You don't have to catch the ball

I tend to bite off more than I can chew. 

I'm in the midst of putting out a (very late) newsletter, organizing a large girls' ministry event, trying to go over lesson talks and get all my ducks in a row before I host a discipleship internship for young women with my dearest friend. I am so blessed to have people in my life who help me out, help me shoulder the yokes, and take the time to encourage me. They push me and remind me of God's calling on my life whenever I selfishly allow myself to wallow in doubt or fear. They join me in wrestling prayer. They catch sight of the vision I've been given and then offer their talents to help with the work. 

This is my life. It's hectic and it's crazy, but it's the life that I love. Ministry is what I love. Reaching out to people is what I love. Being God's Hands and Feet is what I love. 

But I've got to learn to say no. I don't have to catch every ball that's thrown my way. Sometimes the "good" things keep us from the "best" things.

Dad offered me a job position yesterday that promised steady pay, unlike the sporadic hours I've been working. In the midst of trying to start up my own business, juggle ministry projects, and my current job working for him, I was completely overwhelmed. I knew he needed someone, and I was about to say yes- to bow my neck as another yoke was laid upon my shoulders. Another (big) responsibility clamoring for my time. Spread my minutes even thinner than they already were. 

The good things can keep us from the best things- and I had to say "no". Although the good money would've helped towards my flight out-of-country this fall, the job would prevent me from the best thing- the opportunities to reach out and minister to others, to be who God has called me to be. 

I have to say, saying "no" is painful. 

I don't like disappointing people. I don't like admitting that I can't be Super Woman. I don't like passing up opportunities that have amazing potential. I get frustrated at myself because I can't solve the world's problems, end hunger, stop slavery, and be everywhere at once to meet the needs of everyone. 

But that's where His grace comes in. He's going to finish the good work He's started. 

I just have to take one step at a time. Catch only the balls He's throwing. Choose the best over the good, and let Him walk me through every opportunity that comes my way. 

He never lets go

I heard her panicked gasp. Even from downstairs in the studio, I knew what it meant- it's the same sound mom makes every time she realizes that the door or gate has been left open and one of our animals is on the run. I laid aside my alterations, expecting to go after our old dog (a proven runaway). No, not the dog, she said. The cat- have you seen the cat?

How does one go about finding a small white cat (a proven escape artist) in a big, mean world? 

He couldn't have gone far, dad says. I walk around in the front yard, but see nothing. Breathing a prayer, I go into the back yard and check around the entire perimeter of the fence, assessing which popped boards the little fuzzball could have squeezed under. Our tall wooden privacy fence is backed by our neighbor's metal one. I pull myself up with my arms, high enough to see that our side neighbor's fence is connected with the neighbor's fence behind us- forming a passage. Mr. Kitten couldn't be too far away if he escaped from here. 

I hear voices floating over the fence behind me- one neighbor lady speaking with the other about the lilacs in bloom. I can't see them, the privacy fence towers over me. But the woodpile....I could stand on the woodpile and ask them if they've seen my cat. 

I push aside the awkwardness of just popping tall above a privacy fence and shocking my neighbors. "Um....excuse me?" The neighbor lady looked around, not seeing me. "No, over here. Uh, hi. Didn't mean to frighten you." She looked at me blankly after she spotted me through her flower bush. "Have you seen my white cat?" She thinks for a moment, says she hasn't. But then I look down...

And who is just standing there behind all the foliage, crying when he sees me? 

I have mom stand on the woodpile, talking to him and keeping an eye on him as I run around the block. Three streets later, I entered another neighbor's backyard (who was pulling weeds in her flower beds. Unfortunately I don't think she understood what I was doing, either) and scooped the runaway up in my arms. Safe, he starts to purr. 

It didn't last long. 

Not even two minutes after I rescued him, he started clawing, wanting to be put down and chase the birds again. When I held tighter, he began hissing at me, batting my face. He didn't understand that it was for his own good. I patiently endured his scratching, his hissing, his crying during the entire long walk home. He drew blood through my shirt on my ribs and my arm was treated worse than a scratching post. 

But I never let go. Because I think, isn't this us? 

The Father, He goes after His lost sheep. We're proven escape artists- always wanting to know what's on the other side of the fence. We forget about the safety we're privileged with and wander about in the alluring world. But then- the shadows loom darker and the wind grows colder. Suddenly it's not as fun as we thought it would be. We cry out- and the Father meets us there. Scoops us up in His arms, close to His heart. 

We're relieved- but only for a moment. 

How quickly we forget our misery and long again for the wild life, the adventures and the pleasures that flashed past us. We cry and we whine and we slap His face.

But He never lets go. 

He keeps walking us, enduring us, loving us. It's like the princess book my nieces beg me to read- after the princess has gone out and lived like the world, after she comes shamefaced home, after her father the king opens the door and cleans her up and tucks her in bed, after she sees how her muddy clothing has stained the king's royal robes...the princess whispers, "Never again. Never again will I ever treat him this way."

The king's response? "Yes, my child- it will happen again. And again. And again. But I will always be here when you cry for help, and my arms will always be open."

He's never more than a cry away. 

Hey Girl

Hey Girl. 

Did the words hurt you? I know the feeling. They hurt me, too.  They say sticks and stones break bones and words will never hurt- but they don't just hurt. They crush. Leave you feeling worthless. 

Oh, how I know. Girl, you're not alone. 

They say the truth hurts, but I think it hurts worse when the truth isn't known. Lies are spewed. Your lungs scream for the freeing air of justice. Your back is against the wall and their hands are raised with stones, poised to strike. You never thought they'd do this, did you? Yeah, me neither. Didn't think it would come to this. Forgot that there's wolves in sheep's clothing and that there's tares among the wheat. 

I'm standing here, and I want to scream for justice at the top of my lungs. To silence the accusations. To set free the truth that's captive. To make known the innocent. You've been there, too, yes? You know the feeling. The burning flame. I can sense your heart is beating it, too. 

But take a deep breath. It's all you really can do when your hands are tied behind your back with pointed last words. Breathe with me, please? Lean your head closer to mine so you can hear my whisper. I've got my eyes closed, head tilted to heaven. Girl, this is going to shake your world...listen carefully now: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

Soak it in- take your time. It took me a while, too. Do you see the injustice of thorns and spikes piercing the Body of the Son of God? Do you hear the curses, the lies, the accusations, the anger, the falsehoods that are slandering the character of the innocent and sinless Messiah? And after they flog Him and whip Him and mock Him and tear Him and diminish Him to nothing but a sagging package of bones struggling to make that walk with a stake on His back....He begs the Father to forgive them. 

But it's more than that, Girl. It's more. And this may shake your world even more: He opened not His mouth. 

It's called forgiveness. Compassion. Love. Grace. He extends it all to those who persecuted Him. All those who laughed in His face. Slapped His Face. Tore His Face. 

Soak that in, Girl. Try to process it all in. I'm still trying to fully comprehend it, too. When they're spitting their venom at us, and every fiber in our body demands retaliation...He didn't. Therefore, should we? Let them spew away, Girl. It's hard. It's painful. It's hurtful. But don't hold it in. Count yourself worthy- and know that He knows exactly how you're feeling. He's going to bless you. That's a promise. Count on it, Girl- He's going to get you through this with a spiritual strength that cannot be bent, with a testimony that will touch others, and with a new dependance and reliance on Him. He's going to make beauty from the ashes. 

Say it with me, Girl: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Say it out loud. Claim it while they continue to shoot their arrows at you. Those arrows don't pierce as deep now, do they? Compassion is seeping into your sight. You see how they don't understand His grace and forgiveness towards them. You want to reach out your hand in love to them, to try to break the callous hearts, to help them see all that they're missing. You're weeping for them. It's a different ache you're feeling now. 

Forgive them. 

The shackles fall from your wrists with those words. The arrows won't let up, no- but the prison door will swing open.

When It's Time To Stop Waiting // Jump Out Of The Boat

Life is full of waiting. Some self-imposed, some God-imposed. Some things make sense, while others are blurry visions of things to come. Go ahead, raise your hand if you are waiting…

…for a husband…
…for a job…
…for an education…
…for a child…
…for God to work in someone’s life…
…for God to work in your life…
…for enough money to do this or that…
…for more time…
…for more talent…
…for forgiveness…

…I’m sure I haven’t covered all the bases, so add your two cents here: I am waiting for ______________. Fill in the blank. You’re not alone. 

We’re all waiting. 

But when is it time to stop waiting? Stop waiting to live our lives until the perfect love, perfect friend, perfect job, perfect situation transforms our lives? Isn’t it time that we stop pacing back and forth and actually do something? To you young women out there, don’t get me wrong- I’m not saying that you need to go out and find yourself a husband here. I’m not saying that we need to speed up God’s timing. I’m not saying that we should not wait. 

We need to wait. But we also need to live. And sometimes? While we’re waiting for that big moment to present itself…it’s really God’s gentle push saying, “Jump out of the boat.” 

For me? It’s the fear that’s keeping me waiting in the unknown. 

God wants to bring us to the place where our eyes are fixed on Him and Him alone. He wants us to be focused solely on being abandoned to Him. He wants us to do hard things. 
Peter had that opportunity. 
Messiah called him out to the impossible of walking on water, and his fire-zealous heart leaped at the chance. He took the step of faith. He left the boat…but his eyes riveted off of the Master to what if. The waves were there, and what if they took him under? In that moment, there was no longer full abandonment. There was no longer full surrender. 
A quarter was given to the enemy.
It was all that was needed. Soon fear grabbed his heart, pulling him into the deep. It was a downward spiral to the depths of darkness. He knew he was going under, and he cried out for the Master to save him. 
And He did. As soon as the words had left Peter’s lips, He was by his side. 

I’ve always had a strong connection to Peter. I, like Peter, am zealot-hearted. I, like Peter, am bold when my soul feels free- but when the enemy looks me in the eye, I do the unthinkable and cave in to safety. My heart, like Peter’s, beats the Gospel, but my most desperate pleas are “Lord, save me!” and “Give me grace!”. 
Oh, Peter, I think we would’ve been friends…because your acquaintances Fear and What If visit my house, too. I’m pacing the boat, uncertain of the waters, wondering if He’s going to let me sink or stand. 

And I blame it on the “waiting game”. 

I say I’m waiting for more time, for more courage, for more talent, for more provisions. I blame my refusal to jump out of the boat on things I think I don’t have- forgetting that He will give us all that we need. Fear keeps me chained in the shallow end because the thought of doing what He’s asking me to sends me into cardiac arrest. Fear keeps me bound on the solid ground of self because I know that if I do what He’s asking me to, it’s going to make me vulnerable and uncomfortable and scared out of my wits. Fear keeps me enslaved to complacency because if I leap out of the boat, I’m going to get wet. I’m going to struggle. I’m going to thrash. I’m going to take great big gulps of water that flood my lungs and make me feel like I’m drowning…because I completely forget that He’s just a call away. He’s not going to let me drown in the deep end. 

He’s calling me- and you- to leap out of the boat and live. He’s calling us to pick up our swords, look that monster named Fear in the eyes and say, “You will not run my life-no way.”  It’s a daily battle. Being a Believer isn’t a walk in the park or a tea party- it’s a wild roller-coaster and a battlefield. We have to fight our flesh and die to self so that He can live in us. 

He’s asking us to live while we’re waiting for the things He’s asked us to wait for, and asking that we walk by faith and not by sight. Today will never come again- how are we going to make it count for the Kingdom? How are we going to give Him every heartbeat, every quickened breath, every action of our hands and feet and ask Him to make them count for His glory? 

I swing my legs over the side of the boat. I want to be on the water with Him. The boat lurches at the shifting weight, wanting to dump me overboard. My fingernails claw at the wooden rail of the familiar and the safe. Yet, I want to go. I want to. Fear is looking over my shoulder- I can feel his heavy shadow loom. 
But my eyes look to Him. His hands are outstretched. I can barely hear Him whisper over the wind and the waves- the things that scream that I’m foolish, the things that boss me to do something else, the things that yell that I’ll never make it out there. I can barely hear Him, but I can lip-read enough to know. “Trust Me. Your life is now.” 
My toes touch the water and I abandon the ship of self security to live fully on the waves where He’s calling me. 

He's Passed Over // N.E.D.

I've been cleaning for days, trying to uncover any last remaining bits of leaven from this house. But today, it seemed longer than the rest. Passover Eve and still so much to do. I'll be honest, I didn''t do it all as cheerfully as I ought. Something was dragging me down. Chaining me. When life throws so much at you, sometimes you can only function in a fog. 

By now it's past 10:20 at night and I'm bone tired. Exhausted and barely able to keep standing at the computer. But we've been waiting. All evening we've been checking, waiting for my brother to finally tell us what his good news was. Waiting. Waiting. 

I didn't expect much. I know that now, because what he said put me in shock. 

He said the three most beautiful letters in the alphabet. 

N.E.D. 

The three most beautiful letters in the alphabet that I never thought I'd ever hear. N.E.D. No Evidence of Disease. I stand there in shock as mom starts rejoicing in the kitchen at this late hour. Did he just say...? My brain can't comprehend it. The only word it comprehends is HALLELUYAH. 

In that moment, the shackles fall from my ankles. The world rolls off my shoulders. 

My brother's living another day. Amazing how three little letters can change your world. 

I fall asleep with a praise on my lips. In the midst of the night, something disturbs my slumbers. I squint. Why is my room flooded with sunlight? It's 3 in the morning. I groggily pull back a corner of the blind. It's been months since I've seen such a bright moon. But in that moment I remember...

It's Passover. It was under this same bright moon thousands of years ago that Yehovah lead the children of Israel out of bondage. He lit their path, made clear their way. Tonight? He has passed over us, too. 

My mind screams "N.E.D" over and over and over again. If Ryan didn't live clear halfway across this great state, I'd beg him to waltz me around the room. To dance before the Father. No, Ryan is not the firstborn- but the Father has spared his life another day. Passed over. Passover. 

He's leading us out of Egypt. 

Raw Blessings

I started this blog so I could have a place during this cancer journey where my heart could bleed out words- so that it could heal through setting them free. My writings are raw because I tell things the way they are, the way they feel, the way they effect myself and my family. Cancer is not a happy topic- no hardship, illness, or trial is.  You can't sugarcoat heartache or emotions. Because of that, I will not tell you to lighten up through the trials you're facing. I will not tell you that you just need to get over the hurt and pain. However, I will tell you this: you have to wrestle through it- claim Him as your God, no matter what happens. I can tell you that, because I've gone through it. I could list pages of hurts, trials, disappointments, tears, frustration, and then some that this cancer journey has handed me. 

But I could also list pages of blessings. 

I can tell you the blessings of learning to wrestle in prayer, the blessings of treasuring every day as a gift from God, the blessings of loving and serving my family, the blessings of LIFE, the blessings of tears shed together, the blessings of someone's arms around you for comfort, the blessings of the Body of Christ coming together to encourage you and pray with you, the blessings of memories, the blessings of knowing how to help others in the same situation you're going through, the blessings of having nothing left to cling to but His promises, the blessings of a deeper and richer walk with Him as He walks you through the valley...

Sometimes, our biggest blessings...they come through raindrops. Tears. Sleepless nights and fears. The raw heartache. Emotion. 

This woman, she knows. The song "Blessings" was born through her husband's battle with a brain tumor. This song wrestles through all the things we want, the things we view as blessings...but comes to realize that maybe, we've had the wrong definition of blessings all these years. He's showering us with gifts, even through the storms. We just have to choose to see them as such. 

It's a feeling and a knowledge that I cannot describe in words. You'll only experience it when you're the one walking through the valley. I'm not just talking of cancer- we all have our shadows of darkness that we must walk through, whether it be broken relationships, job loss, death, or defeat. It's in those moments when you realize that your relationship with God is not fluff, it's not fancy words, it's not the glamorous blessings of prosperity...

...it's that He's there with you. Carrying you. Causing you to see that He is your all in all- everything you will ever need. Showing you how to cling to His promises. Knowing that even though we're blinded by our human instincts of frustration and anger and doubt, He's standing strong before us- guiding us and lighting our way. 

And that is the greatest blessing of all. 

(let's make this a declaration, shall we? share your raw blessings in a comment below. declare the promises you cling to. no matter who you are, whether i know you or not...we're all on this journey together. so let's praise Him together, yes?) 

Ponder Me This

There's a lot to ponder about in this life.

Some things, they're worth pondering. Others, well, they just aren't. So I ponder myself this:

What's wrong with this Body? 

Why do we have division? Why do we have strife? Do we all need to walk through a cancer journey in order to realize that we only have one life, only one shot to be His love, only one try to show a dying world who He is? Do we all need to sit in the cancer ward with our lives flashing before our eyes or have toxic orange fluid drip into our chests and burn away all the worthless pursuits and meaningless time killers and petty disagreements? 

Do we care more about being right and being on top that we forget that we are called to be children of Peace- to do anything and everything within our power to make peace? And if we're not children of Peace- who's children are we?

It's like Ann recalls- we're looking more like Christ's Estate rather than Christ's Body. We're divided by fences and lines rather than joined together by the sinews and veins. 

So when are we going to put down our signs, cross over the lines, and love like He did? And I'm not talking about the outside world here- it seems we can love them fairly well. We gladly put on smiles and extend hands of love in attempts to build bridges with the lost. But inside this Body? 

We just keep on building fences. 

Have we so quickly forgotten the second greatest commandment? Do we forget that it's LOVE- love that covers over a multitude of sins? That we must first show love to our brother before we can show our love to Him? And if we paused before we eagerly look for the spec of dirt in our brother's eye- we'd see the beams of filth in our own life? 

Is this what Christ died for- so we could all just trample grace and refuse to give it to our hurting brother and keep on building fences? 

It doesn't have to be this way. It shouldn't be this way. 

So what are you going to do about it?

This is our responsibility. It boils down to us individually. What are we going to do to restore unity, to be a healing balm and gracefully begin restoration within the Body? 

Is it an e-mail? An apology? Time spent on your knees in tears, begging the Father to break your heart like this dysfunctional Body breaks His? Is it inviting that person over to dinner, or meeting them for coffee, or writing them a note of grace? Is it a hug? Saying "You're needed in this Body"? A gift? Going out of your way to make sure that person feels loved and needed- regardless of petty doctrinal disagreements? 

How are you going to break the fences and link arms once again with your fellow sisters and brothers? 

(please, go read this post. ann's words ring so true. i had "Holy Spirit Bumps" chill my arms as I read. take it as a challenge- and be the change. do something to bring this Body back to unity. because in the end? it all starts with you and me.)