope, I move from pain to pain.
It seems, the more I seek to play the hand of God,
the more I play into the hand of the devil
(he wrote the book on control-seeking after all).
He has a field day with hearts in right field, the ones looking all around, rather than looking up to see the ball God launched to save the day, to make us cheer and to help us win.
When we aren’t looking, sometimes God lets us get hit by the ball to learn who really had the ball all along.
I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Ps. 16:8
You see, without God, we will likely be shaken. We will likely feel lost. We will feel like the inside of us is rocking and we have no control over it.
David knew this.
He seemed to know the more he pushed out his shaky feelings to his steady God,
the more his shaky feelings would be unshaken.
David had every reason to feel unsafe, but he leaned on all the reasons God would make him safe.
He spoke it to himself like a man trying to pound belief into himself. And, it worked. In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, LORD, make me dwell in safety. Ps. 4:8
He also knew this verse to be true:My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth. Ps. 121:1
Perhaps this is why God had declared him: ‘…a man after my own heart; he will do everything I want him to do.’ Acts 13:22
How did he do it?
He believed in unstoppable power of God’s lightning ability to save –
and acted accordingly.
Like David, how often do we face the dire with God’s fire?
Words of fire that says:
“My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge” (Psalm 62:7–8).
Safety is never a feeling.
Safety is never a circumstance.
A result.
A change of heart in another.
A structure that protects you.
A gift in life that makes it all ok.
A physical condition.
All of that can go in a blink of an eye.
It is simply knowing that God is the only structure that will one day bring complete eternal safety – and, until then, he is the only house that keeps guard over your inner shell protecting it from the pain of the outer world.
He can always keep your heart safe. Surely, sometimes he changes circumstances, but, what he always does protect is your heart – if you just let him.
And isn’t that really what we are after – at the core?
Hearts that feel ok?
That know they have the ultimate way?
That can be at rest.
God has you. You are safe in him. He will lead you on the way you should go. He is for you, with you and in you. Be encouraged – you are armored up in his protection, his love and his grace.
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I remember the times when I didn’t know who I was or where I was going.
I certainly didn’t think I had the power to hold firm, fast and strong in the face of big waves.
My life bounced left, right, up and down and I seemed to move with the winds.
I felt out-of-control and as lost as a shipwrecked vessel looking for it’s next savior.
And, then I found him.
He showed up. And anchored me.
He set my feet on new paths, through new ways, giving me a new hope.
But, what is so amazing about his anchor that it is not like a traditional anchor. What history proves is that anchors of yesterday are made of solid rock.
And, this makes a whole lot of sense to me, because as one who was pulled from the meaningless sea of nothingness and turmoil and fear and hopelessness, I remember where my security was derived. I remember that rock; I know it well.
It is him. The rock who is precious. Bursting at the seams with hope. Expanding my view with his power. Exploding with virtue to continually rescue. The corner stone.
For this is contained in Scripture: “BEHOLD, I LAY IN ZION A CHOICE STONE, A PRECIOUS CORNER stone, AND HE WHO BELIEVES IN HIM WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED.” 1 Pet. 2:6
Oh, how once I was disappointed, but now I am not.
This stone gives new strength in the winds of failure, of not being, of not knowing.
This stone, time and time again, gives us a chance to see new places, new people (and old for that matter) from new sight. In our safety we can see their heart wrestling through their own storms, verses solely focusing on ours. It revises our view of the world as we burrow deep down into his safety.
His anchor holds normal anchor power, but at a magnified rate. Hisrope is always attached, confirming we are taken, owned. This rock can’t leave us. It is always nearby. It sometimes steadies us for a time of enjoyment, of pleasure and other times it steadies us to prepare us for something greater, something bigger – like preparing our heart, fishing for men, or for traveling afar to bring good news.
The solid rock of Christ doesn’t always remove us from the storm,
but it always secures us as we get through it.
The point is – it is hope encapsulated.
For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? Ro. 8:24
It sums up the definition of hope; this rock has hit death in the face and knocked down it’s power to fight us back from eternity. Hope is resurrected.
Plus, it is certainly the only way to endure a storm to encounter, not just peaceful, but joyful and celebrating waters.
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Heb. 6:19
It can’t be untied from our bow; if we know that rock, he is forever tethered to our soul.
This rock is as present as the reality of the pains that hit us; they can’t take us down.
It secures the deepest places that shake inside of us, so we become steadfast in his will.
The eye of the storm has no power of the rock that holds our lives together.
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When I saw it, I immediately knew something was wrong.
The A, B, Cs where there. I was anxious, burdened and out-of-control as I cast my eyes on what was asymmetrical, border-weird and color not-normal.
My days of laughs in the sun,
felt like they were being exchanged for tears at the mirror
as I looked at my back from every angle known by man.
The possibility of cancer, the pain of removal and the fear how long it had been there swung like a wrecking ball in my chest. Whatever was resurrected for Jesus, was all broken today.
Have you ever noticed that, a heart that dwells on the looming possibilities of fear,
tumbles down the great possibilities of God?
I’ve noticed.
It’s a pack-up-your bags, furious move from residing under the shadow of God’s wing to living in a battle-soaked village of doom and gloom.
The more I looked at that mole, the more I knew I had to do something. So, I picked at it. Then, I started to rub. With no progress, I grabbed the great tool of exfoliating cream and dug into it.
This thing was coming off!
I rubbed some more…
Until all that remained was the bloodied marker of all that was threatening me
and an open sore filled with discouragement and embarrassment.
That’s how it is with worry, isn’t it?
The more we move the chair of our thoughts back and forth over that same spot,
the more we dig deep tracks of distrust into our heart.
We rub, and rub and rub – the same spot.
The more we dig deep these tracks of distrust, the more we follow these ill-conceived tracks to illogical solutions.
We rub with exfoliating cream.
We ruin the floor of our faith with the imaginations of our future. We take action to things only God had the best action for. What ruminates in our mind, dominates in our life.
Then we ask:
God, where are you? God, why did you let this happen? God, do you not care? God, are you going to let _____ happen?
It’s like we allow our all-powerful problems
convict our seemingly low-power god –
a god who is entirely lacking in the love department.
We get squinty-eyed at the one who loves us most. We do what we don’t want to do.
God, return my heart and my presence back to you. I am sorry.
Confession is the flashlight to clarity.
Worry doesn’t stop what destroys, it just steals joy.
Worry self-centers us. People, needs and ministry move to the outskirts.
Worry erases the idea that we are living for God’s glory, his plan and his will.
It makes invisible the prayer, “Thy Will be done.”
Worry is like a bouncy ball stuck in a box, it will keep you up all night and get you nowhere.
Worry places our eyes on our present problems, rather than our present God.
What do I really believe?
Do I believe God is an all-sufficient problem handler or do I believe that he is absent, I am all alone, in the woods, by myself, fending against all my worst fears by the strength of my own might?
Is God the warrior or am I?
The truth is: God has us, he won’t let us go, he has a plan, he will bring us through all pain, he will provide for our every need, he will not forsake us, he will never let us go, he will not let our foot slip, he will pick us up if we fall, he will guide us through suffering as he has suffered, he will bring glory to our pain, he will lead others to know him through our trials.
But the real question is, do I believe this deep down -where it counts?
Hearts that believe God is good, give thanks for their good God.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. Phil. 4:6
Thanks breathes in God and exhales bitterness. Thanks makes us see all we have versus all we could lose. Thanks brings into remembrance all of his past faithfulness.
Thanks puts into perspective our present perspective.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phil 4:7
What can you find to be thankful for?
What praise can you immerse your one-track mind in
so that you don’t rub yourself raw
with feelings of God-has-left-me?
—
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Purposeful Faith has been delighted to have Katy McCown join us as a guest contributor. Her insights have compelled our heart to love God more and more. We wish her only the best as she follows God in the next chapter of her life. Katie, thank you for being you. You glorify God in a powerful way!
“She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future.” Proverbs 31:25 (NLT)
And the hearts of all God’s girls say, Yes, please!
But deep down we wonder, Is this really attainable? Does her newspaper tell the same stories mine tells? No way she considers college costs and laughs.
Before we talk about the laugh we long for, let’s assess our current condition.
How does your sentence end?
She ________ ?
To help you fill in the blank, consider how you might respond in this moment:
You expect your husband (or friend, sister, mom, etc.) to meet you for dinner. You wait 30 minutes and he’s a no-show. What thoughts race through your head while you wait?
He’s hurt. Your heart beats faster and your palms begin to sweat. What route did he take to get here? You check your phone for a missed call from a number you don’t know and consider grabbing your keys to bolt for the car and re-trace the path he would have driven to the restaurant.
He doesn’t care. While you wait you replay all the ways you don’t measure up. Your head drops and a tear may even cloud your eye as you pick yourself apart and tear yourself to shreds. No wonder he’s not here.
He’s not worth it. Your fingers drum the table as your blood pressure rises. You run through the long list of demands still on your plate. How dare he waste my time.
If number one is your instinctive response, your blank may be filled with words like: She worries. She fears. She panics.
If you identify with number two, maybe these words strike a chord: She compares. She doubts.
If option three nails you on the head, then maybe you describe yourself as: She erupts. She controls.
Maybe you’re like me (and Goldilocks) and you’ve tested all three seats, but still haven’t found the one that’s just right. The bad news is that leaves us all scared, sad or sorta mean. But there is good news!
In her book Living So That, Wendy Blight writes,
“Emotionally, our faith is often muddled by fear, hesitancy, and doubt. But our feelings become irrelevant when Jesus is the object of our faith – when He alone is the One in whom we trust.”
Our faith hangs not on the future, but on the One who holds the future.
The woman God paints in Proverbs 31 fears nothing – not because of earthly security or stable emotions, but because of the position and condition of her heart.
She laughs, because she trusts.
“My friends, we are not those who give up hope and so are lost; but we are of the company who live by faith and so are saved.” Hebrews 10:39 (The Voice)
A few days ago all the stars aligned and every, single, one of my six children.
Fell asleep at the exact, same, time during the afternoon.
I tip-toed to my room as fast as tip-toes can carry a tired mama and nestled into the pillows with a smile from one ear to the other. Thank you, God, for the blessing of these few minutes. Thank you, God, for rest. Thank you, God, for
Bzzz … Bzzz … Bzzzzzzzzzz!
Get out! I screamed to the fly as I fanned my hand in circles. I tried to sink back into my tranquil state but to no avail.
Someone left the door open and let a pest in the house.
Bzzz … Bzzz … Bzzzzzzzzzz!
Strategy #1: Ignore it.
Failed. How does one tiny fly know just where to buzz to drive a person millions of times bigger than him CRAZY.
Strategy #2: Avoid it.
Success! Or so I thought. With the help of some spare pillows, I erected a teepee-type structure around my head. And it worked. No more fly. No more buzzing. Back to sweet dreams and silence.
The only problem … I painted myself into a corner. Even the slightest shift of an arm would bring the teepee tumbling down.
Instead of freeing myself from the problem, I trapped myself with a faulty solution.
Is there a pest wreaking havoc in your heart? In your haste to handle the problem, have you set up walls that prevent growth instead of providing protection?
If we want to laugh without fear of the future it’s time to clean house … or heart. Drive out the pests that torment & trap.
If you’ve ever tried to get a fly to do anything you know the dilemma. It reminds me of Shakespeare, “And though she be but little, she is fierce.“
The pests in our hearts put up a fierce fight. Sometimes they outwit. Sometimes they hide or blend into the surroundings. Sometimes they outlast us.
“Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.” 1 Peter 5:8 (NLT)
The pest in your heart has a name. The devil pursues you. He waits for the crack in the door. He invades and attacks with relentless force. Something tells me you know this already.
Defeating the devil requires you to do more than ignore or avoid.
“Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” Proverbs 4:23
To actively keep my heart, I employ 3 Strategies:
Be Alert! Identify the poison Satan feeds your heart and slam on the brakes (1 Peter 5:8).
Replace lies with Truth! Make every thought obedient to God’s Word (2 Corinthians 10:5).
Choose Faith! Show your belief by what you do (Jame 2:18-24).
So, how would the lady who laughs at the future approach the problem at the restaurant? I bet she prays. She tells God her fears, doubts or anger and begs for His truth to take over. She re-directs her toxic path to one focused on His Words and filled with His promises. And as she chooses to believe Him, she laughs.
“Instead, let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes. Put on your new nature, created to be like God—truly righteous and holy.” Ephesians 4:23-24 (NLT)
She laughs without fear of the future. Is this attainable?
I have to believe it is and, more than that, anything less is a life not suited for the daughter of the King.
Special thanks to Meagan at Ancient Verse for donating the artwork in the photo at the top of this post.
I left my job as a television news reporter to join my husband, Luke, on our adventure in the National Football League. 10 years, 12 moves, 6 kids, 5 teams, and 4 states later, it’s safe to say the road has been anything but predictable. Our dreams today don’t look quite like they did ten years ago, but I’ve learned along the way dreams do come true … even if you’re not a Disney World. I blog about a football wife’s life at www.katymccown.com and I’d love for you to visit me!
“I don’t want you to do that. You better not go there.” “I walked down a path and I saw the bad things that resulted.” “You may get hurt.” “I will have to carry your load.”
When we speak fear, we speak death into another person’s joy. We speak the emotions of worst case scenarios into what could be another’s best. We rain on another’s parade.
I don’t want to be that kind of person.
The kind of person that sees a child with a new balloon – and who then sucks the life right out of it.
I can try to justify it in love:
I don’t want them to be hurt.
I am saving us future pain.
They should know the truth.
But speaking fear is just criticism wrapped with a thin bow of “care”. The “care” bow doesn’t last, but often it’s the underlying words of fear that endure.
Are you raining on a parade?
Are you letting fear dictate your words to another?
To a spouse?
A child?
A friend?
I am guilty. I look at my 3-year old son, carrying big bucket of water and a huge smile, only to say, “Don’t spill that. I really don’t want to clean that up.”
While I know this is a small example, and it won’t ruin his life forever, it still conveys the point. What if, instead, I was to say, “Wow! That looks like fun. You are up to something cool. I want to be a part of that! Let’s take it outside.”
Instead of stealing joy, I am building into it.
I know, so often, I run so fast to fear…
Fear that ruins.
Fear that cripples.
Fear that overshadows emotions.
Fear stands for:
Fun Ends And you’re left… Rejected
What’s the other alternative? Love.
Love stands for:
Letting Obstacles Vanish and Enduring Faith Win
Love doesn’t see issues, but sees hope.
Love doesn’t see threats, but sees opportunity.
Love doesn’t see differences, but common pain.
Love doesn’t see the words “you can’t”, but encourages through the words “you can.”
Love doesn’t see the potential downfall, but a chance for greater faith to be forged.
Love doesn’t run to save, but trusts Jesus to.
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The feeling swept in with the morning rain clouds, as I sat by the window drinking coffee. Restlessness.
There were no defining edges to it. I couldn’t quite grasp where the emotion came from. It was just there. And it consumed me.
I daydreamed about moving to another town. We’d lived here four years so it was time, right? There were plenty of good reasons to migrate further south.
Like my mom’s stroke last year. Being over five hundred miles away was not ideal, and my parents weren’t getting any younger.
And I won’t even dwell on the winters here. This southern girl learned how to use a snow shovel a few years ago and purchased a new set of all-season tires, but I’d prefer not to have to use either.
Yes, I change of location was exactly what we needed. Wasn’t it? I was sure my restless ache would stop when the scenery became white sand and Palmetto trees.
But as the sun set later that evening and I watched my boys soaking up the last daylight hours, I sensed God speak.
Look for the beauty. Right here. Right now.
I saw the way the rim of the mountains slowly transformed in pink and deep blue right before nightfall. I felt the crisp evening breeze I often longed for on the sultry, humid evenings down south.
I watched the boys play and laugh with friends they’d made at church and smiled when the teacher bragged about my oldest son at a school fundraiser.
Later that week at dinner, I listened to women I’d grown to love share their kids’ latest antics and make plans for summer camping trips, trips to the pool, and marshmallow roasts.
Yes, there was beauty here. In all my restlessness and longing, I was missing it.
Sometimes instead of changing my situation, God changes me.
He wants me to see with his eyes and notice the blessings right in front of me. He is molding me and transforming me, and the some of the biggest, most life-changing transformations start with gratitude.
A full life isn’t made of moments counting down to the next major event. It is made of the moments we count our blessings.
There may come a time when God moves us closer to my family. He knows how much I miss them during their absence and how I long to savor the time I have left with them.
But he also has an assignment and a ministry for me right here, within the walls of my home and in the community around me. When we are faithful right where we are, God is honored.
He is glorified when instead of counting the days until my next trip south, I am present in the now.
“Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14 NIV
Today, if you’re feeling restless and cannot seem to pinpoint why, I encourage you to count. But don’t count the minutes until vacation or naptime or bedtime.
Count blessings.
Instead of counting the minutes, let’s savor the day.
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.
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